Matty stared at the door in disbelief. Back home, men said her dress was pretty or she’d done a fine job at something, but Jim stared her right in the eye and spoke with such unwavering conviction, it made her go weak in the knees.
“Hard to imagine he’s the same man who was singing to a fractious mare yesterday,” Bertie grumbled as she started stacking the dishes.
“It won’t much matter in a few days.” Bess lifted her chin and stabbed a hat pin through her bonnet to keep it in place. “We’ll be in town, so we won’t be here to plague him.”
Matty walked to the hall tree to fetch her reticule. I don’t want to vex him … but I don’t want to move to town either. He thinks I’m pretty!
“Trying to git yerself kilt?” Scotty stuck out his weathered right hand and yanked Jim to his feet. Instead of letting go, the old man tugged him close and said in a gravelly undertone, “Son, you gotta pay attention to the horse you’re on—not the mares who went to town.”
After taking his third bone-jarring, spine-crunching fall in less than an hour, Jim knew he couldn’t deny the truth. He bent, picked up his hat, and smacked it against his thigh. Dust flew about him from that simple action—proof he’d spent more time out of the saddle than in it. He jutted his chin toward the mustang he’d been breaking. “He’s about to see who’s in charge.”
Three hours later, when he’d broken the mustang and rewarded it with plenty of affection and soothing, Jim shot another look at the sun. They still weren’t back from town.
Last night was sleepless and frustrating as could be. He should’ve been able to doze off in the stable—he’d slept on hard ground so much, it wasn’t any skin off his nose. Though he’d never admit it to Luke, the sumptuous meals that the women served more than made up for sleeping out here. The fact was, Jim had come to the conclusion he liked having Matty around. In fact, he didn’t even mind her sisters either.
He knew they wanted to stay. He wanted them to, too—but he couldn’t let emotions lead him from the path wisdom and safety dictated. This was no place for them. Why, if Matty left the house to go to the stable during the winter, a blizzard could kick up and she’d die from exposure. And what with her around the horses and all, one was bound to kick her sometime. He’d taken to having her shadow him most of the day so he’d be sure she wouldn’t meet with any harm. Her companionship was all any man could ever hope for—but his conscience wouldn’t allow him to keep her. The minute something happened, he’d never forgive himself. He was morally bound to send them someplace where ladies were sheltered from the harsh realities of life.
Bertie ran out of the house and skidded to a halt in front of him. She held a drumstick in her hand and mumbled around the bite in her mouth, “Lunch is on the table for you. Corrie’s lying down, so try not to slam the door. Bess said you need to oil the hinges—they squeak.”
As she dashed off toward the stable to see Rhubarb and the kittens, Jim didn’t know whether to chuckle or grumble. Ellis Stack had to be blind and stupid to think Bertie was either old or mature enough to be a bride. Then again, Jim didn’t particularly cotton to the notion of a kid telling him to stay quiet in his own home—or her bossy oldest sister deciding what he needed to repair. He headed toward the house, consoling himself with the fact that Luke was buying the train tickets.
Jim choked down the miserable excuse for lunch Bertie left on the table for him, then finished oiling the hinges on the screen as Luke drove the buckboard up to the house. He nearly squirted oil onto his shirt as he caught sight of the sun glinting on Matty’s hair. Teamed with her green dress, that golden hair made her look pretty as the yellow flowers Ma used to favor each spring. Seeing her sitting next to Luke made Jim grit his teeth.
“Get everything settled?” he asked his brother as he absently helped Bess from the buckboard.
“Not yet,” Bess said as she stepped aside and lavishly petted Ramon’s springy gray fur. The dumb dog somehow decided he belonged to her, and Jim immediately made a mental note to pay off his ranch hand and give the dog to Bess when she left.
Jim grabbed for Matty before Luke could. He settled his hands around her waist and drew her toward himself. The breeze blew that beguiling perfume she favored toward him, and he tried not to be obvious in sniffing to catch another whiff. He forced himself to listen to what she was saying.
“—but they’ll need to vote on it.”
“What?”
