A Rancher for Rosie

by Molly Ann Wishlade

  Table of Contents

  Legal Page

  Title Page

  Book Description

  Dedication

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  New Excerpt

  About the Author

  Publisher Page

  A Rancher for Rosie

  ISBN # 978-1-78430-653-3

  ©Copyright Molly Ann Wishlade 2015

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright July 2015

  Edited by Sue Meadows

  Totally Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

  Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Simmering and a Sexometer of 2.

  The Duggans of Montana

  A RANCHER FOR ROSIE

  Molly Ann Wishlade

  Book two in The Duggans of Montana series

  There’s only one rancher for Rosie Duggan, but the course of true love never did run smooth.

  It is springtime, 1871, and Rosie Duggan is in love with Joshua Hampton, a handsome rancher’s son. Joshua is seven years her junior, but they have fallen hard and hope to marry.

  Joshua’s parents have other ideas. Firstly, they believe that Rosie is too old for their son. Secondly, they do not want Joshua marrying into the Duggan family. They believe that the Duggans are tainted by their association with Catherine Montgomery and her mysterious past.

  Rosie only wants the best for everyone she loves, so she makes several difficult decisions, preparing to sacrifice her own happiness to protect those around her.

  But sometimes the people we love are prepared to make sacrifices, too, so Rosie could well find the happiness she craves with her gorgeous rancher.

  Dedication

  For my own family, who are my world.

  XXX

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

  Chapter One

  “Oh Rosie…it hurts so much.”

  Catherine’s clenched teeth and ashen face made Rosie’s stomach churn. She had never helped a woman in labor before and she didn’t have any personal experience to draw upon.

  Though at my age a woman would hope to have delivered a few babes of her own.

  She shook her head. No sense dwelling on that now. She had a job to do. She had to help her sister-in-law through this.

  “Rosie, I’m certain it’s too soon. I thought the little one wasn’t due until April.”

  Rosie placed a hand on Catherine’s shoulder. “I’m sure it will be fine. The whore I spoke with in town told me that sometimes a woman can get her dates muddled and sometimes a babe is ready earlier than expected.”

  Rosie’s cheeks grew hot as Catherine stared hard at her. Catherine was no fool, and Rosie knew that her twin brother’s wife could see right through her attempts at reassurance. But Rosie could also sense Catherine’s desire to be comforted and her need to be supported in the absence of her husband or a more qualified birthing partner.

  Right now, Rosie was all Catherine had.

  Poor girl!

  Rosie fluttered like a nervous butterfly as Catherine shuffled around the small homestead. Catherine had stripped down to her shift as her body had overheated with the pains that had increased in intensity by the hour. At intervals, she grabbed the nearest piece of furniture and held on tightly as she rode the waves that shook her petite frame. Rosie trembled along with Catherine as the laboring woman’s knuckles grew white with the force of her grip on table edge or bench. The color only returned to Catherine’s skin when the agony receded. But Rosie had learned quickly that the routine would begin all over again. Soon. And she could do nothing to help.

  She longed to rush out to the stable, saddle a horse and gallop straight into town to find Matthew but she feared leaving Catherine alone. What if something happened while she was gone? But what if something happens while you tarry here afraid?

  Oh, Matthew, hurry up with help!

  And, Joshua, please bring Kenan home soon.

  Joshua—sweet, handsome Joshua Hampton, who had the power to lift Rosie’s heart up to the clouds. Just the thought of his handsome face with its bright blue eyes and full, sensual mouth made her heart beat faster. The thought of running her hands though his thick, sandy blond hair as he pressed his lips to hers made her body tighten in a way she had never experienced before their first embrace. He made Rosie feel beautiful, desirable and safe. And she wished with all of her heart that he was here.

  “Come now, Catherine. Why don’t you lie down? This could take a while and you should rest. You need to save your strength.”

  Catherine nodded and waddled toward the rear of the house. She opened the door that led to a short corridor and four bedrooms then went into her own. Rosie helped her to climb onto the bed and tucked the blankets around her.

  “Try to sleep now, Catherine.”

  Catherine eased herself out of the blankets. “I’m too warm to lie beneath these and I doubt that the pains will allow me to sleep, Rosie.”

  “I know, dear heart, but you must try. At least rest between them. I’m sure that Matthew will be back soon.”

  Catherine offered a wan smile before closing her eyes and sinking into the feather-stuffed pillow.

  Rosie paused for a moment, wondering whether to take the chair in the corner of the room. But she realized that her presence might disturb Catherine, so she decided she would leave the doors ajar and listen instead. She tiptoed out of the room and headed back into the kitchen area, where she slumped into a fireside chair.

