The Cheyenne Mail Order Bride Romanced by the Ranch

by Iris Kelly

  “If a man gets a little too friendly, kick him in the shins. If that don’t work, aim higher,” Miss Mabel had said. Which was followed by her inimitable cackle.

  The walk was time to reflect on how to approach a most disturbing task ahead. Lydia knew she needed advice. Ranching advice. Not only for the purchase, but for a multitude of questions that would arise in the coming days. And, unfortunately, she was only acquainted with one rancher: Giles Cooper.

  She had no idea how she was going to overcome her embarrassment and distress to face him again. But the incontrovertible fact was that he was to be her neighbor. As she entered the boardinghouse and reached the parlor entrance, the matter had been taken out of her hands, for there he was, rising from his seat and hastily removing his hat. Lydia froze, unprepared for such an immediate encounter.

  “Mrs. Maxwell. I have been wanting to speak with you ever since . . . I can only offer my deepest apologies for what you have been put through. I am prepared to do everything in my power to be of whatever assistance I can. I assume you had to pay for a train ticket to get out here?”

  “No. You paid for it, or so I believed, as is the custom for the groom in these situations. No, Mr. Cooper. I have not been damaged by that expense. It is fitting that neither you nor I should shoulder that burden.”

  “Yes, but I absolutely insist that I pay for your return ticket to Boston. The Cooper family owes you at least that much.”

  “I am done with Boston. And there is no turning back. Please have a seat, Mr. Cooper.”

  His eyes widened with surprise, but he waited for her to sit down and then followed suit.

  “You have decided to stay with your niece, Mrs. Maxwell?”

  “I intend to buy the Ainsley Ranch. Though I suppose now it will become the Maxwell Ranch. I need your help to understand what a fair price is for her herd and property. I believe she made you an offer?”

  Giles leapt out of his seat. “What do you intend to do with a ranch?”

  “Just the usual things, Mr. Cooper. Raise cattle. Sell them to market.”

  “I thought you had lost your mind when you said we were to be married. But that was all ’cause of a terrible deceit. But now, I think you are out of your mind. You don’t know the first thing about ranchin’.”

  “How can you say that, when we talked of nothing but ranching business for three days? And besides, Mrs. Ainsley is elderly. What does she know of ranching? Or Mrs. Sinclair, who I hear has been running her own ranch for five years now. With experienced, trustworthy employees, they managed just fine. And I intend to do the same.”

  “This is pure insanity. I have no need of Mrs. Ainsley’s property and no desire to expand my own. But now, I have half a mind to buy it, just to prevent you from making the most foolish mistake I ever heard of.”

  “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare even think to take this away from me! This is my second chance at life, my only chance. I will not be cheated of it.”

  “You can’t just have an idea, and then just start livin’ a whole different way. A lady from the East like you.”

  “I intend to prove otherwise. Now, you came here to say that you would do anything in your power to help, and I will hold you to it. I would not be here were it not for the Cooper family. So tell me—do you mean to keep your word?”

  Giles took in several long breaths, scowling at the obstinate woman before him. Eventually, with a sigh, he lowered himself back into his seat.

  “I keep my word.”

  “Good. How many head of cattle does Mrs. Ainsley have?”

  “She sold off quite a bit these last couple years. I think she’s down to six or seven hundred head.”

  “What is her property worth, cattle and all? A fair price, now. I have no desire to cheat her.”

  “Her whole outfit’s gotta be worth $20,000, maybe $22,000. You got that kinda money?”

  Lydia smiled. “I do.”

  In fact, her late husband’s cash estate amounted to just over $50,000, more than enough for Lydia to exist on for the rest of her days. But she wanted to do so much more than just exist.

  “I appreciate your assistance in this matter. I may need to call on you from time to time, when other questions arise. I hope that we may come to be good neighbors.”

  Giles shook his head in defeat. There was clearly nothing he could say to talk her out of this confounding plan. He rose to leave.

