Lazy Days (26 page)

Abigail nodded because she didn't know what else
to do.

"Mina's right, lookey there." Sadie
pointed.

Abigail glanced back at the Pitts to see Brant
and Luke had left the corral and Brant was lifting Lola down from the wagon.
When he set her on the ground, she stepped close to him and reached to touch
his shoulder.

"See what I mean, Abigail," said Mina.
"Maybe you should mosey on over there and lay claim to your man."

"Ah, ah…I-I…"

Kathryn said, "Mina, stop embarrassing the
girl. She's an easterner and they don't do things the same out there."

"Oh piddle, a man's a man and a woman's a
woman and a floozy's a floozy, no matter how you spell it out."

Abigail was saved further embarrassment when Ty
took off running. "Excuse me, ladies. It was nice chatting with you."

Ty ran to the tables of food with billowing
tablecloths. Giggling, he gave her a mischievous smile and crawled under the
table, hiding behind the tablecloth. Abigail laughed at his impishness and went
down on her hands and knees, peering underneath. He burst into peals of
laughter when he saw her and started crawling away.

"Oh, no, you don't." Abigail grabbed
his foot and tugged him toward her, which only made them both laugh all the
more. Finally, she dragged him from under the table. Beside her, boots came
into her line of sight. Looking up, she saw Brant's eyes dancing with
merriment. He squatted beside her and Ty.

"Having a little trouble, Miz Vaughn?"
he reached for Ty and lifted him onto his shoulders. The boy squealed with
delight.

"I think I handled things fairly well,
Mister Samson," she laughed, still on her knees.

Brant stood and stretched his arm to help her
up. She grabbed his calloused palm and let him pull her to her feet, close to
his body. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw Lola sending her a venomous
stare, and Luke a hurt one. Stepping away from him, she smoothed her dress.
"I think I'll go check on Jenny."

* * *

Brant watched Abby walk toward the group of
children Jenny was playing with. The woman was as skittish as a colt. He smiled
thinking about the sight of Abby on her knees chasing Ty. Unlike some women who
would have chastised the baby, she'd laughed and played his game. Brant liked
that. Yep, the more he was around Abby, the more he was beginning to think she
would make a great ma for his children. If only he could get Luke to realize
the same thing.

* * *

Abigail met more neighbors throughout the day
and found that most treated her very well. Several came right out and asked personal
questions which she danced around or suddenly found a diversion to excuse
herself. After lunch, the men resumed raising the barn and the youngest
children were put down for naps on blankets under trees. The older children
were made to play quiet games.

Abigail sat on a blanket under the oaks with Ty
asleep beside her. She leaned her head against the gnarled trunk. Around her,
other women sat on blankets and she listened to gossip, upcoming church
activities, and the best way to calm a colicky baby. She closed her eyes and
envisioned what her life would be like in Philadelphia if she were still there.
No doubt, she'd be creating school lessons, reading a novel or shuffling from
room to room in her home. Viewing her circumstances with honesty, she asked
herself if she would rather be there or here. The answer was obvious. She
wanted to be here amidst these country folk and enjoying the sunshine, playing
with children, and watching Brant wield a hammer. Lazily, she opened her eyes
and searched him out. He was nailing boards on top of the barn. He'd rolled his
sleeves up and unbuttoned his shirt to his navel. When he leaned back on his
knees and removed his hat, swiping his face and neck with his bandana, she was
again struck by his comeliness and felt desire unfurl in her stomach.
I want
to marry him.

When she considered her desire for this man, she
knew his looks enticed her, but more than that, his kindness and love for his
children drew her in. He seemed to feel her eyes watching him and turned his
head in her direction. His gaze, even from a distance, made her heart flutter.
Next to her, one of the young mothers said quietly, "Sure wish my man
looked at me like that."

* * *

Brant washed up at the well. Enough of the barn
was raised so that MacGregor could finish the details on his own. The cool
water felt refreshing. Walking to his horse, he changed into the extra shirt
he'd brought, and then returned to the house. Women bustled around the tables
setting out supper and his stomach growled loudly. Around dusk, the musicians
would fire up their fiddles and the hoedown would begin. Since Molly's death,
he hadn't been sociable, and now he realized just how much he'd missed
gatherings like this.

He went in search of Abby. She had Ty on one hip
and was handing him a slice of bread with the other. She smiled at his baby and
Brant got to see her beautiful teeth. He couldn't believe how much a smiled
changed her face from plain to pretty. She looked up, still smiling, and his
heart somersaulted.

"That food looks mighty good," he
said, just to have something to say.

"You must be starving after working so
hard." Abby licked bread crumbs from her fingers.

Brant had a sudden vision of lifting her fingers
to his lips and licking the crumbs away himself. He looked quickly across the
yard. "Guess I'll go find Jenny and Luke and see what they're up to."

Glancing around he spotted Jenny sitting with
her girlfriends, each one trying to out talk the other. He didn't see Luke
anywhere. Walking to the corral, he rounded a shed and found him reclined
against the slats, staring into space, an open novel on his lap. His heart
softened for the boy who was the spitting image of himself, and instead of
berating him for being antisocial asked, "Is that a good book?"

Startled, Luke turned and then composed his
features into bland indifference. "Yeah, it's pretty good."

Brant had a sudden inspiration. "Have you
ever considered writing stories yourself?"

Luke gave him an incredulous look. "What?
Me write a book?"

"Sure, why not? Since you love reading so
much, why not write your own adventure tales?"

For once, Luke didn't seem to have a retort.

Brant started to turn around, but stopped.
"You know, Miz Abby bein' a teacher and all, she could help if you got
stuck on words."

A closed expression came over Luke's face.
"I don't want nothin' from her, and I sure don't want her to be my ma. My
ma's dead."