Matty squeezed his shoulders and looked downward to remind him to finish setting her on the ground instead of hanging on and letting her toes dangle. Still, she spoke to cover the awkward moment. “Mr. Potter, the attorney at the land office, said the town owns the jail, so they’ll have to put an announcement in the paper and hold a vote.”
Jim glared over her shoulder, straight at Luke. Luke shrugged. “Ma taught us it was rude to argue with women.”
“You mean you wasted the entire morning—”
“Hey. You want ’em gone, you do your own dirty work.”
Chapter 7
Yes, I know how to smile and nod. What kind of question is that?” Matty gave Jim a baffled look. He’d let her sisters walk ahead toward the buggy, but he’d held her back.
“All you do is smile and nod to all of the men in town. It’s Sunday. You’re there for worship—not courtship.”
“I refuse to be rude!”
“Good,” Jim cut in. He grabbed her arm and marched her to the buggy. “Just remember that. No talking in church.”
She stopped in her tracks. “You missed breakfast and are surly as a coyote with crossed eyes. Do I need to get you a cup of coffee?”
“Matty, we’re going to be late!” Corrie called.
The whole ride into town, Matty stewed over Jim’s orders. Who was he to tell her how to conduct herself? He had no call to monitor her behavior. She’d done nothing to earn his orders.
By the time they reached town, all of the Craig sisters huddled a little closer to one another. An entire cadre of men surrounded the buggy. Men, each in his very best bib and tucker, had come to attend the monthly service the circuit rider gave; but from the way they greeted one another, most never darkened the door of the church.
Or, in this case, never bothered to gather in the jailhouse—which was where the circuit preacher normally held services.
“Josh, you old coot, what’re you doing, all fancied up?”
“Why, goin’ to the Sunday meetin’!”
“That’s two miracles,” Luke murmured for the sisters’ benefit. “In the five years I’ve known him, Josh hasn’t ever bathed or attended church.” Bertie burst out laughing.
When the sisters got out of the buggy, what looked to be the entire population of Lickwind stood in a bedraggled line, like soldiers awaiting inspection. A tall one with his fair hair parted in the middle and pomaded into two slick halves stepped forward with his bowler pressed over his heart and a fistful of wildflowers. “I’ll be proud to claim any of you as my bride. I got me a purty little start-up ranch with a good, sound cabin—”
“Hold your horses!” Jim roared above the crowd. “No one’s getting married today. You can all forget proposing to these women and start paying attention to the parson.”
“I can do both,” a grizzled man announced.
“Not today, you won’t.”
Matty stayed with her sisters as the men decided services could be held outside, on the other side of the railroad tracks. Chairs and benches got dragged from the saloon and mercantile, and the men all argued over who got to sit next to the women.
Parson Harris handled the situation by simply announcing the Craig sisters would be the choir and sit behind him. Bertie actually sat still through the service for the first time in her life. Bess made a point of keeping a parasol over Corrie to protect her from the sun’s heat. Matty remembered Jim’s advice to smile and nod … but why was he glaring back at her the whole time the parson preached on loving your neighbor as yourself?
“Just what is the m
eaning of this?” Jim took the paper out of his vest pocket and flung it down on the table. He’d been fit to be tied ever since the moment he spied the paper tacked to the Jones’s storefront. He’d hardly heard a word the pastor said after he’d grabbed a bench for church.
“It’s one of the invitations,” Bess said matter-of-factly as she checked on the rolls in the oven.
“You.” Jim turned and waggled his forefinger at Matty. “You’re behind this. You’re so gregarious, you want every man in the territory to drop in and be your friend.”
“Actually,” Luke said, “it was my idea.”
“What?”
“It’s just a barbecue. These women shouldn’t have to go back to where they’re not wanted.”
Angrily tapping the toe of his boot on the floor planks, Jim shook his head. “They don’t have to go back there, but they need to go somewhere safe and decent.”
“There’s nothing wrong with them meeting men who could make them happy here in Lickwind.”
Jim plopped into a chair and stared at his brother in disbelief. “You must’ve hit your head one too many times while breaking that last batch of horses.” Suddenly, Bess’s words fully registered. He shot forward. “What do you mean, ‘One of the invitations’? Just how many got posted?”