  “I just wanted to say, I sure hope you didn’t take it personal, me not wanting to get married again. That, uh, that had nothin’ to do with you or who you are. If a man was of a mind to get married, then, obviously . . . but, I’m not. I had near thirty years of marriage and raisin’ children, and no man has ever been happier. After you’ve had one complete and perfect life, you don’t need another.”

  Lydia stared at him resentfully. “And what if you haven’t had one yet?”

  The woman that Giles had met at his ranch had been so full of life and optimism. And beauty. It had never occurred to him that she might have led anything but a charmed life—and a sheltered, Eastern one at that. He wanted to know more but knew it wasn’t his place to ask.

  Lydia tried to rein in her anger. Mr. Cooper was no more to blame for how events had unfolded than she. He had demonstrated a willingness to help. That was all she could ask for. Giles departed in a state of bewilderment, and Lydia was left to dwell on the one critical shortcoming of her plan to live happily in a ranch house. She would be in that house alone.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lydia sat in the very back row of the church with Lewis and Virginia, who wanted to be able to make a quick exit in case the baby started crying. But little Felicity must have found the sermon soothing, and at the same time, completely uninteresting. She slept quite peacefully. Meanwhile, Lydia was fixated on the back of Widow Ainsley’s head. The person on which all her hopes depended now. Lydia noticed how Lewis looked around the church uncomfortably and gave her a concerned glance. What could be wrong?

  In the churchyard, there was a long line of friendly faces waiting to offer congratulations for the new baby and to take a quick look at her. Lewis stayed for a few moments, then allowed Virginia to do the honors as he pulled Lydia aside. He pointed in the direction of Mrs. Ainsley; she was talking to a very attractive young man, who was smiling and looking most attentive.

  “Herman Baldwin,” Lewis said.

  “That name sounds familiar.”

  “He once wanted to marry my wife. And today, he most certainly wants to buy your ranch. And he’s got the money to outbid you. No doubt about that.”

  “Oh, Lewis. Oh, no. What am I going to do?”

  “Stay here.”

  Lewis made a beeline for the widow and Mr. Baldwin.

  “That’s a very generous offer, Mr. Baldwin. But I promised my dear neighbor, Mr. Cooper, that I would seek his advice before making a final decision,” Mrs. Ainsley said.

  “Of course, Mrs. Ainsley. I have no doubt you’ll get the assurance you need that I’m offering you top dollar,” Herman Baldwin said.

  From behind them, Lewis announced, “I can beat that offer, and top it with a rhubarb pie. If you’ll be so kind to join us for supper, Mrs. Ainsley.”

  “Mr. Carlyle, how kind. I certainly would love to.”

  The men eyed one another warily. “This isn’t really your neighborhood, is it, Mr. Baldwin? Perhaps you got lost,” Lewis taunted.

  “I heard many fine things about the sermon and people of this fine congregation, and I felt compelled to . . . at any rate, it was pure serendipity that a friend of mine mentioned that Mrs. Ainsley here was selling her ranch. But surely, you were joking about buying it. You cannot have restored your losses.”

  Lewis glanced back at his wife and baby in a manner that Baldwin couldn’t fail to take note of. “I stand before you a fully restored man. The buyer in question is my wife’s aunt. May I have the pleasure of introducing you, Mrs. Ainsley?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m happy to meet any family of the
Carlyles.”

  With a triumphant smirk, Lewis led Mrs. Ainsley back toward his family. Herman Baldwin fumed helplessly.

  Introductions. A delicious lamb dinner at the Carlyle residence, followed by that rhubarb pie, both courtesy of Miss Mabel. And in no time at all, Lydia found herself in lawyer Avery Martin’s office, hammering out the fine points of a purchase agreement.

  Avery was thirty-five years old and quite handsome, with keen gray eyes, a remarkably square jaw, and a mastery of the arts of logic and persuasion.

  “Would you like to have the specifics of the furniture included?” Avery asked.

  “Oh, she must simply take whatever she needs and I will supplement what is left behind,” Lydia said.

  “And have you taken a complete survey of the property, and seen exactly where the boundaries lie?”

  “No. But that’s rather important, I’m sure.”

