by Bella Bowen
Suddenly, a dozen men were standing to each side of the old staircase and were eager to hand her down. One charged up the steps to offer a hand, and she thanked him demurely. Everyone else would suspect her blush was for him.
“Mrs. Carnegie?” A man with hat in hand approached after she reached the bottom of the steps and dropped her side skirt into place. “Will you... That is, are you planning on... Uh...”
“What he means to ask, ma’am,” said another man, “is if you’re going to be one of those uniquely western brides you was referrin’ to.”
“Yeah! Will you be putting yourself up on the block?”
Gen leveled them all with a fierce look they couldn’t possibly understand. At least not yet.
“There will be no block, gentlemen. There will be no bidding on anyone. Once the ladies arrive, they will be trained as I see fit. True gentlemen may apply to be considered. There will be a thorough examination of each gentleman’s background—his history, his prospects. And if they are deemed worthy, they may come and meet some of the ladies, if they can afford to. The bride price will be...high.” Gen looked around, pleased so many were paying attention. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be answering the same question again, since word would spread.
“So you’re selling them?” A petulant little man, still wearing his hat, stuck his thumbs in his armpits and gave Gen a sneer.
Some people didn’t want to be won over. And some she didn’t care to win. This man fit both bills.
“No, sir. I charge a price for my services, for bringing two like-minded individuals together for their mutual benefit.”
“Ain’tcha never heard of payin’ a matchmaker?” Another man laughed and gave the little man a shove, but that one stood his ground like he’d been shoved around before.
After proving his balance, the pinch eased immediately from the little man’s face. “Well, why didn’t ya say so afore?” He grabbed his hat and waved it over his head at the crowd milling at his back. “She’s a matchmaker!”
Gen laughed, realizing the man likely represented a large portion of the town who hadn’t understood what she was planning to do.
“Yes. I am. And a rancher who needs a wife who can act like a lady, raise a healthy family, and shoot supper if necessary, will be able to find that wife here in Sage River.
Blessedly, they all stood back when the carriage driver made a path for her. Once the little door was opened to the dark interior, Gen hurried toward her sanctuary, but Devlin stepped in her way.
“Come with me,” he said and reached for her arm. The driver’s arm shot out and laid a very sharp Bowie knife against his sleeve, and he wisely froze.
“Touching me has never been a good idea, Devlin. Remember?” Gen kept her voice low. She wished the crowd would disappear, but at the same time, she knew their presence meant her safety. But she doubted he’d changed so much on the inside that he posed a danger to her.
“The sheriff and I have some questions. We’ll talk in his office.” He narrowed his eyes at the driver. The Bowie knife never moved.
Gen shrugged. “As you and the sheriff have heard, there seems to be some emergency at my ranch. I’m sure he’ll understand if I go and check on things. Questions can wait.”
“Gen.” Devlin’s voice stayed low too, only it held a warning, and a familiarity that wasn’t lost on the crowd at her back.
“Please,” she said sweetly. “Call me Mrs. Carnegie.” Then she tilted her head and waited for him to move.
The driver’s knife directed her enemy to the side, and Gen was able to climb into the carriage. But she refused to allow the rest to imagine she’d run off like a frightened rabbit, so she uncovered the windows and smiled at the crowd. Few were looking her way. They were looking toward the driver’s seat.
It seemed they’d just realized that driver was a woman.
Wearing men’s clothing.
CHAPTER FOUR
Her arm ached all the way to the ranch, distracting her from her moment of glory. She couldn’t remember bumping into anything. It didn’t feel bruised. And no one had grabbed her...
She sighed and ordered herself not to even consider shedding a tear...when she realized her arm ached where Devlin Zollinger had almost touched her.
She resisted the image, but it came in any case.
The first time their eyes had met, seventeen years ago.
She’d been told of her visitors, a Mr. Zollinger and his brother, and entered the drawing room with all the grace of a queen. She’d prepared herself for every possibility. The wealthy man, who intended to start a ranch in the Wyoming territory, had come to court her. She needed him to believe she was a regal prize to be won. Her dowry was moderate, so the package had to distract him from that fact.
At least that had been the plan.
Then she had been introduced to the man closest. She’d intended to remain aloof and mysterious, but then their eyes had met—and held. And beneath her skin, she’d transformed into something completely new. This wasn’t a cowboy who planned to tame the West. He was simply a man who could easily tame her heart. And he’d already half-succeeded, though all they’d exchanged were greetings.
Then her frowning uncle had come forward to introduce the other guest—the man who was there to court her—the man’s brother, David.
She’d turned to play the rehearsed role with her real suitor and tried to hide her disappointment. Tried to hide the fact that her heart had been brought to life and broken in the span of a minute. But David missed nothing, and from that moment, he was unable to trust her.
She’d asked him later why he’d bothered marrying her. He’d claimed that plans had been far too advanced at that point and he wasn’t about to be made a fool. But it was a lie. There had been no plans, only a meeting with her uncle over a game of cards.
