The Rancher's Courtship & Lone Wolf's Lady

by Laurie Kingery

  “This is a mistake,” he’d said, and he’d been right. He was second best again, just as he’d always been to his father. He’d made a lot of mistakes—was thinking Caroline could love him the biggest one he’d made in a long time? Was he a fool to be building a fine house with her in mind? Should he just stop working on it now—maybe even tear down what they’d built so far?

  His men would be sure he was loco if he did such a thing. He couldn’t do it, after they’d worked so hard.

  And what if he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion about Caroline and Gil? He wasn’t wrong about the way Gil thought of Caroline—but was he about to make an even bigger mistake about how she felt about Gil?

  Lord, show me the truth, he prayed. Show me what to do. Show me Caroline’s heart.

  But his only answer was silence.

  At least she didn’t know about the house. He could comfort himself with that. He wasn’t a laughingstock—yet.

  Perhaps he should just wait and see what developed—how Caroline acted toward him, what she said—or didn’t say. Wait for a sign that she wanted a life with him. If there was no sign, he’d have his answer.

  But in the meantime, what was he to do about Christmas? He’d wanted to give her something special, maybe something even in the way of a combined Christmas and courtship present, if tonight had gone well. But it hadn’t, and now he was left with a quandary.

  He needed to give Caroline something—if only to thank her for taking care of his children so well. But it had to be a present that didn’t commit him—didn’t reveal the full extent of the love that he held for her, until he knew for sure how she felt about him.

  If only Christmas wasn’t in just a few days. But it was.

  * * *

  He was no clearer about the path he should take when he rode back into town the next afternoon. He’d ridden out to the ranch to check on his herd and explain to the men about the event at the schoolhouse he had to attend that night.

  “The herd’s doin’ fine, boss,” Raleigh had told him, as all of them had sat at the bunkhouse table eating some of Cookie’s potent chili. “I reckon Sims and Adams skedaddled out of the county and I don’t figure they’ll be back. And don’t worry about us being neglected on Christmas Day, boss,” Raleigh said with a grin. “We knew you’d want to stay with the girls, so we invited the Brookfield fellows here for a little celebratin’ in the evening, to return the favor from Thanksgiving. That way we’re right here, watching the herd.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” Jack said, appreciating their thoughtfulness. He glanced at Cookie. “But do they know what they’re letting themselves in for?”

  It was a subtle dig at Cookie’s cooking, but for once, the old chuck wagon cook took no offense. “They’re bringin’ food, too, boss. So if my trail drive cookin’ ain’t good enough for ’em, they’ll have other vittles, too.”

  So it was settled. He’d return to town after the meal and do his shopping at the mercantile before having an early supper with the Wallaces, then go to the recitation. It would be too late to return to the ranch after that, so he’d spend the night at the Wallaces, return to the ranch the next morning, then double back to the Wallaces Tuesday night for Christmas Eve. He’d stay through Christmas Day.

  He only hoped he would see his way clear by then.

  * * *

  At lunchtime, Caroline left the students in Louisa Wheeler’s charge and walked down Main Street for her meeting with the mayor and Reverend Chadwick at the mayor’s mansion.

  Gilmore House was festive with Christmas decorations. Candles stood in every windowsill, and a holly wreath hung over the brass door knocker. Inside, a wide red satin ribbon was wrapped around the mahogany banister on the stairway inside, interspersed with big red and green bows. A ribbon-topped ball of mistletoe hung from the archway leading into the dining room.

  It quite put the humble decorations at her house to shame, Caroline thought. Dan had cut down a juniper bush in the hills, and they’d draped it with strings of popcorn, and Pa had hung a ball of mistletoe in the parlor. After the debacle last evening between Jack and her, Caroline had quietly taken the mistletoe down.

  “I appreciate your seeing me, Mayor,” Caroline said, “especially this close to Christmas. Under the circumstances, I didn’t feel it could wait.”

