Hannah: Mail Order Brides Of Wichita Falls Book #5

by Cyndi Raye

  Table of Contents

  Hannah: Mail Order Brides of Wichita Falls Book 5

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Cyndi Rayes Books

  Hannah: Mail Order Brides

  of

  Wichita Falls

  by

  Cyndi Raye

  Copyright © 2016 www.CyndiRaye.com All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

  Dedicated to all of my historical romance readers who love a great western mail order bride story with a happy ending.

  Chapter 1

  Max pushed at the solid, heavy front door. A pitter-patter of feet scuttled across the marble foyer then skidded to a stop. He blinked a few times before his booted heel took a step inside, noticing the gaudy furniture that stuck out like a bad mistake. A Grandfather clock ticked away in the background, the noise wearing on his tired bones.

  “Welcome, Mr. Ward,” the apron-wearing, petite young woman squeaked, as if afraid to speak up. She wiped her hands across the white material before clasping both hands tight in front of her.

  “Relax. I’m not going to bite.” Max entered the parlor. “How can anyone live in this?”

  A tiny cough behind him gave him the answer he needed. No one would admit his father had been a money-grubbing evil sonofagun living in the lap of luxury who destroyed or tried to ruin those who got in his way.

  “Sir, would you care for coffee, tea or something stronger?” her little voice squeaked.

  Max flung his hat across the room where it landed on a settee with cushions that looked as if the upholstery was hand sewn from another century. The wood carvings on the frame stood out like a sore thumb. “Coffee, please. I have a feeling this will be a long night.”

  “As you wish, sir.” The maid disappeared so fast Max wondered at first if he was imagining her being there. He looked back to where she had stood and shook his head. It had been a long and dreaded trip, knowing what he had to do.

  Max should turn around and walk away right now. He didn’t have to do this, it was a request from his aunt. More than a request, she practically got on her knees and begged him to make things right. Aunt Beth had been good to him, unlike his father, who never spared a moment of his time to pay any attention to Max, shipping him off to his aunts every chance he got.

  He didn’t want the tons of money from his father’s estate. Max didn’t need the ranch. He had a darn nice place in Arizona Territory where he lived with aunt Beth. She would never want for anything since he paid her bills. Max had worked for the railroad and invested in stocks and bonds, so he didn’t have to worry too much about money. His aunt had been a famous singer at one time but all her money was gone. He had made sure his dear aunt was taken care of.

  The maid returned with a shiny, fancy silver tray. A porcelain cup sat upon it. He stared.

  “Sir?” Her hands began to shake. He took the tray from her, plopping it down on an Italian baroque console table with intricate designs on all four legs. The contents spilled over the edge.

  The maid’s eyes widened at his simple carelessness then jumped when he spoke.

  “What do I call you?”

  “M-Mary.”

  Max stirred some cream in the hot liquid and lifted the cup to his mouth. He watched Mary as she stood alone in the parlor, her hands crushed together in fear. It was his father’s doing, he assumed, had always scared the daylights out of everyone in his wake. “Mary, I’m not my father. I’m here to decide what to do with all of this.” A hand flew in the air, gesturing to the room. The long windows were covered by dark, heavy drapes.

  “Yes, sir,” she squeaked, again.

  He was frustrated and disappointed. Everyone he met so far acted skittish around him. From the moment he left the train station to pick up his father’s buggy in the livery, people stared and crossed the street as if he would hurt them. Taking another sip, Max put the cup down and paced the room, noticing the gaudy furniture, expensive paintings covering the walls, oriental rugs under his feet. “Will you please open these drapes?”

  Mary scattered to do his bidding, pulling the expensive drapes back. Sunshine filtered through the huge windows.

  “Much better. Thank you, Mary.” She seemed surprised he thanked her. Max ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his jaw. It was not only going to be a huge task to get rid of all of his father’s belongings but he realized this frightened woman was a reminder his father had been cruel to everyone. What had he done to her to make her so timid?

  She stood at the door, waiting.

  “Mary, may I ask you a question?”

  She nodded, her jaw clenched together, anxiety covering her face.

  “What will happen to you when I sell off these things? Will you be able to find work somewhere else?” The question was valid. He knew his father had many employees for his large estate. The ranch was huge, with a cattle ranch and working cowboys to run the whole set up. It had been basically running on its own without his father to guide things here for months.

  “Perhaps the new owner will keep my grandmother and me,” she whispered, her voice weak.

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  When she stayed glued to the floor, eyes downcast, he walked out of the room, amazed at the size of the place. He walked through the next room, a library filled with thousands of books lining a wall with a ladder to get to the top shelves.

  Two other parlors were filled with more antiquated furniture, oversized paintings and objects of art. Max had no clue what to make of it all.

  A bustling came up behind him as he swung around thinking someone was about to attack.

  “My! My! My! If it ain’t little Maximilian Ward! Come here, suga!”

  Max smiled for the first time since embarking on this trip. He held out his arms wide. The old woman wrapped her arms around him and squeezed so tight he finally pulled them away. “Marni, is it really you? I thought for sure you’d be long gone by now!”