Matty sashayed past him with a platter of meat loaf. Aromatic steam wafted off of it and made his mouth water, but Matty’s words made his mouth suddenly go dry. “Bess posted about six of them in town. I only handed out a dozen or so.”
Luke snitched a roll as Bess took them from the oven. He tossed it from hand to hand so it would cool as he tacked on, “But I gave a stack of them to Jones in the mercantile, Squires at the feedstore, and Gideon at the saloon. They’ve been passing them around. We ought to have a good turnout.” Jim, Matty thought, looks and acts like a riled porcupine. He’d barely spoken and not shaved at all since Sunday. It wasn’t because he needed more of the Watkins Liniment, either. Each time someone said something about the barbecue, he’d bristled. Corrie sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. “After tomorrow, it’ll all be over.”
Matty heard the grief in her twin’s voice. She set down her brush, sat beside Corrie, and squeezed her hand. “We’ll manage better than you think. Bess has a good plan. Once the men all arrive, we’ll get them to hold a vote to let us settle in the jailhouse until we can each have a chance to do some courting and decide on who suits each of us best. Don’t worry—we won’t send you off as someone’s bride tomorrow.”
Corrie gave her a watery smile. “Bess and her plans.”
Matty nudged her shoulder. “Have you ever known Bossy Bess to come up with one that didn’t work?”
“Turn around. I’ll braid your hair.” As soon as Matty spun around, Corrie started to finger-comb her twin’s hair and plait it into a loose braid that matched her own. “You seem much happier here than back home.”
“Getting away from Ellis is such a relief. There wasn’t a day that went by that I wondered if God sent him as a test for my Christian patience.”
“Papa willed that farm to all of us. He’d be so sad to see how greedy Ellis got.”
Matty traced a sprig of daisies on her lawn nightgown. “Ellis is going to fly into a rage when he finds out he’s not getting any money out of this.”
“Bess is right though. We’re not his legal charges, and it’s illegal to sell people. He stuck us on that train, and we aren’t even what the Collingswoods ordered. They don’t owe him anything and neither do we.”
“And our train fare is only a fraction of what he owes us for our shares of the dairy.”
As she tied a narrow strip of ribbon on the tail of Matty’s braid, Corrie quietly asked, “So if we’re staying, are you interested in any of the men you’ve met yet?”
“They’re all fine men. Some are a bit on the unpolished side, but they have good hearts.” Matty hopped up, blew out the lamp, and crawled into bed. She snuggled under the covers. Matty waited as her sister wiggled to settle in next to her then whispered, “I know no one will ever be like Brian—but is there anyone you think you might get along with yourself?”
“I know I’m going to need someone to provide for me and the baby….” Corrie’s voice hitched, then she blurted out, “But I can’t imagine ever loving another man.”
Matty scooted over and hugged her. “If any of the men want me as a wife, I’ll see if I can’t have him take you as part of the bargain.”
“You would?”
The tremble in her sister’s voice cut Matty to the core. “After getting here and seeing all that needs to be done, I think it’s a very reasonable idea. Especially if he’s a rancher, my husband would know that having an extra woman around to help with cooking, sewing, and cleaning would be a bonus.”
“There’s a world of difference between an extra pair of hands and a widow with a baby.”
Matty propped herself up on one elbow and gave Corrie’s braid a playful yank. “The only problem will be fighting back all of the men who come to call. Sis, you can’t believe the way all of the hands keep sneaking into the stable to check on the kittens. Big, tough old cowboys—down on their knees, bringing treats so Rhubarb will let them pet her kittens. If they’re that way with kittens, I know they’ll go wild over your little baby.”
“You’re spinning a yarn.”
“You just watch the stable and see if I’m not right. Lanky, Pete, and Scotty have all swiped eggs from the henhouse for her. Chico gave up one of his prized graniteware bowls so she could have milk each day. Luke keeps taking over fresh hay to be sure the corner is soft and warm enough.”
“Well, I’ll be!”
