Chapter Six

It was getting late, and Rex didn’t know where Tillie was.

She had promised to meet him before dark to help gather acorns for Annamae’s famous Thanksgiving bread. But as the minutes ticked by, there was still no sign of Tillie. He knew Annamae would need time to dry and soak the acorns overnight to remove their shells and skins, then soak them again for a week to leech out the bitterness from the acorns. The family loved this tradition and the anticipation of biting into warm, nutty bread on Thanksgiving Day.

Rex looked around the yard once more, his jaw clenched as he willed Tillie to appear. He pulled out his timepiece and glanced at the current time. Where could she be?

“I’ll give her five more minutes and then I’m headed out,” Rex said to no one in particular.

The sound of a door squeaking, and light footsteps signaled that Annamae had stepped outside. He looked over his shoulder at his sister. Despite being weaker than most women in town because of having scarlatina, she was still one of the strongest women that Rex had ever known.

“Any sign of them?” she asked, placing a hand on Rex’s shoulder.

“Not yet. Where were they going?”

“George mentioned needing to go to the mercantile.”

“Hmm.” Rex harbored doubts regarding George’s explanation.

“I hear riders coming.” Annamae stepped off the porch and shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun.

“That’s coming from the wrong direction. It’s probably Pet.”

“There’s at least three.”

Rex watched as the riders moved closer and Baxter, Petunia and Peter came into view.

“Bax,” Rex greeted his brother. “What are you doing over here?”

“I thought you might need an extra set of hands. Pet mentioned you were gathering acorns today, and she wanted to learn how Annie turns them into flour. I told her it starts with looking at the ground.” Baxter chuckled. “It seems you are a little late getting started this year, Annie.”

“Well, when everyone is getting married or running off, it means I no longer have anyone to help me,” she replied, giving Rex a wink. “Good thing Rex is staying here. Come on in, the coffee’s hot. Sawyer’s inside. They’ve got five minutes and then Rex is leaving.”

“Who has five minutes?” Petunia asked, sliding off her horse.

“Tillie and George disappeared.” The thought really bothered Rex now that he said it out loud.

Petunia snorted. “I’d call that a blessing.”

“Petunia,” Baxter warned. “That’s enough.”

Petunia ignored Baxter as she moved towards the door. “Got any of those biscuits left, Annamae? Yours are the best around. Just don’t tell Midge.”

Annamae laughed. “I am sure I can find something. I am sure your sister makes a fine biscuit.”

As Annamae disappeared inside the house with Peter and Petunia, Baxter stepped onto the wooden porch, his boot scraping against the rough surface. He leaned against a weathered post, propped one dusty boot on the edge and folded his arms across his chest. Turning to face Rex with a thoughtful expression on his face, he finally spoke. “Looks like you have something on your mind other than two houseguests running off.”

Rex looked around. “I don’t want to talk here. Let’s go to the barn.” He pulled up the collar of his long duster, tucking his hands into the pockets of the soft leather. Without a glance back to see if Baxter was following, he strode towards the old red barn. The familiar scent of hay and dried cow manure filled his nostrils as he stepped inside. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the peacefulness of the ranch wash over him.

Shadows blocked out the light as Baxter pulled the large barn door closed. “What’s going on? This isn’t like you.”

“I need some advice.” Rex leaned back against the workbench and tugged off his leather gloves, snapping them in his hand. “You know when you get a feeling that something is off with someone, but you can’t put your finger on it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“George strikes me like that. I don’t know what it is, but there is something there. Tillie has captured my attention and I’m interested in courting her. I have no clue how to handle this, and her brother is always lurking around. He’s asking questions about the ranch. Things that he shouldn’t be asking.”

Baxter chuffed. “Is this about George or Tillie?”

Dropping his gloves on the workbench, Rex stood up straight. “What do you mean?”

“Well, are you looking for a problem with George because he’s impeding you courting Tillie? Or is there really a problem there?”

“I don’t know. Again, something just isn’t right about him. Why would he want to know how many head of cattle we have? Or horses? Or men?”

“Curiosity? Making conversation? What were you doing when he asked?”

“We were riding out to the pasture to find Sawyer.”

“Who was with you?”

“It was me, Tillie, Pet and George.”

“There’s your problem. It’s about you and Tillie. He was asking questions, and you wanted to speak to Tillie. I think you’re reading too much into it.”

