Chapter 2
Josh Volker had a plan. He’d already purchased a working ranch near Serenity, a sleepy little farming community just this side of the Sierra Nevada Mountain range. The current owner, an aging cowboy, was moving out at the end of the month, and by that time Josh intended to get his affairs in order in Sacramento, pay off all his bills, and find a wife.
It was useless to squire the fair ladies of Sacramento or anyone within a hundred miles. Who was he kidding? His reputation reached throughout the west. Until a year ago, he’d run with the Renfro gang. No father would allow him to court his daughter.
His only hope of finding a respectable wife was to advertise in the eastern magazines and lay it all in the Lord’s hands. It would take a leap of faith for a woman to come clear across the country. That was all right. He wanted his wife to be a woman of faith. Someone he could trust. A partner.
Before becoming a gun slinger for the Renfro gang, he’d spent three years working a claim in one of the last gold mines still worth anything. His cousin, Tom, partnered with him until the Renfros lured Tom into joining up with them.
Josh’s next two mining partners turned out to be scoundrels, skimming off the gold dust. Then the vein ran out, and there was nothing left to steal.
He didn’t know it at the time, but he was at a crossroad. Penniless and without hope, he’d joined the Renfros. His quick trigger-finger and steady nerves got him the position of body-guard to Jim Renfro. Neither Josh nor Tom, who served as stronghold guard, was trusted to join in the robberies, but they were being groomed.
The next months exposed Josh to enough sin and vice for a lifetime. He participated in most of it, along with men who would slit their own mother’s throat for a dime. Seeking comfort from crass, vulgar women who’d sold their souls long before they sold their bodies.
Josh lived in that mire and sin until he didn’t see a way out. Then one day, he remembered Granny Volker, and her words began playing in his mind. He remembered what it felt like to be loved. Granny said there was a God in Heaven Who loved him no matter what he did or how far he went.
He’d had to ride thirty miles before he found a church. It was empty, but the door was unlocked. He’d made his way down the aisle, falling onto the altar. All of the pain and venom of the past years came gushing out like the pus from a sore.
Just as the sun could burn off the valley fog, the Son of God cleared his soul. He left that church a different man with a different vision.
He quit the gang and went to the North woods and worked for a logging company, saving nearly every penny he earned. The lumberjacks were almost as hardened as those of the mine town, and there were the same women to be had. Josh shunned them all. For over a year, he knew nothing but work and loneliness. But he didn’t expect a miracle.
One happened anyway.
A mining company contacted him, wanting to buy his old claim for an unheard of amount. He reckoned they’d found a new vein. Or different ore. They could have it. Josh signed their contract and mailed it before the ink was dry.
A letter from Granny told him about the ranch for sale, and Josh went to see it. He’d fallen in love with the land and had a long talk with the old rancher. Before the day ended, he’d sealed the deal.
As if to remind him he couldn’t get away from trouble, Granny kept writing him, begging him to find his cousin, Tom. She’d heard Tom was still with the Renfro gang back in Bluffton. Josh hated the thought of returning there, but he owed Granny a lot. She’d taken him and Tom in when Tom lost the ranch he’d inherited—the place where Josh had taken refuge after his father died and his mother left.
The day was sunny and cool as he rode out of Serenity toward Bluffton. His roan stallion, Hercules, broke into a gallop toward the open countryside filled with spring. He stopped twice along the way, wondering what aggravation Tom would have waiting for him.
After making inquiries at the Bluffton livery, he was assured if Tom was in town he’d be at the saloon. That would have been Josh’s first guess anyway. He thanked the man and walked Hercules across the street.
He stepped through the swinging doors. The stench of whiskey, smoke, and unwashed bodies rose up to stifle him. After his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he sent a sweeping glance around the room. Sure enough, Tom sat at a table of four in the back corner.
Josh had grown up with Tom and worked on his uncle’s cattle ranch in Colorado alongside his cousin. Even then Tom had a weakness for gambling. When he inherited the ranch, it hadn’t taken him but two years to lose it.
