A Handyman for Helen Page 3

  With the fabric and other sewing notions packaged up, Zeke walked outside with his arms loaded, trailed by Jack and Wynonna. Helen still didn’t say anything, but she followed them as they carried their purchases over to the wagon.

  “You figure the sawmill has pulled your order yet?” Jack asked.

  “I’m sure of it.”

  Jack nodded. “Let’s go, then. Maybe the ladies would like some tea at the hotel while we’re loading up. We’re bound to be several minutes—no need for them to be bored that whole time.”

  “Agreed.” Zeke looked up at the sky. Several more clouds had rolled in—it was a welcome sight. The ride back would be infinitely more comfortable than the ride coming in.

  They took the girls over to the Brody Hotel, promised to be back within the hour, then drove over to the sawmill. Zeke jumped right in and helped carry the wood to the bed of the wagon, stacking piece upon piece in the back. Within minutes, he was tired enough that he had to put all his focus on the task at hand just to keep moving, and it became much easier to push everything else from his mind. Everything else including women—all women. They were too much trouble.

  Chapter Three

  “All right, we’re alone now. Suppose you tell me what’s bothering you. In detail,” Wynonna said, staring at Helen across the table.

  Helen played with the handle of her teacup. The dining room at the hotel was quiet because they were between trains, and the waitress had assured them it was no bother for them to come in and rest for a while even if it wasn’t an official meal service. Helen liked it quiet. It was much better for her beleaguered brain.

  “I believe we were discussing a certain handyman a little while ago,” Wynonna continued. “One that you definitely don’t have feelings for.”

  “And I still don’t. Didn’t you see how he and the clerk at the general store were looking at each other? I almost felt like the rest of us were intruding on their private moment.”

  “I didn’t notice any such thing,” Wynonna replied. “And even if it were so, what difference does it make to you? I thought you’d decided to leave as soon as Margaret’s confinement is over.”

  “I did. And I’ve even considered getting a job here in town, maybe in this very hotel. But now . . .” Helen picked up her cup to take a sip, but put it back down instead. “Now I don’t know.”

  The waitress came back out of the kitchen and set a small plate of sandwiches on the table. “Excuse me. I hope you don’t mind my asking, but you’re the ladies from the Lazy Q, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right,” Wynonna answered.

  “We’ve heard that Margaret is under the weather, and we hoped you might have an update for us.” The girl motioned over her shoulder. “We all know her, and Ruth, our cook, is a special friend of hers.”

  “Of course. Does Ruth have a minute? Maybe we could all talk together,” Wynonna suggested.

  The girl slipped back into the kitchen, returning with not only the cook, but a few more waitresses as well. “I’m sorry for descending on you like this,” the cook said. She was a pretty young woman, perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two, with lovely green eyes. “We’re just concerned about Margaret. She used to work with us here, and we grew rather close.”

  “We understand,” Helen said. She looked from girl to girl, wondering what it would be like to work in a place where you felt so connected. It made her all the more interested in applying to be a waitress there. “Margaret has been put on bedrest for the time being, only getting up to deal with the most necessary things. We passed Dr. Wayment on the way into town—he said that if she does well, he might lift that restriction after a while. He seemed quite positive.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. Did he say exactly what’s wrong with her?” Ruth asked.

  Helen wasn’t sure. She glanced at Wynonna, who was more apprised of the situation than she was.

  “He didn’t go into details,” Wynonna said. “I think he was trying to be respectful of her privacy.”

  Ruth chuckled. “It’s good of him to be so careful, but I wonder if he realizes just how freely women speak with each other sometimes. I believe we’d all go mad if we didn’t have sisters or friends to share our troubles with.”

  Her comment struck a chord with Helen, who wondered if she should say anything. But then she decided not to, because it would be awkward. But then again, if she couldn’t ask Ruth, who could she ask? And she really did want to know, but . . .

  “I’d best get back to work, but thank you for the update,” Ruth said, pushing to a standing position. “I’ll ride out and see her the day after tomorrow—it’s my day off. And I’m sure I’ll see you both there as well.”

