Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Jace kicked his way through the ashes and debris.
He picked up three bits with leather still clinging to them.
The tines of the fork stopped him in his tracks.
The shattered, scarred remains of the lantern blared accusation at him.
The toe of his boot connected with the evidence, and it went sailing, landing with a crash.
He turned in the opposite direction and didn’t stop until he reached the fence enclosing the horses.
Sam! He’d plumb forgotten the beast. Poor Sam and the other two horses.
“What kind of man neglected his animals?” The words rang in Chet’s voice.
Not me. Jace returned to the wagon, unhitched the two animals standing patiently in front of it, released Sam from behind, and took them to the water. “I’ll give you some oats.” Except—
The oat bin had been part of the barn. All that remained was a soggy, spoiled mass.
“You’ll enjoy the fresh grass.” He led them to a decent spot and closed the gate.
His stomach growled, reminding him of the short rations he’d been on for the past several days, and he crossed the yard in hurried strides.
Eddie and Skip sat on the porch, the boy’s arm around the dog’s neck. Eddie whispered something to Skip.
Jace smiled. “I once had a dog who was my best friend.” Bub had been mottled gray and brown. A fuzzy little creature with the friendliest face. Jace coughed against the scratchiness in his throat. It was just a dog. Dogs didn’t live long. But it was one more loss to strangle him.
Jerking his attention from the affection between the boy and Skip, Jace clattered up the steps and thudded into the kitchen.
The aromas slammed into him, stalling him in the spot.
Mae, the housekeeper, had left after Chet’s death, saying it wasn’t the same without him.
She made good meals, but seeing Dianne at the stove, one of Mae’s aprons about her waist as she bent over to sniff a bubbling pot, untethered something inside Jace.
Well, that was plain foolish. He hung his hat and washed at the nearby washstand. “Smells yummy in here.”
“It’s nothing special.” She smiled at him. “But I guarantee it’s better than beans.”
He pretended to be hurt. “What’s wrong with beans?”
She waved as if to dismiss the idea. “They’re fine in their place.” A shudder crossed her shoulders. He couldn’t decide if it was fake or real. “Sure wouldn’t want to have to live on them though.”
Nor would he, but he would let her think what she wanted.
Rather than continue this line of conversation, she tipped her head toward the table.
“It’s ready. Have a seat.” She called Eddie to come in.
Stopped him at the door. “Skip stays outside.” Ignoring Eddie’s protest and Skip’s whine, she helped her son wash his hands, then carried a pot to the table and set it on a trivet.
“I would have used a tureen, but I couldn’t find one. ”
“This is fine.” When she brought over a stack of fluffy golden biscuits, he swallowed back a flood of saliva.
Eddie sat without waiting for instruction.
Both Jace and Dianne stood awkwardly, waiting for the other to choose a chair.
“It’s your house. You sit at the head of the table.”
He wanted to remind her he didn’t want to own the place, but what was the point? She already knew. “If you sit at the end, you can tend Eddie.”
“Very well.” She pulled out the chair, and he chose the one across from the boy.
When they were all seated, she looked at him.
He knew what she expected but hesitated.
Saying grace established him as the head of the household, but he had no intention of taking that role.
The growl of his stomach reminded him he was wasting time he could be using to eat, so he bowed his head and repeated the words Ma taught him when he was about Eddie’s age.
“Our heavenly Father, kind and good, we thank Thee for our daily food. We thank Thee for Thy love and care. Be with us, Lord. Amen.”
Dianne scooped thick potato soup into Eddie’s bowl, then reached for Jace’s to fill it. “I like that prayer. It reminds me God is interested in every portion of our lives, and He takes care of us.” His bowl full, she turned to her own. “Help yourself to a biscuit.” She handed one to Eddie.
She didn’t require a response. But Jace couldn’t stop the words from rushing out. “You mean like He took care of Chet?” And my parents and sisters and even Bub. Bub wasn’t a great example.
Her spoon clicked to the table, and her gaze rose to him. “Jace, I can’t begin to understand why bad things happen, but at times, I’m surprised they don’t happen more often.”
“What does that mean?”
“Have you ever paused to consider how many times and ways God protects us, and we likely don’t know a fraction of it? For instance, me rescuing Eddie from the river.”
The boy stopped eating long enough to look at his mother. “I was cold.”
