Destiny's Embrace (11 page)
Eli’s eyes radiated humor through the lenses of his spectacles. “I’ve eaten already, but just for that, I want some of that bacon.” And bold as day walked over and snagged two pieces.
Reverend Dennis was still so focused on Mariah, Logan swore if he and Eli hadn’t been present, the man would’ve already tossed her over his shoulder and beat a hasty path back to his buggy. “Our services begin at ten, Mrs. Cooper. I’m always looking to increase the congregation, so if you need a way to church, I’d be honored to drive you.”
Before she could respond, Logan offered up a response of his own. “If she wants to go, I’ll take her, and bring her back.”
The reverend stared as if seeing the Second Coming. Eli choked on his bacon and began coughing violently. Logan ignored them both along with the surprise in Mariah’s eyes.
The stunned-looking reverend asked, “You’ll bring her—to church?”
“Yes.”
Eli was still coughing and viewing Logan as if he’d never seen him before. What went unsaid was that although Logan generously paid for most of the church’s construction costs seven years ago, he’d yet to set foot inside.
Logan asked Reverend Dennis, “Is there a problem?”
“Um, no,” and he glanced back and forth between Logan and Mariah.
Eli did the same, and shook his head.
Logan held the reverend’s eyes. “You said you had another reason for stopping by.”
“Um yes, I did. Miss Carmichael’s taken a higher-paying position and has given her notice.” He stopped for a moment to explain to Mariah. “She’s our schoolteacher.”
“I see, thank you.”
He continued, “I know how busy you are, Logan, but I was hoping you’d volunteer to be on the committee to find her replacement.”
“Sure. Just let me know when and where you want to start.”
“Wonderful. You’re always a blessing.”
Logan enjoyed doing positive work, but now, he wanted the reverend to go on about his day, preferably taking Eli with him, so that he could eat breakfast with Mariah—alone.
Dennis must’ve seen that in his face. “Well, I’ve a lot to do today so I’ll get going.” But first, he turned to Mariah. “Mrs. Cooper, it’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance.”
“Same here, sir.”
“I’ll see you and Logan in church on Sunday.”
“Looking forward to it.”
His next words were directed squarely at Logan. “As am I.”
Logan kept his face void of expression. “Thanks for stopping by.”
“You bet.” Eyeing Mariah one last time, he walked away.
Mariah asked, “Is he as nice as he seems?”
Logan concentrated on handing her a plate and sitting down with his own. He left the answering to Eli.
“Yes, he is. Does a lot to raise the race, and, he’s looking for a wife.”
“Is he?”
Logan watched her turn and view the departing reverend with what appeared to be interest. He was so taken aback, he accidently knocked over his plate. The eggs, steak, bacon, and biscuits stared up at him from the dirt. He growled and speared Eli with a look that was met with all the innocence of an angel.
“Oh no,” Mariah responded disappointedly. “And after all your work.” She had her plate safely in hand. “Here, take some of mine, I’ll never be able to eat all this.”
Thoroughly disgusted, he declined. “Quite all right. I’ll grab something later. I need to get to work. Let’s go, Eli.”
Barely hiding his mirth, Eli walked to his horse and mounted up, while Logan struck out for the stable to get Diablo.
As they rode off, Logan saw Mariah seated in the grass, happily eating her breakfast—alone.
L
ogan looked at the cut in the fence and angrily scanned the surrounding foothills as if searching for the perpetrators.
“Wiley, again?” Eli asked while visually surveying the area, too.
“More than likely. He’s the only one around dumb enough not to care what we think about him trespassing.”
Arnell Wiley had been a pain in the ass since moving into the area a year ago. He ran a dairy operation, and why he’d purchased land with sparse grass and no water showed how little he knew about the business. Word was he’d been a store clerk back in Kansas and came to California to start over. He was as pretentious as he was irritating.
“You going to talk to him again?”
”Yeah. I have to ride over and see Green Feather, so I’ll swing by his place when I’m done there.”
“I’ll put a crew of night riders together to keep an eye on things out here.”
“Good.” Logan surveyed the tracks left by the cows. “Looks like he had the whole herd in here.”
Where they stood was less than a mile from the river that meandered through Yates land. “I don’t want to see a man go broke, but we offered him a reasonable price for his right to water and he rejected it.”
Eli countered sarcastically, “Why pay when you can steal it.”
Logan sighed angrily and looked at the way the fence had been peeled back to allow the herd inside. “I’ll get this repaired later.” One more thing to add to his list of duties for the day, when all he wanted was to be at home with Mariah. “Oh, and thanks for making me drop my breakfast.”
“Had nothing to do with it. Did enjoy the look on your face though.”
Logan rolled his eyes.
They mounted their horses and Eli asked, “You really going to church on Sunday.”
“Yes.” The smile on the face of his friend made Logan ask, “What?”
Eli shrugged. “Remember that roan stallion a few years back? The one that tried to keep us from roping his mare?”
“I do.” The stallion had put the mare behind him and reared and charged for quite a while, trying to protect the female.
“You reminded me of him this morning.”
“I’ll see you later.” Tightening Diablo’s reins, Logan rode away.
