The Wrangler's Mail Order Bride

by Cindy Caldwell

  Clara’s breath hitched as she listened. She hadn’t really known what a wrangler was, but now that she’d heard, would Hank be gone most of the time?

  The group fell quiet as they approached the ranch, the silence broken by the squeals of the girls as their buggy passed a barn that seemed huge to Clara. Peering in as they passed, she counted at least ten horse stalls lining the inside, five on each side. Each had horses peering out, their whinnies reminding her of the cold horses she’d tried to help in Chicago.

  “I’ve just recently gotten to know horses, and I love them,” she said as they passed by.

  “We do, too!” Lucy cried. “I hope we get to ride today.”

  Suzanne smoothed her daughter’s hair. “Now, remember, Uncle Hank wasn’t sure if we were going to be able to do that today. The party is for Clara, so we’ll have to be patient. If not today, maybe we can come a different day.”

  Lucy’s bottom lip stuck out so far Clara laughed that it might stay that way, as her mother had always told her it would. The thought of her mother jolted her back to the matter at hand, and as she looked up at the house of her future family, she felt a tug at her heart, wishing her mother were here with her now. She reached up to her ears, reassuring herself that the earrings her mother had given her were there. She’d need all the courage she could get today. And probably tomorrow, too.

  Although Clara had expected mostly cactuses and sand, she looked up at full trees as they passed through two long lines of them on each side of the entrance road to the main house. After they’d passed the barn, before they’d reached what she assumed to be the main house, they passed a smaller house, one story, and made from something different than the wood she was used to. The white walls shimmered in the spring sun and she admired the bright blue of the windowsills. It was certainly different than anything she’d ever seen.

  Outside of the small house was what looked like an herb garden, but it was apparent that it hadn’t been tended to in quite some time. Its bushes had fallen over, and weeds had pierced their way through most of the small groups of plants, most of which Clara recognized from her sister-in-law’s greenhouse she’d had, full of herbs that they’d used for cooking.

  Curious about the state of the garden, she turned to Suzanne who quietly shook her head and nodded toward Tripp. Clara frowned as she saw him look away toward the house, his somber expression discouraging questions of any kind.

  James slowed the buggy as they drew closer to the house, and Clara’s nerves jangled as Hank walked down the steps of the porch, tipping his hat to them before he took the reins from James. He held the buggy while they got out, their skirts flouncing as they hit the ground.

  Just as everyone had gotten out of the buggy, they all turned at the sound of one of the horses neighing and its bridle clanking as it reared its head. The buggy pulled forward as it did, and James and Suzanne pulled the twins back further toward the house.

  Clara watched as Hank pulled the reins in tighter and heard him speak to the horse under his breath, all the while stroking its nose. The horse’s ears turned toward him as it stomped once and quieted, nuzzling Hanks hand.

  Hank smiled, keeping eye contact with the horse as he gave him a final pat and whispered something again. He handed the reins to a young man and said, “Take them around to the barn with the others. Thanks, Ben.”

  He watched the horses round the corner before he turned toward the group. His eyebrows rose as he took in the group, mouths agape as they’d watched the scene.

  “What?” he said, holding his arms open wide.

  “How do you do that, Hank? Even out on the trail, you were the only one who could calm these horses, even in the wildest of times,” Tripp said, shaking his head.

  “Nah,” Hank said, pulling his hat further down his forehead. “Anybody can do it.”

  Tripp sighed as he turned toward the house, holding his arm out to Sadie.

  Hank held his arm out to Clara, and she smiled and took it with her own. She frowned at Sadie when she winked at her, and turned her attention back to Hank and the house. As they reached the porch, Hank stopped and she thought she heard him say under his breath, “Uh-oh.”

  She turned her gaze to the direction he was looking, and her eyes flew open wide as a line of girls rushed past and into the door, pigtails flying. The shortest one, about sixteen years old, Clara guessed, stopped in front of the twins. She bent over, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “Want to come with us? We’re late getting ready and Papa’s mad, but you can come help, if you want. There’s somebody special coming and we have to look like girls.”

