The Homesteader's Sweetheart (8 page)

BOOK: The Homesteader's Sweetheart
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Penny grimaced. A
cold
bath?

“You’ll want to be clean for Sunday services in the morning.”

She’d forgotten tomorrow was Sunday. Or maybe she’d put it out of her mind, because the two dresses she’d brought with her had been ruined. She had nothing to wear.

“Grandfather, I’ve ruined both the dresses I brought with me.” One with soot and the other with milk and mud.

“Don’t guess folks will care if you’re a little messy. We’re a casual bunch in Bear Creek.”

“Well,
I
care.” She regretted her sharp tone instantly. Her grandfather had enough troubles without having to worry about clothing her. But she
couldn’t
wear either of her gowns to church, where people would see her. It was bad enough that Jonas and his family had seen her all a mess.

“Reckon you could wear one of your grandmama’s gowns. They’re plainer than what you’re used to…” His voice trailed off as he went back into his bedroom.

Penny grimaced. Wear something her grandmother had worn? But they would be old and out of style! How could she let her grandfather down gently?

Walt brought out a plain blue calico dress and presented it to Penny with a proud flourish. “It should be a close fit. You’re as tall as your grandmamma and near enough the same shape.”

Penny flushed at his frank words, and Sam chuckled. She glared at her brother, who shrugged in false innocence.

The dress was unembellished, with none of the lacy frills Penny liked. But it was unstained, and that’s what her grandfather seemed to think mattered.

“She made it herself.” Pride colored her grandfather’s voice.

Penny wasn’t surprised by his statement. She remembered learning some of the basic stitches at her grandmother’s knee. Probably at a much older age than most other girls would have learned. Penny’s mother didn’t believe her daughter needed to know how to sew a garment, not when she could afford to buy finery from the seamstress in Calvin or one in Cheyenne. But her gran had shared her love of sewing, and Penny had learned as much as she could during the summers she spent at the homestead.

It was the one wifely skill Penny
did
have. Though her abilities were probably rusty from disuse now.

But she couldn’t wear this dress. “I can’t—” She swallowed back the instant denial on her lips as her grandfather pushed the dress into her hands.

“You can, Penny-girl.” His gaze seemed to intensify and she remembered how kind he’d been to listen to her worries about her father and Mr. Abbott out by the barn. “’Sides, it’s what’s on the inside of the dress that’s beautiful. That’s what matters.”

She frowned, but accepted the dress. Maybe, after her bath, she could try to wash out one of her gowns. If she could get most of the stains out, perhaps it would dry by morning? Then she wouldn’t have to hurt her grandfather’s feelings by not wearing this dress.

“Thought you might like to borrow this while you’re visiting, too.” Walt placed a well-worn Bible in her lap. “It was your gran’s. What made her so beautiful on the inside.”

Penny looked down at the faded book. How many times had she seen her gran reading this at the kitchen table, in between cooking or sewing or other chores?

But the Bible wasn’t likely to make her grandfather forget about the dress he wanted her to wear to church tomorrow.

Chapter Eight

P
enny felt numerous eyes on her as the Whites’ wagon rolled into the churchyard. She was conspicuous on the wagon seat; everyone could see her in her grandmother’s dress.

The results of washing one of her gowns had been disastrous. The silk had still been a damp, wrinkly mess this morning and most of the stains hadn’t come out anyway. So she’d had no choice but to wear the scratchy calico that was sadly out of date. She’d almost considered pretending to be ill, but knew she couldn’t disappoint her grandfather.

And the first people to see her this morning had been all of the Whites, because apparently her grandfather liked the company on his way to church services every Sunday. Thankfully, Jonas and his sons had been too polite to comment on her appearance.

“You planning to come down from there?”

She looked down into Jonas’s frowning brown eyes as he reached up for her. Not waiting for an answer, his strong hands clasped her waist, spanning it easily. He hoisted her off the wagon seat without ceremony and deposited her on the ground.

“I feel like everyone’s looking at me,” she whispered, huddling behind him, half-aware that his hands remained at her waist. Had his shoulders been this broad when he’d helped her in and out of the wagon just days ago?

“They probably are.”

She looked up at him sharply; his eyes squinted a little, scrutinizing her face, their brown depths unreadable.

“We don’t have a lot of visitors, so newcomers like you and Sam are a novelty.”

“’Specially someone as pretty as you, Miss Penny,” Breanna inserted, face appearing between the two adults as she looked up at them. Her presence spurred Penny to step back, leaving Jonas’s hands to fall away from her waist.

“Especially someone as pretty as you,” Jonas echoed softly, looking surprised even as the words left his mouth. He took his daughter’s hand, and they turned toward the clapboard building, following the gaggle of boys.

Penny joined her grandfather, noting the way his eyes glanced curiously from Jonas to her.

Jonas’s compliment had bolstered her spirits for a brief moment, but a glance at a pair of prettily dressed young women approaching the church building on foot brought Penny’s discomfort right back.

