Page 6 of Leftover Mail-Order Bride (Frontier Brides #2)

M rs. Dalrymple bustled into the parlor the next morning as Victoria was playing the piano. “We should work in the kitchen today, dear,” she said. “We want to make sure your cooking skills shine.”

Victoria stilled her hands. “My cooking skills?”

The minister’s wife snapped a nod. “Cooking, cleaning, washing, darning and mending, churning, all the wifely arts a rancher might expect from his bride. Except canning and preserving food. We don’t have much of a harvest yet. But I intend to school you myself in the other areas.”

She looked so very pleased that Victoria could hardly argue. And she was glad to be of assistance around the house. After all, the Dalrymples were giving her room and board. If she ended up finding a position as a cook or a laundress, at least she’d have some skills. But she couldn’t help thinking that the quality of her character ought to be more important than the work of her hands.

“Besides,” Mrs. Dalrymple said as Victoria rose from the piano bench, “we have a better view of the church site from the kitchen window, so we can spot Mr. Willets when he arrives.”

Sure enough, Jack, Jeremy, Caroline, and Joy drove up in a wagon as Mrs. Dalrymple was critiquing Victoria’s ability to wash dishes (who knew glasses might spot if not dried with the proper towel?). The minister’s wife hurried to set the clean glasses and a pitcher of water on her silver tray. “Take these out. Ask him questions. Men like that.”

Jack hadn’t seemed to appreciate idle conversation while he was working when she’d gone out yesterday. But she was curious about what he and his brother were doing unfurling that long line of twine, and she just wanted to spend time with him, so she carried the tray out once more.

The prairie seemed to know it was May Day. Wildflowers were beginning to pop up, rich reds, brilliant blues, and gorgeous golds. With a sharp cry, a gull wheeled overhead under a pale sky dotted with fluffy white clouds.

Caroline, gingham skirts pooling below her gray wool coat, was crouched at the side of the cleared space, now clutching one end of the twine, while Jack held the other end across from her. Jeremy took out a triangular wood frame with a lead-weighted string hanging from the top point and positioned the bottom of the triangle along the string.

“Level,” he proclaimed, lifting the triangle. “Next.”

Caroline advanced a few feet to the right. So did Jack.

“That’s a plumb bob,” Joy explained, skipping over to join Victoria. “They’re making sure the ground is level so no one will slip in church.”

“And Jack insists that the walls and roof actually be aligned,” Jeremy teased with a wink to Victoria. “Imagine that.”

“Good morning, Victoria!” Caroline called, waving her free hand.

Jack straightened as if noticing Victoria for the first time and yanked the hat off his head. “Victoria. Good morning. You didn’t have to come out.”

“I wanted to,” she assured him. “Let me know when you’re ready to take a break.”

Jeremy set the plumb bob down on the ground. “How about now?”

Jack frowned at him. “We just got started.”

“Good time to interrupt, then,” his brother said. He tipped his head to his wife, who abandoned her end of the twine and came to join him.

With a sigh, Jack followed suit.

Soon, Jeremy and Caroline had moved to one side, heads close together. The smiles passing between them, the way Jeremy cradled her hand, raised such a longing in Victoria she had to grip the tray to keep from swaying. Could she ever have such a love?

“Honeymooners,” Jack said, smiling as he shook his head.

“Every couple should be so fortunate,” Victoria insisted.

He regarded her a moment, then took a cautious sip of water before commenting. “Is that what you hope for?”

Until she’d met him, it hadn’t been. Perhaps the long days of toil caring for her parents and then Phyllis had done more damage to her hopes than she’d thought. Certainly Phyllis had had a dismal outlook on life. Whatever the cause, somewhere along the way, Victoria had given up on the idea of a love match. Now she couldn’t stop the hope that was building.

“I suppose every girl wants a sweetheart who dotes on her,” she told Jack. “My parents were affectionate.”

