She smiled openly, deciding that she liked him. There was a raw honesty about him, something simple and sincere, that appealed to her. She hoped that once she was settled on the ranch, she’d run into him from time to time—she felt they could be friends.
“All right, then. Let’s be on our way.” She grasped her skirts and lifted them just enough so she could place her foot on the hub of the wheel. Then she grabbed the strap as instructed. For one precarious moment, she felt sure that she was going to dangle there in midair forever, but then her other foot found its hold. Finally, she was in the seat, a little winded, but triumphant. She looked down at the driver, who had a big grin on his face.
“That was amazing, Miss Westcott. And in all those skirts, too.” He shook his head, still grinning. “I never would have thought.”
“It would have been easier if they’d put some sort of ladder on the side of the wagon, but I made it.” She grinned back at him. “Shall we go?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turned around and smiled at her friends while the driver walked around the side of the rig and took his seat. They were chuckling, and she knew she was going to be teased the next time they were alone. She didn’t care, though—she’d conquered that wagon without any help, and she felt she had every right to brag.
Once the driver was in place and the horses had been nudged into motion, Wynonna had to grip the armrest to keep from being jounced clear out of her seat. “I’m sorry—could you please remind me of your name?” she called out to the driver over the sound of the wheels and the hooves on the hard-packed dirt.
“I’m Jack Milton, ma’am. I’m a wrangler out at the Lazy Q.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Milton. Tell me—what is a wrangler, exactly?”
“Mostly it means that I work with horses all day. When we’re at the ranch, I see to their training and whatnot. When we’re out on a cattle drive, I take care of the remuda.”
“What’s a remuda, Mr. Milton?”
He glanced over at her, then shook the reins again. “The remuda is the stash of extra horses we take with us on a drive. The men need fresh mounts at all times, so they’ll trade out their horses throughout the day so they’re always well rested. I keep track of which horses are fresh and which are spent.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea. I’m sure the horses appreciate it too.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He flashed her a smile. “They’re always glad to take turns. And being driven alongside the herd isn’t nearly as hard on them as being ridden—it’s like going on a leisurely stroll.”
“And do you do cattle drives often?”
“Every spring. Did ours for this year about two weeks ago.”
“How many cattle?”
“Oh, all depends on how the breeding has gone that year.”
“The . . . the breeding?”
“That’s right. We breed a certain number of cows every year in the hopes of strengthening the herd, and after the calves are old enough to leave their mamas, we decide how many we’re gonna sell and how many we’re gonna keep. We haven’t done a real big drive for a couple of years now—usually just around a hundred, I’d say. We had some cows turn out a bit sickly, but we’ve gotten the herd healthy again, so we hope to be increasing our numbers again soon.”
There was so much Wynonna didn’t understand. “So, when you take them for a drive . . . where are they going, exactly?”
“We drive them down to the train station so they can be loaded up to go to auction. We’re lucky to live so close to the station. The Circle T, where I worked before I came to the Lazy Q, was five hundred miles from the nearest railhead, and it took a couple of months to move all those cows that distance.”
“My goodness. I can’t imagine that.”
“It was something else to be sure.” Mr. Milton looked over his shoulder. “How are you ladies gettin’ along back there? Everythin’ all right?”
“We’re a little jostled, but that’s no fault of yours,” Fiona called in reply. “We’re all right.”
He nodded, then turned back to Wynonna. “Sorry things aren’t more comfortable. We’re more used to transporting goods than we are people.”
“That’s quite all right. I’m sure it could be a lot worse.”
“You’re right—I suppose it could.”
The wagon had reached the edge of town, and now they were rolling through what Wynonna could only describe as a prairie. It was dry and dusty, certainly nothing like the large expanses of green she was used to back east. It had been interesting to her on the train ride to look out the window and notice how the terrain grew more and more brown the farther west they traveled.
“I hope you don’t mind if I keep asking questions, Mr. Milton. I’m just so curious about this way of life—it’s so different from anything I’ve experienced before.”
“You can ask anything you like, Miss Westcott. I’m sure it will make the drive seem shorter, too.”
That would be nice—she had a nicer seat than her friends and they’d only been riding for a few minutes, but she was already more than eager to be done with it. “Could you tell me, what exactly is a ranch? Is it like a farm?”
“In a way, and yet not.” Mr. Milton shook the reins again. Wynonna noticed that he only flicked them when he really needed the horses to move faster—the rest of the time, he used gentle shakes to communicate with the animals. He seemed to have a good relationship with them, if that was the right word. She wasn’t even sure how to describe it. “On a farm, the primary goal is to raise a crop, along with a few animals maybe. On a ranch, the primary goal is cattle. We have a few to several hundred head of cattle at any given time, a few dozen horses to help us take care of them, and we have a few pigs and goats for eatin’ and for milk, but everything centers around the cattle.”
“Which you breed and sell,” she added for clarification.
“Exactly. We’re usually able to get around forty dollars a head, so selling them at auction keeps the ranch afloat for the whole next year until we do it all over again.”
Wynonna lifted a hand. “I’ve heard you say that a couple of times now—‘a head.’ What does that mean?”