Sam shuffled his feet behind them.

Inside Penny ended up squished into a row between Breanna and Sam, next to the rest of the Whites.

Jonas’s robust baritone, from his place just on the other side of Breanna, surprised her into distraction as the small congregation stood and sang the first songs, but as the group sat down for the sermon, she caught a glance from a young man across the aisle.

His eyes held a frank appraisal, but all Penny could feel was embarrassment at being caught out in her grandmother’s dress. She knew she was blushing, her face most likely mottling red, but she couldn’t help it.

Movement from Breanna gave Penny an excuse to look away, and she glanced down at the girl to find her with her head turned in Penny’s direction. Jonas cleared his throat softly and Breanna returned her attention to the preacher. Jonas sent Penny a reproving frown above his daughter’s head.

Blushing even more furiously, she attempted to pay attention to the sermon.

But the unexpected attraction to Jonas White made it difficult. The shared moments as he’d helped her from the wagon before services had surprised her.

No longer was he the shy teen she remembered from Philadelphia, the boy who would barely meet her eyes if she encountered him on her way out of the finishing school. Although he still seemed to be somewhat quiet in disposition, he had obviously made a success of his homestead, in order to support himself and eight children.

The reminder of his circumstances brought an abrupt halt to her musings. Even if the fluttering in her stomach
was
attraction—and it could possibly be accounted for by the single biscuit and glass of milk she’d eaten this morning—she would never act on it. She wanted to fall in love with and marry someone who could support her in the style to which she was accustomed. She would simply have to be careful in her interactions with the homesteader.

Sam shifted next to her and her attention shifted as well. He’d been sullen and silent this morning as they’d readied to leave from their grandfather’s home; then he’d been downright rude and ignored two of Jonas’s sons when they’d tried to engage him in conversation.

If Sam caused trouble for Walt, he was likely to get them both sent home. And she didn’t want to be back in Calvin, where she would be subject to Mr. Abbott’s attentions.

In addition, Walt needed help. If Sam messed up, who would take care of things at his homestead?

* * *

“Hey!”

“Oomph!”

The sound of fists meeting flesh and the knowledge that her brother had slipped away had Penny scurrying around the side of the church building in time to see Sam wrestle another boy to the ground.

“Sam!” she shrieked, lifting her skirt to try and reach her brother before he could hurt the other boy.

“Hey, stop!” Another voice joined hers, and one of Jonas’s older sons joined the scuffle. He made a valiant effort to contain the fistfight, but managed only to receive a punch in the face when he got in the middle.

Before Penny could determine if she should step in, Jonas and Walt pushed past her and took control of the situation. Penny saw Walt receive an inadvertent elbow to the ribs and he hunched over, wheezing as he tried to breathe. She rushed to his side. “Grandfather!”

Jonas drew both fighting boys to their feet, grasping each by their upper arm. His son, she thought it was Oscar, stood nearby, one hand holding his nose.

“What’s going on here?” Jonas demanded. “Why aren’t you boys over at the food tables? You’re supposed to be joining the picnic.”

“He insulted my sister,” said the boy Penny didn’t know, pointing a finger at Sam.

Sam stood silent, clothes mussed. His sullen refusal to meet any of their eyes made him look guilty.

Jonas looked to his son who said, “I wasn’t close enough to hear. I only saw them go for each other at the same time and tried to stop them fighting.”

“Sam, how could you?” Penny asked, still supporting her Grandfather’s elbow as he continued to wheeze. “We’re supposed to be helping Grandfather, not getting into trouble.”

“I didn’t ask to be sent out here. That was all you and Mama. I’d rather be back home.”

“Sam!” Penny exclaimed, but her brother jerked away from Jonas’s hold and stalked off among the wagons parked in front of the church building. Penny wondered if she should go after him, but her grandfather still wasn’t breathing correctly and she knew anything she said to Sam in the heat of the moment would be brushed off.

“He reminds me a bit of Edgar when he first came to me… Needs some hard work and some discipline.” Jonas uttered the terse words and then moved away, clapping a hand on his son’s shoulder as he guided the boy away from the scene of the confrontation.

Walt still fought for breath. The rattle in his chest concerned Penny deeply. He hadn’t seemed sick since she and Sam had arrived, but this breathing trouble could be serious. She hooked her hand under the older man’s elbow as he coughed once more and then finally seemed to catch his breath.

“I think Jonas is right.” Walt straightened, wiping a stray drop of spittle from his chin with the back of one hand. “Your pa’s spoiled that boy. A strong hand is what he needs.”

Perhaps so, but who would provide it? They were only visiting Walt for a couple of weeks, and then Sam would return to the same situation at home.

“Are you certain you’re all right?” Penny asked, instead of commenting on her brother’s actions. “Have you caught your breath?”

“I’ll be fine, Penny-girl. Why don’t you go get some grub?”

