The Rancher's Southern Belle

by Leanne Burroughs

  She heaved a sigh and shot a glower at the irksome captain. Then she returned her gaze back to the clergyman. “Go ahead.”

  “Marriage is a solemn estate that should not be entered into inadvisably or lightly.” The clergyman stopped. “Yes, well, er…let me revise that. Your souls are now bound together, forever one,” he intoned.

  She tried and failed to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Get this farce over with.”

  Standing but a hand’s width apart, soon they both repeated the traditional vows. Hers were distasteful in her mouth. No doubt the captain felt the same despite his sudden moment of agreeability.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife.” The minister blessed them, then clearly added as an afterthought, “And may the good Lord have mercy on you both.”

  That was it! Her wedding ceremony. Within mere minutes she was married. To a man she didn’t even know. The ceremony shouldn’t have stung, but it did. She’d waited for and dreamed of this day her entire life.

  And this is what she’d wound up with.

  Heaven help her.

  The captain took a step back. He removed his dark, wide-brimmed hat and swept her a bow.

  He didn’t try to kiss her after the brief ceremony. Good thing too. Whether a traditional part of the ceremony or not, she probably would have punched him in the face if he’d tried.

  She might be married to this lout, but she’d never be happy a day in her life. And she’d make certain his life was miserable too. Just as the Union had done to the Confederacy during the four years of the war—and seemed to be doing in its aftermath.

  What was she going to do now?

  Despite what she hoped was her firm resolve, her shoulders trembled.

  Luke watched his new bride. She was angry as a cat doused with water. Certainly not the look of a woman in love like Sam’s wife had gazed at him yesterday during their moving wedding ceremony. The tiny woman had stood proudly at Sam’s side.

  He glanced around the small church before he started to head out, then stepped to the table in front of the pulpit and drew a single red rose from the vase on the table. He turned back to Madelyn and handed it to her.

  He’d surprised her.

  Before she turned away, he’d seen something besides anger. Her eyes were stark with agony.

  She was hurt, vulnerable. He couldn’t blame her. Her sheltered existence was being ripped away. This certainly hadn’t been a wedding any young woman would have dreamed of. Her father had robbed her of that. As had he by agreeing to go along with the farce.

  He almost regretted agreeing.

  Almost.

  No, he certainly wasn’t going to have a happy life like he hoped Sam would have. He had a feeling this little filly had every intention of making his life a living hell. She sure was dreadful pretty though.

  He didn’t know what made him do it, but reaching up his work-worn hand, he smoothed it over her cheek. The look on her face showed he’d caught her off guard, but she didn’t step away.

  He certainly doubted they’d have a wedding night. Well, at least not one like he’d always envisioned. She’d probably lock him out of the room. No, her lock was broken. He heaved a sigh. He’d have to give her his room. Had to keep her safe. He’d promised that in his vows.

  He’d manage somehow. He’d never forced his attentions on a woman before and he wasn’t about to start now just because he was married to her.

  Married. Ha! That was a joke. They might be hitched legal like, but he doubted very much that it would ever be anything like his parents’ marriage. One full of love.

  She had her back up now. He’d just have to wait and see what played out over time and hope their life didn’t have a whole heap of trouble in it.

  Extending his arm to her, he willed her to take it. “How ‘bout we head back to the hotel? We never did get to eat anythin’ this mornin’.” He hoped she’d come along peaceable like and not kick up a row. The last thing he needed after what they’d gone through this morning was another disturbance.

  When she didn’t move, he added, “You needn’t be afraid, ma’am. Nothin’ or no one will hurt you.”

  Reluctantly placing her gloved hand atop his forearm, she stared up at him. “I assure you, captain, I am not afraid. Certainly not of you.” Bitterness laced her tone.

  He couldn’t stop the smile that curved the corners of his lips. Yep, she was one little wildcat. One he wouldn’t mind taming.

  He did notice she kept the flower he’d given her. He’d caught her actually smelling it a few times when she didn’t think he was watching.

  So, she had a sentimental side.

  They walked slowly back to the hotel, him slowing his stride to match hers, and she groaned when her father entered the saloon. The man had left the church as soon as the wedding ceremony was completed.

  Luke’s heart sank as he watched her pained face. It was too early in the day. Only die-hard gamblers or town drunks, no doubt passed out after the previous night, would be in there now. He could only imagine what she was thinking.

  Who was he to judge? If he’d passed out in a saloon or down in the hotel reception room instead of stumbling up to the wrong room, he wouldn’t be in this predicament. What would his brothers and sister think of him when he told them?

  He steered her across the street and placed a hand at the small of her back as he moved her into the hotel’s lobby.

  The desk clerk glared at him and called out, “I have added the broken door to your bill, sir.”

  Luke started. “What? I didn’t break it.”

  A superior look crossed the clerk’s face. “But you were responsible for it.”

  Luke wasn’t going to cause a scene in the lobby. Madelyn was with him. “Fine. Keep it on my bill. I will pay it when I check out.” Without another word he moved his wife toward the restaurant. Would he ever get used to thinking that?

