Two days later, Anna rocked with the steady rhythm of the wagon as she sat next to Uncle Walter and peered ahead for another glimpse of the ranch house. From the back of the wagon, Edward leaned over the side to catch his own first look at the Double Rocking B—their home for who knew how long.
Butterflies flipped in Anna’s stomach. Another temporary place to live. Would they ever truly have a home of their own? Since their home in Columbia had burned and Papa died in battle shortly afterward, she and Edward had stayed with several different families for a few weeks. Then they’d finally boarded the west-bound train on the journey that brought them to Seguin. They’d arrived in town with only the clothes on their backs, although Aunt Laura had soon provided one more set of clothes for each of them. Anna was so thankful for the generosity they had received from friends and family, but she longed to have the means to make their own way. Her heart craved a space to call their own. Maybe this would be a fresh start, the change they needed.
Lord, I’m still not sure if we’re doing the right thing here. If this is not Your will, I pray You’ll make it clear to me. And please keep Edward safe. A bit of the tension released from her shoulders. No matter what happened, God would be with them.
As they pulled into the yard, Edward jumped out of the wagon before the horses came to a complete stop. He reached a hand up to Anna and helped her down from her seat, but his body twisted around while his gaze scanned the surroundings. His face held the expression of a puppy just released into a new field.
With her feet on solid ground, Anna’s attention focused on two figures coming through the open door from the house onto the wide front porch. Uncle Walter’s deep voice resonated beside her. “Marty, Aunt Lola. It’s good to see you both again.”
“Walter, it’s always a pleasure.” Mr. O’Brien made his way down the stairs and pumped her uncle’s hand. Facing Anna, he bowed low like a gallant knight. “Miss Stewart, it’s wonderful to see you again as well.” Turning to Edward, he extended his hand. “And you must be Edward. I hear good things about you, son. Looking forward to you joining our group.” Edward pumped his hand so eagerly that Anna wondered how the older man could keep a straight face.
“Marty, don’t keep them standing in the sun.” Aunt Lola called from the porch. “You folks come in. I have coffee and cookies awaitin’.”
Aunt Lola’s bent frame led them down the hall and into a large dining room where three coffee cups were set out on a gleaming pecan wood table. “You men make yourselves at home while I pour you coffee, then I’ll take Anna upstairs to get settled in her room.” She winked at Anna.
Anna followed the older woman up the stairs. She admired the detailed scrollwork carved into the handsome banister. Someone had obviously put a great deal of time and care into building and furnishing the house, yet it was warm and inviting—as if it were welcoming her home.
“Your room is down at the end of the hall next to mine, so if you ever need anythin’, just come and knock hard on me door. Me old ears aren’t what they use to be.” The twinkle flashed in Aunt Lola’s eyes as she turned to smile at Anna before opening the door at the end of the hall. “Here ye go.”
As the door swung open, a gasp slid out from Anna’s parted lips. This wasn’t what she’d expected. The large, sturdy pine bed was impressive in the middle of the room, covered by an exquisite quilt with a star design pieced together in deep burgundies, hunter greens, and royal blues.
“Oh, how lovely,” she breathed, stepping forward to caress the soft fabric. A flash of color in the corner of her vision brought Anna’s attention to the windows, where curtains of the same rich burgundy material hung from the twin windows on either side of the bed. An arm chair rested under the glass on the left, and a pine bureau and mirror to match the bed sat in the opposite corner. The room held an aura of comfortable luxury.
Aunt Lola’s Irish brogue broke into her gawking, “You take your time, dearie, and settle in, then come downstairs when you’re ready. We still have a few hours yet, but you can help me get things ready for supper tonight. While we work, you can tell me all about yourself.”
Anna moved fast as she unpacked her single spare dress and underclothes, then tidied her hair and washed her face in the basin Aunt Lola had been thoughtful enough to fill with water.
