The Cheyenne Mail Order Bride Romanced by the Ranch

by Iris Kelly

  They both ordered the special of the day, roast beef.

  “Do you ever get tired of beef?” Lydia wondered.

  “We don’t eat it as often as folks assume. It’s been eighty-six dollars a head since last fall. That is one expensive barbeque. Fanny’s in charge of the cookin’. She’s partial to mutton. Picks up a couple of chickens every month. And beans. No shortage of beans.”

  “Are you . . . will you be cooking for yourself after she gets married?”

  “I already started askin’ around for a housekeeper. Ain’t the same as havin’ a daughter around, of course.”

  “No. I know you’ll miss her. But there’s every reason to be happy for her.”

  “Is there?”

  “Haven’t you gotten a chance to know Ned?”

  “No, I have not. She had him over for dinner once now. He’s on his best behavior, of course. But what does that prove? I think they ought to take it slow, take some real time to know each other.”

  “Let’s put aside for a moment that you yourself were engaged after a month. Yes, I was listening very carefully. But did you notice how he treats her? How he feels about her?”

  “He was pretty sweet on her. But why wouldn’t he be? She’s pretty and good-natured, and has a bit of fire in her. But just ’cause she’s gonna make a good wife, don’t mean he’s gonna make a good husband.”

  “Well, to start with the essentials, he’s a talented carpenter, who will never find himself short of work. And he’s learning stonecutting. He’s putting himself in a very good position for future options. He’ll provide for her and their children well, no question about it.”

  “That’s all well and good . . . but there’s other considerations.”

  “There’s exactly one other consideration. Your daughter is loved, Mr. Cooper. As thoroughly as she deserves to be. So I hope you decide to favor them with your approval.”

  “You really think he deserves her?”

  “I think they are both very, very lucky.”

  “They better stay in Cheyenne, that’s all I gotta say. If he even thinks about takin’ her away, I will . . . deal with him in ways unsuited to speak of in such elegant company. I already lost my oldest that way. Hannah. She’s been out in San Francisco for seven years. Got three grandchildren by her and I ain’t ever seen a single one. Oh, she’s good with writin’ letters. She had a photograph taken last year. I’ll show it to you when we get back.”

  Lydia had not yet mentioned her plan to adopt children from the orphan train to Mr. Cooper—or to anyone, for that matter. Miss Mabel was the only one who knew. But the previous night, when she had found out that Mr. Cooper had been an orphan himself, she had resolved to tell him at the first good opportunity.

  “Your family is an inspiration, Mr. Cooper. And Willie’s family. Virginia’s baby. That’s a part of life I have no desire to miss. As soon as I have settled in, I intend to meet up with the orphan train and to become a mother to children who need me as much as I need them. A boy, somewhere around ten years of age, and a baby as well. A baby who will never have known any mother besides myself. A girl would be nice.”

  Giles hadn’t thought there was anything more Lydia could do to leave him speechless. She dug into her meal to give him time to collect his thoughts.

  “Just like that? You’re gonna get some young’uns, like pickin’ up barbed wire or grain seed?”

  “I am forty years of age. Nothing in my life has happened ‘just like that’, certainly not in the last few months. I work and fight and trade and sacrifice for everything I have. And I think I have earned some right to happiness. If I haven’t already, then this will be my best chance—to love a child who has given up all hope of being loved.”

  The strange thing is, I haven’t so much as laid eyes on them . . . I don’t know their names, I can’t make out their faces, and I am beginning to love them already. We will devote ourselves to one another, and deprive no one in the process, for none of us was wanted elsewhere.” Lydia took note of Giles’s somber mood. “It is a joyous thing, Mr. Cooper. Won’t you help me celebrate?”

  Giles was experiencing a feeling so unfamiliar to him that he could hardly put a name to it. But if he had to guess, he might call it envy. He had reconciled himself to living in a quiet, disturbingly empty house, and here was Mrs. Maxwell, who had the vision and grit to get herself the ranch she wanted and the children she had dreamed of.