  Seating her at one of the tables near a window overlooking the main street, the clamor of utensils clattering against plates as people enjoyed their meals were the only sounds to break the silence between them. He tried to ignore people’s stares. Had any of them actually witnessed the debacle upstairs or had they just heard about it from rapidly-spreading gossip?

  Didn’t take long for news like that to travel quickly.

  He motioned for one of the waitresses. “What are your specials today?”

  After they ordered and the waitress departed, he and his wife sat staring at each other, shafts of light from the sun gently wafting over their table. Finally she glanced away and looked out the window.

  “We have to talk, Madelyn. We cannot go on just starin’ at each other—or out windows. I cain’t change the past, but we can do somethin’ about our future.” He cleared his throat. “My name’s Luke. Captain Luke Guylenhall at your service.”

  She faced him. “Yes, I heard you tell the minister.”

  She pulled at the fingers of each white glove and laid them across her lap, then finally spoke. “I do not know what came over Father this morning. He has never behaved such as you saw him today.”

  Bemusement cut through his senses. “I doubt he has ever found his daughter in bed with a man before.” At least I hope the man hasn’t!

  She blushed prettily. Her eyes kept returning to the clasped hands she held rigidly on her lap.

  “No, of course not. Surely that must be it.” She raised her eyes to meet his. “I regret this happened though, sir.”

  He loved listening to her soft Southern drawl. Her voice sounded as smooth as honey. It suited her. Sir came out as suh.

  “If we wait a few days until after Father departs for San Francisco, you can apply for a divorce. It should not take long to rectify this abominable situation.”

  That shocked him. “Why would I do that?”

  His question seemed to surprise her. “Because you did not wish to wed with me, of course.”

  She seemed a sturdy girl, hopefully not one given to vapors like many Easterners were
prone to. Yes, despite the circumstances, surely he’d chosen wisely. He’d not be setting her aside.

  “No. Not any more than you wished to wed with me. But the fact is, we are hitched. You have courage, ma’am. From what I have seen, a great deal of it. I admire that.”

  When she glanced away, he laid his fingers on her cheek and turned her to face him. “Whether or not we were forced into the ceremony, I pledged my words before God. And I do not break my vows to Him...” He let his words trail to silence.

  She nearly choked. “You mean you plan to stay married to me?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  That was the second time that day he’d said those words.

  For some inexplicable reason, he realized he meant them.

  “You do not even know me!” Fear made her voice sharp. Trembling with emotion, she lowered her voice when she realized people were watching them.

  “You are right. But we have a lifetime ahead of us to get to know one another.” He reached out to brush his fingers lightly over her hand.

  A shock of awareness went through her, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Why wouldn’t the stubborn man agree to what was certainly the most sensible course of action? She was learning quickly about him though. He did what he felt was right, not what was easiest or most expedient. In truth, he seemed the most honorable of men. Blue belly or not.

  “Tell me about yourself.” His voice fell in deep, rich tones around her ears.

  She lifted and dropped a shoulder in a sheepish shrug. The last thing she wanted to do was face the memories of the devastation of war. Would it ever cease to hurt to think of all the suffering the South had endured?

  She chose instead to tell him about life before the war. “Not much to tell. I was born and raised in Atlanta. I guess to what you would call a life of privilege. Father was a brilliant physician. Everyone loved him—contrary to what you saw last night and this morning.”

  She drew the tip of her tongue lightly across her lips and saw his eyes follow the motion. “He was mild-mannered, soft-spoken. The exact opposite of what he has become because of the war. He lived and breathed medicine.”

  “So now you have told me about your father. What about you? What does Miss Mad…Mrs. Madelyn Guylenhall like to do?”

  She started at the name. If he really meant to not set her aside, she guessed she’d have to get used to it.

  “She likes to be at her father’s side practicing medicine.” She lowered her eyes and spoke softly as a knot formed in her stomach. “That will never happen again. It is what I hoped we would once again do when we reached San Francisco.”

  She looked up in time to see his eyes widen.

  “You are a healer?”

  “I am not exactly certain what a ‘healer’ is. I am certainly not a physician since not many women are allowed in medical school, but yes, I treated many patients alongside my father. Often if he was not present and someone ill came to our house, I treated them the same way I had seen him do so many times.”

  He didn’t make fun of her like she thought he would. Most men guffawed at the idea of a woman practicing medicine—or at least assisting. Instead he looked pensive.

  “Do you garden…or sew?”

  She chuckled. Couldn’t help herself. “We had an elderly man to do most of the work around our house, but when Father wasn’t around Old Bob tried to teach me the difference between the newly growing plants and the weeds surrounding them. I am not sure he really ever succeeded, but I did try to learn. As to sewing, every proper bred lady learns to turn a needle. But probably not in the sense you mean.”

  He didn’t look pleased with her answer like she thought he would be. Instead, he said, “Old Bob.” His brows furrowed. “Your father owned slaves?”

  Ah, so that was the problem. “No. Old Bob and his wife Aggie were not slaves. They were free blacks. Well, actually they were slaves. Father bought them from one of the nearby plantations and gave them their freedom in return for them working for us. I do not remember a time when they did not live with us—albeit they did not live in our house. They had their own small home out back. They and their children could have left anytime they wanted to, but I am glad they did not. They were part of our family.”