It was a shame.
A poker game was in progress, and he recognized Jim Renfro sitting opposite Tom. The other players were probably members of the Renfro gang. The last Josh heard of the gang, all of them were serving time for robbery. They might just as likely have escaped as been released. Either way, they’d be back behind bars before long, and if Tom didn’t get away from them, he’d wind up in jail too.
Josh waited until the hand ended and came up alongside Tom. “I’ve been looking all over for you. We have to talk after the game.” No need to waste time on pleasantries.
When Tom met his gaze, a smile broke out like he was pleased. “Josh, you old son-of-a-gun. Where’ve you been?”
“Washington Territory. I’m in Sacramento now, but I’ve bought a ranch near Serenity.”
“Bought it outright? How’d you manage that?”
“Saved the money from logging.” That was half the truth.
Jim Renfro turned mocking black eyes on him and let his gaze slide all the way to Josh’s boots. “So you’ve changed from a gun-toting scoundrel to a gun-toting cowboy. Don’t see how that’s an improvement.”
Josh rested his hand on his pistol, knowing that was the only thing Jim respected. “You wouldn’t.”
“Sit down, Josh. This won’t take long,” Tom said, nodding toward the empty chair at the next table.
Josh dragged the chair beside Tom and threw his leg over its back, sliding into the seat. “How’d you like to come work for me?”
“Work on a ranch. You’re funning me.” Tom sent a glance to the two other men. “Fellows, this is my cousin, Josh Volker. He used to tear the town up with Jim and me after the mine went dry.” He nudged Josh with his elbow. “This is Dodge and Ham, Jim’s brothers from another mother.”
Both of the surly men cast a suspicious glare Josh’s way. “You still in the game, Tom?” Ham asked. They’d already dealt the hand and placed bets. “You two look too much alike to be just cousins.”
“Their mas were twins.” Jim struck a match against his boot heel. The smell of sulfur battled with tobacco smoke as he lit his cigar. “You gonna play or reminiscent, Tom?”
“I can talk and play at the same time.” Tom laid two more bills down and took another card. “Guess Josh and me have a right to look alike. Not only were our mas identical, our pas were brothers.” It was true Josh and Tom could pass for twins. Hair the same shade of ripe wheat. Cobalt blue eyes. Same stature and facial features.
“If you stay, Volker, don’t think of helping your cousin.” Jim matched Tom’s bet, and his brothers followed suit. Josh wondered where the rest of the gang was. Still in jail, probably.
Tom barked a laugh loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the place. “Josh? Help me? He don’t know a full house from a flush.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Josh had played poker back in his wild days, but Tom was right in that he’d always lost more than he won. “So are you interested in going back to ranching?”
Tom waited to study his cards before raising the bet again. “Nah, I’m doing good with gambling. Making a lot more than any cowhand.”
How many times had Josh heard that before? He’d even trusted it at one time. “All sin sounds better for a while.”
Tom’s gaze shifted from his cards to Josh. “Granny told me you got religion.”
“I didn’t get religion. I got sense.”
Tom took his winnings while the dealer
dealt a new hand. “I might not have much sense, but I’ll stay with the boys awhile.”
“You look me up when your winning streak ends.”
Josh started to rise, but Tom clutched his arm. “Wait, you’re bringing me luck.” He addressed his companions. “Josh might not’ve been much of a gambler, but he always brought me luck with cards and the ladies. I used to trick them into thinking I was him. You got a woman back in Sacramento, Josh?”
“No, but I’m getting married.”
“Married?” Tom laid his cards down. With one brow raised, he jutted his head back and eyed Josh with amusement. “Now you are joshing. Who’re you marrying?”
Josh clenched his jaw, regretting he’d mentioned it. “I don’t know yet. I sent an ad back east for a mail-order bride.”
Tom laughed. “Somebody who don’t know you, huh?”
“Are you going to flap your jaws or play?” Jim’s typical gruffness sharpened his tone. “More likely your cousin got tired of paying the soiled doves of Sacramento.”