A
fter finishing breakfast, Mariah gathered up the dishes and skillets and took everything into the house so she could wash them in the battered metal sink. That there was hot water coming out of the spigots continued to amaze her. She made a mental note to ask Logan where the boiler was located, and what she needed to do to ensure she had hot water when needed. Only then did it occur to her that she had no idea where he kept the soap, but it didn’t matter: there was a wealth of buckets and brushes and other cleaning items left on the back porch after the clutter detail. A quick search turned up a small pail of flaked soap. She chiseled some out with a spoon, dropped the globs into the water, and used her hand to swish it around until it began to foam.
While she washed the dishes, she set her passionate encounter with Logan aside for a moment and thought back on Reverend Dennis’s visit. He was a decidedly handsome man: tall, dark, and although lacking the mountainlike stature of Logan and Eli, he’d impressed her with his kind and courteous manner. That he was interested in her was plain. In fact, he seemed unable to stop taking peeks at her and that made her smile. Eli said the man was looking for a wife, and from Mariah’s initial impression a girl could do worse. Scrubbing the plates, she wondered what it might be like to be married to a preacher. Back in Philadelphia, her pastor’s wife held a special place in the hearts of the congregation. She was well respected and known for her quiet, calm nature. Mariah couldn’t remember her ever raising her voice in anger, and was certain she’d never kicked or thrown rocks at her husband. Those thoughts brought her mind back to Logan. Why in the world had he offered to take her to church when, on the ride from the train station, she distinctly remembered him saying he didn’t attend church? Was she correct in assuming it had to do with the reverend’s invitation? If that was the case, she couldn’t for the life of her understand why he’d care. One would think he was jealous, but Mariah knew better. Did he think she’d let the reverend kiss her the way she’d let him? Even though Reverend Dennis appeared quite taken by her, he hadn’t given her any reason to think he’d do something so ungentlemanly, or would speak to her as scandalously as Logan had. Would his kisses leave her breathless and throbbing? Remembrance rose on the heels of that, along with being called
querida
in a tone of voice that made her senses bloom again. Deciding she didn’t need to be thinking about any of this, she focused her thoughts on more tangible concerns, like, How would the congregation view her?
Being a housekeeper, she wasn’t expecting to have any status in the community, but she hoped they’d be kind and not whisper behind their hands about her odd-colored eyes. Growing up, in addition to being cruelly named Witch Hazel, she’d also suffered slings and arrows about her light-colored skin. “Straw Hag,” some of her classmates called her derisively, along with “uppity” and “light bright—damn near white,” even though she wasn’t close to being pale enough to pass herself off as anything other than a woman of the race. Her mother seemed to have issues with her coloring as well, which only added to Mariah’s low opinion of her looks. Although she wasn’t the only bright-skinned child among her peers, she had drawn the cruelest remarks. Her mother explained the cause as “those ugly gold eyes of yours.” Thinking of her mother, she wondered again how she might be faring, then went back to the dishes.
Once she was done, she put everything away in the battered cupboards and decided to do some housecleaning. At home, she had begun her day by removing the day-old ashes from the stove and refilling it with new kindling so it could be lit for the breakfast meal, but because there was no stove, she instead went through the house and gathered the glass chimneys from all the lamps and set them in a sink of fresh, soapy dishwater. They needed washing in order to rid them of the soot and grime caused by the kerosene used to light them.
When they were all clean and sparkling, she spent a few moments trimming all the lamp wicks with a pair of sharp scissors before replacing the chimneys.
Kerosene was foul smelling and once the house had furniture and curtains, she’d have to wash the drapes weekly and wipe down the furniture daily to rid them of the smoke, soot, and fumes.
Since all the windows were clean and the clutter removed, she decided to take up the rugs and give them a sound beating. After that, she’d scrub the floors.
A
lanza placed the flowers she was carrying at the base of her husband’s headstone and stepped back. Today was his birthday and although her grief had run its course, she still missed him very much. The family cemetery was on the far north end of the ranch and held the remains of her grandparents and parents. When her time came, her grave would be there, too. She visited his resting place often—to talk, to reminisce, to vent, but mostly to think back on the day Max Rudd and the others brought his lifeless body home. She’d been so devastated by the sight, she’d wanted to join him in death, but knew she had to remain stoic for the sake of her equally devastated sons. Only after they’d been put to bed did she ride out to riverbank, and there in the darkness she’d keened and rocked herself until sunrise. During those first few months of widowhood, men wanting to marry her circled like vultures, but she was so afraid they wanted the land more than they did her and her sons, she sent them away. Armed with a headstrong determination to make the business pay, she vowed to go it alone, but as she’d noted earlier, she didn’t know anything about doing it properly and eventually paid the ultimate price for that ignorance. The business floundered, and in spite of her clawing and scratching and praying, their way of life plummeted so far that there came a day when she had nothing to feed her children. Her father, who’d refused to help even when Abraham was alive, had passed away a few years earlier, and her mother soon after. Her only other family was her father’s brother residing in Yerba Buena. Pride and the remembrance of the shame she’d brought down on her parents kept her from asking for his assistance earlier, but after looking into the hollow eyes of her starving sons, she swallowed that pride, put them in a wagon and drove to Yerba Buena. Once there, she dropped to her knees before her uncle and begged.
