She sighed with pleasure as she watched Lance working alongside Zachariah, his lean muscles flexing underneath his shirt. She giggled as Barbara nudged her shoulder. “I’m so fortunate, Barb,” she whispered.
“You are,” Barbara said as she watched Isabelle race off to play with Peter and Simon. “You didn’t squander your chance at happiness. Many would have.”
Eleanor fought a shudder. “I almost did.” She looked at her friend as Barbara stared at her with curiosity. “I sent him away. And he left.” She paused as she watched him tease Zachariah, and then both men laughed. “He returned to me and ran into a burning house to save me.”
Barbara fought tears as she gripped Eleanor’s hand. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t.”
“I know Zachariah would have tried, but he was already exhausted and ill after saving the boys from upstairs. I fear both of us would have died had he attempted to reenter the house.” Eleanor wrapped an arm around her waist and let out a deep breath as she let go of the residual fear and anxiety that lingered every time she thought about what could have happened.
“Focus on your future, Eleanor. Soon you will be married to the man you love.”
Eleanor nodded as she watched Lance work. “Yes, soon we will be married.”
* * *
That evening, Lance leaned against the paddock in the gentle breeze as he stared at the skeleton of the house that would be the home he would share with Eleanor, Peter, and Simon. Lance marveled at all the men had completed in one day, his appreciation for Winthrop’s ability to motivate his men growing the longer he was in the man’s presence. Lance smiled as Eleanor approached, and he opened his arms to her.
She snuggled into his embrace for a moment before turning to face the construction. He tugged her back against his front, his arms wrapped around her middle. He breathed in her subtle scent and kissed her neck. “There’s my Ellie,” he murmured and smiled as she giggled.
“It will be a beautiful home,” she whispered as she stared at the house.
“It will be because you will live there. I could live in a sodbuster’s palace and be happy, as long as I was with you, Ellie, and the boys.” He released her when she squirmed against him.
“Truly?” she asked.
He nodded and frowned when he saw doubt in her gaze. “I love this land. I won’t deny it. I’ve always wanted to live on a ranch that prospered.” He frowned as he saw his words provoked panic. He cupped her face. “But I will never want anything more than I want you and the boys.”
She sighed and leaned into his embrace. “I’m being foolish.”
“Tell me,” he urged when she remained silent.
“I’ve allowed Sterling’s bitterness to sully our happiness.” She felt him stiffen, and she squeezed him with her arms. “He taunted me that you only wanted me for the ranch. That no man would truly want me.” She paused. “Especially because I had the boys.”
Lance stepped away to again bracket her face with his palms. “I don’t know who I fell in love with first. You or your boys. I can’t imagine a life without any of you. Please believe me, Ellie.”
She smiled at him and nodded. “I do.” She frowned as she saw him grimace.
“I haven’t been forthright with you,” he whispered.
She tilted her head and paled. “What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes rounded with fear.
He gripped her arm to still her erratic movements. “No, Ellie. There’s no need for panic.” His soothing voice calmed her, and he waited until she stilled. “I have money set aside. From when I sold my homestead.” He cleared his throat. “After Amy died, I had no desire to live alone on the ranch I had hoped to share with her and our children. I no longer saw a future there. So I sold it to a man like Sterling. And then I began to drift. I deposited the proceeds in the bank when I arrived in town.”
“Why did you never tell me?” she whispered. “Why not buy your own place?”
He shrugged. “It’s not enough for a parcel of land with water rights. And without water in Nevada, what’s the point?” He looked at her. “Besides, I had promised myself I would drift until I died. I never planned on settling down again.” He smiled at her as she leaned into him again. “And then I met you and the boys, and I found my dreams of drifting fading as I was seduced by the promise of a family.”
“Oh, Lance,” she whispered.
“I want you to know it means your concerns about finances are eased. If the cattle prices remain low this year, we will be fine.” He kissed her brow. “We have money to buy another spinning wheel and to replace what was lost in the fire.” He held her gaze. “And there is plenty of money for a beautiful wedding dress.” He smiled as she flushed.
