If the Prospect Pleases Page 8

  “Hey, you two. Wash up for supper,” Lucas ordered, snagging his little girls midstep in their mad dash to the porch. He steered them to the rain barrel and dipped a liberal amount into the basin on the stand beside it. While they soaped their hands, he took a towel and scrubbed the childish faces. Then they scampered off. He splashed some of the cold liquid over his face and neck, dried off, and followed the tantalizing and almost forgotten smell of good cooking into his house.

  He could not believe his eyes. For the first time since Francie’s passing, the place—at least what he could see of it from the doorway—was clean and orderly. The table sported a fresh tablecloth, something he never bothered with. And Miss Nolan had even cut some roses from the scraggly bush outside for the middle of the table.

  “These are my mama’s Sunday dishes,” Melinda said accusingly, as she and her sister climbed onto their chairs. “We’re not supposed to use the Sunday dishes unless there’s company.”

  “Company,” Amy echoed with a decided nod.

  Carrying a serving bowl of stew over from the sideboard, Annora Nolan blanched, making the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her pert nose more distinct.

  Lucas knew only a blind man would fail to see how spent the young woman was when she set the burden down. A twinge of remorse shot through him at the thought of how he’d taken advantage of her. . .dumping the whole sorry mess on those slender shoulders, and after that exhausting journey, yet! He ruffled his older daughter’s hair. “It’s all right, pumpkin. Miss Nolan is company tonight.”

  The explanation seemed to satisfy the girls.

  Noah clomped across the porch and entered then, his face aglow from a vigorous washing. A grin broadened his boyish features, sending a twinkle to his eyes as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’d say you’ve got yourself a job, little lady. I won’t need to be traipsin’ off to town to get a decent meal anymore, with you around.”

  She almost smiled as she set a plate of hot biscuits next to the stew, then turned away.

  “Aren’t you eating?” Lucas asked with a frown.

  “I’ll wait until the family is finished,” she said, casting her gaze to the floor. “I’m only the housekeeper.”

  “Hmph. That might be the way things are done back East,” he replied. “But out here, folks eat together. Set yourself a place.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And don’t call me sir.”

  She caught her bottom lip in her teeth and did as told. After easing to her seat, she bowed her head.

  Lucas stared for a second or two, and warmth climbed his neck. He cleared his throat. “We quit wasting time on grace here. . .but if you’re set on it, we won’t stop you.” He lowered his head but did not close his eyes.

  “Dear Heavenly Father,” she began, “thank You for bringing me safely to Wyoming. We thank You for these provisions and ask Your blessing on them. And thank You that Mr. Brent has given me this chance. Please help me do my best for him. I ask these things in Your Son’s name. Amen.”

  An uncomfortable knot formed in Lucas’s throat. The simple way she talked to the Almighty brought a remembrance of Francie’s intimate friendship with God—one he had shared—and another wave of guilt washed over him. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had prayed. Collecting his thoughts, he ladled stew into his daughters’ bowls and took some himself, savoring every mouthful as he ate. . .but never once meeting those arresting green eyes farther down the table.

  “Mmm. This is real good,” Amy proclaimed.

  Melinda, downing her entire glass of milk in a quick succession of gulps, only nodded.

  Noah, occupying the foot of the table, was already helping himself to seconds. “Best I’ve had in a dog’s age,” he said with a broad grin and reached for a couple more biscuits.

  The delicious meal was already more than Lucas would have expected. But the warm apple pandowdy topped with rich cream earned applause from the little ones. He had to admit, it went perfectly with the fresh coffee in his mug.

  Noting absently that there seemed a bit less conversation during dessert, Lucas chalked it up to the lateness of the hour, or the fact that everyone had been so hungry to start with. But suddenly even the girls stopped chattering. Looking up, he saw their attention was centered on Miss Nolan, sitting straight as a poker, her hands folded in her lap. . .sound asleep.

  “Would you look at that,” Noah murmured. “She’s plumb wore out.”

  Feeling a new onslaught of reproach, Lucas quietly eased his chair back and got up, skirting the table. He swept the new housekeeper up into his arms and carried her to his bedroom, where he laid her gently on the bed and flicked a light blanket over her sleeping form.

  The glow of the lamplight from the other room illuminated that classic, heart-shaped face of hers, now as innocent and trusting as a child’s. Lucas caught himself staring, then shook his head and left the room, closing the door behind him without a sound.

  Annora. He mulled it over in his mind. Suits her. She’d weighed less than a feather in his arms.

  Then, before he let himself get caught up in thoughts he didn’t need to be having, he strode purposely to the kitchen. The least he could do was get the dishes out of the way and dunk the girls in the tub. It would give the little gal from Philadelphia a bit less to wake up to.

  But he couldn’t help smiling at the remembered sight of the fiery young redhead asleep at the table.

  ten

  Annora sensed someone’s presence as she slowly came to consciousness. She raised her lashes to find two sets of solemn blue eyes studying her.

  The children were leaning over on the bed, elbows resting on it, chins cupped in their hands.

  “She’s waking up,” Amy whispered.

  Her big sister nudged her. “She’s already awake, silly. See?”

