Groom For Hire (Pioneer Series #3)

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “Why?”

  “Because the woman I wanted to marry ended up marrying someone else during that time. If I hadn’t worked on that railroad, I would have been able to marry her.”

  “Maybe you were supposed to work on the railroad so you didn’t get to marry her.”

  He shot her a startled look as if he’d never considered that possibility.

  “If you logically examine the situation,” she continued, “then it might have worked out for the best. Besides, if it was meant to be, she would have waited for you, wouldn’t she?”

  “No. Something happened to her that forced her to marry as soon as possible. That’s why I shouldn’t have gone against my instinct. If I hadn’t, I would be her husband right now.”

  So that was why he didn’t share her feelings. He was pining over a lost love. His heart was already spoken for. “Well, be that as it may, there’s no changing it. You can’t go back and change anything. All you can do is move forward.”

  There were plenty of times she missed her mother, but no amount of wishing would bring her mother back. She just had to accept things the way they were.

  “If you keep dwelling on the past, you’ll never be happy,” she added.

  Then, turning her attention back to the target in front of her, she made another attempt to shoot it. This time, she heard a clang as the bullet hit the tray, which, in turn, fell to the ground.

  She did it! She jumped up and ran over to the tray. Joe had hit the center of the tray, so that wasn’t her shot. She searched it and found a hole toward the upper right corner. It wasn’t dead center, but it was good enough.

  She set the tray back against the tree and returned to the spot she’d been at.

  “You’re not going to shoot again, are you?” Joe asked.

  “I sure am,” she replied. “Now that I know what I’m doing, I need to do it a few more times so I don’t forget.”

  He shook his head. “I never thought a woman could be so stubborn.”

  “I’m not being stubborn. I’m being diligent.” She settled onto her stomach. “I didn’t learn to play a song on the piano by practicing it only once. I had to do it over and over before I got good at it.”

  He could say what he wanted about her in other areas of her life, but one thing he couldn’t say was that she was bad at the piano. She excelled at it, and she excelled because she had applied herself to the point where she could do it without even thinking about it. It had become automatic. That was how she needed to be with shooting a gun. It had to be something as natural to her as playing the piano. Only then, would she be content.

  He groaned and turned onto his back so he was looking up at the clouds. “You can practice for a while longer, but when that sun sets, we’re quitting.”

  “That will be fine. I’ll do this tomorrow evening after we eat.”

  He glanced her way, but she pretended not to notice his frustration. Instead, she pulled the trigger and was rewarded when she hit her target. She jumped up and set the tray back in place then returned to him.

  “We’re not going to be doing this every day for the rest of the trip,” Joe told her.

  “We don’t have to do it tomorrow, if you don’t want to,” she replied. “Now that I know how to do this, I don’t need your help.”

  “You can’t be this far from the camp without someone to keep you safe.”

  “Why not? I can shoot a gun. I can defend myself if someone tries to threaten me.”

  Fortune, however, was not on her side in this case since she missed the next shot.

  As she feared, he took note of this and smirked. “You’re not that good yet.”

  “I will be,” she replied. “You just wait. Before long, I’ll be as good as you.”

  He snorted. “That’ll be the day.”

  “I will do it, Joe, and when I do, I expect you to admit it.

  Not that she really expected him to admit it. He was far more stubborn than she ever was. But she was going to show him. She was going to prove that she could shoot a gun just as well as any man could.

  Steeling her resolve, she pulled the trigger again, and this time, she hit the tray.

  * * *

  Two nights later, Joe was drinking a cup of coffee by the fire when Stuart came over to help with the lookout. After a greeting, Stuart set his bedroll near the fire and settled into it.

  Joe thought that was going to be all the two would say to each other until Stuart said, “I don’t want to bring this up, but Alice has been at me to do it.”

  “If you don’t want to bring it up, then have Alice tell me her complaints,” Joe replied. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Well, see, that’s the thing,” Stuart said. “It’s about you.”

  “If it’s about me, then she should definitely come to me.”

  Stuart shifted in his bedroll and let out a long sigh. “I know she should, but she refuses to. She said since I’m the man, it’s my duty to go to you. You know, because being a man means I’m the leader of the family.”

  And Alice had enough power where she could dictate what Stuart did. There was no mistaking who was the real leader in that family. Joe opted to keep the observation to himself. Considering the fact that Joe would be rid of Alice soon enough while Stuart was stuck with her forever, Joe decided to offer Stuart some grace.

  “Alright, Stuart. What’s bothering her?” Joe asked.

  “She wants to know how much longer you’re going to be teaching Michelle how to use a gun,” Stuart replied after a long moment of silence passed between them.

  “What business is it of hers what I do with my wife?” Joe asked.

  “Well, none, I suppose. But she worries it might give other women the idea that they can shoot guns, too.”

  “None of them have expressed an interest in shooting guns. I’ve never had a woman want to do it on any of the other trails I’ve been on. Michelle is not like other women.” As soon as he said the words, he realized they were true. Funny how he hadn’t given that a lot of thought up until now.

