The Wrangler's Mail Order Bride

by Cindy Caldwell

  Beau gave his hand a quick pat before he stood and walked to the bannister, leaning on it and looking out over the valley below.

  “I know you don’t remember your grandfather, but he loved your mother very much. It was me he wasn’t too wild about.” Beau turned and leaned against the bannister, looking from Hank to Clara. “He and his wife, your grandmother, lived in town with your mother, and when I came in at the end of a cattle drive and got one look at her walking down the street with her parents, it was all over for me.”

  Clara sighed, the romantic image warming her heart. “Did you marry right away, Mr. Archer?” She was curious to learn how long a courtship they’d had.

  “No, although that would have been fine with me. Took me a few more cattle drives and proving myself to your grandpa before he’d let me anywhere near her.”

  He smiled, and Clara got a glimpse of the same twinkle she’d seen in Hank’s eyes.

  “What does this house have to do with anything?”

  “Well, he’d owned this property for quite a while, had intended to build a house up here for him and your grandmother. She was a little delicate, and couldn’t be this far out of town. So when I announced my intentions for your mother’s hand in marriage, he took me to the saloon, bought me a whiskey and we made a deal.”

  “A deal?” Hank’s eyebrows rose as he plopped down on the swing where his father had sat.

  “Yes. He was adamant that if Katie and I were to be wed, we would take this property and build…well, build this. Or that I would, anyway.” He ran his hand over the smooth white of the adobe walls, his eyes soft.

  “You built this?” Hank stood and looked at the building. “By yourself?”

  His father laughed as he paced the porch. “No, not exactly. Your mother and I did. She was very talented—much more than just in the kitchen. We got married, moved up here and started building. It was quite a task and we had a very short time to do it. We lived with her parents for a bit, then moved in as soon as we could. Didn’t even have windows yet at the time, but she didn’t mind. We didn’t mind.”

  “It’s a lovely place,” Clara said, her heart tugging at Mr. Archer’s sadness.

  “Yes. We spent many, many hours on this porch, watching the sunsets. Nothing like an Arizona sunset.”

  He took a deep breath and continued. “When I’d left the cattle drive, my employer gave me a few head to start with on my own, and we did that up here, too. Ended up making some money and doing pretty well. Seems I had a knack for cattle driving. Just like you.”

  “Pa…”

  “Let me finish, Hank. This is hard enough as it is,” he, rubbing his eyes. “We’d been here a little while and were doing pretty well. Overjoyed to find out that your mother was with child.”

  “Oh, that would be me, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yes, yes it would, son.” Hank frowned, and gazed down at the buildings of Tombstone. “Your mother had a difficult time of it, and I decided that I didn’t feel comfortable with her being this far away from civilization, beautiful as it is. I’d saved some money and was able to buy the property the ranch sits on now from somebody eager to leave town to try his hand in the gold rush in California. It was a lucky day for me.”

  “So you moved down to the ranch?” Hank said, his eyes on his father.

  “Not right away. Wasn’t a stick of a building on it at the time. Your mother took you to stay with her folks for a bit, and I gathered all the help I could and built a duplicate of this very building on the ranch. It’s where we lived until we built the big house we’re in now.”

  “Oh,” Clara said. “That’s the white building between the house and the barn, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And that was Mama’s favorite place to be. She taught the girls to paint there, read us all books there, did her sewing. It was…her place. Her garden.” Hank rubbed his forehead before he sat down again on the porch swing.

  “Yes. I closed it up and locked it when she passed. Haven’t been in there since.”

  “So, I still don’t understand what this has to do with my getting this property. What is so urgent about it?” Hank asked.

  “If I may intrude, I think I know,” Clara said. “Katie’s father didn’t deed you the property, obviously. You thought he had?”

  “Yes, young lady. Exactly that. I’d thought it was a gift, and when he died and I heard he’d willed it to Hank—who was the only grandchild he met before he left for Colorado—I set out to keep it in the family. Couldn’t bear to part with it.”