  “And how many employees does Mrs. Ainsley have?”

  “Ten throughout the year, but more are taken on for the roundups.”

  “Have you met them?”

  “Not yet. Oh, Mr. Martin. I know I am walking into this with little preparation, but I am determined to make a go of it.”

  Avery sighed. “Well, if you have the time this afternoon, why don’t we run out and find these property boundaries? And perhaps you’ll be able to meet your new crew as well.”

  “That would be wonderful! I can’t believe your generosity.”

  “Well, Lewis Carlyle is a very good friend of mine. And Mrs. Carlyle has become a good friend as well. And you are her aunt, so . . .”

  Lydia smiled. “So we are involuntarily required to become friends?”

  “Precisely. Shall we? We can probably even sign the papers with Mrs. Ainsley right after we’ve seen the property.”

  Lydia shivered with excitement. It was all happening so quickly. In the space of little more than one week, her dreams had been shattered and then resurrected.

  *****

  The ride around the property took over two hours and only reinforced Lydia’s fervor for the plains and a ranch kingdom of her own.

  After the papers had been signed, it was nearing dinner time and Mrs. Ainsley took Lydia and Avery out near the bunkhouse to meet the foreman and crew.

  “Mrs. Maxwell, this is Wade Callahan, the foreman.”

  “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Callahan.”

  “Wade is fine, ma’am,” he said.

  “Why don’t you introduce her to everyone?” Mrs. Ainsley suggested.

  “Happy to. This here’s Stuart, Allan, Curtiss, Reggie . . .”

  Lydia tried to greet them enthusiastically, but she couldn’t fail to notice their lack of enthusiasm for her. It couldn’t have been more different than the day that she met the crew on Giles’s ranch. There had been smiles, flirtatious appreciation, shyness, flattery—in short, they had been tickled pink to have a lady in their midst. Here, if she had to assess the mood, she would have had to call it bemused and at the same time, dismissive. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being tolerated, rather than receiving the regard that would be due to one’s employer.

  Were they angry at the prospect of working for a lady? But Mrs. Ainsley was a lady, and she had spoken of her foreman and crew in the highest terms. Perhaps it was her Boston origins that were the stumbling block. Mr. Cooper had as much as said that she had no right to be here. Well, however long it took, she was going to have to win them over.

  “Mrs. Ainsley is having her things moved out by Thursday. I’ll be over first thing on Friday morning to settle in. I’ll probably be fully moved in by early next week. I think it would be best for me to get a feel for the ranch’s schedule if we could meet once a day, and you could keep me apprised of what has been accomplished, any issues or difficulties, and what the agenda is for the following day’s activities.”

  It had seemed an elementary request, particularly in light of the fact that Lydia had just parted with $22,000 to become the owner of this business. Not to mention that she would be paying all salaries now. But Wade couldn’t fully hide his condescension.

  “We got a lot to tend to, but when it’s convenient, I’d be happy to give you a right nice progress report.”

  There were a few soft snickers, but they went undetected by Mrs. Ainsley.

  “Wade, don’t forget to show Mrs. Maxwell the accountin’ book. I sure won’t have much use for it now,” Mrs. Ainsley said. She turned to Lydia. “I never could make heads or tails of that thing. No head for numbers whatsoever. Wade here has always taken care of that for me.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure do. You don’t have to worry about that, Mrs. Maxwell.”

  “I am glad to hear it. But I do look forward to seeing it. I got a quite a bit of experience looking over my late husband’s financial statements, and it will help me to understand what kind of records I should be keeping here.”

  Again, Lydia felt herself the object of close and unfriendly scrutiny. She was going to have to establish a good working relationship with her foreman as soon as possible, for it would no doubt greatly improve her interactions with all the other men.

  Avery had stood by silently, allowing Lydia to assert her rights as the new owner. Now, he touched her on the shoulder. “We’d best be getting back to town, Mrs. Maxwell.”

  “Yes, it has been a long day, but a very good one. I look forward to seeing all of you again soon. Mrs. Ainsley, are you in need of assistance for your move to town?”

