West Winds of Wyoming (20 page)

A
lthough Sunday was a day of rest and contemplation, Nell knew she couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. The house had to be cleaned. Today. Seth had ridden off with Dog over to the Broken Horn. He mentioned he wanted to talk with Chase Logan about the cattle drive this spring, but that was so far away she believed he just needed a change of scenery. Some men to talk to and play a game of cards with. Charlie was doing who-knew-what in Logan Meadows, and the thought made her grit her teeth for one foolish instant. A jab of longing pierced her heart.

She eased up. Charlie had no obligation to hang around here on his time off. He was a hired hand, nothing more. He was free to come and go.

The absence of both men presented the perfect opportunity for her to give the ranch house a thorough spring cleaning, even if it was mid-September. She smiled at herself. Who was she kidding? If Charlie hadn’t shown up, she’d put the all-day chore off until next year.

Glancing around, she admitted to herself she’d let the house go. The poor thing was in a disgusting state of affairs. After Ben died, her desire to do anything except care for her animals just seemed to shrivel up and blow away. From caring for the household to the cooking of meals, she’d been passing off her second best for far too long. Seth, kind brother that he was, hadn’t complained a bit. But that wasn’t fair to him, or to Charlie now, either. When a ranch hand hired on, room and board were always included. Good food could be the biggest factor in keeping decent help or losing him quick. A clean house and a satisfying meal were things that could easily be remedied today.

Energized at the thought of Seth’s and Charlie’s reactions, Nell picked up the closest chair at the table and carried it out to the front porch. She followed that with the remaining three. Next, she muscled the beat-up pine sideboard out, which was difficult because of its bulkiness, not its weight. Then the butter churn she hadn’t used in a year. The fallen hat rack that leaned in the corner. A milking stool that she set her rinse bucket on. The growing mound of old boots by the door. Piles of old newspapers here and there. A handful of coats that she took up to the bedrooms. Odds and ends.

Soon all that remained was the kitchen table. The piece was too large for her to get through the door alone, but she could easily work around it. Swiping the perspiration from her forehead, and before she lost her enthusiasm, she headed into the living room. Most of the furniture was too large for her to remove. One thing she was able to manage on her own was Seth’s upholstered footstool. The lumpy footrest went directly into the yard. She glanced up at the clear sky and stretched her back muscles, liking the way they softly ached.

The interior of the room grew hot. Nell pushed the four large windows open, appreciating the breeze that flowed through. She took down the drapes, intending to give them a good shake. After that, she carefully removed the breakables, like the oil lamps, a mantel clock, and one fragile flower vase that had come with the house. Everything that could be moved needed to go. She’d dust each outside, removing the months of dirt that had accumulated.

Soon items spilled off the porch and into the yard, looking much like the sale Maude had at her mercantile every fall. Beads of sweat gathered on Nell’s temples.

The rug was going to be a problem, but she was determined to get the worn floor covering outside where she could beat it clean. Hefting the sofa off one side, and then the chair from the opposite corner, she knelt and began rolling the gray-and-maroon prize. It was the most expensive item that had come with the house and certainly something she’d never have been able to afford if Mr. Clarkston Jones hadn’t sold them the place right before he died, furnishings and all.

Finished, she detoured to the kitchen for a cool drink of water.
Charlie is going to get the shock of his life when he gets back. And Seth. Heck, he’ll think he’s in the wrong house.

She laughed and water ran down her chin. She felt good. She couldn’t remember being this happy in a very long time. Since she was alone, Nell unbuttoned her shirt until the garment gapped open, cooling her heated skin. She took the bandanna from her rear pocket and tied back her hair. After returning to the living room, she eyed the rolled carpet as if the thing were a rival. She’d need every ounce of her strength to get the bulky item outside, but by thunder, she’d do it. This wasn’t the first time she’d tackled a man-sized job.

Bending, she took hold and wrestled the closest end around, swinging it toward the door. She rubbed her moist palms down the legs of her pants, then took hold again and heaved backward until the carpet moved a few inches. She heaved again, leveraging her weight back on her haunches, straining and groaning while the muscles in her back tensed. Several more steps and she’d be to the door. Her breath rasped in her throat as she sucked in air.

It’ll be worth it. If for nothing else, to see their expressions.

Gripping the carpet again, Nell heaved back across the threshold to the porch. With a final pull, the end popped over the divide, catching for a moment and making her hands slip. She gasped as her fingernail bent back painfully. Tears sprang to her eyes. She angrily shook her hand several times before sticking her throbbing appendage into her mouth. Hot tears spilled from her eyes.

Irritated, Nell marched out into the yard and plopped down onto Seth’s footstool. Her finger pulsed. She examined the damaged nail carefully for a moment, then stuck it back in her mouth. It wasn’t fair. Although she was strong, the men were so much stronger. Moving the furniture and rug would be nothing to them.

Frustration turned to anger. Who was she fooling? Seth and Charlie might not even notice the effort. Didn’t seem like they noticed the disarray, at least they didn’t say much about it. Maybe this was all for naught.

Closing her eyes, she sucked in a calming breath and tried to ignore the pulsation. This confusion was all because of Charlie and how he made her feel alive.
Your feelings are all one-sided
, her better sense cautioned. He’d never given her one iota of encouragement or reason to believe he felt the same.

