Montana Sky: Amanda's Rancher (Kindle Worlds) (Loving A Rancher Book 1)

by Caroline Clemmons

  Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Debra Holland. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Montana Sky remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Debra Holland, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Amanda’s Rancher

  By

  Caroline Clemmons

  Introduction

  Welcome to Montana Sky Series Kindle World, where authors write books set in my 1880s “world” of Sweetwater Springs and Morgan’s Crossing, Montana. Aside from providing the backdrop of setting and townsfolk, I haven’t contributed to the stories in any way. The authors bring their own unique vision and imagination to the KW books, sometimes tying them into their own series.

  Amanda’s Rancher is written by Caroline Clemmons. I met Caroline online in 2012. Although we met only briefly in person, we are in several of the same Facebook groups and collaborated on a box set titled Courting The West. She has linked her Kindle World book to her Kincaid series.

  I hope you enjoy reading Amanda’s Rancher.

  Debra Holland

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Barley Town, Georgia, March 1887

  Always a light sleeper, Mara O’Sullivan was awakened by rustling. Panic clawed at her. They’ve come for me. Dear Lord, protect me.

  Silently, she slipped from bed and flattened herself beside the door, not that the flimsy walls of her room behind the mercantile would offer protection.

  A soft rap followed. “Mara, it’s Vern Baxter. Don’t light a lamp.”

  The sheriff? Pressing her head near the wood, she whispered, “Uncle Vern, why are you here in the middle of the night?”

  “Get your things together while I get your reward from the banker. I’ll be back with horses.”

  She hugged her arms. Even in a whisper she heard the ominous tone in his voice. “What’s happened?”

  “Just had a wire they’ve escaped. Killed one of the guards. We’ll ride out tonight. I’ll put you on a train once we reach Atlanta.”

  “Clyde’s kin are watching my place. They’ll stop me if I try to leave.”

  A soft chuckle greeted her ears. “Jed’s tied up and out cold. He’s through spying for tonight. You keep your place dark and I’ll be back within half an hour.”

  Mara rushed around her small room. She figured even the sheriff couldn’t pry a reward out of the skinflint banker. Whatever, she’d be ready when Uncle Vern returned. If Clyde Snyder found her, all she could expect was a slow, painful death.

  Sheriff Vern Baxter strode to the banker’s home, heedless of the fact the time was near midnight. He turned the door ringer then pounded on the door.

  “All right, all right.” Geoff Tolbert opened the door wearing a flannel bathrobe and with his hair spiked like a porcupine’s quills. “Sheriff? What’s all the commotion at this time of night? Not another robbery?”

  “Snyder and his gang escaped. More ’n likely they’re headed this way to silence Miss O’Sullivan. I have to get her away before she’s killed. Came for the reward you owe her.”

  Tolbert’s stubborn expression combined with his frizzed hair made him look like a pouting child. “I told you I don’t aim to give her a reward.”

  Baxter stepped closer. “If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have caught those men in time to save the bank’s money. You owe her, same as any other citizen. Ten percent is the usual fee.”

  The banker practically snorted. “Ten percent? Are you crazy, sheriff? She grew up in a brothel. Her mother was a whore.”

  “And what does that have to do with anything? She’s a nice young woman who’s tried to follow the law and do what’s right.”

  “Humph, you always were sweet on her mother. You take to the daughter too?”

  “I ought to plant my fist in your teeth for even saying such a thing. Yes, I wanted to marry Bessie, but she said that would ruin my life. She made me promise to protect Mara, though, and I’ll do my durned best.”

  Baxter lowered his voice so no one in the household could overhear. “I intend to see her rewarded or I’m spreading all over town how often you visited her mother. I imagine your wife would be interested in those facts and wouldn’t enjoy her friends learning about them.”

  After a quick glance toward the stairs, Tolbert stepped closer. “See here, that’s blackmail.”

  Baxter crossed his arms and braced his feet in his no nonsense stance. “Call it what you want. I’m not backing down.”

  With a disgusted expression, Tolbert turned. “Come into my study. I have some cash in the safe.”

  “As I well know.” Baxter followed him, trying to soften the thump of his boots due to the late hour.

  The banker opened his large safe and took out a bundle of bills. “I’m not giving her ten percent. That’d be a thousand dollars, a ridiculous sum for a woman of her age and experience.”

  Baxter made a gimme motion with his fingers. “Start counting out bills, Tolbert.”

  Tolbert counted a stack and pushed them across the desk. “There’s two hundred, more than enough for her to get away from here.”

  “You’re the stingiest sonofagun I know. This will help her, though, so I’m letting you off easy. Go back to bed and dream of counting your gold.”

  From the banker’s house, Baxter strode as if making his usual night rounds of the town. When he reached the livery stable, he called toward the back, “Just me, Rufus, go back to sleep.” He saddled his horse and a spare then rode behind the stable and into the night.

