The Rancher's Courtship & Lone Wolf's Lady

by Laurie Kingery

  “You’re gonna wish you’d agreed to take us back, Collier,” Sims muttered as he strode off to get his horse.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Our text today is taken from the book of Nehemiah,” the Reverend Chadwick said, standing in front of his new pulpit in the new Simpson Creek Church. “‘And they said, Let us rise up and build. And they strengthened their hands for this good work.’ Friends, only a few months ago we stared at the smoking ruins of our beloved church and wondered if we had the strength to build it again. But all of you have ‘strengthened your hands,’ as the Bible says, and now we sit in our new building.”

  Caroline looked around her and breathed in the smell of new wood, new paint, new varnish. At the back, over the doorway, a stained glass rose window, one of two that the mayor had contributed, glowed with the late afternoon sunlight, while the other, a simple white cross outlined in royal blue, framed Chadwick’s white-topped head.

  Amelia and Abby had been wide-eyed as they gazed at all of it, oohing and aahing. “I never seen such pretty windows,” Abby breathed.

  Amelia nodded. “This must be the prettiest church ever.”

  Thank You, Lord, Caroline thought. Thank You for this new building, though we need to remember that Your church is not merely a building, but its people. And thank You that Jack and his daughters sit beside me. Show me if it is Your will for Jack and me to build a life together. Her mother, father and brother sat on her other side, her mother alternately beaming at Reverend Chadwick and her daughter.

  All around the sanctuary she saw her students, and one by one, they made eye contact with her, smiling, some giving discreet waves. What a blessing it was to live in a small town, where everyone she knew worshipped in the same church. She didn’t see Billy Joe Henderson or his parents, though. She wondered what had kept them from attending. Had Billy Joe’s brutish father finally struck his wife or his child somewhere it would show? She’d have to make it a point to check on the Hendersons tomorrow for certain, if they were not at Sunday services.

  In the pews behind them sat several of Jack’s men, looking a little out of place in these unfamiliar surroundings, their hair slicked down, their faces washed and shaved, and each of them wearing a shirt saved for coming into town. Caroline knew most of them had been lured by the promise of the food the ladies had been carrying into the new social hall since mid-morning, but she hoped perhaps they’d feel welcome enough to want to come back.

  Something was eating at Jack, though. He’d smiled when he’d joined her in the pew, while his daughters had arranged themselves between the two of them, but there was an air of distraction about him. She wondered what was amiss. Her father had handed him a letter postmarked “Montana” when he’d taken his seat, so maybe he was eager to read it or feared bad news. Was he wishing he was already wintering in Montana, his house framed by lodge pole pines and aspens, with massive mountains nearby and snow on the ground?

  When the dedication service was over, everyone filed into the new social hall. Several rows of long, wide planks on sawhorses had been set up, and it seemed every tablecloth in town had been pressed into service on these makeshift tables. Against one wall sat a long, carved rosewood table donated by the mercantile, laden with covered dishes that teased the nose with enticing smells. Pies, cakes and cookies were arranged at one end of the table, sliced hams, roast beef and chicken at the other, and every variety of potatoes, rice, breads and vegetables in between.

  Walking behind Caroline, one of Jack’s cowboys moan out loud, “I reckon I’ve died and gone to Heaven.”

  She couldn’t help but smile, and her smile broadened when she heard another cowboy add, “We’re gonna get so fat we won’t be able to sit our horses. First Missus Brookfield’s fed us, and now the whole church is doing the same.”

  She looked up at Jack to share the amusement, yet he seemed not to have heard his men’s remarks.

  Everyone found a seat, and the preacher blessed the food. Parents were invited to get food for their children first, and Caroline went with Jack, since he had both Abby and Amelia. Others helped elderly residents.

  Once the twins were devouring fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans, Caroline and Jack got back in line behind her mother and father and filled their own plates.

