Chapter 13
Ben aligned the log across the two sawhorses.
Five inches in diameter should be about right.
He’d sacrificed a young pecan tree in order to find a suitable replacement for one of the posts supporting the cabin’s porch.
A deep crack a foot long threatened to split the existing one in two. “Hold her steady now.”
Charlie patted Jack on the head and stood. “Jack wants to help too.”
“This is man’s work. Jack will have to wait.” He rocked the log. “You’ve got to put all your muscles into it.”
Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Charlie gripped the wood. “You’ll see how strong I am.”
Ben smiled and picked up the draw knife from the ground.
Dew glistened on the grass beneath the early-morning sun. A bluebird’s wavering call fluttered from a nearby tree.
Post end against his right hip, Ben gripped both knife handles and leaned forward as far as he could down the seven-foot log.
Good, solid work is what he needed to keep his mind off Cora.
The way her loose hair had fallen like folds of silk across her shoulders and down her back last night, lapping against the red shawl…
He connected the blade with the wood at an angle and drew the knife back toward him, shaving a ribbon of bark and lichen along the way.
“It’s like lifting up a cover.” Charlie held his end steady. “I wonder if there’s any bugs in there.” He stared at the newly revealed smooth cream-colored streak.
“Hold her steady,” Ben commanded as he drew the blade to the end. He ripped the last threads holding the bark in place and tossed the ribbon to the ground.
“Can I have it?” Charlie reached down to pet Jack, who pawed at his shins.
“We’ll see.” Ben winked. “You show me a good morning of work, and you’ll earn all the shavings.”
“Maybe I’ll make a fort with them.”
Ben rolled the log a couple of inches and nodded to the end. Charlie grabbed it and nudged Jack away with his foot. Draw and peel, draw and peel. They finished off the bottom half in a short while. Time to switch ends.
The back door banged, and Cora came around the side of the house, her hair in a loose knot at the back of her head, tiny wisps flying about her face. She carried a wide reed basket by one handle, allowing the open mouth to whap against her skirts.
Ben removed his slouch hat and ran a hand over his hair. “Morning.” It was the first time he’d seen her since last night. She’d sent breakfast out to him with word he was welcome to come to supper.
A rosy pink colored her cheeks. “I came to see if you had any laundry for me to do. I’ve had mine and Charlie’s soaking since last night. Forgot to ask for yours.”
He rested his hand on the log. It wobbled, almost throwing him off balance. His neck heated. Last thing he needed was to look like he couldn’t even stand up straight. “I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.”
“I haven’t seen a stitch of your clothing in two-and-a-half weeks.” She jabbed a hand to her hip. “You do believe in bathing, don’t you?” A smirk tugged at her lips.
“I’ve been washing my clothes out in the washbasin.”
“You probably slosh water all over the floor and only get your clothes half clean.” She rolled her eyes. “If you’ll fetch me your clothes, I’ll do them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With a chuckle, he saluted and hurried off for the stable. Her very presence added an extra layer of sunshine to his day.
By the time he returned with the basket half full, she’d already headed to the back yard.
Charlie lugged a bucket of water toward her washstand, an old cart with one end propped up on a low stone wall and one side of the railing removed.
Two wooden tubs sat on its bed. A rusty iron kettle swung over a fire pit.
Cora knelt beside it, arranging kindling atop logs.
Ben set the basket by the cart and quickstepped to the kettle before the boy had a chance to accidentally douse the wood. “Let me help.”
“It’s heavy.” Charlie heaved the bucket handle upward, elbows close to his chest.
Cora scooted out of the way as Ben poured the water into the kettle. “Charlie tells me you two are thinking about riding the land today.”
Ben handed the bucket to the boy. “I figure the cattle situation has to be the top priority. I’ll finish stripping the log this morning and then let it set a couple days.
” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I need a good understanding of the layout of the land before I bring cattle here.” Good understanding?
What he needed was to find an old-timer with a thorough knowledge of ranching and soak in every word the man had to say.
“I suppose so.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Charlie will be a big help. He can show you the land boundaries.”
“That’s the plan.” Ben’s Adam’s apple dipped as Cora trailed her fingers from her cheekbone to her collarbone.
“I think Cora should come too.” Charlie swung the bucket like a pendulum. “I might not know all the boundaries.” Suddenly, the boy who knew everything, didn’t? A smile snickered at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll bring my rifle in case I see a deer.”
“You ought to bring your rifle in case you see a raiding party, but don’t go shooting unless Ben tells you so.” Cora dusted her hands against each other. “I’ll have supper waiting.”
Ben flexed his fingers. His gaze fell into her murky blue irises. “We could all go and bring food, have a pic—” He bit his tongue.
A frown clouded Cora’s expression.
Stupid of him to get anywhere near the word picnic. Best to stay away from anything that smacked of more than business, or he’d be banished to the stable loft for his meals again. “You’re the expert on the boundaries, Cora.”
“Charlie can show you well enough for now. I’ve got laundry to do.”
“We could wait for tomorrow?” My goodness. What had gotten into him? He was worse than some schoolboy.
“Tomorrow, I’ll have the gardening.” She headed toward an overturned washtub by the stone wall. “Besides, knowing the exact boundary markers isn’t essential until we find the cattle.”
