A Man for Glory Page 8

  Her chin lifted and her eyes flashed. “He bought me material so I could make new kitchen curtains and I picked out a new oilcloth for the table and fabric to make dresses and shirts for Essie and Buddy. And even tea for me, because I don’t care much for coffee. Oh, and lilac soap, because I like the way it smells.”

  Cade grinned. “But no lacy underthings, I’ll bet. Or pretty nightgowns, either.”

  “I didn’t need those things. I made my small things from feed sacks. I don’t need lace.”

  “Well, you’ll wear lace when you marry me, sweetheart. In fact, we’ll stop first at the general store to check on a dress for you and one for Essie and get your ring then. I suspect they have a good many lacy things in your size in those glass boxes on the shelves.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then swallowed the words. It seemed that Cade would have his way in this, and somehow she couldn’t find the grit to argue with him. The thought of new underthings against her skin was a temptation. Perhaps even batiste, at least something finer than the feed sacks.

  “Nothing to say, sweetheart?” he asked with a grin, and she shook her head.

  “Well then, let’s plan on leaving here early on Saturday morning. We’ll need to plan on an hour at the general store, and the preacher will be looking for us by noon. Then we’ll go to the restaurant at the hotel and have a good dinner. So don’t plan on cooking. We can piece out a sandwich or something for supper later on. All right?”

  She could only nod, for it seemed that Cade had it all worked out and she was not about to rock this particular boat. Although a wedding was not what she had planned so soon, it seemed to her that he had it headed in the right direction, and she decided to ride along. If he was agreeable, if he was willing to be patient with her, she saw no reason to drag her feet. If he was to be her husband, as he’d said, she’d better be thinking along the lines of a real marriage. Perhaps he’d be willing to wait a while before he claimed his rights. And perhaps pigs might fly.

  Saturday morning came sooner than Glory had thought it would, for she’d looked forward to it anxiously and on the other hand, had feared the changes it would bring about in her life. When she heard Cade and Buddy talking in the kitchen just after dawn, she rolled from her bed and sought out her work dress.

  “You’re up early,” she said to the pair of them as she walked into the kitchen.

  “Cade said we gotta get the chores done early and then eat breakfast and do whatever you have for us to do before we can leave for town. So we’re about to go out and take care of the cow and chickens and see to the horses. The pinto was looking around the new stall last night, so Cade put her in there for the night.”

  Glory swung her gaze to where Cade watched her. “Will we be able to leave them if they’re ready to drop their foals this morning?”

  “I’m gonna go out to have a look-see right now, sweetheart. Come on, Buddy. No breakfast till the chores are finished. Let’s see if we can beat Glory, getting ready to leave for town.”

  “I’m comin’, Cade,” the boy answered eagerly, trotting alongside his hero as they stepped from the porch and headed to the barn.

  It was but two or three minutes when a call came from the barn door. “Glory, come on out here.” It was Buddy’s voice, loud and clear, with excitement in every syllable.

  She wiped her hands on the dish towel, then slid the pan of biscuits into the oven, for she’d just tossed them together quickly. Now she ran, her feet flying over the dusty ground as she headed for the barn.

  Inside it was dim, but Cade had opened the back door and the sunlight shed its glow within that area. “Come on over here, Glory,” Cade said quietly. “Take a look.”

  Glory stepped quietly across the floor to where Cade stood just inside the double stall he had prepared for the animals ready to give birth. The pinto mare stood patiently near him, bending her head as he slid his hand beneath her mane and scratched her there, speaking to her in a low voice.

  Beside her was a foal, spraddle-legged and still damp from his journey, for he looked to be barely a few minutes old. “I had to lend a hand to the mama here, but her colt was on his feet like a shot. He’s a sturdy little fella, and pretty as a picture.”

  “He’s beautiful,” Glory whispered, her eyes damp with tears, although she didn’t know why she should feel like crying, for Cade was happy, his dream coming true with the arrival of the first of his new crop of horses.