Jim was skating to the edge of Josh’s endurance. He heard the blood rushing in his ears and gripped the chair’s seat to keep control.
“Don’t mind him, Josh.” Tom laid his cards on the table, face down, and pulled out his money wad. “But you’re taking an awful chance with a mail-order bride. What if she turns out to be dog-faced?”
“I’ll hope for the best.”
Tom deposited his roll of bills on top of the considerable pot in the middle of the table. “I’m all in, fellas.”
The other three players exchanged guarded glances. “He’s bluffing.” Jim chewed on his cigar. None of them made a move to lay down their money.
“I might be bluffing, but like I said, Josh brought me luck.” Tom reared back in his chair and crossed his arms in a perfect show of confidence.
Stares bored into Josh, and he tried to hold his countenance. He hadn’t been paying close attention to Tom’s hand, but he didn’t think his cousin held better than a pair of fives.
“What should we do, Jim?” Dodge asked. “He put in a hundred and twenty dollars.”
Jim swiped his nose with the back of his hand, a mannerism Josh remembered from the time he’d ridden with the outlaw. “Do what you want, but I’m calling his bluff.” With his elbows propped on the table, Jim started counting out his money.
Tom didn’t bat an eyelash. “’Course you know if I lose, I’ll have to take Josh up on that job.”
Jim’s hand stilled and his eyes narrowed. Josh had to hand it to his cousin. Tom was not only bluffing, he was blackmailing the outlaw, knowing Jim couldn’t afford to lose another gang member.
“Well, I’m folding,” Ham said.
“Me too,” Dodge added.
Jim lowered his hand. “All right. You win this time. I fold.”
Tom laughed, leaning in to rake in his cash. He laid his cards down. “I was bluffing.”
Jim’s anger exploded. “You cheating skunk. Both of you. This was a set-up. You weren’t getting anything until your cousin came in.”
“I’m good at poker, Jim. I told you that. Josh here didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Jim leveled a spiteful glare at Josh. “What kind of game you playing, cowboy?”
“I don’t play.” Josh raised his voice to match Jim’s, well aware the outlaw was trying to get out of losing.
They had the attention of the whole saloon and everyone started talking at once.
The barkeep bellowed over the noise. “Hey, you rowdies, whatever your problem is, take it outside.”
Josh got to his feet. “Let’s get out of here, Tom.”
Before Josh could walk away, Jim grabbed his shoulder. “I say you were helping Tom cheat.”
Josh sized Jim up. The man was tall but spindly. Josh still had plenty of muscle left over from his logging work. He might’ve got religion, as Tom said, but he was still a wet-behind-the-ears Christian. The desire to teach this polecat a lesson was a lot stronger than the urge to turn the other cheek.
They all piled outside into the street. Jim might be expecting his pals to help him, but they hung back. That was the drawback to depending on reprobates. They weren’t dependable.
As Jim took a swing, Josh dodged, and the old urges washed over him like waves crashing onto shore. He jerked back his fist before he thought and followed through with an uppercut that sent Jim sprawling.
He stood over the man. “You want more, or are you ready to give up?”
Jim darted a glance to his brothers who sidled backwards. He got up and swiped his bleeding mouth. “Come on fellas.” As they stalked off, Jim turned his head, piercing Josh with a look of pure hatred. “I don’t give up. I get even.”
Tom slapped Josh on the back. “Nobody can beat you fighting, Josh. I got to give you that. Ole Jim will come around. He’s just got a burr under his saddle.”
They walked over the wooden sidewalk. “Tom you don’t have to live like this.”
Tom chuckled like any gambler with his pockets stuffed with new winnings. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m living high on the hog.”
“Those men are letting you win small pots. They’re trying to suck you in.”
Tom stopped and pushed his hat back. “You always were too suspicious, Josh. You assume I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Do you? The Renfros won’t stay out of jail long.” Josh lifted his hat to scratch his head. He didn’t know how to get through to Tom. “Granny’s worried about you. If you don’t want to work for me, why not go stay with her?”
