The Rancher's Southern Belle

by Leanne Burroughs

  Wide-eyed with curiosity, she peered closely at everything inside the barn. Definitely well-stocked. It seemed to have everything that might be needed to ensure all the animals were tended. The fact her husband cared so much about the maintenance of his animals spoke to her. She’d always loved animals, too. Yes, the ranch had in truth been his father’s, but the captain had spent all his life here. She could feel his presence there even though he was currently miles out on the range.

  Determined to prove her worth, Madelyn tried again and again to milk Old Bossie. It looked so simple when Kat did it, but Madelyn quickly learned that wasn’t a fact. At least not for her. After several false starts, she finally got the hang of milking the cow. She wanted to hoot with glee, but ladies didn’t do that. At least proper Southern ladies didn’t. Who knew what they did out here. Thank goodness Kat didn’t laugh at her, although Madelyn was certain she wanted to. The cool morning air was invigorating as she sat there.

  It was awfully uncomfortable leaning over to milk the cow with the boning of her corset jabbing her painfully in the ribs. How did women do this every day?

  Kat saw her fidgeting. “I don’t mean to offend, but that contraption you wear simply will not do out here.”

  Madelyn frowned at the words. “Excuse me?”

  Kat pointed. “That corset. Do not tell me you are not uncomfortable. While you may choose to wear it when you go to church or to town to shop, wearing it around the ranch to do chores makes no sense. You will be fidgeting and adjusting the confounded thing the entire day. There is a lot of bending while doing chores.”

  “But I have to—”

  “I don’t care what you’ve been taught up to now. It may have been well and good in proper Atlanta society, but a corset has no place on a ranch.”

  Kat rolled her eyes. “And why in the world are you wearing one in the first place? From what I remember while you were sick, your curves are soft and natural without that torture contraption. You are lovely.”

  “But wearing a dress without stays is scandalous!”

  “Nonsense. I am so envious of you. Compared to you, I look like a pine tree—straight up and down.”

  “No! You look—”

  “Skinny. I know. I have heard it all my life. Now no more arguments. As soon as we go back in the house, take off that garment so you can breathe!”

  At the chicken coop, Kat found another problem. It had nothing to do with corsets, but it still had to do with another ‘flaw.’

  “Pa made that roost special for us young’uns. Made it with slots on the sides so the roost could be moved up as we grew.” She covered her mouth with her hand, clearly hiding a smile. “I will talk to Luke about lowering it so you can reach the eggs. Won’t take but a minute or two for him to change everything.”

  “I am sure I can manage the way it is.” She looked around the barn. “Maybe I can find a bucket or something to stand on. Maybe a stool like I sat on to milk Old Bossie.”

  Kat shook her head. “Will not be a problem. He would have to do it anyway once you have kids and they start fetching the eggs. Rebekah’s really good at gathering them at our house already. Although we have certainly had our share of broken eggs I had to use right away.” She looked back at the roost. “He will just have to do it a little sooner than he planned.”

  “I am not that short!”

  “Not a matter of you being short or not. The rest of us are tall.” Kat tried her best to smother a smile.

  Madelyn couldn’t argue with that. Kat stood almost as tall as the captain, and after seeing Matthew in town the other day, he was even taller.

  The captain and Johnny wandered into the house as the comforting smell of bacon frying filled the room and wafted out the open door. “This young whipper-snapper was a big help.”

  “I am hungry,” Johnny complained. “My belly’s about to rub against my backbone.”

  Kat rolled her eyes. “As if that is gonna happen. You are as bad as your pa. Which is exactly where you heard that.” She glanced at Maddie. “I swear, they are both always eating. How Aaron stays so thin is beyond me.”

  Madelyn was frying the bacon, moving and turning it, while Kat scrambled the eggs they’d just gathered. She did note Kat kept watching her out of the corner of her eye to make sure the meat didn’t burn. Considering this was her very first effort at it, albeit under the close supervision of Kat, she was downright proud of how she was doing.