  “What did you do for fun?”

  “My life revolved around society, the parties and balls given by Atlanta’s elite. I spent most days getting ready for and attending the formal dinners, fancy balls, soirees, and assorted musicales.”

  He picked up her hand and turned it over in his, lightly running his fingers over the tips of hers. “Do you know how to cook?”

  She gulped. “I am afraid not. Aggie did all the cooking and cleaning around the house. Although she did let me help in the kitchen sometimes when Father wasn’t around. I fear you have gotten the short end of this bargain, Captain.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “That is about it. My life in a nutshell. Does not sound half as exciting as I thought it was living it.” And other than Aggie and Old Bob, there was no love in the house once Mother died. Madelyn fought the tears that stung the back of her throat.

  Oh, to have had a father that loved her.

  They paused when the waitress brought their food. When she left, Luke reached for Madelyn’s hand and bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord, for the food on this table and the people that labored over it.”

  The man prayed…in public? Where everyone about could see him? Surely he would never cease to amaze her.

  He continued their conversation as he met her eyes, almost as if aware of her thoughts. “You always mention your father. How did your mother feel about all this? How did she feel about owning slaves?”

  She jerked her hand free, then picked up a roll to butter it. “I already told you Old Bob and Aggie were not slaves. Father paid them a small stipend each month.” She stopped and thought. “I am sure it was not much, although I never looked at his ledgers. But they had everything they needed—a home over their heads, food in their bellies.” She looked out the window. “My love.”

  She whipped back to face him. “Does that surprise you, Captain? That I should love a colored person? Well I did. Mother died when I was very young—I barely remember her—and it was Aggie that raised me. I have always thought…”

  When she didn’t continue, Luke prodded, “What? You always thought what?”

  “That Mother had Father buy Old Bob and Aggie because she knew she was going to die soon. I think she wanted the security of knowing someone would be there to take care of me. Father was always too busy with his practice. It was only when I grew older and started hanging around his office all the time that he and I grew somewhat closer. That is when he started teaching me medicine. Let me help with his office records.”

  “So you can read?”

  She sat up straight. “Of course I can! I can read, write and cipher.” She raised her chin. “What about you, Captain? Can you read and write?”

  He didn’t seem offended at her question, but matched her words with a warm smile. “I can, and cipher too.”

  “I do not mean to offend, but how did you learn? I often thought of people west of the Mississippi as a bit…”

  “Backward?”

  A blush covered her cheeks. He’d never point that out to her, though. It would probably embarrass her. But oh, how she looked when she did that—warm, soft, inviting. If she only knew how he felt being around her.

  She was one of the strongest people he’d ever met. She just didn’t know it yet. At first he’d thought she was just a fragile flower that’d need close tending the rest of her life, but he’d discounted that quickly. She had backbone. Determination. Even though with all the changes in her life she had to be feeling intimidated and insecure. He couldn’t wait to watch her blossom into the wife he hoped she’d become.

  She finally answered, “Well, yes. Since you put it that way, I guess that is the word I was looking for.”

  It was all he could do to not reach out and touch
her. Giving up, he reached across to take her hand in his again, ran his thumb lightly over her soft skin.

  “Unlike you”—he brought himself back to the present—“I had a mother who was with me daily. Looked after me. She came from England and was well educated. Far more than my father. Before we had a school in town, she taught me and my sister and brothers how to read and write. As we grew older and the area grew, she made certain we went to the one room schoolhouse in town—even though Pa announced he couldn’t see much sense in such things.

  “In fact, she taught him to read too. He wanted nothin’ to do with it, but when she told him she was only doin’ it so he wouldn’t be swindled in any of his business dealin’s with other men, he reluctantly agreed. She told him one day he’d own the best cattle ranch around and he believed her. Purt near turned out true, too. While not the biggest, our cattle ranch is one of the largest in the area.”

  “Where do your parents live?”

  “Lived. Ma died right before the Southern War of Rebellion broke out.”

  She bristled at his terminology and started to say something, but he stopped her with his fingers on her lips. Feelings about the war were still too raw—for both of them. “Now don’t go gettin’ all riled up, Little Reb. We is married now and it is only normal we are gonna say things about the war. We have to learn to get along and not react to each thing we hear.”

  Not to give in, she said, “I am not little.”

  He broke out in a loud guffaw. “Well, I guess compared to some women you are not, but compared to me you are.” He reached out and took her hand in his again. “Now, back to what you asked me. Ma passed away before the war broke out. As to Pa, I received a letter from my sister, her name is Kat, two weeks ago tellin’ me he passed away recently.”

  He stopped talking. She could almost see him processing the news. Without thinking, she placed her free hand atop his. “I am sorry to hear that. Does your sister live on the ranch?”

  He shook his head. “No. Well, in a way she does. She and her husband have their own spread just a few miles away. The land originally was part of the ranch. Pa gave it to her and Aaron as a weddin’ present.”