He nodded. “I’ve been inside. It’s not bad. And it has its own well.”
Suddenly shy, he picked up his reins. “Mrs. Leman said the cook will give us some cookies at the kitchen, if you feel like having some refreshment.”
“I’d love it.”
They rode the short distance to the ranch house. Lila, the widow who kept house for the family, nodded as they went in the kitchen door.
“Mornin’. Coffee, miss?”
“Yes, thank you,” Isabella said.
Lila had mugs laid out on the small kitchen table, and she took half a dozen oatmeal cookies from a crock and placed them on a plate.
“Now, I’ve got to redd up the bedrooms. You folks take your time.”
Isabella smiled at her, and Lila left the room carrying a broom, dustpan, and cleaning rag.
They talked for a few minutes while they enjoyed the coffee and cookies. To Edwin, things seemed to be going quite well. But he had to hitch up the buggy again and have Isabella home and fetch Mrs. Leman by noon, so he couldn’t fully relax.
On the way back to Angel Vale, he said, “I suppose some of the ladies are getting married by now.”
“Yes,” Isabella admitted. “I’ve already attended two weddings.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t prepared.”
“I know,” she said. “You don’t need to keep saying it. If things work out, it will be fine. And the Lemans seem to think highly of you.”
Edwin nodded slowly. “I mentioned the other night that there’s complications.”
She nodded. “What did you mean by that? More than the uncertainty about the foreman?”
Edwin picked up his spoon and stirred his coffee, though it didn’t need it. “It’s just that their nephew is going to come and stay with them. Mrs. Leman told me this morning that he’s coming about the middle of October. Some of the fellows think Mr. Leman wants him to take over the ranch.”
“And that would put you out of a job?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t feel like I can ask.”
“I’ll be praying about it. Thank you for telling me.”
He sighed and looked over at her. “How long will they let you stay at the boarding place?”
“Mr. Underwood said we can stay as long as needed, but … Well, I think it’s understood that if a woman doesn’t marry and decides to get a job instead, she will find other accommodations. I can’t see Mr. Underwood paying for coal to heat that barn of a place all winter.”
“Not likely,” Edwin said.
“I have wondered if there are suitable jobs for women here.”
“I don’t want you to have to think about that. I shouldn’t have brought you out here until I had a place.”
“The way the arrangements were made, it seemed I had to come now, with the others,” Isabella said.
“Yeah. But … well, I just wish things were different.” He squared his shoulders. “Look, if you decide you want to go back, I’ll help pay your way. I’ve been saving for … for us. If you don’t want to stay …”
“But I do.”
His heart leaped. “You do?”
“Definitely.”
He smiled. “Good. I want that too. Let’s ask the Lord to make it possible.”
Isabella’s answering smile warmed his heart. This was a woman he could depend on. One he could spend the rest of his days with. If only he had the means to make it happen.
Chapter Three
As the sun drew lower over the western hills, Isabella dressed with great care. Edwin was picking her up as soon as he finished his day’s work and got cleaned up. There wasn’t much by way of entertainment in Angel Vale, but she had prepared a picnic supper, and Edwin had promised to bring either the buggy or a saddlehorse, and they would find a scenic spot to share the meal.
A week had passed since their ride at the ranch. Edwin had ridden into town once since then on business for his employer and had managed a quick visit, but he had no news for her. All day Isabella had prayed for the Lord’s grace, and that Mr. Leman would give Edwin the word that he would be promoted. As the shadows lengthened, she grew more excited. Would this be the night they would settle the engagement and choose a wedding date?
Only about half the young women from Merville remained at the lodgings. The rest had married their grooms and set out to begin their new lives. Isabella longed for that day to come for her.
When she was ready, she checked the picnic basket. She had loaded it with cheese, raisins, pickles, sliced beef sandwiches—every type of good, plain food she could find in town, and had baked some rather promising gingersnaps in the woodstove. The extras had been quickly consumed by the other ladies still in residence. They had pronounced them delicious, which made Isabella feel a little more confident about the outing. At least the one thing she had cooked would be a success.
