Chapter 6
Chapter Six
The sun was high overhead when Zach rode toward home.
No doubt, some of the cowboys would be putting his early departure down to laziness or an inability to cope.
It was neither. He was only checking on his pa.
That was Gil’s job. However, it wasn’t Gil he trusted to be watching out for his father.
It was Amelia, and that knowledge had him all tangled up inside.
He’d told himself he didn’t have time for courting and didn’t need any more complications in his life, yet here he was thinking life had improved with her arrival.
He had to be mistaken in that thought and meant to prove it. That—and only that—provided the reason for him riding home at noon.
Dismounting, he led his horse into the barn to unsaddle him.
He stiffened at a strange sound and tilted his head to locate the source.
A figure huddled in the far corner. Gil.
Drunk again. He strode down the alley. Only it wasn’t Gil.
Kat sat with her head pressed to drawn-up knees.
The sounds were sobs, though she’d undoubtedly deny it. He hadn’t seen her cry since Ma died.
He stopped. “Kat.”
“Go away.”
He sat beside her.
“Go away,” she mumbled.
“Can’t.”
“You got a broken leg or something?” She did her best to sound confrontational and hard, but fell short.
“Nothing broke. But I can’t leave my little sister alone when I see that she is upset about something. Care to tell me what it is?”
She sniffed, lifted her head, and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I don’t.”
“I can wait.”
“Sometimes you’re a pain in the neck.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been called worse. So what happened? Did Amelia do something to upset you?” Why did he hope Kat would say yes? And at the same time, he hoped she didn’t.
“She made boiled raisin cake.”
The words were so full of disgust that Zach wanted to laugh.
“How’d she know that was my favorite? Yours too? She said maybe it would give me memories of Ma’s love.” Kat snorted. “Like I need more.” She lowered her face to her knees.
Zach rubbed her back. “Kat, we will never forget Ma. How could we?”
“Pa does.”
“Sometimes, yes. But I don’t think we want to be like that.”
She shrugged. Her shoulders quivered.
Zach had tried to comfort her before. Each time, she’d shaken him off or just run. But maybe he could risk it again. He pulled her into his arms, and she relaxed as he rubbed her back.
“Why’d Ma have to die and Pa forget who he is?”
“I could as easily answer that as I could answer why it doesn’t rain. We have to trust God.”
“Don’t see why we should.”
Zach fought a similar battle. “I thought the same, but the alternative is to think we are lost in a great big sea without rudder, without pilot, and without hope.”
Kat shuddered. “Maybe we are.”
“I don’t believe that, and neither do you.”
She didn’t argue, which meant she grudgingly agreed.
Zach held her a minute longer. His stomach growled. “Boiled raisin cake, you say? Did it smell enjoyable?”
“The aroma pulled me to the house.”
“Let’s go see if it tastes as good as it smells.” He rose and hauled her to her feet.
“Won’t taste as good as Ma’s.”
“Guess it won’t.”
“You know what Amelia said? She said she didn’t expect it would because Ma’s was full of love for us.” Her voice squeaked at the end.
Zach’s throat tightened. Good thing he didn’t need to say anything.
They stepped into the house. The cake did indeed smell wonderful. He knew how she’d known to make that flavor. No doubt, whoever wrote those letters had informed her. He tried to think who would know so much about him. Pa, for sure, but Pa couldn’t have written them.
Gil maybe, but Gil could barely write his name.
Amelia turned at their entrance, and Zach forgot musing about the letter writer.
She had a bit of flour on her cheek and what appeared to be a spot of molasses on her apron. She wouldn’t know it, of course, but he’d often come into the house and seen Ma the same way.
Amelia smiled. “I didn’t expect you back so early.”
It wasn’t quite the greeting Ma would have given, but it sure felt pleasant.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
She laughed. “Why should I? It’s your house.”
Pa and Poppy sat at the table. Crumbs before them indicated Amelia had given them something to tide them over until dinner. “Where’s Gil?”
She glanced toward the bunkhouse. “I haven’t seen him since breakfast.”
Zach groaned. “I better go check on him.” He trotted across the yard and up the wooden steps into the bunkhouse. The place reeked of liquor, and Gil lay on his bed, his arm across his eyes.
Zach shook the man. “You’ve been drinking again.”
