The Eager Bride: The Ladies Club of Laramie

by West, Everly

  The Eager Bride

  The Ladies Club of Laramie

  Everly West

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  From The Author

  Also by Everly West

  The Eager Bride

  Copyright © 2019 Everly West

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design: Dar Albert

  Release date: April 2019

  This book and parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author and publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  Finally, she had time away from the noise and chatter of her family. As much as she loved them, Jane Farnsworth relished the silence of being alone. It was the perfect day for horseback ride, which she’d opted to do instead of going to town with her mother and two sisters.

  A huge flower field replete with yellow and white blossoms provided a perfect view of her family’s land. With the backdrop of green hills and the bright blue sky, it was much too beautiful a scene to ignore.

  Deciding to pick a few flowers, Jane dismounted. “Don’t go anywhere, Daisy. I’m going to be nearby.”

  Much more interested in nibbling on the grass than her, the horse remained in place as Jane strolled a few feet away to peer down at a particularly bright patch of yellow flowers.

  Boom. Boom.

  At the sounds, she whirled around toward the horse that seemed as startled as her. Daisy shook her head and shifted about nervously.

  Boom. Boom.

  Jane lowered to the ground and crab-walked to hide behind a short bush. Daisy reared up, kicking into the air, and then took off at a gallop toward the safety of home.

  Whoever was out hunting was about to get a talking to. Jane huffed and scanned the area, her heart pounding. Then again, she thought, if they were trespassers or poachers, it would be best to keep silent.

  Whistling a happy tune, a tall man came into view. Broad-shouldered with sandy brown hair and sharp features, he was rather attractive. He was also the owner of the new gunsmith shop in town, Michael O’Leary, a man she’d not been introduced to. What was he doing on Farnsworth property and why was he shooting?

  Michael O’Leary carried two rifles and it looked like several other guns in a pouch slung across his body. He passed where she was crouched, noticing her horse galloping away.

  He shrugged and once again began to whistle, walking in her direction. His eyes widened when she jumped from behind the bush.

  “What are you doing?” Jane screamed. With her fists clenched, she glared at the clueless man. “You scared my horse half to death. If I were still mounted, I would’ve certainly been injured.”

  His hazel gaze roamed over her. Either he was assessing her for injuries or the man was a scoundrel. “I couldn’t see if the horse was saddled or not. I wondered what it was doing out here.”

  “This is my family’s land. You can’t just go about shooting on private land. The least you could have done was ask if one of us was out here.”

  When he didn’t reply and, instead, continued to take her in, Jane huffed. Men could be so elementary. “Now I have to walk for over an hour to get home. When the horse returns without me, my family will be alarmed.”

  Then again, her father was out in the field overseeing the sale of a horse. Her mother and two sisters had gone to town. Since their mother was to attend one of her Ladies Club of Laramie meetings and her sisters took the opportunity to visit with friends, it was possible they wouldn’t return until late.

  Of course, O’Leary didn’t know this so she continued. “My father will have your hide for shooting out here and practically getting me killed.”

  Ever so slowly, once again, his gaze moved from her feet, up her breech-covered legs to her chest and finally met her gaze. “You don’t look to have fallen off a horse.”

  “Mr. O’Leary, have you not listened to a word I’ve said? I was dismounted... oh, never mind.”

  “I listened.” He gave her a lopsided and, much to her chagrin, alarmingly appealing grin. “May I escort you home? My wagon is over the crest there.” His Irish lilt meant his deep voice flowed over each word, which was quite lovely to hear. Not enough to sway Jane to forgive his inexcusable lack of manners. He’d yet to apologize profusely for what he’d done.

  “Of course you will take me home. I need to see about my horse. You gave her quite a fright. Poor thing, she’s already quite skittish.” As she spoke, she stalked in the direction he’d motioned. If this man thought she’d hold a friendly conversation with him, he was sorely mistaken.

  A beautiful chestnut horse grazed beside a serviceable wagon. Jane walked to it and waited.

  He rounded to the back of the wagon. O’Leary placed the guns down with care, each one atop a blanket and then rolled them up. Then he made quick work of harnessing the horse. The entire time neither spoke.

  The longer the stretch of silence, the more questions Jane had. She knew he’d not been in Laramie very long. Where did he move to Laramie from? Why had he been on their land shooting?

  Finally, she couldn’t bite her tongue any longer. “You’ve yet to apologize.”

  O’Leary frowned. “I’m sorry to have frightened you and your horse. Your father assured me there would be no one out here. I suppose you didn’t inform him you were going riding. Not a good idea for a beautiful woman to go out alone without telling anyone.”

  Somehow, he’d turned the apology into a scolding. Jane narrowed her eyes, deciding to let the annoyance pass for the moment. Obviously, the man was oblivious and hadn’t been taught manners.

  She stood at the side of the wagon eyeing the boards nailed on its side, which were meant to help people climb up. A loud yelp escaped Jane when O’Leary took her by the waist and easily lifted her up.

