He liked Jane. Always had. She had been in school with Hays until fifth grade, when Jane’s mother died. Crockett felt a special empathy for her, because he had lost his own mother, too. He had wondered how she was doing after she left school, but saw her only occasionally, at church, in town, or on the range helping her father. She had grown into an attractive, hardworking young woman. He had even entertained thoughts of courting her, but her father was a huge drawback.
Boyd was well-known in the community, and heartily disliked. Pa wouldn’t like it a bit if one of his sons courted Boyd’s daughter. That fact alone had made him dismiss the notion any time it entered his mind.
Still, Jane must trust him. Crockett felt flattered that she had told him about the money. She hadn’t even told Ben. She must think he had some good judgment. However, she had asked for Chisholm’s help through him, not his own, so maybe she didn’t so much respect him as see him as a way to get the help she needed. Crockett scowled. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was that he was just handy for her, not special. As usual, he was not the one who was noticed in this crowd.
After supper, he pushed back his chair. “Whoever made that pie, it was mighty good.”
“Why, thank you!” Annie grinned at him. “I put by an extra one for the house-raising on Saturday.”
“We gonna have dancing that night?” Hays asked.
“Prob’ly so,” Crockett replied.
“I’d better practice up a little on my fiddle.” Hays smiled at Emma. “The only bad thing about it is, I can’t dance with my wife while I’m playing.”
“I guess I’ll have to settle for your brothers and the cowpunchers for partners,” Emma said.
Crockett laughed. “Don’t worry, Emma. I’ll make sure he gets a rest from playing for at least a couple of numbers. And chances are, one or two other fellas will bring their instruments.”
“I’ll take my banjo,” Houston said.
Coralee smiled. “It’ll be nice.”
Emma laid down her fork and stood. “I wish I could give Jane a pair of my shoes, but we’re not the same size. All she has is her working boots.” She shook her head and went into the kitchen.
Crockett strolled out onto the front porch. He’d had it easy, he supposed, despite the rigors of ranch life. He and his six brothers had never had to wonder where their next pair of shoes or their next meal would come from.
His father came out, stretching. “Where you headed?”
“Just thought I’d take a look at my paint horse. I rode him pretty hard today.”
“You and the boys get those yearlings up to the north range?”
“We did.” Crockett hesitated. “Pa, we could donate some lumber for the Haymakers’ house. Make it easier for them.”
His father grunted and leaned against one of the pillars that held up the porch roof. “I don’t have a mind to do anything extra for Boyd Haymaker. The way I hear it, he’s the one that burnt the house down. And we all know he’s shiftless. Doesn’t do any good to give a man like that a boost. He’ll just waste it.”
Crockett sighed and looked off toward the hills, where the sun was setting. “I know Boyd’s lazy, Pa, and he doesn’t take care of his place like he should. But think of Jane and Ben. They’re good people. It’s not their fault their pa won’t carry his end of the load.”
His father was silent for a long moment, then scratched his chin through his short beard. “You’re probably right. Those kids are smart. I always felt bad for ’em after their ma died. She was the only good influence they had.”
“But they’ve got good neighbors. If we help them now, Jane and Ben won’t forget it.” His father stirred, and Crockett said quickly, “I’m not saying we should build them a complete new house. Just help out with a load of lumber and some elbow grease. Pa, those two could use a hand about now. Ten years from now, they might be leaders in the community.”
“That’s a stretch. But all right, I’ll pitch in. Take ’em a load of boards if you want. Tell John at the sawmill to put it on my account.”
“Thanks, Pa.”
His father inhaled deeply. “And tell the girls they can look in Victoria’s trunk for some things for the girl. I can’t feature a woman running a ranch, but I guess she’s doing a man’s work.”
“She works harder than I do.”
“That’s not sayin’ much.” His father laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Joshin’, son. You don’t think the brides will want that stuff of your mother’s?”
“They all seemed willing to give something to Jane.”
“Well, I guess that gal needs a dress if there’s gonna be dancing Saturday.”
Crockett grinned. “That’s nice, Pa. I’ll throw in a nice shirt for Ben.”
“He might not want to wear your duds. Some of ’em are downright garish.”
“I’ll pick out one of the tamer ones. You going?”
“Oh, I suppose I’ll go pound a few nails. I don’t know as I’ll dance. I’m slowing down these days.”
Satisfied, Crockett nodded and ambled toward the corral.
Jane did her best to keep up with Ben in peeling the logs, but her brother was faster.
“Are you sure it’ll be all right to use green wood?” She glanced toward their father, who was sitting in the shade of the barn.
“It’s better’n nothing, ain’t it?” Pa said.
“Won’t it shrink and crack when it dries?” Ben asked.
“Might split some,” Pa conceded. “Still better’n sleepin’ in a cave, eh?”