Tom barked another laugh. “And do what? Crochet doilies?”
“You have a purpose in life, Tom, and you’re getting old enough to start living it. I can tell you leaving the vice and living for the Lord is the difference between life and death.”
“So you’ve become a preacher? I’d’ve never believed it.”
“I’m no preacher. I can only tell you how my life has changed.”
Tom started walking again. “Yeah, you’ve bought a ranch, gonna marry a lady. That sounds as much fun as crocheting doilies.”
Josh drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You will promise to at least go see Granny. She doesn’t live far from Serenity. I’m not leaving you alone until you do.”
A grimace twisted Tom’s face into a sneer, then he relaxed. “All right. I’ll go see Granny tomorrow. It’s been a long time, and I owe her. I’ll show her I’m doing fine as baby’s hair.” He punched Josh in the ribs. “Hey, if you get married, you’ll have kids to do the ranch work. Pa got a lot of work out of us, huh.”
Tom had always resented being made to work on the ranch while Josh enjoyed it. No, Tom would never be a good cowboy, but God had something in store for him. Josh just hoped Tom would find what that was before he got shot down in the streets.
Chapter 3
Ramee kept her door cracked so she could hear when her friends arrived. The longer she waited, the more convinced she was this wouldn’t go well. But the deed was done. She’d secured her train tickets and sent a telegram to Josh Volker.
The sound of voices below stairs made her jump off the bed. Drawing in a deep breath, she sank back on the mattress and willed her heart to stop racing.
Carianne and Prudie were still in conversation when they pushed the door open and came in. “Mrs. McGee said you wanted to see us.” Prudie flopped on the end of the bed, bouncing Ramee. “Did you tell that horrid Jackson you wanted to break the engagement?”
How astute Prudie was. “I was going to.”
Carianne sat at the little vanity stool. “Ramee, you’ve been saying that for weeks. You have to be honest with the man. Do you intend to let him show up at the altar?”
That’s exactly what she expected would happen. “He’s made arrangements for us to be wed next Saturday afternoon right here in the garden. The judge will marry us.”
Carianne and Prudie exchanged startled glances. “How nice for him to give us a whole week to prepare. Why didn’t y
ou set him straight?” Prudie asked, an incredulous tone icing her voice.
Indeed, why not? Fear? “I have no intention of marrying Jackson, but before I could tell him, we had…words.”
“What words?” Carianne demanded.
Ramee explained in detail what Jackson expected, how he’d sold her designs, and what he’d do if she broke the engagement. She repeated his condescending words verbatim and in the same haughty tone.
If she expected sympathy, she was disappointed. Carianne got up and stopped in front of Ramee, her arms crossed. “But you let him leave, thinking you’d go along with his plans?”
“Let him get away without slapping his face?” Prudie added.
“I just wanted to be rid of him. Frankly, he frightened me. I realized I have to leave Cambridge, leave this region. I’d leave the country, if that were possible. Jackson will make good on destroying my reputation. I won’t be able to sell my designs to anyone, or show my face in society for who knows how long. Anyway, I’ve taken steps to solve the problem.” She paused and lowered her voice. “Though it’ll mean leaving.”
Prudie and Carianne exchanged another telling look. “Where are you going?” Carianne asked.
“As far as possible.”
“You should have stopped seeing that man long before now,” Prudie reminded her.
“Yes, I know, but…I want to be married, and I’ll need a man to pave the way for me in the business world. Fortunately, Jackson isn’t the only man willing to marry for convenience.”
Carianne’s mouth hung open, the way it used to when she and Ramee were children. “What are you talking about? You speak as if marriage were a business arrangement.”
“Every marriage is a business arrangement. Yes, I know a husband and wife should love one another, but more often than not, the love comes after the wedding.”
The Annex Mail-Order Brides: Preque (Intrigue Under Western Skies Book 0) Page 12