She would like this feisty little Irish woman. She glanced in the mirror to make sure everything was in place, fingering the gold cross that hung around her neck. It had been Mama’s, and Papa had given it to Anna for her thirteenth birthday. The necklace and her olive complexion were all Anna had left from her mother. She straightened the cross to lay flat on her brown dress then turned to hurry down the stairs, anxious to say goodbye to Uncle Walter before he headed back to town.
* * *
Later that afternoon, Anna stood over the stove stirring a large pot of what Aunt Lola called Irish stew. It was similar to the beef stew she used to make for Papa in the wintertime and smelled heavenly. Her gaze drifted to the pots hanging from hooks in the corner and the large work counter against the wall. This kitchen was larger than what she was used to working in and much better equipped. The variety of pans and utensils would make it easier to cook for a crowd, not to mention the large stove that was already causing beads of sweat to roll down her face.
Aunt Lola charged into the room with wave of her hand. “C’mon Anna-girl. The men are washing up, so let’s get this food on the table.”
Anna forced down the knot in her stomach. She was about to meet the cowboys for whom she would be cooking. What sort of men would they be? She grabbed the handles on the pot with her apron and carried it to the dining room table, shuffling so as not to spill. The cowboys filed in, nodded, and sauntered around the table to stand behind their chairs, each man holding his hat in his hands. Anna sneaked glances at the four trail-worn men standing around the table. They ranged in height and age, but all had rich black hair and mustaches, with darkly tanned skin. Mr. O’Brien and Edward hadn’t come in yet, and she wasn’t sure what to do with herself now that the food was set out, so Anna stood by the doorway to the kitchen.
Aunt Lola poured the last cup of coffee and looked up. Awkward silence filled the room. A smirk quirked her lips. “Lads, I’d like ya to meet Miss Stewart. She’ll be cookin’ for ya from here on, and if this stew is any sign, she has a real talent in the kitchen.”
A chorus of “Si” and “Welcome, Senorita” echoed from the men just as Mr. O’Brien and Edward appeared in the threshold. After Mr. O’Brien introduced her brother, he motioned for them to be seated. “I’ll tell you new folks who these cowpunchers are after we let ’em start eating. It’s hard to hold ’em back from the grub for niceties.” The grin he shared confirmed his teasing.
When they were all seated, the group bowed their heads in unison as Mr. O’Brien spoke a prayer of thanksgiving in his deep baritone voice. Anna peeked at the Mexican cowboys. She imagined cowboys as rough men who had no manners and little respect for God or the law. These men looked the part, but their earnest expressions during the prayer didn’t fit her expectations.
At Mr. O’Brien’s “Amen, ” hands flew everywhere—grabbing biscuits, passing plates, and spooning soup. As soon as the food hit the men’s plates, however, it disappeared into their open mouths. For a few minutes, Anna could only stare. They ate almost like savages.
A hand touched Anna’s arm. Aunt Lola winked. Heat crawled up Anna’s neck and she dropped her gaze to her bowl. It was empty. She’d better get some food before the men ate it all. There would likely be no leftovers.
As the vigorous pace of eating finally slowed, Mr. O’Brien leaned back in his chair and spoke up. “Well now, let me introduce my boys to you both. This here’s Monty Dominguez, our foreman. He’s been with me since he was old enough to toss a rope, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend or foreman. Next to him is Bo, Monty’s little brother. Monty finally talked him into comin’ over from Mexico a couple years back, and we keep him around to make sure Monty stays out o’ trouble.” A snort issued from Monty as Bo elbowed him in the side. A grin split the younger man’s handsome face.
Mr. O’Brien continued, “And down at the end are Miguel and Donato, Monty’s cousins. You’ll find most of the cow hands on the Double Rocking B are related to Monty somehow or another. We’ve decided they’re a pretty good family with a healthy dose of cow sense. Besides, it’s easier for Monty to keep ’em in line if they’re related to him.” A round of guffaws and elbow pokes erupted as the men heckled each other. Anna glanced in Edward’s direction. A wide grin spread across his youthful face.
After supper was complete and all the dishes washed and put away, Anna followed Aunt Lola into the den for the evening Bible reading. Mr. O’Brien had invited Edward and her to join them for the devotions, after which he’d challenged Edward to a checker match. Her brother had loved the game since he was a young boy and was always looking for a new partner with whom to hone his skills.
