The Brides of Chance Collection Part 74

"Nice place you got here," Logan praised. "Good land."

"Thankee." Ed beamed at him. "Hear tell you Chances don't do too bad yoreself." He cast a look around. "Say..."

"Bryce is at Miz Willow's, tending to her mule. I'll bring him up this way later in the week," Logan promised.

"Yore welcome anytime, anytime." Ed put his pipe between his teeth. "Me an' m' boys was just emptyin' our traps." He glanced proudly toward the rabbits.

"We'd be happy to show you an' yore brother around," Ted offered eagerly.

"I'd like that." Logan nodded. "Hattie tells me you know the best hunting and trapping spots in the hills."

"Sh.o.r.e do." Fred puffed out his chest. "Why don't you both come 'round early tomorra an' we'll go lookin' for deer?"

Hattie gave a slight shake of the head, hoping Logan would pick up on the signal. There were plenty more folks she needed to take Logan and Bryce to see afore they went off gallivantin'.

"Nice offer, but since we just got here, I think we still have a lot of people to meet." Logan leaned forward. "Can we take you up on it a bit later? We'll be here through summer."

"Like I said"-Ed blew a ring of smoke in the air-"anytime."

Logan rubbed the grit from his eyes and flexed his feet. After meeting the Trevors and Pleasants, they'd set off for home at dusk. Once they'd shared a hearty dinner, he and Bryce had groomed all the horses and given them a good rubdown. Now he and his brother sat in the loft, winding down but not ready to sleep.

"How's Blossom going to fare?" At dinner, Logan had heard Bryce a.s.sure the women that their mule was feeling better and would be even more improved the next day. But that only meant the animal wouldn't be in pain-not that she'd be able to work.

"Better. We'll see how it goes after the liniment, but she wasn't suffering from cramps." Bryce shook his head. "The old girl's coming up lame in that foreleg, if I'm not mistaken."

"You rarely are." Logan paused before giving voice to his next thought. "We intended to leave behind the packhorses. I can't think of anyone I'd rather give one to than Miz Willow and Hattie."

"Yep." Bryce settled the matter with one word. "Speaking of which, tell me more about the folks you met today."

"Good people, every one. They aren't well-to-do by any stretch of the imagination, but they're willing to share what they have." Logan leaned back and rested his head against his hands.

"I believe it. Sounds like you're describing Hattie and Miz Willow." Bryce lay back. "Fits in with Lovejoy's ways, too."

"Silk Trevor's a warm soul. She's the one who reared Eunice and Lois. Looks like them, only softer around the eyes with age."

"Sounds 'bout right, since she's their aunt." Bryce nodded.

"Her husband, Ed, is a straightforward man. Raises hound dogs. Takes care of his family best he can. Smokes a pipe." Logan remembered the perfect rings of smoke. "Their two sons are twins, Ted and Fred. Both are blond and freckled, and I can't tell 'em apart. Offered to take us hunting and trapping once we've met everybody in the holler. They're probably a year or two younger than I am."

"Good. I'd like to explore the land a bit, stretch my legs." Bryce rolled over onto his side. "It'd be good to bring back some game to replenish Miz Willow's smokehouse."

"Just what I was thinking," Logan agreed. "Their daughter Katherine married the oldest Pleasant boy. He might come along when we go hunting, might not. His wife's expectin' again. It's her third. Hattie went inside with her to check up on everything. She's doing just fine."

"If she's anything like Eunice and Lois, she'll barrel through it like a champ." Bryce grinned. "Reckon Lois might've delivered by now. When we left, she looked liable to pop at any minute."

"Could be. Lovejoy will write when it happens." Logan worked a crick in his neck. "Last stop today was the Pleasant place."

"Sounds nice," Bryce mused. "The Pleasant place. Could be a fancy hotel."

"Not by a long shot. It's a cabin smaller than Miz Willow's and not as well built. Asa and his wife, Mary, still have three children home. His son wants to take us fishing." Logan looked forward to the shade and clear mountain stream. Fresh fish was one of his favorites.

"I'm up for it. Will the other two kids come along?"

"Sky and Lizzie are young ladies, Bryce." Now came the time to tell Bryce about Hattie's warning. "Actually, there's something Hattie mentioned I need to pa.s.s on."

"Yeah?" Bryce sat up.

"Before we visited that family, she gave me notice that there's more than one family around here with unmarried young ladies."