  “Johnny, help your Uncle Luke set the table. Food’s almost ready.” Kat handed him some of the blue tin cups.

  “And I helped make the biscuits, Uncca Luke. Don’t forget you have to eat mine.”

  He leaned down to give the small girl a kiss on the cheek. “Would not dream of forgettin’, young’un. I promised, and I always keep my promises.” His eyes rose to meet Madelyn’s. “Always.”

  His words warmed her heart.

  “Luke, you need to lower where the chickens roost so Maddie can gather the eggs. It is too high for her now, unless you want her standing on a tipped over bucket or something. Would not want her to fall and get hurt.”

  His eyes widened as he reached for the butter and spread some on a biscuit. He looked between Kat and Maddie, the corners of his lips tipping up. “Too short, huh?”

  Madelyn huffed. “I am not short! Why does everyone keep saying I am?”

  A wry grin tipped up the corner of his mouth, but chose to take a bite of his biscuit instead of answering. “Mmmmm. This is delicious, Rebekah. You did a good job this mornin’.”

  The girl fairly burst with pride. “I made it just for you Uncca Luke.”

  “I know you did, darlin’, and you did a really good job.”

  He asked Kat, “What y’all got planned for the rest of the day?”

  “First we will chop vegetables and cut meat for the stew so it can simmer all day. Then, while the bread we worked on earlier is baking, I thought we would work on cutting apart one of Maddie’s dresses.”

  His eyes took in the fancy burgundy dress his wife wore, complete with lacy adornments. While it was beautiful on her—then again, she’d look beautiful even in one of their old flour sacks—he was glad she was willing to adapt her wardrobe. A hot surge of male protectiveness shot through him. The strong emotion startled him. Yet, he’d seen how people in town had stared at her—both in the mercantile and in the hotel. He didn’t want that for her. He wanted them to accept her. They’d love her once they got to know her. Just like he was learning to—

  Whoa! Where did that thought come from? Like her. Accept her as his wife. That’s what he’d meant to think. Certainly that other ‘l’ word had no place in his life. Not with a very stubborn Rebel woman he hardly knew.

  “Have you decided which dress you want to sew on first?” Kat dried her hands on a nearby cloth, then stirred the ingredients in the cast iron pot. “Mmmm. This is gonna be good. Luke will be thrilled with your first meal.”

  “It is not my meal. It is our meal. You are cooking most of it.”

  “Yes, but you know what to do now. And the longer you do this, the better you will get. You do not have to use beef each time either. You can switch the stew up by putting other meats in it. Or whatever vegetables you happen to have on hand. Each new item changes the flavor. That way you are not eating the same thing each night. That would be boring.”

  In the bedroom Madelyn drew a beige dress out of the wardrobe. “I thought we could work on this one. The colors are more muted than most of my dresses.”

  Kat gaped. “It is beautiful. Are you sure you want to change that?”

  Madelyn shrugged. “I do not really have a choice, do I? Unless I want to stick out like a sore thumb each time I head into town. I heard the people talking yesterday. Hiding their lips with their hands so I could not hear what they were saying and snickering at me.”

  Kat looked pensive. “Why not just make new ones?”

  “And waste money we do not need to spend? That would be silly, and I could only imagine the cap
tain fussing at me about it. And he would be well within his rights to do so. No, I have plenty of clothes. More than I will ever need living in Kansas City, I am sure. Why have them just hang in the wardrobe when we can turn them into dresses that will be more in line with what people here are used to seeing? I will just have to go through them all to try and find the ones with the softest colors.”

  She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Unfortunately, I always had an affinity for bright colors and that is what I tended to choose when I went to the modiste for a new frock.”

  Kat fingered the material. “Trust me, folks around here ain’t used to seeing dresses like these. I never had a dress so fine. The thought of you having to change it just does not seem right. And I do not think you should discount all your bright clothes if that is what you like. The lively colors look well with your coloring.”

