Where There's a Will

by Brenda Sinclair

“In trousers in the barn?” Adam tapped his finger on the corner of the desk. “That is not the image I’ve held in my mind all these years while I waited for the girl who’d become my wife to show herself.”

  “Less denim and more calico and lace, with satin ribbons in her hair?” AJ speculated.

  “I saw myself wandering into the house after a hard day’s work. Finding my wife at the stove stirring a big pot of stew with a couple young’uns playing at her feet. Maybe a baby sleeping in a cradle in the corner of the room.” Adam caught himself smiling as he related his vision of domestic life.

  “Sounds more like Lily to me.”

  “Yeah, Pa, I suppose it does.” Adam scooted forward on his chair. “But I don’t know if I want my wife out in the barns all day long.”

  “Question is… do you want Willow for your wife?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Are you prepared to lose her if you two don’t find common ground on working with the Thoroughbreds?”

  “I don’t want to lose Willow for any reason.” Adam exclaimed.

  “Then make a decision. A wife in trousers tending horses? Or no bride at all?” AJ met his eyes. “That simple.”

  “Or that complicated.”

  AJ clambered out of his chair. “Let me know what you decide. Either way sounds like Willow will be staying on the ranch, and for that I’m thankful. We require her talent. But I don’t want your heart broken over this, Adam. Choose wisely, son.”

  “Thanks, Pa,” Adam muttered as his father headed off to bed.

  Choose wisely.

  How did he know what was the wise choice? And wise for him or for Willow? When he asked her to marry him in Texas, this was the last thing he’d expected. No doubt about it. Women were powerful complicated. To make a wise choice, maybe he needed the help of a wise woman. Couldn’t hurt and perhaps she could shed some light on the matter than he hadn’t considered.

  There had to be a solution. He just hadn’t a clue what it could be.

  Chapter 35

  Willow sat at the kitchen table in the cabin she now inhabited by herself since returning to the Double M Ranch without Leonard. She sipped a cup of coffee, shaking her head. What had she been thinking uttering the ultimatum to Adam? If being your wife means I’m no longer permitted to work with the Double M horses, then perhaps I should forgo the ‘marriage’ part.

  Her eyes filled with tears. What had she done?

  Why would she say such a thing? Would Adam interpret her words to mean I don’t love you enough? Nothing could be further from the truth. Seconds after the words left her mouth, she regretted them. She hadn’t meant it; she couldn’t wait to become his wife. But could she give up looking after the Thoroughbreds in exchange for wedding vows? Why couldn’t she have both?

  Perhaps Reverend Fitzpatrick would permit a small amendment to her vows. “I promise to love, honor, and cherish Adam, and care for his horses, for the rest of my days,” she muttered aloud. Sounded reasonable to her ears.

  A knock at the door drew her from her musings.

  “Come in,” she called, setting the empty coffee cup in the washtub.

  Adam strode inside. “I’m going to town, and you need to accompany me.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll see when we get there.” He dashed outside again and closed the door behind himself without one additional word of explanation.

  Willow stood, stunned. Was the request intended to resemble an order because of anger toward her? She couldn’t blame him. Her ultimatum had been rude and unfair to someone who’d treated her so well since hiring her last spring. She grabbed her hat and headed to the barn.

  Minutes later, she settled beside Adam on the ranch supply wagon seat, staring into space. He insisted she join him in town today, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why. Did this little journey have something to do with the wedding? Providing he still intended to marry her. After yesterday’s outburst, perhaps that was no longer in their future. Or had he simply wanted her company while he tended to business in Milestone? Either way she couldn’t recall him ever being this demanding or this secretive.

  “Have you decided to tell me what you’re up to?” She glanced his way, curiosity having gotten the best of her.

  “Nope.”

  She decided on a different tactic. “Is this a surprise?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then I’m not going to like it.” Willow sat arms crossed over her chest.

  “It’ll be painless. At least, for the most part.”

