A Bride for Clark

by P. Creeden

  Clark nodded and then stood where he was as he watched the two men leave the hotel lobby and disappear in the direction of the train station. Relief covered him like a blanket. Now that this bump in the road was over, perhaps he could actually get back to running his ranch and making sure they had enough supplies for winter. In the lobby of the hotel, the owner and his employee were hanging up bows of holly and decorating with bits of tinsel. He blinked. While he’d been busy running around, trying to appease his uncle, days had passed in a blur. It was now the second day of December, and the weather outside was showing that winter was well on its way.

  The wind blustered through the town of Tulsa, making people pull their coats tighter around them and hold their hats to keep from losing them in the breeze. Clark stepped up to the glass in the hotel door front and spied Smokey with her hindquarters facing the wind. A sigh escaped Clark. His new bride’s family had requested that she be allowed to stay with them ten more days before she left by train. He’d permitted it, and they’d sent the dowry to show that they were committed to keeping their promises. It had been a blessing from God that the dowry had exactly matched the amount he’d needed to make the down payment.

  Maybe it had been a sign from God, too. Perhaps the direction he’d been thrust in before he was ready was the one God had planned for him, too. If he’d had his own way, he might never have remarried. But regardless, it had only been four and a half months since he’d lost Mary in the first place. Was it really fair that he was being forced to marry again so soon? Pulling his coat collar up and around his neck, he stepped out into the blustery day and stepped up to the hitching post where Smokey stood. The mare nickered at him when she saw him. He withdrew a sugar cube from his pocket and offered it to the mare who lipped it up with vigor. After patting the horse on her neck, Clark mounted and started toward home feeling like a condemned man. He used to go home with excitement, looking forward to seeing Mary and spending time with the wife that he loved. How would things be now with Winifred?

  He dreaded her arrival as it was. Nudging his horse into a lope, Clark let out his breath slowly. It was unfair for him to already write her off as a loss. He hoped that she was at least a gentle soul that he wouldn’t mind spending his days with. That was all he needed. For her to be a equitable person. He didn’t care if she were pretty or plain or what she looked like. As long as she treated his workers well and didn’t nag him and make his life miserable. Was that too much for him to ask for?

  When Winnie finally stepped off the train in Tulsa, Oklahoma Territory, she peered around. The town wasn’t quite the same as Baltimore. Although it was a good size, everything was made of wood and had a more temporary feel than the permanent, aged brick buildings of her home city. Things were dustier. The trees were smaller and has more space between them. And the gentlemen wore work clothing more often than suits. It was the other way around back east. She gripped the wooden handles of her carpet bag and then leaned against her steamer trunk. Then glanced up at the clock that hung in the station. The train was supposed to arrive at eleven o’clock, but it had arrived at ten thirty-five. Only ten minutes had passed while she’d disembarked from the train and acquired her luggage. Though many in the station happily greeted loved ones, no one had approached Winnie or looked her way as though searching for her.

  She hummed a song to herself as she watched people in the station greet one another or say their good-byes as others loaded into the train to head for the next destination, even farther west. A young boy of about three was playing a game with a wooden catch and ball as his parents and four siblings started to board the train. When he threw the ball into the air again, the red painted ball came off the string and flew farther than it should have. In a panic, the child chased after the ball and scrambled under a bench to retrieve it. Once he did, he looked up and found himself alone. The panic that had been on his face a moment before suddenly became fully fearful, and the babe’s face twisted as he cried. Winnie looked toward the train to see if she could find the child’s parents, but they were already aboard. After setting down her carpet bag atop her trunk, she rushed over to the little boy’s side. “Hush now, child. I’ll help you,” Winnie said, offering her hand. “Just take my hand and hold tightly to your toy. I’ll help you find your mother.”

  Though still filled with tears, the child’s blue eyes fixed on her and grew wide. “Momma?”

  “Yes, I’ll help you find Momma.”

  The boy took her outstretched hand and squeezed it. It was already wet and slick with his tears. She squeezed it back and started leading him toward the train. The boy said, “I’m Thomas.”