Alanza looked into the distance at the mountains and remembered that day as the most humbling experience of her life. She who’d been born to money and privilege had nothing, and by God’s grace her uncle was moved. He helped her to her feet and showed her a copy of her father’s will leaving his rancho and accumulated wealth to her second son, his first blood grandson, Andrew Antonio. Her uncle then sent her home under the escort of fifteen of his
vaqueros
, who were to assist her and the then fourteen-year-old Logan with everything they needed to make the ranch a success. She cried grateful tears the entire way.
The sound of an approaching rider interrupted her reverie. She turned to see Max Rudd on his signature palomino stallion. He’d been a great help both before and after her visit to her uncle, and was as generous and kind to her as his friend Abraham had been. Max was only a few years older than she—handsome, too, if she were being truthful. However, after Abe’s death, she’d vowed to never turn her heart to another man—not after the disastrous results from her first flirtation with what she thought to be love. She did enjoy his companionship, because outside of her sons, he knew her best.
“Good morning, Max.”
He swung easily out of the saddle and approached. “Morning, Lanz. Bonnie told me you were up here.”
“It’s Abe’s birthday.”
He nodded knowingly. “Miss him.”
“As do I.”
For a moment they eyed the headstone in silence. The day after he brought Abe’s body home, he’d dug the grave and stood beside her and the boys while the priest read the words. Those deeds alone endeared him to her for a lifetime.
“He’d be proud of you,” Max voiced. “His sons are fine, upstanding men, and you’ve turned this spread into something to behold.”
“You were a big help with both.” She looked back down at the headstone and silently sent Abe her regards and love.
Max waited soundlessly at her side.
“I’m ready now.” She placed her hand in the crook of his arm and together they walked back to the horses.
“Did Logan talk to you about the cabinetry?” she asked.
“He did. I brought my tapes with me to do some measuring, but I’m more interested in meeting this new housekeeper. Figure she must be quite a pistol if he’s having cabinets made.”
“Mariah’s more like a Colt. She’s a widow from Philadelphia and got that house of his cleaned out the very first day she arrived.”
“Do you like her?”
“Immensely.”
“And Logan?”
“Good question. I think he likes her more than he’s willing to admit at the moment. She’s been giving him fits.”
“Good for her. It’s about time he met a woman who didn’t melt in his mouth.”
Alanza wholeheartedly agreed. “She’s also a very beautiful young woman. I imagine the men will be lining up to court her very soon.”
“How’ll Logan handle that, do you think?”
She shrugged. “With Valencia no longer in the picture, we’ll see.”
“What do you mean?”
She told him about Valencia’s upcoming marriage.
“That must’ve been a kick in the head for him.”
“I’m sure it was, but you know Logan, the last thing he’ll show is his feelings. He called it water under the bridge.” Of her three sons, Logan was sometimes the easiest to figure out, but also the hardest when it came to discerning how he felt inside. She thought it might be because he was alone a lot after his mother died in childbirth and had only himself to confide in. Abe did what he could with his raising, but he had a ranch to run and horses to wrangle, neither of which were conducive to raising an infant, so Logan spent his early years with a variety of wet nurses and women Abe paid to keep an eye on him until he was old enough to be at the ranch alone. When Alanza first met him he was only six, but he could already cook and ride with the confidence of a boy twice his age.
When they reached Logan’s house, Mariah was outside beating rugs. Stopping at their approach, she called out cheerily, “Morning, Mrs. Yates.”
“Morning. I see you’re busy.”
She wiped away the perspiration on her brow. “Just earning my keep.”
“This is Max Rudd. He’s a wonderful carpenter and a great friend. He’ll be making the new kitchen cabinets. Max. Mariah Copper.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rudd.”
“Same here. Welcome to California.”
He and Alanza dismounted. “Is Logan around?”
“No. He and Eli went to ride the perimeter. Would you like to come in? I’d offer you refreshments but there aren’t any. I’ll make up for it next time.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go look at the kitchen.”
Inside, he surveyed the job to be done. “Made these cabinets myself, Mrs. Cooper, a long time ago.” He ran his finger over the bullet holes and turned questioning eyes her way.
“Apparently, whiskey was involved.”
He chuckled and shook his head. While Alanza and Mariah looked on, he spent a few minutes measuring and writing down his calculations on a piece of paper. “Be a while before they’re done. Anything else you need beside the cabinets and counters?”
“Would it be too much trouble to ask for a couple of breadboards?”
“No trouble at all. Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of. How about you, Mrs. Yates?”
Alanza shook her head. “I can’t think of anything either.”
“Then I’ll head over to the mill, pick out some wood and get started.”
Mariah thanked him and the three left the kitchen. In the parlor, he stopped and stared around. “Lanza said you whipped this place into shape your very first day.”
“I had to. It was quite the mess and smelled even worse.”
Alanza added, “And he’s starting on the bunkhouse as well, thanks to Mariah.”