  A baby, no less. That was the very opposite of a quiet house. Noisy children, clamoring for attention, full of endless questions, seeing everything for the first time. Yes, he envied her. What glorious moments were ahead. He raised his glass of cider for a toast.

  “I wish you the best of happiness, Mrs. Maxwell. Of course they’ll love you.” Who wouldn’t?

  Lydia accepted his good wishes gratefully. What an unexpected friendship, and all for the best. He could never have been the husband she needed. After witnessing the affection between Virginia and Lewis and the giddy excitement between Fanny and Ned, Lydia knew that she would rather do without than settle for anything less than full and passionate devotion. So, friendship was the logical and satisfying extent of her relationship with Giles. How relieved he would be to know that she had fully given up her silly matrimonial delusions.

  *****

  Back in Cheyenne, Giles continued his neighborly helpfulness by escorting Lydia to a meeting of the Wyoming Stock Growers Association, a group representing the interests of all the ranchers in the territory. In fact, in almost all respects, they acted as the de facto government as Wyoming awaited statehood, setting the rules that all landowners and stock growers had to abide by and fighting when powerful railroad interests and ranching interests were at odds.

  Giles only attended meetings sporadically; he had little patience for the politicking and displays of ego. But Lydia hadn’t wanted to miss out on anything that might be critical for her success as a rancher. And they were both aware that Giles’s presence at her side would smooth over the discomforts of her likely being the only lady present.

  She received quite a bit of attention. Rumors quickly circulated that Giles Cooper must be taking on a new wife, for why else would a lady be there? Lydia listened attentively, asking a barrage of questions to whoever seemed receptive to an interrogation. Some of the gentlemen were flattered by having their advice sought. Others, once aware that she owned a herd and would be taking her cattle to market alongside them, wanted to make sure that she didn’t act in ignorance to hurt their interests.

  “If one rancher should flood the market with too many head of cattle, it’s gonna lower the price for us all. We have a mutual interest in controlling the supply. And besides, you’re never gonna want to sell more in a year than you can replace with your calves. That’s gonna be about ten percent of your herd,” one pontificating rancher advised.

  On more than one occasion, a miffed gentleman came up to her and said they hadn’t realized Widow Ainsley’s outfit had been up for sale. They clearly wished they had beaten Lydia to the property. Now, they hoped to smoothly assure her that should the burdens of ownership become overwhelming, that they would be happy to buy it out from her. Giles could only smile and hold his tongue at these futile efforts. If there was a soul in the room who could never be parted from their land, it was Lydia Maxwell.

  Since the last day of their trip to Pine Bluffs, Giles had undergone a small but significant change of heart. He had long been committed to keeping Mrs. Maxwell from harm and providing any assistance he was able. Now he wanted more than anything for her to succeed. He wanted her make a real go of it and do as well as any other rancher in the territory—and wipe the smug condescension of some of these men right off their faces and provide a real home and thriving business for the family that she would soon have.

  As he watched her navigate through the crowd, standing her ground, relentlessly gathering information, and skillfully deflecting all potential hostility, he felt the most irrational swell of pride. He realized t
hat he had never been more proud of anyone in his life. And that was quite something coming from a man with eight talented and well-loved children.

  Lydia was soaking up information as fast as it was thrown at her. But something at the back of her mind kept nagging at her.

  “The same price is negotiated for everyone? All cattle are sold at the same price?” she asked. “Some don’t get better prices because they are better negotiators?”

  “Same price. We are all in this boat together,” a gentleman assured her. “And you couldn’t have entered the market at a better time. Prices have been at eighty-six a head since last fall. Good times for everyone.”

  Lydia looked over at Giles and nodded toward the door. It was time to go.

  *****

  It was the first time Giles had actually been inside the house since Lydia had moved in. It was now sparsely furnished, but with cheerful yellow curtains and several bright fabric touches throughout. He waited curiously as Lydia flipped agitatedly through a worn accounting ledger.