She went to the window and looked out. The shadows were lengthening. She had expected Edwin to knock on the door before now. People passed by on the boardwalk. Most of the activity seemed to be in the neighborhood of the saloon. Across the street, a man locked the door of his shop for the night.
Becky Patterson came down the stairs on her way out for an evening with Jake Underwood, the mercantile’s owner. She bid Isabella a pleasant evening and went out. Isabella returned to the common room and sat down. The large, drafty building felt empty, and she wished she had a book to read, or some tatting to keep her hands busy.
She thought back to all the days she had waited for Henry to return from fishing. Her mother had been her example from early childhood. When Pa was out to sea, she kept busy. Mama would clean the house from top to bottom, do up every stitch of laundry, and bake enough bread for a fleet. And most days, that was enough. The men came home in the evening with their catch, and everyone in the clean house ate and laughed and rejoiced.
When she married a fisherman, it hadn’t taken Isabella long to feel the urgency of it. On days she didn’t have enough to do, she worried. The hours dragged, and she imagined all of the horrible things that could happen to a man far from shore in a small boat.
Her worst nightmare was that Henry would fall overboard and drown. Close behind that one, she harbored a fear of the calamity that actually took both him and her father—an unexpected storm. Dozens of boats were caught offshore. Her mother had passed away two years earlier, and Isabella waited alone. When the sky turned black, she began her scrubbing and baking ritual. When the rain fell in torrents, she lit the lamp and placed it in the front window, and then she sat down to pray.
She could barely tell when that day ended, as there was no sun to set. At suppertime, she snatched her kettle of stew from the stove and put on her oilskins. She trudged through the deluge to the nearest house. Maggie Crain was also waiting for her husband. Granny Hinckley had already joined her in the warm kitchen, where Maggie was feeding her two little boys a late supper. Isabella set her kettle on Maggie’s stove and they waited together through that awful night. In the morning, when the boats did not return, they wept together.
The next day, Maggie’s husband’s squat little boat, the Moonbeam, had wallowed into the harbor. Her seams were leaking and she sat low in the water, but the two men aboard managed to bail and keep her afloat long enough to make shore. Henry, her father, and Gramps Hinckley did not return, and Isabella began her widowhood.
When she had come west with the other brides, she thought she would escape that life, yet here she was, waiting for her man. Would she have been smarter to look for work in Portland or some other sizable town near the coast and find her own way? Why had she ever imagined that marrying again so soon—and to a stranger—would be a good idea?
Yet, she liked Edwin enormously. He was a little bit shy with her, and yet he seemed confident in his job. He was strong, and he knew his mind. She thought they could build a future together, if only they had a place to build it. And if he showed up. She jumped up and went to the door.
Where was that man?
&nbs
p; To her relief, she spotted him riding up the street, leading an extra horse. She dashed back inside for her picnic basket. She didn’t wait for him to knock, but went out front to meet him.
“Sorry I’m late,” Edwin said. He swung down from the saddle and took the basket from her. “We had to chase some strays, and it took longer than we thought.”
“It’s all right,” Isabella said, and she tried to mean it.
“It’s dark. Do you still want to picnic?”
“We have to eat.” She looked back toward the door of the lodgings. “Actually, all of the other ladies are out this evening. We could eat inside if you want.”
“Only because it would be warmer for you.”
Isabella nodded. They would set fewer tongues wagging than if they forayed off alone together after dark, too. Surely no one would gossip if she entertained her fiancé in the common room, and some of the other brides would probably return soon.
“All right, let’s. But I’m sorry you brought the horse all this way for nothing.”
Edwin shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
He secured both horses, and she led him inside. He set the basket on the rough plank table.
“I’ll get you some coffee.” Isabella went to the stove and felt the side of the blue spatterware coffeepot they kept simmering. “It’s probably been sitting here for some time.”
