The Brides of Chance Collection Part 35

Delilah woke up the next morning and stretched groggily. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she tried to pick out a few details to remind her of where she was. It definitely didn't look like a barn or stable, nor did it seem like a hotel. The room contained only one window covered by a flap of fabric. The sun wasn't completely up yet, so everything stayed cast in varying degrees of shadow. She lay ensconced in a snug bed and could make out a chair against the wall. A small potbelly stove graced one corner, with a washstand taking up residence as the only other furniture in the room. She remembered placing her drawing supplies in the washstand's convenient drawer and filling only a few of the many pegs on the walls with her clothes. Long ago, she'd learned unpacking was the only way to make a strange room more comfortable.

The door opened quietly, bringing in a blast of frigid morning air. Miriam poked her head in the room to whisper, "Delilah?"

Yes, she remembered clearly now. She'd buried Papa and gone to Miriam's ranch, taking the home of one of the Chance brothers. She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"I'm awake." Leaving the snug warmth of the bed, Delilah padded across the cool floor in her bare feet.

"I need to make breakfast, so I thought you'd like to watch before you have your first real lesson later today," Miriam invited.

Delilah nodded. "I'll be dressed in a minute." Miriam carefully closed the door, and Delilah crept over to the table where her valise sat. She changed out of her nightgown into her yellow cambric day dress. The dress she'd worn while traveling here currently boasted more dust than cloth, and she only owned one other. The primrose satin evening gown her father had purchased in a spurt of indulgence after a good gaming streak wasn't appropriate for ranch work. She'd brushed and braided her hair before bed last night, after Polly and Ginny Mae let her do the same for them. She quickly twisted the braid on top of her head and pinned it into place. She left the cabin as Alisa walked across the yard toward her.

"Good morning, Alisa."

"Good morning, Delilah. Did you sleep well?"

Delilah took enough time to a.s.sure the kindhearted woman that she had slept very well before hurrying into the main cabin.

"What are you going to make?" Delilah wanted to know what she was getting herself into.

"The men can hardly crack their eyes open without their morning coffee. Then I thought we'd start with something easy-scrambled eggs and diced ham." Miriam handed her the coffeepot. "If you'd like, you can pump this full of water."

Delilah did as she was asked, then pulled out plates, gla.s.ses, knives, and forks to set the table.

Miriam brought out a salted ham hock. "Why don't you watch as I cut the first bit? Then you can try your hand at it." This seemed easy enough-Delilah didn't lack competence with a knife.

"All right, you try it." Miriam nodded her approval as Delilah started shaving and chopping. "You have a sharp eye and a steady hand. That's good." Together they finished the ham, and Delilah, starting to feel more comfortable, waited for further instructions. Miriam brought out a huge bowl.

"I still have plenty of eggs left from yesterday, so we're all set. You tap 'em on the edge of the bowl, like this." She demonstrated in one swift movement. "Then part the halves and let the egg run into the bowl. See?"

Miriam made it look absolutely effortless. Heartened, Delilah resolutely picked up an egg and brought it down on the rim of the bowl. With a crack that all but echoed in the morning stillness, the sh.e.l.l split completely and yellow goop slimed the tabletop.

Miriam started laughing. "Gently!" She wiped up the table with a rag and handed Delilah another egg. "All right, give it another shot."

Delilah put down the egg. "I don't want to waste them."

Miriam smiled. "That was just your first try. I did the very same thing. Try again."

This time, Delilah tapped it so gently, the sh.e.l.l didn't boast so much as a crack. She looked helplessly at Miriam.

"Just keep tapping it a little harder each time until you get the feel for it. Be careful, and you'll get it right." In no time at all, Delilah got the hang of it, and three dozen eggs floated in the bowl.

"Now what?"

"We stir it until the clear and the yellow run together. Here." She gave Delilah a wooden spoon, and Delilah followed her instructions, then poured half of the mixture into a large, greased skillet waiting on the stove.

"Mix it periodically and add in the ham." Miriam demonstrated. It cooked until a mess of scrambled eggs and ham sat ready to be put on a platter.

"Now try cooking the other half while I warm some bread." Miriam pulled two loaves from the bread box and began slicing.

Delilah took the pan and poured the rest of the eggs into it. She watched intently for it to bubble, then pounced to stir it as soon as it began. Some of the goop seemed stuck on the bottom.

"Miriam? Why do mine stick to the pan when yours didn't?"