“Yes.” Matty flopped back down and stared at the ceiling. “Jim gave up that blanket, and I saw him hunkered down, singing under his breath while he hand-fed Rhubarb a rasher of bacon.”
“Tilde?”
Matty started. Her twin rarely ever called her that pet name. “Huh?”
“Be careful of your heart. Jim’s trying his best to get rid of us, but your voice softens when you say his name. You’ve never done that with anybody else.”
“Nonsense. My heart’s not in any danger.”
“I’m not being silly. I sense a spark between the two of you, but he’s every bit as stubborn as you are. You came here planning to be a bride, so your mind freed your heart to find love. The problem is—Jim’s dead-set against marriage. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Corrie, when we set out, I told God I trusted Him to find me the right mate. I must have faith that He will direct my path.” She tugged at the covers then muttered, “But so far, it’s seemed like a rocky path on a moonless night.”
Corrie giggled.
“Hey, you!” Bess called from the room next door. “Hush up and go to sleep!”
“It’s Matty’s fault!” Corrie sang out.
When Matty stopped laughing at that ridiculous fib, she whispered, “You told a lie. You have to say the bedtime prayer tonight.”
Corrie fumbled and grabbed Matty’s hand. She said a sweet prayer and asked the Lord to bless her baby’s health and for Him to provide good men as grooms for each of her sisters. “And, Father, please give each of them a sense of assurance when You put that man in her path.”
After Corrie was fast asleep, Matty still lay there and remembered thinking she wanted to marry a man like the one who rescued her at the train—even before she knew he was James Collingswood. He was a good, solid man, strong and honest. From all of the time she’d spent with him, she knew his gruffness hid a heart of gold. Other men here had become her pals—just like back home, but James Collingswood was different.
Lord, what Corrie said is starting to ring true. I never felt this way about a man before. If Jim’s the man for me, You’re going to have to change his heart, because he’s all but shoved me out the door.
Clyde Kincaid rode up at the crack of dawn. Jim stood in the doorway of the stable and squinted at his neighbor as he dismounted. The wind carried t
he reek of his bay rum.
“Mornin’.” Clyde swaggered over. “Gonna be some day, huh?”
“Not till noon. Men all have work to do before they socialize.” Jim stuffed his hands into a worn pair of leather gloves. “I expect you’ll be coming back after you’ve tended to chores at your spread.”
“Naw. I can afford to take a day off. I’ll marry up with one of the gals, and we can catch up on work tomorrow.” Clyde tilted his head toward the house. “I seen them all at Sunday worship. Robust women. Able to pull their weight.”
“They’re women,” Jim ground out, “not draft horses.”
Clyde chuckled. “Soon as they’re hitched, they’ll be brood mares.”
“Kincaid, you’ve got ten seconds to get clear of my property before I level you.”
The dust hadn’t settled from Clyde’s hasty departure when Luke sauntered by. “I’ve seen friendlier-looking thunderclouds. What’s gotten into you?”
“You and your idiotic barbecue, that’s what.”
“Come on, Jim. You don’t want the women here. It’s a good way to introduce them—”
“No.” Jim glared at his brother. “If you think I’m happy about stuffing those sweet women back on a train, you can guess again. Fact is, it’s the lesser of two evils. I’d never buy me a bride like I was bidding on livestock. This whole thing is a nightmare, but the best I can do is send them somewhere decent. There aren’t a handful of men in the whole county who are fit to marry them.”
“It’s not up to us to judge that. You’re gonna have a revolution on your hands if you interfere or send the Craig sisters away.”
Jim took a step closer and gritted, “Clyde Kincaid was just here.”
“He’s about to lose his place.” Luke roared in outrage, “What does he think he’s doing, trying to get one of our gals?”
“Our gals?” Jim poked him in the chest. “Since when did you decide they were ours?”
“We can’t let those kind of men around the Craig girls.”
“That’s the problem. Just you watch today. We’re going to be overrun with every man in the county, and we’ll be lucky if even one is able to provide decently. To take it a step farther, just how many of the leatherhands around here know how to treat a lady?”
Bartered Bride Romance Collection Page 23
