8. Chapter 8
Late June brought scorching days to Crawford Ranch, the sun beating down mercilessly from cloudless skies.
Claudine adapted to the rhythm of summer ranch work, rising before dawn when the air still held night's coolness, completing household tasks during morning hours, and retreating indoors during the worst afternoon heat.
Lucy's knee had healed nicely, the stitches removed a week after her fall by the creek.
The child now followed Claudine everywhere, eager to help with every task from gathering eggs to kneading bread dough.
Her complete acceptance warmed Claudine's heart even as her own unacknowledged feelings for Michael grew more complicated.
One particular morning, Claudine stood at the kitchen window, watching Michael and the hands prepare for the summer cattle drive to higher pastures. The operation would take Michael and most of the men away from the ranch for three days, leaving only Tom Harris behind to assist Claudine and Lucy.
"Everything's arranged," Michael said, entering the kitchen for a final cup of coffee before departure. "Tom will handle any heavy work, and the Petersons will check on you daily."
"We'll manage perfectly well," Claudine assured him, pouring the coffee. "I've prepared enough food for your journey."
"Too much, probably." His mouth curved into a rare smile. "The men think you're trying to fatten them like prize hogs."
"Growing boys need proper nourishment." Claudine returned his smile, enjoying their easy morning conversation. These quiet moments before Lucy awoke had become precious to her, a private time when Michael's reserve softened slightly.
"Lucy will miss you," she added, slicing fresh bread for his breakfast.
"Only three days." Michael accepted the plate she offered. "Though I admit, this is the first time I've left her for several days since..."
"Since Sarah died," Claudine finished gently when he hesitated.
He nodded. "She was too young then to understand why I was leaving."
"She's old enough now to understand you'll return," Claudine said. "And I'll keep her well occupied."
"I know you will." His gaze lingered on her face. "You've brought remarkable changes to this household in just a month."
Before Claudine could respond, boots sounded on the porch, and Tom Harris appeared in the doorway.
"Men are ready when you are, boss," the foreman reported. "Packed and mounted."
"Be right there." Michael drained his coffee cup and rose from the table. "Thank you for breakfast, Claudine."
"You're welcome. Be careful."
"Always am."
Lucy appeared in her nightgown just as Michael prepared to leave, rushing into his arms for a goodbye hug. "Bring me a pinecone from the mountains, Papa!"
"I'll find the biggest one," he promised, kissing her forehead. With a final nod to Claudine, he strode out to join the waiting men.
Claudine and Lucy stood on the porch, waving as the riders disappeared down the long drive toward the foothills. An unexpected hollowness settled in Claudine's chest as Michael's figure receded into the distance. Three days suddenly seemed much longer than she had anticipated.
"What shall we do while Papa's away?" Lucy asked, slipping her small hand into Claudine's.
"I thought we might make preserves from those early strawberries in the garden," Claudine suggested, pushing aside her melancholy. "And perhaps visit Mrs. Peterson tomorrow."
"Can we have a tea party tonight? Just us ladies?"
"What a lovely idea." Claudine squeezed the child's hand. "Now, breakfast and chores first, then we'll plan our special tea party."
The day passed pleasantly with their usual routines. Claudine maintained Lucy's lessons in the morning, followed by gardening and household tasks. By afternoon, they had gathered a basket of ripe strawberries and begun preparing them for preserves.
"Mama, look!" Lucy exclaimed, pointing toward the window where dark clouds gathered suddenly over the distant mountains. "Storm coming."
Claudine glanced up, surprised by the rapidly changing weather. "So it is. We should check that everything's secure outside."
With Tom's help, they ensured animals were safely sheltered and loose items stored away before the storm hit. The temperature dropped dramatically as wind gusted across the ranch yard, bending young trees and sending dust swirling into the air.
"Going to be a big one," Tom predicted grimly as they hurried back toward the house. "These summer storms come up fast and hit hard."
"Will Papa be all right in the mountains?" Lucy asked, worry creasing her forehead.
"Your pa knows these mountains better than most," Tom assured her. "He'll find shelter if needed."
Claudine ushered them inside just as the first heavy raindrops fell. Within minutes, the storm unleashed its full fury. Thunder crashed overhead while lightning illuminated the darkened kitchen in brilliant flashes. Lucy pressed against Claudine's side, jumping at each thunderclap.
"Shall we bake cookies while we wait out the storm?" Claudine suggested, hoping to distract the child. "We'll need them for our tea party."
