Ethan's Wild Rose Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 2)

by Mary L. Briggs

  Ethan’s ears rang with the silence behind them. The rest of the porch sitters were listening to their words. He cleared his throat. “How about we go inside to your room and talk?”

  His father’s watery eyes glanced at the group on the other end of the porch. “Sounds fine to me.”

  Ethan took hold of his arm as he began to stand. His father tottered before balancing himself on his feet. A tremor jolted through Ethan as he realized how frail the man really was. The years had not been kind to J.T. Kane.

  ***

  The room was small and stuffy. The board floor was clean, but the flowered wall paper was stained and torn in spots. A thin, brown blanked covered the bed and a small table against the wall held a vase with wilted wildflowers. A well-worn dark suit and wrinkled white shirt hung from a nail on the opposite wall. They were probably his father’s sole possessions.

  Ethan settled the man in the one chair and then walked to the window, cracking it for a bit of air. Anything to stall the conversation his father wanted to have. There were no words the man could say that could make Ethan forget the past. Even now, his mother’s sweet face floated across his mind. If she had been able to eat better, had a little more help than two young boys could give her, she might have survived her illness. How could he forgive the man for what he had done?

  And Gilbert, lying in that ditch, dead from a night of drinking and gambling. A sight that was burned into his memory forever. Ethan had never blamed the young man for his ruin. His brother had learned by example. But somehow, their father had managed to survive his wild years. In his heart, Ethan wished that it had been their father that had drowned in that ditch of filthy water.

  A sob caught in his throat and he pushed it back. His mother and Gilbert had deserved so much more out of life. But now, his father was old and frail. He couldn’t live much longer. The least he could do was listen to what he had to say.

  His father’s voice broke his thoughts. “Come over here and sit down on the bed, boy. There’s some things I need to tell you.”

  Ethan turned and obeyed. Even in his weakened state, his father still had a commanding way of speaking. He sat on the end closest to the chair in which his father sat. I am going to do the best I can to listen to him, Lord. But I can’t guarantee how I’ll handle all of it. Please, don’t let me do something that I will regret later. He looked full in his father’s face, “What is it, sir.”

  “Sir? I’m surprised you addressed me that way. And I can see by your face that it is the same with you.”

  Ethan nodded. “Just go on.” He omitted the sir this time. No need letting the old man think he’d forgotten the past that stood between them.

  The elderly man nodded. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time. Started back at the house. Folks in the town told me about your mother. And about poor Gilbert.” He paused and stared at the floor, as if deep in thought.

  Ethan kept his eyes on the man. How could he live with himself after going home and finding out the truth?

  “I can’t tell you how it made me feel, once I knew what happened to them.”

  “And when was this?” Ethan had to know. How long had he carried the burden of the truth within himself?

  His father shook his head and began to cough. And cough. Finally Ethan pulled the handkerchief from his father’s breast pocket and handed it to him. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  Stepping out into the hallway, he spotted a pitcher and cup on a table. He poured cool water in the mug and brought it to his father. He sat on the bed and waited for the man to recover. Finally, he took the cup from a shaky hand and put it on the small table.

  J. T. wiped his mouth with his handkerchief and sighed. “As you can see, I haven’t long in this world.” He lifted his eyes to his son’s. “That’s why I had to find you. See if you could forgive me.”

  Ethan stared. His throat closed and he struggled to breathe. What did his father expect? “I. . . I-”

  “It’s alright, boy. I know this is hard for you. I’ve known the truth about your mother and brother for almost a year. At first, I couldn’t even stand to think about it, knowing how much of it was due to my influence. And then, I had a long talk with a young preacher man.”

  So the old man had religion? Sure. An easy way out for his past wrongs that he had done to others. And he was going to sit there and wait for Ethan to throw his arms around his neck, tell him how much he loved him, how he forgave him. Well, he wouldn’t do it. Not now, not ever.

  J. T. reached for the cup and Ethan handed it to him. He took a sip and cleared his throat. “I don’t expect you to overlook the past, Ethan. But I do want to ask for your forgiveness.”

  “Why? Why now? Is it because you’re going to die?” It sounded harsh, out in the open air, but he had to know what his father’s motives were.

  The older man nodded. “That’s part of it, I’m sure. But it’s more because I need you to know how sorry I am. I was wallowing in self-pity and pride, back then. Your mother did her best to steer me in the right direction. Begged me to come to church with her. But you know how stubborn I was.”

  Ethan nodded. That was putting it mildly. The old man was always a hard one to live with, even before he started drinking. Everything always had to be his way, right or wrong. How many times had he and Gilbert cowered under this man’s gaze? Watched him lash out at their mother or themselves? Ethan shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking of those things right now.

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say.” There was no other way to state what he was feeling. The words ‘I forgive you’ just weren’t ready to pass his lips.

  His father leaned back in his chair and stared into the empty space of the darkening room. “I guess I don’t know what I want you to say. I’m just asking that you get to know me as who I am now, not how I was then. Is that asking too much?”

  Ethan considered. “I guess it might be worth a try. I’ll listen to what you have to say. I can’t promise you anything, though.”