Her cousin hustled over to take a look. "I forgot to tell you that you need to regrease the pan. It'll be difficult to scrub clean, but your eggs'll be fine. Just keep moving them around until they look like mine."

Pretty soon, they looked finished, and Delilah emptied the contents of the pan onto the platter. Following more advice, she filled the dirty pan with water from the pump.

Miriam had just finished placing b.u.t.ter and preserves on the table when Gideon wandered in. "Sure smells good in here, sweetheart."

"Thank you. Fresh coffee's on the stove, and Delilah here helped me make ham 'n' eggs for breakfast."

Gideon turned to Delilah. "Good morning, Delilah. If you're half the cook my Miriam is, we'll keep you busy for sure."

Delilah confessed. "Actually, this is the first time I've cooked anything. I hope it tastes all right."

Logan and Bryce stumbled into the room toward the basin, followed by Dan and Paul. Dan started cutting toast into little strips and putting them on a tiny plate. Paul grabbed the milk and filled two small gla.s.ses. He turned to her.

"Miss Delilah, would you like milk, water, or coffee this morning?" His gaze was as penetrating as the day before, and her nerves tingled as heat spread through her.

"I'd like the milk, please." She loved fresh milk. "And please just call me Delilah. No *miss' is needed." That was for sure. With her twenty-first birthday fast approaching, she knew most girls her age had already started families. Somehow, she didn't want this intriguing man to think of that every time they spoke.

"Delilah." He said it softly, testing it out, but the way he said it made it sound beautiful.

t.i.tus came in, leading Alisa and their nieces. Everyone took a seat. Gideon presided at the head of the table, with Miriam on his right. Delilah hastened to sit on her other side. Dan sat to his left with Ginny Mae on his lap and Polly beside him, flanked by Alisa and t.i.tus. Paul sat next to Delilah, with Logan beside him and Bryce at the end of the table. Delilah tried to ignore the fact that they were packed so close, she could feel Paul's warmth.

After everyone settled in, Delilah jumped a bit when Paul clasped her hand in his until she realized they had all joined hands for prayer. She only wished she could be a part of something so special.

For now, she'd just pretend that she wasn't someone they'd taken in out of charity. She listened as Gideon spoke of his appreciation for all of their blessings and asked G.o.d to be with them during the day to come. It seemed strange that they'd think G.o.d, who was so big and busy, would be right beside each of them all day long. Perhaps it just feels that way because they have each other to care about.

Paul's hand swallowed hers. It almost made her feel dainty and feminine sitting next to him with her hand coc.o.o.ned in his warm, work-roughened palm. She stifled a pang of regret when the prayer ended, and after a slight rea.s.suring squeeze, he let go. She sat as an outsider once again amid morning chatter as everyone pa.s.sed around platters of eggs and bread with the coffee.

I don't want to let go, Paul realized. He didn't even know why he'd sat next to her. Usually he took the place at the end of the table where Bryce sat today. Logan sent him a peeved look, but Paul watched Delilah hop like a frightened rabbit to be next to Miriam, and before he knew it, he squeezed beside her at the table. He'd felt her quick intake of breath when he'd first grasped her palm. Now he didn't want to let go of the warm, soft, slender hand nestled so sweetly in his.

She towered over Miriam on the other side of her, but the crown of her head came about equal to his nose. She reminded him of that old fairy tale Alisa told the girls. The one about the girl who walked into the bears' house and tested everything out. Delilah felt not too big, not too small, but just right. She smelled so feminine and delicate, but he didn't feel like he crushed her hand, either, which brought him back to the odd little war going on inside of him.

Paul knew the prayer would end any minute, but he just hadn't quite convinced himself to let go. Her dress-the color of marigolds-made her look like a ray of sunshine, and he wanted to enjoy her warmth a little longer. When everyone said, "Amen," he compromised and gave her hand a slight squeeze before withdrawing.

"Your breakfasts make it worth gettin' up, Miriam." Bryce's praise was well earned.

"Thank you, Bryce, but I think Delilah deserves most of the credit this morning. It's the first time she's ever cooked." Miriam's response had everyone peering at their new houseguest.

"You did a fine job, a mighty fine job." Logan shoveled eggs with gusto as everyone congratulated Delilah.

Even Polly chimed in. "Yeah. I haven't ate crunchy eggs since Auntie Miri-Em came."

