The Wrangler’s Mail Order Bride
Wild West Frontier Brides Series
Cindy Caldwell
Contents
Copyright
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
The End
Copyright 2015, Cindy Caldwell
All rights reserved
Cover designed by:
http://edhgraphics.blogspot.com
This book would not exist without the help, wisdom, guidance and encouragement of Kirsten Osbourne and Ashley Merrick. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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The Wrangler’s Mail-Order Bride is a work of fiction. Characters and events in this novel are the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
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Chapter 1
Clara looked up at the gray, dreary sky and held out her hand, watching as the snowflakes settled on her palm. She wished she’d known it was going to snow this hard when she’d left for work at the bakery. She would have grabbed her winter hat, but this early spring snowstorm had come as a surprise.
To everybody, she guessed, as she closed the door of the bakery behind her and looked up to see the horses pulling the delivery wagon stomping their feet, their breath coming out in great bursts of white.
“Oh,” she said under her breath as she looked around, wondering what had happened to the driver, and why he’d left the horses so long that they had clumps of snowflakes in their manes that were turning to ice. She imagined that the storm had caught them, too, with no time to put blankets on the horses to stave off the cold.
Pulling on her gloves, she walked to the two chestnut brown horses hitched up to the delivery wagon. As she approached the horses, they turned toward her, slowed their stomping and quieted. “There’s a good horse,” she said as she stroked their noses and patted their manes, pulling out as much ice as she could and tossing it to the ground.
When she’d gotten out as much ice as she could, she stroked their heads again. “It’s too cold for you to be standing here. I’m going to look for your owner.”
Their reins hung on a post at the side of the street and she spun in a circle, searching for the owner of the wagon. The wooden back was covered with a tarp, making it impossible to see what the items were that were being delivered. Clapping her hands together to keep warm, she walked to the back of the wagon and tried to lift up a corner of the tarp to see what was inside and maybe get a hint to where the driver might be. As she lifted the corner of the tarp and leaned down to peek under it, the cases of beer bottles flashed in the light and she stood quickly, taking a step back toward the wall. “All right. Beer. Now, where might that…”
She turned to her right. Light, music and loud voices spilled out from the saloon next to the bakery. She normally did her best to ignore it, as her brother, Robert, had specified that as a requirement for her to take the job at this bakery after her friend, Sadie, had closed the bakery she’d worked in since she was in school and had left for Arizona to get married.
She took a quick look back to the horses, one of them turning its ears in her direction. Breathing deeply, she walked over to the saloon, almost sure the horses’ owner was inside. If he is, he shouldn’t be. Heat rose in her cheeks as she hesitated outside the door, peering inside with the top of her bonnet pulled down. It wouldn’t do for her to be recognized here.
Close to the door, men laughed, and she could make out a few of their words.
“Charlie, pour me another, would you? I’ve got a little time before I need to get this load of beer to the next stop,” a man’s voice said.
Her blood boiling now, she looked back at the horses as they stomped their feet even harder and started to whinny, tugging at the reins that held them in place under the frosty onslaught of snow and ice.
Standing as tall as she could, she squared her shoulders and took a step toward the voice, hoping against hope that no one she knew would see her. But what choice did she have? Right was right, and it was not right to leave dependent animals out in the cold with no way for them to find shelter.
The brim of her bonnet covered her eyes as she strode to the sound of the man’s voice she’d heard moments before. As she looked up, she stood in front of a tall, burly man leaning against the bar, a bottle of beer in his hand.
She cleared her throat and said, “Sir, are those your horses hitched to the delivery wagon out front?”
His eyes widened with surprise and he looked from Clara out the door and back to her, his chin jutting out as he folded his arms across his chest. “Maybe yes, maybe no. What’s it to you, young lady?”
Her heart beat faster as she pulled back her bonnet and looked up at him. “They are very cold, sir. Their manes are full of ice, although I removed what I could. It’s snowing even harder now and they need to be sheltered, somewhere warm.” Her face flushed as the words came out in a rush.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. They’re fine. Now run along home, little lady, while I finish my drink. I’ll get to them right quick.” He turned and winked to the man sitting next to him as he laughed.
“They are not fine, sir. This is…this is…just not right.” Clara’s fists clenched at her sides as she fumed. How could anyone be so…cruel?
The man burst into laughter again, nudging his friend with his elbow. “Now how do you know that? Did they tell you?”
Clara gasped, thinking yes, in some way, they did let her know they were freezing. “That’s fine, sir. I’ll just take care of it on my own,” she said before turning on her heel and stalking out of the saloon.
As she marched down the stairs and toward the horses, all she could think of was that they needed to be warm. That they deserved to be taken care of.