She patted her son’s hand. “I know you were. Thank God He kept you safe.”
Eddie returned to his food, and Dianne brought her attention back to Jace.
“God provided a place for us to shelter. And then there was that moose. It could have turned out differently.” The eagerness in her eyes faded.
“Or the wagon might have gone over the edge of the trail taking us all with it.” A smile filled her face and eyes.
“I choose to believe God has us in His care.”
He couldn’t let it go. “Except when He doesn’t.”
“I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. I choose to trust Him through the good and the bad.”
Such conviction was impossible to refute, and he didn’t try. “Chet was like that.”
“You mean he trusted God?”
Jace recognized the challenge in her gentle words. “I guess so.”
“That’s great to hear. Have another biscuit.” She held the platter toward him.
“They’re good. Mine are always tough.” His voice hardened. “I’ll have plenty of practice making my own in the coming days.”
Only a flicker of her eyelids acknowledged his comment. “I like to cook. There are lots of supplies here.” A troubled note crept into her voice. “Jace, what do I do when I run low?”
“You can purchase whatever you need in town.”
She scraped her spoon around the empty bowl. “I was counting on Chet’s generosity.”
His generosity? She meant she had no funds. “Chet had an account with the storekeeper. You can charge everything to him.”
Troubled brown eyes lifted. “Will they charge to someone who is no longer here?”
“I’ll need to purchase supplies for the cabin. I’ll make arrangements for the ranch at the same time.” It wasn’t going to be as easy to be done with the place as he thought.
She nodded.
“Mama, I’s done. Can I go play?”
“You may be excused.”
The boy clattered out the door and began talking to the dog.
Dianne turned her spoon round and round.
Jace waited for her to say what was on her mind. She seemed disinclined to tell him. “Something bothering you?”
“Uh? What?” She drew in a long breath. “Could you help me bring in my luggage?”
“Of course.” He should have thought of it.
“I’ve made coffee. Enjoy it while I clean the kitchen.” She set a steaming cupful before him.
“I hope there’s an adequate supply of coffee beans. I wouldn’t want to run out.” Wait. He made it sound like he was staying. “I’ll buy some when I go to town.”
“Lots of tea and coffee. As far as I can tell, there’s lots of most things.”
“Did you go to the cellar? Mae, the housekeeper, put up plenty of preserves. I expect there are still some left.”
Water splashed as she washed dishes. “I’ll have a look later.”
“Be careful on the stairs. They’re steep.”
“I’ll be careful.” A dish whispered across a shelf as she put it away. She finished the cleanup and dumped the water out the door, watering the bushes by the step just as Mae had done.
“Chet brought those bushes with him when he came west. Told me they came from a bush his mother was fond of.”
“It looks like honeysuckle.”
“That’s what Chet called it.” Everywhere Jace turned, something had Chet’s name on it. Reason enough not to stay. “The birds like it. Chet kept it pruned. Said if he didn’t, it would take over.”
“You’ll have to do it now.”
“Have you forgotten I won’t be here?”
She brought the coffeepot and refilled his cup, filling one for herself as well before she returned to her seat.
It didn’t escape him that she ignored his question.
“I didn’t have time to make dessert, but I’ll make something for supper.
I see rhubarb by the corner of the shed.
” She tipped her head to indicate the direction she meant.
As if he didn’t know the location. “Thought I’d make a pie or two.
” Her throat worked as she drank a mouthful of coffee before she added, “I make really good pies.”
Did she mean to tempt him to stay with hints of her cooking? It wasn’t going to work. He’d manage his own cooking even if it fell far short of what she offered.
He drained his cup and shoved it to the middle of the table. “I’ll bring in your things.” If he’d been thinking, he would’ve asked Cal or Lee to help, but it was too late for that.
She followed him out the front door to where the wagon stood. He dragged her trunk to the end. Together, they carried it into the house. He made sure she went up the stairs first so the bulk of the weight fell to him.
They set the trunk down in the hallway. “Where to?” Had she decided on a room?
“This one has two beds. We’ll stay here. I like the view.”
“You can see the river from this room. But there isn’t a direction where you don’t have a great view.
” Why did each word choke from his throat?
Did she notice? To divert her, he picked up one end of the trunk and waited for her to lift the other.
They set it inside the door. He studied the room. Did it look spartan to her?