  For the most part? Good heavens, what had she gotten herself into? “Who put you up to this?”

  “Nobody. Idea came to me last night.” He glanced at her. “Thought it a good one.”

  “Davie thought climbing onto the barn roof to adjust the weather vane a good idea also. You know how that brilliant idea ended,” she ventured. The dang fool man had nearly brained himself when he slipped off and landed in back of the supply wagon. Which had probably caused less damage than if he’d landed on the hard-packed ground.

  Adam chuckled. “Shouldn’t have tried getting it unstuck during a rain storm. Roof was too slippery.”

  “Which any reasonable person would have deduced. Not Davie though.”

  “Couple days rest to heal the worst of the bruising and he was good as new.”

  “This time,” she scoffed. “Lord knows what he’ll attempt next.”

  “We’re here,” Adam announced, pulling up to the Milestone Community Church.

  Willow’s mouth dropped open. “Why are we here? If you think you’re dragging me to the altar today to get your way about—”

  Adam held up his hand and halted her outburst. “Calm down. We are not standing before any preacher today.”

  “Then why—”

  “You’ll see. Patience.”

  “Patience isn’t a strong suit of mine,” she huffed.

  Adam chuckled. “I’ve noticed. I love you dearly anyway,” he replied, leaning over and kissing her cheek before she realized his intentions.

  “Stop that when I’m annoyed with you.” Her fingers touched the spot he kissed, and she felt a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her best efforts to suppress it.

  “Come on. We’re here to see Mrs. Fitzpatrick. She’ll be inside helping with church cleaning day.” Adam reached up to help Willow out of the buggy.

  She leapt to the ground and stomped toward the church. “I’m furious with you. Meeting with the preacher’s wife, and me in my trousers. You should have warned me so I could have changed into a dress and looked presentable.”

  “Use the side door,” he called.

  Willow changed course and walked around the corner of the building. “I don’t see why we have to…”

  She hushed up when he took her hand and walked by her side. “No complaining, Willow. This shouldn’t take too long. At least, I’m hoping it won’t. But no never mind even if it takes all day. We’re not leaving here until we settle a few things.”

  “Settle a few things?”

  “Yes.”

  “With Mrs. Fitzpatrick?” She paused while he opened the door for her.

  Adam heaved a sigh. “One of the wisest women I know.”

  Willow preceded him inside where they both paused a second for their eyes to adjust to the interior.

  “Mrs. Fitzpatrick, are you here?” Adam called as they walked toward the office area.

  “In the storage room,” the preacher’s wife replied, poking her head around the corner. A broad smile appeared on her face when she spotted them. “Adam. And Willow. How nice to see you.”

  “Good morning, ma’am.” Adam watched the woman wipe her hands on a towel, toss it aside, and then meet them in the hallway. “Could we bother you for a bit of your time?”

  “Anything for young people.” She waved them toward the preacher’s office. “The preacher is visiting the sick today. I heard Mrs. Beaumont is under the weather again. Poor old dear. Eig
hty if she’s a day. But we can surely use the mister’s office in his absence. Please, both of you take a seat,” she chattered.

  “I’ve no idea why we’re here,” Willow muttered, seating herself on a ladder-back chair in the corner. “I wasn’t warned about our visit. I apologize for my appearance.”

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick waved off her concern. “Nonsense, young lady. Looks like you’re ready for a good day’s work and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Pull your chair closer,” Adam requested, sitting on the chair in front of the preacher’s desk. “We need to discuss our situation with an uninvolved third party.”

  “My, that sounds rather ominous.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick looked from one to the other. “What situation is that?”

  “We’ve recently become engaged and—”

  “Congratulations!” the preacher’s wife interrupted Adam, clasping her hands together. “To both of you! What wonderful news.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” Willow said, acknowledging the sentiment.

