Chance Of A Lifetime (3 page)

When Logan and Hattie took places across the table from her, she looked up in surprise. Customarily, the newlyweds sat at the center of the table, surrounded by well-wishers. As Bryce escorted Miz Willow over, getting the old healer situated, Daisy shot Hattie a questioning look.

“It’s our wedding,” Hattie murmured, positively glowing.

“We’ll sit at the head of our table, with our closest loved ones,” Logan finished. “No one will gainsay us.”

“Hey, buddy.” Bryce came and took the spot on Jamie’s other side.

“‘Ey, Byce!” Jamie squirmed excitedly.

“Easy, there.” Bryce reached out to steady Jamie when he leaned back a little too far.

Daisy shot him a grateful smile, but Bryce only gave her a brief nod before bowing his head for the prayer. She’d never before met a man of so few words.
What goes on in that quiet head of his? Mayhap without his brother around to talk for the pair of ‘em, Bryce’ll speak up, and I’ll learn more about him. Any man

Jamie spends so much time with is someone I need to get to know
.

Soon enough, nothing more than crumbs dusted the tables, and it was time to get things moving. Silk Trevor gave Daisy a decisive nod.

“I need to go holp Silk for a minute,” Daisy leaned over and whispered to Miz Willow. “Would you mind Jamie for a while?”

“No problem.” Bryce Chance stood up and swung Jamie in the air.

“I—” Daisy’s heart caught in her throat as Jamie squealed with the fun of falling back down. She couldn’t breathe for a few minutes even after Bryce caught him easily.

Doesn’t the man realize Jamie’s condition?
Was Bryce so oblivious he didn’t know Jamie needed special care?

One look at the delighted surprise on her baby boy’s face and the words died on her lips. Bryce wasn’t about to drop Jamie—she needed to stop overreacting. Daisy took a deep breath and joined Silk, while Bryce carried Jamie and walked with Miz Willow to the circle that was forming.

Everybody gathered around Logan and Hattie to watch them open their wedding gifts. Daisy and Silk waited for the chatter to die down before handing the first package to the happy couple.

“Wait a minute!” Rooster Linden stood up. “I got summat to say. Firstly, my gift for the happy couple is up at my place. It’s a new buckboard, only I ain’t got a horse to pull it down here jist yet, on account of loanin’ her to a friend in need.” He grinned, then sobered. “Second, and more important, I want to say in front of everybody here how grateful I am to Hattie, Logan, and Bryce Chance. They saw me through a time when I had to fight my demons. I wouldn’t have pulled through if it weren’t for them. Yore fine folks, and I’m glad to have Logan stayin’ in the holler. I’m shore I ain’t the only one who feels that way.” He paused while cheers erupted all around.

“Because of their holp and yore prayers, I’ve stopped drinkin’ likker. I know I ain’t the only man in this holler who owes you a ‘thankee,’ but it comes from the bottom of my heart. I wish you two a long and happy marriage!” With that, he sat back down, and the gift giving could truly begin. Logan ripped open the first package.

“Beautiful workmanship,” he praised, running his hands over the graceful curves of hand-carved swan-neck towel pegs.

“I thought they’d look good on the wall of yore new home.” Asa Pleasant spoke modestly but beamed at their pleasure.

“I expect so,” Logan agreed.

Hattie opened the next gift, a full set of towels, embroidered by Silk Trevor.

“These’re lovely, Silk!” She held up the corner of a washcloth and traced the delicate blue
C
adorning the corner.

“We’ll be sure to hang them on our washstand,” Logan planned aloud as he opened a bundle.

“That thar’s an ole family recipe fer pickled pigs’ feet.” Her husband nowhere in sight, Bethilda Cleary spoke loudly as Hattie picked up a card from the baking dish. “Ain’t nobody makes it better’n my daughters, Lily and Lark, but you cain’t go wrong with that thar recipe.” Having spoken her piece, Bethilda sat back down.

