The Courtship Of Izzy Mccree. Ruth Langan

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ not going to hit you, Aaron.” The thought was absurd. It had been years since he’d even had to reprimand this boy. “But tell me, son. What in the world made you write that letter?”

      Aaron shrugged. “It was Christmastime. The younger ones were missing Ma. I got to thinking if they could get a new ma, maybe things wouldn’t seem so…bad around here.”

      Matt absorbed the pain. Would it ever end? Would he ever be able to hear them speak of her without feeling this terrible emptiness?

      “Why Pennsylvania?”

      “I read about it in that paper you brought from Sutton’s Station. It said the minister of the First Pennsylvania Congregation led a prayer for the soldiers heading to California. So I just wrote the letter, and the next time we went to town I left it with Boone.”

      “You couldn’t bring yourself to tell me?”

      Aaron looked away. “No, sir.”

      “I know I’ve been pretty tough to live with. I guess…” Matt hesitated, then plunged into uncharted territory. “I guess we haven’t talked much about men and women.”

      Aaron flushed clear to the tips of his ears. “I’ve seen the farm animals. I know enough.”

      “Then you ought to know that men and women like to know each other, and feel some…sweetening toward each other, before they get married.”

      “Sweetening?”

      “Something that’ll attract them, like bees to honey.”

      “I know that.” The boy’s Adam’s apple rose and fell as he swallowed hard. “But how’re you ever going to meet a lady out here and feel any…sweetening?”

      It was his father’s turn to flush. “So you thought the solution would be to send for a stranger?”

      “Pa, do you remember the time the mother duck got killed by a coyote? We gave the ducklings to one of our hens, and she raised them like her own.”

      Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying any mother’s better than none?”

      “I guess that’s what I’m saying.”

      “Then I’ll remind you what a poor substitute that hen was. She stood squawking on the banks of the river every time those ducklings started swimming. And when they joined a flock of geese and flew off in the fall, she took to her nest in mourning.”

      The boy nodded. “But you have to admit, she took good care of those babies until they could take care of themselves, Pa.”

      Matt nodded reluctantly. “Yes, she did.”

      “They’d have died without her mothering.”

      The two fell silent for long minutes. Finally Matt cleared his throat. “We’re not talking about ducks and chicks now, Aaron.”

      “No, sir. But Miss McCree seems nice enough.”

      “I guess she is. But she’s a city woman. What does she know about surviving a winter in the wilderness?”

      Aaron shrugged again. “Not much, I’d wager. But we’d be here to help her.”

      When his father said nothing more, he looked up, studying him carefully. For the first time he felt a flicker of hope. “You thinking of asking her to stay?”

      “I might be.” Matt’s eyes were hidden in shadow. But the lingering pain was still in his voice. “After all, I was outvoted. And there’s the money. It’s going to cost more than I have to send her home. It doesn’t seem fair to ask her to work in town until she’s saved enough.” At least those were the arguments he was willing to admit to. But the truth was, that damnable letter had changed everything. It wasn’t that he wanted a wife, he told himself. But Aaron was right. They needed a woman around the place. And Del needed a mother. And now, right this minute, his back was to the wall.

      He indicated the blanket he’d tossed on the straw. “You go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll be back in a while.”

      “Yes, Pa. And, Pa?”

      Matt opened the door, then turned.

      Across the barn, his son looked suddenly young and scared, with the blanket draped around his shoulders, his eyes wide in the lantern light. “You might want to try asking Miss McCree, instead of making it sound like a command. You know, like honey instead of a stick.”

      Matt nodded. “Thanks, son. I’ll keep that in mind.”

      

      Izzy looked around the bedroom, which was as filthy as the rest of the cabin. Some of Matthew’s clothes hung on pegs along one wall. A couple of shirts. Some pants. The rest had been dropped on the floor. A parka made of some kind of animal fur. Boots, one near the door, the other clear across the room. As though he’d tossed them, or more than likely kicked them, in a fit of temper.

      There was a dust-covered dresser, with drawers that had fancy knobs. Above the dresser was an oval mirror, cracked down the middle. She turned away, not wanting to look at herself.

      She thought about tidying up the room, but the truth was, she was exhausted. And she still had to wash her clothes in preparation for the difficult journey ahead, since these were the only clothes she owned.

      She pulled a very small, very sharp knife from its sheath beneath her sash and hid it under her pillow. Then she sat down tentatively on the edge of the bed. The mattress was rough and scratchy. And lumpy. She wasn’t surprised. It suited this place. With slow, tired movements she untied her new shoes and set them carefully aside. At once her feet began to throb and she had to wiggle her toes for long minutes before she could stand. Then she stripped off her gown and petticoats and peeled off her heavy cotton stockings. Finally she slipped out of her chemise and stood shivering until she was able to pull on her night shift.

      Carrying all her clothes to the other room, she dropped them into the basin and filled it with hot water. Quickly, efficiently, she scrubbed her clothes, then draped them over the rough kitchen chairs to dry. That done, she added another log to the fire and made her way to the bedroom.

      The bed looked sturdy enough, having been carved from rough logs. And at least, she thought, the chickens hadn’t invaded this space.

      She blew out the lantern, then climbed into bed.

      She wished she’d been able to do more work before giving up, but the truth was, she was utterly exhausted. And she was facing a long, arduous journey in the morning.

      Hugging the blanket to her chin, she huddled into a little ball and fell asleep.

      

      Matt let himself into the still, silent cabin, then breathed deeply. It smelled different. It smelled…clean. Surprised, he stared around. Though it was by no means spotless, it was cleaner than he’d seen it in a year. Much of the rubble had been swept up, and the rest lay in piles along one wall. The indignities left by the chickens had been cleaned up, as well.

      By the light of the fire, the filmy, feminine clothes draped over the chairs СКАЧАТЬ