"Well, that's to be expected," Bryce said with a snort.

"I guess. I just never thought about it," Logan admitted. "Truth is, Hattie said they don't get a lot of visitors up this way."

"Coulda told you that by the almost-empty train." Bryce lay back down. "That's what makes it an adventure."

"Still, she was saying they don't meet new men very often, especially well-established bachelors."

"Stands to reason."

Logan could tell the exact moment Bryce got it, because he shot up like his pallet was covered in fire ants.

"You mean they'll be makin' eyes at us?" Alarm and disbelief painted Bryce's question.

"Yep." Logan made use of Bryce's favorite answer.

"Did Hattie tell us what to do about it?" Bryce did his best to pace around the loft, without much luck.

"Just watch what we say so we don't put any ideas into their heads."

"Sounds to me like they had ideas before we even got here!" Bryce walked into the bench, banging his shin and sloshing water onto the floor. He sank back down onto his pallet and used one of the hand towels to mop up the spill.

"Take it easy. Hattie just thought we deserved advance notice. Don't spend time alone with any of 'em, is all." Logan blew out the lantern and pulled up the covers.

Bryce groaned. "Sounds to me like this is gonna be more of an adventure than we reckoned."

"I'll watch your back," Logan bargained. "You watch mine."

Chapter 10.

After serving up and polishing off a breakfast of flapjacks and sausage, Hattie began clearing the dishes.

"Bryce and I'll go muck out the barn and load up Legs." Logan handed her his plate.

"Sounds fine." Hattie added the plate to the pile as the men took their leave.

"Did he just call one of those packhorses Legs?" Miz Willow started wiping off the table.

"Yep." Hattie smiled. "His legs look too long for his body, and when he's loaded up, they say that's pert near all you cain see of him."

"Probably should've made him a racehorse," Miz Willow suggested.

"Too broad in the shoulders and flanks to summon enough speed. Bryce said it's kinder to give him work he cain accomplish and be valued for." Hattie went outside to wash the dirty dishes.

Lord, in a funny way I'm sorta like Legs-at first glance, it seems like I was meant to be a wife and mother, but the fact is I weren't made for it. Instead, You've given me a purpose and work I cain accomplish. I know I come up short, but in Yore arms I cain reach out to holp others. I thank You for that, Jesus. Let me not lose sight of the blessings You've given me.

She finished the dishes with a light heart, humming under her breath. Then she went inside to put them away.

"Is there anything I should be on the lookout for as we ride today, Miz Willow?" Sometimes the widow knew odd spots where valuable yarbs grew. Hattie hadn't managed to memorize them all just yet, but she was working on it.

"Not today, Hattie. I figgur you'll have yore hands full enough. Now I've packed some salted meat, biscuits, and apples in that thar saddlebag for dinner, though I've a notion you might be invited somewhere. Not good to rely on such things, though, so thar's plenty for all three of you." Miz Willow kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be seein' you afore supper, I reckon."

"Depends. We're going to visit Rooster, and I'll have a look-in on Abigail Rucker, since her husband's on a trip to Hawk's Fall this week." Hattie paused. "But we pa.s.s the Cleary place, so if they git a-holt of us, it'll take forever."

"I suppose. Jist do yore best to be gone in a trice." Miz Willow grimaced. "Iff 'n that don't warsh, jist don' let Bethilda corner 'em."

"I cain't make any promises."

Logan finished mucking out the last stall, then walked over to find Bryce hunched over, rubbing Dr. J. H. McLean's Volcanic Liniment on Blossom's ailing leg.

"How's she comin' along this morning?"

"Hard to say." Bryce frowned in concentration. "She doesn't shy away when I touch her, but she still stays off it."

"Any chance of improvement?" Logan pressed.

"A little. She'll probably be able to use the leg a bit, but she'll favor it a good long while. If it's a bone split, she won't ever carry weight again." Bryce stood up and rubbed his hands on a rag. "Fact is, she's old, Logan. Too old to work."

"You've done what you can. We'll see to it that Hattie and Miz Willow are provided for." Logan lifted a saddle off the stand. "C'mon and help me saddle the horses- Hattie's taken a liking to Legs, so we'll load up the other one."

"She can ride Blaze again."

Something about Bryce's too-casual air made Logan turn around. "You'll have need of Blaze today," Logan stated matter-of-factly.