She didn’t exactly have a plan. Had no idea where she would take the horses. All she knew was that she couldn’t walk the short distance home and leave them there.
She didn’t even look back at the saloon as she walked to the hitching post. “Don’t you worry. We’ll think of something. Maybe Robert will let you…”
“Hey! Hey! Take your hands off my horses.”
She held her breath and turned toward the saloon door as the man she’d been talking to rushed down the stairs and ran in her direction.
She dropped the reins she’d been holding, saying to the horses as she quickly patted their noses, “It’ll be all right now,” before she turned and ran in the opposite direction, ducking behind the corner of the bakery she’d left not long before. She leaned against the wall until her breath evened out again a
nd her heart stopped thudding in her chest.
She turned slowly and peeked around the corner to where the wagon was, hoping that the man hadn’t seen where she’d gone, and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw that the man had retrieved his coat, untied the horses and was heading to his next destination or—she hoped—back to where the horses could get in out of the cold.
With a thought that she’d inquire about the deliveryman tomorrow when she went to work, she turned and headed toward home.
She took off her gloves and clapped them together outside on the stoop of the large house that she lived in with her brother, Robert, and his wife. She untied her bonnet, shaking the snow off of it as well, then turned, opened the door and set them down on the small table, shrugging off her coat and hanging it on the rack by the door.
“Clara, is that you?” her brother called from the living room.
She swung the big, oak door open and entered, kissing him and her sister-in-law, Margaret, on their cheeks. “Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry I was a little late. I…”
“Had to help a stray kitten or puppy, I’m sure,” Margaret said with a smile.
“Actually, it was a horse this time,” Clara said, her heart full with hope that she’d actually been of help to the beautiful horses.
“A horse?” her brother said, his eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s a new twist, dear sister.”
“You do have a way with animals.” Margaret set her teacup down on the table beside her and leaned back onto the sofa, turning her eyes to Robert and clearing her throat.
“Oh, yes,” he said as he blinked quickly and turned toward his wife. “Clara, there’s something that Margaret and I need to speak with you about. Why don’t you have a seat?”
Margaret patted the settee, encouraging Clara to come sit beside her. Clara had always been grateful to her brother and Margaret for taking her in when her parents had left Chicago to move to New York. She plopped down beside Margaret, her heart beating a little faster at the formality. Dinner was normally ready when she got home, and this was very different.
Margaret nodded to her husband, and Clara looked toward her brother and wondered why his cheeks were flushed.
“It has been wonderful to have you live here with us, Clara, and Margaret and I have enjoyed it greatly. It’s been a wonderful opportunity for us to get to know you as the difference in our ages precluded that as we were growing up.
The ten-year age difference between them had resulted in them virtually being raised in different households. Robert had left for college when she was only eight years old, so she hadn’t gotten to know him until recently, accepting his kind offer to live with them.
“As you know,” he continued, “the banking world is ever-changing.” He smiled at his wife, who nodded to him, encouraging him to continue.
“And as a banker, I am always prepared to serve my employer where most needed. And right now, I am most needed in New York,” he finished quickly, reaching for his tea and sipping it as he looked at the ceiling.
“New York!” she cried, turning to Margaret.
Taking her hand, Margaret said, “Clara, I know it’s a surprise. It was to us as well. But we want you to know that we believe that you will enjoy it there once you get settled. You’ll have your own room as you do here, and you won’t even need to work. Once we have children, we’d love for you to help.”
Clara stood and walked to the window, the glass fogging with her warm breath as she watched the snowfall. “It’s as cold there as it is here, isn’t it?”
“Well, it can be, but not quite so windy,” Robert said with an awkward smile stretching his lips. “I know this is a surprise, Clara, but it isn’t like you’ll be leaving much behind. Sadie and Suzanne aren’t here anymore, and you work most of the time anyway. It will be an adventure.” He raised his cup to Clara and Margaret.
“Yes, an adventure,” Margaret repeated as she met Robert’s gaze and sighed.
Clara rubbed the bridge of her nose, her head spinning. “And when are we to leave?”
Robert broke her gaze and reached for the poker for the fire, reaching in and turning a log over. “Well, that’s the thing. It’s an emergency, so we’ll be leaving by the end of the month.”
Clara frowned, turning toward Margaret. “That’s less than two weeks.”
Margaret’s smile grew even bigger as she clapped her hands together. “Yes, isn’t it exciting? I can’t wait to see New York. I’ve never been…all the tall buildings, Central Park and all the excitement. And Clara, we can go shopping.”
