Chapter 6

Jamie POV

I woke up before the sun, and as usual, I began to plan my day before I even crawled out of bed. I had my own space inside the bunkhouse, being the ranch foreman had its perks. The others shared a sleeping space with cots along each wall. My room was small, but I didn’t need much. Just a bed, a writing desk and a night stand that held the ewer and basin. Today’s agenda included bringing in the twenty steers born this year for branding. They had just weaned a few weeks ago and we needed to get them added to the herd so they could acclimate before winter set in. After the branding, which would take most of the morning, we needed to ride fence again. I wanted to take a look at the spot that was damaged yesterday. Following that, I wanted to check on Mrs. Beecham. Yeah, I needed to think of her that way. It was the only thing I could do. I was an honorable man and she wasn’t mine.

I heard the others moving around and decided to crawl out of bed and get the day started. I joined the others in the common area of the bunkhouse and put on the coffee. None of us could start the day without at least one cup of coffee. Some days it took two cups to get us going. With the coffee on, I turned to the men and said, “Here’s our plan for today: First, get the steers in and get them branded. Second, ride every inch of fence. Something or someone has been messing with the fence line and we need to ensure it isn’t malicious intent. Third, time allowing, let’s meet back here before supper and make a list of supplies we need from town. I will probably be making a trip to town for Mrs. Beecham. My guess is that she will start cooking at the big house and I doubt there are any supplies in the house. Any questions?”

Walt looked up at me, smirked and said, “Two things. First, I can guess why you would want to help Mrs. Beecham. But be careful, son. You know that won’t work out in your favor.”

Before he could say anything else, I cut him off, “I won’t deny that Mrs. Beecham is a looker. She is. However, I have a job to do and that is to take care of this ranch and if Mrs. Beecham needs supplies, then I will go get them.” I was grinning like a fool and they could all see how I felt, but they knew that I wouldn’t touch her. As Walt said, it wouldn’t work out. “What is the second thing, Walt?”

“I might have a theory about the fence line. But I want to talk with you about it in private. I could be wrong,” he said cautiously.

Cookie spoke up and said, “I imagine we are all thinking the same thing about the fence line. Maybe each of us should visit with you Jamie, in private. And if our theories are the same, maybe we can regroup and make a plan together. What do you say?”

“Sounds good. Walt, why don’t you and I head for the steers together and we can chat on the way. Cookie, you and I can herd them back to the main group and chat then. Bo, you can show me where the fence was damaged yesterday. Then this evening, if we all seem to be on the same page, we can talk as a group,” I reasoned out loud, making our plans for the day. The men all nodded in agreement.

Cookie stood and said, “Well, with that decided, I had best get started on our breakfast. Give me just a bit and I will have it ready.”

“Thanks, Cookie. I am going to head out to the barn to feed the horses before we start our day,” I replied as I rose and headed for the door. I opened the door, looking back at them to see them all nodding in agreement and collided with a warm body. “Ooofff”, I mumbled as I turned and grabbed for the body in front of me. “Mrs. Beecham? Are you okay? What on earth are you doing here at this hour? I would think after traveling so far you would still be abed,” I replied, my words coming rapidly as I tried to regain my composure. Having her in my arms again was a wondrous feeling but I quickly let her go, seeing that she had once again found her footing.

“Good morning, Mr. Smythe. Gentlemen,” she said, nodding to the others. “I came for several reasons. First, Mr. Cookie, thank you for the stew last night. It was delicious and a welcome meal after living on tack and quick meals for the last several weeks,” she smiled at him in appreciation. I could relate, Cookie was definitely our salvation when it came to mealtimes.

“You are most welcome, Ma’am. But the name is just Cookie. No mister about it. Much easier that way,” he gave her a lopsided grin that I could tell meant that she had now taken a special place in his heart. Hannah had another admirer to add to her growing list. I glanced back at her and she was still grinning ear to ear at Cookie’s comments and demeanor.

“Ahem, Mrs. Beecham, what else can we help you with,” I drew her attention back to me. Although I wanted her attention and wanted to spend time with her, I was fearful that if Beecham found her here it would not be pleasant for her.

“Right, yes. I was wondering if you men had any eggs, bacon, bread, and some lard you could spare. I need to make breakfast for myself ...and my husband,” she stuttered after saying the word husband, “and the kitchen in the house is unfortunately bare.”

“Yes, ma’am. We surely do have extras. However, if you like, I am happy to add extra portions to what I am just preparing for the boys,” Cookie answered and moved toward the stove as if to add more to what he was preparing.

“Oh no, Cookie. I would very much like to cook in my own kitchen. I just need a few things to get me started this morning, if you please,” she responded, as if she was embarrassed to even be asking for supplies. She had to know it wasn’t her fault the kitchen wasn’t stocked. Beecham didn’t concern himself with what he considered women’s work and cooking definitely fit in that category as far as he was concerned. If he truly cared for Hannah, he would have seen to every one of her needs, including stocking the kitchen, but we all knew he hadn’t.

“If you are sure, Ma’am. I will gather what you need, give me just a few moments,” Cookie turned his back on her and began pulling together what she needed to prepare breakfast. While he did that, I turned back to her and asked again, “Anything else do you need?”

“Um, yes, when will you be going into town for supplies? I will need a few things and I want to have my list prepared,” she replied as quietly. “I have a few things that I will need right away, if possible.”

“I was planning a trip tomorrow, if that is soon enough,” I stated, watching her eyes. For one instance, I saw a flash of worry and then it disappeared. I wondered what brought that on and why would she be afraid of not having supplies before tomorrow?

“I suppose that will have to do,” she mumbled. She started pacing and then more quietly, I assume, so that no one would hear her talk to herself, “how am I to make the solution without the proper ingredients? I only found thyme and lavender in the kitchen.”

