The Cowboy’s Bride Collection: 9 Historical Romances Form on Old West Ranches

by Susan Page Davis, Vickie McDonough, Susanne Dietze, Nancy J. Farrier, Miralee Ferrell, Darlene Franklin, Davalynn Spencer, Becca Whitham

  Trey cleared his throat. “I can see you’re not ready to tackle riding, so Daisy and I will head back to the barn.” He reached for the reins.

  Sadie wasn’t about to let him think she didn’t have the nerve to ride that creature. She wasn’t scared, just a bit nervous and wrestling with the propriety of it. She hiked up her chin. “I’ll do it.”

  His surprised gaze shot back to hers. He really thought she was going to refuse.

  Well, she’d show him a thing or two. She scurried down the steps and crept up to the horse. She couldn’t see across the animal’s tall back. Glancing at the stirrup, she thought of the spectacle she’d make trying to get her shoe in it and climbing aboard the horse. “How do I get on?”

  “First rule. You always mount a horse from the left side.”

  “Why is that?” Sadie stared into Trey’s dark eyes. She often found men with dark brown eyes and hair appealing. Her stomach tightened—was she attracted to Trey? She had to squelch those feelings because he’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested in her.

  Trey blinked and looked away, as if he, too, realized they’d been staring at one another. “You mount on the left because that’s the way it’s always been.”

  “And we don’t dare break tradition?”

  His gaze zipped back to hers. “Uh… no. It’s because that’s the way horses are trained, and if you tried mounting on the right, the horse might react badly.”

  “Oh. That makes sense. Thank you for explaining it.”

  She turned and started to walk around the back of the horse, when Trey grabbed her arm and stopped her. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “Never walk right behind a horse without keeping a hand on its rump so it knows you’re there. Otherwise, it might get spooked and kick you.”

  She wasn’t even on the horse yet and there was so much to learn. Since she’d lived in town and church, friends, stores, and Franklin’s work had been nearby, they hadn’t owned a horse. And now she was afraid to walk behind the creature.

  Trey sighed. He placed his hand on the horse and dragged it across the rear end as he walked around Daisy. “You try it.”

  Sadie reached up, her heart pounding, and touched the horse’s side. The brown animal turned its head and stared at her. “Why is it looking at me?”

  “She can sense you’re afraid. Stay there.” He untied the horse, backed it up, and turned it so Sadie faced Daisy’s left side. Then Trey dropped the reins. He locked his fingers together and bent down. “Put your left foot in my hands, and I’ll boost you up.”

  “But no one is holding on to the horse.”

  “She’s ground tied. She won’t go anywhere.”

  Trusting he knew what he was talking about, Sadie moved up close to the horse, lifted her skirt just enough that she could step into Trey’s hand, and went flying up. She squealed and landed hard in the saddle, grabbing the horn to keep her seat. Things looked different from her high vantage point.

  Abby ran out the front door. “You did it, Ma!”

  Sadie couldn’t help grinning. “At least I’m on the beast.”

  Trey turned one stirrup a little. “Put your feet in the stirrups. Relax and try to not wiggle too much.” Trey gathered the reins and looked to be fighting a grin. His gaze flicked toward her leg then away. “Let’s try walking.”

  Sadie looked down, and her heart jolted at the sight of her stockings and petticoat. She stood up, tugged her skirt free, and covered herself better. She glared at Trey for staring, but he just ducked his head and stepped forward, as did the horse. She grabbed for the horn and pressed her legs against the horse, fearing she’d fall. But the animal’s walk was smooth, and with each step Daisy took, Sadie relaxed more. This wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was rather fun—except for the mounting part.

  Abby jogged down the porch steps and ran to Trey’s side. “Can I do it next?”

  He smiled down. “If your ma says so.”

  The girl spun around. “Can I, Ma? Please?”

  “Stop bouncing, Abby,” Trey said, stern but with a gentle tone. “You should always remain calm around horses.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  If there was any chance Abby might grow up on a ranch, her daughter would need to know how to ride and handle a horse. She’d have to trust God to keep her safe. The girl was too adventurous for Sadie’s liking. “If Trey has time, then you may ride.”