“He’s rude to Annie.” Rex knew he was grasping at straws.

“That you can address immediately. It is your house.”

“It is Ma’s house.”

Baxter took off his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Right now, it is your house. You are the man of the house, even though Annie and Sawyer live there. You’re the oldest. Do you think Ma and Tot will return from Boston?”

Rex sat in silence for a moment. “I don’t know. I know she hated it out here and talked about returning east all the time.”

“She said she was going to find Vangie, but that was years ago when we heard she had headed that way. Little sis could have moved on by now.”

“Do you ever think of her?”

“Who? Vange?” When Rex nodded, Baxter sighed heavily. “I do. I’m not sure what happened that would make her leave like she did.”

“Do you believe what Pa said? That one of the Chapman boys got her in a family way and she had to leave?”

Baxter walked over to some hay bales that hadn’t been put away and plopped down. “I did, but now I don’t know. I think he believed it and it gave him something to be angry about. Think about it. She was gonna marry Owen. Why would she leave?”

“Owen doesn’t seem like the type that would have done that.”

“He isn’t.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes more.

“It’s been over five minutes. We better go get those acorns for Annie.”

“We can stop by the house and get all the little ones. You know they’d love to help. We can just gather the acorns from there. And all the walnuts dropped over the past few months are drying out. They can gather those too.”

The thought of spending time with all the Beale children warmed Rex’s heart. He pushed himself off the workbench and headed towards the barn door.

Baxter clapped Rex on the shoulder as they headed towards the house to get Peter and Petunia. “You know, sometimes we get so caught up in our own troubles that we forget how lucky we are to have family and friends around us.”

“True. I still wish I could spend more time with Tillie, though.”

“Well, you’re living under the same roof, ain’t ya? You’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other. That’s half the battle right there. Find something for her brother to do.” Baxter picked up an empty pail near the chicken coop before catching up with Rex’s stride once again. “You worry too much, brother. Tillie seems to like you fine. Don’t let George’s antics get under your skin.”

Rex nodded; a weight lifted off his shoulders. Maybe he had been reading too much into George’s behavior. As they approached the porch, he couldn’t help but notice Sawyer and Annamae standing on the porch, their lips locked in a tender embrace. They looked so happy, so content, and Rex couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for a love like that.

“Lord,” he whispered under his breath, “grant me patience and wisdom in this situation. Help me find the right path to Tillie’s heart.”

As his prayer left his lips and lingered in the dusty air, Rex hoped God would hear it. But for now, Rex could only wait and hope that an opportunity to express his feelings to Tillie would present itself.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” Tillie asked.

Rex glanced over at Tillie; her face etched with worry as they approached his brother’s house. He could see the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty about being accepted by his family.

His warm brown eyes met Tillie’s, and he gave her a reassuring nod. “Just relax and be yourself,” he said, noticing her nervous habit of chewing on her bottom lip.

“You don’t think they are upset that I missed yesterday, are you?” Tillie and George didn’t make it back until the sun was nearly setting, so it was too late to gather many acorns.

“They are very forgiving. We’ll just have to make up for it today.”

They rode next to each other on the path that followed the creek leading to Baxter’s home. Rex pointed out the small animals and birds as they traveled along.

“Why does your sister need a bunch of acorns?” Tillie asked.

“She soaks and dries them, and then makes flour from them. If there isn’t enough time this year to get it done, she’ll save them for next year.”

“That sounds like a lot of work for little reward.” She moved her horse closer to the creek. “How deep is that water?”

“It’s about ten feet in the center. It would be less work if we had done it when we said we would.”

Tillie’s eyes narrowed, and she scrunched up her nose in frustration. “I already apologized for missing yesterday,” she said through gritted teeth. “What else do you want me to do?”

“Alright, Tillie.” Rex would let the conversation slide. “Why don’t you tell me what really happened while you were in town with George?”

Tillie rode silently next to him, preoccupied with her own thoughts for a moment. She maintained her gaze on the path ahead before finally responding. “It was nothing much. George just needed a few supplies, is all.”

Rex squinted, detecting an underlying tone in her words. He couldn’t think of any reason she would need to lie to him. “Really, Tillie? I know there’s more to it than that. I can see it in the way you are sitting in the saddle.” His voice was gentle, but firm.