The den was a comfortable, homey room with a large fireplace and rustic wood planks covering the walls and flooring. Over the fireplace hung a large painting of a man, woman, and small boy, set in an elaborately carved mahogany wood frame. The man was a much younger version of Mr. O’Brien, with the same dark blue eyes he and his cousin both shared. The blonde woman by his side was lovely, with a joy that seemed to radiate from her as she hugged the young boy. The eyes of both the woman and the lad were also blue but were a lighter sky blue whose crystal clarity might have been a little creative liberty from the artist. Was it possible for real people to have eyes that striking? Altogether, the little family reflected a love that tightened Anna’s chest and sent a familiar burning sensation to her eyes.
“Marty had that portrait painted not long after they finished building the main house.” Aunt Lola’s voice broke into her thoughts. She’d been caught staring.
She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Mr. O’Brien’s booming voice as Edward followed him into the room. They all settled into chairs around the hearth, even though the weather was too warm for a fire. Mr. O’Brien filled every inch of a large wing-back chair as he sat with the Bible in his lap and spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose. Aunt Lola, beside him in a worn rocking chair, picked up a bundle of yellow yarn from the basket at her side and began crocheting tiny stitches. Anna and Edward lounged on a strait-back sofa across from them.
As Mr. O’Brien read Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount from the book of Matthew, Anna’s eyes drifted around the room and rested on an empty wing-back chair beside her between the sofa and the fireplace. Whose chair was that? Probably an extra for guests.
While Mr. O’Brien continued his reading, the sun disappeared into darkness, cloaking the room in a cozy atmosphere like a warm blanket on a cold night. Anna released a long breath, allowing her fears to slip away. It was more peaceful out here on the ranch than any place she had been. Like she was closer to her heavenly Father—as if she could reach out and touch Him. Thank you, Lord.
* * *
As the morning sky lightened into pinks and oranges the next day, Anna furiously whipped hotcake batter. She’d urged Aunt Lola to sleep late today, figuring the woman hadn’t had a chance to do so in many years if she cooked for the men each morning. The cowboys would show up any second ready to scarf down a stack of hotcakes, and she only had one plate piled high for the men. It was definitely more challenging to time the food right when you were feeding eight hungry mouths instead of just Papa and Edward. She’d get better at this, though. That was for sure.
While the last skillet of hotcakes finished sizzling on the stovetop, Anna carried a plate piled with bacon and a large pot of coffee into the dining hall. Mr. O’Brien greeted her from the doorway, his brown hair slicked down and his moustache still damp. “G’morning, Miss Stewart. It smells better than a candy store in here.” The resident twinkle in his eye reminded her of Papa. “The rest of the cowboys should be back from the cattle drive any day now, if they didn’t get held up anywhere, so I guess I’d better eat my fill now while I can still get some.”
Anna’s head jerked up from the coffee she poured. “The rest of the cowboys, sir?”
“Yep, my son, Jacob, and ten other cowboys are on the cattle drive, taking our stock to market in Kansas. That’s the closest market town with a railroad stop, so we get much better money for ’em there. It took about a month to drive the cows and make it back last year, and they’ve already been gone longer than that on this trip. I’m sure Jacob has things well in hand, though.” The fatherly pride on the man’s face sent a pang to Anna’s heart. Her father used to look at her with that same expression.
Later that morning, Anna finished wiping down the work counter in the kitchen and glanced around before hanging her towel on a peg. The stove top glistened and the pans were all hung on their hooks. She’d swept and scoured the floors in both the kitchen and dining room until they shone. Possessiveness warmed Anna’s insides. This was her kitchen now. Her own domain to concoct tasty dishes and desserts that would make the cowboys’ mouths water. She’d always loved the response when people enjoyed her cooking, but it would be so much better now that she was able to craft the delicious meals in her own kitchen.
