Libbie_Bride of Arizona Page 10

  Clearing his throat, he took a step to the side and turned to lift the breadbox, which was heavier than he’d expected. “I’ll put this in the back of the buggy. Meet me out front?” Without waiting for an answer, he strode through the house to the front door then onto the wide porch. He flipped down the front side and peeked into the box. A checkered cloth covered whatever was inside, but a savory scent teased his nose. His wish was that at least one person, other than his family, would be willing to taste her strange meat pies.

  After securing the breadbox in the storage area of the buggy, he was ready to hand up Libbie into the seat. The smile she gave him did little to lower his speeding pulse.

  “I see you’re using a different horse than Sparky. What is this one’s name?”

  Dell chuckled at the thought of putting his energetic gelding into the harness. “This one is Cocoa, named for her color. She’s a sweet mare and one that might suit you for riding.” A flick of the reins set the horse into an easy trot.

  “Do you have a ledger somewhere that lists all the animals and their names?” She turned and gazed at him. “Every time I turn around, I feel like I’m meeting someone new or seeing something I haven’t before.”

  For a person who’d lived more than half his life on the same ranch, Dell couldn’t imagine what that situation was like. “The information’s not in just one book, but I can gather what you’re asking for. Remember, you don’t have to learn everything right away. There’s plenty of time.” And I’m here to help you.

  To the west, the sun lowered to the top of Thumb Butte and looked like it radiated from a rocky pedestal. The backdrop was a beautiful sky of blues, purples, and golds.

  “Oh, isn’t that pretty? I just love watching sunsets, don’t you?” Libbie twisted her body to the side to face the view.

  The press of her hip and rump warmed his thigh, a reassuring gesture that showed her growing ease at being close to him. Dell grinned. “One of my favorite ways to end the day.”

  ****

  Before long, the buildings of Prescott came into view. Libbie looked around, wide-eyed, not knowing what to expect. More people moved along the boardwalks than on her first day in town. She suspected their destination, the Harvest Dance, would be unlike any she’d ever attended. All afternoon, the worry had nagged at her awareness that she wouldn’t know the steps of the dances here in America. Maybe Dell didn’t like to dance, and she’d be free to visit with Maida or study what musical instruments were being played.

  “Whoa.” Dell stopped the buggy in front of his parents’ house. “I suspect the livery is full so I’ll leave Cocoa here until I know for sure.” He climbed down and walked around the back to help her out. “The whole family will walk together so you can go inside until we’re ready.”

  Libbie relished the strong grip with which he held her hand. His assistance was always close by when she needed it─and she was beginning to rely on him more and more. “All right.” As soon as she stepped onto the porch, Libbie heard the door open.

  “Miss Libbie, you’re here.” Maida moved onto the porch, grabbed her hand, and pulled her forward.

  “Come inside, over here by the light. Let me see your blouse.” Maida touched the lace edging and ran her fingers over the back inset. “The cut is so flattering. Of course, your tiny figure would look wonderful in any design. Do you remember what company offered this pattern?”

  Maida’s enthusiasm was a bit overwhelming, and Libbie struggled to keep up with her torrent of questions. “I’m not aware of the pattern or company. My mother’s modiste sewed all my clothes, and this is from a couple years ago.”

  “A personal modiste, how wonderful.” Maida’s eyes rounded, and she clapped a hand to her cheek.

  Here was a person who would know the value of ostrich feathers. Eyeing her sister-in-law, Libbie wondered if Maida had any personal savings and if she might be interested in a business opportunity.

  Dell stepped into the house. “Maida, slow down. Give Libbie a chance to answer. I could hear your questioning out on the boardwalk.”

  “Don’t tease, Dell.” She waved a hand at her brother. “You have no idea how exciting it is to have someone new in our circle of acquaintances. Oh, I should say family because we’re now sisters by marriage.” A wide smile spread, and she clasped her hands against her chest. “Mama was on the decorating committee and Daddy tagged along. I waited to walk together with you two.”

