How often had Chet leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms over his massive chest with satisfaction? “Finest barn in the whole territory.”
Jace let the shovel rest on the side of the hand wagon and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. A fleeting grin tugged at his lips. He would tease Chet. “You’ve toured the area to make sure your barn is the best?” Or he’d chuckle and say, “’Course it’s about the only one this side of Golden Valley.”
Chet deserved more than dying in the flames of his own barn.
Jace’s boot thunked against the cart’s nearest wheel as he kicked it to express his rage.
The hand wagon was full. He pushed it to the side hill where they dumped ashes and tipped it, letting the debris slide out.
Leaving the wagon there, he strode to the pump to wash the grime from his skin. He stood in the afternoon sunshine as water dripped from him. He stared at the ruins. Expelled a loud breath and shifted his attention to the house. The sun dried his skin and began to warm him.
Dianne—Mrs. White. He would think of her as that. Made it easier not to care. She was industrious and stubborn. She could manage on her own. Already, she’d proven her worth as a cook. And?—
No point in thinking what else she might think she could prove.
He’d forgotten he meant to move into the bunkhouse and crossed the yard in long strides that shortened and slowed the closer he got to the house. It would have been Chet’s dream come true to watch Eddie playing with Skip and Dianne bustling around the kitchen.
“No disrespect to Mae,” he’d say in his booming voice, “but Ialways pictured a pretty young thing at the stove or hanging laundry.” He’d get a faraway look in his eyes. Then they’d snap back at Jace. “Ain’t it about time you set to courting?”
“Only woman around here besides Mae is that cross-eyed daughter of the traveling salesman.” That got a chuckle from Chet.
Jace jumped up the steps and threw open the door.
Dianne looked up from working at the stove. A smile crinkled her eyes. “Nice to see you looking happy.”
“I was thinking of Chet.” He grabbed two cookies from the jar at her elbow. “He appreciated Mae but had always hoped to see someone young and pretty in his kitchen.” His grin widened. “Mae was as wide as she was high and pulled her thin hair back into a bun.”
“She took care of you.”
“No need to scold. We appreciated her.” He braced a hip to the nearby work surface.
“Why are you staring?”
“Chet would approve of you.” Young and pretty. Capable in the kitchen. Jace straightened. “Except you’re stubborn. He didn’t admire that quality.” He downed the second cookie. “And I ought to know.”
“I believe stubborn is just a critical way of saying determined. A trait that is needed for those seeking a new life in the West.”
At her airy response, he couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’m going to pick rhubarb.” With a basket on her arm and a knife in her hand, she left the house.
He watched from the window as she crossed to the garden and bent to pull out red stalks, cutting off the green tops. She paused from her work to look at the spot Chet had fenced for a garden. It was May. Chet soon would’ve helped Mae plant even though she insisted she was capable of doing it on her own.
At her protest, Chet had laughed loud enough to scare the crows from the nearby trees. “Maybe so. Maybe so. But would ya rob me of the pleasure?”
Now, who would put the seeds in the ground?
Jace waited for Dianne. “Guess I should show you about the chickens.”
“And the cow?”
“After supper, I’ll show you how to shut the calf away from his mama. Then you can milk in the morning.”
“Do I need a basket for eggs?” At his nod, she found one in the cupboard and called Eddie to accompany them.
Skip stayed at Eddie’s side. He’d protect the boy and his mother. That thought should have given Jace more comfort than it did.
“We see chickens?” Eddie asked.