  Helen didn’t want to wait two days to ask her question. She’d have to act now. “Ruth, I wonder . . .”

  “Yes?”

  Helen laced her fingers together on top of the table, and Ruth sat back down. “What’s the matter?” she asked kindly.

  “I just wondered what you thought of Zeke,” Helen asked, as if she was back in school inquiring after a boy she liked.

  “Zeke? He’s wonderful,” Ruth said. “He’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever known.”

  Helen’s eyes widened. “He . . . he is?” Of course, Jack had said this very same thing, but men did have a tendency to stick up for each other. Hearing this from Ruth was a bit of a surprise. A person actually had to speak to be considered nice, didn’t they? And when they did speak, it was best if they weren’t so argumentative. All Zeke did, in Helen’s experience, was grunt, nod, and bicker. He was a caveman with a cowboy hat.

  “Yes. I made several good friends out there at the ranch, and he was one of the best.” Ruth studied her curiously. “Has something happened? You look troubled.”

  “No, nothing’s happened. But I am troubled.” Helen felt her walls of reserve come tumbling down. All of a sudden, she didn’t want to keep secrets any longer—she wanted advice from someone who might have more insight into the situation than she did. “You see, we came here as mail-order brides, thinking that we were going to be marrying five wealthy ranchers. When we got here, we learned that we’d been misled, and we cancelled our agreement.”

  Ruth nodded, a smile on her face. “The story’s being spread around town as we speak.”

  “That’s exactly what I was afraid of.” Helen shook her head. “I hope people don’t think the worst of us—that we only wanted our husbands’ wealth. There were multiple things about the situation that were misrepresented to us—how could we possibly go through with it after so many lies?”

  “You shouldn’t have to,” Ruth said, reaching out and touching Helen’s shoulder. “And I don’t think anyone’s expecting you to. From the rumors I’ve heard, everyone’s blaming the matchmaker, not you. And they’re glad you’re staying for a while.”

  Helen glanced over at Wynonna. “Goodness. Do they know everything there is to know about us?”

  “It would appear so,” Wynonna said with a chuckle.

  “But let’s go back to your question about Zeke,” Ruth said. “I’m quite curious now. Was he your intended?”

  “He was one of the five men who sent for a bride, yes,” Helen replied. “But we never drew up any sort of agreement as to who would marry whom.”

  “That’s wise. Then you could meet each other and decide from there,” Ruth said.

  “Exactly. Well, it would seem that Zeke and I have been put in each other’s paths quite a bit, and we did take a walk together our first day here, and so it could be assumed that if we were to split up into couples, he and I would be one of those couples, but given that we don’t like each other at all, that would be unlikely, so it doesn’t explain what’s been going on at all.”

  Ruth raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry—I didn’t catch a word of that. Could you please start again?”

  “I would, but I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say. And now he’s flirting with Miss Appleby, so even if I did like him—which I don’t—I’ve
lost my chance.”

  “Zeke is flirting with Miss Appleby?” Ruth shook her head. “Impossible. Zeke doesn’t flirt. He takes things like that far too seriously.”

  “But I saw it myself just now while we were buying the wrong fabric,” Helen said. “It was right there in front of my eyes.”

  “I think what we saw was Miss Appleby expressing interest in Zeke, not the other way around,” Wynonna interjected. “Eat a sandwich. You’re getting carried away.”

  Helen was not getting carried away. That would be most out of character for her, maybe even more than Zeke flirting, but she picked up a sandwich anyway.

  “I’m not sure what you saw, but I do know this—Zeke is a kind, gentle, good-hearted man who would never toy with someone’s emotions,” Ruth said. “You can trust that.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I do wish I could visit longer, but we have a train coming soon, and I need to finish preparing this meal. Will you stop by again another time? I’d love to get to know you a bit better—and to hear how this all plays out. I’d rather not hear it through the rumor mill.” She winked.

