He took a sip of coffee. “I didn’t invite her to come, Hallie. I didn’t give her any sort of encouragement.”
She stared into his eyes, deep and dark in the fading light. Eyes she could stare into forever. But that wasn’t going to happen, at least, not to her. She blinked and looked away. “I know. But maybe she thinks it is a good way to get to know you before you are married.” She turned her attention to her coffee cup.
He leaned across the table, his strong arms sliding on the smooth pine planks. A pleading spark in his eyes. “You’ve got to help me. Help me write a letter explaining to her that she can‘t come right now.”
She stared at the letter, read the lines about how much she wanted to come to Chance and meet him. Get married right away, if possible. Hallie offered a grim smile. “Alright. But you‘ll have to give me a few days to think about it.” Somehow, she would come up with the right words to tell Miss Bradley that this was not a good time to come.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Thank you. I’m just not any good handling this sort of thing.”
She searched her mind, but had no memory of reading etiquette on turning away a mail order bride or groom. It was going to take a lot of consideration.
Chapter 28
Hallie blinked her sleepy eyes and stared at the mass of leaves and thorns growing wild and free on the rail fence. What a mess they were. But then, everything seemed a muddle these days. Ethan’s problem with Miss Bradley, her probable rejection by Mr. Westbury, another note from Rob wanting more money. And those horrid roses. It was time she trimmed them back before they completely engulfed her rail fencing.
A voice inside warned her not to do such a thing when she was indulging a bad attitude, but she had to do something to relieve all the jumble of thoughts in her brain.
Clippers in hand, she began lopping off the long, swaying strands, and clipping away the mass of dead flowers. Her mother had brought these very roses from Arkansas when they had come to Texas years ago. Her Pa had warned that they probably wouldn’t grow in Texas, but Mother had insisted. And she had been right. They had taken to the ground as if it was Arkansas soil. But then, mother could grow almost anything.
A whinny from a horse and the sound of clopping hooves caught her attention. She stood straight and looked over the fence. Someone was coming up the hill to the house. A man. She hastily pulled the apron from her dress and smoothed her hair. Taking the clippers, she headed back to the porch, and stood near the door, waiting.
The closer he came, the more familiar he looked. Her eyes narrowed. The man that arrived yesterday on the stage. He was wearing the same clothing as the day before, and she noticed that his shirt was as wrinkled as if he’d slept in it. Closer to him, she could see that the suit was in need of a good cleaning.
What was he doing way out here? Possibly he was lost and wanting directions. She took a step down from the porch as he pulled the horse to a stop.
His feet on the ground, he removed his hat. “Miss Bolton?”
Underneath his hat was a head of dark, oily hair, in much need of soap and water. It had been a few days since his face had felt a razor, too. “Yes.” How did he know her name? She’d never seen him before yesterday.
A smile crossed his face, revealing a mouth of broken, gray teeth. “Miss Bolton, may I present myself to you. My name is Charles Westbury.”
Hallie’s jaw dropped. No. Please, please no.
***
She poured the man another cup of coffee. At least there had been no need to think of conversation with him. He had talked non-stop since arriving. She offered a slight smile and sat across from him. It briefly crossed her mind that he was sitting in Ethan’s place.
“And so, as I said, I know you’re surprised to see me, but I thought it best to come on and look over the situation myself.”
What situation was he talking about? “Such as?”
“Well, the ranch. The working part of course. And is this the main house or the one for the foreman?”
“It is the only house I have. I described the ranch to you in my letter, Mr. Westbury.”
“Well, a little, I suppose. You didn’t give much information about it.”
So much for saving it for the next letter. “It was only a letter of introduction, Mr. Westbury. I’m at a loss as to why you are here.” Because if his letter to her, had he bothered to write, had been any indication of what was sitting across from her, he would never have been invited to come to Chance.
His cheeks reddened. “That’s a fine way to talk to your future groom, Miss Bolton.”
Hallie opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of any response. This man might be a lot of things, but he was not her future husband.
“Now, how about we get on with a tour of the ranch. I don’t want to find this a wasted trip.”
Hallie stared. “There’s really not much to see, Mr. Westbury. There’s a barn right out back here. A little of the land is barb-wired, but not much of it. Folks here are just now coming around to thinking fencing off the land is a good thing.” And there was no need for him to see the ranch anyway. He wouldn’t be staying much past another cup of coffee.
He gave a short laugh. “Maybe we should talk about this later.” He stared at the clock on the shelf above the stove. “I have an appointment for a game of poker at the saloon in town. I don’t want to be late. The ranch will still be here tomorrow,” he chuckled, pushing himself up from the ladder-backed chair.
Hallie followed him to the door, still searching for the right words to send him on his way. She didn’t want to spend another minute of her life with this man.
He stepped over to his horse and pulled himself up, huffing a large breath when he finally landed on the saddle. “Mighty warm out here,” he commented.
Hallie finally found her voice. “I thought you were a ranch foreman, Mr. Westbury. You should be used to weather such as this.”