  Suzanne looked down at the pleading eyes of Lucy and Lily. “Promise me you’ll mind Pepper,” she said to the girls’ vigorous nods. She placed their hands in the girl’s and shook her head. “Be good, now. And Pepper, this is Clara, the special guest.”

  Pepper stood slowly, her face panicked as she stared, open-mouthed, at the twins. She sighed, and turned around, smiling at her brother and Clara. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m not supposed to see you yet, though, until I get ready. Please don’t tell anyone, and I’ll meet you again in a little bit.”

  She turned to Hank, her puppy-eyed face having its intended results.

  “Scoot. Get along. Pa’s not up here yet, anyway.”

  Pepper jumped up and down, gathered the twins’ hands in her own and disappeared in the house.

  “So that’s how it goes when I’m not looking, eh?” a voice boomed behind Clara, down at the bottom of the stairs.

  Clara felt Hank’s arm stiffen in hers. They all turned toward the voice, which apparently belonged to a tall, handsome man with dark hair, graying around the temples. “Hello, Mr. Archer,” Suzanne said as she put her arm through James’s and squeezed.

  “Yes, hello,” Tripp said as he took Sadie’s hand in his.

  Clara wasn’t exactly sure what to say, so she waited for Hank.

  “Hi, Pa. The girls were on their way to get dressed, like you asked, and Pepper stopped to take Lucy and Lily with them.”

  “Yes, I saw that. They were to have been dressed and ready an hour ago.” The man shook his head as he climbed the steps. It seemed to Clara that everyone on the porch had all agreed to hold their breath at the same time. And she felt them all exhale together as Mr. Archer said, “And this must be your future bride, Clara,” extending his hand to her with a tip of his hat and a wide smile.

  “Pa, meet Clara Martin. Clara, my father, Beau Archer.”

  He bowed slightly to Clara as he shook her hand. “Delighted to meet you, young lady. We’ve been anxiously expecting you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Archer. I have—“

  “Please, call me Beau. And let’s go inside. We should be starting soon.”

  Both Clara and Hank stared at his back as he turned and entered the house, his boots loud on the porch as he strode ahead of them.

  Tripp followed with Sadie on his arm. He clapped Hank on his shoulder as he passed. “It’ll be all right. Let’s just go on in,” he said, giving him a reassuring smile.

  Hank breathed in heavily and let it out hard. He turned to smile at Clara and patted her hand that was on his arm.

  “His bark is worse than his bite. I promise,” he said as he ushered her into the home of what would be her new family.

  Chapter 8

  After the lunch Beau had planned, Clara had gotten a brief tour of the unusual house and had learned that it was made of something called adobe, a clay mixture dried and used as blocks.

  “This is what many people who are native to this climate use to build their homes, and Pa wanted to try it,” Hank explained as they walked past the thick, solid walls. “Makes it cooler in summer and warmer in winter, keeping out most of the cold drafts and heat.”

  He’d been giving a running commentary—she wasn’t sure if it was due to nerves—since they’d begun their tour, telling her about the art, the furniture and where it had come from.

  When they
got to the kitchen, though, he walked straight through without a word. Clara glanced back at the glimmering pots and pans hanging from the ceiling and the stove that seemed to be big enough to feed a crowd of this size. He hadn’t seemed to want to stop there, so she held her tongue and finished the tour.

  As they sat in the living room, she glanced out the windows to the back of the house. The vivid blue window frames of the smaller house she’d seen earlier caught her eye and she craned her neck, trying to see the garden from this vantage point.

  She felt a tap on her elbow and turned quickly, almost bumping into the cups Hank held in his hands.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said with a laugh. “I wasn’t paying attention.” She accepted the cup he offered and took a sip, the tart taste of lemonade welcome on her tongue. The lunch they’d eaten had some spices in it that Clara hadn’t recognized. She’d like it very much, but it had left a slow burn in her mouth that she was unaccustomed to.

  Hank smiled and looked past her to where she’d had her gaze. “Oh,” he said, glancing down at his cup of lemonade.

