The Hens_The Third Day Page 8

  Or maybe they did.

  “Hold still, Moonbeam,” he grumbled, all of his usual patience gone. “This shoe isn’t going to fix itself.”

  Moonbeam let out a long, complaining bray, but Woody refused to let her pull away from him. He sat on a stool to one side of the barn, Moonbeam’s back foot resting on his knees. Most of the time, donkeys didn’t wear horseshoes, but the terrain of the mine meant that they were constantly getting rocks in their hooves without them. Moonbeam’s problem—one he saw often—was that a small rock had wedged itself between her hoof and the shoe. He’d had to bring her down from the mine to the barn to set things to right.

  But the barn was now full of memories of Meizhen. He swore he could still hear her laughter echoing in the rafters. Mimi, Gigi, and Fifi roosting on their nests in the corner reminded him of the way Meizhen had said how cozy the barn was. He kept checking to see if she was warming herself by the stove, or worse, glancing up to the loft and imagining her sitting on the bed up there, waiting for a kiss.

  He tugged the stone free of Moonbeam’s hoof with a little more force than necessary, and she brayed to let him know it. Or maybe she was taking him to task for letting his thoughts wander.

  “I know,” he complained right back. “But what am I supposed to do? I can’t step between a woman and her brother, especially when they haven’t seen each other for years.”

  He checked the fit of the horseshoe as he talked, then let Moonbeam’s hoof go when he was satisfied nothing else needed to be done. Moonbeam stomped a few times in response.

  “And Meizhen is a woman of honor,” he went on. “She made a promise to that Ka fella in San Francisco just the same as she made a promise to me.”

  Only, that felt like a lie as it crossed his lips. In fact, Chi-ming was the one who made the promise to the Ka fella. Meizhen was just honoring her brother’s wishes. She’d never said that she and her sister came to American because they wanted to get married, to Ka or the other one or anyone else. To Woody, it sounded like they’d come because their brother wanted them to come. On the other hand, she’d sought out Mrs. Walters and asked her to find a husband for her on purpose, because that’s what she wanted.

  “Surely what Meizhen wanted for herself is more important than a promise her brother made for her,” he said aloud.

  Moonbeam brayed and bobbed her head. The hens perked up and clucked, fluffing up and flapping their wings. Woody took that as a sign of agreement. He stood to put the stool and the tools he’d been using back where they belonged.

  “I should have said something more,” he lamented, he told the hens as he passed their nests. He hated feeling so glum, hated second-guessing himself. “I should have been more like Bud and the others. They’re always saying that women should be told what to do instead of asked.”

  But even as he spoke, he knew Bud was wrong, and he couldn’t imagine speaking to Meizhen with anything less than tenderness.

  He sighed as he placed the stool against the wall and slid his tools into the cubbyholes in the cabinet that Jack had made for him. “Let’s face it,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m just not the kind of man who should have a wife. I never should have put my name in when Rev. Hammond came up with his idea. The only kind of men who get anywhere in this life are the kind who have a mean streak and can force people to do what they want.”

  “That’s not true.”

  Woody nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Meizhen’s voice. He whirled around, searching the barn, and found her standing just inside of the door. Her coat was buttoned tight, and her cheeks were pink from the cold. But what Woody noticed most was the combination of sadness and anxious expectation that radiated from her.

  “Meizhen, what are you doing here?” He slid the last of his tools into its place, then strode over to her. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and never let her go, but at the last minute, he reined himself in and stopped a few feet from her.

  “I came to apologize,” she said.

  Woody’s brow shot up. “Apologize? For what?”

  She bit her lower lip and stepped toward him, eyes downcast. Her gloved hands were clutched in front of her. “I shouldn’t have left so quickly yesterday. Chi-ming surprised me with news of Chan Ka-ling.”

  The mention of the other man’s name depressed Woody even more. “It’s okay,” he said. “I understand. You want to do what’s right by your brother. It’s because you’re a good person.”

