The Rancher's Courtship. Laurie Kingery

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СКАЧАТЬ two o’clock, but if you’re heading north, the next town is quite a piece up the road on the other side of the Colorado River.”

       “Who needs a town? We’ve been camping out with the herd since we left south Texas. I left the cattle south of town, grazing by the creek. My drovers are there, but we should get back to them.” In actuality, his men were not expecting him to return before morning, but Caroline Wallace didn’t need to know that.

       He could leave the ring at the post office. He remembered Pete telling him her father was postmaster.

       “I—I’ve given you the worst of news. You can’t just leave, after that. Please, allow me to apologize, and again, offer you a place for the night at our house. Mama and Papa would want to meet you and your daughters—they would have been their grandnieces…”

      If Pete had lived to marry her. “No, thanks,” he said and strode out the door. He spotted the twins not far away, each holding one end of a jump rope while a third girl jumped it. It looked as if they’d been readily accepted by the other girls and were having a great time.

       He beckoned to them. “Abby, Amelia, come with me.” He watched as they bid quick farewells to their new playmates, snatched up their dolls and ran to him. “We’ll leave the horses here for now.” With any luck, Miss Wallace would be gone by the time they returned for them.

       “Are we going to Uncle Pete’s house now?” Abby asked.

       “Where does he live?” Amelia chimed in, as they fell into step with him.

      In Heaven, he thought, but aloud he said, “There’s been a change of plans, girls. Let’s walk along the creek and I’ll tell you about it.” He wanted to get away from the schoolyard, in case Caroline Wallace was watching from the schoolhouse window. The girls walked along with him quietly, taking their cue from his solemn demeanor.

       The creek for which the town had been named was lined with cottonwood and live oak trees. It wasn’t wide—a man on horseback could splash or swim across it in a moment, depending on the time of year, but it was pretty, flowing lazily past them. He saw a fish jump after a dragonfly and regretted for a moment that he wouldn’t be here long enough to bring a cane pole and try his luck.

       He paused when he found an inviting grassy bank and invited them to sit down with him.

       “Miss Wallace told me some bad news, girls,” he began, when they were settled on either side of him.

       They looked up at him, their faces serious, wary. “You mean Aunt Caroline?” Amelia asked.

       He didn’t correct her, just nodded. They’d realize Miss Caroline Wallace was never going to be their aunt quickly enough. Best to get it over with—there was no way to soften the blow. “Miss Wallace told me that Uncle Pete became very sick this winter, and they couldn’t make him well again. He…he passed away, girls. He went to Heaven.”

       Two identical shocked faces stared up at him, open-mouthed.

       “He—he died, Papa? Uncle Pete died? Like Mama?” Abby asked, her voice breaking as a tear began to slide down her cheek. Beside her, Amelia had closed her eyes and sagged against her twin, whimpering.

       He nodded, pulling them both against him, and for a few minutes he just held them while they sobbed. He let a few of his own tears trickle into their soft hair, knowing they would never notice in the midst of their crying, but he was careful not to lose control for fear of frightening them. They had only seen him weep when their mother died, but that had been almost three years ago and he thought they had probably been too young then to remember it.

       A man couldn’t have asked for a better brother than Pete, Jack thought. He’d been Jack’s best friend, his playmate, his confidant—and his defender when Pa had taken out his frustrations on Jack. It hadn’t been Pete’s fault he was smarter, and he’d never rubbed Jack’s nose in it, never flaunted it. He’d thought it only fitting when Jack had inherited the ranch.

       “So now where are we going to stay while you go to Montana to find us a new mama?” Amelia asked, knuckling the remains of her tears away. She was always the more direct one of the two.

       “I think we should still stay with Aunt Caroline,” Abby said. She was the twin who made decisions quickly. Amelia was more wary and liked to consider all sides of a question.

       Did her reply mean she’d liked Miss Wallace instantly or only that Abby had gotten used to the idea of staying with her uncle and his bride during the journey from south Texas? When he’d first told them of his plan to move to Montana, and they’d been ignorant of the rigors of a trail drive, they’d been upset that they wouldn’t be coming along, but joining him in Montana later. He’d talked up how happy they’d be with their uncle and aunt until the girls had started to sound excited about Simpson Creek and the family they’d find there.

       He’d have to tread carefully now so as not to let on that he and Miss Caroline had had sharp words.

       “What would you say, Abby, if I told you I’ve decided to take you two with me after all?” He’d keep them safe, he told himself. Other settlers had taken families with them to Montana Territory. It was a tough, dangerous journey, and even more so with a thousand head of unpredictable longhorns, but what choice did he have now that he couldn’t leave them with Pete and his bride? He’d be there to protect them. Surely they’d be all right if they rode in the chuck wagon, even though Cookie was a cranky, irascible old coot given to colorful language.

       Identical faces turned identically stormy.

       “Do we have to go with those nasty ol’ cows?” Abby asked, her voice dangerously close to a whine.

       “Well, yes, we—I—have to stay with the herd,” he said, dismayed at their reaction, but knowing his daughters couldn’t appreciate the profit he’d make by driving cattle to hungry miners yearning for beef.

       Abby and Amelia hadn’t complained much before this, once they’d gotten used to the ever-present dust and the brutally long days of slow progress northward. But apparently they’d been holding it in since they’d only had to put up with it till they reached Uncle Pete’s house.

       “I don’t like sleeping on the hard ground, Papa,” Amelia said, lower lip jutting out.

      What kind of father subjected little girls to sleeping outside in all kinds of weather? He could practically hear Caroline—or his father—asking the scornful question.

       “But we’ll be together—you won’t have to wait till I send for you,” he said, hoping that would mollify them. After the shock of hearing Pete was dead, Jack didn’t have the heart to say he was their papa and they’d do as they were told. Then he remembered he wasn’t expected back to the herd till morning. “How about a special treat tonight, girls? We’ll stay at the hotel here, then rejoin the herd tomorrow.”

       Amelia and Abby’s faces brightened somewhat. “With real beds and real food, Papa?” Amelia asked.

       “Well, don’t let Cookie hear you saying that he hasn’t been serving you real food, Punkin. But yes, real food—maybe even fried chicken.” A diet of beans and corn bread and beef got old fast, especially to a child.

       Something like a real grin spread across Abby’s face. “I love fried chicken, Papa.”

       “All right then, let’s go.” СКАЧАТЬ