  Matthew had headed out at first light when it seemed that the pains afflicting Catherine were not false signs of labor—as they had hoped—but real ones. It was now almost four in the afternoon. Where is he? Rosie’s shoulders ached with tension, her head hurt from worrying and her heart ached for another reason.

  She leaned forward and rested her forehead on her arms.

  Will Joshua ever ask me to marry him?

  It had been months since he had first shown an interest in her. Months since she had been stunned by his attention—attention that went beyond that of good manners toward the sister of a friend. At first, Joshua had been extremely shy. Painfully so. Considerin
g how handsome he was and the fact that he exuded raw masculinity, his shyness had endeared him to Rosie even more. She had wondered initially if he saw her only as Kenan’s sister, as a woman too old to consider romantically, and had treated him kindly as she would any family friend. But gradually, his awkwardness around her had eased and they had become friends, talking for hours about the people they knew and the places he had seen during his time on the cattle trails.

  They had kissed and shared several more intimate moments. Joshua had whispered promises of what he would soon say and do, of how happy they would be. After all, what was the appropriate time for a courtship? She knew Joshua’s reasons for his delay in actually proposing, and they were sensible enough. Respectable enough. Joshua had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders and he couldn’t just up and leave the family business. He also wanted to be able to provide for Rosie himself, not just offer her all that he possessed as the son of a successful rancher. So he was saving his wages from his time on the cattle trail in order to build them a home of their own. She should’ve been glad that he was not impetuous and carried away on a wave of passion that could have ruined them both. But it didn’t extinguish the flames of her desire for him, and it didn’t help her to curb her own impatience which reared its ugly, vulnerable head during the darkest hours of the night.

  Mayhap she was a fool to be ruled by her heart and her desire. She had seen Kenan’s brow furrow several times when Joshua had stayed for supper, as if he was trying to work out exactly what Joshua wanted from Rosie. But Kenan also held Joshua in high esteem. Surely, if he doubted him for a second, he would put an immediate stop to his visits to the Duggan homestead? So she should continue to show trust. To believe. To wait.

  What else could a woman do?

  She sat up and shrugged. Here she was fretting over a man when her poor sister-in-law was about to deliver the first baby the old homestead had seen in over twenty years. What a gift this child would be. A new generation. A new hope. A new start for Catherine and Kenan.

  And a painfully stark reminder of Rosie’s own childless state.

  * * * *

  “Rosie!”

  The cry pierced through the fog in Rosie’s mind.

  “Rosie…please…”

  Again.

  Rosie lifted her head from her arms. Shadows loomed in the homestead with the onset of evening. The corners of the room were filled with darkness and she shivered with the fleeting memory of an unpleasant dream. She had fallen asleep. For how long?

  She rubbed her eyes then stood.

  “Catherine?”

  No answer. Her voice seemed to be swallowed by the eerie emptiness of the homestead. Without her brothers, it was as hollow as an abandoned mineshaft. She rubbed her upper arms briskly.

  “I’m coming, Catherine.” She held her breath but there was still no reply.

  Something is wrong…

  She hurried through to Catherine’s bedroom and nearly dropped to the floor at the sight that greeted her.

  Catherine was hunched over on the bed, her long hair damp and matted as it clung to her face. She rocked from side to side and moaned like a wounded animal. Her thin shift was no longer pure white but stained dark in places. In the fading light, Rosie could just make out that the stain was red. As were Catherine’s hands and the bed sheet, and there was even a red pool on the floor.

  “Dear Lord in heaven, Catherine!” Rosie’s hands shook as she reached out to her sister-in-law and took hold of her shoulders. “How long have you been like this?”

  “I…I woke up…about half an hour since…the pain is so bad now, Rosie. I’m so scared.”

  Rosie looked into Catherine’s eyes and saw terror and despair. Catherine needed her right now. Though Rosie was overwhelmed by an urge to run from the room, screaming about the blood and the pain and the sweat and the unknown—she could not. She owed it to the woman she now held to her breast, to her brother whom she loved with a fierce devotion and to the tiny baby not yet born. She had to give them a fighting chance.

  She took a kerosene lamp from its hook on the wall and lit it then hung it back up. It cast a yellow circle of light over the bed and the floor. It made her feel a bit better. Ridiculous, perhaps. But it banished the gathering shadows to the corners and lifted her spirits.

  “Right, Catherine, let’s get you cleaned up then I can see better how far along you are.”

  How far along? How the hell would you know?

