Tramp's Bride

by Kathleen Ball

  He watched as she made her way into his house and swore. How the heck did the subject of her being an old maid come up? A man would have to be crazy to allow her to get away. Though she did seem determined about not having a husband. Whoever won her was in for a hard ride.

  He went and leaned against the bunkhouse and rolled a smoke. Lighting it he took a deep draw. He spotted Cinders coming across the yard. If Ilene saw through his matchmaking scheme, he’d bet his horse Cinders did too.

  “That was a short walk. You must be rusty where women are concerned.”

  Tramp chuckled. “Well, I hadn’t planned on taking her for a walk.”

  “I know. You planned for Ilene and Rollo to take that romantic stroll. Shannon wanted me to tell you to either be more subtle or cut it out. She said something about making things awkward.”

  “I want my house back.”

  “We’ll figure out someplace Ilene can go.”

  Tramp smiled. “That’s what I was trying to do. I was trying to get her married.”

  “You were a bit obvious. Anyway most of the hands have proposed to her at one time or another. She’s a real sweet gal.”

  “Who else proposed to her?”

  “Why? You planning on finding new prospects?” Cinders shook his head.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. See ya in the morning.” Cinders pushed away from the side of the bunkhouse. “You’re going to find yourself in hot water one of these days.” He walked away muttering about people being in other people’s business.

  Tramp flicked his cigarette and walked into the bunkhouse. The men had been a bit boisterous before he walked in but now it was quiet as they all stared at him. “What?”

  Cookie stepped forward and tilted his head. “I’ve been elected to talk to you,” he said, his lined face serious. “Rollo didn’t take kindly to what you were trying to do at the supper table.” Cookie shook his head and ran his hand over his white whiskers.

  Tramp arched his eyebrow and stared at Rollo. “You couldn’t tell me yourself?” Tramp had remembered Rollo as a brave enough man to take care of his own business.

  Rollo’s blue eyes widened. “It’s not that—”

  Cookie stepped forward. “We all like Ilene, but we don’t want you setting us up on dates with her. You see, this here ranch has become a place for broken hearts. Ilene don’t cotton to any of us. Why, Adam over there even brought her flowers. Dill, AJ, and Speed all tried their luck. She sure don’t want anything to do with the likes of us cowhands.”

  A smile spread across Tramp’s face, and he chuckled. “None of you? Not one date?”

  Cookie’s shoulders relaxed as he laughed too. “She won’t have any of these knuckleheads. Of course, I haven’t tried, I’m sweet on Edith and all.”

  The rest of the men shuffled a bit then sat down at the large table in the middle of the room.

  Tramp put one foot up on a chair and leaned his arm on his knee. “I won’t poke my nose where it doesn’t belong. I’m desperate. I want my house and you have to admit Ilene is fine of face. I’m sorry I didn’t know. I’m sorry I put you on the spot, Rollo. So, how are the girls at Noreen’s saloon?” He relaxed as the men one by one grinned.

  “The girls are ripe as fresh fruit,” Speed remarked. “She even has a couple Mexican ladies that I like. Feels like home.”

  It was good to see Speed feeling like he belonged. The Mexicans owned Texas not too long ago, and now they were treated with disdain by some of the whites. Speed would be an asset to his horse breeding and training.

  “Speed sure sounds like some danged poet,” Dill remarked.

  Tramp nodded at the youngest of the bunch. Dill had been a new hire, right before Tramp had left. He seemed dependable enough. His walnut toned hair was now tied back, and his brown eyes didn’t have the look of wonder a young boy had anymore.

  “Well, I’m going to get some shut-eye. I have much to mull over tomorrow. The horses and who to get to marry Ilene.”

  Usually, eavesdropping wasn’t something she did but it couldn’t be helped. It was always better to know what the enemy was planning. There was no way she’d fall for one of Tramp’s schemes. Who did he think he was? Marrying her off, indeed. Clutching her shawl tighter against her body to ward off the cold, she walked as quietly as possible to her house.