Silence fell as the menfolk became intently interested in their coffee, and Delilah blushed. "I must've gotten some sh.e.l.l into the bowl. I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," Alisa a.s.sured her as she inspected Polly's plate. "A little bit never hurt anyone, I'm sure."

"What are you doing, Auntie Alisa? I like my crunchy eggs!" Polly s.n.a.t.c.hed back her plate. Paul couldn't help it; he started to chuckle. Soon everyone joined in, even Dan.

"Crunchy eggs!" Dan grinned at his little daughter. "Well, Princess Polly, if you like your crunchy eggs, you can go ahead and eat them. Won't do you any harm."

After the laughter stopped, Paul faced Delilah. Her cheeks flushed. "Maybe little Polly got a bit of sh.e.l.l in hers, but I've never tasted better eggs 'n' ham." He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed breakfast so much.

After breakfast, the men went out to their usual duties while the women cleaned up. It took Delilah half of eternity to scrub the skillet clean, but finally she finished.

"Delilah," Miriam offered, "since you arrived yesterday evening, you didn't have much of an opportunity to wash up after traveling. I'll bet your hands are pretty well soaked after that pan, but if you'd like, we can fill the tub so you can have a bath. After you're done, we'll dunk the girls."

"That would be wonderful, Miriam. I'll start pumping the water." While Miriam dandled Ginny Mae on her lap and worked with Polly on colors and numbers, Alisa and Delilah heated pots of water and hefted them to the old washtub they'd hauled in from the barn. When they'd set everything up, Delilah hurried to fetch her soap.

Once behind the screen, she got out of her clothing as quickly as possible and slid into the bath. She supposed the tub was barely big enough for the largest of the brothers to hunch into, but it gave her enough room to lean back as long as she bent her legs. Mindful that the little ones would be next, she picked up the soap instead of soaking. It wouldn't be fair to leave them with a cold bath after she luxuriated in the relaxing warmth. After she filled her hair with suds, she reached for the basin of fresh water next to her. When she'd scrubbed out all the dirt and achiness, she reluctantly climbed from the tub to help Miriam and Alisa with the girls.

When she came out from behind the part.i.tion, Miriam looked at her in surprise. "That was awfully fast."

"Usually we enjoy a soak for as long as we can. It's one of the comforts around here." Alisa spoke as she helped Polly undress.

"I enjoyed every minute," Delilah praised. "I just didn't want the water to be cold for the girls. I feel so much more like myself now that I'm clean again."

"Why don't you try to dry your hair and braid it while we take care of the children?"

Delilah gratefully took Miriam's advice and toweled her hair a bit more, only to realize she'd forgotten her brush. She excused herself and went out once more. The sun glowed cheerfully in the blue sky, so full of life she slowed her pace to enjoy the beauty of the day. Rather than braid her hair alone in the small cabin, she picked up her brush and trekked back to the kitchen. After living without the company of women for so long, she found herself eager to spend time with Miriam and Alisa. I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Paul shaded his eyes and scanned the sky. It could only be about ten o'clock, but for some reason, he hankered for lunchtime. At any rate, he needed to head back for some more tacks. The stretch of fence they'd been fixing needed more help than they'd thought, considering they'd worked on it a few weeks before.

He strode over to where Speck, his brown and white paint, calmly grazed. He swung into the saddle and trotted over to t.i.tus. "I'm heading back for some more tacks." At his brother's nod, he turned Speck toward the barn and cantered off. As the house came into sight, he spotted a flash of yellow as Delilah came out of the kitchen. He watched as she slowed her pace, enjoying the sun. Her head tilted back for a moment, and black waves tumbled over her shoulders. His throat went dry.

As she disappeared into the room he'd given up for her, he spurred Speck over to the barn before hitching the horse. I'm parched, he told himself as he headed toward the kitchen for a cup. Yep. Being so close, it made sense to go get a cool drink from the pump rather than slug some of the tepid water from his canteen. That was all there was to it. Who could blame him if he stayed a couple of moments to tickle the girls? Good uncles needed to spend time with their nieces, and since the women had arrived, he missed having a day a week with the girls. If Delilah happened to come back into the kitchen while he was there, it'd do no harm to see how she was getting along. He lengthened his stride toward the door.

"h.e.l.lo, Paul." Alisa didn't hide her surprise at seeing him. From the damp towel on the floor by his barefooted niece, he reckoned she'd hauled Ginny Mae from the tub and was just b.u.t.toning up the last b.u.t.ton. When she made as if to hand the toddler off to Miriam, he quickly intercepted.