The strategy worked. Lucy became absorbed in measuring flour and rolling dough, her fear forgotten in the joy of creation. Claudine marveled at the child's resilience—her ability to move from fear to delight so quickly.
By evening, the storm had passed, leaving behind washed skies and the fresh scent of rain-soaked earth. Claudine and Lucy enjoyed their tea party by lamplight, complete with cookies, strawberry preserves, and Lucy's doll Millie as guest of honor.
"Papa would think this is silly," Lucy commented, carefully pouring imaginary tea for her doll.
"I'm not so sure," Claudine replied. "Your papa appreciates things that make you happy."
That night, after tucking Lucy into bed, Claudine sat alone in the parlor, mending by lamplight.
The house felt different with Michael away, quieter yet somehow emptier despite his typically reserved presence.
She listened for his footsteps, the familiar sound of his chair creaking as he reviewed ranch accounts in the evening hours.
The next morning brought clear skies and humid air. Claudine and Lucy completed morning chores, then prepared to visit the Peterson ranch as planned. Tom saddled the gentle mare Michael had designated for Claudine's use, though she'd had few opportunities to practice riding since her arrival.
"You sure you can manage, Mrs. Crawford?" Tom asked as he helped Claudine mount. "It's only two miles, but the creek might be running high after yesterday's storm."
"We'll be fine," Claudine assured him. "Lucy knows the way, and Daisy seems steady enough."
With Lucy riding double in front of her, Claudine guided the mare down the familiar trail toward the neighboring ranch. The child pointed out landmarks along the way, chattering happily about animals and plants they passed.
They rounded a bend in the trail to find the normally placid creek swollen with rainwater, churning brown and fast across their path. Claudine reined Daisy to a halt, studying the crossing with uncertainty.
"Papa always tests the depth with a stick," Lucy offered.
"Wise advice," Claudine replied, dismounting. "Let's look for another crossing point."
They led Daisy along the creek bank, searching for a narrower section. Eventually, they found a spot where fallen logs created a natural bridge across the water.
"We can cross here on foot," Claudine decided, tying Daisy to a nearby tree. "The mare can wait while we visit the Petersons."
Hand in hand, they approached the makeshift bridge. Claudine tested the largest log, finding it solid and relatively flat on top. "I'll go first," she told Lucy. "Then you follow exactly where I step."
Claudine crossed safely, then turned to guide Lucy.
The child moved carefully, placing her small boots precisely in Claudine's footprints.
Halfway across, Lucy's foot slipped on wet bark.
She teetered precariously for a heart-stopping moment before Claudine lunged forward, grasping her arm and pulling her to safety.
"That was close," Claudine breathed, hugging Lucy tightly.
"I was scared," Lucy admitted, clinging to Claudine's skirts.
"So was I." Claudine smoothed the child's curls. "Perhaps we should return home instead of continuing to the Petersons."
"But we promised," Lucy protested. "And the hard part is done."
Claudine considered their options. The crossing had been risky, but Lucy was right about their promised visit. Mrs. Peterson was expecting them, and might worry if they didn't arrive.
"Very well," she decided. "But we'll need to find a safer return route."
The Peterson ranch welcomed them warmly. Mrs. Peterson served refreshments while Lucy played with the Peterson grandchildren who were visiting from Helena. Claudine enjoyed the female companionship, exchanging household tips and local news.
"Michael seems different lately," Mrs. Peterson observed as they watched the children play. "Less... haunted."
"Does he?" Claudine kept her tone neutral despite the flutter in her chest.
"Sarah would approve," the older woman added gently. "She always worried about him raising Lucy alone. Said he'd close himself off without a woman's influence."
Claudine pondered this glimpse into Sarah's thoughts. "She sounds very wise."
"She was." Mrs. Peterson studied Claudine thoughtfully. "And she would like you, I think. Practical but kind-hearted. Exactly what Michael and Lucy needed."
Late afternoon brought gathering clouds, promising another evening storm. Claudine thanked their hosts and prepared for the journey home, grateful when Mr. Peterson offered to guide them along a safer route that avoided the creek crossing.
They arrived back at Crawford Ranch just as rain began falling again. Tom Harris hurried out to help them dismount and stable Daisy.
"Was getting worried," he admitted. "Creek's dangerous after storms."
"We discovered that," Claudine replied, explaining their creek adventure.