  Her eyes lifted to meet his. “No, Woody. I don’t want to do what my brother wants me to do.” She took another step forward, reaching for his hands. Woody let her take them. “I want to do what’s right by me.”

  His heart quivered in his chest. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

  “But I cannot do it lightly.” She lowered her eyes, bowing her head. “I cannot be selfish.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, debating whether he should be so bold, and deciding that yes, yes he should. “Sometimes we have to be a little selfish in order to be happy. You can’t please everyone all the time.”

  She peeked up at him, a hint of a smile on her face. “Are you ever selfish, Woody?”

  He opened his mouth to admit that he was feeling mighty selfish in that moment, but was interrupted as the barn door pushed open. Instead of a person coming to see him, Jock limped in. He gave a quick bark and started to wag his tail, but stopped with a yelp. Woody spotted a patch of hair near Jock’s wound that was matted with blood.

  “What did you do, boy?” He let go of Meizhen’s hands and marched over to examine the dog. “You didn’t rest like I told you,” he scolded Jock while gently stroking a hand across his back and turning him so that his injured flank was in the light. “You’ve been out chasing something?”

  Jock yelped as Woody brushed the blood-dampened hair aside to view the wound. Sure enough, Jock had somehow ripped the stitches Woody had made. The blood was more from those tears than from the original wound.

  “Let’s clean that up and see if you need more stitches,” he said, standing and heading for his shelf of tools. “Then I’m afraid we’ll have to have a talk with Dougan about keeping you tied up for a while.”

  Halfway to his shelf he stopped, noticing that Meizhen was watching him, a hand held to her mouth, laughter in her eyes. Self-consciousness trickled down his back. She must have seen it, because she moved her hand and said, “See? You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, Woody Burnside. You rush to help, even when the one who needs your help is a dog.”

  “But dogs can’t help themselves,” he told her, continuing on to get what he needed to help Jock.

  As he did, Meizhen crossed to the hens’ nests. Mimi, Gigi, and Fifi perked up as she neared them, hopping down to meet her halfway and clucking up a storm in greeting.

  “Many people can’t help themselves,” Meizhen said, her voice quieter. She spotted the hens’ feed and scooped out a handful, scattering it for them. “A wise and generous man can see that, and offers help without being asked.”

  The hair on the back of Woody’s neck stood up as he reached for his doctoring kit. Was Meizhen saying that she needed his help but couldn’t figure out how to ask for it? That seemed unlikely, considering how strong she was. Then again, maybe she needed him to help her stand up to her brother. Maybe his idea that a woman should be free to make her own decisions, that Meizhen should be the only one to decide who she should marry, was going a little too far.

  “Come here, Jock.” He sat on the barn floor so that he was at the right height to clean and dress Jock’s wound. “Let’s take a look.”

  He worked in silence for a few seconds, assessing Jock’s new wound, but also paying attention to Meizhen. She was still feeding the hens, but in between tossing out feed for them, she bent to stroke their feathers. The girls clucked and fluffed, cocking their heads to look up at her. Fifi sent a look his way as if saying, “What are you waiting for? Grab her while the grabbing is good!”

  It just was
n’t in his nature to push what he wanted on anyone, but maybe there were other ways to give Meizhen the help she needed.

  “You know,” he said, trying to be clever. He was pretty sure he’d fail at that, but it was worth a shot. “Last night, I was imagining what the house I might have Jack build for me someday would look like.”

  “Were you?” Meizhen scattered the last of the feed and moved on to Moonbeam’s side. She stroked the donkey’s neck, then looked around, found a brush, and set to work brushing her.

  “Yeah. I think Jack and I could come up with a deal.” Heat spread up his neck to his face as he went on with what felt more like asserting himself than anything he’d ever done. “Especially if I take your advice and offer my services treating animals to folks nearby. I could afford a big house that way.”

  “You could,” Meizhen agreed. Her eyes were focused on Moonbeam’s back, but a smile curved her lips.