  Once inside, she stood in the middle and turned in a slow circle, trying to memorize everything. He was going to rip it all away, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. She’d figure something out, probably. Her shoulders sagged at the thought of failure. Why couldn’t she be as strong as Shannon, or as nice as Addy, Keegan’s wife? Even Cecily was pretty, and she knew everything about farming. Ilene was just a poor girl from New York City with no frontier skills. She was learning, but she wouldn’t be able to fend for herself.

  After lighting a candle, she lifted the candleholder and walked into her room. She placed the candle on a table next to her bed. It threw such beautiful shadows, and she loved watching them. She got ready for bed and slid under the cover before blowing out the candle.

  Sleep eluded her and her mind kept wandering back to Tramp’s words about marriage, proposals and old maids. Marriage wasn’t for her. She’d rarely seen a happy one. Her mother often begged to go back to Ireland, but her Pa had a price on his head and could never return. Her father would remind her mother of the commitment they had both made to fight for Irish freedom. She’d known the risks.

  There was always a lot of talk between the men of what they’d done to further the cause and what still needed to be done. A few went back, but many were in her father’s shoes. The nights had always started out happy enough. She’d run down to the local tavern and get a pail of beer. It took a lot of practice to get the filled pail up the many stairs. She’d learned pretty fast out of necessity. Her pa’s big fist would hit the side of her head if she spilled a drop.

  Yes, the men were always jovial until the end of the night, after they drank all the beer. Pa always made her mother cry, and Ilene heard the cries of the other wives as well. No, she refused to live a life like that. Tramp wouldn’t change her mind. She’d find somewhere to live.

  The next morning, she put her pants on under her skirt, tucked her blouse in and pulled on her boots. She wasn’t in the mood to face Tramp, but she’d do it. She’d be making more money as a cowhand.

  Squinting against the morning sun she shielded her eyes with her hand. She always helped Shannon with breakfast. It had been a bit of a struggle to be allowed to help. Cookie thought the kitchen was his domain. But lately he'd been spending time with a widow in town. Edith owned the mercantile, and she and Cookie were as opposite as people could be. Since she rarely went to town, she didn't interact with Edith much but she knew Edith didn't like Shannon.

  The door to the main house was always open, and everyone was welcome. The smell of coffee filled the air and she couldn't wait for cup. It was usually her private time with Shannon, and Ilene needed her advice. Tramp certainly was behaving high-handed, thinking he could just pawn her off to one of the hands.

  Shannon glanced up and smiled. "So, how was your walk last night?" Laughter danced in her eyes.

  "Why? Did Tramp say anything about it?"

  Shannon shook her head. "No, I was just curious." She touched her scar, something she did often.

  Ilene hardly noticed it anymore but Shannon was very self-conscious of it. She refused to listen when people told her it didn't matter. Ilene shuddered at the memory of John Hardy and all she’d been saved from.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee and hesitated. She didn't want Shannon to think of her as an eavesdropper, but she needed to confide in someone. "I did hear the men talking last night. I guess Tramp is planning to marry me off. That's why he tried to get Rollo to take me for a walk. He thought we'd be a good match. He doesn't know a thing about me, but he's playing matchmaker. I just don't know. I mean he wants his house. Maybe I could find another
place to live."

  Shannon placed the skillet on the stove with greater force than necessary. "You're not going anywhere. You're an asset to this ranch. I did hear you're good with horses."

  Uncomfortable heat spread across Ilene's face. "You heard about that?"

  Shannon laughed. "I wish I'd been there. From what Cinders told me, you have quite a way with the horses. Did you really have pants on?"

  Smiling, Ilene nodded. "I figured no one would see me. It's much easier to ride without skirts being in the way." She lowered her voice. "I have them on under my skirt."

  Shannon's laughter grew louder.

  "What's so funny?" Tramp stood in the doorway, his wide shoulders filling it. He'd shaved, and his jawline was strong, he also had high cheekbones. Oh, he certainly was a handsome one.

  Shannon poured a cup of coffee and set it on the table for Tramp. "Just a little girl talk. Did you sleep well?"