  Madelyn tipped her head to the side. “Kat, please do not take this the wrong way, but do the women in town ever dress up, or do they always wear the same things? Like you are now.”

  Kat looked down at her dress. “Oh, sometimes we dress up. Not often, though. Don’t have many instances to do so. Maybe for a church sociable or special holidays—like an Independence Day dance or something around Thanksgiving or Christmas. Why?”

  “You are taller than I am, so none of my dresses would fit you without altering them. But it would be my honor if you chose a few of them and took them home to modify for those special occasions you talked about. I will never need all these clothes here. To put it mildly, the West is much different than I am used to.”

  Kat’s hand flew to cover her mouth as her eyes went to the open wardrobe. “Oh, I could never do such a thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why, it would not be proper.”

  “Nonsense. I offered them to you. You will have to think of a better excuse than that.”

  “Because they are simply too fine. I could never—”

  “Yes, you can. Please, Kat. Let it be my way of thanking you for all the help you are giving me—and I am sure will be giving me in the future.”

  “Well…”

  “Well nothing. Stand there and let me see which of these colors looks best on you.”

  She pulled out a bright pink dress.

  “Oh, I could never wear that. Aaron would think I have turned into a hussy.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oops. Sorry.”

  Madelyn tilted her head and assessed it, trying to suppress a smile at the image Kat painted. “No, you could not—or the people in town would no doubt be whispering about you next. But take it and fashion a dress for Rebekah. It would look perfect on her at her age. You could make her a dress and perhaps even a skirt you could match with a simple white blouse.” She held the gown out, eyeing it. “And if you cut the material just right, you might even have enough left over to make a matching bonnet or reticule.”

  Kat’s eyes widened in surprise and her hand flew to her chest. She stared at Maddie, her eyes uncertain, yet hopeful. “You would do that? You would give me that gorgeous dress to tear apart and use for little Rebekah?”

  Madelyn sat on the side of the bed. “Kat, you have no idea how many dresses I actually own. Most of them are not even in the wardrobe. They are still in my trunks. I am almost ashamed to say it, but back home I thought all of them necessary. One could not be seen at some important formal occasion wearing a garment someone else had already seen. It simply was not done.” She stopped cold. “Well, at least not in the circles we lived in. I am sure many that lived in other areas of town never had such selfish thoughts go through their minds. Or the means to afford a dress like this. They probably worried about things like having the money to put food on their table at night. I never before realized how truly spoiled I was. You must think me horrible.”

  “Of course not. Just because I don’t come from the same background you do, does not mean I am judging you. That is not my place.”

  Madelyn slowly surveyed the room. “Looking back, I cannot believe clothes—things—were so important. They really were not. I may have had things, but I never had the close family—the loving relationship—you have with your brother.”

  She released a huff. “But, that was another lifetime. Thanks to Father’s drinking and gambling and his subsequent death, it is one I may never return to. Hopefully if I do, I will have learned the significance of more important things than belongings.”

  Kat eased her head to one side; a frown marred her brow. “Return to? Why would you say something like that?” She stilled. “Do you want to? Do you regret marrying Luke? He is a fine man. One of the best I know, even if I am partial to him.” Her voice hitched. “Do you want to return to Atlanta?”

  Kat turned back to the wardrobe without waiting for the answer. “Are you gonna cut down all your dresses?”

  “The life I knew before is gone. The Atlanta I knew is gone. We were not staying there. When I met the captain, Father and I were headed to San Francisco.” She viewed the pink dress in her hands and rubbed her fingers over the smooth, satiny material.

  “While I have no doubt the life I would have lived in San Francisco would have included clothes like this, I do not think I will miss it. What I do miss is helping Father in his medical practice. That was a part of me. It meant far more than the clothes I owned or the fancy house I lived in.” She sucked in a sudden, strangling breath. “Do I regret marrying your brother? Kat, I honestly do not know how to answer that. I feel bad for him.”