  “Here it is. I knew I remembered this figure. Mr. Cooper, can you tell me why Mrs. Ainsley would be receiving eighty-two dollars per head of cattle last fall when everyone else in town was receiving eighty-six?”

  “Here, let me have a look at that,” Giles said.

  Lydia pointed out the date and the price column for him.

  “Eight-two. That’s not makin’ any sense.”

  “And look here.” Lydia flipped to an earlier page. “The July before that. Eighty-two dollars. Do you remember what the price was?”

  “I sure do. It was eighty-five . . . did you go over these books with Mrs. Ainsley?”

  “No. She said she had no head for numbers. She let the foreman, Wade Callahan, take care of the books.”

  “Oh, he took care of them all right. He sold for eighty-five and gave her eighty-two. Three dollars skimmed off per head. And then this fall, he decided he needed a raise. Four dollars a head. He may have taken two hundred and forty, two hundred and fifty dollars off her just this year alone. He’s no better than a rustler. And at Mrs. Ainsley’s expense! I’m gonna go out there right now and . . .” Giles’s fists clenched.

  “Mr. Cooper. I am just wondering who else knew about this? Who can be trusted? They all behave so strangely around me. Are they all in on this, or are some of them innocent?”

  “Ain’t no way of tellin’. But the foreman’s the one who handles the money. That’s for sure.”

  “I know who can tell us. Ajax. Ajax Harper. Miss Mabel’s nephew. I asked him to keep his ears open for me in the bunkhouse. But I didn’t want the men to see that we had any special acquaintance, so I haven’t had a chance to speak to him since we got back. He might know something or have heard something. I don’t want to accuse any innocent men, but I can’t keep them on if they’re thieves.”

  “Well, you talk to him right quick. There’s a sale in one week. And you’ll be getting’ your full profit, Mrs. Maxwell. One way or the other.”

  Giles was fuming with rage. He wanted to put a fist through Wade Callahan’s face, and that was just for starters. Stealing from a widow, and getting ready to steal from another. Just as bad as horse thievery, which was not tolerated at all in these parts. Lydia was comforted to see that she wouldn’t have to weather this storm alone. If the worst turned out to be true, she was going to be severely outnumbered by the bad guys.

  *****

  Miss Mabel handed Lydia a letter. “What do I look like—the Postal Service? How come he works for you, but cain’t tell you somethin’ direct?”

  “Because my men may be up to no good, Miss Mabel. And I can’t have them know that Ajax is keeping an eye on things for me.”

  “Sounds like trouble to me,” Miss Mabel said. “I thought you were just goin’ to give him some hard work. Nice and dull and and no shady characters.”

  Lydia tore open Ajax’s letter.

  “You were right. They don’t give you credit for much smarts. They talk like they own this place and you’re just the patsy who hands out the checks. But something else. Your men gamble a lot. And they lose a lot. But they get credit and run up some big tabs, and everyone lets them. That’s the strange thing. Why would you trust that a man can pay back more than he makes in a month, with his next month’s salary?

  They do seem to keep a good eye on the cattle.”

  Why shouldn’t they keep a close eye on the cattle? Lydia thought grimly. Every head was worth four dollars to them. She quickly penned a message back for Ajax, hoping he would be by in the next day or two. She didn’t want him to jeopardize himself, but it would help so much if he could find out something more definitive.

  Her next stop was the Sheriff’s office. She had the ledger with her and showed Sheriff Ted Johnson the information in the ledger.

  “This is troublin’,” Sheriff Johnson said. “I ain’t gonna tell you it’s not. But we got two problems here. Bringin’ ten men into custody. My deputy just up and quit. There’s two more Sheriff’s offices, but we usually only call on each other if there’s been a killin’. I’m fairly doubtful of rustlin’ up any enthusiasm for puttin’ their necks on the line ’cause a rich widow got a little less money than she was due.”

  “And if they had stolen a horse!?” Lydia asked incredulously.

  “I take your point. We have a history of dealin’ pretty harshly with such offenses. But, I’m brought to my second point: evidence. This’ll do against Callahan. But what you got against the others, besides bein’ bad poker players?”