  “And you know what a big house needs?”

  “What?”

  “Children.” His hands shook and his heart ached as he said the word. “Lots and lots of children.”

  “Yes, that would be lovely,” Meizhen said, a catch in her voice.

  “And a dog or two, of course.” He winked at Jock, feeling bolder by the second. Mimi clucked, and he added, “And chickens,” for the hens’ sakes.

  “Yes, the hens must have their place as well,” Meizhen agreed. He could hear the happiness in her voice, especially when she went on with, “And perhaps a cat as well.”

  “Oh, sure.” Woody smiled. “We’d have to have a couple cats. They’re good for keeping the mice and other critters out of the house.”

  “And they are pleasant to curl up with on a cold day while reading a book.”

  Woody glanced up at her, a different kind of warmth filling him. “I’m pretty sure we could find other ways of keeping warm that don’t involve cats.”

  Her cheeks pinked, and she looked his way. Their eyes met, and suddenly Woody couldn’t think of anything but how much he wanted to kiss her. Jock’s leg wasn’t as bad as he’d thought and just needed a little cleaning, so he stood, brushing off his hands and crossing to Meizhen. She stood on the other side of Moonbeam, but that didn’t stop him from reaching for her free hand.

  “Say you’ll stay with me, Meizhen,” he said, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I know it means giving up something you feel responsible for, but I swear, you won’t regret it. It’s just that I don’t know what I’ll do if you leave, and I really don’t know what I’d do if you married someone else.”

  “Woody.” It was all she said, just his name, but Woody felt as though it was the best answer she could have given. Her eyes were bright with joy, and her mouth went slack. Slack as though she were waiting for a kiss.

  This time, he wasn’t going to let anything stop him. Not even Moonbeam standing between them. He reached for her, brushing a hand across her cheek, then leaned forward—bending considerably to do so—and brought his mouth down over hers. The moment their lips met, he closed his eyes, the sensation was so wonderful. She was soft and open, and even though they were kissing over the back of a donkey, he imagined he could feel her heart beat in time with his. He swept his thumb over her cheek as he deepened their kiss, tasting her, wanting more. He would move heaven and earth to have her kisses in his life forever.

  The barn door opened a second later.

  “Meizhen, I have received a telegram from Meiying, she—”

  Chi-ming stopped at the sight of them, still deep in their kiss. Woody didn’t need to see Chi-ming to know the man was suddenly angry as a hornet.

  Chapter 9

  Meizhen gasped and stumbled away from Woody and Moonbeam. At the same time, she touched her fingertips to her lips. Woody’s kiss was everything she had been dreaming of—tender, heartfelt, and passionate. And as soon as she had indulged in it, the consequences befell her.

  “Chi-ming, what are you doing here?” She moved to the side to set the currying brush she still held on a bale of hay, then took a step toward her brother. Mimi, Gigi, and Fifi hopped down from their perches to flutter around her skirts, as if they would support whatever she chose to do next. Woody also took a step toward her, standing stalwartly by her side.

  “I have received a response to the telegram we sent to Meiying,” he said, holding up the telegram, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. “But it seems to me that you aren’t interested in the news of our family.”

  The way he stressed the word sent waves of guilt through Meizhen, though it was hard to say if they were stronger than the bliss she felt at finally kissing Woody. “I am interested in our family,” she said, clasping her hands over her heart and praying for a way to make him understand the turmoil that raged inside her. “I will always be interested in our family, even when I have one of my own.”

  Woody reached out and rested a hand on the small of her back. It was a simple gesture, but one that came close to bringing tears to her eyes. She was proud of him for standing up for her, standing up for what he wanted. His gesture was simple, but it made her feel deeply loved.

  But it was difficult to give her whole heart to that feeling when Chi-ming’s expression pinched with grief.

  “After all this time,” her brother said, lowering the telegram and his shoulders with it. “After years spent apart, not knowing if we would ever meet again, you reject me, you reject bringing our family together again as a whole?”