But I want to love again
, her heart argued back.
If I don’t let him know how I feel, I may miss my chance.

If nothing else, she’d get the place cleaned up for herself. Get her house in order. That was enough reason. She didn’t have to do it for Seth or Charlie. It was time she came back to living her days as she should. She’d best remember she wasn’t the only person in the world who had suffered a loss, or was confused over her feelings.

Charlie had lost a wife. That’s what Seth had told her. She’d wanted to ask Charlie about her, but held back. Had they been young and in love, like she and Ben had been? Where had they lived? Did they own a ranch . . .

Nell gave herself a mental shake. She needed to mind her own business and get back to the business of cleaning up her life. She’d start with the house, and after that was finished, she’d concentrate on her feelings. No more thinking about the past. No more grieving over the way things had turned out. No more wishing Ben hadn’t died. No more hankering for the baby they never had.

The future was here and now—and staring her in the face. She’d not waste it, or she might regret that on top of everything else.

Resolved, Nell opened her eyes. The metal blades of the windmill twirled slowly above her head, the sight familiar and comfortable. Her gaze moved to the horizon as it usually did, then toward the horse pasture up on the hill.

She froze. Looked again, making sure she wasn’t mistaken.

A lone rider sat on the ridge, watching her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

H
urry up, children. Line up. Let me check you over. I don’t want you to be late and interrupt Reverend Wilbrand while he’s giving his sermon. That’s not polite.” Brenna eyed each child, making sure they were dressed correctly for the church service. She sent up a little prayer of thanksgiving when her gaze drifted over the tiny pock on the side of Maddie’s nose. Just as Charlie had suggested, the child was able to point out proof of her immunity, putting Brenna’s heart at ease. Mr. Hutton, or her nursing him, would not present a problem to her household.

As Stevie tried to hurry past, Brenna stopped him by grasping his arm. His shirt was rumpled, clearly not the one she’d washed and pressed and hung on his peg two days ago. “Where is your Sunday best, Stevie?”

He scuffed his shoe. “Err . . . I thought this one was fine, Ma. I don’t want to change.”

Brenna opened his top button to find his sleep shirt underneath, tucked into his pants. Alarmed, she peered behind one ear, then the other. “What’s this? You haven’t taken any time whatsoever for church? I’m shocked, son. Now, go wash—and hurry. Then dress in the shirt I intended you to wear, but only after you don a clean undershirt.”

With a sullen slant to his mouth, Stevie pulled his shoulder from her grasp and hurried toward the kitchen and the two rooms beyond.

“He’s becoming a handful,” Penny said. “He won’t listen and he even talks back to me when I ask him to do what you’ve instructed.”

“Is that so? Well, we’ll just see about that. The next time he disobeys you, Penny, you let me know.” Feeling the need to get the willow bark over to Mr. Hutton, Brenna eyeballed the rest of her clan, making a note to herself to address this situation with Stephen later.

Stevie rushed back into the room and skidded to a halt, almost upsetting the oil lamp on the side table. Clean shirt, face washed, and hair slicked back.

“Thank you. That looks better. Now, like I mentioned, I’m staying home to take care of Mr. Hutton. Everyone best remember that Penny is in charge. You are to mind her no matter what she says.” Brenna frowned at Stevie. “Stephen, if I hear of any shenanigans in church or after, you will bear the consequences.”

Everyone nodded.

What those consequences were, Brenna didn’t know yet. Her children had always been so good and respectful. She hadn’t had to deal with a troublemaker and wondered how she would. She didn’t believe in the rod, having suffered through many an unfounded whipping when she was a girl. The anger she’d felt afterward was certainly not what the Lord expected her to feel for her father. And certainly not what she wanted Stevie to feel for her. She’d not put her children in a similar situation that caused guilt and hurt. “Is that clear, everyone?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Prichard and Jane said in unison.

“Stevie?”

He nodded.

Prichard was the height of prompt obedience, as was Jane. One could almost forget Maddie was even about, the girl was so quiet. And Penny was Penny, her right arm. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. It’s time to leave.”

Jane reached over and took Maddie by the hand, and the children filed out the door and down the porch steps.

“Careful, Maddie, here we go down,” Brenna caught Jane say as they descended the stairs. Her heart swelled. They were good children, sweet and kind. Stevie’s actions weren’t normal for him. She watched him go, his brown hair reflecting the sunshine. School would be starting, with or without Mr. Hutton. The ranching families depended on the schedule. She would need to find a willing adult to fill in for the teacher in his absence. Someone who wouldn’t let the children ruffle their feathers. Who that was at this point was a mystery and she didn’t have time to ponder. She had a sick teacher waiting on her return.

Brenna tapped lightly on Mr. Hutton’s door. What if he was asleep? Should she just go in quietly and see? With the spots just appearing at dawn, he was going through the worst of his illness and needed his rest.

Brenna opened the door and crossed silently to the kitchen. She filled the kettle she’d brought with her and set the steamer on the already lit stove. Dr. Thorn had started the fire for her before he’d left but after he affirmed her diagnosis. Mr. Hutton suffered from a case of ordinary measles. He should start to feel better in a week and be able to return to teaching a week and a half after that.

Brenna made another trip to her house for the pot of chicken soup, then hurried back and placed the container on the stove to heat. Walking on tiptoe to avoid tapping her heels on the wooden floorboards, she approached his bedroom.