  Lydia rose irately. “I’ll be back with that evidence, Sheriff Johnson.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid you will. Don’t forget, Mrs. Maxwell. There’s ten of them.”

  Who, if accused, would become ten angry, desperate, and violent men, the sheriff had implied. What on earth was she going to do?

  *****

  A veritable council meeting had gathered in Miss Mabel’s parlor, consisting of Miss Mabel, Ajax, Lydia, Giles, Virginia, holding little Felicity, Lewis, Avery, Willie, Fanny, and Ned.

  “We all here now. Tell us what they said, Ajax,” Miss Mabel demanded.

  “There’s six hundred and twenty-two head in the herd. But Wade put down six hundred seventeen, five head short. I sneaked a look in his book while everyone was at breakfast. I think they plan on tellin’ Mrs. Maxwell that they’re takin’ sixty head to market, when they’re actually takin’ the extra five and pocketin’ the difference.”

  “Five head. That’s four hundred and thirty dollars!” Giles marveled.

  “And still skimming another four dollars off per head,” Avery noted. “Mr. Harper, are you sure about this?”

  “Real sure. They joke about it all the time right in front of me, thinkin’ I don’t know what’s goin’ on. It’s not the new fellas, though. The three new guys who got hired just to put up the feed fence—they don’t know what’s goin’ on. But everyone else, all the other guys, they just can’t wait for next week’s payday.”

  “There are ten of them,” Lydia said.

  Miss Mabel looked around. “And they’s ten of us.”

  They all looked at one another, gathering strength and determination.

  “Mr. Harper, why don’t you and I go over to the Sheriff’s office and tell him what you know?” said Avery.

  The group nodded agreement, and Avery and Ajax quickly departed.

  “Oh, Aunt Lydia. I’m so sorry all this is happening to you,” said Virginia.

  “With such good friends, I have every intention to prevail. Although, Mr. Cooper, I don’t know who’s going to look after my cattle.”

  “Pa, ain’t there somethin’ we can do?” asked Fanny.

  Giles looked over at Ned distrustfully. “Can you handle a rifle?

  “Yes, sir. I sure can.”

  Lydia shivered. This was beginning to sound very dangerous, and she could never forgive herself if anything happened to these kind people here. Particularly Mr. Cooper, who was undeniably fearless and determined to p
rotect her best interests. But if anything terrible should happen to him—nothing was worth that. Not even her ranch.

  *****

  Giles approached his ranch hands.

  “You men remember Mrs. Maxwell?”

  “What? You mean the really pretty lady, who was smart, and treated every one real good, and who was interested in everythin’, and who was as sweet as can be, and who no man in his right mind would ever turn down if she wanted to marry him?” Zeke goaded. The other men hooted and laughed.

  Giles scowled. Darn that Fanny. His employees did not need to know that much about his private business. He walked up to Zeke until they were nearly toe to toe.

  “She needs our help,” Giles said.

  From the tone of Giles’s voice, there was no mistaking what kind of help was needed. Some of the men unconsciously reached for the tip of their guns. Zeke nodded his agreement. Giles knew they could be counted on. It was going to be imperative to have the numbers on their side.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Lydia’s ranch hands watched curiously as she approached with a strange man, who was hauling some strange, heavy equipment over his shoulder.

  “Good morning,” Lydia said cheerfully. “This is Mr. Wheeler. He’s a photographer who has a shop in town. My family back in Boston takes such a strong interest in what the ranch looks like that I promised to send them pictures. You all may think it’s a bit silly, but it would please them no end. So, after breakfast, I’d like to have you all together for a group portrait in front of the bunkhouse.”

  “I’ll go get set up right now,” Mr. Wheeler said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Wheeler. So, how about it? Oh, and as a special thank you, he’s going to take everyone’s individual portrait, and that will be yours to keep. My treat. I believe those can be rather expensive, and it’s something you can send to your family.”

  The men all looked over to Wade to see what he thought. He shrugged.