Delilah glided into the room like a beam of sunlight carrying a brush. She stopped cold at the sight of him.

"Don't mind me. I came by for some tacks and thought I'd grab a drink before I got back out there." He ignored the knowing glance Miriam sent him and forgave her amus.e.m.e.nt when she jumped in.

"That's right, and he's lending a hand with Ginny Mae here for a moment until you're finished fixing your hair. Take a seat by the fire so your hair will dry a bit faster."

Delilah nodded and took a seat. Paul busied himself by drying Ginny Mae's hair, but he watched Delilah gently guide the brush, stroke after stroke, through her magnificent mane. When she started braiding, nimble fingers slipping through and weaving those black tresses, he became transfixed. The agility with which she performed the ritual showed it was a common one, but it seemed intimate since it was something usually done in private. By the time she'd finished putting her hair up, he wanted nothing more than to pull out the pins and run his fingers through it, testing its weight and silky texture.

She went out to the pump and filled a gla.s.s with water. As soon as she'd finished, she walked around the table. His breath caught as she stooped beside him and gently took Ginny Mae from his arms, giving him the cool water. She smelled wonderful- like fresh snow and violets.

As he walked back to the barn, he decided that lunchtime couldn't come soon enough.

Chapter 3.

After breakfast the next morning, Delilah followed Miriam into the barn with trepidation. She'd meant it when she said she wanted to learn everything about running the household, but somehow she'd never figured milking cows fit into it. She'd rather be in the vegetable garden with Alisa. Now she'd just have to make the best of it. I like milk, so that's something, at least.

The two creatures shared a large stall. Delilah watched as Miriam set a stool beside one of the beasts, then sat down and motioned for Delilah to come closer. Determinedly, Delilah strode over.

"Ready? First, take hold of one of Mister's teats, and-"

"Mister?" Delilah cut Miriam off. Even she knew this cow couldn't possibly be a male.

Miriam grinned. "Polly named them. This one's *Mister' and the other's *Sir.' Since she practiced her manners so well, the guys just didn't have the heart to tell her no."

It made perfect sense, so Delilah only giggled for a couple of minutes. Then they shifted their attention back to the lesson at hand.

"After you grab a pair, you tug and squeeze. Like this." A stream of white milk ran into the bucket. "Want to try?"

Not really. Delilah eyed Mister doubtfully but nodded anyway. Miriam got off the tiny stool so Delilah could perch on it. At least the cow wasn't moving. She hesitantly reached for the udder.

"That's it. Now tug downward and squeeze." Delilah did, and a squirt of milk splashed off the side of the bucket.

"Try to aim it into the bucket."

Well, why didn't she say so? Aiming posed no problem. Delilah compensated and caught the hang of milking in no time. While Delilah finished Mister, Miriam milked Sir, and before long, they completed the task.

"We'll make fresh b.u.t.ter today," Miriam decided as they carried their milk pails to the kitchen. They'd just set the buckets on the table when they heard voices outside.

They'd finished driving the herd to the next grazing pasture and were moving the bulls when a raven caught Paul's eye. Its wings shone the same smoky black as Delilah's hair. Unfortunately, an ornery bull chose that moment to break free and charge straight for him. After years of tending a ranch, Paul handled this sort of thing often enough, but for once it caught him off guard. He spurred Speck to zig when he should have zagged, and by the time he realized his mistake, he lay on the ground with a sharp pain throbbing up his arm.

Logan and Dan took charge of the bull, and Bryce reached Paul first, only to immediately check on how Speck fared.

"Anything other than a few b.u.mps and bruises?" Gideon's concerned tone brought little comfort as Paul nodded.

"My arm." He gritted his teeth and awaited the p.r.o.nouncement as Gideon prodded.

"Probably broken. We'll have to take you back to Miriam so she can have a look." Gideon hefted him up. It took both Bryce and Gideon to help get Paul into Splotch's saddle; then Gideon gave him a wary look. "You okay to ride?"

"Yeah."

"You lie just as lousy as you look." Gideon swung up behind him. Bryce followed with Speck as they rode back to the house.

After the men had gotten off the horse by the house, Miriam and Delilah dashed out to see what had happened. Paul left the explanations to Gideon.

"Speck lost him when they dodged an angry bull. I think he's broken his arm."