“Can’t be any worse than what I had on the range this afternoon.”
“You stopped to make coffee?”
“Like you say, we had to eat.”
Isabella frowned. She ought not to resent that, but he had kept her waiting a good hour later than she had expected.
“What is it?” Edwin asked.
“I was getting worried about you.”
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you fret.”
She ran a hand over her hair and pushed a loose tendril back into her bun. “It’s just—well, it made me think of when my Henry died. He and my father went out to fish that day, as they always did. But the storm came up so fast.”
Edwin’s face froze in a stricken expression. “I didn’t know.”
Isabella shook herself. “I should be able to forget it.”
“No, I reckon that’s something you’ll never forget completely.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll try to send you a message if I’m going to be late again.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“But it’d be worth it if it made you feel better.”
“I … suppose so.” She sneaked a glance at him. Edwin was very handsome tonight, though he wore coarse trousers and a checked cotton shirt. The hint of whiskers shadowed his chin. He hadn’t taken time to shave, because he knew she was waiting for him. “Thank you. Won’t you sit down?” She poured coffee for him. “It’s not as if your job was as dangerous as going to sea.”
Edwin cocked his head to one side. “Well, there’s times when we have trouble. But … I guess you’d know. It’s not like boats not coming home.”
She set the coffeepot back on the stove. “What kind of trouble?”
“Oh, ornery cattle, snakes, bad weather, all sorts of things.” He smiled sheepishly. “The last accident we had was a burn during branding time. Not me, one of the boys. And before that, Hoop Baker fell off his horse and busted his leg real good.”
“I see.” Isabella sat down across from him, thinking about that. A broken limb would be serious, but she could tend a man with an injury like that. At least she would have him back, even if he was hurt. It wouldn’t be the same as suddenly not having your man ever again, and not even getting to see his body. No chance to say goodbye, let alone see him buried good and proper.
###
Edwin was sent by his boss, a scant two weeks later, to meet the train. Mrs. Leman’s newphew would arrive at the end of the spur line, which was still twenty-five miles from Angel Vale, on the 2:15. Edwin took the wagon and set out early. Of course, one could never be certain the 2:15 would arrive at the appointed time. Weather, train robbers, or any number of other factors could cause a delay, but Edwin had to be there on time, as the odds favored the locomotive pulling in at least within thirty minutes either way of the scheduled arrival.
The hillsides in the distance shimmered with vibrant autumn colors. The aspens showed mostly yellow foliage now, and the oaks golden brown, but here and there, a maple or a patch of sumac flamed red. Of course, the pines kept their somber dark green. Edwin’s heart lifted at the sight, and yet it reminded him that he was no closer to providing a home for his bride. Isabella still waited patiently at the boardinghouse. He had managed to visit three times since the evening of their non-picnic.
Every time he spoke with her, he liked her more, and Edwin suspected his heart was already permanently in Isabella’s possession. But so far as he knew, she was still ready to back out of their marriage plans if he couldn’t prove up. The fact that Mr. Leman had said nothing more to him about the foreman’s post kept Edwin on edge. And now, here he was on his way to retrieve Jim Barrett, the nephew who might shut him out of his chance.
He stopped on his way through Angel Vale, pulling the team up before the boardinghouse. When he knocked on the door, Miss Patterson opened it. She was one of the as yet unmarried “angels,” and Edwin pulled off his hat. She was the pastor’s daughter who had saved their letter from the fire back in Maine, and as such commanded the gratitude of all the men concerned. Her father would have burned their request unanswered.
“Is Isabella home this morning?” he asked. “I can’t stop long, but I hoped to have a word with her.”
“I believe she is,” Miss Patterson said. “Won’t you step in?”
Edwin followed her into the entry and waited while she went to deliver the message. A half minute later, Isabella appeared, a bit breathless, wearing the dark green dress she had worn the first evening of her arrival.