  His father nodded. “I understand. I’m going to be staying here for some weeks. Or as long as God grants to me. Maybe that will give us the time we need.”

  “I suppose I ought to give it a try.” His eyes went to the window. “Looks like I’d better be getting back to the ranch. And you need to get some rest. I‘ll see you in a day or two.”

  Ethan nodded to the old fellows on the porch and hurried down the stairs. He untied the horse from the hitching post and was on his way out of town in a moment. He didn’t much like riding in the night. It could be dangerous for a horse, not being able to see the rocks and holes. But tonight the moon was out early, casting a brightness to the land.

  “Let’s take it slow, boy. No need to rush home. We’ve got lots to talk about.” Poor Danby. He heard all sorts of one-sided conversations, but he was a good listener and never argued.

  Chapter 32

  The old porch boards creaked as Hallie leaned the rocker back and stared up at the moon. Her finger caught the tear that escaped from her eyes and brushed it from her face. She buried her nose in her handkerchief and blew. All the crying had done nothing but make her feel worse. She blinked hard and sighed. There was no use wailing. The mistake was all her own. I guess I really put the wagon before the horse, this time, Lord. It’s pretty plain that Charles Westbury is not the man you have in mind for me. If there is anyone. I know I’m better off alone than with someone I’m not meant to be with. Forgive me for trying to make up my future on my own. Whatever it is, I know Your plan is better.

  She was always taking matters into her own hands, when they were better left to the Lord. Maybe someday she would learn. Her eyes wandered to the row of butchered roses, bright in the moonlight.

  She would have to do something about that disaster, soon. At least wild roses were tough enough to stand up to whatever mistakes she might make with them. If only for her mother’s memory, she would do her best to take better care of them.

  The clock in the front roo
m chimed eight. Ethan would be home by now. Was he sitting up on his porch, looking at the sky? If so, he was probably reviewing how foolish she had been in her letter writing. At least he hadn’t laughed at her when he discovered the truth about Charles Westbury. No ‘I told you so’ or any other sort of reprimand. It was surprising, really, in his dedicated role as her older brother.

  After all the excitement was past, she would tell him how much she appreciated his kind attitude toward the entire incident. Not that he didn’t owe her after the fiasco with Dr. Meadows. A small laugh erupted from throat as she remembered Ethan’s face when he realized his blunder. And poor Dr. Matthews. She was certain that whenever he saw her coming, he had crossed to the other side of the street those weeks following the picnic. Not that it mattered. He had rushed back to St. Louis early this month, when news came that his fiancé was ill. Whether or not he would return to Chance was still a mystery.

  Maybe tomorrow Mr. Westbury would be on the stage on his way out of town. Then, the humiliating gossip about her disaster would soon die away. There were a lot of new people moving in to the area. Surely there would be plenty to talk about and folks would forget about her own wrong step.

  She yawned and stretched in the chair. It was time she was off to bed. Tomorrow was another day. A day for better things to happen. The best being Mr. Westbury leaving town. No. The best would be if Ethan told her he loved her. But that was only a school-girl wish. Someday, God would send the right man for her and she would forget about Ethan Kane.

  Chapter 33

  “It’s been three days, Satin. I’m sure that awful man is gone by now. And I need the room in my kitchen. All of those eggs are taking over,” she spoke to absently to the horse. If he was still in town, maybe he was in the saloon and there would be no chance of running into him. Ethan had promised to stop by and tell her when her mail-order husband was gone, but she hadn’t seen him the last few days. He was probably busy with projects at his ranch. With only one hand to help him, he did most of the work around his place.

  Hallie laughed as Satin snorted and shook her head. The horse might not understand about Mr. Westbury, or the eggs, but she was always willing to pull the little wagon to town.

  “Whoa, there girl,” Hallie pulled the horse to a stop, just up from the Stoner’s. There were quite a few apples rolling around on the street and two young boys, one carrying a bushel basket, were busy rescuing the wayward fruit.

  “What happened here?” She asked the child with the basket, as she jumped down from the wagon.

  “It was a big crash,” he grinned. “Mr. Henley’s wagon side-swiped Mr. Morton’s and the one with the apples turned over!”

  She smiled at the excitement flashing in his dark eyes. What seemed like fun to him had probably been a disaster for poor Mr. Morton. But it looked as if they were retrieving most of the produce.

  Inside the store, there was a circle of townsmen, all talking about the wagon wreck. “Never seen anything like it,” a tall man said, as he picked up a shovel from the rack on the wall. “Just glad no one was hurt.” Several others nodded in agreement, but went on to re-tell what they saw of the accident.

  Hallie nodded a hello to several as she made her way to the back. It might be only late September, but it was time she picked out the material she wanted for a new skirt. She had a good white shirtwaist that would look fine with it when she wore it to the winter dance.

  She sighed. Only two bolts of red. A calico and a wool. She fingered the heavier fabric. Wool would certainly be warmer, and it would do her for all winter. There was a black bolt of the same. Maybe two skirts were in order. Both would be serviceable and go with anything she wore with them.

  “These two?” Rosie, the clerk, smiled as she took them from her.