He shrugged and a blush of red flashed across his face. “Ranch manager, mostly. Kept the accounts. I don’t do much outside work. Men like me have talents that keep us out of the really hard, dirty work,” he laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, miss. We’ll discuss what an asset I can be to your ranch and your life. And we can make plans for our marriage when we talk.”
He turned the horse and was gone before she could reply. Hallie folded her arms in front of her and swallowed back a sob. What had she done? This was a hundred times worse than Ethan’s situation. At least Miss Bradley was still back in Georgia.
She watched the cloud of dust on the road until it faded from sight. If only the horrid man would keep riding and riding, right out of her life.
She sunk to the ground and buried her head in her hands as the sob burst from deep within her throat. What was she going to do?
Chapter 29
He tucked his thumbs under his collar and leaned back, offering a smug expression. “I’m sorry Miss Bolton, but you have misrepresented yourself!”
Anger swelled in her throat. “How dare you accuse me of such! Everything I wrote to you was true!”
He laughed. “Fine ranch.” He leaned closer to her. “You wrote you owned a fine ranch. Why, it’s nothing more than a bunch of scrub woods that needs cleaned out. And where’s the livestock? Can’t have a ranch without livestock,” he stated.
If she was a man, she would punch him in the face. She might regret it afterwards, but at the moment, she doubted it. “This is a fine ranch. Always has been. It’s been out of commission for a few years, but I’m working on it. Something you would have known, had you waited for my letter,” she spat.
“So now it’s my fault you lied? You’re not the kind of woman I’m looking for, Miss Bolton!”
“Well that’s a good thing, because you’re certainly not the kind of man I’m looking for. A ranch foreman and a ranch manager are hardly the same. A few letters from you and I would have known the truth about you.”
“So, I guess I’ve wasted my money coming all the way out
here?”
She was unsure of what he meant by the question. She was not going to offer to pay his fare back to Kansas City. The man had come uninvited and he would be leaving on his own ticket. “You are more than welcome to leave at any time, Mr. Westbury. And the way you have spent your money is none of my concern.”
“I’ll remind you that I only came based on your correspondence. I would think you might be willing to offer a small amount in consolation.”
“Then just consider your own words. Your consolation is that you won’t be marrying what you call a dishonest woman. Now get off of my ranch before I go retrieve my shotgun!”
***
“I can make him leave right now, if you want,” Ethan offered, taking another bite of his peach pie.
Hallie shook her head and pushed the pie tin a little closer to him. It was sad and sweet at the same time, this big brother role that Ethan had adopted. Sweet that he wanted to protect her, sad that he thought of her as little sister, and not a woman that he could love.
“No. He knows there’s no hope that we’ll be wed. Whatever he does now is none of my business. He seems to enjoy gambling, so I imagine that he will head back to Kansas City where the games have higher stakes.”
Ethan shrugged and reached for his coffee cup. “I figure Miss Bradley will be getting my letter in another week or so. Then I won’t have to worry about her showing up on my doorstep.”
She couldn’t tell by his tone if he was happy or nervous about the letter. Had he changed his mind? “Are you sorry you sent it? Do you wish you’d waited and thought it over first?”
Ethan coughed and almost choked on his coffee. He grabbed his napkin and wiped his lips. “No. I’m just hoping that she gives up on me or doesn’t respond at all. She’s probably heard from some other men by now. Surely someone wants her to come right away.”
Hallie added a spoonful of sugar to her steaming cup and stirred, watching the tiny whirlpool of hot liquid. “I don’t think I’m going to try for another groom. I can’t take all the suspense,” she added with a laugh. She dared a peek at him to see his reaction to her announcement.
Ethan stared at his pie, picking the crust with his fork. “I’m giving up, too.” His eyes met hers.
Hallie’s breath caught and she looked away. No need to let ‘big brother’ see her feelings. “Well, it was an adventure, I guess,” she said. Pushing back her chair, she stood and carried her plate to the counter. “Go ahead and cut another piece of pie, if you like.”
Silence greeted her. She turned to see him still busy moving the crumbs around his plate. He was unusually quiet tonight. Maybe he really did wish that he’d reconsidered Miss Bradley’s offer. “Ethan?”
Jarred from his thoughts he looked at her. “What? Oh, no thank you. Best I be going on home,” he said, standing and taking the plate to her. “Thanks for the pie and coffee.”
***
Hallie stood on her porch waving. “Goodbye,” she called.
He waved and gave one last look before pulling the brim of his hat lower on his brow. The expression on her face tore at his heart. He’d never seen her look so sad or upset. Not even that day at the picnic when he’d made a complete fool of himself. A memory he’d like to erase from his mind, but remembering the incident might keep him humble and remind him to think before he took action.
It was a brief thought, but he could go on into town, find Charles Westbury, and break his nose. Or arms. Or, better yet, maybe even his legs. The nose would be the most reasonable, as the man would be able to travel and still do a good bit of suffering. Which was the goal.
Of course, it would mean that the sheriff might arrest him and force him to pay a fine for assault. It seemed a misuse of his hard earned cash to waste it on anything having to do with a scoundrel like Charles Westbury.