He beat her to the tub and snatched it from her grasp.
She huffed. “I can carry that.”
“Just being a gentleman.” He dodged her reach and clunked the thick oak tub with its iron bands onto the cart.
She jabbed a hand to her hip, but there was a flicker of light in her gaze. “You have your own work to do. If I can’t handle the laundry on my own, I have no reason to be out here on this ranch.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll have the whole afternoon to yourself, and then tomorrow, I plan to ride into town.”
She blinked at him. “You just went to town yesterday.”
“But that was before you commissioned me to locate Goodnight and Loving.”
“I’m sorry. I should have spoken up earlier.
” She blew out a breath. “But I can point you in the right direction. You don’t have to go into Weatherford.
Goodnight’s ranch is in Palo Pinto County, west of here.
And from what I hear, Mr. Loving owns a large stead in Keetchi Creek Valley, same county. ”
Ben tipped his hat back and swiped his arm over his forehead.
“If they’re rounding up cattle, they could be anywhere riding the range.
” He hooked his thumbs around his suspenders.
“From what I can tell, most everyone west of here travels to Weatherford for supplies, so I’m betting someone there should have an idea about their current whereabouts.
Besides, going into town will give me another opportunity to look for a horse for myself. I can’t keep using yours.”
A furrow dipped between her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were planning to buy a horse.”
There it was again. That concern that maybe he’d take up roots and not skedaddle as soon as his task was complete. “I can’t head off to search for cattle a week or two at a time on your horse. I want you to have Sandy here in case you need her.”
“I suppose you’re right. It’s just that I’d hate to see you go to the expense of purchasing a horse and then not be able to take the animal with you when you catch the stagecoach home.”
That day could take its time coming as far as he was concerned. “I’ll sell her when the time comes.” He picked up the bucket and headed for the well.
Passing Charlie on the way, he switched his empty bucket for the boy’s full one and took charge of filling the kettle, catching glimpses of Cora scrubbing away on the washboard. His shirt, his trousers… Taking care of his things like—he cut the thought off before it had a chance to sprout.
Six more trips, and not only was the kettle well on its way to boiling, the rinse water brimmed near the top of the oak tub.
“Charlie and I will head off soon.” He cleared his throat and stepped clear of a bee buzzing on a clover blossom.
“Good idea.” She straightened. His soaking-wet shirt dangled from her hand. “I’ll fix you some bread and cheese to take. And be careful. Keep a look out for rattlers and raiders.”
“We’ll keep our guns handy.” He exhaled.
Did he dare venture his question? “I’ve been thinking…
” He flexed his hands at his sides. “Although I’m willing to negotiate with Goodnight or Loving and work on a deal, maybe you’d prefer to be there too.
In case there’s anything we need to discuss before finalizing an agreement.
I’m fine acting on your behalf, but I figure you might want a say so. ”
What was he doing handing her half of the reins, when he’d had them firmly in his hands?
He ought to have his head examined for inviting Cora.
He should meet with the men on his own. Quicker trip, more decisive with fewer potential objections—not to mention the impropriety of traveling overnight with a woman who wasn’t his wife.
He didn’t know how they did things out here in Texas, but back East, that’d be a marrying offense, regardless of the nine-year-old chaperone. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
Cora tossed his shirt into the kettle of boiling water and wiped her hands on her canvas apron. “I’ll think on it.”
He shrugged. “Suits me fine either way.” Right. That’s why his pulse strummed in his wrists. He pivoted toward the corral without another word, his only tell the tapping of his fingers to his leg.
“Ben?”
He turned. Their gazes met, her irises the shade of bluebonnets, a field of spring in one look.
“You find out where one or both of the men are”—her voice wavered—“and I’ll go with you and Charlie to negotiate with them. No use sending you all the way across the county and have you come back to consult with me before taking care of business.”
He sucked in his cheeks, squashing the smile which threatened to erupt. “Makes good sense. Don’t want to waste time.” He tipped his hat and walked off.
Around the corner, he smacked his gloves against his trousers as he strode back to the corral, trampling grass and a pile of ants in his wake. She had said yes. It was about time she got away from this place and thought of something other than chores. A song buzzed through him—
Whoa. His feet stopped moving, almost toppling him on his face. Realization struck. He was falling for Cora Scott.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Mercy. Couldn’t be.
He started forward, drifting toward the well.
Once there, he leaned his hands on the cool stone wall, beneath the shade of the small roof.
For a whole year, after he’d returned from the war, he’d delayed proposing to Olivia, his feelings mired in mud.
And here he was…a whistle on his lips and a spring in his step.
It had to be the laudanum, or the lack thereof. The brown liquid had dulled his heart and his head. Now that he was free of its talons, any bit of sunshine felt like the Fourth of July.
He cranked the bucket up, lifted the dipper from its hook on the side post, and poured the water over his face and down his shirt.
That should bring him to his senses. He didn’t have to worry.
This infatuation—if it was even that—was just his first breath of freedom from the dungeon which had enclosed him ever since Andersonville, or even before that in Belle Isle.
Besides, Cora Scott wanted nothing to do with him.
No danger there. It’d be a tall order just to earn her respect and friendship. That was his goal. Best not forget it.