  Clara frowned as his face clouded and he sighed.

  “Oh?” she repeated, not entirely sure what he’d meant. It was clear to her that he wasn’t very enthusiastic about talking about what was bothering him, either here or in the kitchen, but if she was to marry this man, there could be no secrets, no matter what kind of relationship it was. A marriage was a marriage, and right was right.

  He took Clara’s lemonade from her hand and set both his cup and hers on the table by the settee. Opening the door to the patio, he pulled her outside and shut it behind them. “Is that what you were curious about?” he said, pointing to the little white house with the blue shutters.

  She turned to see what he was pointing at, nodding slowly. “Yes, it is. It has a garden that could use some tending, and—”

  “Clara, I know this might be difficult to understand, but there are some things we just don’t talk about around here.”

  Her heart leapt to her throat as she walked to the edge of the lovely brick patio, staring in the direction of the little house. She was in new territory—literally—and while she was used to speaking her mind, she had gotten a sense that this was a family that didn’t talk much to each other. She’d felt the weight of it as soon as she’d entered the property, and even more strongly when she’d entered the house.

  People were kind enough, but very ill at ease. Tripp’s words about Katie, Hank and the girls’ mother and Beau’s wife, rang in her ears. She’d passed away, and not that long ago. She wondered if it was sorrow that still held them all in its grip.

  She put her hands behind her and leaned against the wall as he slowly paced back and forth on the patio. The pillar holding up the patio roof squeaked as he leaned against it, looking over toward the small house.

  “We don’t know each other all that well yet, Hank, but I’m not normally one to keep secrets—or tiptoe around things. I hope that won’t be a problem. I know some things are private, but if I’m going to be part of this family, even in name only, and be expected to live here, I need to be let in.”

  Hank looked down at his feet, scuffing his boots on the floor. “Clara, I—”

  “Pa says to come back in the house, Hank. It’s time,” Pepper said as she poked her head out the door.

  He stood, his arms folded over his chest. “Time for what?”

  “Just come on,” she said as she swung the door open wider and ran back into the house.

  Hank held his arm out for Clara and said, “Can we talk later, Clara? This is all new to me, and I…”

  She stopped, meeting his gaze as she turned to him. “Of course. And thank you for being willing.” She started to raise her hand to his cheek and her heart tugged as she drew her hand back, realizing that she barely knew this man. Grateful that he’d agreed to talk to her later, she followed him inside the house.

  “There you two are,” Beau said as he opened his arms wide and gestured for them to sit on the settee in front of the fireplace. “Come warm up by the fire. It’s cold out there.”

  Clara hadn’t noticed the cold. It was certainly nothing like the snow in Chicago, but she sat down by the fire anyway and Hank sat beside her.

  “It’s time you met the rest of the family, Clara,” Beau said and he frowned in Hank’s direction as she heard him groan. “Your sisters are very happy for you, as am I, and they prepared something for you. Girls?”

  Clara laughed with delight as six girls, stair-stepped in height but for the middle two who were clearly twins, walked out from the dining room in matching pinafores. The tallest one spoke first as she smiled at her brother and Clara.

  The girls stood to her right and they introduced themselves in succession, each giving a small curtsy afterward.

  “I’m Nutmeg, but people call me Meg. Pleased to meet you.”

  “I’m Rosemary. Pleased to meet you.”

  “I’m Sage and this is Saffron,” said one of the twins while her sister smiled and remained silent.

  “I’m Tara, but really Tarragon,” the next said, blushing. “Very pleased to meet you.”

  Clara stood and went down the line, shaking each girl’s hand as she passed by. She walked slowly, looking each girl in the eye to very different reactions from each of them. Rosemary smiled and nodded. Tara lowered her eyes and immediately looked to the floor. Pepper shook her hand vigorously and laughed. When she got to Meg, the eldest, she met a very guarded young lady, who smiled with obvious effort and did not blink.

  “It’s nice to meet you all, as well,” Clara said as she sat back down beside Hank.