  The three moved outside and the women followed behind as Dell carried the breadbox.

  Maida leaned close. “So, how are you liking being married? Or maybe I shouldn’t ask that questionˮ—she giggled—“because we’re talking about one of my brothers.”

  Libbie thought about how to word her response. Am I ready to discuss our building relationship? “Marriage is an adjustment that will continue for a while.”

  After the trio rounded the corner, they were joined by others walking in the same direction.

  Maida turned her attention to greeting the people she knew. She waved a short brunette close. “Trudy, have you met my sister-in-law, Libbie?”

  The woman squinted her gaze and stared at Libbie. “I didn’t know either of your brothers had married.”

  Bobbing her head and smiling, Maida linked her arm into Libbie’s. “This is Dell’s bride.”

  As Libbie turned to greet the woman, she noticed Dell glance over his shoulder and grimace. Wonder why? A question to be asked at a later time.

  Once she stepped into the hall, Libbie was caught up in the beat of the dancer’s feet and the sweet strings of the fiddle. Her body swayed with the tempo, and she couldn’t stop her toe from tapping.

  Dell looked over his shoulder. “Where should your food go on the table?”

  “Why does it matter?” Lifting her head, she stretched onto her toes to look for a way through the crowd and see what the instruments looked like.

  Stopping, he turned. “Dishes are grouped by type. So I’m not sure where to put this—with the desserts or the main dishes?”

  His question filtered into her awareness, and she pulled her gaze away from the action. This should be her job─to set out the food from their ranch. She flashed him a smile and stepped close, reaching for the platter. “The music caught me, but I’ll do it now.” As she walked toward the long row of tables covered with dishes and pans, she double-stepped her boots and swung her hips.

  Hazel waved from the middle of the table. “Good to see you, Libbie. What do you have under the cloth there?”

  “Dell says there’s a particular order.” She gazed at round dishes with colorful vegetables, square pans with yellow or brown breads, platters with slices of meat, and fried chicken. Farther along the table were a variety of cakes, pies, and cookies. She scooted aside a couple dishes and slid the platter into the empty space. “So my dish goes here.” With a flourish, she pulled off the cloth to display the mound of meat-filled pastries.

  Hazel leaned forward, her nose crinkled as she studied the golden-brown half-circles. “What is it, dear?”

  “A traditional dish from Australia─meat pies. I hope you and your friends enjoy them.”

  Dell came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Traditional, huh?” He reached around her side to select one and took a small bite. His eyes widened and he mumbled, “Mmm” before nodding and taking a bigger bite.

  Seeing his happy expression filled her with satisfaction. Libbie thought of her friends who’d helped her salvage this night. Jomo’s boomerang skill had provided the three jackrabbits. Then, in a flurry of skinning and cutting, she worked with him and Pete to strip the meat, make the gravy, toss in vegetables, and then fill the pastry circles Pete had ready. No lie was stated when she claimed the dish as her contribution, but she would never have known the portions or seasonings.

  She picked up a pie and wended through the crowd until she reached the edge of the dance floor. Closing her eyes, she took a bite, tasting the familiar mix of crusty pastry and stewed meat
. Immediately, she pictured her brothers─Larz, Deman, and Knox—and the wide open prairie spaces. The pie honored them and the life they’d shared. The music seeped into her soul, and she shimmied her shoulders. Popping the last bite into her mouth, she licked her fingers clean before reaching into the bag slung over her neck. She pulled out her mbira and moved to the closest empty chair. Although the tune being played was unfamiliar, she strummed the metal tines in a backbeat, getting lost in the entangling notes. Being a part of the melody fueled her spirit, and she swayed, grinning.

  “Libbie.”

  The deep voice broke her connection, and she blinked, focusing on her handsome husband standing opposite her with a hand extended.