  Abby gazed up at him with pleading eyes. “Do you, Mr. Trey?”

  “I reckon so.”

  Abby started to squeal but slapped her hand over her mouth, evidently remembering Trey’s admonition. Sadie smiled, glad to see her daughter excited. It had been a long while since Abby had been so happy. She had a feeling Abby would thrive in a ranch environment, but what about herself? Could she manage the loneliness and isolation after living in town all her life?

  The next morning, Trey indulged himself on sliced ham, biscuits and gravy, and pancakes. “I forgot to tell you, Ma, you outdid yourself with that rhubarb pie we had last night.”

  Her brown eyes twinkled. “I didn’t make it, dear. Sadie did. She’s quite the cook.”

  Trey glanced over at Sadie. She leaned over to wipe Martha’s face. He waited until she straightened and looked his way. “The pie was very tasty.”

  “Thank you. It was nice of you to take time from your busy day to teach Abby and me how to ride.”

  He nodded. “Happy to oblige. Your daughter is a natural and will be riding on her own in a week.”

  “Oh boy!” Abby’s eyes glimmered with excitement.

  Sadie glanced at her daughter, but she didn’t look happy. “That doesn’t sound safe.”

  Trey leaned back in his chair. “I don’t mean she’ll be out riding alone, just that she won’t need my help. Someone will always be with her.”

  Sadie exhaled a loud breath. “Thank you. That makes me feel better.”

  He forked in another bite. Sadie had surprised him by agreeing to ride Daisy. He admired her for facing something she obviously feared, and she’d done better than he’d expected. But she still had much to learn, and not all tasks would be as enjoyable as riding a horse. Such as this morning’s job.

  “Will you be taking Sadie and Abby riding again today?” His ma rose, took her plate to the counter, and scraped the remains into the slop bucket.

  “Later. I have something else in mind this morning.”

  “Oh?” Sadie’s blue eyes widened. They really were pretty eyes.

  He fought a grin. “I saved the egg collectin’ for you.”

  “So that’s why we didn’t have any additional ones this morning. I wondered.” Ma took his plate and Abby’s.

  Sadie wiped Martha’s hands and helped her down. “I’ll come out after I help with the dishes.”

  “No, you go on. The girls can help.”

  Sadie gazed at his ma as if she wanted to object.

  “You’ve got to learn these things,” Ma said.

  “I know.” Sadie picked up her cup. “If you’re sure.”

  “I am. Abby, grab your mother’s plate. Martha, you bring the silverware.”

  “I get it.” Martha stood on her tiptoes and reached out to grab her spoon. Trey slid his closer to the edge of the table, as did Sadie.

  She turned his way. “It looks like I’m free to collect eggs now.”

  He nodded and walked out.

  “You girls obey Mrs. Carpenter. I’ll be back shortly.”

  “When do I get to collect eggs?” Abby hollered.

  “Soon enough,” Ma said. “First your mother needs to learn.”

  Trey held open the front door, and Sadie slipped past him. She looked pretty in her mint-green dress, although she looked best in blue, which highlighted her eyes. He frowned as he stalked toward the henhouse. What did it matter what color dress she wore?

  “This is one of the nicest henhouses I’ve seen. Some of our former neighbors had them, but we never did. Franklin, my husband, didn’t care for animals.�
�

  He glanced at the small fenced building, proud of his workmanship. “Thank you. I built it not long after I moved here. I love bacon and eggs and needed a place to keep the hens safe from the wild critters.”

  “You did a fine job. We had some neighbors who had a playhouse built for their four daughters that wasn’t as nice as this one.”

  Trey stood a bit taller. Most men he knew were good with a hammer. No one had complimented him on the chicken coop before, and he indulged in the moment. “We always keep the gate latched so the hens don’t get loose.”

  She nodded, and they slipped inside. The hens that were out rushed up to them, and Sadie stepped closer to him, touching her hand to his sleeve.

  “They won’t hurt you. They’re merely eager for breakfast.” He walked to the side of the building and twisted a latch on the double doors. “Here’s where I keep the feed.”