  Ilene felt him watching her and when she looked up he arched a brow and stared at her. Why couldn't he be nice instead of a spoiled, scheming man.

  "Yes, I did," he answered without taking his gaze off Ilene. He turned one of the wooden chairs around and straddled it, taking sips of his coffee while she tried to cook.

  She turned her back to him, but she knew he still stared. The bacon started to burn and Shannon had to rescue it.

  "Better with horses than cooking? What have you been doing to earn your keep around here?"

  Ilene opened her mouth but closed it again. Her life was none of his business.

  "Ilene has been a tremendous help to me. She took over all the chores right before and after I gave birth. Speaking of, I hear Olivia stirring." She wiped her hands on a damp cloth and hurried away.

  "I know you make candles. What else?"

  "Why is it your business what I do?"

  "I'm a full partner in this ranch which means I own half of everything. It's my business." He shrugged his shoulder. "But if you don't want to tell me I'll find out anyway."

  Putting her hands on her hips, she shook her head. "Really you don't have to concern yourself with me."

  "Except when you two are training horses." Cinders' eyes were full of humor as he gazed at Ilene and then Tramp.

  A lump formed in her throat. “It’s a big ranch. We probably won’t run into each other often.” She turned away and sliced a loaf of bread. There was no way she’d work with that insufferable— Sharp pain struck her finger, stealing her breath. She had been so lost in thought she’d cut herself. “Ouch.” She turned and grabbed a cloth to staunch the bleeding.

  Tramp was quick to her side. “Here, let me see,” he said in an unusually gentle voice. He took her hand and looked under the cloth. “Did a good job on it, didn’t you? Come, let’s wash it under the water pump. Hopefully that will stop the bleeding.”

  She had already thought to do just that. Without a word she snatched her hand back and marched outside. Hearing his footsteps behind her she stiffened.

  “I’ll pump the water. Hold your hand under the stream.”

  A refusal hovered on the tip of her tongue, but he didn’t seem the type to go away. Ilene unwrapped the cloth from her hand, and then she held her hand under the cool water. She put pressure on the cut with her other hand. After a few minutes, the bleeding stopped. “It’s fine now.” She waited for him to stop pumping. “Thank you.”

  “I would have done it for anyone.”

  “Of course.” Funny, how he’d defined their relationship with those words. That was what she’d wanted. Now she was just anyone, and she had the feeling they’d be able to work together. Well, as long as he minded his own business. “I’d best get back to work.”

  She turned from him but she could feel the heat of his perusal. Did he know she wore pants under her skirt?

  Tramp wiped his damp forehead with his bandanna and then put his hat back on. He was used to long, hot days in a saddle, but Ilene didn’t seem to be faring too well. She had an all over limp look to her. Her shoulders slumped, half of her hair had fallen, and her shirt was plastered to her. In the last half hour, she’d turned an alarming shade of red.

  She was a spitfire for sure. Stubborn as the day was long. Worst of all she didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the sun. At least her horse had endurance. He didn’t see a canteen hanging from her saddle either.

  Cursing, he spurred Jack to go toward her. Her body stiffened when their gazes met. He smiled a great big smile. It seemed to bother her. When he caught up to her, she was actually redder than he’d first thought.

  She stopped Gold Dust, and the mare danced from side to side as she tried to hold her in position. Her giant frown had to be a big contrast to Tramp’s grin.

  “Did you even bring water with you?” Dang, his voice sounded gruffer than he meant.

  “There are plenty of streams and ponds around.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. Come on, I’m taking you home.” He stared at her, waiting for an answer.

  “You’re neither my mother, nor my father, and I don’t take kindly to orders. Besides, I was on my way to the north pond to cool off.”

  “There are plenty of watering holes closer to the house.”

  “Yes, but none with privacy. I go to the north pond because no one else does. I’ll look just fine when I’m done.” She nodded curtly and rode off.

  He held back a string of cuss words and followed her. She was planning to bathe, and he couldn’t let her go alone. Somehow he’d have to keep watch without her knowing. Life was fine until it involved a female.