“Edwin! I didn’t expect to see you today. Are you in town for supplies?”
“Not today. I’m heading for the railhead. Mrs. Leman’s nephew’s arriving today.”
“Oh, my.” Those two words and the apprehensive expression on Isabella’s face told Edwin she was as nervous about the newcomer as he was. “Will you be back through this evening?”
“Hope so. Unless the train’s late. I’ll have to wait if it is. Or if he’s not on it. I’ll have to stay in town, in that case, and see if he comes in tomorrow. My orders are to return to the ranch if he’s more than a day late.”
Isabella nodded. “It will be good if they finish the rail line to Angel Vale next summer. And the telegraph line.”
“It sure will.” There seemed little more to say, so he stood for a moment, gazing into her sweet face. His heart ached that he couldn’t take her to Mr. Reynolds, the justice of the peace, today and marry her good and proper.
“Well, I hope you have a safe journey,” she said.
“Thank you. I probably won’t stop on the way back. Unless he’s not with me.”
“I’ll watch to see if you go by with him along.”
Edwin nodded. “I don’t expect we’d be back through before five.”
Isabella nodded. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached toward him. Edwin took her hand and squeezed it.
The drive to the railroad depot passed quickly, as Edwin got to see scenery he’d been deprived of for months. Three new ranches had sprung up along the route, and the town where the train tracks ended had grown appreciably since his last visit. The clouds moved in and darkened the sky. Just as Edwin parked the wagon near the depot, a cloudburst broke.
He didn’t like leaving the team out in the rain, but he didn’t see any sense in stabling them until he knew if the train would arrive on time. Inside the depot, the stationmaster told him he expected it to show up within a half hour. Edwin turned up his collar and went out to take the horses and wagon down the street to the stable. He was able to put the team inside the barn, and the stable owner said he would water them and give them some hay.
Edwin returned to the depot, damp through when he reached it, and cooled his heels for another forty-five minutes, but at last the wail of the train whistle reached them. The locomotive rolled up to the platform and halted with a whoosh and a squeal. A dapper young man descended from the passenger car looking around expectantly, while the other handful of disembarking passengers dispersed. Edwin stepped forward.
“Mr. Barrett?”
The young man turned toward him and smiled. “Yes.”
“I’d Edwin Gray, from the Bar L. Mr. Leman sent me to fetch you to the ranch.”
“Glad to meet you. Jim Barrett. I have a valise somewhere.”
Barrett seemed cordial enough. He hardly looked old enough to need a razor, though, and his sack suit looked like it came out of a department store window. His face seemed pale, compared to the hardened outdoorsmen Edwin lived with, and he was very thin. Edwin wondered if the rumors he’d heard about the youth taking over management of the ranch could be false.
He asked Barrett if he was hungry and bought coffee and pie for both of them in the one hotel’s dining room, using money entrusted to him by the boss. When Jim declared he felt a sight better, Edwin found the young man’s luggage and walked with him the short distance to the livery stable. The rain had diminished to a drizzle, and by the time Edwin had hitched up and they were seated in the wagon, it was nothing but a fine mist. Still, its passing left the air chilly. The sun would set before they reached Angel Vale.
“So, what do you plan to do at the ranch?” Edwin dared to ask when they were a mile down the road.
“I dunno,” Jim said with a shrug. “Whatever Uncle Alfred and Aunt Nan tell me, I suppose. I spent the summer studying, and it wore me down some. Ma insisted I come out here and rusticate for a while.”
“Oh, you’re not staying, then?” Edwin’s hopes rose.
“I dunno. I like my aunt and uncle well enough, and I think they’d like me to stay on, but I sort of plan to be back home in Lowell for Christmas.”
“Aha.” Edwin took that to mean the young man didn’t consider rusticating at the Bar L to be a working proposition.
Christmas Mail Order Angels: The complete 11 Volume Set Page 17