  “So, requiring me to be married to inherit the property—why would he have done that?”

  “Oh, the old coot was a hopeless romantic. Wanted everybody to be happy, and in love. Shortly after you were born, your grandma died. Abe was heartbroken, and set out for Colorado to relieve the pain, erase some of the memories. Said he didn’t want to stick around here anymore.”

  “Oh, my,” Clara said, standing and crossing to Hank as he sat on the porch swing. “So this was sort of a ploy to ensure that his grandson was married? And hopefully happy?”

  Clara’s heart fluttered as she looked at Hank. She felt the warmth of his hand as he gripped hers and she realized they were sitting together on the porch swing. Beau and Katie’s porch swing.

  “Exactly, my dear. And that is where you come in.”

  Chapter 14

  Clara and Hank rode back to the ranch in silence without even eating the picnic lunch that the housekeeper had prepared. It didn’t feel appropriate to Clara to stay after all they’d heard from Beau, his emotions so close to the surface.

  He’d headed out before they did and they lingered just a bit before Hank untied the wagon and helped her in.

  “You didn’t know any of that, Hank?” Clara asked softly as he walked around the back of the buggy. He pulled himself in and grabbed the reins.

  “No, I didn’t,” he said, staring straight ahead, his face stony.

  “Are you upset?”

  His hands were tight on the reins, his knuckles almost white as he guided the horses back down the hill, the same way they’d come.

  “I don’t know if upset is the right word, Clara.” He glanced at her quickly and then looked ahead.

  “Then what is the right word?”

  “I guess I’m still a little confused,” he said as he turned and looked back at the boulders where the little white house sat.

  “It seems fairly straightforward. He wants to keep the property—and the house—in his family for sentimental reasons. Don’t you think?” Clara pulled the picture book out from under her seat and flipped the pages, trying to locate a particular type of cactus that they were nearing as they reached the bottom of the hill. She loosened the ties of her bonnet as the heat of the valley warmed her.

  “I suppose. But still, if there’s a bit more time, what’s the rush? Something doesn’t quite add up.”

  “He did ask once again if we could speed things up just now. Have a wedding as soon as possible, before you left. Sounds like he really wants this.”

  “That’s another thing I don’t understand. He said himself that after he and Ma got married, he got off the trail right away. Didn’t want to leave her. How could he expect any different from me? Get married and leave my wife, all in the same week?”

  Clara’s grip tightened on the book as she looked over at Hank. She’d not gotten any indication from him that he had thoughts that this would be a real marriage. Hope had glimmered in her several times, but she’d not seen anything from him other than a desire to be respectful and kind.

  “I’ve resigned myself to the necessity of the marriage and all, but—”

  Her head snapped forward, her heart clenching at the word, “necessity.” She’d been foolish to allow herself even that faint spot of hope.

  As Hank steered the wagon around a bend in the road, a sound Clara had never heard before pierced the air. The closest thing she could liken it to was the sound of a baby’s rattle
. But why would there be one of those here?

  Both horses reared their heads and took off running, so suddenly that by the time Hank yelled, “Hold on,” it was too late, and she’d fallen into the back of the buggy, knocking her head on the side.

  It was but a moment before Hank had the horses slowed, then stopped, and jumped out and held each horse’s bridle, talking to them soft and low until their quivers stopped, and their hooves rested rather than stomped.

  In what seemed like a matter of seconds, the whole thing was over.

  When the horses were still, Hank rushed around to the side of the buggy, a concerned, “Are you all right?” the first thing out of his mouth.

  As her heart slowed to a regular pace, she took stock, wiggling her fingers and her toes before she realized that her skirt was up around her knees from when she’d fallen backwards.

  Hank quickly turned around as he blushed, and Clara quickly pulled her skirts down where they belonged.

  “I think you have a little mark on your forehead. Can I take a look?”