“Mine too,” he acknowledged. “They claim to have fallen in love at first sight.” He shifted on his feet as if uncomfortable with the idea.

She couldn’t claim to have been felled by love’s first look, but every day she found more to admire about him. His quiet leadership, his dedication. The way his smile melted every concern.

“There must be as many paths to love as there are couples,” she said. “Every courtship is unique in that regard.”

He drew in a breath as if she’d eased a burden. “I agree. Any two people will bring something a little different to a relationship.” He glanced across the foundation to where Jeremy was bending his head to kiss his bride. “I’m not sure how much work we’re going to get out of those two today.”

“Let’s give them a few more moments,” Victoria said with a smile. She set the tray down on a nearby rock, then perched on another. Jack came to sit on a third. It seemed he didn’t mind conversation after all. Before she knew it, they were chatting about their childhoods. She learned he’d been born in Virginia, but his father had moved the growing family first to California and then progressively north before taking a claim on Hawks Prairie.

“We always had a house in town,” she said, “with neighbors on every side. I can’t imagine growing up first in a tent and then a cabin with no one around for miles!”

“It never felt hard to me,” he said. “I suspect Ma and Pa took on more of the tasks then, but Jesse, our oldest brother, was born the biggest and strongest of us all, so he started lending a hand when he was pretty young.”

Victoria smiled at him. “And you and your younger brothers learned those tricks in the saddle. What else did you do for fun?”

“Fun?” He blew out his cheeks as if the answer was hard to come by.

“Fun,” she insisted. “Like me riding with my father. And in the winter, we’d ice skate on the pond near where we rode.”

His gaze went off in the distance as if he peered back in time, and a smile teased the corners of his mouth.

“I remember one summer Pa had an extra wagon wheel rim. We used to roll that circle of iron up and down the drive, whacking it with sticks. I figured out that if I stayed in the middle of the track, between the ruts, I could keep the rim up the longest. Didn’t take long for Jacob to notice what I was doing and copy me, even if he was smaller. He sulked when Pa took it back to put on the wagon, but I understood. Work has to come first.”

“That’s what Jack always says,” Joy put in, coming to contribute a few stray rocks to the foundation. “May I have that agate by your foot, Victoria? It would look ever so nice at the point of the heart.”

Victoria swung her skirts aside, but Jack seemed to have realized he was putting pleasure before work, for he rose and clapped his hands. “Break’s over. We need to finish setting the foundation and get back to the ranch.”

Jeremy broke away from Caroline with obvious reluctance, then jogged back to his plumb bob as she took up her place across from Jack again.

“You’re welcome to stay and help, Victoria,” Jeremy called as she reached for the tray. “I’m sure Caroline, Joy, and I would enjoy your company even if Jack doesn’t.”

Jack jerked upright. “Who says I don’t enjoy her company?”

His brother arched a brow. “Oh, so you do favor her. My mistake.”

Jack’s face reddened. “Pay him no mind, Victoria. You are always welcome, but I’m sure you have things you’d rather be doing.”

“Nothing more pressing than being with you,” she assured him.

That slow smile sent her stomach into a flip.

In the center of the foundation, Jeremy bent to his tool. “Could we please focus on the task? Some of us have things to do.”

Caroline giggled, but she bent to place the line.

Victoria stayed a while longer, helping Joy move rocks that were interfering with the leveling process. Mrs. Dalrymple nearly purred like a cat in the cream when Victoria finally returned to the house.

“Things are coming along well, I see,” she said. “Tomorrow, we’ll work on laundry and housekeeping.”

***

Wednesday, Victoria was hanging out sheets on the clothesline behind the parsonage when Jack and Jane rode in to the church site. Another young man drove a buckboard wagon up beside them. Jane saw to the horses while the newcomer and Jack began unloading stump-like chunks of wood from the wagon bed. Did Jack look tired already? Were his movements a little stiff? Surely even those broad shoulders needed a rest once in a while! Everything in her itched to go talk to him, help him, but she could hardly leave wet things clumped in the wash basket. She might not have done laundry before—and what a hot, tiresome process it was!—but even she knew that.