  “No, child. I have nowhere else to go. Mr. Ward was an old geezer but he did pay me enough to get by on even if he scrimped on everyone else.”

  “It was because you took such good care of him, stood up to him, too. I remember the time I snuck out of the house to save that little duckling down by the pond. You came to my rescue and stood face to face with him so he didn’t lay a hand on me.”

  She patted him on the cheek, then pulled on his skin like he was still seven. He covered her hand in his, surprised at the fragility of her aging fingers. “Well, perhaps I stayed because I knew you’d be back someday. Now I have another chance to take care of you. You’ve grown in to a fine man, Max.”

  Max noticed the dulling of her skin, the black hair peppered with white. She still wore it the same, pulled back in a tight bun, away from her face. The girl, who had brought him coffee now stood beside Marni. She wore her hair the same way. She even resembled Marni in a way. “Is Mary related to you, Marni?”

  Marni pulled the younger girl closer. “Mary is Lizzie’s daughter, my dearest and only grand daughter.”

  He nodded at Mary, noticing she had relaxed a bit since they first met. He spoke directly to her. “I’ve known your grandmother since I was born. She took good care of us all when my mother died.” Max r
ealized she had been more of a mother than his own, who disappeared from the ranch when he was two years old. He vaguely remembered how he’d cry and ask for his mother but Byron scolded and yelled at him to never mention her name again. Marni would gather him in her lap and comfort him in the kitchen where his father never stepped foot.

  “She still takes care of everyone,” Mary told him, her voice coming out stronger now.

  “I’m sure she does. Listen, Marni. I’m here to take care of his belongings, this place. I don’t know yet what to do with it all. Most likely it will be sold.”

  He watched how she slowly closed her eyes. Max remembered how she’d do that when he was little. When she had opened them, he often asked her what she was doing. “Praying to the good Lord above,” she’d say. “Put it in his hands since mine are too full.”

  This job was starting to get tougher and tougher. If he thought he’d come here and dispose of everything, he forgot there were people involved. Those who depended on the wages, who needed jobs. If he took it away from these people, where would they go, what would they do? Max figured Marni was getting to old to start over. He let out a deep sigh. His observations were making it harder to just throw it all away like he had originally planned.

  The man left one heck of a mess behind.

  “No sense in worrying about it now, son. Let’s get you settled in and something to eat. Bet you haven’t eaten in hours.”

  Max grinned. “You know me the best, Marni. I’m starved.”

  “Well, then, go on. Let Mary show you to the master suite and I’ll call you when supper is ready.”

  Max stopped at the foot of the stairs. “I’m not sleeping in the same room he did.”

  “I know, son. There are three other suites. Yours is on the opposite side of the house.” Max nodded and followed Mary up to his suite. The room was too large for one person. A four poster bed with netting sat dead center in the middle of the room, along with more oversized furniture against each wall. A large chair with puffy cushions beckoned him.

  He turned to thank Mary but she was long gone. The girl was skittish. He wondered where Lizzie, her mother was. Lizzie had been a few years older than him. He remembered playing with her when he was at the ranch, until his father sent him away to his aunt’s house. As he sat back against the thick cushions, it didn’t take long to find slumber.

  A sharp knock woke Max. He came off the chair as if an intruder were breaking in the room. Swinging open the bedroom door, he found Mary, her hands twisted together, biting her bottom lip. “Supper is on the table, Mr. Ward.”

  “Call me Max, please.”

  “I would rather not.”

  “Whatever you want.” After clearing his head, Max splashed water on his face from the basin on the dresser and went down to find the dining room. All he had to do was follow the delicious smell in the air. Pulling back the high back hand-tooled leather chair with garland and ribbon carvings, he sat down alone at the solid walnut dining table.

  Marni brought a steaming plate piled high with fresh vegetables, mash potatoes smothered in gravy and a chunk of meat that made Max’s mouth water. “I’m not eating alone,” he told her. “Go get your plates and join me.”

  “I was hoping you’d say so,” she told him, disappearing through a solid oak door. Minutes later, she was back, carting her own plate along with Mary. They sat opposite Max at the long trestle table.

  As they ate together and talked some, Max realized Marni’s daughter never appeared. “Where’s Lizzie?”

  Marni sat her fork down. Her eyes slowly roamed around the room, avoiding his gaze. “Mary, go get us some more coffee.”

  The young girl did as she was told. The moment she exited the room, Marni leaned in, talking softly. “She’s gone, Max. Dead. No thanks to Byron. He abused her terribly. I can’t speak of it in front of Mary. She witnessed the whole thing.”

  “He killed her?”

  “May as well have. She took her own life. Walked out in the fields and let a bullet rip through her gut. Mary found her if your wondering why she is so nervous, it’s the cause. She’s never been the same since.”

  “I’m sorry, Marni.” His hand reached out across the table, taking her hand to try to sooth a mother’s loss.