  ***

  Circle K Ranch near Morgan’s Crossing, Montana Territory

  Preston Kincaid filled a cup of water from the pump at the sink. He sipped it as he admired the new kitchen he and his father had added. He could picture a woman here, cooking and fussing over him. Not many dishes filled the cupboards, but there were four of everything they’d need.

  He rapped a hand on the new range. “I’ll bet this is as fancy as any they have in Atlanta.”

  His father hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. “Bound to be. Wish Ellie would have had this for cooking when we were back in Texas. Wooee, wouldn’t she have been proud?”

  Preston set his tin cup in the sink. “I hope Amanda Eppes will be. She was kind of vague about her housekeeping skills. Danged if I won’t be disappointed if she’s not as good a cook as Mama. She’s got a little girl, so I figured a mother would know how to do what’s needed to care for a family.”

  He’d worried about her skills considerably since he’d sent her the ticket money. If she was used to having servants, like as not she would be a stranger to hard work. He didn’t have time, patience, or cash for a frivolous woman who
expected everything done for her.

  “Son, you did the right thing picking a widow with a child. Likely that little girl will be company for her when we’re gone all day.”

  “Reckon you’re right. Women like company of others more than we do. Of course, we have each other and that’s a difference.” He strolled to peer out the window near the kitchen table. Spring crept out of winter and he was glad. September through March had been the coldest on record. “Sure would have been nice to have a willing woman to cuddle up to at night the past few months.”

  Papa shook his head and sat in his chair by the parlor fireplace. “If I can’t have your mama, then I’m not interested in any woman. But, I sure am looking forward to hearing the sweet Georgia drawl from a genteel Southern lady.”

  Papa’s eyes grew misty and he gazed at the wall as if seeing a different scene. “The minute I saw your mama I knew she was the one for me. And when she spoke, I swear I’d of married her right then and there.”

  Preston laughed at the story he’d heard more times than he could count. He followed his father the few steps into the parlor and took his customary chair. Leaning back, he linked his hands over his middle. “My bride ought to be on her way by now. Gideon said he’d bring the little girl’s furniture tomorrow.”

  A frown marred his father’s brow. “After the summer drought and the hard winter we had, you’re being mighty generous with your cash. I’ll bet O’Reilly’s cabinet shop would have been cheaper.”

  Papa held up a hand to stay any protest. “I know you’ve been saving until now, but you got to be cautious. You already paid him to make the new furniture for your room.”

  Preston straightened in his chair and leveled a gaze at his father. “You know I’m proud of what we have here, Papa, so don’t misunderstand.” He swept his arm in a broad motion. “Look around and think how this place might look to a woman coming from a fine Atlanta home.”

  He gestured to the windows. “No draperies, no rugs, no little thingamajigs sitting around because there’re no little tables and such. She ought to at least have a few good pieces of furniture waiting for her.”

  His father scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “Reckon you’re right. I recollect your grandparents’ house. That was one fancy place until the Yanks burned it.”

  Preston didn’t want his father getting started on the War Between the States. “Our place is sound and we can build on again if there’s a need. In the meantime, don’t think she’ll find any furniture anywhere nicer than Gideon Walker makes.”

  He relaxed to enjoy what was left of the evening. In his mind’s eye, he pictured a gracious woman. Her face was vague because the photo she’d sent was not focused properly.

  Nevertheless, he saw her caring for her daughter and a stair-step line of boys and girls they’d have together. She’d be loving and capable, all done in her gracious Southern manner. He smiled, wishing the day of her arrival would hurry.

  ***

  Atlanta, Georgia

  Standing on the depot platform, Mara’s heart pounded louder than a racing horse’s hooves. She glanced each way, praying she didn’t see the men who’d sworn to kill her. “Do you see them, Uncle Vern?”

  Vern cupped her elbow and hurried her toward the passenger cars. “No sign of ’em, but there’s no doubt in my mind they’ll be after you. Get on board and keep a sharp eye out for who rides with you.”

  “I will. You think I should stay in St. Louis?”

  The sheriff shook his head. “Get to some small town off the rail route and become part of the community. If or when Snyder shows up, he’ll stand out and you’ll have friends to help you.”

  She’d waited in a back room at the train depot until barely time to board before the train departed. Now, hurrying across the platform, she was exposed. Still, she hugged his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me, especially since Mama died, Uncle Vern. I’ll never forget you. I appreciate you getting me that reward and bringing me into Atlanta.”

  “You’re close as I’ll come to having a daughter, Mara.” His eyes shining with moisture, he handed her the one suitcase that held her worldly possessions worth taking with her. “You’re the only one willing to stand up to Clyde Snyder. You sure as he…heck had the reward coming for being brave enough to testify against him and his gang.”

  Cold chills ran up her spine at the mention of Clyde’s name. “Just the same, I don’t think the banker would have given the likes of me the cash without you asking him. I can’t thank you enough for this chance to start over.”