What solution? What is she trying to make? “Mrs. Beecham, is there something that you need sooner than tomorrow? It is possible that we may have it somewhere on the ranch,” I was trying to be helpful but I had to know what she was planning.

She stopped pacing, looked up at me with a partial frown on her face, hesitated briefly before leaning toward me and in a soft, quiet voice explained, “I have a tea that I like to drink and I also have a need for a medicinal solution of a private nature. I would ask that you speak to no one about this, most especially my husband.” More loudly so the other men could hear her, “I am in need of medicinal alcohol, baking soda, honey and a flower called Queen Anne’s Lace.”

“Mrs. Beecham, I can get those for you as well. How much do you need?” Cookie was watching her with a look in his eye. He glanced at me and slightly nodded, telling me he was certain he knew what she was about. I would ask him later in the day. “Cookie, if you can gather what Mrs. Beecham needs, I will continue with my chores,” I nodded back at him and turned to look at Hannah, the worried look on her face now gone. What on earth is she doing? I tipped my hat in her direction and went to the barn.

I greeted the horses and gave an apple to Smoke. “Hey, boy. Did you sleep well? What am I going to do when you decide you have had enough of this life? Huh? You were the last gift that Momma and Pa gave to me before they passed on. We have been through a lot together, right boy? We’re going to get to the bottom of what happened that day. What are we missing?” I continued chatting with my horse. I knew he couldn’t answer me, but for some reason talking to him seemed to help me work things out in my head.

“Ahem.”

I turned to the voice, startled. Hannah stood in the doorway of the barn. The sun was breaking over the horizon and her silhouette was framed in the golden red hues of early morning.  “Ma’am”, tipping my head, I walked to the doorway to be near her. She had a look of embarrassment on her face that made her cheeks an even deeper red than usual. I had a feeling that she needed something else and she didn’t want the others to know.

“Mr. Smythe, I am also in need of a length of sheepskin. I only need about this much,” she said as she held her hands measuring a length of roughly six inches, no longer than one of my hands. I don’t know if she could blush any more than she already had, but I could have sworn her face was so red at this point that if I didn’t know any better, I would say she was overheated from sun stroke.

“Now, what on earth do you need that for? Sheepskin is thin and not good for much,” I countered, trying to get her to tell me what she was doing.

“It has many uses, and why I need it is not any of your concern. Now, do you have any or not?” her embarrassment now shifted to ire as she became frustrated with my questioning. I chuckled at her response and moved toward the side of the barn where the bandages and medical supplies were located. We kept them there for the animals.

“I was just teasing, Mrs. Beecham. I have some right here. If you need more, just come into the barn and get some. You don’t need to ask,” I told her, and then proceeded to show her where it was kept and then I cut her the length that she needed. As I handed her the sheep's skin, our fingers touched and I swear the sparks flew and once again I was gut punched.

“Thank you, Jamie,” she said quietly. She gasped and then looked up at me, “I’m sorry, Mr. Smythe, I shouldn’t have been so informal.” She looked down at the ground as if she had made a huge mistake. “But I just want to thank you for your help. You have no idea how much your kindness means to me. I would ask for your discretion as well. Please do not speak of my request to my husband.”

Ever so quietly I whispered, “Hannah, you can tell me anything. I won’t tell him. I promise. Your secret, whatever it is, is safe with me. And for the record, I like it when you call me Jamie.” I so badly wanted to reach out and touch her face, to make her look me in the eye. But I forced my hands to stay at my sides, and I even took a step back from her, the temptation to touch her growing greater by the second.

She didn’t say a word, just nodded her head, and turned and left the barn. Her arms full of her supplies, I watched as she walked across the yard and made her way back into the house. I stood there for another moment before I made my way back to the bunk house hoping that Cookie had breakfast prepared. As I reached the door of the bunkhouse, I heard the men talking, “What is she using that stuff for Cookie?”

“Can’t rightly say, there could be any number of things,” came the reply.

“You know, I heard tell that a woman poisoned her husband with Queen Anne’s Lace and alcohol,” Walt stated, as if he really didn’t care either way.

“That sweet lass, no way. She ain’t about killing Beecham. But as I said, I can’t rightly say what she is doing. Could be something as simple as a stomach ailment and the homemade remedy was prescribed by her doctor before she arrived,” Cookie countered matter of factly.

I walked into the bunkhouse and shut the door, “breakfast ready?”

“Just now.” Cookie told us as we all made our way to the table. Once seated, we began to dig into the grits, eggs, bacon, biscuits and jam. Typical meal for us in the bunkhouse. Quick and easy, so we could fill up and then get to work. On a cattle ranch this size, we didn’t have time to sit around and eat elaborate meals.

“Due to the all the busyness of the day, lunch will be tack and biscuits. Hope that’s okay with you boys,” Cookie commented in between bites.

“That’s fine, Cookie. What are you planning for supper?” I responded before taking another swig of the hot coffee that was waiting for me when I walked in.

“Probably gonna do steaks and potatoes. We got some of those steaks left. I might take a couple up to the house for Mrs. Beecham to prepare, since the kitchen ain’t stocked as it should be.”

“I am sure she will appreciate that and hell yeah, to the steaks. My mouth will be watering all day!” I smirked at him. Yup, I was right, Hannah had another admirer, maybe even a protector.

Walt and Bo joined in agreement with me about the steaks for dinner. After that, the conversation waned as we dug into our meal to fill up for the day. Today would be a day for answers. Answers about Hannah, I hope. But I knew for sure that today I would learn if I could trust Cookie and Walt with the information about Beecham. Would these men help me reclaim this land? And if so, what would Hannah think?