Addie hurried into the back room right as the bell on the front door rang. Surely the customer could wait—or possibly they could send him for a doctor. She spied a narrow cot with a blanket spread over it, pushed against the back wall, then returned quickly to the area where she’d left Grant tending the woman. “Is she all right?”
A man stood inside the door, gaping, then he rushed forward and knelt by the woman’s side. “What happened here? Is Clara not well?”
Addie heard the concern and worry in his voice. Could this be her husband? “She fainted, but we’re not sure why. Should we move her into the back room? I saw a cot where she could rest while you get a doctor.”
He nodded. “I’ll take her and see to her. You wait out here.”
Addie glanced at Grant and raised her brows, surprised at the brusque reply. As soon as he disappeared, she dropped her voice and leaned close to Grant. “Should we try to find a doctor, or leave it to him? Do you suppose that’s her husband?”
Grant nodded. “I can’t imagine he would’ve taken her into the back room if he wasn’t. But let’s wait until he returns, since we don’t know where the doctor lives.”
A few minutes later, the man stepped from behind the counter, his face still grim. “She’s awake, and I gave her water. Apparently she only fainted, but I want her to rest. Did you say something to upset her?”
Addie straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “This is Grant Hollister, who was kind enough to ride two hours to bring me, and I’m Addie Patrick. I came at the request of Sam Tolliver. I simply told her that I’m his betrothed and had arrived in town much later than expected due to the storm, then she fainted. I have no idea why.”
The man took a step backward and leaned against the high wooden counter. “You’re Addie Patrick? But that’s not possible. You’re supposed to still be in Iowa. What are you doing here?”
Grant stepped forward, wanting to shake or throttle this man who must certainly be Sam Tolliver. What kind of game was he playing? Addie had gone as pale as milkweed, and she was shaking as though blown by a strong wind. “I think you need to introduce yourself, sir. And explain what’s going on here.”
The man grasped the edge of the counter. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” He swiped a hand across his damp forehead. “I’m Sam Tolliver.” He kept his gaze on Grant and avoided looking at Addie. “Could someone please explain why Miss Patrick is here?”
Addie moved closer to Grant. “Because you sent a letter asking me to come, saying that you would marry me when I arrived. I came, assuming you were a man of your word.”
His face couldn’t have gone much paler, but somehow it did. “But—I didn’t expect you’d get on the next train and come right out. I sent you another letter, a week or two later. Surely you received it before you left?”
She shook her head. “No, I did not. Why would you send another one after you’d asked me to come? And why wouldn’t you have expected me to come soon?”
Tolliver’s hand trembled against the wood edge of the counter. “It was winter. I assumed I’d get a letter in return, telling me you would come in the early spring. When I didn’t receive a reply, I waited two weeks and sent another missive.”
Grant growled low in his throat, not sure whether to throttle this man or rejoice over where this could be headed. “Saying what, exactly?”
Tolliver’s head swung from Grant to Addie and back to Grant. “That I’d met someone—a widow who’d moved here to be with her brother. I asked if Miss Patrick would release me from my promise to marry her, so that I might court Mrs. Sutherland.” His head tipped in the direction of the back room.
Addie bit her lip, suddenly understanding why the woman had fainted when hearing that Tolliver’s espoused bride had appeared. Her stomach knotted in fear. What was this man trying to tell her? She felt nothing for him—no spark of attraction—but what would happen to her if he decided not to marry her?
Grant had been kind in saying he’d like to have her at his ranch, after she’d blurted out that she’d like to work for him, but he didn’t need another employee. And he hadn’t declared himself or asked her to marry him, so she couldn’t assume the hug he’d given her was anything more than sympathy for her situation. “So you’re married to Mrs. Sutherland now, or betrothed—you no longer want me?”
He shook his head. “No, I am not married. But when I didn’t get a reply, I assumed you might be upset that I’d asked to break our engagement—and that last letter was sent a little over two weeks ago. It didn’t occur to me you’d already taken a train and hadn’t received my letters.” He wrung his hands.
