Chapter 6
6
B ruce went from the field of wheat to the oats. Both looked good. There should be enough to feed her stock—though he didn’t even know what that consisted of—and provide flour for the family. From what he could tell, it was a prime piece of land. The soil was rich, the fields level, good grazing nearby with the river close enough to shelter and water cows. Stella’s husband had either picked it out with an eye to the possibilities, or he had been fortunate.
He looked at the prairie next to the oats. One furrow had been turned over. Looked like Frank had planned to break this piece of land. Bruce would now be the farmer who did it. As soon as he got a horse or oxen to pull the plow.
“Papa did this.” Donny kicked at the sod that lay with its roots up. “’Fore he got sick.”
Bruce squeezed the boy’s shoulder but said nothing. What could he offer in way of sympathy? Except—“My pa died when I was eight. I still miss him.”
Donny kicked the sod again and again. Unyielding before his onslaught. Just as life was in the face of death and disappointment. “Donny, we have to keep on living. Accepting what is. Trusting God to hold us and guide us.”
Donny sank to the ground, perched on the turned-up soil like it was a backless sofa. He sniffed. “Papa would want me to be brave.”
“And so you are.” Bruce sat beside the boy, knowing that words were unnecessary and sometimes even pointless and annoying.
“Your pa meant to plow this piece, didn’t he?”
“Said we had to break more land to provide what we need.”
“Guess you and I’ll have to do it for him.”
Donny perked up. “He’d want us to.”
“Then it’s settled. Anything else he wanted done?” It was a question he’d ask Stella. Together, they would make plans.
“He wanted to get more cows.” Donny stood and waved toward the river. “Said it was a great place for them.”
“More cows it is.” Blossom sat in a patch of grass humming quietly. He called for her to join them, and they made their way back to the house.
The door stood ajar, and Stella stepped out. “Dinnertime,” she called.
The children ran toward her.
Bruce followed more slowly as Stella waited for him. “I’ve been looking over the place,” he said, as he drew closer.
“What do you think?”
“It’s a promising piece of land. Your husband did well in choosing this.”
Her wary expression turned to a smile. “A promising pleasant place.” She stepped aside to let him enter. “Aunt Mary says she’d like to sit out here with the rest of us.”
He went into the bedroom. “How are you feeling?” he asked his aunt.
“Sore but glad to be settled. You did the right thing coming here. Stella is kind. She brought me tea and told me about the farm. She’ll be good for you.”
Stella came into the room in time to hear Aunt Mary’s comments and chuckled. “It’s early for you to be deciding if I’m going to be good for him or not.” She supported Aunt Mary’s leg while Bruce carried her to the big chair.
Stella drew a kitchen chair close and padded it with a pillow. “It’s too high, but Bruce will fix you a stool after dinner.”
Aunt Mary patted her hand. “Thank you, my dear. You and Bruce are going to make a great team.”
Donny laughed. “Like horses?”
Bruce grinned at Stella. “Sure hope I don’t have to pull the plow.”
She looked away, seeming flustered. “Kade has my animals. I’ll have to arrange to bring them back.”
“I could go over there, but not today. I want to check the fences, make a stool for Aunt Mary, and clean out the far pen of the barn.”
She straightened and looked at him. “What’s wrong with the far pen?”
“Just some hay scattered about. It won’t take more than a few minutes to clean it.”
“Odd.” She shrugged. “Maybe Kade and Flora fed horses when they were here.”
That made sense. Sort of. Perhaps they’d taken a nap there as well. It would be cool out of the sun.
“They planted a garden as well as the crops. Such good people.” She indicated he should join them at the table. He sat at one end, she at the other, with a child on either side, and Aunt Mary nearby, taking in everything despite her pain.
The others looked at him. He understood what they wanted. After all, Aunt Mary had raised him right. “Shall we pray?”
The children bowed their heads and closed their eyes. Stella watched him a moment, as if measuring his worth. Then she bowed her head. Had he been found adequate or wanting?