  “Stop it,” Jane shrieked and slapped at his hands. “You are much too familiar, Sir.”

  With what sounded like a chuckle, but she couldn’t be sure, O’Leary walked to the other side and climbed up. When he settled next to her, their legs touched. Jane fidgeted, uncomfortable with the proximity of his body. There wasn’t enough room to move on the narrow bench so she couldn’t scoot away. From under her lashes, she noted he didn’t seem a bit unsettled. As a matter of fact, she wondered if it were possible for him to sit with his legs not so far apart.

  How could she phrase the request without it being unseemly? Jane tried to come up with a way to ask, but failed.

  On the ride back, Jane did her best to ignore the muscled man as he handled the reins with the ease of someone used to his horse and the outdoors. The animal didn’t seem at all in a hurry or particularly interest in going in a straight line either.

  “Why don’t you correct your horse?” Jane asked, ire punctuating each word. “We are riding in some sort of crazy zigzag pattern.”

  A thick shoulder lifted and lowered. “Joe does what he wants most of the time. He went to war with me and has some kind of issue with being told what to do.” The man chuckled, made a clicking sound and barely snapp
ed the reins. “Joe, stop messing around.”

  The horse’s ears twitched and he sped up a bit, going mostly straight. O’Leary gave her a crooked grin. “He’s only listening now because you’re here. Otherwise, he would’ve stopped in his tracks, not moving until I apologized.”

  Despite being annoyed, she had to smile. “I think you’re making up stories now. I’m sure Joe is a great horse. He’s beautiful. However, I can imagine being at war was traumatic for him.”

  A frown was quickly done away with, but Jane noticed it. The horse was not the only one affected in ways most would not understand. She let out a breath and studied the sky. “Why did you come out here today?”

  “I needed to shoot these guns,” he said as he motioned with his head to the back of the wagon. “The trees out here buffer some of the noise, so it doesn’t bother people too much. Can’t shoot in town without scaring someone.”

  For some reason, Jane didn’t believe him. There was more to why he’d come out to the ranch. She eyed the horse and then the man. They’d been through a lot together. Both probably needed to be outdoors and alone to get peace.

  The Farnsworth ranch house came into view. Large corrals housed her father’s prized horses, separated according to whatever system he used.

  Just behind the house to the left were the stables. Next to them sat a smaller corral where horses were broken and trained.

  They had a large field that was farmed with wheat, corn and other grains. At the moment, there were men out at the field working and another pair in the smallest corral with a black and brown horse.

  “Your family’s ranch is like paradise. A perfect life for you and your family.” His comment was flat, without judgment, but for some reason it grated.

  “No one has a perfect life, Mr. O’Leary.”

  “Miss Jane!” Maribel, the cook and housekeeper, came rushing out, a horse handler and family friend, Ian, on her heels. “We just saw your horse and were about to alert your father.”

  It was then she noticed her horse grazing beside the house. Probably eating Maribel’s cabbages.

  Not waiting for O’Leary, she scrambled down from the wagon. “I’m fine, Maribel. Daisy was startled by a gunshot and ran off. Thankfully, I had already dismounted.” She gave O’Leary a pointed look.

  “Thank God for that,” Maribel replied, not looking at her, but smiling broadly at the Irishman. “Thank you so much for rescuing her, Mr. O’Leary. Come in for some freshly-baked cake.”

  “He is the reason...” Jane started, only to be interrupted by Ian.

  “I’ll take your horse to the stables, Jane.”

  “Release her to the corrals. She’s enjoying being out,” she replied, frowning toward Maribel and O’Leary, who walked toward the house.

  She glared at O’Leary’s back. “He’s the reason my horse got spooked,” she told Ian who nodded absently and then stuck out a hand toward Michael. “He must’ve not known you were out.”

  Jane rolled her eyes and hurried toward the house. If someone was going to eat cake, she’d get the first slice, not the annoying man who’d tried to kill her.

  * * *

  Michael hadn’t been in such a fine house before. The interior of the Farnsworth home was like nothing he’d ever seen. Fine furnishings, scattered rugs and oil paintings made him pause every other step. At the same time, something about the way things were placed made the home welcoming and comfortable. There were blankets thrown over the arms of overstuffed chairs, what look to be a knitting basket had been left on the floor next to one and a cat slept soundly on a perch that had been installed by a large window.

  With patters on the polished floor, a small dog hurried to greet him, its yaps loud enough to rouse the cat. The cat yawned and peered to the dog with a bored expression.

  “I hear there’s cake.” Franklin Farnsworth, Jane’s father came into the room. “Come along, let’s talk in the kitchen.”

  They walked into a huge kitchen and the man motioned to a dining table. “O’Leary, I didn’t expect you to return so soon.” Franklin, the patriarch of the family, was a man with friendly demeanor, in which the mind of a shrewd businessman was well hidden.

  “His shooting startled Miss Jane’s horse and it ran back. She was left standing out there so he brought her home,” Maribel informed him, placing plates with sliced cake before them. “I’ll pour coffee.”

