Dean spent the entire next day in his office, leaving Courtney to her own devices once again. Thankfully, both Jimena and Pilar arrived at the house that morning to start preparations for the feast that would be made up for the men that night. There was corn to grind, vegetables to roast, meat to smoke, pan dulce to bake, and tamales to roll. Jimena had started a traditional mole poblano the day before and continued nursing the large pot of sauce.
Courtney was anxious to assist where she could, having already learned so much from Jimena in regard to cooking and appreciating the added benefit of being able to practice her Spanish. She had gotten to the point where she knew a great number of common verbs and nouns and a variety of descriptors. If she heard any words she still didn’t know, she usually understood enough to get the gist of what was being said. And she truly loved the hours she spent in the kitchen. She had never realized how much camaraderie and respect could be experienced by joining others in a common task. Of course, the good-natured teasing and gentle guidance helped, as did the endless bouts of laughter. She couldn’t even consider it work when it was so much fun.
Just after midday, the men started riding in.
At the sight of the first group, Jimena burst into a flurry of activity, issuing sharp orders to both Pilar and Courtney to get the food finished and prepped for serving down at the bunkhouse.
“These men are going to be hungry and tired,” Jimena asserted in Spanish. “We must have a wealth of flavors to welcome them home.”
“Mama believes everything can be made better with food,” Pilar whispered in an amused aside to Courtney.
“That’s because it can,” her mother retorted from across the kitchen.
Courtney laughed as she rushed to complete the task had Jimena assigned to her.
* * *
By the time the sun touched the western horizon, more than twenty men had come in from the range. Their horses had been tended to and settled in with mounds of fresh hay, healthy grains, and cool water, while the men themselves had been fed near to bursting. Laughter and conversation resounded from the bunkhouse loud enough to be heard from the front porch of the main house.
Earlier, Courtney had brought a plate of food to Dean in his office. He had barely looked up from the paperwork and ledgers spread across his desk. Slightly annoyed by his lack of attention, and even more annoyed that it bothered her in the first place, she had decided not to go back to fetch his dishes. The man could carry them back to the house himself.
The remnants of the day of cooking had all been cleaned up, and Jimena had returned to the house beyond the pasture for the night. The two younger women were taking a moment to relax in the fresh air. As the long fingers of fading sunlight stretched across the yard, Courtney stood at the porch railing and had to forcibly keep herself from glancing toward the barn, wondering when Dean might make an appearance.
“Is it always like this when the men return?” she asked, hoping to distract herself.
“The first night, yes,” Pilar replied from the rocker in the corner of the porch. “After tonight, some will settle down a bit while others will head into town for more entertainment. As much as they love being out on the range, coming home always feels a bit like a fiesta.”
Courtney felt a stab of concern for her friend. Exhaustion was apparent in her deep breaths and her weary gaze. Though Pilar hadn’t uttered a single word of complaint, Courtney had to suspect the woman’s very large belly had caused some significant strain through the day.
Courtney was just about to suggest that Pilar go home to get some real rest when Randall came sauntering over from the bunkhouse and her friend’s face lit up at the sight of him.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said with a warm smile as he leapt over the porch railing to land right in front of his wife. He crouched down and took her hands in his to lift them both to his lips. “How is my loveliest of blossoms feeling tonight?”
“More like an overripe melon ready to burst on the vine than a flower,” Pilar retorted, causing Randall to chuckle.
“Not much longer now, honey. Just a few more weeks, and we’ll have a little one to snuggle.”
Courtney observed the interaction with a smile, appreciating the love and optimism shared by the couple.
“And how has your day been, Mrs. Lawton?”
Courtney recognized Randall’s teasing insistence on using her formal name exactly for what it was. The funny thing of it was that his determination to call her by a name she had never wanted managed to keep Courtney from taking the title too seriously. She credited Randall’s unique brand of boyish mischief for keeping the situation in proper perspective.
Just because she was temporarily married to a man who barely seemed to tolerate her presence did not mean she had to pout or rail at the circumstances she had no immediate way out of.
“Courtney has been working beside us in the kitchen all day.”
Randall’s eyes widened as he rose to full height, though he remained standing at his wife’s side. “Is that so?”
“Well, not all day,” Courtney clarified. “I did take an hour to visit Snowball and Sunshine.”
Randall lifted an eyebrow toward Pilar. “Who?”
“Nettie’s new kids,” Courtney replied. “It felt awkward continuing to call them the white one and the white one with spots, so I gave them names. I hope that’s all right.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Randall replied, but something in his tone reminded Courtney that he probably wasn’t the Lawton she should be asking. Dean hadn’t seemed too concerned with the idea of her visiting them, but she supposed naming a creature could potentially cross the line into interference.
“Well, the fire’s been lit and the men are starting to head down. I thought I’d come over and see if you ladies were ready to join them.” Randall glanced at his wife. “Unless you aren’t feeling up to it?”
Pilar smiled and rose to her feet, placing on hand on the upper curve of her belly. “I’d like to go down for a little while, at least. It will be nice to see everyone again.”
“All right. Mrs. Lawton?”
“I’ll go if you stop calling me that,” Courtney replied with a salty smile.
Randall laughed and gave her an unabashed wink. “I can’t help it. It suits you, I think.”
Courtney rolled her eyes.
“Besides,” he added as they all stepped down from the porch and started across the yard toward the bunkhouse, “you should probably get used to it since that’s who you’ll be to all the men down at the fire.”
Randall took Pilar’s hand as they walked side by side. The comfortable display of their affection for each other was so different from what Courtney was used to back home. Holding hands so casually would have been considered practically scandalous.
She much preferred Montana’s way of doing things. “I would rather just be Courtney,” she said honestly.
Randall shook his head. “You’re the boss’s wife. They’ll be affording you the respect Dean would expect of them.”
Courtney figured Randall was right. She cast another glance toward the barn. Now that dusk had fallen, she could see the glow of light coming from the office window. Did the man intend to leave his office at all today?
“You mentioned last night that he does not join in with the men’s revelry,” Courtney said. “Why is that?”
“He used to enjoy a good party now and then, but it all changed when Granddad passed on and Dean took over. As boss, he has to keep a distance from the men so they continue to respect him.”
“You don’t feel the same way?”
“Naw. It’s different for me. I’m just the foreman, and I spend most days working alongside them. Besides, I like people and I like parties way too much.”
“Does your brother keep to himself out on the range as well?”
“For the most part. When he heads out, that is.”
“That sounds rather lonely.”
Randall gave a look she couldn’t quite read. “It is.”
The bonfire was taking place down near the river. Long wooden benches had been set up around the dancing flames, and more than a dozen men were already gathered around. Courtney had met many of them earlier when she’d helped Jimena serve their meal and was greeted warmly as room was made on a bench for the ladies to sit.
Then someone picked up a fiddle and started to play.