The backdoor of the parsonage banged as Mrs. Dalrymple hurried down the steps, broad-brimmed hat in one hand.

“Here,” she said, thrusting it at Victoria. “Take this. He needs something better to shield himself from the sun. Men like it when women fuss over them. I’ll finish the laundry.”

Bemused, Victoria accepted the hat and went to join the others at the worksite.

The men had already peeled off their coats and were taking up tools, a shovel for Jack and a heavy mallet for his helper, who had bright blond hair and light blue eyes.

He hastily lowered his tools and bobbed his head as she approached. “Ma’am. Can we help you?”

Jack turned and smiled, and the whole day brightened. “Victoria.” He just gazed at her a moment, and she felt the color rising in her cheeks.

The other young man cleared his throat.

Jack collected himself. “Miss Milford, this is our neighbor, Mr. Hartley.”

“Your family hosted services last Sunday,” Victoria realized. “I believe I met your father.”

“That’s right,” he said with a final nod. “Pa said he wanted me to meet you, but you were otherwise detained.” He glanced at Jack as if he knew entirely who was to blame there.

“I’m new to the area,” Victoria explained. “Mrs. Dalrymple is trying to introduce me to everyone. I’m very glad to see you here to help Mr. Willets today. This is a big project, and his family has been working so hard.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” Mr. Hartley said, raising his head and squaring his shoulders as if prepared to do battle.

Victoria turned to Jack and offered the hat. “Mrs. Dalrymple thought you might need this. I’m more curious about what you’re doing today. Surely those logs are too small to start the walls.”

“They’re the supports,” Jack said, accepting the hat and slipping it over his hair. “Hartley and I are going to pound them into the foundation, and Jane’s going to check that they’re level. We’ll set the beams across them, then the floor joists over the beams before we put in the flooring.”

“Fascinating,” Victoria said.

Mr. Hartley flexed his arms, showing off the muscles along his shoulders. “Nothing gets the blood moving like a day with a mallet.” He swung up his tool and strutted over to the foundation.

“I better help before he hurts himself,” Jack said. “I’m not sure what you can do today, Victoria, but I appreciate you and Mrs. Dalrymple thinking of me.”

She thought of him entirely too much! But she merely smiled as he went to dig a spot for the first support.

Jane came to join her. Her fiery hair was mostly hidden inside a plain straw bonnet that was fraying along one side. “Mr. Hartley is trying to impress, I see.”

“So I gathered,” Victoria said as he rolled one of the massive pegs into Jack’s hole, then glanced up as if to make sure she was watching. “I thought maybe he was trying to get your attention.”

“Not mine,” Jane assured her with a laugh. “And I wouldn’t be interested if he was. He needs a bit more time to cure. Besides, I don’t think he likes having to look up into my eyes. Most men don’t, it seems.” She shrugged.

“Then they have far too fragile consequences,” Victoria said. “I’ve heard of tall women who slumped to make men feel more comfortable. I’m glad you don’t.”

“Me too.” Jane shared a smile with her. “Besides, I always thought it was more satisfying to be valued for who you are, not who others want you to be.”

“That,” Victoria said, gaze going back to Jack, “is what I’m coming to learn.”

***

She wasn’t afraid to work. Jack had to give Victoria that. Smart too. She’d only seen Jeremy use the plumb bob yesterday, as far as he knew, but she was using it to help Jane make sure the row of supports was level with each other, with no protest as to the amount of dust clinging to her flounced hem.

“Mighty pretty gal,” Hartley said, pausing to wipe his brow with the back of his gloved hand. “You courting her?”

“I am,” Jack said, and if he sounded proud of the fact, he was willing to acknowledge it.