  She reached up and felt a little dampness, pulling her hand away and flinching at the blood on it. “Yes, certainly. I’m fine,” she said as she reached for her bonnet that had fallen off during the ordeal.

  He reached in the buggy, holding onto her arm and helping her stand up to climb over onto the seat again. She was still in a bit of a daze as to what happened, and as he got into the buggy and took his handkerchief and dabbed the blood away, their eyes met and they both burst into laughter.

  “I don’t know why we’re laughing. That was pretty dangerous. Rattlers can spook horses so badly that they don’t stop running until they’re tired.”

  “I think I’m laughing because nobody got hurt—not really—and that’s the second time I’ve had to have you rescue me from a fall.”

  “I don’t think this one counts. I caused the fall,” he said, frowning as he looked back. “Or the rattler did, I should say.”

  “Is that what that was? A rattlesnake?” She shivered as she had the first time she’d seen a picture of one in her book.

  “It was. Didn’t get a good look as I was trying to hold the horses, but from the sound, I’d say it was good-sized.”

  “You sure calmed the horses down quickly,” she said, thinking of how he’d spoken to them softly and they’d just…stopped.

  “Ah. Yes, these are two of my horses. Two that I’ve trained. They know me.”

  She recognized Major, now that he’d mentioned it. “I’ve watched you with the horses, Hank. They seem to…listen to you.”

  The reins clicked as he hurried the horses along. “I don’t know about that. And don’t mention that to Pa. He thinks it’s a bunch of hogwash. But I do sometimes feel like I…hear them. Know what they’re thinking.”

  Clara fell silent, thinking of the horses in Chicago. She’d felt the same thing. She just knew they were cold, uncomfortable and needed help. Like Hank, she didn’t know how she knew. She just knew.

  And now, thinking of Beau and his story about his wife, his need for this property, she felt she knew what she needed to do.

  “Hank, as this is a marriage of convenience, to enable you to inherit the property, where would I be staying after? I mean, you know, when we’re…”

  “Married?” he said.. “I don’t rightly know. I hadn’t thought about it. I’m sorry. Everything happened so fast.”

  “You don’t have a home of your own and it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to stay…well, completely together.” The color crept into her cheeks even as she willed it not to. She knew she’d come to get married, so this shouldn’t be a surprise.

  “I’d ask Pa if we could stay in the casita—that’s what we called Ma’s little house—since it has a separate bedroom, but somehow, I don’t think he’d be amenable.” Hank shook his head, the frustration apparent as he gripped the reins more tightly.

  “I suppose I could just stay in the big house. It’s huge, even with all the girls. I think on our tour I spotted an empty bedroom.”

  Hank turned to her, frowning. “I don’t know what I did have in mind, Clara, but that wasn’t it.” He turned back toward the road as they drew closer to the ranch. “Besides, it’s not urgent. We have time to come up with a plan.”

  Clara smiled and placed her hand on Hank’s forearm. “No, we don’t have time. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to go ahead with the wedding. As soon as possible. I’d like your father to have what he wants. That is what I came here for, after all.”

  Hank pulled the horses to a stop, turning to Clara. “Are you sure, Clara? There’s no emergency. I want you to be satisfied that you’ll at least be welcome and—hopefully—content. I can’t offer much more than that right now.”

  Clara looked down at her hands clasped around the book. She picked it up and held it to her chest as she turned to Hank.

  “I’m sure. I came for a new, happy life and I mean to have one.”

  Hank’s blue eyes twinkled as he leaned forward, then caught himself, sitting upright again as he cleared his throat. He pulled his hat down further on his forehead and flicked the reins.

  “Thank you, Clara. I’m mighty grateful, and Pa will be, too.”

  Clara’s heart slowed to normal after it had taken off like the horses when Hank had leaned in toward her. Had she wanted him to kiss her? The foolishness of that thought struck her like lightning. This was a marriage in name only, and she’d best keep all other thoughts out of her head.

