The Brides of Chance Collection Part 89

"Oh," Daisy gasped and gathered him close. Praise the Lord he wasn't hurt. She'd heard that piercing shriek and thought the worst.

"Go." Jamie wriggled out of her grasp and flopped back in the leaves.

Daisy drew a deep breath and stood up. She turned around to find Bryce regarding her with those deep blue eyes of his. She smoothed back her hair and walked up to him.

"You gave me a fright, Bryce Chance," she said, admitting what he already must know.

"I'd never hurt Jamie," he responded in a low voice, so the little boy wouldn't hear.

"I know," Daisy apologized in those two words. "I heard him shrieking like that, and I was afeared...." Her voice trailed off as they both watched her son happily crunching leaves. "I've never heard him laugh like that."

Jamie smiled almost all the time, always ready with a giggle to lift her heart. But this spontaneous cry of joy, the adventurous yell of a little boy exploring the world, was new. For both of them.

She looked around. It was early in the season to have raked up so much foliage. Bryce had purposely gone all around the barn and house to make a pile big enough so Jamie would be safe. He'd thought up a way to give Jamie a new experience and make the little boy feel daring without danger. She'd never have thought of something like this.

"Thankee, Bryce." She remembered his apparent discomfort when thanked, only after the words were spoken. I hope I didn't embarra.s.s him again.

"You're welcome." Bryce grinned at her, his easy acknowledgment warming her heart.

"Ag'n?" Jamie's eager question caught their attention.

"I don't know." Daisy surveyed the flattened and scattered pile doubtfully.

"Hold on, buddy." Bryce hauled Jamie out of the pile and deposited him in Daisy's arms. He grabbed the rake he'd probably used in the first place and busily set about reconstructing the pile. He reached for Jamie, and Daisy willingly gave him up.

"Wait." Bryce sat Jamie down where he could lean up against the wall. "I think something's missing."

Too late, Daisy realized what Bryce intended as he headed her way. She let out a fl.u.s.tered "Eek!" as his strong hands closed around her waist. She didn't have time to enjoy the sensation before she went sailing through the air and crunching through the leaves.

"Bryce Chance!" she bl.u.s.tered, struggling to extricate herself.

"Yes?" He stood over her, holding Jamie.

"This was supposed to be for Jamie." She tried to scowl but couldn't manage it in the face of her baby's delighted smile.

"You're right." Bryce jumped in beside her, sending Jamie crashing though the leaves and into her arms.

She laughed so hard her sides hurt, and Jamie giggled right along. Finally, she was able to stand up and move Jamie to the edge of the pile. She needed to go check on dinner. She was about to tell Bryce as much when he started climbing out of the flattened mess, but then she changed her mind.

"Your turn." She planted her hands on Bryce's broad shoulders and shoved until he toppled back.

Jamie's laughter rent the air once more as he scooched over and pushed more leaves on top of Bryce. Daisy couldn't remember the last time they'd had so much fun.

"Whew," Bryce breathed as he leaned back and stretched. "I'm so full I couldn't eat another bite."

"I should hope not!" Daisy smiled to soften the words.

"Nothin' left even if yore stomach could hold it." Miz Willow looked at the empty dishes on the table.

The healer has a point, Daisy reflected. Bryce alone had packed away three biscuits slathered with b.u.t.ter, two bowls of stew, and almost half of her fresh-baked apple pie.

She watched as he gave his stomach a satisfied pat, only to have a wince crease his face.

"Too full, Bryce?" She knew he was startled by the look he gave her.

"Nah. Can't get enough of your fine cooking, ladies." Bryce held up his left hand. "Stubborn splinter." He ma.s.saged the area around the wound.

"Why didn't you say so?" Miz Willow straightened up and came back with tweezers and some witch hazel. She filled a bowl with warm water. "Put yore hand in that for a mite, and the wood'll swoll up so it cain be picked out. Daisy'll hafta do it." The old woman looked ruefully at her hands, so gnarled with years of work and late rheumatism.

Daisy cleared the table as Bryce obediently stuck his hand in the bowl. It didn't fit, so he stuck his palm into the water with his fingers rising up out of the bowl.

I hope I cain get it without hurtin' him, Daisy fretted. I should, after all the time I done spent doin' fine needlework.

The memory of his hands on her as he caught the mirror and later taught her to use sandpaper sent a shiver down her spine. Keeping steady while she felt the strength in his work-roughened palms would be far more difficult than embroidering lace.