  The tiny colt butted his head against his mother’s side, and then, as if he caught a scent that interested him, he bent his head low, reaching beneath her until he found her teats. With a whuffle of delight, he suckled one and choked a bit, milk running from his mouth. He bent his head, stretching his neck as he reached again for the milk she provided and this time was able to hold tight, making Cade laugh aloud.

  “You’ve got the hang of it now, boy.” The pinto lowered her own head to turn and keep an eye on her baby, and Buddy slid from the stall to clasp Glory’s hand.

  “Ain’t it grand, Glory? Just look at that little fella. Who would have thought that he could have come out from inside that pinto?”

  “That’s one of the miracles of life, Buddy. It’s the way God designed animals to reproduce. And when the foal grows up he will be able to help a lot of mares have babies of their own. That is, if Cade keeps him as a stallion.” She slanted a look at Cade as she spoke.

  He laughed aloud. “You’re looking way ahead, Glory girl. But if he looks this good when he’s a few months old, we may just plan on keeping him for a stud. He’s got good markings, and his conformation is right. Hard to say with a foal so young, but I saw his daddy over at Earl Bradley’s place, and he looks to be about the same sort of animal. We’ll see.”

  “Will she be all right if we’re gone today?” Glory asked, unwilling to do anything that might imperil the new mares and their birthing of foals.

  “I think so. I’ve got the wall pulled down and we’ll bring one of the other mares inside before we leave, just in case. The third one doesn’t look like she’s close enough to worry about yet.”

  He turned to Buddy then. “If you’ll milk the cow, I’ll harness up the horse to the wagon for our trip to town, son. And I’ll even gather the eggs and feed the chickens.”

  Buddy’s grin was quick. “I can do that.” And he was gone to the springhouse, where he collected the extra milk pail and rinsed it at the pump, then brought it back to the barn.

  Glory backed from the stall. “I’ll take care of the chickens, Cade. I need to check on my old cluck anyway, and feed her. And by that time the biscuits will be done.”

  Glory hastened to the chicken coop, fed her hens and the rooster, who was feeling pretty spry this morning. The hen she’d put in the corner clucked contentedly on her nest, but deigned to rise long enough to feed when Glory tossed seed within her enclosure.

  Essie was in the kitchen when Glory got there, rubbing her eyes and pulling the ribbon from her braid. “Will you have time to do my hair, Glory?”

  “Right after breakfast. Now wash up so you can help me, Essie. You’ll need to get out plates and silverware. Don’t forget a cup for Cade’s coffee, and one for me, too. I’ll be having the last of the tea.”

  “You running out of tea, ma’am?” Cade stood on the porch, apparently aware of their conversation. “We’ll have to fix that when we go to town.”

  His hands were still dripping and his head was slick from the water he’d used to smooth it down. “Could I use a towel, ma’am? I thought to dry my hands off out there in the sunshine, but it’s not hot enough yet.”

  Glory smiled at him. “I guess I could spare a towel for you today.”

  He stood before her, his hands wrapped in the length of cotton toweling she’d given him. He held it in his hands, letting it droop between them.

  “I’ll take it,” she said, but he was too quick for her and his hands lifted, the towel falling over her head, catching her neck and with a steady pull, he drew her closer to him
.

  “Gotcha,” he whispered, his grin melting her defenses. For she leaned just a bit, her breasts barely touching his broad chest, her hands on his shoulders. “Shall I ask for a forfeit, before I let you go?”

  “Don’t you hurt my Glory!” Essie flew across the kitchen to clutch Glory’s waist, peering up at her with anxious eyes.

  “Sweet pea, I wouldn’t think of hurting your Glory,” he said, looking down at Essie with a half smile touching his lips. “In fact, I’d skin anyone who tried to hurt her. Between you and me and Buddy, we’ll be taking good care of our Glory. Is that a deal?”

  Essie grinned, her worry gone. “Is Glory yours, too? She’s been mine and Buddy’s for a long time, but we can share her.” She glanced to where the door slammed behind Buddy as he entered the kitchen.

  “I suspect she belongs to all three of us,” Cade said smoothly. “Although, when a man marries a woman like I’m gonna marry Glory today, there’s a special bond that forms. It’s different than the way Glory loves you and Buddy, but that part will never change. You’ll always be Glory’s kin, just like she told you the other night. Remember?”