  Jack attacked his food with gusto, but every time she looked at him, he seemed to be looking around the room for someone. She saw his gaze land on Sheriff Bishop, eating next to his pretty bride Prissy, and Jack seemed satisfied. Why was he looking for the sheriff?

  “Papa, I want some apple pie,” Abby said,

  “Me, too,” her sister said. “And chocolate cake.”

  Jack glanced back at his children, then at their plates. “You have to eat all your green beans, and then you can have dessert.” Then he glanced around at his cowboys, as if satisfying himself that they were behaving, before going back to his food.

  “How are you finding A Tale of Two Cities, Jack?” Caroline asked him at last, when he made no attempt at conversation.

  The question seemed to recall him to his surroundings, and he met her gaze as if he were really seeing her at last.

  “Very absorbing,” he said. “A very complicated yarn. First London, then Paris...the French Revolution was certainly a lot more violent than ours.”

  “Yes...” she agreed, relieved that he seemed to be fully present at last. She thought of the ending, in which Carton goes to the guillotine to save Darnay, but didn’t want to speak of guillotines and such in front of the children.

  “I’ve been reading till long after the other fellows are snoring in the bunkhouse,” he told her with a chuckle. “I’ll be ready for Robinson Crusoe soon.”

  “You can have it whenever you want it,” she said, feeling a warm glow of pleasure that he was taking an interest in literature. “I was thinking you might like Ivanhoe, too. It’s about knights in old England, and jousts and so forth.”

  “Sounds good. By the time the winter’s over, I’ll be the best-read trail boss in the West,” he said lightly, then began staring toward the sheriff again.

  Caroline couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. She’d had such high hopes for furthering her relationship with Jack at this event, yet his mind seemed everywhere but with her. Surely he was planning to spend the night at their house to attend church in the morning with his girls, so she thought about waiting until they got home to ask him. But when he looked in the sheriff’s direction again, she decided to go ahead.

  She touched his wrist to get his attention. “Jack, is something wrong?” she asked. “Are you worried it’s bad news from Montana? Why don’t you go ahead and read the letter?”

  He shook his head and patted the letter in the pocket of his vest. “I’d forgotten all about that letter. And there’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said. He seemed to be ready to leave the matter there, but after his eyes met hers again, he must have guessed she wasn’t content with his answer. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, he was interrupted by Amelia.

  “Papa, we cleaned our plates,” Amelia announced. “Now can we have dessert?”

  “Yeah, Papa, I ate every single bite,” Abby added.

  Jack looked apologetically at Caroline. “Give me just a minute,” he said. “I’ll get them their cake and pie, and—”

  “Jack, I’ll help them get dessert,” Caroline’s mother said, rising from her seat. “I was going to go get some of Mrs. Detwiler’s chocolate cake myself. Come on, children, let’s get a little something for our sweet tooth—or should it be sweet teeth, daughter?”

  Caroline shot her mother a grateful look. Had her mother noticed her growing frustration at Jack’s distraction?

  She turned back to Jack, who was staring down at the remains of his supper. “Well?”

  He sighed. “Remember those two fellows that decided to quit when I asked the men t
o help build the bunkhouse?”

  She nodded, remembering the unpleasant encounter when the pair had stopped her and the girls in the street, and what Abby and Amelia had said about them.

  “It’s probably nothing to worry about,” Jack went on, “but the sheriff called out to me when I was leaving the other morning and told me what Sims and Adams had been up to. Seems they’ve been harassing the girls at the saloon, and some cattle have come up missing, with the leftover carcasses found later, and a couple of men who looked just like those two were seen stealing another rancher’s horse.”

  “But surely he can’t hold you responsible for what they do,” she murmured, “when they’re not working for you anymore.”

  “He doesn’t,” Jack said. “Just wanted me to be aware, in case they showed up back at the ranch, and a good thing he did. Sure enough, when I got back to Collier’s Roost, there they were, bold as brass, sitting around the campfire and waiting for me to hire them again, promising me they’d work as hard as anyone on the—” He stopped himself, as if he’d said too much. “I told them to ride on, that I wasn’t taking them back, and gave them the hint that Sheriff Bishop knew they’d been up to mischief and worse.”