  “Yes, it is good news. Thank you,” Adam replied. “As I was saying, we’re betrothed but we’ve found ourselves in a bit of stalemate regarding Willow’s position on the ranch. Both now and after the ‘I dos’ are said.”

  “Stalemate?” The older woman peeked over at Willow. “What has he done?”

  * * *

  Adam leaned back in his chair, stunned by the question. Was his mediator taking sides already? He hadn’t even begun to explain his thinking on the matter.

  “Adam refuses to allow me to work with the Thoroughbred horses once we’re married. In fact, he doesn’t want me in the barns now, and we haven’t even set a wedding date.” Willow sat, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at her betrothed. It appeared she reckoned she had nothing to lose at this point and might as well state her position on the matter. “If I’m not allowed to work with the horses, I’m not marrying him.”

  Adam grimaced at the statement. Obviously, she wasn’t budging in her decision.

  “Oh, my.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick met Adam’s eyes. “Rather adamant about this, isn’t she?”

  “I call it stubborn.”

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick burst into laughter. “Yes, most men consider a woman stubborn when they’re not getting their way in a matter. I should know.”

  “What do you mean?” Willow met her eyes.

  “Shortly after we married, the good preacher informed me that I wasn’t to touch his horse and buggy. I inquired, how I should visit the female parishioners? He told me that I could visit with the community ladies on Sunday, either before or after the service.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick waved her hand. “Well, I decided that would not suffice, so one day I hitched the mare to the buggy. Goodness knows I was raised in the country and could have done it in my sleep. On my way out of Milestone, I dropped by the sheriff’s office to warn him that the preacher might be by to report someone had stolen his rig.”

  Willow covered her mouth with her hand, and Adam realized she was trying her best not to laugh aloud.

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick continued, “I assured Sheriff Robertson I knew what I was doing. And perchance the preacher hadn’t bothered to check in the house to see if I’d been stolen also, the sheriff was to inform my husband that I’d taken the buggy to visit out-of-town lady parishioners. My husband was not to worry, and I would be home by four o’clock to cook his supper.”

  Adam wouldn’t argue with the wife of a man of the cloth. But he didn’t agree with her telling of the tale. A wife should listen to her husband and adhere to his wishes. Especially when it came to his horse.

  “Oh, my. What happened when you returned home that night?” Willow smiled after managing to contain her laughter.

  “Preacher Fitzpatrick had sequestered himself in his study, so I busied myself preparing the evening meal. At the dinner table, he mentioned he’d been writing next Sunday’s sermon which I discovered on Sunday morning was entitled A Wife’s Place in the Home.”

  Willow burst into laughter. “Flying flapjacks! I would have loved to hear that,” she blurted and Adam watched her face flame.

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick chuckled. “Actually, the dear man preached on the virtues of marrying a woman with a propensity for independence. A woman capable of handling everyday chores as well as taking control of a situation when her husband is absent from the home, whether at his employment or having been called out of town. He ended with a few words suggesting a man should never underestimate the abilities of his beloved.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Absolutely,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick insisted. “He understood that my capabilities with the rig equaled my determination to carry out my home visits, and he reversed his thinking on the issue of me using the horse and buggy.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “Yes, it rather is.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick beamed. “There’s nothing more exhilarating than a lovely drive in the country on a spring day.”

  “Or riding bareback on a magnificent Thoroughbred, racing across a grassy valley with the wind in your hair and…” Willow blushed. “Perhaps that’s considerably less ladylike than driving a buggy.”

  “I understand completely, my dear. Of course, when the weather becomes inclement with the first snows, I stop my visits until spring. No need to put either myself or the mare in harm’s way.”

  “Only stands to reason,” Adam added, doubting the women would catch the sarcasm intended.

  “Do you see what I’m faced with, Mrs. Fitzpatrick?” Willow glared at him.