“Thankee, Bethilda.” Hattie put the cookware to the side as Logan accepted another parcel.

“I hope you like it.” Abigail Rucker shifted her new baby to her shoulder while her husband, Nate, the holler’s hulking blacksmith, rubbed her back between her shoulder blades.

Logan unfurled a braided hearth rug in varying shades of blue cloth.

“When did you have time to make this, Abby?” Hattie stroked the pretty rug.

“Bitty Nate here don’t let me sleep much anyhow.” Abby blushed with pleasure. “I started it as soon as y’all tole me ‘bout yore engagement.”

“So did I.” Cantankerous old Otis Nye shuffled forward with a large object covered by an old sheet. He set it before the newlyweds and backed up, waiting for them to reveal what he’d made.

Logan gave the sheet a short tug. It slid to the ground, revealing a maple wedding chest.

“Ooh,” Hattie breathed, reaching out to touch the flowers chiseled into the wood. Otis had carved blooming vines to encircle the smooth wooden sides of the chest.

“Figgured it were fittin’ since yore our healer, Hattie.” The old man spoke gruffly, but everyone knew he couldn’t discount the time and care he’d put into his gift. “And Logan here’s the one who’s got me carvin’ all the time now anyway.”

“That’s right.” Logan walked over and clapped the old man on the back. “Frank Tarhill back in Charleston is gearing up for that next shipment of yours. He’s very pleased with how things are working out with your and Asa’s carving. Those checker sets and nativities sell very well.”

“Of course they do!” Otis drew himself up and broke into a grin.

Hattie opened the next package, drawing out a beautiful, blue and green, wedding ring quilt.

“Miz Willow, you shouldn’t have!” She fingered the thick fabric. “This belonged to yore ma.”

“The good Lord didn’t see fit to give me a child of my flesh.” The old woman’s eyes glistened. “But yore the daughter of my heart, Hattie. I figgured the time’s come to pass it on.”

Hattie handed Logan the quilt before rushing over to the old widow and enveloping her in a tight hug.

Ma gave me a quilt like that on Peter’s and my weddin’ day
. Daisy blinked back tears of loss.
It burned in the fire, and now

I don’t have anything to remember her by
.

Women started to gather up the dishes left over from the feast. A lot of folks had a bit of a walk before they got back home, and the celebration had stretched through the afternoon. The time had come to get home to waiting chores.

Daisy slung Jamie on her hip and gathered the now-empty dishes she’d brought for the celebration. Miz Willow leaned on her cane as she hobbled on the path. Logan carried the swan-neck towel pegs and the hearth rug, while Hattie cradled their monogrammed linens. Bryce walked a bit behind, his arms full with the new wedding chest. He’d seen to it that the quilt rested inside.

After putting the bounty in Hattie and Logan’s new home, Bryce retired to the barn loft where he and Logan had slept since arriving in Salt Lick Holler. He tossed his boots on Logan’s empty pallet before bunking down.

At least I’ll get a good night’s sleep without Logan’s yammering
.

“Hope you have a fine time,” Miz Willow called after them as Logan and Hattie departed for the train station early the next morning.

“Good-bye!” Daisy waved.

From her arms, Jamie clapped his hands and let out a slightly garbled, “Bye!”

“See you in two weeks.” Bryce supported Miz Willow’s elbow out in the yard. It seemed only fitting to give the newlyweds a proper send-off.

Once the happy couple disappeared around the bend, Daisy and Jamie trailed into the house behind Miz Willow—probably to clean up after their hasty breakfast. Bryce headed for the barn. He grabbed the milking pail and set the three-legged stool beside the cow.

“Mornin’, Starla.” He gave her a pat on the rump before he set about the business at hand. When the pail was full, he went out to the well and drew up last night’s cold milk to exchange for the fresh. Before he and Logan had arrived, this well was the only way Hattie and Miz Willow could draw water. Now that he and Logan had installed a new water pump and piping, the well could be used strictly to keep things fresh and cool. He picked it up and headed for the cabin.

