Hope Reborn (31 page)

The door creaked opened; Bonnie stuck her head in, grinning ear to ear. “Do the lovebirds want coffee?”

May slipped out of bed. “Oh my, yes! We’d love some.” Houston, right behind his sister, slow walked toward his new mother with a steaming cup.

Bonnie handed her offering up to him. “Morning, Daddy.”

“Good morning, my littlest lady. Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome. Can we call Miss May ‘Mother’ now?”

“Yes, of course, that’s who she is.”

“Good.” She grinned and jumped up next to her new mama. May balanced her coffee in the air. “Want breakfast in bed, too? Miss Laura took over for Mammy—I mean Miss Jewel—just for today, but she did herself right proud.”

“Hey.” Houston grinned. “CeCe says I ain’t going to be the baby anymore on account y’all got married. That ain’t true. Is it?”

Bonnie swiped at her brother, but he dodged her. “Samuel Houston Buckmeyer, ain’t is not a word, and you need to learn some manners.”

May smiled. “Well, it does take time, but hopefully we’ll have a new baby in a year or so.”

Henry nodded, but that would be it. He’d shot his mouth off and promised her one, but one was all—the end—the exclamation! He’d not be stupid and keep giving her more children until it killed her. 

Days slipped by, the girls all rightfully engrossed in Rebecca’s wedding, while May scribbled away.

It amazed him how she cut right to the heart of a matter, telling a story so it seemed you were right there with Levi and Rose.

She did take his advice about beefing up the scene where the yaps tried to steal Laura back, but then went a bit too far with splattering blood and brain matter over everyone.

He loved her reading him her latest pages. Also, her time writing gave him the opportunity to see to his vast empire, not that he’d ever admit aloud to having one.

Lord, have mercy. He been given go much, but then, bless God, the Lord had sent him Jean Paul and put it in Levi and Wallace’s heart to stop rangering and relieve him of the day-to-day operations.

After a week of staying in bed with May, he went back to riding the perimeters of a morning.

New Blue acted a bit standoffish at first, as though punishing Henry for taking his wedding week off, but soon enough, the son of his old friend got right back to normal.

Just like Sue. She never could stay mad at him either. Hopefully, he’d never find out if May held a grudge.

October gave way to November then right after Thanksgiving, the coming Rusk nuptials and the trip to Europe took on lives all their own. Like the Frankenstein monster, each threatened to consume anyone or anything that stood in its way.

At times frustrations flared, feathers ruffled, and offenses festered over nothing.

Praise God though, in His mercy, Rebecca and Wallace got hitched, and all the overseas travel plans finalized. And to think he only had to send Jean Paul to post seven different letters over two months to get it all straight.

Mercy, took less planning to move Jackson’s army to New Orleans.

Then on the very day, while they all were kissing him and May and the three big girls goodbye, Mary Rachel took a turn hugging his neck. “Daddy, I’m sorry. I really am, but I can’t go. No, I mean I’m not going. I can’t leave. I won’t.”

Henry leaned back and stared at his not-so-baby girl. “What did you just say?”

She grimaced, then her eyes flashed—so much like her mother. “I cannot be gone for seven months. I thought for a while I could, but I just can’t, Daddy.”

Her new mother stepped close. “But Mary Rachel, why? It’ll be the trip of a lifetime. I promise you’ll adore Europe.”

“It’s just Mary now, no Rachel. That’s what Caleb calls me.”

Henry wanted to grab Just Mary and shake some sense into her. Instead, he lowered his voice and filtered his tone through as much calm as he could muster. “So. This about that boy?”

“He’s a man, Daddy, and you know it. We love each other.”

“If he loves you, baby, then he’ll wait. It’s only seven months. He should be thrilled you’re getting to go to Europe.”

“Well, he might. But I’ve made my decision, and I’m not going.”

May stepped in front of him. “Mary, please reconsider. You’ll have so much fun and get to see things you’ll remember for the rest of your life. You may never have the chance to go again.”