He drew in a slow breath and remembered the truths Aunt Mary had taught him of God’s love and acceptance and provision—all things he was grateful for. And none more than the assurance that God knew him and cared for him.
He offered a heartfelt, but short, prayer of thanks for the food and for the home they shared. “Amen.”
Stella filled his bowl with a thick soup. She had filled the children’s already, allowing time for the contents to cool. She passed him a platter of biscuits. He took three and buttered them as she buttered one each for the children. They began to eat while she took soup and biscuits to Aunt Mary.
“Thank you, my dear. It is so good of you to take on my care. I’ll try not to be a nuisance.”
Stella knelt on the floor beside Aunt Mary and smiled at her. “Never think you are a nuisance.”
“Thank you, my dear. I do believe you two getting together is God-directed. He moves in mysterious ways.”
Stella chuckled as she returned to the kitchen table. “You and the preacher would agree on that, though I think I could do with a little less uncertainty in my life.”
Bruce felt again the sting of her not trusting him. Not that he could blame her. Trust too easily given was destined for disappointment. He’d learned that lesson well, thanks to Louella and her treacherous behavior. For now, their vows before man and God had to be enough.
“The preacher seemed like a good man.” Aunt Mary’s words brought Bruce’s thoughts back to the present. He wondered at his aunt’s faith in this marriage that was really only a business deal that benefitted them all. He was glad his aunt was happy with the arrangement between him and Stella, but they’d only been here a few hours. He hoped everyone was as happy a few weeks from now. A few months. Knowing they’d agreed to forever, he added, a few years.
Donny asked again after the animals.
Realizing how much it meant to the boy, Bruce turned to Stella. “How ’bout if I check the fences this afternoon, and then tomorrow I can ride over and see about your livestock?”
She met his gaze across the table, then she nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”
He couldn’t begin to guess what thoughts ran through her head and made her so cautious about accepting anything he said. But he had plenty of time to learn about her.
The soup was tasty, the biscuits fluffy, and the chocolate cake sweet and delicious. He finished and leaned back. “That was very good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad to please you.” Did she sound a little surprised? Again, their gazes caught and held. Again, he wished he could guess what she thought. Was she expecting him to be ungrateful? Or was she unused to being thanked? Or—he tried to dismiss the thought that came up from the depths of his being—did she expect less from him, knowing he had been a street urchin?
Aunt Mary had been watching him. “He’s thinking you are surprised to hear that he’s so polite. Seems he feels he has to wear the label street urchin his entire life.”
“Aunt Mary!” The last thing he wanted was for Stella or her children to see him as needy. Worse, unworthy.
“Mama, what’s a street urchin?”
Stella smiled at Donny. “It just means someone whose parents have died so he has no home.”
Donny and Blossom looked at Bruce with eyes as wide as the biscuits they’d just eaten.
“At least we had you, Mama.” Donny’s voice trembled and Blossom’s eyes watered.
“Yes, you did.”
Aunt Mary spoke again. “And now you have all of us. Come and give me a hug.”
The children hurried to her side.
“Mind my leg now.” She pulled them close. “One big happy family.”
Stella looked at her children in Aunt Mary’s arms, gave Bruce a look he could only describe as challenging, then gathered up the used dishes and carried them to the dishpan.
Did she object to the children developing a fondness for his aunt? Or was she simply surprised by how readily she responded to them? She shouldn’t have been, knowing that Aunt Mary had taken him off the streets. Given him a home. Taught him to be a decent man.
But he understood her caution. Even admired her for it. A business deal, a farm to run, was one side of their agreement. Children and an aunt formed a different side. One they would all have to learn together. He could only hope and pray that, as they learned about each other, she wouldn’t regret the arrangement.
Bruce looked from Aunt Mary and the children to Stella. Then he pushed from the table, grabbed his hat, and strode from the house.
Stella’s hands lay idle in the wash water. Something had transpired in the last few minutes, but she couldn’t say what it was. Aunt Mary hinted at Bruce seeing himself as something other than the big strong man Stella saw. Ready to sacrifice for the good of others.