  “Good,” she said, remembering the way the twins had shuddered in distaste after their meeting with the men. “And you don’t have enough work to need to take anyone else on, now that the bunkhouse is built. I mean, that’s why you took up reading, isn’t it? After the daily chores are done, it sounded to me as if there’s not that much to do.”

  He looked away and seemed to be struggling with how to answer her.

  “Well, I reckon the point is,” he said, “I wouldn’t have a dishonest man working for me no matter how much I had to do. But of course, one of them, Sims, who’s mouthier than the other, had to mutter as to how I’d wish later on I’d taken them back.”

  “He didn’t say anything more than that?”

  “No.”

  She nodded, understanding now about Jack’s distraction.

  “Of course, it wasn’t anything but the usual taunt you’d expect when someone like that doesn’t get what he wants—in this case, taking the boss for a fool—but all the same I’m feeling a mite uneasy at leaving just three men out there on the ranch with the herd. I think I’m going to ride on back there with the men soon rather than staying tonight—much as I’d like to,” he added quickly, for she must have betrayed some sign of dismay.

  “I... I understand,” she murmured.

  “I think I’d better let the sheriff in on what happened out there, too. I didn’t want to intrude on the sheriff and his wife’s meal, but looks like he’s about done eating. I want to catch him before he leaves. Will you excuse me, Caroline? I’ll come back and explain to the girls before I go,” he added. The twins were just making their way back to the table.

  “Of course.” She watched him walk away, telling herself her disappointment was childish and immature, that he had responsibilities as the owner of the herd that were more important than herself. Still, she’d had such high hopes for this event. Was a little gentlemanly attention too much to ask for?

  * * *

  “Who is that lady over there?” the newcomer asked his father, Reverend Chadwick. “The pretty one in the light gray dress with black trim.”

  The old preacher followed his son’s eyes. “Oh, that’s Miss Caroline Wallace, the town schoolteacher. Yes, she is very pretty,” he agreed.

  The younger man’s eyes sharpened. “‘Miss’ Caroline Wallace? Are the twin girls her sisters, then?” He looked at Caroline’s mother doubtfully.

  “No, not her sisters,” Reverend Chadwick said. “They’re the daughters of the man who just left the table, Jack Collier. He’s a trail boss spending the winter on a ranch near here with his men and his herd before going on to Montana. His daughters are staying with the Wallaces, since Caroline is their teacher and they can hardly stay at the bunkhouse with him and his drovers. The ranch house on the property had burned down, you see.”

  The other man looked thoughtful. “So there’s no other connection between him and Miss Wallace?”

  Chadwick recognized the signs of interest in his son’s eyes. “Not the kind I think you mean, Gil, as far as I know,” he said carefully. “Miss Caroline is just beginning to come out of deep mourning. Her fiancé died in the influenza epidemic I wrote you about last winter, when you were still in seminary. It just so happens he was Jack’s brother.”

  “I see,” said Gil, still watching Caroline Wallace, who was bending to hear something one of the twin girls was saying to her, a smile on her lovely face. “You don’t sound too certain about Miss Wallace and that Collier fellow.”

  “You might ask Milly Brookfield,” his father said, nodding toward where Milly and her husband sat with her sister Sarah and the doctor. “That lady you met just after you got off the stage? She’s sitting over yonder,” he said, nodding toward the table. “Anyway, Caroline and Milly are good friends, and they were both in the Spinsters’ Club I told you about. If anyone would know about the state of Miss Caroline’s heart, she would.”

  “I think I will ask her,” he said, rising and brushing a stray crumb from his frock coat.