  The man laughed. “I bet she’s fit to be tied.” Obviously Mr. Farnsworth knew his daughter well.

  “Yes, Sir. I got an earful.”

  Just then, Jane stalked into the kitchen. “I can’t believe you’re having a party in here. I could have been killed.” Her blue gaze shot toward Michael. “This man was out there shooting without regard.”

  Everyone turned to the beauty as she moved toward the cake. She cut a slice and slid it onto a small plate. “I do believe he should be chastised not celebrated, Father.”

  Mr. Farnsworth scowled at his daughter. “The one who needs to be reprimanded is you. How many times have I told you not to go riding without informing the family? You could have been shot.”

  Other than a huff in response, Jane went to a chair and sat. She proceeded to eat. “The cake is delicious as always, Maribel.”

  “Now, tell me what were you doing out there, Jane?”

  She gave her father a soft smile. “I wanted to see if Daisy was doing better. She seems to be skittish and awfully subdued lately.” Jane slid a glare to Michael. “I suppose today didn’t help.”

  “I’ll have Doc take a look at her. He’s due to come out in the next few days.”

  While father and daughter spoke, Michael took time to study Jane. He’d only seen her a couple of times when she’d come to town and happened to walk past his window. She was a rare beauty. With the darkest brown hair and bright blue eyes, the contrast was breathtaking.

  When her cheeks colored, Michael realized he’d been staring at her a bit too long. From under her long eyelashes, she raised her gaze to him and held it. There was a combination of challenge and, by the lift of her right eyebrow, interest.

  She wasn’t immune to him, he was sure. However, she was the daughter of a wealthy man, much too elevated in status for the likes of him. Not a woman he could ever aspire to. But it mattered little to him for he had no plans to court her or any other woman at the moment. It was enough to spend this bit of time with Jane Farnsworth.

  Just to know he was still able to render a woman’s attention would keep him happy for days.

  Not quite able to control, he allowed his gaze to move to her lips and then pushed his luck by meeting her gaze again.

  This time, both brows lifted as she attempted and failed to pay attention to what her father said. “I’m sorry, Father. What did you ask me?”

  “Why you didn’t go to town with your mother and sisters. I’d think you’d be anxious to go since you’ve been so eager to meet someone to marry.”

  “Father!” she gasped and her eyes widened. “Must you say such things in front of company?”

  Chapter 2

  Earlene Farnsworth and her daughters, Sybil and Beth, stood outside the hotel-bidding farewell to other members of the Laramie Ladies Club. It was hard to keep from rushing away. Already, they’d dawdled much too long. She hoped to stop by the bakery and the mercantile before heading home. With the two youngest along, it would be at least an hour at each location before they could leave as both girls had so many friends in town on that day.

  Across the street, she spotted one of the topics of conversation during the Ladies Club meeting. A very eligible bachelor, Thomas Carlson, and his father, Eugene, walked out of the bank and headed down the street away from them. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

  “Come along, girls. I must see about your dresses for the social before the dress shop closes.” She gave the other women a serene smile and fanned her face. “It’s rather a warm day, isn’t it? Look over there. Mrs. Hopper’s plants are wilted.” Purposely, she dir
ected everyone’s attention away from the two men who continued in the opposite direction.

  At the mention of the dress shop, several women immediately took their leave in an effort to beat Earlene and her daughters to see the dressmaker.

  “This way,” she whispered, grabbing both daughters’ arms and turning in the direction where the men had headed. “Hurry.”

  Sybil, the more vocal of the two, tugged her arm away. “Mother, I thought we were going to the dress shop.” She looked to where the others headed. “They’re going to get the lavender fabric I had my eye on.” Sybil pouted, her gaze moving from the dress shop to Earlene, but following nonetheless.

  “I just saw Eugene and Thomas Carlson. With luck, the other son, Wesley, is also about.”

  “Seriously, Mother, what are we going to say once we get to them?” Beth asked. The quieter of her daughters worried her bottom lip. “It’s most embarrassing to chase after them.”

  And to think she thought the younger generation was brave and prone to take chances. The older her daughters became, the more prudish they seemed to get.

  “Hush and come on.”

  When they rounded the corner, the Carlsons stood outside the gunsmith shop door. It seemed to be closed, which set the perfect situation.

  “Oh, hello, Eugene,” Earlene said with a wide smile. “Enjoying the warm weather?”

  Eugene Carlson had always been a handsome man. At one point, Earlene had considered herself besotted. However, whatever infatuation she had came to an abrupt halt at meeting Franklin Farnsworth.

  Eugene’s hazel gaze met hers and his lips curved from under his thick gray moustache.

  “Nice to see you, Earlene,” he replied and tipped his hat to her and both girls. “How lovely you all look.”

  The girls smiled, a bright pink appeared on Sybil’s cheeks as she slid a gaze toward Thomas, who remained quiet, but also touched the brim of his hat.