Clara scrunched her nose at the thought of shopping. Not only shopping with Margaret, which could be very tiring as she carried all of the bags of clothes Margaret bought. But really about shopping at all. Period. It wasn’t something that she enjoyed.
Holding her hands out toward the fire, Clara sighed. Robert was right. With Sadie and Suzanne gone, she really didn’t have much to leave. She was sure there were bakeries in New York, and supposed she could get a job there as well.
“Thank you for letting me know,” she said. “I’m tired. If you’ll excuse me…”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Margaret stood and gave her a quick hug. Tucking a loose piece of Clara’s red, wavy hair behind her ear, she whispered, “It will be grand fun, Clara. You’ll see.”
Clara tried to smile at her and her brother as she turned to walk up the stairs, her stomach twisted in knots. Halfway up, she heard Robert say, “Well, that went quite well, don’t you think?”
She opened the door to her room and plopped down on the bed, falling backwards and staring at the ceiling. An adventure, they’d said. New York didn’t sound much like the kind of adventure she’d be interested in, but Robert and Margaret seemed positive that they’d like it. She rolled the proposition around in her mind, remembering she’d always been more interested in traveling, but of a different kind…ones that involved animals, or trees or…well, just places that weren’t full of tall buildings.
She sat bolt upright, remembering the letter she’d gotten the other day from Sadie. She opened the drawer of her nightstand, rummaging until she found it. She hadn’t responded to Sadie’s letter. In fact, she’d forgotten all about it, until now.
She opened the envelope, a sprig of lavender falling out that she hadn’t noticed before. She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply, reveling in the scent and imagining what it might look like where Suzanne and Sadie lived. Arizona Territory, was it?
She unfolded the letter and read it again. By the time she’d finished, her heart felt full at the faint glimmer of hope. Hope for a different life than her brother and sister-in-law wanted for her.
She took a deep breath, setting the letter down. She stood and walked to the window, pressing her hand on the cold pane of glass, ice crystals collecting in the corners.
Could she be a bride to someone she’d never met? To a wrangler, no less—not that she knew what a wrangler was, but she was pretty sure it involved something to do with horses—who needed a wife to inherit land?
Gazing at the tall, gray buildings surrounding her and the snow gathering on the ground, she made her decision. As she headed down the stairs to tell her brother and Margaret she’d be going to Arizona Territory instead of New York, she wondered if it snowed in Arizona. She shrugged her shoulders and skipped the last step, her heart fluttering with excitement at the leap of faith she would be taking. But it was her leap of faith.
Chapter 2
The three-day train ride had gone by quickly for Clara. She slept most of the way, exhausted by the sheer activity of helping Robert and Margaret pack for their move to New York. It had been a bittersweet week—they’d tried every day to change her mind—but she’d held steadfast. That alone had been exhausting, not to mention the wrapping of delicate china, clocks and trinkets—all the while assuring Margaret that her trip to Arizona Territory wouldn’t be the end of her.
“You don’t even know this person,” Margaret said almost every day. Somet
imes more than once a day.
Clara had held firm in her decision, explaining that Sadie and Suzanne had spoken highly of Hank Archer, and reminded Margaret that they’d all known Sadie, Suzanne and their parents their whole lives. She trusted them, and she encouraged Margaret to do the same.
By the time she’d actually gotten on the train and waved her final goodbyes to Robert, who was trying very hard to smile, and Margaret, who was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, she was ready to go. Exhausted, but ready. When she’d fallen asleep, it had been a sleep borne of countless waking hours and she sunk into it, rousing only for necessities and food, missing the changing scenery.
She blinked the sleep out of her eyes as the conductor came through and shouted, “Next stop, Benson, Arizona Territory. Thirty minutes to Benson.”
She turned and watched him as he exited into the following car, stunned that the entire trip had gone by so quickly. She sat up straight, her muscles objecting as she stretched. Used to long hours in the bakery, she stood and stretched more, oblivious to the glances of the other passengers. Out the window, strange vegetation whizzed past—she thought maybe there were cactuses but she’d never seen one. As she straightened her hair and tucked it back under her crumpled hat, the cactuses gave way to tall trees as they crossed a bridge over a river—or at least a riverbed. Frost hung in the trees and the riverbed was dry, but as she placed her hand on the window, she smiled at the warmth it transmitted. It was nowhere near as cold as Chicago.
She’d written Sadie with her arrival date but hadn’t heard back from her—one of the reasons for Margaret’s near-hysterics. Her family hadn’t wanted her to get on the train with no guaranteed party waiting for her. Clara’s smile spread, though, as the train pulled into the station and Sadie’s warm grin met her as she stood, arm in arm, with a tall, very handsome man that Clara assumed was her new husband, Tripp.
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