“Here you go.” He plunked the pail down on the table.

“Thankee, Bryce.” Miz Willow made her way across the room. “I’m fixin’ to do some baking today.”

Bryce looked around. Daisy busily swiped a rag around the furniture, keeping everything spick-and-span. Jamie sat on his pallet, stacking blocks. Bryce hunkered down to look the boy in the eye.

“What do you say you come and help me gather eggs this morning, Jamie?”

“Ma?” he questioned his mother before answering.

Bryce saw Daisy hesitate and could practically hear the thoughts running through her mind.
What if the chickens scratch her son or, worse, peck him?
He hadn’t missed the panicked look on her face the day before when he’d tossed Jamie into the air.

“I’ll hold him,” Bryce reassured her. “Jamie can help me hang on to the basket.” It would do the little tyke good to do something other than play with blocks and study. Jamie’s legs were twisted and jerky, but he had a lot more control over his hands and arms.

“All right,” she assented with a slow nod. Jamie mimicked the motion, nodding eagerly and stretching up his arms.

Bryce scooped him up, handed the boy the egg basket, and tromped back to the barn. Jamie sat in the crook of his left arm, cradling the basket as Bryce opened the chicken coop.

“You have to be real quiet so you don’t startle them,” Bryce explained. “Then you reach under them, nice and gentle, to see if there’s an egg.” He spoke the instructions as he found the first egg. “Then we put it in the basket. Want to help with the next one?”

“‘Es.” Jamie nodded somberly.

“Good.” Bryce took the basket and looped it over his arm, then guided Jamie’s hand into the next nest.

Jamie stroked the feathers of one of the birds. His touch was clumsy but gentle.

Bryce helped the little boy reach under the chicken and find the egg. “Feel that?”

“‘Es,” he whispered excitedly, his little hand closing around the egg and tugging it free.

“Good job,” Bryce praised as he steadied Jamie’s arm so he could place the egg in the basket.

The job took far more time than usual, but Bryce enjoyed the look of wonder and excitement on the little boy’s face. If something as simple as gathering eggs could make the lad feel included, Bryce would make sure to find other things the boy could do. He carried the child and eggs back into the house.

“We’re all done.” Bryce transferred Jamie to Daisy’s arms, then set the eggs on the table. “Eleven of ‘em.”

“Did you have fun?” Daisy cuddled her son close.

“None boken,” Jamie declared proudly.

“That’s right. Jamie was a big help. The chickens like him.”

“That’s my little man!” At the grin on her son’s face, Daisy broke into a matching smile.

When she turned the full force of that smile onto Bryce, he almost stepped back from the impact. Daisy’s brown eyes positively shone with the joy she found in her son. Bryce always knew she was attractive, but when she glowed with love, Daisy became the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Bryce headed for the door. “I’ve got some things to tend to.” He winced at how abrupt he sounded, but it couldn’t be helped. He’d hardly taken a step when he felt a soft hand on his arm.

“Thankee.” Daisy smiled up at him with gratitude and happiness. The warmth of her smile and the heat of her palm on his arm sparked something in him.

“Welcome,” Bryce responded gruffly before retreating to the safety of the barn, where he always knew what to do.

Lord, I can understand what to do with a horse or any other creature—how to put ‘em at ease. So why am I at such a loss with the pretty little widow with her heartfelt smile?

If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that man got flustered when I thanked him
, Daisy mused as Bryce disappeared from view.
He’s one of those men who likes to do for others but doesn’t know how to handle the appreciation afterwards. It’s sweet—jist like the way he treats Jamie. It’s mighty nice of him to take an interest in my boy while he’s here. Jamie’ll never know his pa, but he cain relish bein’ ‘round a man like Bryce, even iff ‘n ‘tis for but a brief time
.