The Brides of Chance Collection Part 2

"You're not a bother. Now hush and sleep." He turned, paced out of the room, and shut the door to give her privacy.

All five men sat at the breakfast table, drank Miriam's restaurant-perfect coffee, and ate her melt-in-your-mouth biscuits. t.i.tus looked around. "This place is a pigsty."

Gideon nodded. "I don't want her waking up and coming out to this. Hannah was always finicky about cleanliness; I don't imagine Miss Miriam will be any less so. Bryce, you get all of the stuff up off the floor and carry it back out to the stable. t.i.tus, you wash the dishes. I don't reckon we have a clean one left in the whole house."

Gideon knew his brothers didn't welcome those orders. Because they all worked from can-see-to-can't, seven days a week, those ch.o.r.es normally went undone. They'd shed the burden of domestic frills as soon as there wasn't a woman around to protest. The problem was, a woman occupied the house again.

He continued, "Logan, you're going to have to use sand to scrub the junk off the floor. Everyone needs to get back in the habit of sc.r.a.ping off their boots before they come in. For a few days here, we're gonna have to act civilized."

Bryce scowled at him. "You're mighty good at makin' us do the dirty work. What're you putting your hand to?"

Gideon wrinkled his nose. "I'm going to wash the stuff from her clothes."

Logan nodded. "I got it on mine, too. I'll toss them in the pot."

Gideon muttered as all of them volunteered him to do their laundry. He'd rather do just about anything but laundry. Since he was the eldest, he usually managed to order someone else to do the ch.o.r.e. The only reason he'd been ready to do it was because he didn't cotton to the notion of his brothers touching prim little Miriam's unmentionables. Frankly, he didn't want to deal with them, either. It went against all decency, but he'd left her trunks in town, and the woman needed something to wear. Stuck between a rattler and a brushfire. Gideon let out a gusty sigh. "Let's get to work."

Everyone set to his ch.o.r.es. t.i.tus left most of the dishes to soak in three big tubs. He took the pots down to the creek for a sand scouring. Bryce hauled an armful of junk out to the stable, then milked the cow before he came back. He set down the milk pail, hauled out the harness, and came back with the eggs he'd gathered.

Logan took out the swill to slop the hogs, came back, scowled at the floor, and grumbled, "Don't know why I have to scrub it. It'll be dirty again, soon as anyone walks across it. Can't see wasting my time." His brothers all gave him nasty looks, so he grabbed the broom.

After shaving half a cake of soap into the wash kettle, Gideon set it over a fire in the yard and filled it with water. As it started to heat, he paced back into the cabin. Quietly as he could, he eased the bedroom door open and tiptoed in. He stood still for a moment, but he didn't hear a thing. Every step he took sounded clumsily loud as he walked across the planks to gather shirts and britches off the pegs and floor. Finally, he reached the far side of the room and paused outside the blanket part.i.tion.

"Miss Miriam, I aim to fetch the laundry if you don't mind."

She failed to answer, so he peered in to be sure she was okay. He strained to listen and heard soft breaths in a slow, deep cadence. Good. She's sleeping. Moving away, he snagged his shirts off the pegs, used the toe of his boot to hook out the blanket stacked with her soiled clothing, and finally went to the other end. He reached under the bed to get his grime-encrusted britches.

In morning light, she looked more delicate, more ethereal. The way her braid unraveled across the pillow invited a man to test each rippling, golden wave.

Hannah's kid sister-the one he'd heard her mention and somehow pictured as a schoolgirl in pigtails-was an eyeful of femininity. Gideon tamped down that line of thought and beat a hasty retreat. He left the clothes by the boiling laundry pot and headed toward Daniel's tiny cottage.

The Chance men never stood on formalities. Gideon walked in without knocking and scooped Polly from the floor. Over at the table, Daniel tried to get Virginia to take one more sip of apple cider. The two of them seemed to be wearing more of the contents of the gla.s.s than drinking it.

"I'm doing laundry," Gideon announced as he started to toss clothes into a crate.

"Great!"

After he filled the crate, he turned and looked at his brother. Daniel showed remarkable patience with his two little ones. Three-year-old Polly chattered twenty to the dozen, and Virginia had hit the walking stage a few days earlier.

After Hannah died, Daniel had advertised for a housekeeper, but the only one who responded made it clear she held far more interest in matrimony than in mending. After a short time, it became clear that for the sake of Daniel's sanity, the Chance brothers were going to have to handle matters on their own. They devised a simple solution: Each man took a day every week to watch the girls. Daniel took both Wednesday and Sunday since the girls were his, and he minded them from sundown to sunup all of the time.

