The Brides of Chance Collection (88 page)

“We’ll be happy to call you Miz Willow. It suits you. This is Bryce, since you didn’t get to meet him before we took care of the horses.”

“Nice to meet you, Miz Willow. Miz Thales.” Bryce took a swig of tea and raised his eyebrows. “Say, I’m more of a coffee man, but this is pretty good!”

“No arguments here. We’re much obliged for your hospitality.” Logan slathered his bread with jam and took a large bite.

“Yore welcome, Mr. Chance.” Miz Willow beamed and rocked more quickly, the runners giving tiny squeaks on the wooden floor. “Both of you Mr. Chances.”

“You can call us Logan and Bryce. Everyone in Reliable does, since there are six Chance brothers.” Logan grinned. “No one’d know who you meant back home if you called any of us ‘Mr. Chance.’ Plenty more for the next generation, too, so we just stick to first names.”

Hattie blew on her tea to avoid saying anything. These good-looking men came from a large family that was getting larger all the time. How different they would find it here, with just her and Miz Willow and no little ones to play with or cuddle.

Not that it would matter. The older youths of the holler would keep them plenty busy. Abner MacPherson and Rooster Linden would want to meet their kin. Silk Trevor’s boys, Ted and Fred, would take them hunting and trapping. Asa Pleasant was teaching his Albert the best spots for fishing, and his two girls, Sky and Lizzie, were of the right age to be courted. Not to mention the Cleary gals. Hattie had a sneaking suspicion that Logan, with his bright blue eyes and easy grin, would be much in demand. Both of the handsome brothers would be before they went back home to their nieces and nephews to start having babes of their own. If any of the folks of Salt Lick Holler had their way, the mothers of those babes would be their very own daughters.

When Miz Willow tried to hide a yawn, Logan knew they’d stayed and chatted long enough. He swiped one last piece of bread.

“Much as we’d like to stay right here at this comfortable table with you lovely ladies…” Logan glanced at Hattie when he said the words. Sweet wisps escaped the long braid down her back. They caught the red glow of the fire and framed her young face. She moved quickly and gracefully; those deep blue eyes seemed to catch every detail. He realized he’d paused too long and covered it with a yawn of his own. “It’s been a long time since we hit the hay.” He stood up and waited for Bryce to follow suit.

“Thanks for your warm welcome and delicious treats.” Bryce rose to his feet.

“Here’s a fresh lantern for you. There’s another in the loft. I left water in the bucket should you wish to fill the pitcher I left on the bench up there.” Hattie handed the light to him.

“Thanks. We’ll do just fine. Good night.”

He and Bryce made their way back to the barn and climbed the ladder to the loft. Surprised at its size, Logan held the lantern high to look around. Two pallets made of fresh hay beneath clean blankets looked homey and inviting. Several blankets piled on the end would ward away the nighttime chill. A sturdy bench held the lantern and pitcher Hattie spoke of, as well as a basin, two hand towels, and a tin cup. A large empty trunk sat in a corner where the sloping roof kissed the loft floor, and a few nails were stuck in the wall to serve as hooks. Everything was clean as a whistle.

Someone—no, not someone—Hattie had taken a lot of time to clean up this place and make it comfortable. It fit with the way she watered the horses and took care of the tea and such. Hattie Thales had a kind heart to match her pretty face.

“Nice digs.” Bryce lit the other lantern and hung up his hat. He grabbed the pitcher and started down the ladder to get the water Hattie had left for them. Logan caught the bundles Bryce slung up to him. They’d want fresh clothes in the morning.

Bryce came back up to the loft and plunked down the pitcher while Logan put their clean clothes in the trunk, along with his Bible.

Then they each sunk onto a makeshift bed, pulled off their boots, and gratefully stretched out under the comforting warmth of a heap of blankets. Logan shut his eyes and immediately started to doze.

“What’s going…You’ve got to be…Are you whistling?” Logan raised up on his elbows to peer at Bryce, who was giving a jaunty rendition of “She’ll Be Comin’ ’Round the Mountain.”

Bryce finished the tune before answering. “Not anymore.”

“Good,” Logan grumbled. “Now let’s get some shut-eye.”

“You go on ahead. I’m not a bit sleepy.”

“I’ll do that. Just don’t whistle anymore.” Logan settled back into the warm bed and breathed deeply, waiting to drift off again.

Thrum-dum-dum-bum-thrum
. The sound made Logan crack an eye open. It was too close for one of the animals to be fidgeting. “What are you doing now?”

“Hmmm…Oh, I guess I was tapping my fingers on the floor. Sorry.” Bryce didn’t sound at all repentant.

“Something on your mind?” Logan gave up trying to pretend Bryce wasn’t there.

“A lot. Pretty country, ain’t it?” Bryce, the most silent of all his brothers, sounded downright chatty.

“Yes, and I want to get a good night’s sleep so I can explore it tomorrow.” Logan yanked his blankets higher and tried to get some sleep. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner morning would come—and with it, new faces to meet and places to explore.

“Miz Willow’s a spry old gal. Did you see the twinkle in her eyes?”

“Yep.” Logan thought of the wispy snatches of white hair covering the widow’s head, like she was so full of energy her hair couldn’t lie flat. But now wasn’t the time to think about it. “Go to sleep, Bryce.”

“Can’t. Don’t know why.”

“Because you only woke up to stuff your face for the past five days.” Logan glared in his brother’s general direction. “If you can’t sleep now, it’s your own fault. As for me, I’m gonna ask you to be quiet so I can rest. There’ll be a lot to do and see tomorrow.”

“True. Maybe Hattie’ll show us around. What did you think of her?”

