The Brides of Chance Collection Part 44

"My home is here now, and so is yours. You should have a few special things in your cabin." Miriam always knew just what to say to put her at ease.

Delilah looked at Paul. "Thank you for letting them whitewash the cabin. I hope you like it, too, so it won't bother you when I leave."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean, when you leave? That's your cabin now."

"Yeah! We can always build another one." Logan's frown matched his older brother's.

Sorry to have ruined everyone's good time, Delilah tried to backtrack. "Oh, I'm sure you can. But I can't stay here forever. Things will change sooner or later, you know. But I do love it here."

Paul smiled again. "Good, because this week I'll teach you to drive a buckboard. I know it's not exactly a present-"

"Every day here is something I enjoy," Delilah interjected. "And you know I want to learn, so you'll be giving me a new skill. I look forward to it."

Daniel returned, and Gideon began an evening devotional before they all turned in for the night. Delilah brought her new pet into her cabin.

"You'll sleep right here where I can see you." Delilah crossed her arms after pus.h.i.+ng the crate right next to her bed.

Shortstack opened her tiny mouth in a feline yawn and kneaded the blanket as she settled in. Delilah smiled and hopped into bed. Tomorrow she planned to paint that sketch she'd drawn today. It couldn't be a grand gesture, but she wanted to give something back to these warmhearted people who'd given her so much.

"Well, at least you don't spoil her," Paul teased Delilah as she set down a saucer of cream on the stoop for Shortstack's breakfast.

"That's what Bryce told me to give her." Delilah grabbed the watering can while the kitten daintily lapped her breakfast.

"Calm down. I think she likes you, too." He watched as Shortstack finished her breakfast and brushed up against Delilah's skirts, trying to twine around her ankles.

"I never knew I could become so fond of something so fast." She smiled as the kitten gave a slightly unsteady hop off the threshold.

Paul waited until Delilah looked at him again to reply. He met her gaze. "I know exactly what you mean." He saw his remark sunk home when she blushed and turned her attention to the watering can, practically flooding a tiny sprout before regaining her composure and moving on.

I can't wait until I give her our first driving lesson.

Later that morning, Paul finished inspecting all the tack and tending to the leather, then went to find Delilah. Garbed in some sort of stained smock, she stood in a patch of sunlight beside the barn, the tip of her tongue between her lips as she concentrated. A speck of green paint dotted her nose, while some stray curls escaped her loose bun to wave in the slight breeze. Paul had never seen a woman look more beautiful.

He just stood there, watching, hesitant to startle her for fear it would ruin her work. Shortstack gave him away, ambling toward him and attracting Delilah's attention with a mewling cry.

Self-consciously, she lifted a hand to smooth her hair, only to stop when she saw her colorful fingertips.

"Hi," Paul said softly.

"Hi." She waved her brush toward the picture. "If you wait for a minute, you can be the first to see it."

More than happy she hadn't sent him away, Paul plunked down to play with Shortstack while she finished.

A few moments later, she stepped back with a satisfied sigh. "I'm done."

Paul got to his feet and strode to where she stood, very aware of her anxious gaze upon his face as he scrutinized the piece.

What he saw almost rivaled its creator in loveliness. "Amazing. It's as though I'm sitting with you on that very same hill!"

A smile spread across her face. "Good. That's just what I wanted-something so the Chance family would remember yesterday for as long as I will." She looked away shyly and confessed, "I'm hoping everyone will want to hang it in the parlor."

"You've got my vote. It's plain to see how talented you are."

"Well, it's about time I wash up and go help with lunch." She picked up the watercolor and headed toward her cabin. Paul noticed her slower pace as Shortstack gamboled along beside her.

Paul stifled a groan when he spotted the all-too-familiar cloud of dust on the horizon just before lunch. This time, instead of trying to dissuade the stubborn clan from coming in, he'd just go inside and let the women know who was coming.

At least this visit from the MacPhersons had one thing in its favor-they wouldn't be trying to woo his woman but rather be soliciting her expert a.s.sistance in courting other brides. Come to think of it, the sooner they wrote those letters, the quicker they wouldn't have any reason to barge onto Chance Ranch whenever the mood struck them.

Paul's good humor lasted through lunch and right up until Delilah and the MacPhersons huddled at the table-alone.

"All right, what do you have for me so far?" Delilah eyed the trio of brothers with some misgivings.

Micah reached into his s.h.i.+rt pocket and drew out some grubby paper. He smoothed it on the table and wordlessly slid it toward her.

Delilah looked in consternation at the few words penned across the sheet.

"But these are just their names and where to send it."

Micah jabbed it with a finger. "Naw, it ain't. That there's the name of their aunt."

Obie nodded eagerly. "Figgered we oughta pa.s.s along our respects an' all."

"That's a wonderful idea. It can't hurt to be on good terms with their family." Delilah desperately tried to think of a way to coax more information out of the would-be swains without discouraging them.

"They's sweet li'l thangs. We done tole Mike to write that down." Obie peered at the paper as though he'd suddenly be able to read.

"Oh yes. I see it here, along with *nice-sounding voices.' Um, I believe I heard you mention something about how they look?" she prodded.

"Yep. Hair redder'n a rooster's comb," Hezzy complimented.

Red hair, Delilah made a note, omitting the comparison to a rooster. "And you said something about their eyes...."

Obie and Hezzy stared fixedly at the tabletop, so Delilah took a deep breath and pressed on. "I seem to remember you said they were s.h.i.+ny?"