  He wants me to dance? With some reluctance, she tucked away her thumb piano and allowed Dell to pull her to her feet. “I don’t know the steps.” She glanced around and saw how everyone moved in synchronization. The moves looked regimented and complicated, not the free-form moves that made up her style.

  “That’s the good thing about a four-square dance. The caller tells you what move to make.” Smiling, he cocked his head toward the dance floor.

  This was her new life so she needed to do what she could to fit in. Heart pounding, Libbie squeezed his hand and stepped forward, ready to follow Dell’s lead. Watching the woman next to her, she tried to imitate the step, turned the wrong way, and stepped onto a person’s toes. “So sorry.”

  Dell came beside her, took her left hand, encircled her waist with his strong hand, and steered her counterclockwise. “This way. Two steps then shuffle your feet together.”

  She stumbled, but he tightened his hold. In the next sequence, she heard a call that sounded like an undecipherable foreign word and tried to imitate what the others did. Instead of executing the move, she tromped on Maida’s foot and tripped. When she looked up, she spotted Hazel turning red and looking away. Now she was embarrassing his family. Tossing a panicked look toward Dell, she turned, intending to find an empty chair on the sidelines.

  “Libbie, don’t leave.” Dell clasped her hand and settled a hand at her waist. Watching her, he smiled. “I saw you moving to the music earlier. So you have rhythm. Just close your eyes and move with the beat.”

  The patient tone warmed her deep inside. He’s helping me fit into his world. She bit back a smile. “I didn’t say I can’t dance, Dell. I just don’t know this type. I know how to waltz or do a quadrille or lancier set.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Maybe later you can teach me those steps. For now, keep your body loose and take your clue from the pressure of my hands.”

  Libbie did just that. She looked into Dell’s warm eyes, listened to the lilt of the fiddle strings and the percussion of a washtub drum, and let her body respond to her husband’s guidance. For the first time since her arrival as they worked together toward the same purpose, she felt like they were a married couple.

  Chapter Eight

  The alarm rang, and Libbie sat upright, brushing her hair from her cheeks. A faint glow of dawn pinkened the horizon. This new routine of rising early and preparing some type of food for Dell each morning was more enjoyable than she’d expected. Over the past three weeks, she’d burned the flapjacks and presented him with doughy biscuits, but she was becoming adept at frying eggs.

  Still, Dell had eaten each and every meal with no complaints. Although he insisted on being the one to brew coffee each morning. Years as a tea drinker meant Libbie had no skill estimating the amount of needed grounds.

  Although she’d never enjoy the chore, she knew the basics of doing laundry so they would never be forced to wear grimy clothes. After a quick wash with water so cold she shivered, she pulled on her riding outfit, stuffed her feet into boots, and then headed downstairs. Today, she wanted to try the recipe Maida gave her for sausage, potato, and eggs.

  Since the dance, Libbie and Maida had several conversations about the feather business and had struck up a partnership. As she opened a jar of canned apples to put into a bowl, she did a little dance. The lumber for the shelter was due to be delivered today. Soon her birds would finally be secure and warm.

  “There’s a pretty sight in the morning.”

  “Oh.” Libbie whirled and then smiled at seeing Dell standing in the doorway, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt. More and more each day, she’d seen the heat in her husband’s eyes and knew their month-long wait on becoming intimate would soon be over. “I’m almost done here.” She grabbed a plate, scooped up the egg mixture, and then forked up a slice of golden toast from the shallow pan.

  He took the coffeepot out to the water pump on the porch to fill. “Would you like having a pump at the kitchen sink like at my parents’ house?” After setting the coffee to brew, he slid into his chair at the table, lifted the plate toward his nose, and sniffed. “Smells good, and thanks.”

  Libbie carried her tea and plate to the dining table and sat. “I hadn’t thought about it. Having a pump closer to the stove would be nice. But I don’t want to make demands.” She put a bite of egg in her mouth and chewed. Hm, not too runny.