“As long as there are enough funds for a new suit for the bridegroom,” she whispered. He laughed and hauled her close.
“Oh, there are,” he said as he hugged her. “I fear I’ll run out of patience before the clothes are ready.” He continued to hold her as dusk descended and the evening chilled. “Soon, Ellie, soon we will be married.”
Epilogue
At the end of September, Lance paced at the front of the church as he awaited Eleanor’s arrival. Peter and Simon sat on a pew in front of him, tugging at their wedding finery and arguing over who could give him the ring. He shook his head and looked at the boys. “Whatever you do, don’t lose it.”
Peter’s eyes rounded, and he nodded as he grabbed the ring out of Simon’s palm. When Simon complained, Lance cleared his throat, and Simon kicked his heels on the floor.
Lance looked at the pews rapidly filling with townsfolk, and he was surprised how many of them he recognized. Some were from the weekly church services. Others he knew from the house raising. He grimaced as he saw Sterling Hayden enter and nodded to the man who sat in a prominent seat in the church. After a moment, he ignored the man and focused on those he had begun to consider friends.
Soon the crowd hushed, and he looked down the aisle. “Ellie,” he whispered in awe as he saw her standing beside Zachariah in a cream-colored dress with little ornamentation. She had opted for a simple wedding dress so they could wed sooner. The simplicity of the dress highlighted her natural beauty, and he focused on the joy shining in her eyes. He took a deep breath as he waited for her to slowly walk toward him, his gaze never leaving hers.
“My Ellie,” he whispered as he took her hand.
“Lance,” she murmured with a bright smile. They turned to face the preacher, although Lance barely heard a word of the service.
After what seemed like two minutes, Reverend Brown asked for the ring. Lance turned to Peter and frowned as the boy looked at him with panic-stricken eyes. “Don’t tell me you lost it,” Lance whispered.
Peter shook his head and held up his hand where the ring was stuck on his thumb.
Eleanor giggled, and Lance rubbed at his head as he fought a smile. “I fear the ring is … already in use, sir,” Lance murmured.
Reverend Brown furrowed his brow and then smiled broadly as he saw what had occurred. “Aye, I fear you didn’t want to misplace the ring, although I doubt you foresaw this happening, did you, lad?” He pursed his lips as he thought and then opened his Bible. “Come, place your hand in the Bible.”
Peter gaped at him and then placed his hand inside the opened Bible. The reverend winked at the boy and continued his sermon. He cleared his throat when he got to the part where Lance was to place the ring on Eleanor’s finger. “Come.” He gripped Peter’s hand and motioned for Eleanor to hold it. He then placed Lance’s hand over both of theirs. Simon pushed in, wanting to be part of the ceremony, and soon all four of their hands were clasped.
“Seems appropriate,” Reverend Brown murmured to the chuckling congregation. He finished the ceremony as Lance stared into Eleanor’s eyes, one hand over hers and Peter’s, the other cradling Simon’s head.
He leaned forward to kiss her after they were pronounced husband and wife, and murmured, “This is how it will always
be. We’ll always be a family.” He kissed her softly and then hugged each of the boys. “Walk down the aisle behind us,” he murmured to Peter and Simon and held out his elbow to Eleanor who beamed at the congregation.
Soon they were outside accepting well-wishes from all in attendance except Sterling Hayden who had slipped out of the church after they said their vows. Simon and Peter had run off to play with their friends, and Eleanor had murmured, “Oh my. I hope he doesn’t lose the ring.”
Lance shook his head in resignation and then focused on the long line of friends who wanted to speak with them. As the line petered out, he saw Mrs. Brown standing beside Peter. She appeared pleased with herself.
“Go ahead, boy,” she urged.
Peter opened his fist and held out the ring to Lance. “Mrs. Brown helped me,” he said with a grimace.