"Dan, we've got a visitor."

"Oh?" Daniel wiped Ginny Mae's face. "Who?"

Gideon watched his brother intently. "Miriam Hanc.o.c.k came into town last night."

"Miriam?" Dan looked dazed. "What is she doing here?"

"It seems Hannah wrote her and mentioned she didn't feel well. Miriam came to help her out."

"Why'd she do a foolish thing like that? Letters take up to eight months to get there!"

"Don't ask me to figure out the mind of a woman. Fact remains, Miriam is here. I figured I'd best tell you before you ran into her in the yard. I'm sure she'll want to see her nieces today."

"How long is she planning to stay?"

"I didn't ask."

As it was Sat.u.r.day, it was Gideon's day to have the girls. He popped both of them into the fenced-off play area Daniel had made to contain the girls while his brothers did yard ch.o.r.es. Some of the clothes were so badly soiled, Gideon couldn't even put them in the wash kettle. He toted them down to the creek, knelt, and swished the worst of the grime from them. Beating them on a rock worked, but he had neither the time nor the patience to do much of that. Instead, he hauled them all back to the fire.

Steam rose from the huge, cast-iron cauldron. The soap bubbled a bit on the surface. Yeah, that looked just like it did when Mama used to have laundry day. Satisfied with the wash water, he dumped in Miriam's white clothes and stirred them with a paddle. After he made sure they'd come clean, he double rinsed them so the lye residue wouldn't irritate her delicate skin or rot the thin cotton fabric, then wrung out each snowy garment and hung it on the clothesline. It seemed mighty strange to see a woman's things there.

He washed the baby's white things next, then did the rest of the laundry. It was a hot, miserable job, and he didn't feel guilty in the least for how he kept leaving things in the pot to boil a bit while he went off to tickle Polly or play peekaboo with Ginny Mae.

Once all the clothes fluttered in the wind, he hitched each of the girls under his arms and hiked over to the garden. They played in the dirt and mud while he staked up the tomatoes and watered the melons and beans. Polly was giggling, and Ginny Mae just about put a worm in her mouth when Gideon looked up to see Miriam standing there. He s.n.a.t.c.hed the worm from Ginny Mae and stammered, "They're dirty right now, but they're good girls."

A tender smile lit her face. "They're beautiful, and they'll clean up. Little girls deserve to make mud pies." She self-consciously tugged at her robe, then stooped down. Instead of grabbing, she simply opened her arms. Polly went right to her. "h.e.l.lo, poppet. You're my Polly-girl, and you are every bit as precious as your mama said."

Polly rubbed her hand up and down the soft fabric of her aunt's green dressing gown. "Pretty."

A becoming blush stained her cheeks. "Yes, well, Auntie Miriam needs her clothes."

"They're on the clothesline. It's hot today, so they'll be dry in a few hours," Gideon said.

"What about my trunks?"

"They're in town. I'll see if we can't fetch them in a day or two."

"In the meantime, I'll take the girls inside with me. There's plenty to do. I'm sure you have more than enough to accomplish."

He looked at her, then slowly said, "It's my day to have the girls."

"Your day?"

"We each take a day. Daniel takes two days since they're his daughters."

Still fussing with her dressing gown, she murmured, "Seeing as I'm able to mind the girls, I'm sure you have much to do elsewhere."

"I won't deny that, but I don't know that leaving the girls with you is such a keen plan. Polly doesn't cotton to strangers."

"Polly and I will get along famously." One of the brothers walked past. Miriam wasn't sure which one he was, but she blushed at the way he eyed her in her night wear. "So if you'll excuse us, we'll be off."

He cast a glance at his brother's back, then eyed her attire with a frown. "You can't traipse around in that all day. Borrow something from your sister's trunk."

"I don't know if I can. I-"

"I'll handle it with Daniel. Go on inside."

She took both girls back toward the cottage. The dirt felt good under her bare feet. After all of that time on a ship, she wanted solid earth beneath her for the rest of her days. The slight breeze carried the scents of pine, horses, and hay. Men's baritones mingled in the background, a deep counterpoint to the musical trills of songbirds and the scolds of jays.

This place was all that her life in the islands had not been. The air felt dry, not humid. The flowers were plentiful but tiny instead of cloying and exuberant. Browns and muted greens dominated the landscape instead of a kaleidoscope of brilliant jewel tones. These men crowded in one home, shared one bedroom. This was a far cry from the stringent rules they lived by back home to ensure privacy, modesty, and decorum. In odd juxtaposition to that, everyone here-except for her, she thought wryly-was completely dressed; whereas back home, the natives wore only the barest minimum.