  ***

  Hallie stood behind an elderly gentleman, as he paid for his purchase of crackers and cheese. “I’ll have a sack of those cough drops, too,” he told Wally.

  Wally fetched a packet and put it beside the man’s other items. “Anything else, Mr. Kane?”

  Hallie dropped her thoughts of afternoon chores. Kane? Was it possible this man might be related to Ethan? She had never seen him around town before.

  Counting out his change and handing it to Wally, the man picked up his cotton bag and slowly made his way to the door. Hallie watched as he took slow, careful steps. At the door way, he picked up an old cane that was leaning against a barrel of crackers, shifting his purchases to the other hand.

  “Anything else, Miss Bolton?”

  Hallie turned to Wally and offered a smile. “No sir. I believe that will be all today.” She took the change from him and glanced at the doorway. “Is that gentleman new in town? I don’t believe I’ve seen him before.”

  Wally nodded. “I think he’s Ethan Kane’s father. Came in on the stage a day or two ago. Staying down at Miller’s Boarding House.”

  ***

  Outside, the elderly man was taking small steps in the direction of Miller’s. Hallie hurried to catch up with him. “Mr. Kane?”

  He stopped and turned, his eyes studying her. “Do I know you, young woman?”

  Hallie felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “No, sir. My name is Hallie Bolton. I understand that you are Ethan Kane’s father. Is that correct?” Surely if it was true, Ethan would be here assisting the man. And the more she observed him, the less she was sure that this man could be Ethan’s father. Unlike Ethan, he was small and thin, stooped from age. But even in his younger years, standing straight, his height would not have been near Ethan’s. Only his blue eyes gave a hint that the two of them might be related.

  “That’s correct, miss. Can I assume that you are an acquaintance of my son?”

  “He’s my neighbor,” she said reaching for the man’s bag, as he began to totter. “Please, let me carry this for you.”

  He seemed reluctant to surrender the small burden, but she was insistent. “I’ll be glad to walk with you to your boarding house, so we can chat. Are you staying at the Miller’s place?”

  He nodded. “But I don’t want to burden you, miss. It’s just a bit of food for my evening meal. Mr. Miller gives us a fine dinner at noon.”

  Hallie had heard about Mrs. Miller’s cooking. And tasted one of the cream cakes she brought to the summer dance. Eating from her kitchen everyday must be a treat for her boarders.

  “I didn’t realize that you were in town. Ethan didn’t mention that you were coming.”

  “Three days ago. The stage got in later than normal, I believe. We had a wheel break on the way and it took them several hours to repair it.”

  Three days ago. Had Ethan known when he was at her house early that evening? Not a word of it had come from his mouth. “I see. And Ethan has been in to see you every day?”

  Mr. Kane laughed, then stopped when a coughing spell took hold of him. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth. “Just the one evening, so far,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “I’m sure my son is a busy man.”

  Hallie sighed. “Of course. I’m sure he will be back in to see you soon.” Especially if she had anything to say on the matter. She stopped as they approached the front steps that led to the porch of the boarding house.

  Mr. Kane grabbed on to the railing and stopped, his eyes on the porch. “Seems like a long climb,” he laughed to her, as he tried to take a deep breath.

  Hallie nodded. This man was not in good health. Hadn’t Ethan noticed that on the evening that he saw his father?”

  “How about you come up on the porch with me? We can sit and chat for a spell, until the dinner is ready.”

  “That sounds good to me,” Hallie smiled. Maybe, if she could talk with the man, she would understand the relationship between the two men. Ethan had never mentioned to her that his father was living. She had assumed that he had passed on years ago.

  Hallie helped him settle in a large rocker and took the quilt hanging over the back and adjusted it over his lap. “There now, the breeze
won’t be too cool on you.” Despite the sunny day, Mr. Kane seemed a bit chilled. “If you would rather, we could go inside,” she suggested. It wouldn’t do for him to get sick from sitting on the porch talking to her.

  He waved away her suggestion. “No, no, this is fine, Miss Bolton.”

  “Hallie. Please call me Hallie,” she said.

  “And just how do you know my son? Oh, yes, you said you are his neighbor, didn’t you?”

  Hallie nodded and took a seat on one of the built-in benches. “That’s right. He lives on the hill behind my place. I can see the light from his cabin at night.”

  Mr. Kane leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a second. But he wasn’t asleep. “And do you see him often, visit with him?”

  Hallie thought about the question for a moment. Then settled on an answer that wouldn’t betray Ethan’s arrangement for reading lessons. “He has done some work for me on my ranch this summer. Things I’m not able to do myself.”

  “So, you’re not married?”

  Hallie hid a smile. Normally, it would be a rude question to ask, but this man, eyes still closed, seemed willing to break etiquette for the moment. “No, sir, I am not.”

  Ethan’s father opened his eyes. “Hard work, ranching. I’d hoped my boys would choose something different. Maybe something academic.”

  Boys? “I didn’t realize that you had other children.” In fact, she had never considered that Ethan might have siblings. It began to dawn on her how little she really knew about the man her heart insisted that she loved.

  “Just one other. Gilbert. Two years younger than Ethan. Small boy. Took after me. He passed on several years ago,” he added, a slight sadness to his voice.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about him.”