The Rancher's Wife. Lynda Trent

be good for Mary Kate to get out in the fresh air. Children need sunshine, too.”

      Cal only glanced at him and tossed the horse brush into the box by the tack door. He reached through the doorway and got a lead rope.

      “I’m doing it for Mary Kate, not Elizabeth.”

      Cal took a long time looping the lead neatly in his left hand. “I thought her name was Mrs. Parkins.”

      “That’s what I said. Mrs. Parkins.”

      One of Cal’s rare grins spread across his wrinkled, weathered face as he sauntered back to the stall.

      Brice tugged the strap through the concho and this time it threaded straight. “You talk too much, Cal I’ve noticed that about you before.” He grinned at the man.

      Cal only granted. He snapped the lead. onto the pregnant mare’s halter and led her out of the barn to the feedlot to graze on hay he’d spread there earlier.

      Brice picked up the other end of the strap and started working it through the other side of the harness. He heard footsteps behind him and said without turning, “She’s pretty. Did you notice that, Cal?”

      “Who is?” Elizabeth asked as she looked around. “Are you talking to me?”

      Brice jerked his head around. “I thought you were Cal.” Politely he got to his feet and nodded a greeting.

      “He’s turning a horse out into the feedlot.”

      “I was saying the bay mare I bought to pull this buggy is pretty,” Brice improvised. He noticed Elizabeth was small, several inches shorter than Celia had been. In the dim light of the barn her hair was as black as a crow’s wing. Unlike what he had remembered, her eyes weren’t dark also, but gray. A silvery color like storm clouds. “The harness strap was in bad shape and I thought I’d better repair it before the buggy is needed.”

      “You really have a buggy?” she asked.

      “It’s right over there.”

      She went in the direction he nodded and found the buggy in the area behind the stalls. “It’s beautiful! And the lamp is brass!”

      He smiled. It was good to do something for someone who noticed an effort had been made. “It didn’t look that good when I bought it. There’s been some elbow grease put on it, I have to admit.” He had polished the lamp to a brilliant shine rather than return to the house and Celia’s constant complaining.

      “I haven’t ridden in a buggy in so long!” Her voice was filled with wonder. “I hadn’t thought I ever would again.”

      “Where’s the baby?”

      “Asleep. She took a whole bottle of milk and fell asleep while I rocked her. I came out to thank you again for bringing me here. I already love her. You’re a very lucky man.”

      Until today he would have argued that there was no truth in her last statement, but things had already changed. “She’s a good baby. I don’t think she’ll give you much trouble.”

      Elizabeth came back to him and touched the harness. “Do you take the buggy out often?”

      “It hasn’t been used since I brought it home. I thought Celia might like to use it but by then she wasn’t well. I got it for her.”

      “How thoughtful of you.” She looked at him in surprise.

      

      “Once the weather is warmer, you and Mary Kate might like to take it for outings.”

      “Thank you. That would be nice.” She went to the stall and looked at the horse inside. “I’ve always loved horses. We had one almost this color back in Hannibal.”

      “You and your husband, you mean?” It would do him good to remember she was married.

      “No, my father.”

      “Do you like it out here?” he asked.

      “No, I don’t. Life is too liand here.” She was thinking of the privations in the sod hut and Robert’s abandonment. “I intend to go back to Missouri eventually.” She touched the horse’s velvety nose.

      He hadn’t expected this answer. Elizabeth was so independent he had thought she would love the freedom of the frontier. “if I hear of a train returning east, I’ll let you know,” he said stiffly.

      “Thank you. I won’t be able to afford it for quite a while. And then there’s Robert—wherever he is.”

      “You shouldn’t worry too much about your husband. There are a lot of things that can hold a man up out here. It could be his horse went lame and can’t travel.” It was the only excuse Brice could think of. Even that didn’t hold water. If he were Robert and had a wife, especially one like Elizabeth, waiting for him out in the hills, he would buy another horse or walk home before he would leave her stranded for so long.

      “Robert can take care of himself. He always does.” She glanced up at him as if afraid she had given too much away. “I should be getting back to the house. I don’t want Mary Kate to wake up and be alone.”

      He watched her go to the barn door. At the entrance she turned.

      “Would you like a ham for supper?”

      

      “That would be great.”

      “How many do I cook for?”

      “Just me. The men eat in the bunlehouse.” He was looking forward to not eating with them. Ezra Smart might be all right at trail cooking, but a man could tire of beans and beef after a while. Brice had liked Consuela’s cooking well enough but she put red peppers in everything, and after a while that grew tedious as well.

      “I’ll have it ready just after sundown.” She gave him a smile and stepped out of sight.

      Brice stood staring after her. She even knew to time meals to the hours a man could work! Celia had insisted on dinner at six o’clock year-round because that was the time her parents had always eaten. She hadn’t even tried to understand that some days he had to work for as long as there was daylight. Ham. His mouth watered just thinking about it.

      “You look like somebody whopped you in the head with a poleax,” Cal commented as he strolled back into the barn. He went to the gray gelding’s stall and opened the gate.

      “She just came out to say the baby is sleeping,” Brice said defensively.

      “Is she going to keep you posted every time that girl nods off?” Cal hooked the lead to the gray’s halter and led him to the tack mom.

      “Of course not.” Brice went back to working on the harness. “She’s cooking ham for supper.”

      Cal grunted. It was a customary sign of his approval.

      “You want me to ask her to set an extra plate? You know you’re welcome at my table anytime.”

      This time the man’s grunt had an edge of humor.

      “Celia isn’t there now and her opinions don’t matter anymore. You’re my foreman and my friend. If you want to eat in the house with us, it’s fine with me.” He was thinking that might be safest. If Cal was there he wouldn’t be alone with Elizabeth. “I’ll tell her to set you a place.”

      “Nope. Rather have beans.”

      Brice shook his head. “You’re an odd one, Cal. How you can eat Ezra’s food every night is a mystery to me.”

      “He ain’t fussy.”

      Brice knew Cal would never forget or forgive Celia for driving him out of the house, even if she was dead and buried now. It was still her dining room as far as Cal was concerned and he had vowed not to set foot in it again. Celia had been too picky about most things. A man couldn’t work around cattle and horses all day and not