Hill Country Courtship. Laurie Kingery

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СКАЧАТЬ had come from the ranches outside Simpson Creek and from nearby counties to meet the others in the club. No one was misbehaving—either from having stopped at the town saloon before arriving at the party or becoming overfamiliar with any of her ladies. Everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves.

      Her friend Ella Justiss, who was due to be married next Saturday, was having a particularly good time, radiant with the joy of new love. Nate Bohannan, the devoted groom-to-be, couldn’t have been more attentive, fetching her punch and barbecued chicken, seemingly unwilling to be anywhere but by her side. By the time one of them decided it was time to have a party again, Ella would be happily serving refreshments at the party, as the Spinster “graduates” usually did, and possibly already expecting their first child.

      Maude was happy for them. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to be jealous of her friend’s good fortune. And, indeed, with all the challenges that Ella had faced in her life, she richly deserved the happiness she was blessed with now. Though Maude had to wonder from time to time why she, the daughter of the late town doctor, was still unwed while so many others in the club had found their matches. And she did wonder how she was going to be able to stand continuing to live at Mrs. Meyer’s boardinghouse without her good friend Ella.

      After Maude’s father’s death, it had been difficult to leave her house behind and move into a rented room. The home she’d shared with her father had been quiet and peaceful, with Maude fully in control of all household matters. The boardinghouse was noisy and chaotic, and she’d struggled to settle in. Losing the comfort of her routines and the security of her position as mistress in her home had been heavy blows to a heart already burdened by the loss of her dear father.

      But Ella had made it much easier to bear with her friendship and support. Maude had come to count on Ella to keep her company and chuckle with her over the quirks of some of the boardinghouse’s other residents. Now she would be the only female occupant of the boardinghouse, not counting old Mrs. Meyer, the proprietress.

      Mrs. Meyer had hinted only yesterday that she intended to pass along ownership of the boardinghouse to Maude when she died. Was that to be her fate, then? Running the town’s only boardinghouse, with its eight rooms and mostly male occupants, with three meals a day to cook, and forever having to listen to grousing from the tenants that the beef was too tough, the chicken drumsticks too few, or that one of the traveling drummers took more than his fair share of the apple dumplings?

      Her father had certainly expected a brighter future for her than that. He’d once told her he pictured her with a houseful of children with hair as red as her own and a husband whose greatest pleasure was satisfying his wife’s slightest whim. Maude felt she was easy to please, so she didn’t need an overindulgent husband, but the thought of living her whole life without any husband or children made her sad. She enjoyed caring for others, had cherished her role as nurse in her father’s medical practice. She’d always hoped that one day she’d have a family of her own to whom she could devote her time and loving attention. But apparently that wasn’t meant to be.

      Pull yourself together, Maude Harkey, she told herself sternly. No one needs to see a melancholy face at a party. And if the Lord wants you to remain single, then there’s a reason, no doubt.

      “Who’s that?”

      She hadn’t noticed Violet Masterson and Caroline Collier, two of the other ex-Spinsters, coming to stand beside her, but now she followed the former’s discreetly pointed finger.

      A man stood at the edge of the throng, hat in hand as was polite in the presence of ladies, but there was nothing humble about his bearing. Rather, he reminded her of a golden eagle perched high above a flock of sheep, looking for the tastiest lamb to pluck from the herd. The red-gold hair that he raked back from his forehead just then only served to further the image.

      “I don’t know, but goodness, he’s a late arriver,” Maude said, glancing over her shoulder at the long table that had been heaped with food before the party. “I hope there’s enough barbecued chicken and potato salad left to feed him.” The male guests had gone through the food like a plague of locusts, and it would be a wonder if there was a sufficient amount to fill even one more plate.

      “Oh, that’s Jonas MacLaren,” Caroline Collier said, following her friends’ gazes. “He’s the man who bought Five Mile Hill Ranch, out past Collier’s Roost. I heard he bargained hard with Mr. Avery at the bank and ended up getting it for next to nothing.”

      “Since he’s here at our social, are we to assume there’s no Mrs. MacLaren?” Violet asked with a sidelong glance at Maude.

      Maude did her best to hide her wince. She ought to come right out and tell her friends she’d decided to stop looking for a husband in hopes that they would stop looking for one for her. She knew her friends only wanted her to be happy—as happy as they were with their husbands—but she’d grown weary of the endless attempts to match her with men who clearly had no interest. Perhaps if she resigned the presidency of the Spinsters’ Club, it would make the message clear that she no longer considered herself in the market for a husband. Besides, if she was still looking, she wouldn’t look in Jonas MacLaren’s direction. The man looked positively fierce.

      “There is a Mrs. MacLaren,” Caroline informed them, and Violet gave a disappointed sniff.

      “What’s he doing here, then?” Violet said, indignation sparking in her well-bred English voice. “Doesn’t he know this is a party for eligible bachelors to meet the ladies of the Spinsters’ Club?”

      Caroline chuckled. “Ah, but the Mrs. MacLaren in question isn’t his wife, she’s his mother,” she said with the triumphant smile of one who has withheld vital information until just the right moment. “She’s from Scotland, I hear, and quite a Tartar.”

      Maude stared at Caroline, confused. “A what?”

      “A Tartar,” Caroline repeated, then explained. “A person of irritable or violent temper.” Caroline had been a schoolteacher before she’d married Jack Collier. Her time spent running the schoolhouse and finding answers for the children’s endless questions had left her with a wealth of unusual facts at her disposal—along with an extensive vocabulary.

      “I see,” Maude said, giving a little shiver. “Have you met her?”

      Caroline shook her head. “No one has. She doesn’t leave the ranch house, I’ve heard. Very few have met her son, for that matter,” she added, nodding toward MacLaren, who was still studying the attendees. “I wouldn’t know it was him, but he came to Collier’s Roost to ask Jack something about the area. When Jack invited him inside for coffee, he declined, saying he had to get back to his ranch.”

      “Perhaps she’s an invalid,” Violet suggested.

      “Well,” Maude said, squaring her shoulders, “I suppose I should go and introduce myself and try to make sure he gets refreshments.”

      It was a scary prospect. Something in the man’s gaze told her he might devour maiden ladies for breakfast.

      A Harkey does not shirk her duty, Maude told herself, and forced her steps in Jonas MacLaren’s direction.

      She saw the moment that he noticed her approaching, the way his tall frame stilled, though his eyes—hazel eyes shot through with gold, she noted, which further enhanced his golden eagle-like appearance—remained vigilant and guarded.

      “Welcome to our party, Mr. MacLaren,” she called out as she drew near. “I’m Maude Harkey, СКАЧАТЬ