Heading up the hill to the lonely cabin, it occurred to him that he could turn around at that exact moment and be in Chance in another forty minutes, if he encouraged Danby to pick up his pace. That would give him plenty of time to take a swing at the man before dark set in. Or at least intimidate him enough to convince him that tomorrow would be the best day to take the stage out of town.
Doubt rumbled inside of him. This wasn’t an action that Hallie would approve. She would think he was lowering himself to the man’s own standards. He sighed. He had probably done enough to embarrass her, already. Calling attention to himself for her sake was not something she would appreciate. And she was probably right.
But the thought of taking matters into his own hands was too appealing. He reined in the horse and turned. “Let’s go, boy!”
Chapter 30
Main street appeared all but deserted in the dusky light, save the horses tied outside the saloon and a couple of few cowpokes standing around the sidewalk, deep in conversation. An occasional cheer sounded from inside the establishment, loud enough to cover the lively piano tune. No doubt, Westbury would be in there, deep in a game of cards.
Ethan guided Danby to an empty spot and sung down.
“Hey Kane!”
He turned to see Wally Stoner hailing him from just up the street. Securing the reins, he walked toward the man, meeting him half a block up. “Good evening, Wally,” he greeted the man.
Wally, his long hair pulled back in a leather string nodded. “It is that. Look at that sunset. Gonna be a sunny one tomorrow.”
Ethan studied the sky and agreed. “We could use a little rain, though.”
“We could. Uh, reason I called you. A fellow got off the stage this afternoon looking for you.”
Ethan’s head swiveled. “Someone looking for me?”
“Older fella. Kinda stooped. Said he hadn’t seen you in over twenty years. I told him you had a ranch outside of town. I hope that was alright. He looked harmless enough,” he added.
Ethan rubbed his fingers over his jaw, trying to ease the tension as he forced his lips into what he hoped looked like a pleasant smile. “Sure. That’s fine. I don’t guess he told you his name?”
Wally shook his head. “No. He didn’t seem much like he was interested in conversation.”
He wouldn’t be. He was a man that enjoyed words written on paper, not out of the mouth. Not face to face with another human. He was a man that would rather read a book than spend time teaching his young sons how to fish or hunt for food for their meager pantry. No time to carry the wash water for his wife, either. Considered himself too good for such menial tasks.
“Well, I’ll go look him up,” Ethan nodded. He should have answered that letter. He never thought that the man would show up here, actually have the nerve to come and see him. Look him in the eye.
Wally appeared relieved that he hadn’t spoken out of turn. “I believe he’s taken a room over at Miller’s Boarding House.”
“Thanks.”
Back on Danby, Westbury forgotten, he urged the horse forward at a slow pace. No need to get there too fast. And thinking of something to say to the man was impossible. All these years, he’d never even imagined a conversation, should he be granted one, with his father. The fact that J. T. Kane was out of his life had been good enough for him.
He slowed Danby even more as he approached the house where his father was staying. He could see several men on the wide porch, hear their jovial voices as they visited in the cool evening air. One man sat off to the side, his head down, as if he had fallen asleep in the rocker.
Ethan gritted his teeth. That would be him. Maybe his father was too worn out from his travels and would give him the advantage of approaching first. What do I say to him, Lord? He was easier to forgive when he was dead. When I walk up there and stand face to face with him, every muscle in my body will beg me to double up my fist and give him what he deserves. I thought it was all settled between us. But, now, I don’t know what to do. Those old feelings of hate that I had buried, thought were gone forever, are back, haunting me, day and night since that letter.
Chapter 31
Ethan nodded to the m
en in the rockers, ignoring their curious stares as he made his way to the sleeping man. He pulled a decrepit, ladder-backed chair, cane seat sagging, up beside the snorer. A wave of shock coursed through him at the appearance of the man. J. T. had been a small man, but always strong, like himself. Now, he was shrunken, bent and thin. His skin was gray as the weathered boards on Hallie’s barn. Maybe too many years of drinking had finally come home to him. Ethan gave a slight cough and waited.
The older man roused and looked up, confusion clouding his face as observed his surroundings.
Ethan swallowed. J.T. Kane was nothing but an old, sick man. “Hello, Pa.” The words were quiet and strangled as he forced them from his throat. He’d practiced calling this man so many more names in years past. But seeing him in this condition had taken away some of the sting in his thoughts.
Pale blue eyes, all but sunken in a mass of wrinkles, narrowed as they stared into Ethan’s face. “Ethan? Is that you, son?”
Ethan nodded, not trusting what might come out of his mouth next. Hate and pity churned in his gut, mixing a burning concoction that began to work its way to his chest. And worse, hot tears sprung behind his eyelids. If this man had been the father and husband that he should have, Ethan’s mother might still be alive. Gilbert, as well.
It took every fiber of his being not to get up and storm off the porch, leaving this old man to grovel in whatever amends he had come to make. But something inside insisted that he stay and make peace, if it was possible.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” the gravelly voice said, as the speaker leaned back in the chair, a sigh escaping his thin lips. “Not that I would blame you. I don’t deserve for you to even speak to me, boy. But I had to come. Had to try and make things right between us.”
Ethan's Wild Rose Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 2) Page 16