  “We’ll stop by,” Wynonna promised with a chuckle. Helen would have said something too, but her mouth was full.

  Ruth and the waitresses disappeared into the kitchen, and Helen swallowed. “What do you think? Do you believe her?” she asked as soon as she could speak.

  “Of course I believe her,” Wynonna replied. “We have no reason not to, and I already told you that I think Miss Appleby’s feelings are the stronger of the two. The thing is . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve seen Zeke looking at you, and he’s not at all disinterested.”

  “Looking at me? When? I’ve never noticed.” Helen felt her heart give an extra beat. Not that it mattered. He could look wherever he wanted. That’s why God made eyes that could roll around in their sockets, after all.

  “He only does it when you’re occupied with something else.”

  “Oh.” Helen took another bite of her sandwich. If Zeke was going out of his way to make sure she wasn’t looking at him so he could look at her without being caught, he was either trying to be considerate of her feelings, or he was being entirely too questionable. After all, what sort of respectable man would stare at a woman without her consent or even her knowledge? One who was up to no good—that was for certain.

  Wynonna chuckled and shook her head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You spend a lot of time trying to be on top of things, but now you’re faced with a situation you can’t control, and it’s clearly irritating you.”

  “Yes, I like being on top of things, but I’m not irritated. I’m curious and a little confused. It’s entirely different.”

  “Hmm. Yes, I can see that.” If only Wynonna didn’t look like she was enjoying this . . . “Let’s examine this further. You and Zeke go for a walk and can’t get along. You decide he’s not for you, and the two of you don’t speak to each other beyond a few words here and there. Then you see him getting along rather well with another pretty young woman, and suddenly, you’re disoriented and cranky and questioning your whole existence. Have I summed that up accurately?”

  “I’m not questioning my whole existence, but aside from that, yes.” Helen dropped her head. “What’s the matter with me, Wynonna?”

  “Let me ask you a question. Would it be so terrible if you decided to like him? Yes, we know you announced that you’re leaving as soon as possible, but is changing your mind the worst thing that could happen?”

  “It’s just . . .” Wynonna certainly did have a way of breaking through to the heart of the matter. Helen had to admire her for that. “If I changed my mind, wouldn’t I look foolish?”

  Wynonna fixed her with another one of those looks. She was rather good at that, too. “Is looking foolish the worst thing that could happen?”

  “I suppose not, but that’s how I was raised.”

  Wynonna glanced around, then back at Helen. “Perhaps I’m missing something, but I don’t see your parents anywhere. You’re on your own, Helen, and you get to make your choices now.”

  Helen nodded slowly. It was true—she wasn’t living under her parents’ roof anymore, and she wasn’t being held to their strict standards. If she changed her mind, if she decided that it was all right to have feelings for Zeke . . . No, looking foolish wasn’t the end of the world. She’d rather look foolish than make a mistake that she might regret for the rest of her life. What good was pride if she didn’t have happiness?

  But then again, was having feelings for Zeke the path to happiness? Even entertaining the thought was making her miserable, not happy.

  “I’ll think about that,” she said at last. “Oh, why do relationships have to be so confusing?”

  “I certainly don’t know,” Wynonna replied. “Perhaps so we’ll appreciate them more when we finally get them figured out?”

  Both girls turned when they heard men’s voices entering the dining room. Jack was saying, “So, do you think you’ll pay a call on Miss Appleby next time you’re in town?”

  “I think I might,” Zeke replied, then looked up and locked gazes with Helen.

  She swallowed.

  Well, that was that. If he was already planning to pay a call on Miss Appleby, there was her answer.

  She took another bite of sandwich. This one felt like sandpaper in her mouth.

  ***

  Zeke gave Helen a nod. There was his reason, his purpose for paying a call to Miss Appleby. He needed to tell her straight out that his feelings belonged somewhere else. Helen might not ever feel the same way about him, but that didn’t matter—he couldn’t let Miss Appleby think there was any sort of chance between them. It wouldn’t be fair to her. And as long as Zeke lived, he knew he’d belong to Helen. It likely meant he’d end up a lonely old bachelor, but so be it. He couldn’t give his heart away in pieces—it had to be all or nothing.