  She smiled back at him. “You can call me Winnie.”

  The boy smiled and nodded. “Winnie.”

  Once Winnie reached the train, she explained to the conductor what had happened. He nodded and slipped into the main car of the train and made an announcement. A woman jumped up in panic and rushed to the doorway. “Thomas!” the woman yelled. “I told you to stay with your brother.”

  The boy began to wail again, and then grabbed hold of Winnie’s leg and side. “I’m sorry Momma!”

  Winnie set a hand reassuringly on the child’s back. “His toy broke and then he lost sight of you for just a moment. But everything is going to be okay now, right?”

  The mother frowned but nodded and then bent down toward the boy. “Thomas, come here.” she said softly. “It’s all right.”

  The little boy swiped the tears from his face and then reached up to put his arms around his mother’s neck. She lifted him up and then she nodded toward Winnie, mouthing a “thank you” before heading back onto the train. Winnie smiled and then turned about, noticing suddenly that the station was just about empty. Only a few people milled about. A cowboy stood against a pillar watching the whole scene with an approving smile that made Winnie’s heart flutter. She averted her eyes and looked for her luggage once more and found it, just before a man rushed over toward it, grabbed her carpet bag and started running the other direction.

  “Hey!” Winnie yelled as she began to chase after the man. “What are you doing? Thief!”

  The man ran harder, and Winnie couldn’t keep up in her button up boots. Her heel twisted as she ran, and she nearly fell over, but arms caught her. The cowboy.

  “Are you all right?” he asked in deep voice, worry causing wrinkles over his brow. His hazel eyes looked her over.

  “I’m okay, but I need to get my bag back.” Tears stung the backs of Winnie’s eyes. She didn’t own much in this world, but the bag held her grandmother’s pearls and it was the most valuable thing she owned. Her grandmother had bought them from a Chinaman in San Francisco when there before the gold rush of ’49. She used to joke that they missed out on the gold, but at least she’d come back with something worth passing down for generations. Now the necklace was gone.

  The cowboy squeezed her shoulders and pulled her toward a bench. “Stay here. I’ll get him.”

  And with that, he ran off in the direction of the thief. Without a thought, Winnie pulled her thumb toward her lips and her thumbnail made its way between her teeth. Even though both men went around the corner, and she couldn’t see what was happening, Winnie kept her eye on the side of the building where they’d gone. Pain radiated up her leg from her ankle. Now what was she going to do? She wanted to go after the two of them and get her things back, but she knew it was impossible. She wasn’t sure if she was even going to be able to walk toward her steamer trunk. How would she get to her new home like this? She looked around again and then up at the clock in the terminal. It was nearly two and no one had come to get her yet.

  The train whistled, and the conductor within yelled, “All aboard!”

  Winnie’s heart raced in her chest. What was the outcome between the cowboy and the thief? Why should she trust that the cowboy wouldn’t just keep her things for himself, once he saw that she had something valuable in the bag? After another minute, the train began to chug and pull away fro
m the station. Winnie pulled her eyes from the corner where the men had disappeared and watched as the train pulled past. Movement in one of the windows caught her attention, and she found that the the little boy, Thomas, waved to her, the little red ball still in one of his hands. She smiled and waved back. Then after the remaining cars passed, the train station quieted.

  Just before she turned back toward the corner she’d been watching, a man stepped up next to her and knelt down so that he was eye level with her. The cowboy smiled at her and offered her the bag. “Is this yours?”

  She blinked at it and smiled. “Yes! It is.”

  “Great,” he said, standing again, still holding the bag and then offering her hand. “You can lean upon me as I help you to the wagon.”

  She looked at his offered hand and then looked back at him, furrowing her brow. “I beg your pardon?”

  He blinked at her a moment and then shook his head. “Oh! Please forgive me. I’m Clark Masterson, and you are Winifred, right?”

  At the sound of his name, Winnie’s heart skipped a beat again. Only this time, it continued racing even faster than it had earlier when she was nervous. She blinked up at the cowboy with the charming smile that even reached his hazel eyes and swallowed hard. “You’re Mr. Masterson?”