The girl smiled. He hated her growing up. “Mama May, Daddy said it was your idea to take us with you, and I thank you, but my mind’s set. I’m not going.”

Henry studied on his firstborn, as pigheaded as her mother. But then that passion drew him to Sue like a kid to a cookie jar. Only one of the things he’d loved about her, but now he had four daughters.

Would he always have to deal with stubborn women? “We’ve booked your passage.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. Like I said, I thought I could do it. Let Bonnie take my place.”

His youngest girl burst into the middle of the showdown. “Can I, Daddy? Please take me! I’ll be good. Mama, tell him how good I’ll be.” She turned those doe eyes on him. “Pleeeease.”

May patted her head. “She is powerful good, Henry, and the next in line, too.”

Henry hated this. Everything was set. The little ones didn’t like it much, but understood about all the work and boring grownup stuff their new mother had planned for the trip.

Now one of their own was going. He faced Houston. “What do you think, Son?”

He backed up a step. “If Charley and Bart ain’t going, then I ain’t.”

“Samuel Houston Buckmeyer.” Bonnie stretched her arm toward him, pincher fingers at the ready.

But Bart stepped in front of his best partner. “Det your pincher tlaws down and stop it, Bonnie Tlaire.” Her expression changed from joyful to outraged. “Like a dood dirl.” His whole tone took on a sweetness. “Betause you know you ain’t da boss of him.” He looked up for some help. “Isn’t dat right, Untle Henwee?”

“Yes, Bart. That’s correct.”

His baby girl looked at her younger brother and his right hand man then smiled. “Oh, yes, never mind Houston.”

The boys both curled their lips at her. “See Pa? See how she thinks she’s the boss just because she’s older? Shouldn’t be telling me how to talk, it ain’t right.”

Bart covered his mouth toward Houston’s ear. “We tould tut her duts out.” He spoke loud enough that all could hear.

Levi scooped him up. “Bartholomew, that’s enough!”

Henry took Houston’s shoulder. “Work on the ‘ain’ts’, Son. Isn’t proper English. So you’re good with your sister going?”

“Better! I’m great with it.” He stuck the tip of his tongue out at her and waved her off. “Good riddance.”

The smallest grabbed his daddy’s hat and sat it on his own head. “And me, too, Untle Henwee. Bonnie tan doe, me don’t tare.”

“Why, thank you, Bart.” The youngest daughter spread it on thick.

Charley stepped up. “Me and the boys have some big plans of our own for while you’re gone, Uncle Henry. You’ll be right pleased when you get back.”

Bonnie beamed. “Can I then? Can I? I can be packed in no time.”

Mary pointed at her carpet bag. “Bonnie, I put your things in my grip just in case.”

The eight-year-old jumped up and down and clapped. “So yahoo, yay, and hip hip hooray. This is the best.” She hugged May. “Well, come on, what are we waiting for?”

Henry looked to his wife, who smiled, then back to his baby girl. “Lots of boring travel time, better than a month on the water each way. Promise you’ll be really good?”

“Yes, sir. I promise.”

He closed his eyes and against his better judgment opened his mouth. “Fine.” His gut in knots, he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Mary Rachel there. Getting her away from that young man for a while was exactly why he’d agreed to let the girls go.

Now she’d be there. With the boy.

He didn’t like it.

Bonnie flung herself into his arms. “Oh, thank you, Daddy. Thank you so much.” She dropped down then launched herself onto her new mother. “Thank you, Mama, this is going to be so much fun. I love you very much.”

Henry caught the disappointing smirks of Gwendolyn and Cecelia, but let them pass. Bless God, he could stand anything for seven months.

Couldn’t he?

Seven hours later, about the time the Buckmeyers changed stages in Mount Pleasant, and sixteen miles north by northwest as the turkey vultures soar from where Just Mary sat in her room dreaming about her future, the object of her affection worked hard skidding black walnut saw logs back to his cabin.

Caleb checked behind. The timber was almost in place. Two more steps, then he eased his mule to a stop. He hopped down then rubbed the old boy’s near ear. “You sure are a good mule.”

