Page 37 of Fairest of Heart

The coonhound’s ears lifted, and his head turned, but he didn’t release his prize. She rejoiced at seeing the dog so full of energy, but she didn’t want him to jeopardize his position here by aggravating one of the Diamond D hands. She and Lucky shared a kinship—two down-on-their-luck creatures with nowhere to go. They needed to find a niche, a purpose. Something of value to contribute. Something other than trouble.

“Stupid dog,” Jeb muttered under his breath, his ears reddening as Penelope joined them.

Was he embarrassed? Perhaps it wasn’t impatience and frustration that brought on his fit of temper, but chagrin over his inability to win this battle of wills.

“Maybe if you drop your end, he’ll think the game is over,” she suggested.

“And maybe if I drop my end, he’ll run off with the entire coil, and I’ll have to hike all over creation to get it back.”

Penelope shrugged. “If that happens, I’ll fetch it for you. Only fair since it was my suggestion.”

She thought removing the risk would ease Jeb’s resistance, but his frown only intensified. “As if I’d let a lady fetch and carry for me.”

Her heart pinched. She hadn’t meant to hurt his pride.

“Forget it.” He released his grip on the coil and stomped off toward the house.

Penelope sighed as she hunkered down beside a triumphant Lucky, who wagged his prize back and forth in celebration.

She leveled a stern look at the exuberant hound and pointed to the ground. “Drop it, please.”

Lucky cocked his head and let out a small whine.

“That isn’t yours.”

Hanging his head, he opened his jaws and let the rope fall to the ground.

She smiled. “Good boy.” She hugged his neck and petted him with great affection, digging her fingers into his fur and rubbing all his favorite spots.

Hugs and pats had never really been a part of Penelope’s youth. She’d known Edith cared for her, but her guardian’s affection had been shown through her cooking, not through kisses and handholding and other physical displays. Penelope had never realized how sterile her life had been until she took on the duty of tending to Lucky. He accepted her affection as if he’d been starved for kindness, lapping up as much as she could give. And she gave as if she’d been storing it up her entire life, just waiting for a willing receptacle. Two hungry souls seeking to love and be loved in return.

“You must behave better than this,” she scolded gently as she rubbed his ears. “We need these men to like us.”

As much as Doc and the others had made her feel welcome, she couldn’t quite escape the nagging fear that she could be asked to leave at any time.

“We need to show them that we are assets, not liabilities.” She laid her face against his neck. “We’ve given them two extra mouths to feed, you know.”

Doc had surprised her earlier this week with an entire basketful of items he’d purchased on his last trip to town. An apron for her kitchen work, a box of hairpins, stockings, shoes—new ones, even though she’d insisted on secondhand when he’d asked her for her size. He’d told her not to worry about the cost. Said that Titus had left enough money to cover the cost of the shoes, and the others had chipped in for the rest. Such kind souls. It warmed her heart every time she placed a pin in her hair or tied the apron strings around her waist. The little flips her stomach turned each time she looked at her feet were another matter. She really needed to stop reacting like a silly schoolgirl. Titus was a good man who saw a need and addressed it. Nothing more. Reading any personal meaning into the gift would be foolish.

Then there’d been the fabric. A pretty, navy calico sprinkled with tiny yellow flowers. She’d tried to refuse it. After all, she’d made over one of his wife’s bodices last week and didn’t need a new dress. But maybe Doc was embarrassed by her patchwork fashion. Peterson’s Magazine would certainly not be inviting her to model her ensemble for their summer issue, but she rather enjoyed the cheerful mix of colors. The deep blue bodice sported puffed sleeves that she was able to take in for the snugger fit currently in style, though she did leave a nice pouf at the shoulder to match some of the fashions she’d seen in Madame’s magazines. The remake had required the addition of filler material beneath the arms to expand the bustline, and on a whim, she’d opted for red. The bold color was mostly hidden by her arms, but those crimson panels gave her an excuse to wear the red ribbon she’d found in Mabel’s trunk. It reminded her of the one she lost in the woods the night of her abduction, and wearing it kindled gratitude for the chance she’d been given to restart her life.

Doc ignored her protests about the new fabric, of course, and insisted she make herself a dress. One that fit properly. And when she’d vowed to clean the house from top to bottom to try to cover such an expense, he’d waved her offer aside.

“You don’t have to earn your place here, Penelope,” he’d said. “This is your home now. You’re one of us, and we take care of our own.”

She didn’t quite know what to do with such grace. Accepting it from her Lord made sense, because everyone had fallen short of God’s glory and needed Christ’s redemption. One’s background or status made no difference to a God who did not show favoritism. But accepting grace in human form where status made all the difference? That was a new experience. One she didn’t quite trust. She wanted to believe Doc. Her heart craved a home and a family with a soul-deep hunger. Yet she’d been taught that the best way to avoid disappointment in life was to work hard and expect little. So how was she to handle such a bountiful gift?

Lucky licked her face, erasing her thoughts and eliciting a giggle. Maybe the dog had the right idea. Enjoy the blessings the Lord provided in the moment and take each new day as it came.

“‘This is the day which the Lord hath made,’” she quoted softly as she rose to her feet. “‘We will rejoice and be glad in it.’ Won’t we, Lucky?”

The hound wagged his tail in an enthusiastic manner, and her smile widened.

“But we’ll also use our day to be a blessing to others.” She picked up the coil of rope Jeb had left behind, avoiding the more slobbery sections, then pointed a finger at Lucky. “I expect you to apologize.” He cocked his head, his ears crinkling. “Don’t pretend not to know what I mean. You’re going to help me return this rope, and I expect you to look contrite while doing so.”

Lucky sat on his haunches and looked up at her expectantly. Mouth open, tongue lolling. Nothing the least bit repentant in his demeanor. Oh well. At least he was no longer chewing on Jeb’s rope.

Penelope patted her leg. “Come on, then. Time to make amends.”