Anna let out a contented sigh and went in search of Aunt Lola. The men had taken packed lunches with them for the day, and supper preparations wouldn’t begin until early afternoon. Maybe there was something else she could help with?
Anna found her in Mr. O’Brien’s office dusting the shelves and was rewarded with a warm smile. “And how are things, my dear? Thank ye so much for my morning break today. I’m afraid me old bones wouldn’t allow for much sleepin’ in, but I spent a glorious morning with my Heavenly Father and that was the best gift of all.”
Anna returned her smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. The kitchen is clean for now, so I’ve come to see how I can help you in the house. Should I make the beds or sweep anywhere?”
“Nay, there’s nothing needs doing that can’t wait a while. Why don’t you take some time for yourself and look around a bit. A pretty young thing like you needs to get outside and stretch your legs. Now get on with ya.” Aunt Lola made a shooing motion with her hand.
Anna bit the corner of her lip. “Are you sure I can’t help you with anything?” She’d been hired to work, not enjoy the sights.
“If I let you do it all, there won’t be work left for me, and me old bones will get lazy.” With that, the woman turned back to the bookshelves and Anna had the distinct impression she’d been dismissed.
Despite her guilt over not helping with housework, Anna was excited to explore the place. Edward had been assigned barn chores that morning. Anna had not even been out to gather eggs or milk the cow, and she was eager to see what manner of animals lived on a cattle ranch.
Anna stepped off the porch, tilted her head back, and soaked in the warm late-summer sun. It wasn’t quite as scorching as it had been during August when they’d first arrived in Seguin and was a welcome relief after having been in the house for so long.
She strolled toward the corrals near the barn. Half a dozen horses milled around in the larger pen, but one mare’s unusual color caught her eye. The horse’s body was a mixture of white and black hairs that didn’t form a pattern until they reached her rump, which was white with black spots, each about the size of Anna’s fist. The mare’s face also had a patch of white that splashed over both blue eyes. The horse was striking and unlike any of the solid or paint horses she’d seen before.
Approaching the corral fence, Anna held a hand through the rail and called, “C’mere, girl.” She didn’t really expect the horse to come, but the animal ambled over with a bored expression. “Hey there pretty girl. How ya doin’?” Anna crooned as she stroked the horse’s neck then reached up to scratch the universal favorite spot behind her ears. The mare sniffled a soft nicker and leaned forward to blow in Anna’s face. A giddy warmth flowed through her. It was so good to be around animals again.
* * *
That evening, Anna sat at the dinner table, pleasure warming her as the men dove into the food she’d prepared. Shepherd’s Pie was an easy meal to cook but usually a hit with the recipients. For dessert, she would surprise them with fresh blackberry pies made from the berries she’d found in the pasture behind the house.
“Senorita Stewart, you sure do know your way around la cocina,” Donato declared, admiration in his voice.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mr. O’Brien agreed. “I haven’t tasted mashed potatoes this creamy since I traveled back east before the War. You southern gals sure do know how to satisfy a man’s belly.”
Anna’s face heated, but she managed to mumble, “Thank you,” before dipping her head to focus on the food on her own plate.
As the conversation turned to horses and cattle, Anna released a breath. The men discussed rotating the horse string kept near the barn for daily use, and the seed of an idea planted itself in her mind.
When the next lull broke the conversation, she spoke. “Mr. O’Brien, would you, by chance, have an extra horse available that I could ride on occasion? Only when I have an extra few minutes between chores.”
She shouldn’t have asked. What would the man think of her loitering around during broad daylight when she should be working? After all, he was paying her to cook and clean, not go on joyrides across the countryside.
Before she could retract her words, though, he spoke. “By all means. Take Bandita, the Appaloosa mare in the corral. She’s a good ride and will take care of you.”
Anna’s heart leaped at the possibility. “Is she the mare with the black spots on her hindquarters and the white mask across her eyes?”
“The very one. Horses with the spotted color pattern are called Appaloosas after the Palouse Indians that bred them. You won’t find a hardier breed around, nor one that can run faster.”
Anna couldn’t hold back the grin that begged for release. She planned to test that last fact.