  With sudden awareness, Annora flew to a sitting position. It was morning! She was in someone’s bed! Worse yet, she had no idea how she had gotten there. Even in her muddled state she absorbed the room’s simple furnishings. . .a plain double bed, a washstand, and an armoire. Her trunk and valise had been set on the floor against one wall. But how had she come to be here?

  “This is our mama’s bed,” Melinda announced.

  “Pa had to sleep outside,” the little one added.

  “In the barn.”

  Trying to process that humiliating information, Annora went back in her mind over the previous evening. The last she could recall, she had just served dessert and was listening to the pleasant chatter between the young sisters about a special new litter of barn kittens. There was a tiny fragment of a dream, however, of being held in someone’s arms. . . She swallowed. “I–I must make breakfast!”

  “Huh-uh,” they chorused, heads wagging slowly back and forth.

  “You’ve already eaten?

  They nodded.

  Annora’s heart sank. The very first day in this household, trying to prove she could take care of all the necessary duties, and she’d overslept! Disgusted with herself, she cast her gaze toward the ceiling, then swung her legs over the side of the mattress and stood. “Well, then, I’ll have to find something else to do, won’t I?” She smiled at the urchins, noticing that even though they were wearing the same clothes as yesterday, they themselves appeared cleaner.

  “You prob’ly have to go to the privy,” Melinda informed her in six-year-old importance.

  “You can use the pot under the bed,” Amy suggested.

  Despite her disquiet, Annora barely stifled a giggle. She was going to like these two. Looking from one to the other, she affirmed their opposite coloring, something she had noticed only subconsciously in the busyness of yesterday. Melinda, the older one, had her father’s olive complexion and brunette hair, whereas four-year-old Amy was fair and golden blond. But they were equally engaging. She smiled at them both, then focused on Melinda. “After I’ve been to the privy, I’ll need to find the washtub and soap so I can start on the laundry.”


  “Come on. I’ll show you.” The dark-haired youngster slid a small hand into Annora’s and began leading her toward the kitchen door. “Pa already filled the big kettle. It’s on the stove.”

  Chagrined, Annora had to be thankful that she wouldn’t be wasting still more of this morning waiting for the water to heat. But how would she ever face Mr. Brent after this blunder? As it was, the very sight of those blue eyes of his sent feelings through her that she had never before experienced. And something about his presence made her knees feel a little weak. But whatever low opinion he must surely have of her now, she would, at the very least, see to it that he and his brother had a decent dinner, come noon.

  Thanks to the helpful little guides, Annora soon found herself up to her elbows in sudsy water. Within a couple hours, the two long clotheslines were filled with newly washed items billowing in the ever-present breeze. The sight was gratifying, as was the amazing speed at which they dried. She even felt better herself, having freshened up in the privacy of the bedroom and changed into a navy cotton skirt and plain white shirtwaist.

  Returning to the kitchen, she raised the towel covering the rising bread to check its progress, then smiled. The loaves would be done for supper. Right now, everyone would have to settle for more biscuits. She gave the big pot of beans and bacon a stir, then removed a double batch of golden biscuits from the oven. With a quick glance at the table, she smiled her approval and went to ring the bell.

  ❧

  Lucas wiped his mouth on the cloth napkin and got up, shoving the chair away with the backs of his knees. “That was one fine meal, Miss Nolan. Thank you.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said softly.

  “That’s puttin’ it mildly,” Noah declared. “I was starved without even knowin’ it!” Snatching one more biscuit from the diminished stack, he pocketed it in his jeans and gave a satisfied nod as he headed outside.

  Noting that his brother had spent the better portion of the meal gawking at the help, Lucas quickly followed after him. He’d better remind the kid that this arrangement was only temporary.

  “Mr. Brent?”

  One foot already over the threshold, Lucas paused and turned, a hand braced on the doorjamb.

  “I–I must apologize,” Annora stammered. “About last night, I mean. Falling asleep, and all.”

  “Happens to the best of us, one time or another,” he said gently. Unable to put out of his mind how young and vulnerable she had appeared when he’d placed her on the bed, he had purposely refrained from looking directly at her during the meal. Now, however, he could no longer avoid it.

  In everyday clothes, her hair brushed and pinned in an intricate coil at the nape of her neck, she seemed more delicate than ever. And who could miss the way the waistband of Francie’s long apron met in the middle of her back, with the ties dangling almost to her ankles? She seemed like a little girl playing at being grown up.

  All the more reason not to saddle her with the endless chores running this house entailed. He really wanted someone older. Someone. . .substantial. But he’d as much as agreed to this trial, so no sense putting a damper on things. She was trying real hard to please. . .and this would only be for a couple weeks. What could happen? He winced. Better have that talk with Noah. Today.

  ❧

  Once the dishes had been taken care of and the kitchen restored to order, Annora retrieved a bar of rose-scented soap from her valise and took the remains of the heated water in the kettle outside near the rain barrel. She knew the men were occupied, and this was a perfect opportunity to tend to another desperately needed chore.

  “What ’cha doin’?”

  Annora smiled at the girls as they gravitated to her from the porch step, where they’d been standing all the extra clothespins in a row. “I need to wash my hair.”