  “If other women haven’t wanted to shoot a gun until now, then maybe it’s because they didn’t know they could do it.”

  Joe bit back his irritation as he finished his coffee. “What’s the worst that will happen if other women start shooting a gun? We’ll have more people to help hunt for food. That’s all. I don’t think women want to deal with that when they know they have to turn around and cook it, too. They’re busy enough as it is.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s true.”

  “Of course, it’s true. Michelle has no children to take care of, and Henrietta and her mother do the cooking. Michelle has nothing to do. She’s bored, that’s all.”

  The more Joe thought about it, the more it made sense. There was no piano for her to play, no studies to tend to, no dinner parties to host, and no social diversions to occupy her time. She was only married on paper.

  Really, she was a single young lady who needed something to help pass the time. Hadn’t she bugged him enough about there not being enough to do? It was why she wanted to help with the lookout and why she wanted to hunt. She didn’t necessarily enjoy the activities. She was bored. Maybe if he started giving her things to do, she’d realize it wasn’t for her and she’d leave him alone.

  “Stuart,” he said as he looked over at the man, “as far as I’m concerned, Michelle has every right to do what other men are doing. You tell Alice that, and tell her that if she wants to talk to me about it, she’s free to.”

  And as soon as Michelle realized just how much work he really did, she was bound to go back to doing the kinds of things women should be doing. With a smile, he started planning all the things he’d start making Michelle do.

  Chapter 12

  “Get your things and join me for the lookout,” someone called out from behind Michelle the next evening as she was getting ready for bed.

  She glanced up from the bedroll she’d just placed on the ground and saw Joe heading over to
her. Straightening up, she asked, “What?”

  She couldn’t have heard him right. Up to now, he’d argued with her every single step of the way whenever it came to doing something he deemed “a man’s task”. And now he was asking her to do something only other men were supposed to help him with?

  “I said you’re keeping lookout with me tonight,” Joe said.

  “But I thought it was my turn,” Danny replied as he came up to them. “I already gathered my things.”

  “I thought it over and decided you’d be better off staying here with your mother and sister,” Joe told him.

  “Why?” Danny asked.

  “Because…” Joe gestured to Mrs. Taylor and Henrietta. “They’re your family. Protect them.”

  “Don’t I already do that when I help you with the lookout?” Danny pressed.

  Michelle noted the slight twitch in Joe’s left eye, an indication that Danny was bothering him.

  “I don’t mind keeping lookout,” she told Danny. “In fact, I’ve been asking to do it.” With a glance at Joe, she added, “I must not have done so badly when I did it before.”

  “Are you looking for a compliment?” Joe asked, turning his gaze to her.

  “Yes,” she replied. It wouldn’t hurt him to admit when she did something right.

  “You’re not going to get it,” Joe said. “I’m ordering you to help with the lookout, just like I order it from the men. If you want to be treated like a man, I’ll oblige you.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “Are you doing this out of spite?”

  “No,” he replied. “I’m giving you a chance to prove you can handle doing the same tasks that a man can. But, if you don’t think you can—”

  “I can,” she inserted. “Keeping lookout is easy. Anyone can do it.”

  “Then what’s taking you so long to gather your things?”

  He made a good point. If she was serious about helping around the camp, she needed to prove it.

  As she rolled up her bedroll, Danny told her, “You don’t have to do this. It’s been a long day. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

  “No, Danny. Joe’s right. I’ve been asking for a chance to prove I can do the same things a man can.” She picked the bedroll up and faced Joe. “I’m ready. Where are you sleeping?”

  Joe pointed to the small fire by his things.

  “Alright,” Danny said, “but if you want me to take over, let me know.”

  “Oh, I won’t need you to take over,” she assured him. “I did this that night a lot of people were sick, and it was easy.”

  She headed off for the spot in excitement. Joe was allowing her to do the things she’d been eager to do for the longest time.

  They reached the area where he’d already set out his things, and she hurried to unroll her bedroll, which was across from him. “Do you want to go to sleep first?” she asked. “Or would you rather stay up?”

  “I’ll sleep first.” He sat on his bedroll. “Do you want coffee?”

  “No. I’m too excited to sleep.”

  His eyebrows raised in interest. “Excited?”

  “Yes. You’re finally letting me help out around here. I like the fact that you’re taking me seriously.”

  He rolled his eyes and settled into his bedroll. “You have a funny way of thinking.” He placed his hat over his eyes and clasped his hands over his chest. “None of the other men are happy when they have to do the lookout.”

  “Maybe they don’t see it as an adventure.”

  He snorted. “An adventure?”

  “Sure. Anything can happen.”

  “I hate to disappoint you, but this trail is about as adventurous as watching a snail crawl across the ground.”

  “You don’t think that.”

  “How do you know what I think or don’t think? You can’t read my mind.”

  “If you found this boring, you wouldn’t insist on doing this all the time. I listened as you told my father about all the other times you’ve led a wagon train, and there was a spark of enthusiasm in your speech.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “No, I’m not. It was easy to detect. Your smile got wider. Your pitch rose higher. You spoke faster.”