  Essie nodded, and when Buddy came up to join the others, he put his arm around Essie’s shoulders. “Glory ain’t going anywhere just because she’s gonna marry up with Cade, Essie. It’ll just be better, ‘cause Cade will be part of our family, too.”

  Cade winked at Buddy, and the boy grinned, a wide smile that somehow enclosed the two of them in a relationship. Cade reached one arm for Buddy and drew him close, then nodded at Essie to join the circle. In so doing he was forced to release his hold on Glory, but his lips formed a single word she could not mistake.

  Later.

  She blushed, but entered into the four-way embrace he had instigated, her arm encircling Essie and bringing her closer. The little girl’s smile was wide, her eyes shimmering with tears, and Glory felt her own throat close up as she fought the onset of tears that threatened.

  “Don’t you girls dare to cry this morning,” Cade said. “This is a happy day and we’re all going to have a good time. Now, get into your best clothes, young’uns, and you, too, Miss Glory. We’re going to a wedding.”

  Cade had put a box in the back of the wagon for Essie to sit on, lest she soil her dress on the boards of the wagon. She propped herself primly, looking down at her dress, the skirt starched and pressed, her shoes cleaned by Cade till they shone. “I shoulda had a hat,” she whispered to Buddy, who sat next to her, and he just laughed and shook his head at her foolishness.

  “We’ll have to get you one at the store,” Cade said, overhearing from the wagon seat. He glanced down at Glory. “You need a hat, too?”

  “No. Just a bit of veiling, maybe.”

  “Whatever you need, Glory. We’ll find you a pretty dress. That’s why we’ve started out so early. How about new shoes?”

  “These are good enough,” she said, though she tucked them back under the seat, for they were worn, not even a good cleaning doing much to hide their wear and tear.

  “Not good enough for a bride, Glory,” he whispered against her ear, and then laughed as she blushed.

  “I’ve been a bride before,” she said, holding her chin high. “Second time around doesn’t count.”

  “You’ve never been my bride before,” he told her. “And believe me, honey, it’s gonna count. More than you know.”

  Her blush was hotter this time, and Essie leaned forward on her box, twisting to peer up at Glory. “You look like you been out in the sun too long, Glory. Are you feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine, Essie.” Her glare in Cade’s direction was met with a chuckle.

  The trip went quickly, the horse seeming to know that a celebration was in order, for she trotted along without pause, harness jingling in time to the quickness of her gait. Before Glory was ready for it, the narrow road widened and they were on the main street through town, with stores and buildings on both sides, the sidewalks full of the Saturday crowd, all of whom seemed to pay special mind to the wagon from the Clark holding, wherein sat the man who’d taken over Harvey Clark’s place, the widow beside him.

  Behind them were the two children who were essentially orphans, but neither of them looked sad today, for they whispered together and looked around as if anticipating some great event.

  The wagon pulled up at the general store and all four occupants climbed down, Cade lifting Glory to the ground and hoisting Essie over the side, where she clasped Glory’s hand and murmured soft words audible only to the woman who sheltered her, holding her one hand and gathering her close with her other palm on Essie’s shoulder.

  Buddy stepped up to the door, opening it wide for the small family to walk inside. Glory waited for Cade’s direction. “Come on over to the counter,” he said softly, one hand at her waist. And then he smiled at the middle-aged woman who greeted them.

  “Well, hello there. It’s a pleasure to see you and the children, Mrs. Clark. And you too, Mr. McAllister. What can I do for you today?”

  Cade answered for her, for Glory seemed tongue-tied. “First off we have a short list of supplies we’ll need,” he said, handing the storekeeper’s wife the bit of paper with the list Glory had compiled earlier. “Did she remember to put tea on there, Mrs. Nelson?” he asked the lady, who was busily scanning the page.

  “Yes, sir, she surely did and I’ve got a new flavor in I think she’ll like.” Her smile was wide, as if she considered what profit this shopping expedition might bring to the store this morning.