“Nothing a little soap and water couldn’t fix,” Mrs. Brown said with a nod. “Come along, there are others waiting to wish them well.”
Peter scampered away to play with Ishmael and other friends while Lance slipped the ring onto his wife’s finger. “Now I feel as though we are properly married,” he said with a contented sigh.
She giggled and leaned into his side. “I will never forget that ceremony. Thank you for wanting the boys to be part of the ceremony.”
He traced a tendril of loose hair along her forehead. “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
After they thanked the final guest, he tugged her to the side of the church. She frowned as she knew they were expected at the town hall for a wedding feast. “No,” he whispered. “I wanted to say something before we joined the others. Here beside the church.” He took a deep breath. “I know we’ve said our vows in front of the reverend and congregation. But these are my vows to you.”
He waited a moment and then said in a deep, true voice, “I vow to always love you. To always ensure your happiness. To work hard every day to see you smile. There is no treasure greater to me than your laughter or your joy or that of the boys’ well-being.” He kissed her palm. “Thank you for becoming my wife.”
Tears coursed down her cheek, and she cupped his face as she stared into his eyes. “I vow to never take your love for granted. To always trust you. And to never let fear overcome my love for you.” She smiled at him.
“We will have a wonderful life,” he whispered.
“Yes,” she breathed as she arched up to meet his kiss. “The most wonderful life.”
Acknowledgments
Thank you, Melissa, for starting SPP and for choosing me to be a part of the first set of authors to write in the historical series.
Thank you to the my fellow authors of PBRR—it was so much fun writing this series with you!
Thank you, Jefe and Barry, for helping me with this title. I wouldn’t have come up with such a wonderful title without brainstorming with you!
Thank you to my wonderful beta readers who always help me see plot holes and help me think through conundrums.
Thank you, DB, for your wonderful editing!
And, finally, I couldn’t do what I love without readers who love what I write. Thank you, dear reader, for always being so enthusiastic about everything I write and for taking a chance on a new series!
Sneak Peek
Read the first chapter of ARRIVING FROM ARKANSAS, book 1 of the Pioneer Brides of Rattlesnake Ridge…
Josephine Lane read the words again, for what must have been the thousandth time this week alone. She’d tucked the small newspaper clipping into the envelope containing her offer of employment, and she’d unfolded the letter and the clipping dozens of times on the long journey here, by horse and cart, then by riverboat, and finally the last leg of the trip by rail. She’d arrived in Reno, Nevada the night before, and now, on the stage ride from Reno to the place her uncle had always called “the Ridge,” she found herself opening the envelope once more, running her fingers over the printed words, wondering if she’d made the right decision.
You can do this, Josie-girl, she thought to herself. You cooked for Pa. You baked him bread. You churned him butter. And he never complained. So maybe you didn’t learn how to cook from no highfalutin chef uncle from Philadelphia like you said in your application. It won’t matter to a bunch of dirtwater miners and loggers. All they’ll care about is getting a home-cooked meal.
That’s what she’d told herself ever since she’d sent in her application. Two months ago, it had seemed a perfectly rational argument. Now, though—the guilt had been building in her ever since she’d stepped on the train to Reno. She shouldn’t have lied, not for something like this. Not when the lie could so easily turn around and bite her like the snake the town derived its name from. But she’d been desperate. She had to get to Nevada. And when an opportunity like this all but fell into her lap—travel expenses paid and all—she couldn’t let that chance slip away from her.
Besides, it hadn’t been a complete lie. Her uncle had been from Philadelphia originally, before heading off to the California gold fields and then the silver hills of Nevada. Surely he’d had to cook for himself during those years on his own; he may have even been a fine cook. He just hadn’t been a chef, nor had he taught Josie anything. Not about cooking, at least.
She bit her lip, her eyes looking over the words once more without seeing them. Just a small lie. One of many.
“Letter from a sweetheart?”