  The fact that she didn’t turn around to check to see if she was followed had him shaking his head. She wouldn’t have spotted him, as he kept to the tree line, but still she should have checked. Did she even carry a gun? He didn’t see one, and he knew there wasn’t a rifle in the scabbard. Surely, she wasn’t that careless.

  He turned Jack and rode toward a shortcut to the pond. He wanted to scout it out before she got there. He should have gone in a different direction, but he’d been too curious about where she was headed. He spotted the pond and jumped down. Taking the reins, he quietly made his way toward it. He kept the trees between them for cover and finally found one to settle behind.

  The wait wasn’t long. Ilene rode her horse right up to the edge of the pond and slid down. Letting the reins dangle, she reached into the saddlebags and grabbed what looked to be clean clothes and some soap. He expected the horse to run but it didn’t. Gold Dust stayed right at the pond drinking water and looking around.

  Tramp scanned the area again and then turned his attention to Ilene. Dog gone it, she was undressing. He looked longer than was polite before he glanced in the other direction. He should probably turn his back but he didn’t want to move and give his position away.

  Hearing the ripple of water, he imagined her stepping into the cool water. It was hard not to think of her as naked but he wasn’t a saint. After a minute he looked at the pond. Ilene’s glorious hair cascaded down her back. She dunked her head and started to soap her hair. He watched her wash and rinse her dark mane.

  He turned from her again. If she found out… He sighed and closed his eyes. For some reason he longed to join her. He had to take one more peek. She was getting out of the water, her chemise plastered to her, outlining every curve. He gulped as the water ran off her body. His body reacted as if he was still a schoolboy, and he gritted his teeth.

  He was doing the exact thing he wanted to prevent; anyone seeing her. He’d sworn to himself to walk on the right side of things. Maybe he hadn’t changed one bit. Maybe he was still the not-so-loyal man who had crossed his best friend. No woman was worth it. He hung his head, remembering how he’d helped Cinders’ first wife, Charlotte, step out on him. Blinded by her beauty and promises, he’d covered for her while she met with the then local banker. It turned out to be all false, but it still killed him that he’d done such a lowdown thing.

  He’d thought he’d put
his guilt behind him but it was still surrounding him. He glanced in Ilene’s direction and heaved a sigh of relief. She was dressed and mounting up on Gold Dust. She was amazing. He would have thought she’d need to get on a rock or something to get on the big horse but she pulled herself up in one graceful move. He’d have Shannon talk to her about being safe out here.

  He was about to lean back against the tree when his horse whinnied to Gold Dust. His heart dropped when Ilene stared in his direction and saw him. It didn’t look good and he wasn’t sure there was any explanation that would hold water. He appeared to be spying on her and she didn’t look happy as she rode away.

  That low down, mangy, excuse for a man had watched her bathe. She felt filthier than before she went into the water. If this was part of his campaign to get her to leave he’d tangled with the wrong woman. No, she wasn’t going to let him get away with such disgusting behavior.

  She bet on her sweet mother’s grave that she wasn’t the first woman he’d scrutinized while she was undressed. Shannon needed to know. But as she pulled Gold Dust to a walk, she wondered if telling Shannon would be a good idea or not. Shannon and Cinders had a good relationship with Tramp. They’d welcomed him home with open arms. No, she needed to be smart about the whole thing. Things could backfire and she’d be the one asked to leave.

  Growing up, there hadn’t been much privacy but what little they had was respected. Her face grew warm. Tramp had probably seen more of her than anyone else. A shiver went through her body, and she frowned. She wasn’t cold or frightened. Was it because she wore pants so he thought her loose? It was hard to imagine Tramp and Cinders being such good friends. They were so different. Cinders was kind and polite.

  The barn came into sight, and Goldust went right to it. She swung out of the saddle and walked the horse inside the barn. Two of the men were saddling up. They turned toward her when she walked in but they quickly turned away. Her walk slowed. She’d tried so hard to let each man down gently, and was able to maintain friendships with them all. Tramp was the reason she got the cold shoulder. He’d probably told them one of them had to marry her. He’d invaded every part of her life.