A Cattleman for Cora
Kansas Cowboys Book Four
by Amelia C. Adams
With thanks to my beta readers—Barbara, Bonnie, Cindy, Dorothy, Joseph, Mary, Renee G., Renee L., Robin, Sandy, Shelby, Suzy, Teresa, and Theresa.
Cover design by Virginia McKevitt
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Don’t miss the previous books in the Kansas Cowboys series:
A Wrangler for Wynonna
A Handyman for Helen
A Rancher for Rowena
Table of Contents
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 One
The Lazy Q Ranch
Just north of Topeka, Kansas
1877
Tenny Lawless stood in the doorway of the bunkhouse, pulling his suspenders over his shoulders. “I reckon it’s almost breakfast time,” he said casually, as though it was just the same as any other breakfast time there had ever been.
“Breakfast time on a Monday morning,” Benedict said thoughtfully. “Why, that must make it nigh onto six o’clock.”
“And six isn’t that far off from seven or eight,” Frisco added. “Wasn’t there something goin’ to happen on Monday morning at eight?”
Benedict scratched his chin. “Sounds familiar, but I can’t place it right off.”
“All right, all right, go ahead and tease me,” Tenny said, shaking his head. “Get it out of your systems. Nothin’ I can do to stop you anyway.”
“Nope, not a thing.” Abel slipped past him on the way outside. “A man can’t announce to a whole room full of people that he’s going to start courting someone on Monday morning and escape everyone’s attention after that.”
“Although it was a gallant gesture, and I’m sure it made the ladies swoon,” Jack said with a wink, clapping Tenny on the shoulder as he too slipped past to go outside.
“Makin’ the ladies swoon,” Tenny mumbled under his breath. He hadn’t meant to make anyone swoon. He’d only wanted to put an end to the speculation as to his intentions regarding Miss Cora Whitmer, and announcing it to the group at large seemed the most efficient way. Truth be told, he’d also been caught up in the romantic atmosphere of the moment, but he wasn’t about to admit to any such thing. With the exceptions of Jack, Zeke, and Billy—and of course, Old Sully—romance was considered something to be avoided like foot fungus.
“This is your fault, old man,” Tenny said, pointing a finger at the wrinkled cowboy sitting next to the stove. “If you hadn’t filled our heads with all that talk of women and marriage, I’d be perfectly happy right now, takin’ care of the cows and pitchin’ alfalfa.”
“You don’t know what ‘perfectly happy’ means,” Sully retorted. “I never saw such a sorry bunch as you all before those women came to the ranch. You never even cared if you changed your shirts more often than the new moon. Now you’ve at least got some self-respect, and that’s been a mighty nice thing to see.”
“Just got tired of them women yammering about our laundry,” Drew said as he pulled on his boots.
“And as soon as you started cooperatin’, they stopped yammerin’, didn’t they?” Sully nodded. “You bet they did.”
“They just found something else to yammer about.” Drew stood up and stamped a few times to settle his feet into place. “All I can say is, I’m glad I didn’t sign up for your little scheme, Sully. Mail-order brides? More like, inviting the hand of death to visit the Lazy Q.”
Sully watched the boy’s retreating back and shook his head. “He don’t know what he’s missin’. You and Miss Cora, though—you’ve got a real chance of makin’ this thing work.”
Tenny was secretly pleased to hear that, but he didn’t let it show on his face. “Oh? What makes you say that?”
Sully scratched his chin. “Well, seems to me that sometimes the Good Lord likes putting opposite things together to balance each other out. Miss Cora’s meek and mild, and you’re rough and ready. Might teach each other a thing or two.”
Tenny nodded. Cora’s quiet demeanor had been one of the first things that drew him to her. He’d grown up in a boarding house—his widowed mother was the proprietress, and her voice carried up all three flights of stairs to call everyone for meals. She was a good woman, but often harsh, and the idea of a softer wife appealed to Tenny quite a bit. Of course, when they first met, her squeamishness had rubbed him the wrong way, and it had taken him a while to appreciate the fact that she was timid. Funny how time could change a person’s thinking like that.