  “This is your house, too.” He held a full fork right in front of his mouth and stared across the table. “You know that, right?”

  Not wanting to contradict his words, she just took another bite of food. Libbie wasn’t sure what exactly was missing, but this place still didn’t feel like home. Her inability to follow the caller’s directions at the dance still smarted. Even though, Dell had been gracious about telling her it didn’t matter. But she hadn’t liked disappointing him, and that worry stayed with her always.

  “We’re done tending the hooves on this group. Today, we’ll be moving them out to the west pasture and bringing in another couple dozen at the end of the day. Pete has packed some sandwiches for the group.”

  “I see. Well, I should have a surprise for you when you return.”

  His eyebrows rose. “For me?”

  “Or maybe I should say, a surprise will be here.”

  “You’re being mysterious.”

  She tilted her head over the rim of the cup and smiled. Anticipation jangled her muscles and she hopped up, ready to be done with breakfast. Libbie gathered her plate and then sashayed toward him to collect his. Since hearing the music at the dance, she’d made time to play for the ostriches each day and at odd moments, she’d break into dance. Bending, she brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Have a good day, liefje.”

  With a wide grin, Dell snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

  She squealed and set down the plates.

  Chuckling, he buried his nose in her hair. “Same for you. Sometimes I wish my chores didn’t take me away from you, Libbie. I think if we spent more time together the closeness would come.”

  Moments like this had become more frequent, and she enjoyed his touches and kisses well enough. Her pulse always raced, and often her cheeks flushed with heat. But she was unsure about opening her heart to a person who really didn’t understand her. She laid a hand on his cheek and looked into his rich brown eyes. “We each have our responsibilities. And the month isn’t over yet.”

  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and then set her away from his body. “Right you are. I will see you before sunset.”

  “Until then.” She watched him walk outside, admiring the breadth of his shoulders and the confidence in his stride. Then she fell back into the chair he’d vacated. How could she know this marriage was the right choice?

  Hours later, Libbie ran a cloth over the table in the parlor when the first zig-zag of lightning flashed. She stiffened and moved close to the window so she could stare at the heavy gray clouds. The thunder boom came in less than ten seconds, and she cringed. The young ostriches were the flightiest, and she couldn’t risk them bolting. She dropped the dust rag and dashed upstairs. Within seconds, she stripped and then draped her seshweshwe cloth over her neck, across her breasts, and wrapped the rest of the length around her hips. Looping her mbira bag over her shoulder, she ran down the stairs
and outside, heading straight for the temporary pen.

  From across the yard, she could see the birds moved with stiff steps, and their heads jerked and bobbed. Not good. She pulled the balafon away from the corral rails and clasped the mallet. Closing her eyes and swaying, she rang out a tune on the various-length pieces of bamboo as she sang. Feeling the dirt under her feet and moving in a rhythm with an ancient chant made her heart light. She could almost pretend she was in South Africa and her family was whole…and she was herself again.

  The air was heavy with moisture but the wind pushed the clouds farther north. Another flash, and a longer interval stretched until the boom sounded.

  After a long inhale, she sang louder, making her movements bigger. The birds moved closer and watched her with large, curious eyes. She danced into the flock, twisting and turning among the birds, whispering their names, “Lady and Koning, Gulden, Diamant.” She ran a hand over their fluffy feathers to calm each with her trailing touches. “Zilveren and Juweel.”

  Her notes rose and sank then trilled, and the birds swayed their necks. Arching her arms high over her head, she hunched forward then flung back her arms, stamping her feet and pounding out a circle in the dirt. The untamed rhythms of Africa moved through her body, and she danced on.

  The clouds hung low, but the lightning had moved far off into the distance with only an occasional strike.

  One by one, the birds folded their long legs and lowered themselves to the ground to a resting position.

  Good, they didn’t bolt. Libbie turned, intending to continue playing on the balafon to keep them soothed, and stopped.