Tillie sighed. “All right, fine.” She turned in the seat to look at him. “George ran into an old... friend from our time in Texas.” She spat out the word friend as if it left a bitter taste in her mouth. “I didn’t much care for him, truth be told.”

“Is this person someone we should be worried about?” Rex asked, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Let’s just say I’m glad we left Texas behind,” Tillie replied, avoiding Rex’s probing gaze. “But it’s not something you need to worry about, Rex. I can handle it myself.”

Rex knew Tillie was strong-willed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was keeping something important from him.

His eyes followed her every move, taking in the way she kept her arms crossed tightly over her lap as she held the reins and avoided making eye contact with him. He could sense her unease and his heart ached with concern for her.

As they neared Baxter’s house, he realized there was more to her story than she let on. The tension between them was palpable. He steered his horse closer to hers, his voice gentle yet insistent.

“Tillie, you know you can trust me,” he said softly, silently begging for her to look at him. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to face it alone. We’re in this together now.”

She lifted her head, and he searched her face for any clue to what she might be thinking. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she finally met his gaze, her vulnerability shining through her tough exterior. Her voice was barely a whisper as she spoke. “Why? You don’t even know me.”

His heart clenched at her words, feeling a pang of hurt in the distance she seemed to put between them. He wanted to reach out, to show her he genuinely cared, but he could see the walls she had built around herself.

Speaking in a hushed tone, Rex attempted to penetrate her emotional barrier. “You’re right, Tillie. I might not know everything about you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. You’re family, too.”

Tillie hesitated, her gaze dropping for a moment before meeting his again. The weight of unspoken words lingered between them, hanging heavily in the air. Finally, she drew in a shaky breath and spoke, her voice wavering slightly.

“You don’t know what it’s like, Rex,” Tillie murmured, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and apprehension. “You have a good life here with your family, but George and I... We’re on our own. We’ve made mistakes, done things we’re not proud of.”

Rex listened intently, his heart going out to her as he saw the torment in her eyes. He reached out a hand, hesitated for a moment, then rested it gently on her shoulder, offering silent comfort. Tillie flinched at the unexpected touch but didn’t pull away. She seemed torn between the urge to confide and the instinct to guard her secrets. Rex maintained his gentle gaze, willing her to trust him.

“You’re not alone, Tillie. We’re here to help you through whatever it is you’re facing. You don’t have to carry the burden by yourself when you have us now.”

She nodded and trotted ahead into the clearing where a two-story house came into view. Rex decided not to push her further, focusing instead on the task at hand: introducing her to the rest of Baxter’s family.

Peter was standing on the porch as they approached. He waved as he saw them get closer. Rex and Tillie lifted their hands in greeting.

“Hey Rex!” Peter called, hopping down from the porch. He turned and lifted one of the smaller children, placing them on the ground before striding over to meet the guests. Grabbing Daisy’s halter, he smiled at Tillie. “I’m Peter. Midge is my sister. Gosh, you’re pretty.”

“Peter, you met Tillie when she arrived.” Rex just chuckled at the boy’s forwardness, seeing Tillie blush at the unexpected compliment.

Peter flashed a mischievous grin. “I wasn’t paying attention then. I am now.”

“Nice to see you again, Peter. Who is this little one?”

“That’s Abilene. You can call her Abi.”

“Abilene is a place in Texas. It is a pretty name.”

“Is that where you are from?” the little girl asked.

“It is.”

“Peter, why don’t you take the horse and get it watered instead of talking the poor woman to death?” Rex scolded, his voice tinged with a touch of envy.

Peter shrugged, flashing a charming smile at Tillie before reaching up to help her slide to the ground. Rex noticed the boy held onto her just a moment too long before leading the horse away. Tillie watched Peter with a small smile playing on her lips.

It was clear that the boy was smitten with her, and Rex couldn’t help but feel a pang of possessiveness towards the woman who was a guest in his house. Her willingness to engage with Peter contrasted sharply with her guarded demeanor towards him, making Rex wonder what it was about Peter that seemed to put her at ease.

Rex slid off his horse and tugged on the reins.

“He thinks I’m pretty,” she grinned. As she spoke, her hips swayed, and the fabric of her dress hugged her legs. Then she sang the words, “he thinks I’m pretty,” while looking directly at Rex.