  “I planned to kill him, you know. Even if it isn’t right. I know the good Lord didn’t want me to entertain thoughts like that but he took her and abused her and when she told him she was in love with him, he cackled and heehawed and made fun of her, telling her she was nothing but his whore. Called her names I can’t mention. Threatened her life. Instead, she took her own. Lizzie thought she was in love with him.”

  Max watched the old woman struggle with herself. “If it’s any consolation, I would kill him if he weren’t already dead for what he did to you and your family, Marni. I have to make up for this.”

  She shook her head, patted his hand and picked up the fork. “No sense to distraught yourself. What’s done is done. I’m glad you’re back, son. Even if you sell everything off, I’m glad you got a chance to come home. It’s so good to see you again.”

  Home. This place was never home to Max. It was an ugly place where his mother disappeared one rainy night, never to be heard from again. Byron claimed she ran off, but now, Max doubted his words. It was a place he came to for brief interludes and was taken from again and again, to be pushed off to someone else. He had wanted his father’s love all those years ago, up until he was a teen. Then he made the decision never to come back.

  It had worked good until the old man had to go and die. It wasn’t even a natural death. Texas Rangers shot him dead in the middle of a restaurant in town because he was running a rustling cattle operation and hurting people. Max also heard he was threatening a woman from town, too. The fear the old man instilled wouldn’t be forgotten by the townsfolk too easily.

  He would go in to town this evening to see just what Byron Ward left behind in his wake.

  <><>

  Max stayed at the hotel in Wichita Falls, enjoying a hot shower along with a decent meal at Jenna’s, the eatery where his father was brought to justice. Staying at the hotel overnight would give him an idea of exactly what kind of man his father had become in his last moments.

  “Nice to meet a new face,” Jenna told him. She was smiling until he introduced himself.

  “Nice to meet you as well.”

  “Do you have a name, sir?” She placed a menu on the table in front of him.

  “Max Ward.”

  Jenna stilled. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

  “I’m not my father. Just so you know.”

  “I run a decent place here. You may want to not mention that name during supper hour. Most folk here have a bad taste in their mouth for Byron Ward, dead or not.”

  “I’m going to sell off his stuff. The ranch. Get rid of it all, wipe the man’s name off the face of the earth. It’s the least I can do.” Max watched her closely, he didn’t want to be the cause of a scene here in town. It was a nice town. He didn’t remember much of it, seems there wasn’t much here when he was so small. The ranch was all he had remembered.

  She placed a hand on her hip. “Sell it all? What are those workers going to do? The ranch employs a lot of our townsfolk. Why, just the other day I heard from one of my patrons that since Byron was killed, the ranch was a better place to work. Why can’t you let it be?”

  “I never pictured myself living here, ranching on Texas land. I’ll take the meatloaf.”

  She scribbled on her pad and placed the pencil behind her ear. Leaning forward, she said softly, “Mr. Ward, if you want to make friends here, I would suggest you turn around what your father has done. There are too many people depending on work from that ranch. It’s the largest working ranch in the area. If you sell, there will be many families who will struggle.”

  Max drummed his fingers against the linen covered table. She was right. He was starting to see a whole new picture. If he sold off the ranch, it would most lik
ely be bought by a big city corporation who didn’t care about the families in Wichita Falls. He knew business and all these townsfolk would suffer greatly when they sent in Chinese workers who did the job for little to nothing. Same thing happened with the rail road.

  Jenna brought his dinner plate, setting it down on the table. “Well, you had plenty of time to think, Mr. Ward. What’s it gonna be?”

  Before he could answer, a couple sat next to his table. The woman spoke up. “Ward! Oh heavens, did I hear you say this man is a Ward?”

  Max looked over to see the middle aged couple staring at him like he had leprosy. The fear in their eyes was real. He wanted to reassure them but couldn’t deny who he was. “I’m Max Ward.”

  She looked at Jenna in horror. “Is this true?”

  Jenna nodded. “It’s his son.”

  “I’m right here, listening to you both.”

  “Well, sir. I’m sorry to be rude but we’ll take our leave and eat somewhere else.” The couple got up and quickly walked to the other side of the room, taking a seat at a table in the front. He watched in dismay as they nudged the next table and poked a finger his way.

  “What will they do, tell the whole darn town?” he grumbled, sticking a fork in the soft meat.

  Jenna laughed. “In less than thirty minutes this whole town will know you are his son. Sometimes it is good everyone is loyal to Wichita Falls, but not so lucky for you. I’m afraid you will be shunned until you show them you are not like your father.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “How am I supposed to know? The first thing you can do is stop trying to sell off the ranch. Show the workers you will stand by them. Then go get yourself a wife and become a decent citizen of Wichita Falls.”

  Max wasn’t afraid of a challenge. As he ate his dinner, the thought of turning around the wrong his father imposed on this town sounded more and more like something he desired to do. It was time he showed this small town he wasn’t like his father. The feeling in his gut when the couple looked at him grated on his nerves. They didn’t know him and yet they were first to judge a man. It wasn’t right.