  “Why?”

  “He should not have been forced to marry me. Been saddled with me as you might say. I will always feel bad about that. He should have been able to come home and choose a woman of his liking to marry. Someone he had courted and wooed. Fell in love with.” She faced the window as his handsome face intruded on her thoughts. “As to whether I will cut down all the dresses, no, I will not. That would make no sense.”

  A frown marred Kat’s brow. “Why not?”

  Madelyn fingered the material of the latest dress she’d pulled from the wardrobe. “Because then I would have no clothes for when I leave.”

  Kat stood from the chair she sat in and faced Madelyn. Her eyes blazed as she stood, arms akimbo. “What are you saying? Why would you leave? You are married to my brother! Marriage is forever.”

  Madelyn sank to the side of the bed. “Kat, I am being realistic. How long do you really think your brother is going to put up with me not being able to do things like he wants them? I am not cut out for life here. Yes, he told me he planned on us being married fifty or sixty years, but I do not really believe he meant that. He was just being kind. He will see the women in town like he did yesterday and realize he made a mistake. Especially after he keeps hearing people laugh at me.” For not the first time, she let doubt creep into her thoughts. Nervously, she smoothed a wrinkle from her dress.

  “After we got married, I told him he could set me aside as soon as Father left town. An annulment or divorce should have been easy for him to procure. He refused to do it. Yet I am sure now that he fully realizes all I lack—even though I did try to warn him—he will think about taking me up on that. At least then I shall still have some clothes I can take with me.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “In other words, I will not leave him—but I will go when he tells me to leave.”

  Kat harrumphed and lowered herself into the wooden chair beside the round table. “My brother rarely does anything he does not want to, Maddie. You will learn that quickly if you give yourself time to get to know him. Your father may have held a gun to him and made threats, but do you really think Luke could not have over-powered him and taken it away had he wanted to? My big brother survived four years in the War, advanced in rank to captain. Not everyone was blessed enough to do that, or to even survive. And he was a darned good fighter before he even went into the army. He had to be with our other brothers. Sam and Mark are the only ones that are younger than him, but even they fought. Wrestled. He learned to fight at a very young age and he
ld his own with them. He had to, or they would have whopped him relentlessly. It is what brothers do. Think about it. Do you really believe an old man could make him do something he didn’t want to?”

  “But—”

  “Regardless of what you may think happened in St. Louis, if my brother married you, it is because he saw something in you he wanted to be around.” She narrowed her eyes. “I understand you are scared. This is all new to you. But running away is not gonna solve anything.”

  Madelyn’s shoulders slumped. “As much as I want to try, I am not sure I am brave enough to face all the trials of a new life in a part of the country I know nothing about. I was only willing to do that in San Francisco because Father was with me. And despite what you want to believe because you think so highly of your brother, he cannot possibly really want me here.”

  “You do not know what you can do or not if you do not try.” Her words held a challenge in them. “Do not be in such an all-fired hurry to discount my brother. I do not cotton to the idea of you thinking to leave him. If he told you he planned to be married to you fifty or sixty years, he meant it,”—she grinned disarmingly—“so you had best have clothes to wear to get you through all those years. Now, let us go through these dresses. Best you commit yourself to this marriage full-on, or there is no sense wasting our time and cuttin’ even the first one. Or learning how to cook or tend a vegetable garden.

  “Your marriage is not a sham, Maddie, so stop treating it like it is. You were married in church before God. My brother does not break his promises to his Lord.” She eyed Madelyn closely. “I hope you don’t either.”

  Madelyn bit her lower lip, something she always did when she was nervous. “I am not a praying woman. God and I are not on speaking terms.”

  That seemed to surprise Kat and a frown marred her normally cheerful countenance. “Mind if I ask why? I cannot imagine my life without Him in it.”