Dear, sweet Hannah scribbled letters in secret, telling how she hated living here. Homesickness, she confessed, plagued her. The cold weather made her spirits plummet, and no matter how hard she worked, everything looked dismal and dusty. The brothers were all good men, but she felt sadly outnumbered and lonely for female companionship. Mama and Daddy listened with grave misgivings to Miriam's offer to go help her sister, but they'd decided it was for the best. Clearly, with six men and a second child on the way, Hannah couldn't take care of matters on her own anymore.

As Miriam left, Mama had whispered, "There are no decent, G.o.d-fearing white men here for you, darling. Surely Miriam will introduce you to a few worthy young men of good character."

Miriam looked about and cuddled the girls a bit closer. Worthy young men wouldn't be a part of her life. Moping about that wouldn't do much good. All her life, Papa taught her to deal with whatever G.o.d allowed to happen in life without complaint. Hannah heard that same speech countless times, so for her to have poured out her laments underscored the gravity of her plight.

Miriam ached to have a husband and children of her own. At twenty, she didn't exactly rate as an old maid, but she couldn't expect Daniel and his brothers to play matchmaker for her. Since she'd come and Hannah was gone, she knew her destiny lay in being a spinster aunt. Surely G.o.d had sent her here. These girls needed a woman's caring. Polly's tangled and matted hair bore mute testimony to that fact. Miriam quietly and immediately accepted the bittersweet fact that if she couldn't have a man and babes of her own, she'd at least have dear Hannah's wee ones to cherish.

Off to the side of the main house, two big trees bracketed a tiny cottage. Hannah's letters mentioned the brothers building a "habitation" for her. Surely this was it. Miriam hitched Virginia Mae higher on her hip and stepped across the threshold. The building was a tiny box of a place-a simple, one-room affair. Once she winced at the mess, Miriam noted the room featured no kitchen. The fireplace was tiny-only enough to warm this little place but not big enough to cook over. A small cabinet on the wall and a pint-size table and chairs were the only things that defined one corner. The rest of the place held a bed, a trundle that was undoubtedly Polly's, and a crib for the baby. She deduced Hannah must've been making meals for all six of the Chance men over at the main house.

Unable to navigate the room without stepping and tripping on things, Miriam made a game of picking up Daniel's possessions. The little toddlers had fun holding items up for her reactions. She'd pinch her nose and point at one corner for laundry. Though someone had done laundry today, they'd missed half of the load from this residence.

It was more than embarra.s.sing to stay in her night wear. She checked the clothesline and sighed. Her sodden clothes still dripped on the line. Unaccustomed to the weather here, she couldn't tell how long before her dress would be dry. Much as she didn't want to go through Hannah's things, Miriam decided to obey Gideon's instructions.

Back in the cottage, she found Hannah's trunk. As she opened the lid, Miriam cried. They'd always shared clothes, and she knew her sister wouldn't begrudge her these essentials; but the scent of Hannah's perfume brought back a flood of memories, and seeing her favorite fan, even touching her clothing, tore at Miriam. She desperately wanted to slam the lid back down. Gideon said they'd fetch her things in a few days- surely she could tolerate wearing only one set of clothing for a while.

Ginny Mae tugged on her arm. The sleeve pulled, causing the wrapped bodice of her robe to gap and expose her nightgown. Miriam pulled the baby into her lap and cradled her there. Polly tugged on the other side.

"I gotta go potty, Auntie Miri-Em."

Miriam hadn't located a chamber pot in this mess. She dried her tears. "Can you wait just a minute, Polly?"

Polly nodded.

Miriam hastily went through the trunk. The pieced skirt on the blue dress didn't conform to any style. Feed sacks. Hannah made these out of feed sacks-and she st.i.tched huge waists to permit her room for her family condition. Miriam delved deeper and located a rose-colored gown she'd sewn for her sister's trousseau. That and a few other essentials would serve satisfactorily. She latched the cottage door shut and changed.

Once she'd dressed, Miriam took Polly to the outhouse and came back to the little cottage. Dressed in decent attire, she felt free to move about and do whatever she deemed fit. She opened the door wide to air out the cottage and dusted. Polly followed her like a lonely little puppy, and Virginia Mae toddled behind. Miriam gave them each a cloth, and they "helped." She shoved the trundle beneath the bed, then picked up a few more stray items that had fallen there before she swept.