  The sheriff’s gaze scanned their surroundings as he helped her up the steps to enter the car. “Your red hair’s like a beacon. Keep that bonnet snug around your face and hurry. Forget about this place.”

  She waved goodbye to the kindly lawman who was the closest thing to a father she’d had and who had always been a gentleman towards her. Turning, she made her way through the crowded car.

  ***

  Vern Baxter watched Mara board the train. She was the reason he’d stayed in Barley Town after her mother died. As he’d told her, the young woman was like a daughter to him. Her mother would be proud of the woman Mara had become.

  He knew Clyde Snyder wouldn’t give up until they’d killed her for testifying against them. While he was in Atlanta, durned if he wouldn’t take care of some business. He planned to see a judge about an appointment. Dad-blamed if he’d let that vicious killer get his little girl.

  ***

  Inside the passenger car, Mara picked a seat beside a woman and a child.

  The woman was dressed in a beautiful mauve serge traveling suit with matching hat. Over her suit, she wore a tan duster. When she turned her face away from the window, she revealed hair as auburn as Mara’s. She appeared perfect in spite of the fact that Mama had always said redheads shouldn’t wear pink.

  The auburn-haired girl was well-dressed, too, in a lace-trimmed blue ensemble that must have cost as much as an adult’s costume. Probably as much as Mara had made in two months working at the general store back home in Barley Town. The girl clutched a doll and quietly offered a shy smile.

  Mara set her case in the overhead storage. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit beside you.” Without waiting for an answer, she took her seat. “My, the train’s crowded, isn’t it? Guess a lot of people are heading to St. Louis.”

  “I’m going all the way to Montana Territory.” The woman directed her attention to Mara. “I’m Amanda Eppes and my daughter is Iris Grace, who’s three.”

  “I’m Mara O’Sullivan. You have a long trip in store.”

  They fell into conversation and the woman revealed far more than Mara would have told a stranger. “I’m going west as a mail-order bride.”

  Mara couldn’t hide her surprise. “But you’ve a child. I thought mail-order brides were spinsters.”

  The other woman tilted her head. “Most are but I’m a widow. My husband and parents were killed in the same accident three months ago. Only four months before that, several of our warehouses had burned.”

  She shook her head. “My husband Caleb was in charge of keeping the insurance paid and he’d let it lapse. Papa had to mortgage our home and other warehouses to pay for the ruined goods and rebuild, but the new warehouses weren’t completed. When Papa died, the bank foreclosed on everything.”

  Mara pressed her hand on the woman’s arm. “How horrible for you, losing your parents, your husband, and your home so suddenly. What about your in-laws?”

  With a sigh, her new friend shook her head. “Caleb was an orphan. We met because he worked for my father.”

  “So there’s no chance of help from his family. Could you salvage anything from your estate?”

  Amanda gave a wry laugh. “I was lucky to get out with Iris’ and my clothes.” She leaned closer. “I did manage to include a few pieces of jewelry we kept hidden. They weren’t included in the mortgage, but would have been snatched by the banker if he’d known they existed.”
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  “Family pieces?” Mara touched her great-grandmother’s brooch at her throat, the only thing Mama’d had to hand down to her.

  The other woman nodded. “Several from as far back as my great-grandmother. I simply couldn’t forfeit them to people who would only see them for their monetary value. They represent family to me. I hope someday to hand them down to Iris and any other children I may have.”

  Mara wished she had something of value from her family. Her treasured brooch was probably worthless to anyone but her. The cameo was pretty, but the stones surrounding it were likely only paste. In spite of that, the jewelry was priceless to her because it reminded her of her mother.

  Her seat companion asked, “Do you have family in St. Louis?”

  With a sigh, Mara admitted, “I don’t have family anywhere. At least none that I know.”

  She wouldn’t count the father who’d rejected her and her mother and lived somewhere in Atlanta. At least, she guessed he was still there. Although Mama had said he was a wealthy man, he wasn’t worth spit to Mara.

  “So, we’re in the same situation, except I have Iris.” Amanda lovingly smoothed a hand over her daughter’s shoulder. “She’s a big responsibility, especially now that we’re on our own.”

  Before she caught herself, Mara asked, “Does the man you’re going to marry know about her?”

  “Oh, yes, he’s even built a room on to his house for her. Mr. Kincaid’s a rancher and just he and his dad live there. He’s enlarged the house for my benefit and has a new kitchen range.”

  She grimaced. “He doesn’t have servants and expects me to prepare meals and clean and do laundry.”

  Mara assessed the other woman. “Can you?”

  Amanda’s brow furrowed and she wrung her hands. “Not well. I-I’ve been staying with our former cook since we had to leave our home last month. Nonnie taught me a few simple dishes and how to do laundry and clean a house. She gave me instructions which I’ve written down and have in one of my trunks. I’m afraid Mr. Kincaid will be sorely disappointed in me.”

  Mara smiled with false assurance. “You’re a lovely woman and your daughter seems a joy. I’m sure that will go a long way to making up for any lack of skill.”