Obie brightened and jabbed a thumb toward Hezzy. "Yep. He said as how they's jist as s.h.i.+ny as a mud puddle."

Delilah bit back a laugh at the extravagant praise. "Hmmm...might I suggest something a bit more romantic?"

Hezzy frowned in concentration, then broke into a self-satisfied grin. "Sure. How 'bout eyes jist as s.h.i.+ny as a mud puddle...." He paused to slant a triumphant look at Mike. "In the moonlight."

"Why, Hezzy, that's almost like po'try!" Obie slapped his brother's shoulder.

"Some things just don't sound the same on paper." Delilah diplomatically rejected the entire mud-puddle comparison. "How about *browner than...' " She paused to think, belatedly realizing her mistake when they began offering suggestions.

"Dirt?" Obie supplied.

"Aw, ya don' say she's like dirt." Hezzy spared Delilah having to reject that pearl. "How 'bout bark?"

Her relief faded like a curtain left too long in the sun. "You know, there are different kinds of bark, so maybe you want to be more specific."

"A chaw o' tobaccy?"

"A tater?" Soon the suggestions were flying through the air so fast, Delilah didn't even have to comment.

"Boot leather?"

"Mola.s.ses?"

"Fresh coffee?"

"Oh, that's a good un, Obie," Hezzy approved. "But ladies don' always like coffee like we'uns. How 'bout *the wings of a June bug'?"

With dismay, Delilah realized all three thought this a.n.a.logy had merit. "Well, I don't know. I don't much like insects, myself."

Mike spoke up for the first time. "How 'bout brown as a fawn's coat?"

"Wonderful," Delilah praised, writing it down and moving on before they could suggest anything else. "And I understand you wrote something to Temperance, Mike?"

"All done with that."

"So they're sweet, with nice voices, red hair, brown eyes, and an aunt we'll need to win over. Is there anything else I'm missing?" She clearly needed to end this session before they backed her into a corner with their woeful wooing.

Hezzy spoke up. "They cook a right fine meal."

"And they's good gals. Not loose or...or anythin'." Obie wouldn't meet Delilah's eyes.

"G.o.d-fearin' folk," Hezzy affirmed.

"And I've already explained to Tempy about our spread and what's waitin fer 'em," Mike a.s.sured her.

"Well, gentleman, I'll write this up and show you a draft next Sunday." She rose from the table, and the brothers followed suit.

"Much obliged," Mike said.

As the brothers made their way out of the cabin, Delilah paused to wonder whether any man would ever write her a romantic letter.

Chapter 13.

As most of the town headed back home after church that Sunday, the MacPhersons and Whites lingered at Chance Ranch.

Delilah looked at the three expectant faces before her, and the enormity of the situation sank in like never before. So much hinged on her writing-the dreams of Obie and Hezzy, the futures of Eunice and Lois-her throat went dry. Obie hunkered down to rub Shortstack's tummy as the kitten purred happily.

"I tried to mention everything you shared with me," she began, "so I'll just read it to you, and we'll see if you'd like to change any of it: Dear Miss Eunice and Miss Lois Trevor, I, Delilah Chadwick, am writing this letter on behalf of my neighbors, Obadiah and Hezekiah MacPherson, who pray you are well. These upstanding brothers hold you in high regard and speak fondly of you both.

They describe your hair as rivaling a blazing sunset and admire your eyes as being as soft and brown as a fawn's spring coat. They tell me you are good, G.o.d-fearing women who will come alongside their men to make a home for their families.

They hope you remember the time they visited your home to purchase their hunting dog and ask you to pa.s.s along their compliments to your aunt and uncle for raising two such fine young women.

If you are agreeable and not already spoken for, the Misters MacPherson will send fare for your journey to their spread as their intended brides.

We send this in the care of Miss Temperance Spencer, whose hand Micah MacPherson has requested. They earnestly hope she will be your companion as you travel to Reliable, California.

Sincerely yours,

Obie and Hezzy MacPherson

"Whooeee, if that don't turn they heads, sure as shootin' nothin' will." Hezzy clapped Obie on the shoulder. "We's gonna have us some brides, Brother!"

"Yep. That sounded so fine, I reckon if 'n I got it, I'd marry us." Obie beamed at Delilah.

"How soon can we send it?" Mike got straight down to business.

"Oh, I'll take it back to town with me this evening, seal it, and send it out with the next batch of post." Reba White walked over. "So you boys are fixin' to get hitched, eh?"

"Yes'm," Obie and Hezzy chorused.

"All right. I'll let you know just as soon as they write back." Reba took the envelope from Delilah as they all exchanged good-byes.

"So we'll be seeing you on Thursday?" Delilah asked, knowing Miriam had invited the older woman over for a girls' sewing day.

"It's amazing how mending can pile up." Reba laughed ruefully. "And I've even got a quilt that's only half-finished. It'll do me good to spend a day in the company of women."

"All right, now this is just a first lesson, so no need to be nervous." Finally, they were alone. Paul caught Delilah glancing from the reins to the horse and back again.

"Just the same, maybe we ought to wait until your arm is a bit better-in case..." Her voice faded as she looked at him pleadingly.

"Any woman who can wield a knife and shoot like you can has no need to fear driving," he consoled. "Besides, you already know how to handle a horse when you ride."

"That's because I can get the feel of the animal. I can touch him or use my voice to calm him down if he gets excited or frightened. I know that an animal that doesn't know you won't trust you. They sense when the person guiding them is hesitant or doubtful."

"Speck is my horse. I trained him up from a colt-that's why he pulls the wagon, too. We understand each other, so he won't give us any trouble."