Grant leveled a stare at the man. “So what are your intentions? Do you still desire to court Mrs. Sutherland, or do you intend to claim Miss Patrick as your wife, now that’s she’s arrived?”
Addie wasn’t sure what she hoped to hear. Grant must not want her for himself. If that was the case, she’d have to go through with her obligation in spite of her desire to be free.
Sam Tolliver closed his eyes for a second as though trying to steady himself, then opened them and stared at Addie. “I will keep my promise to you, Miss Patrick. It’s the right thing to do after asking for your hand.” He bowed his head. “I’ll explain to Mrs. Sutherland that I cannot move forward with a courtship, and offer her my sincerest apology. I can put you up in our town’s hotel until you’re ready to marry, if that would suit you. Please accept my sincerest regrets for the upset this has caused you.”
Addie wanted to weep. She looked at Grant’s rigid stance and hard eyes, then over at the regret clouding Mr. Tolliver’s face, and nodded. She would do the right thing—the only thing she could do in the circumstances—she’d marry Sam Tolliver. “Thank you, Mr. Tolliver. I will accept that offer and marry you, if it can be soon.”
He gave a brief nod. “I’ll make the arrangements for later this afternoon. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll explain to Mrs. Sutherland then send for the preacher.”
Chapter 14
Grant’s stomach twisted into a tangle of knots. Addie hadn’t said anything—other than asking if she could work at the ranch. Did he dare press his suit after Tolliver had stated his intentions? “I know this is what you’ve wanted, Miss Patrick, from the beginning. Now that Mr. Tolliver is going to do what’s right, I’m sure you’ll be happy.” He waited for a second, but she stood mute and unmoving. If she’d only give him a hint that she wanted to be more than his employee, he’d carry her out of here and not think twice.
He backed toward the door then wheeled and bolted before he could make a fool of himself. He wanted to grab Addie, throw her onto her horse, and ride out of this town and away from Sam Tolliver as fast as was possible.
As he swung open the door and darted outside, he thought he heard a sob. He pulled the door shut but glanced inside for one last look at Addie. She stood with her hands over her face, shoulders shaking. Grant stood rooted to the boardwalk. What in tarnation was he thinking, leaving the woman he loved behind to marry another man? He was an idiot, allowing her to think he was happy with the situation and willing to let her go. Well, he wasn’t, and that was a fact.
He shoved the door open so hard that the bell almost jangled off its hook. It took two strides to reach Addie’s side. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her, but she still belonged to another man. Stopping in front of her, he tipped up her chin and gazed into her tear-drenched eyes. “Do you care for me, Addie? As a woman would care for a man, not as a brother, a friend, or a possible employer?”
She stilled for a few heartbeats then nodded. “Yes.” The word came out on the breath of a whisper, but it hit his heart like a thunderclap.
Grant released her and whirled toward the back room. “Tolliver. We need to talk.”
The shopkeeper came through the back door and strode toward them, halting only a step from Addie. “What’s going on here?” He motioned to Addie and frowned. “Why is she crying? I made things right, didn’t I? What else do you need fro
m me?”
Grant straightened to his full height. “You kept your word and honored your promise, but there’s something more you can do if you’re willing.”
Tolliver’s brows drew together. “I can’t imagine what that might be. I just finished telling Mrs. Sutherland that I’ll be marrying Miss Patrick, and I plan to do so.”
He leaned toward the man. “But you’d prefer to court Mrs. Sutherland, is that correct?”
Tolliver stared at Grant but didn’t reply for a long moment. “I believe that would be rude and unchivalrous to confirm. I’m willing to do my duty, and that should be enough.”
Grant tipped his head. “That’s as I would expect, but your eyes and voice have confirmed my question. I believe I have a solution for you and Mrs. Sutherland, as well as for Miss Patrick, if you’ll hear me.”
“Go ahead.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But I can’t imagine what it might be. I will not renege on my word.”