“Just means each cow.”
“So, why not just say ‘each cow’?”
He paused, then chuckled. “I don’t rightly know. It’s just how it’s always been done.”
Wynonna sat back and looked around, deciding to give Mr. Milton a break from her incessant chattering and enjoy the scenery instead. It hadn’t changed much, actually, and before long, her mind started to wander. If they were taking two hundred cattle to auction every year, and each got forty dollars, that meant they were making eight thousand dollars per year. She had no idea how much it cost to run the ranch, so that wasn’t a figure she could factor into the equation, but taking the eight thousand and dividing it between the five ranchers she and her friends would be marrying, somehow they didn’t seem as wealthy as the girls had been led to believe.
“How many men work on the ranch?” she asked.
“There’s thirteen of us now. There were fifteen, but two of ’em left about two months ago and tried to take a hundred head with ’em. They’re in jail now.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear that.”
Mr. Milton shrugged. “It turned out all right in the end, and we’re gettin’ along fine with thirteen. We might hire on a few more come the next drive, but we’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
Thirteen men making . . . hmm. Wynonna would have to guess at their salary. She wasn’t about to ask Mr. Milton something so personal. She’d estimate that they each made twenty dollars a month, and that added up to two hundred and sixty dollars a month in labor costs. Over the course of a year . . . She wished she had a paper and pencil to do the arithmetic, but she’d have to rely on her head to do it for her. After a moment, she had her amount—$3120.00 a year in labor expenses. Then there would be the cost of feeding the animals, and she couldn’t
even begin to conjecture about that.
“What do the cattle eat?” she asked.
“Mostly grass from the pasture. During the winter, we bring in hay and whatnot.”
She nodded. Grass was free, wasn’t it? “And the horses?”
“The same, but also oats and maybe some corn.”
She was starting to get a headache. Truly, it was none of her business how much money the ranch did or didn’t make, but it was starting to become obvious to her that they hadn’t been told the whole story. How could her prospective husband be wealthy when it appeared that he was making less than a thousand dollars a year? That would meet basic living expenses, but it certainly didn’t support the claim that he was “wealthy.”
She hoped the other girls couldn’t overhear their conversation from where they were sitting. She didn’t want to worry them, especially Cora, who seemed so fragile. This was all a mistake, she was sure. The grooms must have some investments tucked away that they hadn’t told their employees about—Mr. Milton wouldn’t know all the workings of the ranch, just being their driver and no one important to the ranch’s success.
“Tell me about the others at the Lazy Q,” she said.
“Well, there’s Sully.” Mr. Milton jerked his thumb at the wagon trailing behind them. “He’s in charge of breeding. He used to be one of the best out on the trail, but he hurt his leg, so he doesn’t go out on drives anymore.”
“He seems like a fun fellow,” Wynonna replied.
“He is—one of the best friends I have. Then there’s Big Mike—he’s the foreman. He keeps us on track with our jobs, and when we’re on a drive, he’s the trail boss. That means he rides out in front and leads the way.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility,” Wynonna commented.
“It is, but he can handle it. He’s a good man—been at this for a long time. Then there’s Zeke. He’s the handyman, you might say. He takes care of all the repairs around the place—the fence lines, too, but we all lend a hand with that when needed. It’s a big job.” Mr. Milton glanced at her. “You gonna remember all these names, Miss Westcott? There are thirteen of us, remember.”
“I’ve wished for a paper and pencil a few times now during this conversation,” she replied with a smile. “Just remind me—I’ll get them all memorized eventually.”
He grinned. “All right, then.” He continued to rattle off names and the positions they held on the ranch, but sure enough, they did all start to blur together. She remembered that there was a sharpshooter, although she couldn’t remember his name, and she retained a few unusual names like Irish, Benedict, and Gallagher. Beyond that—well, she would need to be nudged from time to time.
“So, back to you, Mr. Milton. Are you married?”
“Well, not yet, ma’am.” He cast her a curious glance. “It’s not something I’ve ever given much thought to in the past.”
“The time does have to be right for things like that.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He gave the reins another shake. “I hope you’re not too worn out—we’ve got another piece to go before we’re there.”
“I’m actually quite exhausted, but I’m sure I’ll be all right.”
“We can stop and let everyone walk around for a bit—we have enough time before dark.”
Wynonna hadn’t even been paying attention to the afternoon light. “Truthfully, Mr. Milton, if I get down from this wagon, I’m worried I might not be able to get back up. It’s best for me to stay right where I am until I know I’m getting down for good.”
He chuckled. “Miss Westcott, I have a feeling we’re going to enjoy having you around the Lazy Q. Sully said he thought some brides would be good for us, and by dang if he isn’t right again.” He paused, and his eyes grew wide. “Please forgive my language, Miss Westcott. I spend most of my time around men and horses, and I forget what it means to use polite language around a lady.”
“I didn’t pay it much mind,” Wynonna said with a smile. She noticed in that moment how very blue his eyes were. She’d been so preoccupied with trying to stay on the wagon seat and then doing mental arithmetic that she hadn’t been giving him much attention at all, but now that she looked at him—really looked—she could see that he was a very pleasant-looking young man. She shouldn’t be noticing things like that considering that she’d be marrying someone else shortly, but she had to admit that Mr. Milton had certain charms.