Josie started at the voice. She’d all but forgotten about the other passengers on the stage: an elderly couple on their way to Virginia City, and a younger man, likely in his late twenties or early thirties. The couple—the woman beside Josie and her husband seated across from them beside the younger man—had both fallen asleep shortly after the stage had departed this morning. The younger man, though, had remained alert but utterly silent, looking out the window at the pine-covered mountains and, beyond, blue snatches of the massive body of water that straddled the California-Nevada border, Lake Bigler (or, as the stage driver had informed them this morning, more commonly known by the locals as Tahoe). But now the forested mountains had given way to a reddish rocky cliffside, and the man had turned his attention inward, eyeing Josie with curiosity. And now, as the afternoon light streamed in sideways through the stage’s window, Josie noticed for the first time how handsome he in fact was: raven-colored curls peeked out from under his hat, brushing across his tanned forehead, and his gray eyes sparkled in the sunshine. He had a strong, square jaw that softened with the easy smile he now offered her.
She straightened, schooling her voice with practiced care into the refined tones of her mother’s upper-class Philadelphia accent. “Certainly not,” she replied, glancing at the sleeping woman beside her, hoping the man’s words hadn’t awakened her.
“My mistake,” the man said, his smile not wavering. “When I heard you were traveling to the Ridge, I assumed it was to meet someone. I understand very few young ladies travel out here for any other reason.”
Josie bristled even as her cheeks warmed at the man’s smile. She felt exposed, as though this handsome stranger could see right through her. As if he knew her real reason for being here had nothing to do with the newspaper ad or offer of employment in her hand. She swallowed, and said in a smooth, clipped voice, “I am here for employment purposes, sir.”
“Ah, I see,” the man replied easily. “So we’re here for similar purposes. I was hired by Jacob Winthrop as foreman in his new lumber mill, in the hills west of town. It’s nice to know I won’t be the only newcomer in town.”
Josie relaxed a little. She needed to not be so jumpy. The man was merely making conversation. He wasn’t trying to pry into her true reasons for coming here. It was her own nerves making her feel this way, and she needed to get a handle on them or she would never last a week here. “No, you won’t be. I’ve accepted the position of cook at the local boarding house.”
“Oh, Miz May’s?” When Josie looked at him curiously, he shrugged. “Mr. Winthrop filled me in on some details about the
town. Your employer is a highly respected pillar of the community. Her boarding house has an excellent reputation. I hope you’ll be happy there.”
“Thank you, Mr.…?”
“Griffin,” he replied quickly, flashing her another disarming smile. “Jim Griffin. Lately of Otsego, Michigan.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Griffin. I’m Josephine Lane.”
If he noticed the way she sidestepped mentioning where she was from, he didn’t give any indication. He simply replied, “The pleasure is mine, Miss Lane.” They rode in silence for a moment; then Mr. Griffin added, “We should be there soon. Not a tree to be seen from where I’m sitting. We must be close to where the old mine was located. You know much about the Ridge’s history, Miss Lane?”
Josie’s spine stiffened involuntarily, but she tried to cover it by shifting in her seat, adjusting her bonnet on her head. “I’m afraid not,” she said, “though I have heard much about the silver riches of Nevada. There’s a mine here?”
“Used to be. And it’s Mr. Winthrop’s hope that there will be again, sometime soon. The way I understand it, the Spanish Main mine was only in operation for a year or so, about ten, twelve years ago. This area’s known for flash flooding, and a big rainfall in the winter of…oh, I think it must have been fifty-eight, maybe…triggered a cave-in. The whole mine was a loss. Fifteen men lost their lives.”
“How terrible,” Josie said.
Mr. Griffin nodded. “It took its toll on the town, that’s for sure. Then a couple months later there was the Comstock strike down in Virginia City. Most prospectors packed up and moved south. Rattlesnake Ridge was all but a ghost town until Winthrop bought it out.”
Drifting from Deadwood: The Pioneer Brides of Rattlesnake Ridge, Book 6 Page 15