  Meg cleared her throat and looked at her father. He nodded and all the rest of the girls looked to their big sister.

  Clara’s hand flew to her chest as Meg hummed a single note and closed her eyes. With the voices of what Clara thought must be angels, Hank’s sisters sang one of her favorite hymns, the harmonies of the six sisters blending in a way which Clara had never before heard, not even in church on a Sunday. Enraptured, she held her breath as they finished, breaking into applause along with all the others in the room as they finished and took a bow.

  She turned to Hank, and his wide smile and loving gaze warmed her heart. She looked then at Beau, chest full as he watched his daughters with soft eyes.

  “Thank you, girls,” she said, jumping to her feet as the applause continued. She was met with shy grins from each girl as they hugged both their father and Hank. A pang of sadness stabbed Clara’s heart, the same one she’d noticed when she’d first arrived.

  A knock on the door broke the spell, and Hank shook his head quickly before opening it.

  “Hello, Pastor Williams,” Hank said as he shook the offered hand. “I didn’t know you were coming today. What—”

  Beau strode forward, shaking the man’s hand and pulling him inside, ignoring the confused look on his face. “Come in, come in, Pastor. Thank you for coming.”

  “I’d like to introduce my…um…Clara Martin.” His ears turned pink and he looked to Tripp, who was standing in the corner, watching.

  The gathering had been very small, just Suzanne, Sadie and their families and the Archer family, so Clara’s eyebrows rose at the sight of a new guest and the new awkwardness in the room, but she smiled as she turned to the pastor.

  He shook her hand, saying, “It is very nice to meet you on such an auspicious occasion.”

  Hank shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just lunch, but you’re welcome to join us, and I’m glad you got to meet Clara before the wedding.”

  “Yes, well, barely,” he said, laughing as he turned to Beau.

  “Papa, can we start?” Pepper said, tugging at her father’s sleeve.

  “Start what?” Hank asked, turning to his father.

  “The wedding!” Pepper cried. She grabbed the pastor’s arm and pulled him forward, his face frozen as he looked from Hank to Beau.

  “The what?” Hank said as he stood and took several steps to
ward his father.

  Beau held his hands up and shook his head.

  “Now, Hank, you know that the will has a timeline attached. I figured since we were in a hurry, and your intended has had the opportunity to meet the family, we’d just get on with it.”

  Clara watched, wide-eyed, as Hank’s hands clenched into fists and unclenched again. She searched for Suzanne and Sadie, finding them as wide-eyed as she knew herself to be.

  “Pa, this wasn’t how I wanted this to be. Clara just arrived yesterday, and she’s been gracious enough to consider my offer. I wanted to—“

  Beau clapped his son on the back. “Son, son, son. There’s plenty of time for that stuff later. It’s getting colder, and that property will be very handy for you to use to get the cattle and the hands ready to head out on the trail next week.”

  “Next week?” Hank’s hands had clenched permanently now and Clara stood slowly, Hank’s sisters all moving behind the settee.

  Beau and Hank stared at one another, neither breaking their gaze as Tripp stepped between them. Clara remembered that Suzanne had mentioned that Tripp grew up with Beau and Hank, and guessed that made him family, as well.

  “Gentleman, I think you’re forgetting something here.” He stood between them and gestured to Clara. “It would make sense to me if the lady who’d just come all the way from Chicago had a say in when her nuptials would be…or even if they would be after this display.”

  All eyes turned to Clara, and her face flushed. She looked desperately toward Suzanne and Sadie, willing them to give her some advice and tell her what to do. Taking a deep breath and glancing out the window, she spotted the small, white house and remembered Hank’s promise that they’d talk. Later. But later might be too late, and she needed to know what she was getting herself into before it was something she could not undo.

  Her brother and sister-in-law’s final words to her rushed into her head. “Clara, you’ve been taking care of yourself for a long time. Quite well, I might add, and I beg you to remember that you should do nothing that you don’t feel is right for you.” And her brother had pressed enough money into her hand for a train ticket to New York. “We will always be there for you.”