Grant smiled. “Not even if I tell you there’s someone else who wants to marry Miss Patrick today, and give her a home?”
Addie gasped and reached out for something to hold on to, not certain her legs would hold her up. Marry her today, and give her a home? When Grant had asked if she cared, she had no idea he planned to take things this far—this fast. She’d assumed he’d meant he cared for her and wished to know if the feeling was reciprocated, but this—this—she didn’t even know what to think. Until joy exploded in her chest and sent warmth throughout her body.
Grant stepped close to her outstretched hand and clasped it then drew her toward him. “If she’ll have me, that is.” He gazed into her eyes then turned and leveled a look at Sam. “And if you’ll release her into my care. I grew to love Addie while she was at my ranch, under the watchful eye of my housekeeper. I knew it even before I brought her to Mt. Dora, but I didn’t speak, as I knew Addie was promised to you.”
Tolliver relaxed his tight stance. “And what has changed now that’s made you speak up?”
Grant motioned toward the back room. “Mrs. Sutherland’s reaction when Addie said she was here to find you, her betrothed. I believe the woman is in love with you, as you are with her. But as a man who desires to keep his word, you’re willing to sacrifice that chance at happiness. I’m afraid I’m not willing to allow that, or to let Addie or myself be unhappy the rest of our lives as a result. Will you release Miss Patrick to me, if she’s willing, so you can move forward with your suit with Mrs. Sutherland?”
Addie trembled as Grant’s arm slipped around her shoulders. She wanted to fling herself into his arms and shout, “Yes—I want to marry you and make your home mine,” but her voice was mute. The decision would be Mr. Tolliver’s, not hers.
Tolliver looked from her to Grant. “A possible suit with Mrs. Sutherland is not the issue as this moment, Mr. Hollister.” He turned to Addie, his eyes softening. “Do you love him, Miss Patrick? Is it your desire to marry him rather than me? I want the truth now, not what you think is the proper thing to do. All of our futures rest on your answer, but let it be the one that comes from your heart, not your head.”
Addie shivered, but this time out of excitement, not dread. “Yes, I love him, and yes, I want to marry him, but I need your assurance you’ll resume your courtship with Mrs. Sutherland—if she still desires to, of course.”
A step sounded in the doorway behind the counter, and the woman in question walked in and stood by Tolliver. “She does still desire to, and I hope you and Mr. Hollister will be happy. In fact”—she smiled and her face broke into dimples—“I even have a dress you can borrow to get married in, if you’d like.”
Addie’s face warmed, but she nodded. “I’d love that, thank you. And maybe you’ll stand up with us?”
Grant drew her close to his side and placed a kiss on the top of her head then leaned down close to her ear. “And there are a lot more of those where that came from.” He straightened and grinned. “What do you say we change, get married, then celebrate with a meal, and head back to the ranch tomorrow?” He arched a brow at Tolliver. “You said there’s a good hotel in town?”
“There certainly is, with a fine restaurant as well.” He took Mrs. Sutherland’s hand and drew her toward the back room. “I’m going to flip the sign on the front door to CLOSED, then we’ll give these two a little privacy.”
As soon as they both disappeared, Addie turned to Grant. “You didn’t just say all that to keep me from marrying a man I don’t love?”
Grant cupped her face in his palm. “I did it in hopes you’d marry a man that loves you instead. And according to you, the man that you love. Was that part true?”
She smiled into his eyes. “More than anything in the world. And I’ll take that promised kiss now if you don’t mind.”
He arched a brow. “Just one?” He lowered his head toward her lips.
“Well…” Their lips met and her words were lost, but her heart was home at last.
Miralee Ferrell and her husband, Allen, live on eleven acres in Washington State. Miralee loves interacting with people, ministering at her church (she is a certified Lay Counselor with the AACC), riding her horse, and playing with her dogs. An award-winning and bestselling author, she speaks at various women’s functions and has taught at writers’ conferences. Since 2007, she’s had seventeen books release, both in women’s contemporary fiction and historical romance. Miralee recently started a newsletter, and you can sign up for it on her website/blog, www.miraleeferrell.com.