“Well, I have to do more than announce I want to court her if I want to win her,” he said. “Suppose we should find out if we actually get along.”
“That’s always a helpful thing to know.” Sully squinted at him. “You seem a mite nervous.”
“Me?” Tenny chuckled. “Why would I be nervous?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Sully turned his attention back to his whittling for a moment. “You’re the fella here who can calm a panicked cow out of startin’ a full-on stampede. I don’t know what you’d have to be nervous about.”
Tenny shook his head with a grin. He’d never talked a cow out of a stampede—Sully was just telling his tall tales again—but the man did have a point. If Tenny was good at anything, it was bringing heated situations down to a simmer before they boiled, but now he was the one with bubbles starting to rise to the surface.
“Well, I suspect that breakfast bell’s gonna ring any minute. We’d best head off to the dining room so we don’t miss out on griddle cakes.” Sully hoisted himself to his feet and tucked his carving back into his pocket. “You might find yourself some inspiration from General Wallace as he pondered how to approach the lovely Lady Julia at the governor’s ball.”
“Who? And who?”
Sully patted his other pocket. “You see, he was all set to marry Lady Violet, but she died when pneumonia swept through the town, killing all the gentry. It was the way they all stayed cooped up in their parlors, see—no fresh air.”
Tenny rolled his eyes. “Have you got a new book, Sully?”
The old man patted his pocket again. “You bet I do, and this one’s a real doozy. I’m only on page ten and there’s already been one sword fight.” He shook his head. “’Course, it wasn’t much of a fight—Mr. Lawrence just sort of toppled over after the first strike, so it’s a good thing he wasn’t supposed to be the hero after all. I like fights to last a good two pages at least—gotta have enough there to sink your teeth into. But as for the general . . .”
Tenny let the man prattle all the way to the dining room. He didn’t have any use for generals or ladies or sword fights—even ones that did last more than two pages. He’d leave that sort of thing up to Sully. He had breakfast to eat, cows to tend . . . and at eight o’clock, a courtship to begin.
Chapter Two
Cora Whitmer startled when she heard a noise outside the kitchen. She paused, listening, but didn’t hear anything else, so she finished drying the plate she was holding and reached for the next one.
“Are you all right, Cora?” Helen asked from her place at the washbasin. “You seem a little on edge.”
“I’m fine,” Cora replied. “I’m just . . . a little on edge.”
“Yes, that’s what I said.” Helen sounded amused. “You know, I just realized something. It’s Monday morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Cora said, her cheeks i
nstantly growing hot.
“Around eight, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You’re not mistaken.”
“Hmmm.” Helen tapped her chin with a soapy finger. “I wonder what could be making you so jumpy at eight o’clock on a Monday. . .”
“You know full well.” Cora placed that dish on the shelf too, then turned to her friend. “Why did I tell Tenny we could start courting? I’m not even sure I like him!”
“That’s only because you don’t know him very well yet. I’ve spoken with him several times, and I like him quite a bit.”
“Then you step out with him!”
Helen laughed. “I’m not sure what Zeke would think about that.”
“About what?” Fiona said, entering the kitchen with her apron full of potatoes.
“Cora thinks I should start seeing Tenny. To take her place, you see.” Helen grinned.
“Ah.” Fiona shook her head, a wry smile on her face. “This is why I’ve decided not to get married. Each and every one of you has had a fit of the vapors trying to figure out your romantic lives while I’ve been able to remain perfectly calm and reasonable. It’s not worth trading in your common sense.”
“You say that now . . .” Helen began.
“And I’ll always say it. I value having a head on my shoulders and a brain in that head, and I can’t think of anything that could induce me to give them up.”
Cora accepted the next plate from Helen, but jumped when she heard a distinctive man’s voice in the dining room. The plate flew out of her hands and shattered all over the floor.