  “Nonsense, Miss Caroline,” the older man said. “I’m happy to make myself available to our town’s schoolteacher at any time. Flora’s made some okra gumbo—come in and have some,” Mayor Gilmore said, beckoning her into the dining room after the housekeeper had let her in. “Reverend Chadwick’s already here. I knew you had to give up your mealtime at the school in order to meet with us, so I don’t want you to go hungry.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Once the housekeeper had served her a bowl of the thick soup, Caroline outlined her problem with the school superintendent.

  The mayor and the preacher listened carefully, interrupting with a question now and then. Mayor Gilmore tsk-tsked when she was through.

  “That old goat,” he grumbled. “Now that you’ve taken a stand, however, I doubt if he’ll bother you any further.”

  “I wonder if such behavior played a role in your predecessor’s decision to go into missionary work?” Reverend Chadwick mused. “If there’s even a hint of similar behavior in the future, Miss Caroline, you just come to me and I’ll have a talk with him.”

  “Yes, if he so much as looks as you cross-eyed, we’ll both speak to him. We’ll secede from the county school system, if need be.”

  Gilmore’s unexpected fierceness made her want to chuckle. “I hardly think it’ll come to that,” she told them. “I was just a little apprehensive, given that he plans to attend the Christmas recitation tonight.”

  “Then so will I,” Gilmore boomed. “He needs to see that Simpson Creek supports its schoolteachers, starting with its mayor.”

  “And I,” Chadwick said.

  Caroline couldn’t help but smile. The schoolhouse was going to be filled to overflowing tonight.

  A little while later, as she walked back toward the schoolhouse, she spotted Jack’s big chestnut gelding tied up in front of the mercantile.

  Was he doing his Christmas shopping? she wondered. Before Sunday night, she might have thought he was buying something that would be a reflection of the growing feelings between them. She had ruined all chance of that, for now, though her heart stubbornly held on to hope things would come right somehow. Surely, in time, Jack would realize she’d shown him no evidence she cared for Gil Chadwick.

  Abby and Amelia had finished their scarf for Jack on Saturday, with a little help from Caroline to join the two pieces. She was giving Jack one of her favorite books, The Last of the Mohicans, and woolen stockings she’d knitted herself, a real test of her skill with knitting needles. There’d been love in every row she’d completed, but Jack wouldn’t realize that. They’d keep his feet warm during those Montana winters, she thought, until eventually he wore them out and he forgot all about the schoolteacher he’d once met in Texas.

  Before Sunday, she might have tried to creep up to the window and spy into the mercantile in an attempt to see what Jack was buying. Now, though, she kept her gaze averted and remained on the opposite side of the street as she passed.

  * * *

  Several townspeople were looking around in the mercantile, though Jack was relieved to see none of them belonged to the Spinsters’ Club. He certainly didn’t want to have any witnesses who would report on his purchases to Caroline or any of the others. He knew Mrs. Patterson, the proprietress, from previous visits, but he could only hope she wouldn’t gossip.

  He looked around for a while at the well-stocked shelves. The girls were easy to buy for. He picked out a selection of hair ribbons, some candy and a couple of miniature rocking chairs for their dollies that would no doubt delight Amelia and Abby. He selected out ready-made shirts fo
r Mr. Wallace and his son and a red shawl for Mrs. Wallace, and added them to his growing pile on the front counter. But what should he buy Caroline?

  His eyes strayed to the velvet-lined box in the glass case that displayed several ladies’ rings, some set with garnet, pearl or onyx, some just plain gold or silver bands. She still wore the pearl ring Pete had given her, and which Jack had given back to her, but the ring he’d wanted to give Caroline was a plain gold band—a wedding band. No use thinking of that now.

  “Can I help you, Mr. Collier? We do have some lovely rings, as I see you’ve noticed. Would you like to inspect any more closely?”

  The shopkeeper’s inquisitive eyes, made larger by spectacles, betrayed her lively interest. She knew his children had been staying with the Wallaces. Did she also suspect the attraction that he felt for the schoolteacher?