“I’m glad. I don’t mean to cause offense.”
“I know you didn’t, and I don’t intend to take any.”
He smiled. “All right, let’s keep going until we reach the ranch. Or, if any of your friends would like to stop, we could pause for their benefit and you could remain safely on your seat.”
Wynonna turned around and relayed the question, but all the girls said they were fine, so they pushed forward.
After about an hour, the terrain started to turn green, and Wynonna made out some hills up ahead. “That’s the Lazy Q,” Mr. Milton said, nodding. “There’s a river that runs across the back half of the property, and a few of those hills are on ranch land too. It’s a right pretty place, especially in the spring when all the grass blades are bright and young and tender. We’ve got a share of wildflowers growing in the front, and lots of trees. Come nightfall, if it’s not cloudy, you can see the stars from horizon to horizon. I don’t think there’s a prettier place in the whole world.”
Wynonna was so glad to see green, she nearly cried. She’d begun to fear that there wasn’t a single green thing to be had in the whole state. “It’s very pretty,” she said. “It’s a shame, though, that you have to pass through so much dust to get here.”
“That it is. We’re all used to it by now, though. Just part of the price we pay for this bit of heaven.”
A few minutes later, Mr. Milton slowed the wagon and bid the horses turn to the left. A big wooden archway marked “Lazy Q” indicated the start to the property, and up ahead, Wynonna could make out a large house, with a smaller house some yards to the side of it and a long, low house some distance behind that. She could also see stables and sheds arranged on all sides to create a sort of compound.
“I do hope you’ll be happy here, Miss Westcott,” Mr. Milton said, and Wynonna realized she’d forgotten to ask specific questions about the ranchers. That was quite absent-minded of her—she should have made that her first priority, but she’d been so interested in learning how the cattle drives worked and so forth that she’d been quite distracted.
They drove onward until they reached the large house, and then Mr. Milton brought the wagon to a halt. Wynonna turned and saw that the other wagon was coming to a stop right behind them.
“Let’s get you down from there,” Mr. Milton said, descending from his seat and coming around the wagon. “Now, Miss Westcott, you’re going to do the same thing you did to get up there, only in reverse.”
Wynonna had to think about that a moment. Just how had she gotten up there? She reached out and grasped the strap, then lowered her first leg to the toehold, then reached for the second strap. Everything was going just fine until she stepped down onto the wheel hub and her shoe slipped, bringing her tumbling down in a flurry of skirts.
She felt strong arms catch her, then set her to rights again, and she found herself looking up into Mr. Milton’s blue eyes.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Nothing damaged but my pride. Thank you.” She steadied herself on her feet and smoothed out her dress. “I think my legs are just wobbly from riding so long.”
“No doubt. Well, we’ll get you walking around a bit and you’ll feel much better shortly.” He gave her a smile, then went to the back of the wagon to help her friends down. Gracious. She’d been so distracted by those blue eyes, she’d forgotten about the other girls entirely.
Chapter Six
Jack helped the last girl alight, then turned toward the house as he heard the front door open and close. “What on earth? Jack, do we have visitors?”
<
br /> Jack smiled at Miss Margaret, who was descending the porch steps as she spoke. “Miss Margaret, I’m very pleased to introduce the five mail-order brides we’ve been expectin’.”
She reached out and steadied herself on the stair rail. “I . . . I beg your pardon? Mail-order brides?”
“That’s right, ma’am. The ones that were sent away for.”
Miss Margaret looked completely befuddled. She glanced back at Wade, who had followed her out of the house. “Wade, did you know anything about this?”
Wade looked between Jack and Sully. “I seem to recall a brief mention of something, but no, I can’t say that I knew about five young ladies showing up today.”
“Well now, I can make this all clear,” Sully said, coming forward to the front of the group. “There was an advertisement in the newspaper for young ladies wantin’ to come west, and I took the liberty of answerin’ that ad. I talked to Wade first and got his approval, so we should all be good.”
Wade furrowed his brow. “When did you talk to me about mail-order brides, Sully?”
“Well, it was that mornin’ when we were talkin’ about breedin’ the cows. We were out there by the corral, remember?”
“Sully, do you have any idea how many conversations we’ve had about breeding out by the corral?” Wade shook his head. “I might not remember every word we’ve ever said to each other, but believe you me, if you’d said something about mail-order brides, I woulda remembered that.”
A knot was starting to grow in Jack’s stomach. If Wade didn’t remember being asked, did that mean it wasn’t all right after all? He glanced over at Miss Westcott, whose face had gone a shade of white he wouldn’t have thought possible on a human. The other young ladies looked similarly bad off.
Miss Westcott took a step forward. “I believe we need to discuss this further,” she said. “My name is Wynonna Westcott, and my friends and I are from Philadelphia and surrounding areas. We contracted with a matchmaker to travel here for the purposes of marrying five ranchers in possession of the Lazy Q Ranch. This is the Lazy Q, isn’t it?”
A Wrangler for Wynonna Page 5
