Mid-September
Jenny stood on the porch to greet the dawn and braid her long hair before starting the chores. The fresh air soothed her sleepless worry, and she savored the early morning birdcall. “Where are You, Lord?” she whispered as the sky lightened over the top of the eastern hills. “Show me what I need to know.”
Sal raised a sleepy head when Jenny slipped into the barn. She noted the closed door on the right. She’d told her brothers to sleep in while she handled the livestock. The day would be full of moving and sorting, and with all the emotions waiting to ambush them, they’d be more cheerful with plenty of rest.
The cow lowed and she blew it a kiss. “I’ll be back soon.” As she walked the length of the long barn, the friendly horses nickered from their stall doors. Chickens grumbled in their enclosure and the rooster tried a raucous greeting. The comforting grain and hay scents mingled with the other evidence of livestock. Jenny couldn’t remember any other life.
That all might change, soon.
Jenny opened the double doors to the pasture and let the horses out, one by one. The yearlings kicked their heels and scampered as fast as they could to the water pond. The mares plodded after with their foals, a whisper of amusement tickling their muzzles.
Jenny released the sturdy geldings last and watched them saunter out. They were her only hope, the half-dozen chestnut horses her father had meticulously trained. She’d continued taking them through their paces as best she could, but already they had lost her father’s fine tuning and they let her know as they ambled into the sunrise.
Jenny freed the cow and Ma Duncan’s chicken flock, then straightened her shoulders. The barn had two rooms: the bunk room where her brothers slept and where Charles Moss would move in today, and the small office where her father had managed the farm’s business.
That was the second part of the morning’s chores: going through her father’s paperwork.
Jenny stepped inside the stale room. Drifts of straw followed her, and she frowned. Pa never tolerated untidiness. She’d sweep when she finished.
The standing desk to the left held cubbyholes stuffed with papers. Shelves filled with ledgers, medicines, and tired horse-doctoring books covered the right wall. Jenny had taken money out of the locked cash drawer in the six weeks since her father’s and husband’s deaths, but now she needed to learn exactly where they stood financially. Jenny sat on the high stool and started at the top cubby on the left.
“Oh, Pa,” Jenny whispered as she sifted through the papers, her heart contracting in sorrow at his precise handwritten notes. She’d walked in a daze, hardly knowing what to mourn first: the ache of her father’s absence, the never-ending work, the guilt of feeling grateful she didn’t have to worry about Tom anymore. The emotions overwhelmed her.
And now a baby.
Too much.
“Good morning, ma’am.” Charles Moss knocked on the door, saddlebags and a rifle over his shoulder. Sal padded behind him wagging her tail.
Jenny flinched. “I didn’t expect you until later, Mr. Moss.”
“Call me Charles.” He frowned. “Boys not up yet? The horses are out.”
“They’ve been working so hard, I told them to sleep in this morning with school starting on Monday.”
He laughed. “I bet they’ve been eating a lot, too.”
“Constantly. It’s a good thing they like oatmeal.” She stared at him. “I hope you like oatmeal.”
“Ma raised me on it. It makes good filling.”
Jenny nodded. “We’ve been living on oatmeal, eggs, milk, and chickens, plus the vegetables from the garden.”
“Then I’ve got good news. I shot a fat doe not far down the road. I’ll leave my gear here and retrieve it.” Charles dumped the heavy leather bags beside the door.
When was the last time she’d eaten chewy, flavorful venison? “Thank you.”
Charles’s face came alive with his bright grin. Jenny quickly looked down. She should not be so bold as to share the excitement with him. She was a married woman.
Her brain protested. Not any longer.
She heard him step away. “Do you have a smokehouse?”
“Behind the house near the garden.”
“I’ll hang it there,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Moss. Roast venison will be a treat.” Jenny’s cheeks felt hot and probably were turning red. She peeked at him.
“Charles, remember?” He scratched Sal’s ears. “This dog needs to run off some fat. Can I take her with me?”
“Sal hasn’t run in ages,” Jenny scoffed.
“No?” He raised an eyebrow at Jenny and whistled as he exited.
The dog loped after him.
Jenny stepped to the doorway to watch them go, the tall lanky dark-haired man with the yellow dog running behind. He spoke to Sal as he swung onto his horse in a fluid movement that bespoke years in the saddle. When he saw Jenny, he lifted his hat in salute and then clicked his horse and the dog toward the road.
He rode mighty fine.
Jenny returned to the office.
An hour later, she spread the papers from the locked drawer across the desk and slumped on the stool. “Oh, Pa, what were you thinking?”
Ma Duncan stomped into the small room. “That man is back, and he’s butchering a deer. Them boys ever going to get up?”
Jenny blinked away the tears. “He’s shot meat for dinner.”
“That fool dog follows after him like he’s a god. You mark my words, he’s up to no good.” Her shrill voice carried too loud for Jenny’s ears.
“We need his help. Let’s treat him well.”
“Don’t you get any ideas, you hussy. He may be easy on the eyes, but he’s not one for you. You’ve got my Tom’s babe to think about. You ain’t even started your grieving yet. Why, you’re not even wearing black.”
“I don’t have a black dress; that’s why I sewed the black sunbonnet.”
Ma Duncan’s tight little face contorted. “I rue the day Tom ever did your family a service and brought the family your brothers’ effects. Your family and friends were nothing but bad news for my boy. And now look what’s become of me. Stuck in the middle of nowhere without any kin.”
“You have us,” Jenny said.
“Fat lot it’s going to do me if ’n you starve me to death out here to save all your precious horses.”
“Do you know anything about these papers?” Jenny handed three neatly written IOUs to her mother-in-law.
She backed away. “You know very well I don’t got much learnin’. What do they say?”
“They say Tom loaned my father money. Do you know where Tom got cash?”
Ma Duncan’s eyes gleamed. “That’s one skill you never did cotton to. My boy came back from the war knowing ways to get money when he wanted it.”
“By gambling?” Jenny asked point-blank.
The old woman cackled. “He knew when to take a chance, my boy did. He could spot a sucker a mile off.”
Jenny’s mouth went dry, and her stomach roiled yet again. “Why did he marry me?”
“You folks had a nice little place here, missy. And if them IOUs mean anything in a court of law, it now belongs to me.”