“Only had a mouthful.” The slurred words said otherwise.
A bottle lay beside Gil. Zach shook it. Empty. “Gil, you need to stop drinking.” He left the man, knowing he would take a few hours to sober up.
What was he going to do about him? Once Amelia left, Gil would be needed to cook and look after Pa. Trouble was, Gil wasn’t to be counted on.
Zach left the bunkhouse, drawn back to the kitchen by the smell of a cake full of raisins and molasses. He couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into it.
The table was set, a plate piled high with biscuits in the middle. Around it were various other offerings—fried potatoes, bacon, a salad of grated carrots and raisins—another of Zach’s favorites. His mouth watered. Gil knew how to cook, but his usual fare of late was baked beans for dinner.
Zach sat down. He glanced at Pa, but Pa was smiling at Poppy. Zach didn’t think he was ready to ask the blessing, so he bowed his head and offered up a quick prayer. The meal was delicious, and he said so. But he longed to try the cake.
After the meal, Amelia cut generous slices and gave one to each of them.
Zach savored his first bite. “Just like Ma used to make.”
Kat pushed aside her piece. “Don’t think I want any.”
But when Zach reached to take her plate, she slid it out of his way. “Might have it later.”
Zach chuckled. “You’ll enjoy it.”
Kat scowled, being stubborn out of principle or a mistaken belief she’d do their ma a disservice if she admitted the cake was as tasty as Ma’s. Which it was.
“Thanks,” he said to Amelia, then headed outside to tend to the chores.
Thanks to the lack of rain, the haystack next to the barn was meager compared to previous years.
It wouldn’t be enough to feed the horses through the winter.
The usual hay meadow hadn’t grown back, so there’d be no second cut there.
But if the drought affected that place, perhaps it had also dried up the marsh.
Hopeful, he saddled his horse and, before he swung into the saddle, turned his attention toward the house. He saw no sign of Amelia or Pa. Nor of Gil and Kat. Amelia could manage, couldn’t she? Pa was in better hands than Gil’s. Or even Kat, who tended to forget about Pa.
More confident than he’d been in a long time, Zach rode from the yard.
Dust followed every step the horse took.
Grass seeds hung in the air. He rode down the slope and entered a grove where the air was cooler.
Birds chattered in the trees. Half an hour later, he dipped down to the marshy area.
Dismounting, he traipsed into the dark-green reedy grass.
The ground was rough, little clumps of dirt that shifted beneath his feet.
But it was dry except for a bit of mud in the middle where ducks and mud hens protested his intrusion.
Slough grass wasn’t the best in way of feed, but it would do. He’d send a couple of the cowboys to cut it and, once dry, bring it home. They’d complain that they weren’t farmers and shouldn’t have to do farm chores, but they would do as ordered.
To check for any dangerous spots, he circled the area. He stalled. A slow smile curved his lips. Wild tiger lilies, as orange as a bright sunset, but with purple freckles. He’d forgotten the flowers grew here… a place Pa used to take Ma to visit so she could enjoy their sweet fragrance.
Would Amelia enjoy the beauty? Laughing, he acknowledged she would. He’d bring her here. Her and Poppy. He’d relish sharing this place with them.
Smiling at his plans, he rode home.
The aroma of stew reached him as he entered the yard. Gil’s cooking or Amelia’s? Not that it mattered. Not really. The only difference was that he could count on Amelia. Not so much on Gil.
The table was set, waiting for his arrival. Amelia stood at the stove, her cheeks warm from the heat. Green eyes flashed bright. “Welcome home.” Her smile welcomed him more than her words.
Pa sat at his place, eager for the meal.
Gil stepped through the door, carrying two pails of water and looking sober.
Poppy saw Zach, dropped from her chair, and rushed to him, holding out her hands to be lifted. “Mis’er, hello.”
When he scooped her up, chubby little hands patted his cheeks.
“How about you call me Uncle Zach, if that’s all right with your mama.”
Amelia’s eyes narrowed as she considered her answer. Then she nodded. “Uncle Zach is fine.”
“You Unca Zach?” Poppy asked.
“I guess I am.” Although the name lacked a certain something he couldn’t identify.
“Supper is ready as soon as Kat comes in.”
“Kat? I’ll call her. Where is she?”