  Cade stepped closer and made his desires known. “First off, our children need to look at the jars of candy and choose some to take home with them. And Glory needs a new dress and a pair of good shoes,” he said firmly, his hand at her waist allowing for no denial from her lips. Glory looked up at him with a glare that made him smile.

  At his words, Buddy and Essie grinned and headed for the row of heavy glass jars that held the candy supply, eager to decide on their treat.

  Cade turned to the woman behind the counter. “Glory needs some of that froufrou stuff you keep in those glass bins, too. Some underthings or whatever it is women wear beneath their dresses. Oh, and a nightgown.” He bent closer to her and whispered against her ear, “You’re all done with wearing feed sacks, sweetheart. So don’t argue with me or I’ll embarrass you right here in front of God and anyone else who might wander in.”

  Chapter Seven

  Glory pressed her lips together and looked at the wall behind the counter. Three shelves were filled with the glass bins he’d mentioned. How he knew what their contents were was a mystery, but if the man was determined to buy things for her, she might as well enjoy the experience of being pampered. It was new to her and she suspected she might just wallow in the joy of it.

  “Well, let’s see what we have in a dress to suit you, Mrs. Clark.” The woman took down two bins and lifted folded garments from within, the first a white batiste fabric with a scattering of lilac-colored flowers over the expanse of skirt and the bodice. A white ruffle formed the collar and the sleeves were puffed and fitted with the same ruffling.

  It was more than Glory had ever hoped to own, for her dresses were plain and serviceable, such as a housewife would wear. She’d made most of them herself, and a store-bought garment was a luxury to her way of thinking.

  “Hmm … I think I have another just like it in a smaller size. This one looks to be a little large. Glory’s just a mite of a thing, ain’t she?” the storekeeper’s wife asked Cade with an arch look. She sorted through the box and found the dress she’d decided might fit and laid it before Glory on the counter.

  Her breath caught in her throat as Glory held up the garment before her. She need not look further, for the dress she held was perfect. She gazed up at Cade to see his grin aimed in her direction. “Will that one do?” he asked as the storekeeper’s wife took the dress and shook out the dainty yards of fabric, holding it up beneath Glory’s chin, cocking her head to one side with a smile of
approval on her lips.

  “Looks like it ought to fit you just fine, Mrs. Clark. Would you like to try it on?”

  “Let me take a good look at it,” Glory said, gathering the garment before her and holding it against her waist, measuring the width of it. “I think this will do,” she said, brushing her hand down the front of the dress. She smiled at Cade then, her cheeks rosy as she folded the dress and placed it on the counter.

  “Thank you, Cade,” she whispered.

  “How about something for Essie?” he asked quietly.

  “Perhaps a new pinafore for her to wear over her dress. She can use it on Sundays, too. Her old one is too small and she’s been without for a while.”

  “Well, no longer,” Cade told her firmly. “Get whatever she needs, and pick out some froufrou while we’re here right in front of the glass boxes.”

  She nodded, unable to speak for the pure pleasure that rippled through her as four different boxes were deposited before her. The woman behind the counter smiled, pleased at the obvious generosity of the man who made no bones about wanting to spend his money on Glory Clark. Her hands went unerringly to the first bin, this one containing petticoats, one of which she held up for Glory’s inspection. It was wide and full, the skirt hemmed with lace, the waist tied with ribbons. Beneath it in the same bin was a stack of chemises, both lacy and sheer, and the first one she held up made Glory blush with the thought of Cade seeing her garbed in such a thing.

  He only nodded his approval at Mrs. Nelson, and she placed it atop the petticoat on the counter. “Better give us a couple more of those,” Cade said in an undertone, his glance at Glory giving her notice that he would not be swayed from his purpose.

  “Stockings?” Glory asked quietly, and was pleased with the woman’s choice of three pair, one white, two of them pale brown and more suited to everyday wear.

  Cade took her arm then and led her to where stacks of shoe boxes lined another counter, small pictures on the ends divulging the contents to the shoppers who viewed them. He picked up a box with low-cut slippers showing on the label and opened it before Glory’s expectant eyes. They were dainty, a far cry from the serviceable and sturdy boots she wore every day. Glory’s eyes lit up as she surveyed the shoes in Cade’s hands.