  “Please, call me Clark,” he said, leaning down and offering his hand again. “Let me help you up. Lean on me as much as you need to keep the weight off that ankle. I’ll have Mrs. Harp see to it or get the doctor if it needs once we’re home.”

  For the first time in Winnie’s life, she really didn’t know what to say. But without a word, she took his offered hand and then leaned against his arm while they started out of the station. Clark stayed right with her and shortened his step to match her limp. He smelled of leather and horses and pine. Of barns and outdoors. It was a cleaner scent than she’d expected and distinct to him. She’d never smelled anything like it before. By the time they reached the cart, the pain in her ankle throbbed.

  After Clark stepped forward and set her bag on the seat of the wagon, he came back to her without ever having let her go. Then he met eyes with her. “Put your arms around my neck and I’m going to lift you up onto the seat. Okay?”

  Her eyes went wide. “What?”

  Then he bent down and put an arm around the back of her knees.

  “Wait,” she said, but it came out as barely a whisper as she panicked.

  Without hearing her, Clark lifted her up, and her arms went around his neck automatically. The pine scent became stronger, overpowering the other scents that filled her nostrils. His breath warmed her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped up into the wagon with her and then set her down on the seat. For a long moment, he just stood there like that, bent toward her. She swallowed hard, wondering why he hadn’t pulled away yet.

  “You can let go of my neck now,” he said with a small chuckle.

  “Oh!” she said as she pulled her arms away.

  With a smile, he leaned back and then sat next to her on the cart. He chuckled and shook his head as the cart jostled. The porters had loaded her trunk into the wagon. He called back his thanks and then he picked up the reins and clucked to the horse pulling the cart. She could hardly keep her eyes off the handsome gentleman sitting next to her. This was Clark Masterson? Her new husband? He was far more handsome and kind and good-natured than she’d imagined... than she’d hoped. Her heart continued to race in her chest. She set a hand over it as she turned away, realizing again that she was staring. If she didn’t get control of her heart, would she die? Could someone die from a racing heart? Either way, she took slow breaths and tried not to look Clark’s way again as they made their way toward her new home.

  Chapter 7

  Clark swallowed hard as he drove the black mare toward home. Winifred was not what he’d expected. As a woman from a family of means, he’d expected something quite different. Maybe a woman who was more pretentious. Maybe a woman who wouldn’t have noticed a child alone in the train station. But Winifred did notice him. She not only noticed but did something about it and to her own detriment. He’d been shocked when he saw the thief take hold of her things and run off. Somehow, she even tried to go after the thief herself. He wondered, if she had not twisted her ankle, would she have caught the man? The thought of it brought a smile to his lips. He would have liked to have seen it. She had a bit of spunk and spitfire, this one. And that made quite the impression on Clark.

  She smelled of cinnamon and sugar. When he’d held her close to his chest, it had almost smelled as though he’d held a bakery in his arms. His mouth nearly watered.

  They continued past the church at the end of town, and from within, the sound of the choir practicing Christmas carols spilled out into the street. It lightened Clark’s heart to hear it, even though it was an unseasonably warm day for mid-December. As the sound of the choir diminished behind them, he found that Winifred continued to hum the melody until the end of the song. She did it quietly and without looking his direction, even though he peered over at her. Unpretentious and quiet, he found her already. She continued the trip in veritable silence or would have if Clark hadn’t broken it.

  As they pulled down the lane toward the ranch house, he cleared his throat. “Do you travel much, Winifred?”

  She blinked in surprise and shook her head. “No, none at all. And please, call me Winnie.”

  “Winnie,” he said, savoring her name on his tongue and liking the feel of it. “So, you’ve never been this far west, then?”

  She shook her head again. “Never. I don’t recall ever venturing outside of Baltimore. This land here is drier and wider open. It will take some getting used to.”

  “Drier? I hadn’t quite thought of that.”