David was never a man to buy a herd of cattle without taking a good look at it; he wasn’t about to commit his life to a wife he’d never seen. And if she hadn’t suited him somehow, he wouldn’t have offered for her. So something must have pleased him about her. And it was that thought that gave her a bit of peace when her uncle forced her to accept David’s proposal.
Something must have pleased him.
She watched David for years wondering what pleased him about any animal he purchased, but told herself he didn’t see her that way. After all, he hadn’t asked to have a look at her teeth.
But eventually she’d realized the only thing he expected from her was to not embarrass him when he put her on display.
“Here are my prize-winning bulls. My thoroughbred horses. My thoroughbred wife. Ties to the Queen of England, you know. Only the best.”
It was true, she did have ties to Queen Victoria, if one could call being presented to Her Majesty the same thing as a tie. But that tie hadn’t done anything for her dowry, so she’d had to hope for a husband that didn’t need her money.
If only she’d been introduced to David first, she was confident she would have had the same reaction she’d shared with his brother. Her heart was like a box, and Devlin had opened that box by mistake. It wasn’t her fault her heart laid eyes on him first. Why hadn’t David stepped forward from the beginning?
But it had been too late. Too late for her to take back the look they’d shared, along with a dozen happy breaths. Too late to hide her disappointment when there had been nothing, truly, to be disappointed about. David was a striking man. More mature than the brother. Bold in his carriage. Inspiring in his deportment. Quick of wit and sharp of eye.
If only his vision hadn’t been so blasted sharp!
David had smiled at her, kissed her hand. She’d tried to gather her wits while he’d bent over that hand, but he’d straightened too fast. She hadn’t corrected her features quickly enough. And he’d given her the first of many disappointed looks. A little message in his eyes that said, “Too late. I caught you. I know. And I will never forget.”
And he never did.
No matter what she’d done,
no matter how she’d tried, he’d never forgiven her for that moment.
She’d been a brilliant wife, of course. She’d been raised to be a brilliant wife. But she’d also tried every minute of their marriage to make that moment up to him. When he’d announced that they’d be moving to the Wyoming territory, she’d never balked. She’d learned to shoot to please him. In the company of others, she was the very picture of a perfect companion. Careful never to inspire too much admiration, she avoided meeting the eye of any man if not in a public place. Sharing a laugh with friends, she’d glance quickly away if a man tried to look too long at her face. And if approached, she’d pretend to be oblivious of any interest.
And she never, ever, looked at his brother.
And because she never looked at his brother, David had assumed she was guilty. She only wished she’d known it sooner.
A month before his accident, she’d stumbled upon his personal journal, quite on accident. She’d been looking for something to read. Her own little library had bored her, and Devlin had mentioned finding some fine things to entertain her in David’s study. Her husband had gone to Denver for a few days, and she was always at a loss when he was not on the ranch. And since the best pastime she’d found was reading, she went looking for something new.
There were plenty of shelves about the room packed with all variety of spines, so there was little reason for her to be snooping through the books on his desk. Those would be filled with business details. Nothing suitable unless one needed help falling asleep, perhaps. But there was a little blue leather volume that looked shiny and new. A journal. And if there was no writing inside, she might have started writing in it herself.
But there was writing. David’s writing.
There were only a few pages filled, as if this were only the latest volume of many others.
I’m going to Denver tomorrow. She’s been sad lately and I at least hope that giving her some time alone with her lover will cheer her. Three days. That is all I can stomach. And when I return, I will pretend that I don’t know. And she will pretend that she’s done nothing wrong. And Devlin will secretly seethe at me for coming back. I only wonder how long it will be before I suffer some accident at his hands.
The rest of the pages contained details of the business he planned to conduct. She’d cast the book across the room as if it had been a blade she’d just pulled from her own chest.
He thought she was unfaithful. With Devlin—a man who left the ranch each and every time her husband did, knowing that she would not speak to him without David in the room. It made it easier that way. She’d never thanked him for the consideration. Perhaps she should have. If she’d have been more charitable toward him perhaps he wouldn’t have done what he had.
And she wouldn’t hate him now.
She seethed in silence until the arch came into view. A wide opening between two hills was graced by the trunks of three monster pine trees. One on each side. One across the top. A large wrought iron plaque hung from the center, far too high to be clearly read unless one moved back into the opposite field. A smaller plaque, on each pillar, said the same.
Diamond Springs Ranch est. 1833.
They’d found silver in the springs, but told no one. They couldn’t name the place Silver Springs without drawing the interest of prospectors. They’d kept their secret between the three of them even after the springs were emptied of their treasure. The rest of the area chalked up the ranch’s success to David’s management of it. And that little secret bound them all together. David didn’t want Dev to leave because he was afraid his brother would slip and tell the wrong person. If he stayed, he’d always be mindful why the secret needed keeping.
Gen had seen the arch from the high road when she’d first arrived in Sage River, but it had hurt too much to look at it directly. Now that it was hers, that the entire spread was hers, she could look her fill. And if everything went as planned, Devlin would never step foot beneath that arch again.