Brant sighed. "That's right, son. How many
times do we have to have this discussion? Your ma's dead, but you're not.
You've got your whole life ahead of you and your ma would want you to be happy.
She'd also want your brother and sister taken care of."

"Would she want you sleepin' with another
woman?"

Brant narrowed his eyes. "I can't believe
you just said that."

"Well, would she?"

"She'd want me happy, Luke. And if that's
what it involves, the answer is, yes." Brant walked away from his son.

At dusk, kerosene lanterns were lit in the new
barn and everyone crowded inside intent on having a good time. The fiddlers
tuned up and the hard working ranchers pulled out jugs of liquor while young
bucks eyed young ladies and visa versa. Babies and small children were
relegated to a corner and made to lie on blankets while mothers hovered nearby.

One of the fiddlers called out the name of a
tune and tapped the body of his instrument with his bow, setting the timing.
The other fiddlers joined in and lively notes filled the barn. Young couples
rushed to the middle of the floor and started showing off their moves. Older
couples and children danced on the fringes.

Brant watched Jenny dancing with Tommy, a boy
her age, and laughed when he stepped on her toes and she yelled,
"Ouch!"

Near the entrance to the barn he saw Luke
leaning against the frame and watching the festivities. Marylou, one of Cora's
girls, approached his son and said something. Luke shrugged and actually smiled
at the girl. When he sat on a bale of hay and motioned for her to join him,
Brant heaved a sigh of relief and then moved his gaze to the far corner with
women and small children. Abby sat in a chair holding a sleeping Ty in her
arms. Walking over, he said, "Let me lay him down so you can dance."

"Oh, goodness, no. I haven't danced in
years. Besides, I don't know these steps."

He lifted his baby from her lap and laid him on
a nearby blanket. "Will you watch him, Peggy Lynn?" he asked a young
mother.

"I shore will," she gave him a
conspiratorial wink.

Brant placed a hand under Abby's elbow.
"Come on, Miz Abby so I can teach you these dance steps."

"I really have two left feet."

"Well, I have two right feet. So I guess
that balances things out." He urged her from her chair and escorted her to
the dance floor. Pulling her into his arms, he counted steps aloud and
patiently showed her the moves. She was right about having two left feet, but
it didn't matter. Before long he was twirling her around the room. The music
picked up and her face flushed a lovely pink from her exertion. She laughed,
flashing her beautiful smile, and Brant had a sudden desire to explore the
mouth behind that smile.

The song ended and a slow one took its place.
Abby started to walk off the dance floor, but he pulled her back. "Not
yet, Abby." Holding her in a chaste manner, he guided her into the steps
of a love ballad that toothless Charlie sang to perfection. Before the ballad
was over, he'd pulled her closer and lowered his head to smell the freshness of
her hair. The song ended and he didn't move away immediately. Abby broke their
stance and said breathlessly, "I need to check on Ty."

Brant chuckled and watched her skirt away. My,
but she was skittish. That fact, however, didn't bother him. He kind of liked
the challenge of getting her used to him.

"Can I have this dance, Brant?" Lola
interrupted his musings.

Because refusing would be downright rude, he
said, "Of course, Lola," and reached for her hand. She snuggled close
to him and made him wish he'd been rude.

Standing on tiptoe, she lifted her lips to his
ear and whispered. "Brant, you really don't want to marry her, do you? At
least Molly was beautiful. This woman is plain. How exciting can she be to a
man of your…vigor? Don't you remember how it was when you kissed me? I have so
much to offer you."

Brant wanted to groan. The woman was disgusting.
"We've already been through this, Lola."

A pleading edge entered her tone. "Brant,
I'll do anything you ask of me. I love you. I always have. I'd even go down on
my knees and beg if I thought that would help. Just give me a chance."

Brant stopped dancing. "Lola, no. I'm not
the man for you and you're not the woman for me. I'm not going to say it
again." He felt her stiffen. So as not to embarrass her, he continued
dancing, but when the song ended, he nodded politely and walked away.

* * *

The ride home by the full light of the moon was
eerily beautiful. The older children slept in the back of the buckboard while
Abigail held Ty in her arms. Softly, she said to Brant, "This has been a
good day."

"Yes, it has. It's been a long time since I
socialized with my neighbors. It felt good."

For the rest of the ride, they discussed the
events of the day and laughed over funny happenings. Back at the ranch, while
Brant and Luke unharnessed and bedded the horses, Abigail got Ty and Jenny to
bed. As she tucked the covers around Jenny, the sleepy girl said, "I love
you."

Abigail didn't know if she'd said it in her
sleep or with awareness. No matter, it touched her mother's heart and brought
tears to her eyes. "I love you, too, sweet girl." She bent and kissed
Jenny's cheek and then the sleeping baby's.

Brant and Luke hadn't returned to the cabin and
she was too exhausted to wait for them. Going to her room, she prepared for bed
and crawled in. She was so tired the lumpy mattress didn't bother her. A knock
on her door startled her awake. Was something wrong? She jumped up and opened
the door wide, not even covering her nightgown. Brant stood in her doorway
looking nervous. "Is everything okay?" she asked worriedly.

"I need to talk to you. Can you come
outside for a minute?"

"Of course. I'll be right out."
Abigail's heart pounded. What could be wrong? She tossed a cape over her
nightgown and walked onto the front porch. Brant stood leaning against one of
the posts. He didn't turn around and she walked to stand beside him. The light
of the moon shone strong and enhanced the masculine planes of his face.

"What's wrong, Brant? Is Luke okay?"

"Luke's fine."

While she waited for him to speak, she listened
to owls hoot and coyotes howl, feeling more nervous with each passing second.
Was he going to ask her to leave; tell her she wasn't right for him or the
children?