Logan realized Bryce’s yammering had managed to make him too alert to sleep. He sat up and ran his hand through his hair.

“Why? You’re usually the one who’s more interested in animals than people.” Logan was actually interested in Bryce’s opinion.

“Yep. But she’s kinda hard to read. She’s got a servant’s heart—I mean, look at how she fixed up this place for two strangers. She was awful nice about helping us in the middle of the night. I don’t think they have a pump. She had to draw all that water for the horses out of a well. Reminds me of Rebekah in the Bible, but she’s pretty quiet, too. I guess I’m used to hearing Miriam, Alisa, Delilah, Lovejoy, Temperance, Eunice, and Lois all gabbing to each other and directing the kids. Hattie’s pretty enough. Why isn’t she married?”

Logan thought it over for a while.

“She was, but he died, remember? And if she’s on the quiet side, maybe it’s because we met her in the middle of the night and we don’t know her yet.” Logan wondered what she’d be like in daylight. Would her hair still hang in a tidy braid past her waist? Would her voice still sound soft, husky, and musical?

Bryce rolled over. “She’s as pretty as Eunice and Lois, and as kind as Lovejoy. I’ll bet she’s about as good a healer, too.”

Logan thought that over. Was she smart like Tempy? He remembered the carefully slanted script and strange spelling of her letter and how she’d mentioned just learning to read and write.

“Well, I—” Logan broke off when he realized Bryce was snoring. He shook his head and lay back down. “Figures.”

Chapter 7

H
attie came awake when the cock crowed, and she got out of bed straightaway.

Would the Chance
brothers—Logan and Bryce
, she reminded herself—sleep late after their journey? She’d best make enough breakfast just in case.

After slipping on her dress and rebraiding her hair, she made bread dough and left it to rise under a blue and white gingham towel. She dashed out to the smokehouse and fetched a side of bacon. Logan and Bryce looked like they could pack away a lot.

She sizzled the bacon and left it in the small oven to keep warm, then shaped the loaf and put it in the niche of the hearth wall to bake. By that time, the early dim had given way to morning’s brightness, and Miz Willow had woken up.

“Why don’t you go on ahead and fetch some eggs and milk whilst I put on some coffee? My old mind seems to recall one of those brothers mentioning it yester-eve.”

Hattie picked up the small basket she used to gather eggs and took her time getting to the barn. She’d be as quiet as she could just in case the Chances were still asleep. Cautiously she opened the door and stepped over to the chicken coop, trying to shush the clucking birds as she searched for their brown eggs.

“Mornin’.” Logan’s head popped over the edge of the loft, startling her.

“Mornin’. I didn’t know if y’all was awake yet.” She focused her attention on shutting the coop before picking up the three-legged stool and milking pail.

“ ’Course we are. We’ll be down in just a minute, and I’ll take care of that for you,” Logan offered.

“No need.” Milking cows was woman’s work, but offering to help didn’t make him any less of a man. She finished and stood up, leaving the pail of fresh milk on the barn floor. “Y’all cain come into the house soon as yore ready. I’ve got breakfast started.”

“Sounds good!” She recognized Bryce’s voice before she left the barn.

She gave the eggs to Miz Willow, who immediately started scrambling them once she heard that the men were on the way. Hattie strolled out to the well, pulled up the bucket, and lifted a pail of chilled milk from where they kept it hanging down by the cool water. She drew a bucket of water for the house.

By the time she poured the milk into a pitcher and put it on the table with the bacon, Logan and Bryce were knocking on the door. Real gentlemen, they were, to knock rather than just saunter in. Even though they knew they were welcome, the gesture showed good manners. Logan set down the pail of fresh milk.

“Come have a seat,” Miz Willow invited, putting the eggs and coffee next to the plates and mugs.

Hattie sliced the cinnamon bread and put out some butter before joining them at the table. She sat next to Miz Willow, across from Logan.

“Would one of you gentlemen like to bless the meal?” Miz Willow invited.

“Certainly.” Logan surprised Hattie by reaching across the table to take hold of her hand so they all formed a circle.

She noticed his clean hands and face, shaved jaw, and combed hair. He honored their table by coming to it as though ready for a banquet. His brother looked just as neat. These men had more manners and common sense than most folk—and they probably suffered illness a lot less.

“Dear heavenly Father, we come before You this morning and thank You for all You’ve given us. We praise You for the safe journey and warm welcome we’ve experienced, and thank You for the hands that prepared this food. We pray for those who aren’t with us now and ask You to keep them close. Amen.”

Hattie smiled to thank him for his beautiful prayer. He’d blessed them as well as the food and remembered his family, too. If all the Chance brothers had been brought up as well as these—and Hattie figured they must have been—then Lovejoy was well taken care of as she deserved to be.

“Mmmm, this hits the spot.” Bryce jabbed a fork into his eggs as though to punctuate the comment.

“Delicious.” Logan agreed. “Thank you for getting up early to make all of this for us. Nice of you to go to the trouble.” He directed this last comment to Miz Willow.

“Much obliged.” Bryce reached for another slice of cinnamon bread, and Logan passed him the butter.

“Hattie do have a way ’round a fire,” Miz Willow praised. “Her cinnamon bread’s a favorite of ourn.”

“I can see why.” Logan took an appreciative bite and washed it down with some milk.

This man kept on surprising her. Most lads she knew wouldn’t bother to think of how she and the widow didn’t need to make so much food for just the two of them. Pa and Horace hadn’t seen any need to thank her for cooking or anything else. That was her place. Not that she minded doing it, but it was nice to be appreciated for her efforts.