The rattle of trace chains turned him. “Well, look here what the cat drug in.”

He unhooked the mule and led him to the barn’s corral; got back before Lanelle had the brake set on her wagon. “She didn’t go.”

He nodded. “You sure? Saw it with your own eyes?”

“Yep.” She stood and threw him a smirk. “Help me down.”

“Sure.” He stepped toward her with his hands held out; she fell into them. He caught her then twirled her around as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He set her on the ground and stepped back a bit.

Business first. “Anyone see you turn on my road?”

“No, but what difference does it make? I’m only bringing supplies for my kin.”

“True, you get it all?”

“A sack of sugar, bit of salt and a pound of coffee, but you best get yourself to town. Old man Hobbs would like a word with you. He wasn’t too happy when I told him it was for you.”

Caleb nodded toward his wagon. “I should have this lumber loaded by Saturday. I’ll see to it then.”

She shrugged then turned and moseyed toward the cabin. “That last batch of shine any better?”

Heading the opposite direction toward the well, he soon went to cranking; retrieved the jug, pulled the cork, and sipped a taste, then extended it to his cousin. “You tell me.”

Always a sight to behold, she approached him and accepted the jug without an ounce of pretention. She licked her lips, took a short pull, and wiped her mouth. “Boogers, Caleb.” She grinned then got herself a real drink. “I’d say that may be the best you’ve cooked yet.”

He took the jug back and sipped a bit more. It burned all the way down. Replacing the cork, he nodded toward the cabin. “You got time?”

She reached for the moonshine. “Depends?”

He twisted away. “On what?”

“You really going to marry that Buckmeyer girl?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Her daddy ain’t going to like it one bit. He’s liable to cut her off, then where you gonna be?”

“I got it all worked out, and if you do like I say, it’ll work out for you, too, cousin of mine.”

She stepped close, put one hand on his chest, the other on the jug. “How so?”

“Come on inside, and I’ll tell you.”

She pulled back, taking the jug with her. “You got one of these for me?”

“Course, but you best not tell Auntie where you got it if she catches you.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about her. You best be hoping Pappy don’t ever find out what we been doing all these years.” 

Henry didn’t much cotton to the way things turned out, but mercy, Mary-no-more-Rachel was pert near grown, and even though almost as pigheaded as her mother, she also had plenty of him; a good level head on her shoulders.

No doubt she’d missed the advantage of a mother the last six years, important years for a young lady, but she’d had Rebecca.

That Caleb, though. Something about the boy troubled Henry, but he sure seemed to be in love. Quite the gentleman, too, or so it seemed.

Been coming every Saturday, and never even a hint of him wanting to slip Mary Rachel off. Didn’t have a problem sleeping in the bunk house with John Paul’s cousins either.

Henry figured that might run him off first time, but everyone seemed to speak highly of the young man.

The stage swayed extra big. May bumped his shoulder hard, way harder than necessary. “Cheer up, Mary Rachel will be fine.”

He glanced across the coach; all three of his babies were reading books. The two pilgrims in the middle seats were engrossed in a card game. He hated traveling.

“I know.” He leaned in close and kissed his wife’s cheek then put his mouth to her ear. “But I still hate her backing out at the last minute.”

She nodded then kissed him back. “If those two yaps couldn’t steal Laura from Levi and Wallace, Caleb doesn’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t know. That young man is way smarter than that lovesick Comanche. You’ve seen how smitten Mary Rachel is.”

She poked him in the ribs. “Stop being a worry wart. Everything will be fine. You’ve reared a wonderful, smart young lady. She’s got a level head like her daddy.”

He smiled, didn’t tell her he’d just thought the same thing. But he still hated it all to blue blazes that she was home and not with him. On the bright side, so far Bonnie had been great. He chuckled.

She elbow poked him. “What?”

“Oh, just thinking how good Bonnie’s being, then compared it to how Houston would have been.”

May laughed. “Oh, dear Lord have mercy! Can you imagine taking our little wild man all the way to London?”

“No, getting him to church of a Sunday is bad enough.”