  “I—” Meizhen would much rather have faced her brother’s anger than the sadness and disappointment that hung over him now.

  “We could be together again, our parents too,” Chi-ming went on. “We could make a happy life for all of us in San Francisco. As happy as we were in Kiangsu. Do you not wish for those days again?”

  “Those days were beautiful, but….” She couldn’t think of a single argument that was strong enough to counter the picture of what could be that Chi-ming painted. Except for the fiery new blossom of love that burned in her chest. The argument of love was impossible to put into words.

  Chi-ming let out a breath and came closer, holding up the telegram. He scanned it, then handed it to Meizhen. “Meiying says that her husband is interested in moving to San Francisco with all of us.”

  Meizhen took the telegram and turned it to read for herself. Woody glanced at it over her shoulder.

  “She says her husband could find a buyer for his ranch, and that the money from the sale would be enough for him to start a business in the city.”

  The words were right there for Meizhen to read, along with expressions of joy that Chi-ming had been found at last. It wasn’t just her brother that she would be letting down if she stayed with Woody, it was the twin sister she had shared nearly everything with since before they were born. The sister she had relied on to stay safe and alive when they landed on a foreign shore, knowing no one. Meiying had been there with her as they joined Miles Kopanari’s troupe and traveled the West, searching for the very thing that she had now found. Her conflicted heart knew that it owed as much to Meiying as it did to Woody, perhaps more.

  Chi-ming’s jaw hardened. “You would not have to marry Chan Ka-ling,” he said. It was clearly a difficult concession for him to make. “I could find a way to undo the promise of marriage that I made to him on your behalf.” He flickered a glance to Woody. “You could remain unwed, or marry another of your choosing. In San Francisco.”

  Meizhen’s heart caught in her throat. She twisted to look up at Woody, hope fluttering in her heart.

  Hope wasn’t the only thing fluttering. The hens clucked and flapped their wings, cocking their heads and looking at the three humans as though they were missing something obvious. Moonbeam joined the discussion, braying and shaking her head, then stomping.

  Woody’s expression shifted from bright and open to deflated in seconds. “I can’t leave Noelle.” He let out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face, then glanced around. “I’ve got too many people depending on me around here. C
harlie needs me to keep the mine running. Jack doesn’t have anyone else to take care of his mules.” In the corner, Jock barked. Woody turned to glance at him. “And other folks need me to keep an eye on things too.”

  Chi-ming’s expression darkened once more. “I offer you the chance to marry my sister, who you say you love. I invite you to a new life, a better life, in San Francisco, where you could earn more money than you ever could here. I give you all this knowing others will laugh at me for it, and you turn it down for a bunch of dumb animals?”

  Twin bolts of horror and understanding struck Meizhen. “Chi-ming,” she scolded. “Are you thinking of nothing but your reputation?”

  Chi-ming’s eyes grew wide. “No.” He took a step toward her. “I’m thinking of your happiness. What kind of man would put simple beasts above the chance of lifelong happiness with the woman he loves?”

  “You can’t—” She started to answer, but none of the arguments swirling in her mind made their way to her lips. She glanced from her brother to Woody, hoping he knew the best way to put into words everything in her heart.

  But Woody’s expression had flattened into thought. He rubbed the back of his neck, tightness around his eyes and mouth. For once, Meizhen didn’t have a clue what he was thinking. Something tugged her skirt, and she glanced down to see Gigi pecking at its hem. When the hen tilted her head to look up at her, Meizhen had the distinct feeling Gigi was advising her to have patience.

  “We should go soon,” Chi-ming said carefully, glancing from Woody to Meizhen. “There is no telling when the snows will come again. We need to be down from the mountains and on our way to San Francisco as soon as possible.”

  Meizhen bit her lip and turned fully to Woody. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  At last, Woody let out a breath and dropped his hands to his sides. He looked to Chi-ming. “Mind if I talk to your sister alone for a second?”