Chapter Sixteen

Wagons, horses, and guests eager for another McKay event crowded into Spring Grass on Saturday. News of the latest gathering had traveled faster than Sarah’s invitations. Mild breezes and blue skies greeted the guests.

Walker leaned against a porch railing, keeping away from the party-goers filing through the house and out into the yard. In the midst of the attendees, his wife made sure that everyone had punch as they drifted around, chatting before retiring outdoors. Flo and Sarah had the place shining. Walker had been so busy planting the past two days that he had barely seen his bride.

Toward the end of the week, she had been up earlier than he was, preoccupied with the party and cooking lessons. He had heard Potster was tutoring her culinary skills. Cooking lessons from Potster. The two seemed an unlikely pair.

Music from guitars and banjos filled the air as guests mingled. He watched Sarah carry trays of smoked ham and cheese to the table. She suddenly turned from her task and met his gaze. “Why, Mr. McKay, what a pleasure to see you here. I’m so glad you could join the festivities.” She playfully curtsied.

Walker conceded his absence with a nod. “I know I’ve been scarce lately. Planting season is a busy time.”

“Hey, McKay, nice party,” a voice called out.

Acknowledging the comment with a wave and a smile, Walker moved to join a growing group of ranchers on the opposite side of the porch. Sarah melted back into the crowd.

“So, Walker, how’s ranching been treating you?” Blake Slayton asked.

“Looks to be a bumper year, Blake.”

The remark brought a low, appreciative whistle from the other men. Every rancher there knew the pitfalls of a bad year, and they were quick to rejoice when one of them pulled off a good profit. Walker searched the faces of the men around him, many of whom were close friends. Rusty Johnson and his family had been on the same wagon train with Walker’s parents. He and Rusty’s sons had grown up closer than kin.

“Looks the same way over at the Circle J,” Rusty offered. “We shore need it after the last few.” Every man nodded in agreement.

“Maybe Walker should have married sooner.” The men turned to see Caleb Vanhooser approaching. The accountant looked small and out of place among the ranchers. The men parted and welcomed him into their circle. He smiled nervously at the group.

Walker clapped the accountant on the shoulder affectionately. “I’d venture to say that this man and the good spring rains are partly accountable for the encouraging outlook.”

Caleb removed his glasses and cleaned them with his handkerchief. “I think Walker’s hard work deserves the praise.”

Walker didn’t know how he would have made it through his parents’ deaths if Caleb hadn’t been there to help him with the financial end of things. Walker was better with cattle than figures.

The group moved on, leaving Walker and Caleb alone on the porch. They spoke about the ranch and cattle prices until Sarah approached with punch. Caleb nodded and accepted a cup. “Lovely party, Mrs. McKay.”

“Thank you.” She extended the tray to Walker, who also accepted a cup. Inside, the first few notes of “The Missouri Waltz” drifted out.

“Very nice gathering,” he commented. Was she aware of the song? Did it bring back memories of her wedding day?

“Thank you. I hope it isn’t too large?”

“No.” He took a sip of punch. “Looks to be about right, but I’m going to have to excuse myself. I have work to do in the barn before it rains.”

“Today?” Her expression fell.

“I expected to be free, but unfortunately—”

“Can’t your ranch hands do it?”

“No, Sarah. They’re busy attending a party.”

A strained silence formed. Caleb lifted his cup and swallowed some punch.

When she stiffened her back and walked away, Walker frowned. “What’s wrong with her?”

Smiling, Caleb said, “You know women.”

No, Walker didn’t know women, but this one was starting to seem different. As he watched his wife walk away, he found himself wishing that he could stay a bit longer.