  Chapter 15

  Everything had moved so quickly, Clara wasn’t sure which way was up. She couldn’t forget sensing Beau’s relief as she and Hank told him of their decision. They did both chuckle when, after he’d regained his composure, he’d asked, “How about tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?” Clara had said, her body stiffening for a moment before she relaxed into the decision again, knowing she was doing the right thing.

  Hank’s anxious frown smoothed away as she said, “Tomorrow would be fine if we can get a license and pastor in time. I don’t know how long it takes—”

  Beau held up his index finger as he turned and reached into a roll-top desk and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Hank.

  “You went ahead and applied for a marriage license for us?”

  Beau put his thumbs in the sides of his black, satin vest as his chest puffed out. He rocked forward and backward on his leather boots. “I did. Thought it would save time when you two did decide, and the courthouse said all you need to do is sign it and add the date. And Pastor Grayson’s been on alert, too.”

  Clara let out a breath as she took a peek at the marriage license with her name on it, and she struggled to take a breath back in as it all suddenly became very real.

  Her eyes met Hank’s, and he folded the paper and handed it back to Beau. “You okay with tomorrow, Clara?”

  Her hands went to her earrings—the pears from her mother—and she stood tall, saying, “Yes. Yes, I’m sure, and tomorrow is fine.”

  Her own personal butterflies that resided in her stomach—as she now thought of them—took flight as Hank smiled at her, his laugh lines etched in his tanned, handsome face. He took her hand, his eyes twinkling as he kissed the back of it and quietly said, “Thank you.”

  “Oh, yes, thank you,” Beau said, almost as an afterthought as he replaced the marriage license back in the desk and rolled the top shut.

  “I presume that James and Suzanne can bring you tomorrow. We’ll have the wedding here, and maybe lunch at the Occidental if I can arrange it. Noon would be fine..” Beau’s voice trailed off as he headed into the kitchen—to make the arrangements for her wedding, she presumed.

  As soon as he was out of earshot, they both laughed, Clara putting her hand over her mouth so as not to be overheard.

  “Well, looks like this is it,” Hank said, pacing the floor in long strides, his hands behind him.

  She reached out and stopped him, looking up at him as he turned to her. “Don’t worr
y, Hank. It’ll be fine. I never thought much about what kind of wedding I’d have, only the kind of marriage it would be.”

  “Oh,” he said, his hands clasped behind him. “I do promise to keep you safe, and try my darndest to make you happy, Clara. That, I can promise.”

  Her heart pinched at the sincerity in his voice, and once again, she’d felt she was making the right decision. As she’d glanced around her future home with new eyes, she hoped this wouldn’t be the first time her instincts failed her.

  Now, after another night of tossing and turning in her bed, she was less certain. She had hung up all of her dresses when she’d arrived, but they were all too wrinkled—and too warm—to get married in. She put on a day dress, wondering how much time she had to pull something together.

  At least that was all she had to worry about. She’d talked with Sadie and Suzanne when she got home—between shrieks and laughter—and they’d settled on the wedding at Archer Ranch and a small luncheon at the Occidental afterward. There were no guests other than family to be invited, so the group would be small enough to be in the small dining room to the side of the restaurant, with long, red velvet curtains to close for privacy.

  She wrung her hands as she looked once more in her wardrobe. Suzanne had offered the dress she and Sadie had both married in, and it did look like it would fit—and was lovely. For some reason, though she’d wanted something of her own. Why hadn’t she thought to bring something more appropriate from Chicago?

  She jumped at the knock on her door as it pulled her away from her thoughts. “Come in,” she said as she moved to open the door.

  Backing away as it opened to allow enough room for the twins and Suzanne to enter, she looked with surprise to Suzanne. The twins struggled with each end of a rather large, flat box, and Suzanne shrugged as they finally made it to the bed and set it down.

  “This just came for you. I think I recognized the deliverer from Archer Ranch, but I’m not positive. There’s a note.”

  “Hurry up and open it, Clara!” Lucy cried, sitting on the bed beside her and bouncing up and down.