  “Oh yes!” she said with a laugh. “It’s very humid in Baltimore. Our shop is not far from the inner harbor there on the Patapsco River. It made things interesting while we were baking at times.”

  “Baking? Do you bake?” He remembered her scent and it made much more sense now.

  “Yes! My family owns a bakery there in Baltimore. I recently created a new type of hot cross bun that was very popular. People called them Christmas Buns.”

  “Really?” he asked, liking the way their conversation was so easy. He grinned as they pulled up to the barn. “I’d like to try that.”

  Joe Harp walked over with his wife upon his arm. They both greeted her with wide smiles as she continued to sit upon the wagon.

  Clark hopped down and rushed over to the same side as they stood, pushing his way through so he could offer up his arms to her. “Allow me to help you down.”

  Her cheeks filled with a delightful shade of pink as she peered over toward the Harps and then met eyes with him again. She seemed a bit mortified that she needed so much help, but honestly, Clark didn’t mind one bit. Even though she was a bit tall and a little curvy, she was much lighter than she looked. And holding her warmth close to him was as much a pleasure as inhaling her delicious scent. It was almost like carrying a hot cross bun in his arms. He was tempted to take a bite as she rested her hands on his shoulders and he lifted her up and set her gently upon the ground. She wobbled a bit and he steadied her.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Masterson,” Mrs. Harp said. “I’m Josephine Harp, and this is Joe, my husband.”

  Winnie lifted a brow. “You’re both named Joe?”

  The elder Mrs. Harp chuckled. “Yes, we are. It’s been quite a journey for us both through our marriage. You may call me Josephine if you like, but most folks around here just call me Mrs. Harp.”

  “And you may call me Winnie,” she said with a smile.

  “What a lovely smile you have,” Mrs. Harp said as she hugged Winnie’s shoulders. “We’ll have to be sure to see that very often here. I see you’ve injured yourself?”

  Winnie balanced on her good leg while she held her injured leg with the toe barely touching the ground. “I’m afraid I hurt my ankle at the train station here in Tuls
a.”

  “Oh! Well let’s get you in the house and off your feet. We’ll put a poultice on it and get you some willow bark to chew. You’ll be feeling much better in no time. Here, lean upon me and I’ll help you inside. The boys can get your baggage.” And with that, the two women leaned upon each other and started toward the house.

  Clark let his gaze follow the pair for a moment, watching the way that Mrs. Harp already had Winnie laughing again. Maybe there was something to the way this matchmaker arranged marriages after all. Mrs. Harp had said that the woman was blessed with a gift for making matches. After meeting Winnie, Clark was starting to believe it. The quiet girl with an easy smile and enough spunk to chase a thief was just the kind of girl to bring Clark out of the thought that he’d be unhappy in a marriage again.

  Mrs. Harp was the mother that Winnie had always wished she’d had. The woman fawned over Winnie and her injury and attempted to feed her beyond what Winnie would normally eat. The two of them sat in the kitchen while the elder Mrs. Harp told Winnie all about the ranch, the work they did there, and the boys who worked the ranch. It was almost as though the woman didn’t need breathe. Finally, when she did take a breath, she shook her head and apologized.

  “I don’t know what has come over me. I guess I’ve been starved for feminine attention for much too long!” the elder woman exclaimed. “I’ve always treated Clark and the boys as though they were my sons, but now, I finally have a daughter to cherish. I feel truly blessed today.”

  A cherished daughter. the thought that Winnie could actually be that to someone brought the sting of tears to her eyes. But she swallowed them back. It wouldn’t do to get overly emotional right now after just meeting everyone.

  The other two cowboys on the ranch both came up to the house at lunch time for soup and sandwiches. They introduced themselves as Billy and Jessie. Both were around the same age as Justin, maybe a little older, giving her a distinct feeling of being at home. Only somehow, the ranch was better. Joe and Mrs. Harp were both generous and humble parents. They looked at the two younger cowboys with love, and also treated them both as sons. They worked hard to make Winnie feel at home but didn’t take away from the fact that Clark was owner of the property somehow.