She dashed the dishes through the water and left them to dry on their own, put the food away, and swiped the table clean. “Children, stay here with Aunt Mary while I go outside.”
“She’s gonna talk to Uncle Bruce,” Donny said.
“Seems like a good idea,” Aunt Mary answered.
Stella saw Bruce kneeling at the corral fence examining one of the rails and hurried over before she could change her mind. “Why did you rush away?”
He kept his attention on the fence though she wondered what he saw. The rail looked solid to her.
“No one likes to be reminded of how poorly people once saw them.”
“Isn’t how you are now what matters?” She didn’t like talking to the top of his hat, but he stayed on the ground. Fine. She could do the same. She sat down with her back to the fence so they faced each other.
“Is your past something that the gal back in Kansas mocked you for?”
“Maybe.”
“From what you’ve told me, it seems she’d be the last one you’d listen to.”
He leaned back, pushed his hat off his forehead, and looked her in the eyes. A hard gleam slowly softened until a smile drew up the corners of his mouth. “I think you might be right.”
He turned and sat beside her, his back to the rail he’d been examining with such concern. “There’s no reason I should care what her opinion is of me.”
“None whatsoever.”
They sat side by side, looking at the scenery. For a spell neither of them spoke.
“How long were you with the Kinsleys?”
“More than three months. They’re good people, so it wasn’t a hardship, but I’m glad to be home.”
“So is Donny.”
“He certainly is.”
Bruce sat with his wrists on his drawn-up knees.
Her latent fears surfaced. If he wasn’t feeling like he belonged, would he leave? “It’s early for you and your aunt to have an opinion about us or the farm, but I hope you will grow to love the place as much as I do and feel as much at home.” She waited for a response. Nothing. What was he thinking? “Do you think that would be possible?”
He slowly faced her. “Aunt Mary taught me the feeling of home. Something I’d not known until she took me in. So long as she is happy here, I will be too.”
At that moment, Stella vowed she would make certain Aunt Mary was supremely happy to live right there. “I wonder if she needs to lie down again. And Blossom needs a nap.” She scrambled to her feet.
Bruce jumped up too, and they crossed the yard.
In the house, the children sat by Aunt Mary. Stella wondered which of the three had been entertaining the others. With Bruce’s help she got Aunt Mary settled in bed.
“Can I go with Uncle Bruce?” Donny asked.
“It’s fine with me, but you need to ask Uncle Bruce.”
“Can I?” The boy almost squirmed out of his skin with longing.
“I could sure use your help.” The pair left, Donny swaggering after Bruce.
Stella chuckled. This was what she wanted for her children. Home. Acceptance. Belonging. Learning how to do the things a farm required.
“Come on, Blossom. Time for your nap.”
Her little daughter climbed into bed without a fuss and closed her eyes.
Home sweet home. The words rang through Stella’s head as she went to the kitchen to think about supper. But the house seemed confining, and she stepped outside. Bruce and Donny walked along the corral fence, checking that each pole was secure. Twice they paused, and Bruce let Donny hammer at a spike then finished it himself with three strikes of his hammer. From the way Donny stood, Stella could tell Bruce had praised the boy’s efforts.
Soon her cattle would be back, grazing nearby. Her gaze went toward the river where they would soon be. Had the cows delivered healthy calves? Was the milk cow still producing? And her chickens? How had they fared? Something in the shadow of the trees moved. She squinted. Was it the wind moving the branches? But they moved laterally. Not the way swaying branches would.
Could it be a wild animal? A bear looking for more raspberries?
She shifted her attention back to Bruce and Donny. They were safe enough where they were. She stared at the trees a long time but didn’t see anything else. Could it have been her imagination?
She couldn’t be too cautious. She’d tell Bruce what she’d seen and keep the children close to the house until she could be certain no bears or other wildlife hung about.
The sound of riders approaching sent alarm skidding along her nerves. She patted her pocket where she’d put the beaded piece of leather and squinted, trying to see if the horses were the painted ponies the natives often rode.