After Miz Willow declared he'd soaked long enough, Daisy patted the area dry and looked at the splinter. The offending piece of wood, now plumped with water, made a dark, jagged path down Bryce's palm near his thumb. She slid her right hand beneath to hold it steady in the light before gingerly grabbing the edge of the wood with the tweezers. She held her breath as she tugged the splinter, having to work it to the sides a bit before it slid out. Blood filled the line made by the splinter as she cleansed the wound with witch hazel.

He didn't flinch or make a sound, even though it had been the biggest splinter Daisy had ever laid eyes on. Must've hurt somethin' awful.

He could hardly feel it. The second Daisy touched his hand, the pain lessened. When the trickle of blood stopped, Daisy released him.

"You're left-handed," Bryce spoke the realization aloud. She'd held his injured hand in her right and used the left to work the tweezers. How had he not noticed it before? Little wonder she'd had so much trouble with the saw-he'd had Daisy using her right hand.

"Yes. Always have been." Daisy gave the witch hazel back to Miz Willow.

"I never noticed before-I would've given you a different saw. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't think it was important." She visibly bristled. "I don't need any extry help."

This is the way she lives her whole life. Not speaking up when she needs help, not trusting anyone else to care for her or her son properly. Does she even realize how thoroughly she cuts herself off from other people? She goes to church and teaches her son Bible verses, but Daisy relies only on herself. Who am I to point out her flaws when I'm not staying around anyway? Lord, she's been hurt and survived a lot of loss, but she still needs to lean on You.

It took the better part of the next day to get the stove set up and functioning properly. Bryce could hardly make heads or tails of the blurry, smudged instructions, so he ended up learning by trial and error.

Finally, Bryce stood back and surveyed his work. They'd put it in the original hearth cavity, but not all the way. The range and oven poked out for easy use. All in all, it hardly took up any more room than the original hearth, and it would work a lot better.

"Nice," Daisy said appreciatively.

"I hope so." Bryce scowled at the troublesome machine. "Two days to fetch and haul it back, one to destroy the doorway and get it inside. Another to repair the damage, and one more to set the contraption up. Five days of work." Bryce shook his head. "I was beginning to think it wouldn't be ready before Logan and Hattie got back!"

Daisy burst out laughing. The hearty, happy sound made Bryce smile in and of itself, but...

"What's so funny?"

"Oh!" Daisy gasped and pointed to the stove. "I was jist thinkin' now might not be the best time to point out how we left two pie tins under the back legs."

"No!" Bryce hunkered down and peered at the floor of the hearth. Sure enough, two pie tins lay beneath the stove legs, halfway into the recess of the hearth.

"I already put together the stovepipe and connected it to the flue." Bryce hung his head in frustration. "I can't lift it now."

"Cain't lift what now?" Miz Willow stood in the cabin doorway.

"The stove, Miz Willow." Daisy gestured to the far wall. "We left two pie tins under the back feet."

"Hunh." Miz Willow squinted at her shelves for a minute. "Well, I had three, and Hattie brung a pair when she moved in, so I reckon we don't need 'em."

"Praise be." Bryce stood up and brushed stove black off his hands. "It's done then."

"Good thing, too." Miz Willow turned back outside to resume her lesson with Jamie. "Logan and Hattie'll be back tomorra."

Chapter 10.

Daisy didn't see Hattie or Logan until the next night. But when the newly married couple arrived, they were tired and decided to go straight to bed. Daisy and Bryce met them in the barn to help unload the wagon and settle in the horses.

"It's late, and we ate some jerky and biscuits on the ride here," Logan explained.

"It's good to be home." Hattie yawned, but despite being tuckered out, she glowed from the time spent with her new husband.

Daisy felt a surge of grat.i.tude toward Logan Chance for seeing beyond her sisterin-law's barrenness to the worth of the woman herself. He'd made Hattie happier than Daisy had seen her since before Horace Thales pa.s.sed on.

Now that Hattie's remarried, she's not a Thales anymore, Daisy realized. I wonder if that means we aren't sisters-in-law no more. Not that it matters. Hattie will always be kin in my heart.

"Daisy and I'll help you carry in your bags," Bryce offered, winking at Daisy.

Ignoring the flutter caused by that wink, Daisy nodded and gathered up the luggage and purchases the newlyweds had brought home.

When they got to the cabin, Bryce opened the door but hung back near Daisy to let the happy couple inside first. They wearily headed straight to their room, completely missing the fact that the new stove now dominated the hearth. Daisy and Bryce exchanged a shocked look. He held a finger up to his lips, and she nodded. It could wait.

The glow from the small fire Daisy had set in the hearth in the newlyweds' room bathed the finished place.

