“I suppose.” Ben stood and squinted toward the road. “Looks like Crockett Hart comin’.”
Jane stood and put her hand to the small of her back. She’d be sore tomorrow from all this bending over.
“It’s him,” she said. Crockett always wore a bright-colored shirt, and often as not a neckerchief of a different color. She wasn’t sure why he wore such flamboyant clothes, but sometimes she suspected he wanted to be noticed. She had no explanation for why he’d been over to their ranch nearly every day this week.
“Hey, Crockett,” Ben called with a wave.
Crockett trotted his flashy pinto gelding up to where they were working and jumped down. “Hi, Ben. Jane.” He turned around and nodded at Pa. “Mr. Haymaker.”
“Afternoon, Davy Crockett Hart. What brings you out here today?”
“Just wanted to tell you to expect a big turnout tomorrow and a load of lumber.”
“Lumber?” Jane asked.
Crockett grinned and nodded. “My pa told me to order it from the sawmill. I’ll be here bright and early with a wagonload.”
“No need for handouts,” Boyd said, not stirring from his spot in the shade.
Jane didn’t usually agree with Pa, but this was an unusual situation. “You’re doing too much,” she insisted.
Ben put his hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Crockett.” He gave his sister a sidelong glance. “That’s what Ma taught us to say, Janie. If someone does something nice for you, don’t make a fuss. Just say thank you and let them do it.”
Crockett grinned. “You’re welcome.”
Jane shook her head, not quite able to believe all this goodwill from neighbors who rarely came by the place before this week. “I admit I wondered how much we could do with the logs we’ve hauled. It isn’t enough for a cabin.”
Crockett pursed his lips and surveyed the logs they had peeled and the pile waiting for attention.
“You’ve done a lot, but you’re right. Maybe we can use the logs for one end of the house and frame up the other. And the finished lumber will make it nice inside.”
“How much do you think we’ll get done tomorrow?” Ben asked.
Crockett shrugged. “If there are plenty of men, we can probably frame it up and get the walls covered. Might not get to the roof or set the windows in.”
“Windows?” Jane said. “We can’t afford windows, Crockett.”
“Then hang a blanket over the holes until you can. But if we don’t frame them in, you’ll never put them in later.”
“You’re probably right.” She knew Pa would never go to the bother of it.
Ben took off his hat and wiped his brow. He walked toward the well. “You all want a drink?”
“Bring me one,” Jane said. When her brother was out of earshot, she leaned toward Crockett. “We do appreciate all this. I don’t expect we’ll ever be able to repay everyone, though.”
“Nobody wants you to.” Crockett turned and leaned against the stack of logs. “Look, I remember a little bit of what this place looked like before your mama died.”
Jane’s posture stiffened. “Ben and I do our best.”
“I know you do. But you got to admit, it was homier then. Prettier. Of course, a burnt-out house is never pretty, but I think you know what I mean. It was that way at our place, too, when my mama died.”
“Yeah?” She looked doubtful.
“Oh, yeah. Just because we’ve got more ranch hands than you and a cook to keep the meals coming, doesn’t mean we didn’t miss the feminine touch. It’s hard to lose your mother, Jane. I understand that.”
She thought about his words for a moment. “Your pa didn’t take it the way mine did.”
“Maybe. He was plenty disturbed, but I guess you’re right. He’s got a different temperament than your pa.”
Ben came over with a tin cup full of water and held it out to his sister. Jane took it and tipped it up, grateful for the liquid washing her raw throat, even if it wasn’t very cold.
“You want some, Crockett?” Ben asked.
“No thanks. I just came to drop off a few more things.”
Jane started to protest, but Crockett raised both hands, palms out, to stop her. “Now, don’t go gettin’ all het up about charity and such. My brothers want to bring their instruments tomorrow, and we thought we’d have a little dancin’ after, if you folks don’t mind.”
Startled, Jane looked at Ben. How long had it been since they’d attended any event that included dancing? She was pretty sure there had never been a dance at their ranch, at least not since she could remember.
“What do you think, Ben?”
“I think that’d be real nice,” Ben replied. “Maybe we should ask Pa.”
Jane pulled in a deep breath. “No, I think we’ll just tell him—after Crockett leaves. Less chance of him saying no that way.”
“Whatever you think.” Ben looked down at his filthy clothes. “We’ll have to wash every stitch we own.”