  Rosie filled the white china bowl on the dresser with fresh water from the matching jug and dipped a cloth into it. She had prepared a pile of rags and left them in Catherine’s room in readiness. She wrung the cloth then took it over to Catherine. She wiped her hot cheeks, cleansed the blood from her hands then did the same to her feet. So much blood. And there was another fluid, some sort of murky water that poured from Catherine’s insides like a flash flood every time she endured another contraction of her womb.

  Did women really do this every day?

  The whore she had consulted told her that they did. Lucky women had female relatives to consult when they went into labor, experienced women who could offer advice and support. Poor Catherine did not. She had Rosie. And as Rosie had known next to nothing about giving birth, she had been forced to seek out a soiled dove to question. The whore had tried to reassure Rosie that all would be well if she just kept Catherine calm, but now that it was actually happening, Rosie wasn’t convinced. The pains that Catherine had endured seemed to be getting worse. The whore had also warned her that sometimes the bag holding the baby might burst, which explained the amount of fluid that Catherine was losing, but Rosie hadn’t expected there to be so much. The bed was drenched and Rosie’s waters dripped from the covers onto the wooden floorboards where it created an ever widening circle.

  She needed to get Catherine out of her wet clothes and to dress the bed with fresh linen then try to clean the floor. At least she could do that.

  “Can you stand, Catherine?”

  “I…I’m not sure. Every time I move, the pains come.” She gave a wry laugh. “Even when I don’t move, they come.”

  Rosie wrapped an arm around Catherine’s shoulder.

  “I’ll help you up and we’ll take it slowly. Squeeze my hand if you need to.”

  Catherine’s jaw tightened and Rosie realized that she was gritting her teeth. Poor girl. Though Catherine was but a few years her junior, Rosie felt protective of her. Catherine had been through a lot before she’d finally become Mrs. Duggan, and although Rosie didn’t know the whole story, the scars on Catherine’s arms told her enough. Catherine knew what it was to suffer, to be torn from the man she loved, and she deserved to be happy now.

  Rosie braced herself as Catherine edged off the bed and hobbled to the chair in the corner of the room.

  When Catherine was seated, Rosie hurriedly stripped the bed and tossed the soiled sheets aside. Luckily, the patchwork coverlet and cotton sheet had caught the worst of the fluids and the burlap ticking mattress was still dry underneath. She grabbed clean linen from the chest at the bottom of the bed and breathed deeply of the lavender fragrance. Soothing. Familiar. Safe. As always, the fresh scent brought a flood of memories of childhood, and images of her own dear mother. The older Mrs. Duggan would have known what to do. Rosie blinked away hot tears.

  If only Mother was here. But she’s not, so you need to be strong.

  She tucked the sheet in at the corners then turned back to Catherine.

  “Now for your shift.”

  Catherine lifted her arms and Rosie tugged the damp garment over her head. She swallowed a gasp at the sight of Catherine’s naked body. It was remarkable. Swollen with child, she appeared full, fertile, female. Beautiful. As Rosie watched, Catherine gripped the seat of the chair and began to breathe heavily. Her belly seemed to tighten to a point at her protruding navel as she gulped for air. Just when it seemed that Catherine might actually burst and the babe come tumbling from her body, her panting slowed and her abdomen relax
ed and returned to its former smooth roundness.

  The pains were working their ancient, womanly magic and Rosie wondered if she would ever feel their power. Ever feel a child quicken in her own womb.

  She dunked a clean cloth into the basin and washed Catherine quickly, before another pain set in. When she was happy that her sister-in-law was thoroughly cleansed, she pulled a clean shift from a dresser drawer and helped Catherine into it.

  “Now back to bed with you.”

  Catherine nodded and allowed Rosie to help her.

  “I’m real scared, Rosie. What if Kenan doesn’t make it back and something goes wrong. What if I can’t do this and I lose the babe?”

  Rosie shook her head. “Nonsense, sweetheart. You can and will do this. It’s not called labor for nothing, ya know. Hardest day’s work of your life…so they say.”

  Catherine blanched and Rosie took her hands. It broke her heart to feel Catherine tremble with the effort of riding the agonizing waves. She would take the pain for her if she could. That was how much she cared for Catherine and her brother.

  It was time to do what she had been dreading. To assess how far along Catherine was. The soiled dove had shown her how to feel inside a woman to check if the neck of the womb was open and ready to release the babe into the world. She had said that when the leg trembling began, it was a sign that the child was making its way out. But if this happened before the way was ready…then complications could follow.

  “Lie back, Catherine. I need to see if you’re ready to deliver.”

  “I think I feel like pushing, Rosie. I think…but I’m not sure… I’m so tired.”

  Rosie smoothed Catherine’s red hair back from her forehead and smiled. “Well, let’s see, shall we?”