She would bide her time and play her game, until she could prove he’d killed David.
“And then what?” asked a voice in her head.
And then she’d be free of him.
She’d go on helping young women be better prepared for their husbands. Arranged marriages like those she proposed came with low expectations. And low expectations minimalized the chances of having one’s heart broken.
She couldn’t help everyone—no matter how much money one has, that was never possible. But she would help as many as she could. She’d make certain they could defend themselves against Indians, animals, and even their husbands when necessary. And they would be able to do something she’d never been capable of—making their husbands want them.
She’d learned many things from Bartie Carnegie, bless his soul. She only wished she’d known them sooner. And the brides that came from her ranch, and the husbands who won their favor, would have a much less complicated life than hers had been.
The Bride School at Diamond Springs Ranch would earn a reputation in no time. And in a year, she expected to be beating men away from that gate with a very large frying pan.
CHAPTER FIVE
Dev sat in the sheriff’s office with his head in his hands. His foreman were waiting in the saloon for him to tell them what they were going to do now that others were doing their work. The rest of his ranch hands, even those who’d been with him for a good long while, had gathered their things and lit out as soon as the army of women arrived. Like they’d been bought off.
He didn’t want to think about how much money she’d paid them to just up and leave a place they’d lived for five years or so. Some of them had needed to take their families along. So their women probably knew ahead of time.
Women!
Women?
How the devil did she find women who could work a ranch?
In the years she’d been married to his brother, Gen hadn’t spent much time outside the fancy house David had built to impress her. A dollhouse for a doll he never touched. And now she thought to run the place on her own? Without men?
The details of her little coup would come out a little more honest and accurate after his men had a few drinks under their belts. But since he wanted to hear those details before the rest of the town, he sent Toller to fetch his men to him. The jail cells were empty; they could hold all his ranch hands while they confessed how they’d allowed women to take their jobs away. And perhaps the cold steel bars around them would prod that confession along.
Sheriff Toller was on his side, as he should be, but the lawman had little knowledge of the law, and he didn’t have the first idea of how to run the women off. Legally. And Dev intended to keep things as legal as possible.
He’d pulled Mrs. Willot aside and asked what Gen was up to. The woman only said they’d discussed some work for her and her husband, and that she was to keep things secret until they were announced that day. But she’d added that she expected a few of Mrs. Carnegie’s lawyers to show up in a few days—which told Dev that Gen had more than just one lawyer. And they were headed to town.
So what he needed to do was produce his own lawyer, make sure he was sober, and then dig out that will he’d hidden from Gen for her own good. She was a grown woman now. She could handle the truth.
And if she couldn’t handle it, she was going to hear it anyway.
The usurper of his ranch had no idea the sacrifice he’d made for her. He’d risked everything to make sure she had enough for a fine new start in life. And he’d taken on that ranch and nearly worked himself into the ground to keep his brother’s legacy alive.
But he had to admit, in his most private thoughts, that it was almost a relief not to have to worry about the place for a day. Whatever damage was done by the time he took it back, they’d just have to deal with. But after ten years, it was hard to ignore the worry in his blood.
She’d missed calving season, thankfully. At least no animals would die from her foolishness. But that didn’t mean he’d be able to res
t easy on this forced little holiday.
He had to get back to the house. He had to get back inside. He had to get his hands on those blasted journals.
Before she did.
~ ~ ~
The house looked tired. The cracks in the paint looked like wrinkles on an aging face. But the yard was well kept, like David liked it. The fountain still worked, the flowers around it bloomed. And the drive was clear of weeds and mud holes.
Her eyes went to the study window out of habit. Whenever she’d left the place, whether to Denver or just into town, she’d always see the curtain move in that window and known that David had been standing there watching for her.
At least, she always hoped it was David.
But the white fabric panels hung straight and undisturbed. He wasn’t watching. He wasn’t even there. He was up on the south hill, under the green ash tree.
A dozen women emerged from various buildings and waited for her to alight. She gave them a smile, and then a shake of her head before she walked around the carriage and headed for the hill. Everything else would have to wait. She had to let David know she had come back.
~ ~ ~
The next morning, the sheriff arrived at the gate with Mrs. Willot. The guards stopped him from entering as planned, and then Mrs. Willot came to the house to let Gen know.
The woman giggled. “I declare, I haven’t enjoyed myself so much at Peter Toller’s expense for quite some time.” Then she laughed outright. “I tried to warn him they wouldn’t let him in, that there was a policy of no men allowed, but he wouldn’t believe me.”
Gen thanked her and left her to sort out the accounting books while she went to meet with the man. She had Winnie drive her in an open carriage and park outside the gate so Toller could join her without actually stepping foot on the ranch.
“I’m so sorry to inconvenience you, Sheriff Toller,” she said while batting her lashes. “But if I keep to my guns now, so to speak, no one will expect me to break the rules for anyone else. And with a house full of women, surely you understand why such a rule needs to be enforced.”