  He tipped his hat to the side so he could look at her. “The next thing I know, you’ll be saying I was doing flips on the dining room table.”

  She giggled and shook her head. “Don’t be silly, Joe. That’s ridiculous. You aren’t the type who does flips on a dining room table.”

  “I could be.”

  “You aren’t. You don’t have the grace for it.”

  “The what?” He sat up, the hat falling into the grass, and she couldn’t help but think he was even more attractive when he wasn’t wearing the hat.

  “Grace,” she said, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered around in her stomach. “Some men have a natural grace about them. They often become dancers. Why, when I was a little girl, I saw a ballet, and those men seemed to glide effortlessly across the stage.”

  He grimaced. “Ballet?”

  “See? Even the idea doesn’t interest you. You have no real desire to be graceful.” Then as an afterthought, she added, “Which is good because you’re not. When you walk, you seem to storm over to someone. You’re on a mission, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop you.”

  “I’d rather do that than prance around a stage.”

  She gasped. “Those men don’t prance around a stage. Their movements are beautiful. They tell an entire story in the way they dance. Sometimes when I watch the leaves on the tree branches rustling in the wind, I think back to the ballet and imagine those men in my mind as they twirl the ballerinas around.”

  “Just so you know, I hate ballets. That right there is proof as to why it’s best that we go our separate ways once we’re in California. I would rather be on the run from the law for the rest of my life than be confined to watching ballets.” With a shudder, he settled back into the bedroll and put the hat back over his eyes.

  “What if the ballet involved a mock gunfight?”

  “There’s no such thing.”

  No, there wasn’t. But she was tempted to claim otherwise. Instead, she said, “Just because I enjoyed watching ballets, it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy other things. I’m having fun out here, too. It’s nice to be outside. I feel like I’m living life rather than watching or reading about it.”

  “Really?”

  She thought she detected a note of interest in his tone, but when she glanced over at him, she couldn’t read his expression since his hat was covering most of his face. “Yes, really. When I read books or watched a ballet, I was living other people’s adventures. But out here, I’m having one of my own. As a child, I never imagined I’d risk the dangers of the wide-open country or shoot a gun. I thought I was going to spend all of my life in my safe world, playing the piano and hosting dinner parties. This is something new, and I find it very exciting. And more than that, I am taking part in history. People already talk about the brave men and women who make their lives out West. I now get to be a part of that group. There’s something fun in knowing people will be talking about this long after we’re dead.”

  She waited for him to reply, but he didn’t say anything. Sure, she’d rambled for quite a while, but she couldn’t have been talking so long that he’d fallen asleep. No. He was still awake. He was probably pretending to be asleep so she’d stop talking. She was tempted to lift that hat off his head to expose his ploy. After serious debate, though, she opted to let him keep up the pretense.

  She turned her attention to the land around them and let her imagination entertain thoughts of what people might say about wagon trains in the years to come.

  * * *

  The night seemed to go on far longer than what Joe was used to. Michelle had gone to sleep long ago, something that was a feat considering how excited she’d been earlier that evening when he asked her to help with the lookout.

  Joe had managed to drift
off to sleep a couple of times, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t forget what she’d said about this being an adventure. He’d always looked at it that way. It sure beat working in a factory all day, which he would have done if he had married Amanda.

  He glanced over at Michelle, who slept on her back. The resemblance still unnerved him, but the more he got to know her, the less he thought of Amanda when he saw her. It helped that she was nothing like Amanda. The two couldn’t have been more different. Which was good. The last thing he’d wanted when he started this trip was to be reminded of Amanda for the next few months. Amanda had Richard, and that was all he cared to remember.

  Michelle let out a contented sigh and rolled over so that she was facing him. His attention went back to her, and he studied her face in the soft glow of the fire. She really did seem like she was happy out in the wilderness. He tried to remember how she seemed when he’d met her in Omaha in her fancy house wearing her fancy dress. She’d liked playing the piano. That much he recalled.

  But all he’d kept thinking that evening was how difficult it was going to be to get over Amanda if he was marrying a woman who looked just like her. Even if it was temporary, he had considered telling her father he couldn’t go through with the marriage. There was no getting out of it, of course. He’d already signed the contract. He was bound to keep it, regardless of how much he dreaded it.

  Now, as he sat by the fire and sipped his coffee while he peered out at the morning star, he supposed the arrangement wasn’t so bad after all. At least she wasn’t one of those hysterical women who were too afraid to do anything unless a male relative was with them. He’d hate to have to go everywhere with Michelle. It was definitely nice that Michelle didn’t get squeamish at every little bug or harmless snake that crept along the trail.

  Yes, he could have done worse. He was getting paid to take care of a woman who pretty much took care of herself. That wasn’t so bad when he took the time to think about it.

  And she was attractive. But of course, that wasn’t a surprise. She looked a lot like Amanda, and he’d been in love with her. Naturally, he found Michelle pleasing to look at. It would be silly if he didn’t.