  Dang the girl! More intuitive than he’d expected, she’d caught him out with that remark. He wasn’t going to win this argument and he wasn’t prepared to lose her as his wife. “All right. I guess you could spend some of your time in the barns. But you certainly don’t need to be up at the crack of dawn to tend to the animals,” Adam conceded.

  “I should do my share of—”

  Adam shook his head. “No, you’ll be my wife, a McLennon, not a ranch hand. But you will certainly continue to oversee every birthing of the equine stock. No one matches your knowledge and experience there.”

  Willow met his eyes and he waited for her reply. His entire future depended on her agreement to his terms. He considered his compromise fair and he couldn’t imagine where she would find room for argument. Of course, there was no telling how a woman’s mind worked. And that’s precisely what kept life with a spouse interesting. He couldn’t wait to say the ‘I dos’ with her.

  She stood, hands on hips. “After breakfast, you’ll allow me in the barns without argument. And I’ll be free to saddle up one of the Thoroughbreds and go riding whenever the notion strikes, anytime of day. But I know you’ve worried about me riding bareback, so I won’t do that again.”

  “Sounds like a sensible arrangement and a reasonable compromise to me,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick said softly, meeting eyes with Adam.

  He nodded. “Agreed. Except on the Sabbath. Sundays will be our day to attend church, share time with family and friends, to enjoy quiet time together. No horses invited.”

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick smiled.

  Willow chuckled. “All right, except on Sundays. But I’m not the domestic type and I’m not learning how to cook. If we move into our own home one day, you’d better hire a housekeeper or you’re going to starve and you’ll never own a clean sock again.”

  “What if we have a baby?”

  “I’ll teach her how to deliver foals,” Willow teased, smiling.

  “Not before she learns how to walk,” Adam returned his own quip.

  “You two are going to be just fine. I’m looking forward to your nuptials.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick hugged Willow. “Let me know when you set a date.”

  “We will. And thank you for helping us settle our little difference of opinion.”

  “You’re welcome, dear. But you need to talk things out with your husband, and not always rely on a third party to intervene when working on a solution.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick wagged a finger at Adam. “And you take excellent care of this
young lady. She’s a very special person.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Adam replied. “And I couldn’t agree more. She’s exceptional and the only lady for me.”

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick clasped her hands together. “Good. Now off you go and plan your wedding. I’ve cleaning to finish.”

  Willow and Adam trailed behind Mrs. Fitzpatrick who waved goodbye to them at the side door. “See you on Sunday,” the preacher’s wife called.

  Adam assisted Willow into the buggy. He hadn’t gotten his way, but truthfully, he hadn’t expected to. No one could keep Willow out of a barn for long. She loved her horses too much, and she enjoyed working with them more than anything. But he’d made his point that as his wife, Willow needn’t carry on the schedule expected of a ranch hand.

  He seated himself on the bench beside her and then gazed into her eyes. “Are you satisfied with the understanding we’ve arrived at, sweetheart?”

  Willow smiled and wrapped her hand around his arm. “All I ever wanted was spending time with the horses. I’ll never be the totally domestic wife dressed in silks and satins, sipping tea in the parlor while working on my needlepoint.”

  “I know. But you’ll be a McLennon soon, and there’s no longer the need or expectation of you to work a ranch hand’s grueling hours.” Adam patted her hand and then flicked the reins, heading for home. “Just so we’ll have time to spend together and with the family. Share meals together. Alone time after a productive day’s work.”

  “Sounds wonderful. I remember Father and Mama drinking tea in the parlor and sharing their news while seated in their rocking chairs before a flickering fire. They’d kiss Leonard and me goodnight, looking perfectly content with life.”

  Adam smiled, remembering his parents sharing similar evenings together. He wanted nothing more than to find a wife to share an enjoyable life with, raise some young’uns, and grow old together. He’d found that woman in Willow. Now, he just needed her standing at the altar.

  “So what day would you like to get married?” he ventured.

  Willow smiled. “I’ve been thinking about something, and I believe I have an answer for you.”