“Oh, Fiona, I’m sorry.” She squatted down to gather up the pieces. “That was so clumsy of me.”
“Is everythin’ all right? I heard a crash.”
Cora froze. She ducked her head, hoping to escape notice. Maybe Tenny wouldn’t see her if she stayed on the floor. Her hands trembled, and the shard she’d just picked up sliced her finger.
“Oh, Miss Cora! You’re bleedin’.”
She looked down at her hands. A trickle of red ran toward her palm, but she didn’t feel any pain. It was likely one of those wounds that looked a lot worse than it actually was.
“I’m sure I’m fine,” she said, coming to her feet and reaching for a clean dish towel.
Before she could grab it, though, Tenny had already picked it up. He snatched her hand and held it to the light, then wrapped the towel around it. She flinched, expecting his touch to be rough, but she was surprised at how gentle it turned out to be, and she relaxed as he tucked the ends of fabric under the folds. Well, perhaps she didn’t relax entirely. She was all too aware of the pine tree scent of his soap and his measured breath as he concentrated on what he was doing.
“There now,” he said, letting go of her hand and taking a step back. “You’ll want a proper bandage on there before too much longer, but that’ll keep you from bleedin’ on Miss Fiona’s clean floor.”
He glanced over at Fiona with a smile, and Cora blinked. She’d forgotten they weren’t the only two people in the room. What sort of spell was he working on her?
“I appreciate that, Tenny,” Fiona said with a smirk. “Nothing annoys me more than people dripping blood in my kitchen.”
“I figured as much.” He gave her a nod, then turned back to Cora. “You feelin’ all right?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“If you’re up to it, I’d like to invite you to take a ride with me. I’ve got a wagon here by the door, and I thought we might head out and see the far pasture. Give you an idea of what I do here on the ranch.”
Cora glanced at Fiona, panicked. “I’m not sure I’m free to go just yet,” she stammered. Realizing just how much she actually was attracted to Tenny terrified her. She’d never had a beau, and she wasn’t used to standing so close to a man, let alone holding hands with him. All right, he’d been bandaging a cut, but still, he’d held her hand, and that was a new experience for her. Any excuse would do. “Didn’t Rowena and Margaret want my help up at the house?”
Fiona shook her head. “All they’re doing is moving some things around to make room for a dresser for the baby. Wade’s doing the hard work for them.”
“But . . . what about lunch? Don’t you need my help making lunch?”
“The bread’s already in the oven, and I’m just peeling potatoes. Go on—have a good time.”
Cora grimaced. Did Fiona realize she was sending her into the lion’s den, or did she think she was doing Cora a favor? Either way, there was no getting out of it now, and she wiped her expression clean before turning back to Tenny. “That would be nice,” she managed. “I’ll get my hat.”
She collected it from a peg near the back door, taking her time to put it on and arrange the ribbons just so. But then she couldn’t delay any longer, and she turned to face Tenny with another smile. “Let’s go.”
He held his arm toward the side door in a sweeping gesture, and she gave him a nod as she walked that direction. Helen was trying to hide a smile, and Cora wanted to sink down into the floor and disappear. She’d been hoping that Tenny would forget all about it—that Monday morning would come around and he’d be so busy that he wouldn’t have time to pay her a call. She shouldn’t have entertained those thoughts, though. Of all the men on the ranch, Tenny seemed the most bull-headed about the things he wanted, and if he’d decided he wanted her, well, she knew she was up for quite an adventure.
Almost as though he was standing right next to her, Cora heard her father’s voice. “Bull-headed just means focused,” he said. “Men like that built this country.”
She shook her head, knowing she was just imagining things. Being bull-headed wasn’t always a bad trait. It’s just that in this instance, where the heart was involved, she’d prefer to take things slower.