  “Uh...maybe just those silver earbobs,” he said. “Something for the twins to give Miss Caroline,” he added, lest Mrs. Patterson get the wrong idea.

  Just then the bell over the door tinkled, announcing the arrival of another customer.

  “Well, good afternoon, Gil,” the shopkeeper greeted the newcomer. “Buying your Christmas presents?”

  “Yes,” the young preacher said. “I need to find something for my father.”

  “Well, you just look around,” Mrs. Patterson said. “Soon as I help Mr. Collier, I’ll be available if you need any assistance.”

  “No problem,” the other man said. “How are you, Jack?”

  “Just fine,” Jack said. He kept his tone cool and polite and didn’t look directly at the other man.

  He had to get out of here. He didn’t want to spend another minute in this store now that Gil Chadwick was in it. Would the presumptuous upstart dare to purchase something for Caroline?

  “I’ll take the gold shawl, too,” Jack said, wrenching his gaze away from the rings in the glass case. It would complement the gold flecks in the depths of Caroline Wallace’s fine eyes, he told himself. But a dull ache of disappointment told him it was not what his heart longed for him to buy.

  Chapter Twenty

  The little schoolhouse was packed to the rafters with people. Mothers and siblings sat at desks, on desks and on borrowed chairs brought in for the occasion. Many fathers stood along the walls.

  The entire program had gone well, as far as Jack could tell. Each performer was introduced by Caroline before they began. Abby and Amelia’s joint recital of their ABCs and their numbers from one to thirty had been perfect. Lizzie Halliday, the older girl who walked with the twins home from school when Caroline had to stay after school, sang “The First Noel” in a reedy soprano. Another young scholar recited the Christmas story from Luke 2 and only had to be prompted about the name of that Roman king who’d ordered the census; still another recited the Preamble to the Constitution. Billy Joe read the ending passage from A Christmas Carol by the same Charles Dickens fellow that had written A Tale of Two Cities. Many ladies wiped their eyes when the youth finished Tiny Tim’s “God Bless Us Everyone.”

  Finally, the entire student body gathered at the front to sing “Silent Night.”

  Throughout the entire performance, even when another little girl had a fit of giggles while reciting the times table, Caroline remained serene and confident. He was as proud of her as he was of Abby and Amelia.

  Before the recital had begun, Jack had spotted a red-cheeked middle-aged man who had to be the superintendent sitting by the door, a pompous expression on his face. His arms remained crossed over his paunch as he listened.

  That sidewinder better give Caroline credit for her hard work, Jack thought. Miss Wheeler, too.

  The superintendent happened to be standing by the mayor, an older man who had clapped enthusiastically after every child’s performance. Now, as the scholars and their teachers took their bows, the mayor called, “Bravo! Bravo!”

  The applause died away and the mayor stepped forward, saying, “On behalf of the residents of Simpson Creek, I’d like to thank Miss Caroline Wallace and her able assistant, Miss Louisa Wheeler, for this excellent exhibition of their teaching. I’m sure Superintendent Thurgood of San Saba County would like to join me in giving his unalloyed approval, wouldn’t you, sir?”

  All eyes turned to the red-cheeked man sitting by the door. “Of course, of course,” the man muttered, but he looked like he’d just tasted something awful.

  Jack smothered a grin. How could he have entertained the notion, even for a minute, that Caroline liked Thurgood?

  “Thank you, thank you,” Caroline was saying. “And now I hope you’ll all join us for punch and cookies.”

  As everyone else surged toward the refreshment table set up in the cloakroom, Jack noticed that Thurgood made a hasty exit, followed by Mr. Henderson.

  The air seemed cleaner after their exit.

  It was an hour before parents stopped coming to speak to Caroline, and she could finally lock the building. A few other families left at the same time, but Jack was aware of a prickly feeling on his neck. It was the same sensation a fellow got when someone was lining him up in sights.

  “What’s the matter?” Caroline asked at last, when he stopped and looked behind him a second time, just as they reached the road. “Who are you looking for?”

  Abby and Amelia were eyeing him curiously.