THE REFORMED COWBOY
By Darlene Franklin
Dedication
Thanks to my friends and fans for the use of their names: Ruthie Tweter Hasselblad, Donna Gilbert Kimpel, Sheila Snowden, and Gracie Louise Yost. They are all lovely ladies; I borrowed their names—any character flaws are of my own creation.
For our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, we have had our conversation in the world, and more abundantly to you-ward.
2 CORINTHIANS 1:12
Chapter 1
Wichita, Kansas, 1881
On the way to the afternoon meeting of the Ladies’ Society for the Betterment of Culture, Millie “the Magnificent” Cain and her best friend, Ellen Harper, passed several drovers. Of all the things she disliked since her family’s move from Boston, the stench of the twice-yearly cattle drives bothered her the most.
“Wes should be here any day now,” Ellen said. “I’ll invite you to dinner as soon as he arrives. Although I warn you, he’s a straightforward guy. He’s not looking for a lady with fancy manners.”
Wes. Warmth flooded Millie at the mention of Ellen’s cousin, with whom she had been corresponding for over a year. “‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.’” Wes had quoted Shakespeare more than once, saying her letters kept him sane during the arduous summer heat. The man who wrote those letters was a gentleman.
Another group of drovers straight from the trail approached. Millie doubled over, although she controlled her urge to lose the contents of her stomach. Most of the time, cowboys laughed off her discomfort and moved on. Not this time. One of them issued a whistle as clear as a mockingbird. “How about a smile for a lonely cowboy?”
Millie wished she had a prairie bonnet like Ellen’s to hide her flaming cheeks. Instead, she increased her speed moderately. A couple of cowboys headed toward them from the other direction but disappeared in a doorway.
The clip-clop of horses brought the cowboys closer. “Just one smile. Then I’ll leave you alone.” A short man removed his Stetson, revealing a bald spot on the top of his head.
Pushed beyond her limits, Millie faced the drovers. In her most precise Boston accent, she said, “I’m a proper lady, and I refuse to entertain a swarm of—filthy white trash.”
Ellen pulled on her arm, and Millie saw they had reached the intersection to her street. She practically ran down the stre
et until her breath caught her up short. A lady will exhibit a calm demeanor in all circumstances. Once she caught her breath, she and Ellen strolled the remaining blocks to her house.
After their encounter with the drovers, Millie was more eager than ever for the next project of Ladies’ Society for the Betterment of Culture. All the ladies felt that a decent gentleman resided beneath the surface of even the dirtiest cowboy. They only needed to be taught how. The class, taught by Millie and Ellen, would start on Monday morning.
“Hey, trail boss, are you sure you’re ready to meet that fancy lady of yours?” The question came by Tex, Wes Harper’s best friend on the Bar B Ranch and indispensable right-hand man on this year’s cattle drive.
A slow smile spread across Wes’s face. If Tex had any idea of the content of the perfume-scented letters he received on a regular basis, he’d tease his boss even more. Since the two of them hadn’t met face-to-face, Wes wasn’t ready to say he loved Millie Cain. But if she was as entertaining, witty, intelligent, and spiritual in person as she was in her correspondence, he didn’t know if he could help himself.
Which was why he had no intention of making her acquaintance until he had scrubbed all evidence of the trail drive from his body, from a good bath soak to a spot in a barber’s chair. If he wasn’t saving money to buy a spread of his own within a year, he might even buy a suit.
Now that they had finished the business of selling the herd and paying the hands, Wes and Tex were heading for the boardinghouse where they planned to spend the next few nights. Their cook, T-Bone, would join them there. Wes had cousins in Wichita, but as soon as he showed up at Ellen’s house, she would introduce him to Millie Cain. He wasn’t ready to meet the girl he had dreamed about every night on the trail with the stench of three thousand head of cattle clinging to him.
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