Then she realized the irony of her thoughts—she was calling Tenny, one of the cattlemen, bull-headed. Gracious. She grinned at her unintentional joke. Maybe, after they knew each other better, she’d share it with him. She didn’t think he’d appreciate being called that on their first official outing.
The wagon Tenny had brought was one of the smaller ones, pulled by just one horse.
A horse.
She froze where she was, unable to take another step.
Tenny paused and turned. “Miss Cora? Aren’t you comin’?”
“When you said we’d be going in a wagon, I was just thinking about the wagon itself . . . I wasn’t thinking about what would be pulling it.” She braved a smile. “I’m still afraid of horses.”
He gave a slow nod. “I recall that you are, but this one’s all hitched up and can’t do anything unexpected. I promise, you’re safe.”
She pulled in a deep breath. “I don’t mean to sound like a ninny. It’s just . . . Never mind.” She lifted her chin and offered a smile. “I live on a ranch, and this is what people on ranches do.” Before she could talk herself out of it, she clambered onto the seat. Tenny stood nearby, ready to lend a hand, but she didn’t end up needing it—thankfully. After touching him a few minutes before, she wasn’t sure what touching him again would do to her.
Even if technically he’d been the one doing the touching the first time.
She shook her head again, trying to clear it. She certainly was in a dither, and most likely over something that didn’t even deserve it. They’d go for a drive, he’d decide she was dull and uninteresting, and he’d take her back to the kitchen. Simple as pie, and neither one of them would have to face the ridicule that sometimes goes along with a failed relationship. They’d just tell their friends it hadn’t worked out.
And she wouldn’t have to go near the horse again.
Tenny climbed up into the driver’s seat and urged the horse to move. The sudden motion made Cora slide a bit, and she found herself sitting a scandalous three inches away from Tenny’s right arm. She tried to slide back over without bringing attention to herself, but she knew her face was bright red, and there was no hiding that.
“How does
your hand feel, Miss Cora?”
“What? Oh, my hand?” She glanced down at it, rather surprised to see a towel on it. That’s right—she’d cut it. “It’s fine,” she replied, flustered. “I can hardly feel it.” Or feel her toes, for that matter. She hardly felt connected to her body at all.
“I’m glad to hear it. I was worried about you there for a minute.” He cleared his throat. “Now, as I was sayin’ before, I thought we’d go for this ride and I’d tell you what I do around here, and then we’d swap and you can tell me some things about yourself.”
“Oh, but I can’t take you for a ride,” she blurted before she thought about it.
“Well, that’s all right. You can leave the drivin’ up to me.” He flashed her a smile, and that was it—she was done for. Gracious—why hadn’t she ever noticed that dimple before?
What else had she missed?
She studied him out of the corner of her eye, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious about her inspection. He’d trimmed his light sandy-red beard until it was little more than scruff, and his blue eyes twinkled from beneath the brim of his hat. His skin was a bit weathered, as one would expect—after all, he worked outdoors, and Kansas was a hot and dusty place. All in all, he looked strong and dependable—and handsome. Yes, she had to admit, he was handsome. She didn’t know why she’d fought that realization for so long.
As to his age, she’d never been good at determining things like that, but perhaps he was thirty? That would make him her senior by ten years or so, but she didn’t think that mattered so very much.
They followed the main dirt road that cut through the ranch all the way to the far end. Cora had no idea how to gauge distance and she couldn’t guess how large the ranch was, but she guessed they drove about twenty minutes. They tried talking along the way, but it was difficult to be heard over the sound of wheels and the horse’s hooves on the hard-packed dirt, so they gave up after a few tries and settled in to enjoy the ride.
Cora hadn’t gone exploring since the first day they’d come to the ranch and the men had taken them for horseback rides. Well … they’d tried to go, and that had been a disaster of the most dreadful sort because of her fear of horses. And because everyone on the ranch got around mostly on horseback, she hadn’t made it much farther than the edge of the housing compound. She was astonished at just how large the property was, how it stretched as far as she could see.
A Cattleman for Cora Page 1