  “That’s rather ingenious of you to build a storage cabinet on the outside of the building. It keeps you from having to carry feed from the barn each day.”

  He was glad she had the intelligence to figure that out. “It saves a few steps and a little time. Scoop half a bucket or so of feed from the bags, then pour most of it in the feeder and scatter some around the yard. And always be sure to close these doors when you’re done.”

  He tossed a handful of feed, sending the hens running. The big rooster strutted out the door of the henhouse and down the ramp. He hurried over to the feed, pushing his way through the hens. “He’s the one you have to watch out for. It’s best to gather the eggs while he’s occupied.” Trey opened the door, and Sadie followed him in.

  “Whew! It smells in here.”

  “That it does. Just wait until cleaning day.”

  “I think I could wait forever for that.” Sadie chuckled. “Why are those hens still in here?”

  “They’re sitting on eggs that I’m leaving so I’ll get more chicks. Don’t bother them. Search the other nests, gather what you find, and be careful where you step. There may be eggs on the floor, too.”

  Sadie grabbed two eggs and placed them in the basket Trey held. “This isn’t as bad as I expected.”

  “Sometimes you’ll have to shoo a hen off her nest. You have to be careful or you can get pecked.”

  “I see.” Sadie reached for another egg.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Trey saw the rooster rush in. The old bird headed right for Sadie. “Look out!”

  She straightened, but the bird attacked her from behind, pecking at her skirts. Sadie squealed and high-stepped toward Trey, trying to keep her calves away from the bird’s sharp beak. Trey reached for her with one arm, while holding the bucket of eggs with the other, and kicked at the rooster. He lost his balance as Sadie collided with him, and fell back against the row of nesting hens. Squawking birds flew over his head and to the ground, rushing out of the building. Trey struggled to rise with Sadie half lying on him. She looked up as he glanced down, and their gazes locked. His heart stampeded as they stared at one another for a long moment.

  She looked down and pushed against his chest. “I’m so embarrassed.” She attempted to rise but seemed to be in a wrestling match with her skirts. The egg in her hand was crushed and oozed through her fingers “Oh no! My dress is filthy.”

  Befuddled by his reaction to her nearness, he rose. “At least none of the eggs in the bucket broke.”

  She stared up at him. He waited for her to lash out because of her ruined dress, but she started giggling, and that made him smile.

  “If you dare tell anyone that cranky rooster attacked my… um… bustle, I’ll never bake you another pie.”

  He chuckled. “My lips are sealed.”

  “Good. Let’s finish and get out of here.”

  As Trey latched the gate, Sadie gazed up at him. “We have a deal. Remember?”

  He grinned, nodding. He wasn’t about to risk not getting pie. The only time he got to enjoy his favorite dessert was when Ma was here or the rare occasions when he ate in town or at a friend’s house.

  “I almost dread finding out what my next chore is.”

  Trey smiled. “You’ll love milking. You get to sit while you do it. I’ve already done the morning milking, so we’ll have to wait until this evening.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “Do ranchers’ wives truly do all these tasks, or are you having a little fun at my expense?”

  “The ones I know help out however they’re needed.”

  She stopped at the well. “I need to clean up before going inside.”

  He set the bucket of eggs on the ground and drew up a pail of fresh water. “You’re doing fine, Sadie. Most of the ranchers’ wives I know grew up on farms or ranches. You need to realize that you’re learning a whole lot of things at one time while they had their whole childhood to master them. You’ll do fine.”

  She dipped her hands in the water then flipped them dry. “You really think so?”

  He nodded. So far she’d impressed him. Two days ago he was looking forward to the day she’d leave. Now he wasn’t so sure he wanted to let her go.

  Chapter 5

  Trey tapped the final nail into old Samson’s hoof, twisted off the sharp point, and clinched the end against the hoof wall. He filed down the rough spots then released the horse’s leg and straightened. Abby quietly held Samson’s lead rope, a big grin on her face. She’d begged to help him, and he knew his big draft horse would stand and take whatever they dished out with no fuss, so he let Abby assist him.

  “Was I a good helper?”

  “The best.” Holding back a grin, Trey put his farrier tools away in the tack room. For a city girl, she sure did like ranch chores.