  “No one, I guess. Thought I heard something.”

  Caroline was looking at him suspiciously. He knew that prior to the incident between them Sunday night, she might have pressed the matter, but not now.

  He’d talk to her after the girls went to bed. But when he left his daughters’ room and looked in the parlor for Caroline, he found she had already gone to bed, too.

  There was no school the next day, for the students would be on holiday till after New Year’s. He’d find a way to talk to her in the morning.

  When he arose the next morning, however, she was already out of the house on some errand.

  * * *

  Jack was supposed to have come on Christmas Eve after supper, but he had not arrived when they’d left for the early evening Christmas Eve service.

  In a way it had been just as well, Caroline thought, though she’d missed him being with them. But she’d felt she needed the preacher’s reminder of what the holiday really meant. She’d realized that in the days leading up to Christmas Eve, she had become so absorbed in the relationship between herself and Jack, as well as in the school program, she had lost touch with the importance of Jesus’ coming to the world.

  Christmas Day dawned cold and cloudy. She even saw a few snowflakes drifting past the kitchen window as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Reckon it’ll stick?” Jack asked her, coming into the kitchen, “The girls have never seen snow.”

  He yawned, so sleep-rumpled she couldn’t help but smile. She shrugged. “We rarely get more than an inch or so, some years not even that.”

  The girls ran into the kitchen just then, and they were wide-eyed with wonder when Jack pointed at the window. Then, heedless of the cold, they raced to the door and threw it open, giggling at the touch of the unfamiliar flakes on their hands and their tongues.

  “Can we make a snowman, Papa?” Amelia said. “I always wanted to do that.”

  Jack chuckled. “I don’t think there’s enough to do that just yet, and it might quit before there is. Why not go to the parlor and see what Santa Claus left you?”

  They rushed back down the hall. Last night they’d each hung up a stocking on the mantel, borrowed from Aunt Mary—their own being too small—and these were now stuffed with apples, nuts, candy sticks and even a couple of precious oranges obtained from the mercantile. Now, too, there were presents wrapped in brown paper or scraps of cloth beneath the juniper Christmas tree. The girls crowed over these until Caroline’s mother insisted they have some breakfast.

  Later, they
all opened the packages. The twins squealed in delight over the doll chairs from their father, the two new dresses Aunt Mary had made them and the picture books Caroline had bought at the mercantile. They clapped at the jump rope Dan had fashioned out of a discarded length of rope with handles he had carved himself. Her parents seemed pleased about the new dishes Caroline had gotten them, as was her brother with the vest she had made.

  Jack opened up the package that Abby and Amelia had clumsily wrapped in a piece of green cloth left over from some sewing project and proclaimed himself the luckiest father in the world to be the recipient of such a muffler knit by not one, but two clever, skillful daughters.

  Then the Wallaces opened Jack’s presents. Her father and Dan thanked Jack for the shirts, and her mother went pink with pleasure over the red shawl. Caroline gave each of the twins a loud smacking kiss on the cheek for the silver earbobs. At last, only the presents to and from Jack and Caroline remained.

  As if by some unseen signal, the rest of the family dispersed, the twins to play with their new toys, Dan and his father to try on their shirts, her mother to start baking the ham for their Christmas dinner.

  He opened up her present first and smiled at the pair of stockings she had knit with such care, and the book she had selected from her own.

  “Thank you, Caroline,” he said, and their gazes locked. There was so much in his blue eyes—but mostly she saw regret. Quickly she looked back at the brown paper-wrapped bundle in her lap.

  “Caroline, I—I wish...” he began, and then his voice trailed off as she began to unwrap it.

  It was a shawl, just like the one he had given her mother, only gold. Caroline waited for him to tell her something, anything that would tell her how much she meant to him, but apparently he couldn’t—or wouldn’t. She could appreciate the beauty of the shawl and knew the color would become her, but since it was the same thing he had given her mother, she realized the significance of the gift—or rather, the lack of it. He’d bought it as thanks for caring for his daughters, nothing more.