Spoons and cups went onto the table, and blankets were piled onto the beds. Whimsical wooden animals kept turning up. The Chance men must enjoy whittling, because they'd turned out a plethora of miniature beasts. Miriam admired each one for her little nieces, then stored them all in a bowl. "Like Noah's ark," she said.

Polly gave her a perplexed look.

Miriam knelt and used the bowl like a boat as she tried to remind the little tyke about the Bible story. Clearly Polly hadn't heard it before. That fact alarmed Miriam. Weren't these men rearing the girls to know the Holy Scriptures?

Miriam busied the girls with the wooden creatures and set to earnest work. The clothesline had a bit more s.p.a.ce on it, but she earmarked that for the remaining laundry. The blankets all needed airing, so she cast them over several shrubs and weighted them down with a few rocks to keep them from blowing into the dirt. Though it seemed bold, she stripped the sheets from Daniel's bed and added them to the laundry pile. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. Now that she thought about it, there hadn't been a single sheet on any of the beds back in the main house. These men were barely civilized.

Boots crunched leaves outside. Miriam turned as Gideon filled the doorway and cast a shadow across the room.

"This place hasn't looked like this since-" He stopped short, then finished diplomatically, "For a long time."

They exchanged stricken looks, then Miriam pivoted to the side and washed her hands in a bucket. She dipped in a cloth and swiped at the dust and mud on Virginia's hands and face. "I a.s.sume it's close to your luncheon hour. The girls and I will come to the big house and-"

She didn't finish. Someone else arrived. Miriam heard a shocked gasp. Though she hadn't heard it in almost five years, she recognized Daniel's voice. "Hannah!"

Chapter 5.

Gideon watched Miriam go stark still. She slowly turned, and deep sadness painted her features. Tears glistened in her eyes. "Daniel. I'm so sorry-"

Sensing his brother's shock, Gideon braced his arm. This was a terrible blow. Daniel had adored his bride, and the grief still ate at him. The longing and hope on his face changed to nothing short of hatred.

"Dan, I told her to-"

"How dare you! Take that off."

Miriam's lips parted in shock.

Daniel leaned forward, and his hands knotted to fists that shook with the effort it took to keep them down at his sides. He demanded in a tone that trembled with rage, "Take it off! How dare you touch her things!"

"Dan-" Gideon tried to calm his brother but to no avail.

Daniel shook off Gideon's hand, wheeled around, and plowed out the door. Virginia Mae's voice echoed in the suddenly all-too-quiet cottage. "Daddy! Daddy!"

Gideon turned back to Miriam. She'd curled her hands around the slats of a chair as if to sh.o.r.e herself up after receiving a hefty blow. She kept blinking and breathed through her mouth to hold back the tears that welled up. "Miriam, I'm sorry. This was my fault."

She bit her lip, then quavered, "Please go give him my apology."

His heart went out to her. She'd just followed his instructions and hadn't knowingly done anything to upset her brother-in-law. Truth be told, she did look enough like her sister to cause a grieving man to mistake her for the woman he'd loved. He searched to find the right words to soften her hurt, but nothing came to mind.

"Please," she whispered brokenly, "go."

Gideon nodded once, then left her to whatever anguish she felt. Of all his brothers, Daniel was the most volatile. Five years ago, he'd been off drinking in San Francisco when he got shanghaied. While his ship docked in the islands, he'd met Hannah. He never said a thing about that year of his life. He'd come back a more contained, disciplined man. Gideon wasn't sure whether marriage or his time aboard ship had done that, but since Hannah died, there were days when Daniel's rage knew no bounds.

Daniel went out to the woodpile. The ring of the ax splitting wood let Gideon know where he was and to keep a wary distance. He stood and watched his brother work himself into a full lather before he finally said, "It was a shock, Dan, but she didn't mean to upset you. It's my fault-I told her to borrow something."

Daniel set the next piece on the chopping stump and split it with a single powerful blow. The storm in his eyes matched the violence of his action. He set the next log up, then gritted, "No one touches my Hannah's things. No one."

"Fair enough."

"Get rid of that woman. I don't want her here."

It was worse than he'd imagined. Gideon hitched his hip and half-sat on the fence. He moved slowly in an effort to appear casual and untroubled. "I don't reckon that's going to be possible for a few days. She came a long ways and needs to rest before-"

Daniel cut him off by repeating in an unyielding tone, "I don't want her here."

"What did she ever do to you?"

"Look at her. Just look! They could have been twins!"