Hartley sighed. “Figures. First Miss Cadhill marries your brother, and now you latch onto the next unmarried gal who shows up on Hawks Prairie.”

Jack positioned the support in the hole and held it while Hartley brought the mallet down with a whack. “To be fair, Jeremy wrote away for Miss Cadhill, and I asked Mrs. Dalrymple to help me find a bride.”

Hartley slammed down the mallet again. “Maybe I should do that, then, talk to the minister’s wife.”

Jack eyed him. Brett Hartley was young, having just turned one and twenty, but his father had entrusted him with more and more responsibility at the prosperous Lakeside Ranch, and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. “You know I have three sisters of marriageable age.”

Hartley smacked the support, then nodded to Jack, who tried to wiggle it. It didn’t move.

Hartley leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Jenny’s sweet, but she never pays me the least mind. I hear Joanna has her heart set on Miss Cadhill’s brother. And your sister Jane scares me.”

Jack couldn’t help his chuckle as Hartley straightened, cheeks reddening. “I reckon Jane scares a few fellows. She can out-ride and out-shoot most of them. But she’s smart, and she’s loyal, and she knows her way around a ranch. The man who wins her heart will be one lucky groom.”

Hartley straightened and glanced at Jane again as if seeing her with new eyes. Then he shook his head and went to fetch the next support.

Jack looked to where his sister was pointing something out along the line of foundation rocks to Victoria. Aside from the red of their hair, they couldn’t be more different. Victoria was daintier, more refined in her movements. Her clothes were tailored to her form and appeared to be chosen with care. Jane threw on whatever was handy, like that green gingham dress whose only tailoring was the cinch at her hips made by her gun belt.

His sister bent now and heaved on a rock. It must have proven too heavy even for her, for Victoria hurriedly crouched as if to help her. Jack tossed aside the shovel and strode toward them.

“Here,” he said. “Allow me.” He wrestled the boulder closer to the other stones until they fit snugly. As he straightened, he caught Victoria watching him. His shoulders came back, and his chest puffed out. What, was he posturing, like Hartley?

Her cheeks looked as hot as his felt, but maybe she had a better reason. He yanked off the hat and offered it to her. “Looks like the sun’s kissed you. Maybe you need this more than I do.”

“Maybe she’s hoping for a kiss from someone other than the sun,” Jane pointed out.

Victoria backed away. “No, no, you keep it. I should see about finishing the laundry. I hope everything goes well.” She picked up her skirts and fled across the grass.

Jack shoved the hat back on his head. “You didn’t have to frighten her off.”

“You didn’t have to strut around like a rooster,” Jane countered. “And I don’t think she’s remotely afraid of you. More like you’re afraid of her.”

“What! Am not.” Immediately, he felt like a boy again, arguing with his sister about who could ride faster, jump higher.

Jane didn’t help. She stuck out her tongue at him. “Are too, or you would have proposed by now.”

He closed the distance between them and lowered his voice, mindful of Hartley behind them. “I’m taking my time, making sure she’s comfortable with me.”

“Oh, I’d say she’s comfortable,” Jane said. “See how she keeps coming out like that every time we start working? See how she talks to you so easily, like you’re old friends?”

“Maybe she’s lonely,” he hazarded. “She doesn’t know many folks here yet.”

“No offense, Jack, but a lot of other menfolk would be happy to talk with her, and more eloquently than you do.”

He grimaced. “You don’t have to rub salt in the wound.”

“You know your limitations as well as I know mine,” Jane said, cuffing him on the shoulder. “And I hope you know your stellar qualities as well. You love your family, you’re a hard worker, and you’re a born problem-solver. She’d be fortunate to have you. So, ask her.”

“Not yet,” Jack insisted. “Not ’til she’s sure.”

Jane shook her head. “Then you better do something to make her sure, because Hartley and Goodenough won’t be the last fellows chasing after her. And they won’t hesitate.”

That’s what he feared.