In the scuffle and resulting chaos, she’d nearly forgotten they were to join the picnicking families from the church. She didn’t particularly feel like socializing, not wearing this uncomfortable dress, and not after her brother had just caused a dust-up. She could see several people on the fringes of the food tables glancing in their direction.

“Miss Penny, Miss Penny!” Breanna came running, hair flying loose behind her. Why hadn’t Jonas put it in a braid?

“Come sit with us! I helped fill you a plate…”

Letting the girl’s words flow over her, Penny allowed herself to be dragged by the hand to a worn, quilted blanket where Jonas sat alone. Head down, he seemed pensive and separate from those surrounding him; alone in a crowd of chattering families.

“I found Miss Penny,” Breanna announced, flouncing down onto the blanket with no sense of decorum, her skirt flying up as she did so.

Penny gently lowered herself to the blanket, smoothing the calico skirt so that no one got a view of her legs. She accepted the overloaded plate Jonas handed her with a silent nod of thanks.

“What happened with your brother?” Breanna waved an ear of corn toward the direction they’d just come from.

Penny waited for Jonas to correct his daughter’s impolite behavior as it wasn’t fitting to gesture with one’s food like that, but he had tucked into his own dinner and hadn’t seemed to notice Breanna’s action.

“He’s caused a bit of trouble, hasn’t he?” Penny knew the young girl was likely to ask more questions, so she changed the subject. “Where are your brothers? Aren’t they going to join us?”

Penny spared a glance to see if her grandfather had gotten his food yet. She wanted to ensure he was all right after that coughing fit.

Breanna waved her arm around, this time thankfully without the ear of corn clutched in her fingers. “They’s too busy playin’ with friends to eat now. Reckon they’ll get somethin’ afore we leave. ’Sides all they want to talk about is bronc ridin’ in the Round Up.”

The young girl scrunched up her nose as if disgusted with her brothers’ chosen topic. Then with a shrug, she dug into her food, with no regard for the fork lying on the blanket nearby. She used her hands to bring a piece of pie to her mouth.

Penny looked down, unable to watch. Why didn’t Jonas say something to his daughter? Didn’t he mind that her manners were lacking? Penny remembered the chaos surrounding the Whites’ dining table just yesterday and couldn’t be sure.

“I’m disappointed Grandfather and I couldn’t bring anything to contribute for supper.” Although it didn’t stop Penny from taking a dainty bite of fried chicken. Delicious.

“’s a’ight,” Breanna said around a mouthful of corn. “We brung loads of stuff.”

“Breanna, it’s not polite to speak with your mouth full of food.” Penny couldn’t help gently chiding the girl when it was obvious Jonas wasn’t going to correct her.

“Miss Castlerock—” Jonas started.

Breanna looked abashed. She gulped a huge swallow, brown eyes large in her face. “Sorry, miss.”

A glance at Jonas revealed his tight jaw; he probably wasn’t happy with her interfering, but the girl needed to be taught. Penny comforted Breanna with a pat on her hand. “It’s all right.”

Penny dabbed her mouth with her handkerchief. “A lady must be polite at all times.”

Breanna started to open her mouth midchew, then apparently thought better of it. She swallowed, then spoke. “Reckon I ain’t much of a lady, Miss Penny.”

“Breanna is just a little girl,” Jonas stated, looking as if he wanted to say more.

Penny admired his desire to defend his daughter, but without a mother’s influence, how could the girl learn? “Yes, but it’s never too early to learn proper manners,” Penny insisted.

Jonas looked as if he wanted to argue, but how could he? Breanna
did
need to learn manners.

Breanna seemed so disheartened, staring down at her plate with a wobbly bottom lip, that Penny offered, “Perhaps I could teach you some of the social graces.”

Breanna’s face lit up.

“Just while I’m staying with my grandfather, you understand,” Penny was careful to clarify.

“Oh, Miss Penny, yes!” Breanna exclaimed, plate clattering to the blanket as she clapped her hands together. A little gravy spilled over the side of the plate, staining the blanket.

Breanna became distracted when a little girl who looked to be about her same age approached the blanket.

Jonas’s expression remained closed off; he kept his gaze on his plate. Penny’s offer had been sincere, but she hoped she hadn’t offended him.

“I hope I’ve not overstepped where I shouldn’t have,” she said softly.

A muscle ticked in Jonas’s jaw, though he kept his head bowed over his tin plate. “Perhaps my parenting skills are suspect, but Breanna doesn’t know any better than to act as she does.”

She
had
offended him. Why couldn’t she learn to curb her tongue? “I’m certain you’re doing the best you can with the children. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea where to begin…”

“Well, I don’t know much about…what did you say?
Social graces.
” His words were quiet and she had to lean closer to hear him, bringing their heads close.

Penny regretted her handling of the situation. Jonas had been nothing but kind to her and her family, first by providing her and Sam a ride in his wagon, and then allowing them to share meals at his table. Was there a way she could make things right?

BOOK: The Homesteader's Sweetheart
2.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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