  “What’s next?”

  He was having a hard time coming up with tasks that she could do and not get hurt. “It’s about time for the women to start supper, so you probably should wash up and go in and help.”

  She ducked her head. “I’d rather be out here with you.”

  A warm glow heated his chest. “I appreciate that, but I need to check on my men.” He should have been helping them move the cattle to the west pasture instead of piddling in the barn, but Abby had been so earnest in her desire to assist him that he couldn’t turn her away. “I like havin’ you here, but there are some things you’re too young to do.”

  She crossed her arms. “Aw… shucks. I don’t like inside chores. I like helping with the animals.”

  Trey wondered how the girl’s father would have handled the situation. He squatted on his boot heels. “There are chores that I don’t particularly like to do, too, but they have to get done.”

  She looked at him with such innocence. “Like what?”

  “Move the outhouse.”

  She blinked several times and started giggling. “That is a dirty, stinky job, I reckon.”

  Trey felt gut-punched. He’d never heard her use reckon before. Her mother sure didn’t. Had the girl picked that up from him?

  Abby looked past him. “Somebody’s here.”

  He stood and headed out of the barn, raising his hand to his neighbor, Harley Biggs, and one of his daughters riding behind him. He swiped at a trickle of sweat running down his temple. “Howdy, Harley. What brings you here?”

  “Emily—my oldest daughter—baked y’all a pie. We heard you had company, and she wanted to be neighborly.” He passed the pie to Trey then flicked his thumb behind him. “Betsy, my youngest, heard there was a gal about her age stayin’ here and wanted to meet her.” At hearing her name, the dark-haired girl peeked around her father and grinned.

  Abby took hold of Trey’s hand then waved. “I’m Abby. I’m six. How old are you?”

  “Seven. Can I get down, Pa?”

  Harley looked at Trey. “That okay with you?”

  Trey nodded, feeling oddly out of sorts with the little girl hanging on to him. “Come on up to the porch, and we’ll sit while the girls get acquainted.”

  Harley smiled and lowered his daughter halfway to the ground th
en released her. Like a cat, she landed on her feet and scurried over to her new friend. “Where do you hail from?”

  “What?” Abby scrunched up her nose and glanced at Trey.

  “She’s askin’ where you’re from.”

  “Oh. Kansas City.”

  “I’m a Texan, born and bred.” Betsy straightened as if proud of her heritage.

  “Abby, do you think you could take this pie to your ma?”

  “Yes, Mr. Trey.”

  He handed it to her, and the two girls headed toward the house, chattering like magpies. Trey grinned. “After having a houseful of females for several days, I’ve realized what life must be like at your place.”

  “Listening to all that chatter can be mighty tiresome. Sometimes my ears want a nap.”

  Chuckling, Trey led Harley’s horse to the trough. After the horse drank, he looped the reins over the corral railing.

  “You think we could talk in the barn instead of on the porch? Got something to say, and I don’t want no womenfolk listening in.”

  Trey nodded, curious about his neighbor’s visit. Once inside the barn, Harley’s feet started shuffling—a sure sign he had something on his mind.

  “If this is about my cattle on your land—”

  “You know that doesn’t bother me.” He scratched his ear then rubbed the back of his neck. Harley stood a good six inches shorter than Trey and was probably five to ten years older, but he was still a well-conditioned man. Harley had always been a good neighbor. For the life of him, Trey couldn’t figure what was bothering him.

  “I ain’t good with small talk, so I’ll just ask my question. Is that gal stayin’ here spoken for yet?”

  Trey’s first thought was his ma. His fingers clenched, and then he remembered Sadie. “Oh… uh… nope. You’re the first to come askin’ about her.”

  “You’re not keepin’ her for yourself? I noticed how that little gal latched on to you.”

  “I think Abby has taken a shine to me, but that doesn’t mean I aim to marry her ma.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Harley relaxed and smiled. His right eyetooth overlapped one of his front teeth a bit, but other than that, Trey figured a woman might find the tanned rancher good-looking. Still, for some reason, he didn’t think Harley and Sadie would make a good match. But it wasn’t up to him.