Rex felt a surge of irritation at the way Tillie seemed to revel in Peter’s attention. Her playful demeanor grated on him, especially after rebuffing his attentions. Unsettled by the sudden shift in her behavior, he cleared his throat and gestured toward the house.

“I reckon you should head on in now, Tillie. Midge and Baxter are just inside. Pet should be in there too.” Rex said, his tone curt. He couldn’t shake off the feeling of being disregarded as Peter’s simple charm seemed to effortlessly captivate Tillie.

“Are you coming?” She blinked several times.

“I’m just going to water my horse and I’ll be right in.”

“I’ll escort you up, Tillie,” Peter said, reappearing behind Rex.

“Miss Youngerman,” Rex hissed.

Peter shook his head. “What?”

“Her name is Miss Youngerman.”

Tillie glared at Rex. “Thank you, Peter. That’s mighty thoughtful.”

As Tillie turned to follow Peter towards the house, her hand brushed against Rex’s arm lightly. Rex felt a jolt of warmth shoot through him, but he clenched his jaw and held his tongue. He watched as Tillie’s laughter floated back to him, carried on the breeze. Peter was already chattering away, his excitement palpable.

What was wrong with him? He wasn’t courting Tillie. Yet. And here he was competing for her affections with a sixteen-year-old boy.

Rex turned away, leading his horse towards the trough. As he unhooked the saddle and bridle, his mind was a whirl of confusion. He felt a spark of anger towards Peter, frustration at Tillie’s fickleness, and a growing sense of concern for what was happening at home. Pumping fresh water into a bucket, he hung it on a peg inside the paddock and watched his horse trot around the edges of the fencing.

“Rex! I need to talk to you,” Pet yelled across the yard.

Just when his day couldn’t get any worse.

He groaned, running a wet hand down his face. He didn’t want to talk about hunting or traps or anything else today. Now, he didn’t even want to hunt for acorns or walnuts.

“What do you want, Petunia?”

Pet stopped short. She still wore her dirty buckskins, but the racoon was no longer on top of her head. “I needed to talk to you. I was in town...”

“Stop.” Rex held up his hand.

“But,” she protested. “Listen to me.”

Rex’s patience snapped like a brittle twig. “I told you we are going hunting. You don’t need to ask over and over. No, I do not want to waste time practicing when I have a ranch to run. And you don’t need to come over to my house every single day. Why don’t you stay here and put in some effort to help your own family?” Frustration and exhaustion tinged his words, as he felt the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. The surrounding air crackled with tension as Rex finally let out the pent-up feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface.

A look of confusion crossed Petunia’s face, but Rex couldn’t bring himself to care. Her brows furrowing and her lips pursing in a slight frown. “I thought we was kin?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. The bond between them suddenly felt uncertain, like a frayed thread about to unravel.

“You have your family here. I need to take care of my own. That isn’t you right now.”

He watched for a moment, her bottom lip trembling. “I hate you, Rex Hartman. I hate you.” Petunia turned on her heel and ran towards the house, her shoulders shaking.

Rex leaned against the wooden fence as the front door slammed, shaking the house windows. He turned and hung his head, placing his forehead against the railing.

“Lord, help me,” he muttered. He knew it wasn’t a real prayer. Just a plea from a desperate man that had made a foolish choice.

The second slamming of a door made him jump, and he turned to see Baxter storming out of the farmhouse. His brows were furrowed, his jaw clenched, and his fists were balled up at his sides. Rex’s stomach tightened with fear as Baxter marched across the yard towards him, radiating anger and frustration.

“I don’t know if I should just take you to the ground or let you explain,” Baxter said, rolling up his shirtsleeves.

“Perhaps both.”

“You wanna tell me what you did that made that young girl cry? She’s in her room wailing like Aunt Mary’s ghost, and now all the children are crying.”

Rex kicked at the dirt with his boot. “I know it may sound unlikely, but it resulted from my foolishness and frustration.”

He slowly looked up at his brother, who towered over him with clenched fists and a furrowed brow. A hint of sorrow appeared in Baxter’s eyes as he stared back at him. Rex felt small and ashamed standing there.

“You are my brother. My closest friend. I don’t know what is going on in your head, but I suggest you get your house in order, brother. The Lord will not bless you until you do that.”

“I know.” Rex knew. Whistling for his horse, he lifted the saddle once more. “Apologize to Pet for me and see that Tillie gets back to the house, will you?”