  It flattered him no end to think that Alice could be sweet on him. The whole idea was so outrageous that he’d taken a moment to talk to Jack about it, and Jack agreed that it was best to put an end to it as soon as possible. Zeke had wanted to turn around and head back to the store that very moment, but the clouds were really rolling in now, and there wouldn’t be time to get back on the road before the rain hit.

  Helen looked uncomfortable, and Zeke wondered if she could possibly know all the thoughts that were roiling around in his head. Not likely, of course—she must have been festering on some problem of her own.

  “Sorry to drag you out of here so quickly, but the storm’s threatenin’, and we should be on our way,” Jack told the ladies.

  “Of course,” Wynonna replied. “Have a quick sandwich first, though.”

  Each of the men took one, but neither of them sat down, choosing to remain standing while they ate. “Let’s go, then,” Zeke said as soon as he’d swallowed.

  “If you’re in that much of a hurry because of the storm, perhaps we should stay here and ride it out,” Helen suggested.

  “We could, but we’ll be fine as long as we don’t dawdle,” Zeke replied.

  “But how can you know that? It’s not as though any of us can predict the weather, can we?”

  Zeke leaned backward a little at her tone. He’d known Helen had a bark, but he hadn’t realized that it came with a bite. “If you’d rather stay, Miss Helen, I’m fine with that choice. We can put the wagon in the hotel’s barn.”

  She rose, almost knocking her chair over as she did so. “You think we’ll be fine, so let’s go.”

  He pulled in a deep breath. “This isn’t worth arguing about. If you’d like to stay, we’ll stay.”

  “I’d like to go. Let’s go.” She marched past him into the lobby, where she paid for the tea and sandwiches, then proceeded outside. He followed behind, wondering what on earth had gotten under her skin so badly. She’d been testy at the general store, but this was a whole ’nother level of testiness.

>   Jack helped the ladies up onto the wagon seat while Zeke mounted his horse, and they began the ride back to the ranch. They’d been able to fit all the lumber they needed in the back of the wagon, and they’d placed the packages of fabric and the other housewares on top of that. Everything was tied down and covered with a tarp, so if the rain did catch up with them, their goods would be protected. Once the house was built, they’d come back for the window glass. Zeke wanted to make sure that all his calculations were correct before he racked up that expense.

  Helen perched on the wagon seat with her arms folded, looking as dark as the clouds overhead. From the way she sat, Zeke might have thought she was cold, but the wind was quite warm even though it was overcast. She was angry, pure and simple, and he aimed to find out why before the day was over. He’d let her simmer for a bit, maybe even come to a boil, and then she’d be ready to talk. A woman like that couldn’t hold in her feelings forever.

  They’d only been on the road for fifteen minutes when they passed Dr. Wayment returning from his visit to the ranch. “She’s doing well,” he reported. “She says you’re all taking good care of her, so keep it up.”

  “We will,” Wynonna promised, and the doctor touched the brim of his hat as he continued on his way back to Topeka.

  Zeke turned in his saddle and watched the man go for a moment, envious of how much faster a lone rider could go than a wagon. He was tempted to ride up ahead as he’d done earlier—he’d welcome a break from Helen’s baleful glare—but that wouldn’t be right. Jack might run into some sort of trouble with the fully loaded wagon. With a shrug, Zeke adjusted his grip on the reins, struggling to keep the animal at a sedate pace. It wanted to run just as badly as he did.

  Another hour into the journey, a crack of lightning zipped across the sky, and rain began to pour down on them as though from a broken vessel. It wasn’t the light mist or gentle drizzle of a calm spring day—it was torrential and drenching. Zeke pulled his hat down snugly over his ears and turned up his collar, then twisted in his saddle to make sure the ladies were all right. Jack was taking off his jacket and draping it around the girls’ shoulders as they huddled together in the downpour. At least it was a warm rain.