  The old preacher watched his son with pride. A newly minted minister just out of seminary, Gil had not been called to a church yet, but there was no hurry. In the meantime, he’d have a long visit with him, and Gil could help him with his visits to church members. Those trips to far-flung ranches around Simpson Creek tired him so much these days... And he could do the sermon occasionally, Chadwick thought. Let him try out his new preaching skills on the townspeople. Gil hadn’t wanted to take part in the service today, saying that was a privilege his father alone had earned after his long service to the town, but he’d introduce him from the pulpit tomorrow.

  Oh, wife, we raised such a fine son. I only wish you could be here to see him today.

  Gil was obviously already asking about Caroline Wallace, Chadwick thought, judging from the way he nodded toward Caroline while leaning over the table speaking to Milly. Caroline, of course, was oblivious to all of this.

  He hoped he’d been right about Caroline and Jack’s lack of involvement with each other. Sometimes, when he saw them together in church, it was as if he had just missed a spark flaring between them, but part of the flash remained. It was like lightning a person hadn’t turned around in time to see, and which was too far off to hear its accompanying thunder. He didn’t want his son’s heart to be broken, but one could only protect a grown child from so much, he mused.

  * * *

  Jack had already taken his leave and gone with his men, and Caroline’s mother had taken Abby and Amelia home with her. The girls were disappointed that he wasn’t staying overnight, of course, but had brightened when he had told them he would come back for church and Sunday dinner with them, assuming everything was all right at Collier’s Roost. He hadn’t told his children why he was concerned about the ranch, of course, but they had accepted his explanation at face value.

  Caroline had stayed behind to help wash dishes with the Spinsters’ Club, which had volunteered to do the chore together. Although she was more than ready to leave, it felt good to be part of the group’s efforts.

  Having set aside the remaining food to take to a couple of the poorer families in town, they washed and rinsed and stacked dishes, whose owners would reclaim them after church tomorrow.

  “Who’s that tall fellow?” Caroline asked, eyeing the young man who was standing by the door, chatting with Reverend Chadwick, Nick Brookfield, Nolan Walker and Sheriff Bishop. “He keeps glancing in our direction.”

  Milly answered, “He’s Reverend Chadwick’s son, Gilford, just arrived off the noon stage and fresh out of seminary. We arrived in town just about the time the stage did, and his father made the introductions.”

  “His son, a new minister? Goodness, why didn’t
Reverend Chadwick introduce him?” Caroline asked.

  “I asked him that after the service, and he said Gil said he didn’t want to ‘steal his papa’s thunder’ at the service,” Milly said. “He met a few folks at the supper, of course, but I expect everyone will meet him tomorrow at the regular service.”

  “Good-looking fellow,” Caroline murmured, noting a long, handsome face, thick chestnut hair, expressive eyes and a tall but sturdy build. It was easy to see their preacher was his father—looking at Gilford Chadwick was like looking at the Reverend as a young man. “Is he a bachelor?”

  When Milly nodded, Caroline turned to Faith, the current leader of the group. “Faith, have you invited him to meet the Spinsters yet?”

  “Um, no...” Faith said, looking like she knew something Caroline didn’t know and found it amusing.

  “Actually,” Milly said, “he was asking for an introduction to you, Caroline.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Caroline took an involuntary step back, dismay flooding her. Involuntarily, she clapped a dishpan-wet hand to her chest, leaving a damp splotch on her bodice. “Oh, no,” she breathed. “Oh, no, you must tell him about my situation, that I’m still in mourning....”

  Prissy Bishop glanced meaningfully at Caroline’s gray dress. “You’re not wearing full mourning anymore,” she pointed out.

  “But that doesn’t mean...” Unaware that her gaze had flown for a moment to the doorway Jack had disappeared through, she now turned to the other ladies. “I—I’m not someone he must think of in that way. You have to tell him.”

  “Too late,” Sarah Walker murmured, drying her hands on a towel. “He’s coming this way.”

  Caroline glanced up, horrified, to see that Sarah was right. Gil Chadwick, the reverend’s son, was indeed making his way toward them. If there had been another exit, Caroline would have fled, but going out the doorway that connected the social hall with the church would take her right past the man heading toward them.