  “In the daytime?” Melinda’s tone indicated the concept was completely unheard of.

  “Well, I got kind of dirty on my long train ride, and this is the first chance I’ve had to wash some of that off.”

  “Oh.”

  Unpinning her chignon, Annora bent over at the waist and poured warm water over her head. Even just that felt wonderful. She had never before gone an extended period without having a chance to bathe properly. Application of the soap made leftover soot from the tiring journey feel like grit under her fingertips, but at least it was coming out.

  “Mama had long hair like yours,” Amy said wistfully.

  “Only it wasn’t red,” Melinda supplied. “It was blond like Amy’s.”

  “You must miss her a lot.” Reaching for the pitcher again, Annora dipped it into the rain barrel, then squeezed her eyes closed as she rinsed with the cool, clean water.

  “Why did God take our mama away?” Melinda asked.

  The poignant question tore at Annora’s heart. She knew exactly how the little ones felt. Wrapping her hair in one of the clean towels, she flipped it behind her back and stooped down to their level. “I’m afraid only God knows that for sure, sweetheart.”

  “Miss Rosemary, in town, says God needed Mama to help Him in Heaven. But we need her, too.”

  Annora wondered who Rosemary was and what her relationship to this little family might be, then decided that the matter would probably become clear during the month ahead. Turning her attention to the children again, she gathered them close. “Well, whatever the Lord’s reasons for taking her, that doesn’t mean He doesn’t still love you. Your mama still loves you, too, and she’ll always be with you in your heart. She probably asked God to send extra angels to watch over you, since she can’t do it herself.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Mm-hm. Know what else?”

  “What?”

  “My mommy and daddy live up there, too. I’ll wager they were real happy to have your mama for their new neighbor. They’ve probably been showing her all around those golden streets and introducing her to Ruth and Jonah and the apostle Paul.”

  Amy’s azure eyes grew soft as she appeared to ponder the thought. Then she brightened. “Wanna come see the new baby kitties in the barn?”

  “Their eyes aren’t open yet,” Melinda added. “They’re so cute.”

  “I’d really like that—if you’ll help me for a little while in the garden afterward.”

  The pair traded glances and nodded.

  ❧

  Grooming Chesapeake in the end stall, Lucas heard the patter of skipping feet approaching. He glanced up at the cheerful threesome—his two little ones and a gal who could easily pass for their older sister. Especially with that red-gold hair of hers loose and splayed over her shoulders. It didn’t seem fair for someone so fragile as she to have so much responsibility laid on her all at once. Obviously she was an efficient worker, but he couldn’t get past the conviction that she should still be at home, helping her own mother or aunt or other relative. Even having some fun.

  He wasn’t purposely trying to hide his presence, but as they clustered around the box of sleeping kittens, they were obviously unaware that he was there. Muted oohs drifted to his ears as they fawned over the tiny creatures. Not wanting to intrude, Lucas kept stroking the brush over the sorrel back.

  “Pa says we can’t pick them up yet,” Melinda said.

  Amy nodded. “It makes Wilhelmina nervous.”

  Miss Nolan had an arm on each of the girls’ shoulders, and she drew them a little closer to herself. “Well, thank you for showing me your special kitties. Wilhelmina doesn’t know who I am yet, though, so I’d better get back to work now.”

  “Didn’t you say we could help?” Melinda asked.

  “If you want to.”

  Watching after them as they exited the barn, Lucas reminded himself to concentrate on what he was doing. But the animal’s reddish hide reminded him of Annora Nolan’s shiny hair. Stifling any further thoughts, he patted the stallion’s muscled neck and put down the brush. This was as good a time as any to talk to Noah.

  He found his brother just outside, loung
ing against the fence, still grasping the hoe he was returning to the shed.

  “She’s some looker, ain’t she?” Noah remarked. “Can’t be more’n two or three years younger than me, either. Maybe I’ll—”

  “No, you won’t. She’s here for that month she talked her way into. No more. You leave her be.”

  A corner of Noah’s mouth rose sardonically. “What I do is my business.”

  “As long as you’re on my place, it’s not.” Lucas wrapped his fingers around the handle of Noah’s hoe, his gaze unrelenting in a silent challenge.

  “We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?” With a snide grimace, the kid jerked the tool free and stalked off toward the shed.

  Lucas released a pent-up breath. Maybe he should rethink this whole matter of her staying, before things got too sticky.

  ❧

  Annora picked up on a subtle tension between the brothers that evening as they ate their ham slices and mashed potatoes in stony silence. Feeling the outsider, she pretended not to notice and did her best to respond to the girls’ remarks whenever necessary. But she was relieved when dessert was over and everyone started to go their separate ways.

  She snagged her employer again as he was about to leave the house. “Mr. Brent?”

  He glanced over his shoulder, then turned to face her.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she began. “About the sleeping arrangements.”

  “We’ll just keep them as they are, for now.”

  “But that’s not necessary, really. I shouldn’t be putting you out of your own bed. Your daughters need you to be near if they wake up in the middle of the night.”

  “So what are you suggesting? The barn, maybe? Noah sleeps in the loft.”