"Look, Logan!" Hattie turned around to take everything in, still holding a saddlebag clutched to her chest. "The quilt is on the bed, and they moved the carved trunk." She dropped the saddlebags onto Logan's desk and walked over to the washstand. "Daisy, you hung the curtains and our new towels! What's this?" Hattie traced the carving around the mirror. "It's beautiful!" She enveloped her friend in a warm hug.

"We thought it'd be a nice surprise." Daisy hugged her back.

"You put up the mantel." Logan ran his hands across it. "And hung the pegs." He turned to beam at Bryce and Daisy. "You two finished everything!"

"Not everything." Bryce shrugged off the praise, but Daisy could tell he was pleased with their reaction.

"We put things in order," Daisy agreed, "but it takes love to make a house a home."

"With Hattie by my side and good friends around us"-Logan put an arm around his wife and smiled at everyone-"I think we've got a good start."

The next morning, Hattie made her way into the cabin's main room to help prepare breakfast. After hugging Miz Willow and swooping down on Jamie for a quick kiss on the forehead, she turned to the hearth.

"Is that a..." Hattie couldn't find the words, her blue eyes wide as saucers as she approached the new stove.

Daisy watched in silence as Hattie looked it over from top to bottom, holding out her hands to capture the fire's warmth. She waited until Hattie opened the oven door and sent the smell of rising cinnamon rolls swirling through the cabin.

"The Chances had it shipped to Kentucky from clear across the country," Daisy explained. "Bryce fetched it and hauled it back here while you were gone."

"It's wonderful," Hattie breathed, her eyes shining. "It looks complicated, though. I hope it wasn't too much trouble."

Daisy couldn't hold back the laughter that welled up at Hattie's innocent statement.

"What's got you laughing so hard, Daisy?" Logan asked as he and Bryce came inside.

Daisy couldn't catch her breath enough to repeat Hattie's words.

"I don't know." Hattie shook her head in confusion. "I just told her I hoped they didn't have to go to too much trouble to bring in the new stove."

Daisy almost had the spurts of laughter under control when Bryce's deep chuckles made her lose her composure again. They were the only ones who knew just how funny it was.

"I don't get it." Logan shrugged and walked over to inspect the stove. "Hey, are those pie tins under there?"

Daisy and Bryce just shook their heads and laughed harder as Miz Willow took over.

"What of it? I cain't think of a better place for a pie tin than the hearth!"

"How was yore honeymoon, Hattie?" Daisy asked after the men had finished breakfast and gone off to do ch.o.r.es. She shifted Jamie to her other hip. He was getting big.

"Wonderful!" Hattie's one-word answer said it all. Logan treated her right, and she was happy with the life she'd chosen.

"Good." Daisy stopped as Hattie stooped to harvest some leaves for her medicine satchel. "Meet anyone interestin'?"

"Yes. Jack Tarhill is a real sharp businessman with a good eye for detail." Hattie stopped talking and looked Daisy in the eye. "He noticed the new lace collar on my green dress and asked where I'd purchased it."

"That's nice." Daisy enjoyed hearing that such an astute man would remark on the quality of her work.

"Daisy, I know you've been doing business with Mitch Flaggart for years, but Jack asked me to try and change yore mind." Hattie waited for a response.

"I've relied on Mitch since I was jist a girl and Mama traded her lace with him." The lessons on making lace were some of Daisy's fondest memories of her mother. She loved it when the two of them sat quietly, needles moving rhythmically as they created something beautiful.

"Yep. But he's getting on in years, Daisy." Hattie paused, and Daisy nodded to acknowledge it was harder for Mitch to make the trip to Hawk's Fall-and would be harder still to get to Salt Lick. "And the fact of the matter is, Jack reckons he cain get a fine price for yore work."

The figure Hattie quoted stopped Daisy in her tracks. So much money. I cain't cipher, but even I cain tell the difference is impressive. I hate to leave Mitch in the lurch, but I have to do what's best for Jamie and me.

"He knows I work collars and veils and table runners-not christening gowns or hoods?" Daisy had to make sure the market was right. Filet Lacis, while stunningly intricate, wasn't pliable enough to use for those things. Tatted lace worked well, but Daisy didn't know that method.

"I tole him as much," Hattie affirmed. "He says it's hard to find yore fancy handmade lace here in the States. Iff 'n yore agreeable, he won't have to pay such hefty trading taxes, so you'll both come off well."

"That's good." Daisy nodded as much to herself as to Hattie and absentmindedly stroked Jamie's hair.