"I was thinking..." Bryce edged back toward Blossom's stall, and Logan knew what was coming.

"Oh, no you don't." He pinned his brother with his best glare. "No way you're hiding out in this barn and leaving me to meet everybody on my own."

"If there's a need, it'll be accepted." Bryce looked at something beyond Logan's shoulder rather than meet his brother's gaze.

"There's not. Yesterday you were needed. Today Blossom won't need liniment again until this evening. You're coming." He punctuated the order by hefting Bryce's saddle at him. "No brother of mine's gonna turn tail over meeting a few gals. Get going."

"Fine." Bryce straightened his shoulders. "I'll go. But I ain't talking to a one of 'em."

"Deal." From what Logan had seen, he wouldn't have to. Folks 'round Salt Lick Holler were anything but shy. They saddled all the animals and were finishing loading the packhorse when Hattie showed up.

"Are y'all ready?"

"You bet. We've loaded up everything for Abner, Rooster, Goody, and Nessie." Logan gestured to the packhorse.

"Blossom's leg is covered with some liniment, so we saddled up Legs for you." Bryce led the horse around. Hattie rested her medicine satchel on the pommel and swung up.

"Thankee." She stroked Legs's mane and crooned at him for a minute. "We get along just fine."

Logan rode alongside her while Bryce led the packhorse and brought up the rear. They went the opposite direction from the path they'd taken yesterday. The road wound uphill. The higher they climbed, the more trees crowded along the path, so full of birds it seemed as though the plants themselves sang to them.

"We'll be pa.s.sin' the Cleary place. I reckon it's jist early enough not to bother them." Hattie's tone took on an unfamiliar flat note. "We'll probably be seein' 'em on the way back."

Logan turned around to make sure Bryce had heard the message; Bryce nodded. They saw a ramshackle old cabin, the wood bleached white by sun and rain, sitting in a clearing peeking through the trees. He figured that must be the Cleary place and noticed how Hattie picked up the pace as they pa.s.sed it.

They reached the stream he remembered crossing the afternoon before and figured it must wind through the hills. Since there was no bridge, Hattie led them to a shallow embankment, and they crossed through the water. Legs carried Hattie across, and Logan and Bryce made it through with damp boots as they coaxed the packhorse across.

"It's jist past this turn," Hattie told them as they let the horses have a drink. "Don't quite know how to say this..."

"It's all right." Bryce grimaced. "Logan already told me how it is."

Logan watched Hattie's cheeks turn bright pink. It must be something different.

"What is it, Hattie?" Something about Lovejoy's dad tickled the back of his mind.

"I don't know if Lovejoy told you." She hesitated, and her voice dropped. "Mr. Linden owns a still."

"Yeah." Bryce nodded. "I remember Lovejoy sayin' her pa made moonshine."

"Well, Rooster says he takes pride in his work, so he keeps a close eye on the..." She searched for words. "The quality of his product."

"Samples his own wares, eh?" Logan said.

Hattie nodded sadly. "Folks call him Rooster. Used to be he'd jist git jolly, but of late, he's taken a different turn." She jutted her chin toward the curve in the road. "I'm not sh.o.r.e what mood he'll be in."

Logan could feel his own frown. What Hattie was trying so hard to state delicately was that the man had become a mean drunk, and she'd been around him enough to know it wasn't an occasional occurrence.

"Is *Rooster' his real name, or do folks just call him that because he gets roostered?" Bryce's voice made him pay attention again.

"You know, we've all called him Rooster for so long I cain't remember iff 'n he has a proper name." Hattie shrugged. "Since Nessie's fella up and ran off, she's done her best to take care of her pa. Goody pitches in now and then, too."

Nessie and Goody were, if Logan remembered right, short for Gentleness and Goodness. Ma Linden had named her girls for the fruit of the Spirit in an effort to raise them well in spite of her husband's dubious occupation. Lovejoy was firstborn, Peace had died young, and Kindness was stillborn. Temperance was Micah MacPherson's Tempy, and these were the other two of the sisters. Lovejoy must not have known about Nessie's husband running off, or she would have mentioned it. She wasn't the type of woman who'd leave one of her sisters alone to fend for herself with an angry drunk for a father.

"I see." Logan met Hattie's gaze to let her know he fully understood the problem.

"Sorry to hear that." Bryce shook his head. "Glad to know in advance, though."