Amelia stirred the contents of a pot and spoke over her shoulder. “I saw her go into the barn earlier in the afternoon. She took a slice of raisin cake with her.” She lifted the lid on a second pot, then returned the lid. “I haven’t seen her since.”
“I’ll get her. Poppy, you stay with Gampa.
” He put the child back on her chair. His boots clacked on the floor as he left the house.
He hadn’t noticed Kat when he tended his horse.
But then, if he wasn’t looking for her, she could’ve been sitting nearby, silent and watchful, and he’d have missed her.
Inside the dusky barn, he called. “Kat, supper’s ready.”
No reply. No rustling. Was she ignoring him?
He went down the alley, checking each pen, looking into the tack room.
No sign of Kat.
Leaving the building, he studied his surroundings. The mustang snorted at Zach’s presence.
“One of these days, big fella, I am going to ride you.”
The horse tossed his head as if mocking those words.
Zach swept his gaze over the nearby pens, the fences, and the trees. He jolted and returned his attention to the horse pen. He counted them. Twice. Not that he needed to. The horse Kat favored was missing.
His grunt was more of a growl. Where had she gone? When would she be back? She was so irresponsible. Always running off when she could be helping around the place. The garden needed to be weeded. She could help with cooking. For sure, she could watch Pa and help with Poppy.
Frustration thumping with every step, he reentered the house.
Amelia glanced past him. “Kat’s coming?”
“When she feels like it. She’s ridden off somewhere.” His words burned across his lips. “She’s so irresponsible.” Realizing Pa and Poppy were frightened by his vehemence, he forced himself to stop. Sucked in a calming breath. “She’ll be back when she’s good and ready. We might as well eat.”
Amelia studied Zach. “Is she—” She shifted her gaze to Pa and shrugged.
Zach knew what she meant. Was she safe? Did she know what she was doing? Safe enough. But no, she didn’t know what she was doing.
They ate in silence.
Gil opened his mouth several times as if he wanted to say something. Each time, he shook his head and turned back to his food.
Zach found it difficult to swallow the savory stew. When would his life get easier? And no, he didn’t want the answer to be never.
Pa cleared his throat, bringing attention to him. “‘Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.’” He nodded his head and then resumed eating.
Did he know he’d quoted a Bible verse? Did he think it was appropriate for the situation? Had he guessed at Zach’s frustration? He patted Pa’s hand. “Thanks for that reminder.”
Poppy patted Pa’s hand, too. “Gampa good man.”
The humor of the situation hit Zach, and he chuckled.
Amelia’s soft laughter joined his. Their gazes caught across the table, and their shared amusement shortened the distance until it felt as if they touched.
He jerked his attention back to his food and his thoughts back to rational.
Gil managed to get his words out. “Ain’t you the least bit worried about Kat? It ain’t like her to miss a meal.”
“True. That’s why I’m not worried. She’ll be back when her stomach reminds her of the time.” No point in letting his sister’s irresponsible behavior ruin his meal. But by the time he’d scraped his plate clean, concern gnawed at him.
Gil gathered up the dishes and carried them to the dishpan. The window over the work area allowed him a view of the barn. “Kat’s horse is back.”
Relief sighed from Zach’s lungs.
“That’s welcome news.” Amelia crowded to Gil’s side to watch from the window.
Zach joined them as they waited for Kat to make her appearance. After several minutes, he stepped back. “I’m going to see what’s keeping her.” He strode to the barn. “Kat, come on. We’ve already eaten, and your horse is waiting to be unsaddled.”
Again, no answer. No rustling. Not even an indrawn breath.
He again went up and down the alley, looked into each pen, and the tack room.
Kat wasn’t there.
There was only one answer. She’d encountered trouble. Either the horse had run off and left her on foot. Or worse. She’d been hurt and unable to ride back.
He ran to the house. “Gil, take care of Kat’s horse. She’s not out there. I’m going looking for her.” Without waiting for Gil’s acknowledgment or answering the question in Amelia’s eyes, he raced to the barn, saddled his best horse, and rode from the yard.
His sister could have gone in any number of directions, but just as he did when searching for Pa, he worked his way from one area to another, going further afield because she was on horseback. Daylight was almost gone. If she was injured—
He must find her before it got too dark to see. And if she wasn’t able to call out—
He couldn’t finish the thought.