  “Oh, that’s sweet of you to ask. No, Mr. Carlyle, Mr. Cooper, and a bunch of men from the church are gonna help me get the furniture to my new house in town. This place is gonna need quite a cleanin’ afterwards. I’ll do what I can, but . . .”

  Lydia was aware of the older woman’s arthritis difficulties, in addition to the other complications of age. “Do not trouble yourself. Cleaning out a house will be the least of my challenges.”

  No one present needed to know that Lydia had never actually had occasion to clean out a house. But how hard could it be? After Avery helped her back into the wagon, he looked apprehensively at the crew, still milling around before their meal. “Keep a firm hand, Mrs. Maxwell. Reward a job well done, but never let him think that this is his place. It is yours.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Martin. But everything appears to run very smoothly. If an elderly lady like Mrs. Ainsley can accomplish that, I have no doubt that I can do the same.”

  Avery nodded, unconvinced. Lydia understood his uneasiness, but she refused to share it. She was going to make this dream come true, to make up for all those that were beyond her reach.

  *****

  At the Cooper Ranch, Giles had only to lift an eyebrow to have his men scrambling to execute his latest order. It wasn’t that he was harsh, but he was a hard worker, with exacting standards, and he expected no less of his men. He had been in the ranching business since being hired on as a grunt at the age of fifteen. He went on his first cattle drive for the first time the following year. Being a rancher was his place in the world, and he was grateful that life had led him in that direction.

  His thoughts turned to Lydia. What on earth was leading her life in this same direction? She came from a soft world of servants and ballrooms. She couldn’t possibly have done a hard day’s work in her life. And ranching was demanding, in every way and on everyone. This was a hard life, and she was a woman on her own. What a foolish thing for her to take on.

  What a peculiar determination she had. His late wife, Emily, had accommodated herself to his profession, and she sacrificed and supported him in every way a wife ought. But she had no real love of ranching. She took no interest in the details of the business beyond how it affected his own moods. She certainly had never shown any concern for the particulars of a well-organized chuck wagon.

  Fanny’s approach first disrupted his thoughts, then perpetuated them. She also had Mrs. Maxwell on her mind.

  “It’s all my doin’, that she’s here. I know that. And I owe h
er anything I can do to help. Anything that she needs. ’Specially since her only kin here has a newborn baby and can’t be of too much assistance. She ain’t got too many folks to lean on here, Pa. Just us and the Carlyles, and Miss Mabel.”

  “Which one of you, I wonder, gave her this darn fool idea?”

  “Probably the one who likes ranchin’ so much, he made it look like a good time,” Fanny said. “In any case, I’ll be spendin’ as much time as I can these next few days givin’ her a hand. I do owe her that. Now, let me go put supper on.”

  As Giles watched his daughter walk away, he was reminded that soon enough, she would be walking away for good. To spend her life with a boy that Giles barely knew. And how well could Fanny possibly know him? A few dances at a hoedown. A few charming conversations, no doubt. So many girls chose badly and were stuck with a lazy or brutish man for the rest of their lives.

  There was no stopping two young people who wanted to get married. That much he had witnessed time and time again, including six of his other seven children, as well as with his own marriage at the tender age of nineteen. He perfectly recalled the feelings of certainty and resolve and the head over heels sensation so keenly felt at that age.

  No, Fanny was headed down the aisle, and he had no right to try and stop her. But how he wished he could have put off this moment for another five or six or seven years. He had a quick image of himself alone in the sitting room in the evenings. A solitary evening. After a solitary meal. Night after night. Until his days were ended.

  And so it must be. This was how life winds down. It shrinks and shrinks and becomes a small, meaningless thing before it ends. At least that’s how his own life would play out. But Giles never lost sight of that long stretch of good years. He carried them around as the best of his possessions. Mrs. Maxwell again intruded on his thoughts. So determined to begin a whole new life. He certainly wouldn’t dream of attempting such a thing at her age. But was it she who lacked his wisdom, or was it he who lacked her courage?

  *****