The Wrangler's Mail Order Bride

by Cindy Caldwell

  She stood and moved back to the stable door, watching in awe as Hank and his father took very different approaches to trying to get the horses into the arena.

  As Mr. Archer moved toward one, yelling and flailing his arms, it would move away.

  Hank, flanking the other side, moved calmly, quietly, and was able to slowly usher the horse he was closest to into the arena, where it ran to the far end and settled.

  As Hank and his father closed the arena gate behind the last of the horses, Hank rested his arms on the top of the fence as his father turned back toward the stable, his hands clenching as he strode up the hill.

  Hank took his hat off and looked after his father, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

  “Are the girls all right?” Mr. Archer asked as he entered the stable door and saw Suzanne, Lucy and Lily.

  “I believe so, Mr. Archer. Just frightened.”

  “Well, good,” he said gruffly as he continued through the stable and out the other door, heading up toward the house.

  Chapter 23

  Suzanne walked up to the main house with Clara as Hank led the final horse from the arena back to the stable. Lucy and Lily still trembled, Clara noticed, as she and Suzanne each carried one of the girls up the drive.

  They set the girls down on the porch swing and Clara rushed inside to grab a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses. She opened the door, and as she set the pitcher and glasses on the table near Suzanne, Hank’s boots sounded on the porch steps.

  “That was mighty scary,” Hank said. He took off his hat and hung it on a hook by the front door.

  “It sure was,” Suzanne said, each of her arms hugging one of the twins tightly to her.

  Hank crouched and smoothed Lucy’s hair away from her face. “What happened, girls?”

  Lily grabbed her mother’s waist again, her eyes wide as she looked at Lucy.

  “The horses wanted to come out and play.” Lucy buried her head in Suzanne’s lap as her mother stroked her hair and looked at Hank, shrugging her shoulders.

  He looked down a moment, his elbows resting on his knees as he squatted, as close to eye level with the twins as he could get.

  “They did, did they?” He smiled reassuringly at Lucy, who peered up at him from her mother’s skirts.

  “I…I think so. They were trying to get out, so I thought—”

  “We didn’t know, Mama. We didn’t,” Lily said, her eyes welling with tears again.

  “I know you didn’t, sweetheart. Mama shouldn’t have left you alone in there, anyway.” Suzanne shook her head, and looked at Clara.

  “Well, how did the doors to the stalls get opened?” Hank stood and sat in a chair opposite Suzanne and the girls, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward.

  “Lucy said we should pull a crate over to be taller, so we could reach the handles. We didn’t know that the horses would be mad like that, Uncle Hank.”

  “No, no, you wouldn’t have. But it’s not safe to let any horses out when there’s no grown-up around,” he said, reaching forward and tugging gently at Lucy’s braid with a smile.

  “I’m very sorry,” Lily said, looking up into her mother’s eyes as she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

  “I know you are, sweetheart.” Suzanne hugged both of the girls tightly, kissing each one on top of their heads. “Mama’s sorry, too, Hank.”

  He laughed, taking a glance at Clara. “You all right?”

  Clara sat in the chair beside Hank and poured two glasses of lemonade, handing one to each of the twins.

  “Yes, yes, of course. I’ve never seen horses behave that way, though. It was quite frightening and I’m so grateful you were there, Hank.”

  Hank glanced down at the stables, his face clouding. “So am I. And good Pa was there to help.”

  “I have to say,” Suzanne said as she stole a sip of lemonade from Lucy’s glass, “it sure was different, though, how the horses behaved around you and your Pa.”

  “What do you mean?” Hank’s brow furrowed as he turned back to Suzanne.

  Suzanne shifted her eyes quickly to Clara.

  “Hank, the way the horses reacted to you was very different than to your father. She poured a glass of lemonade and handed it to Hank.

  Hank frowned and studied the lemonade, swirling it in his glass.

  “I guess I hadn’t really thought of it that way. Not with horses that I haven’t personally trained. And those horses on that side of the stable—none of them are horses I’ve had anything to do with. They’re the hands’ horses and waiting to go on the trail. Except for Pa’s, of course.”

  “You really saved the day,” Suzanne said. “I know that we caused the trouble, but what if you hadn’t been here? To be honest, I’m not sure your father could have done that, even with one of the hands helping.”

  Hank sighed, gazing again back at the barn.

  “I don’t know about that. Everybody seems to manage well enough.”

  “I hate to see you go back out on the trail,” Clara said quietly.

  “So do I,” Suzanne said, looking from Hank to Clara. “You just got—”

  “We don’t want you to leave, either. Do we, Lily?” Lucy sat up, poking her sister.

  “No, we don’t,” Lily said, scowling.

  Hank sighed, his lips pressed together.

  He shook his head and said, “I don’t want to go either. But unless I can convince Pa that it makes sense, that the cost of another hand on the drive would be okay, and I could be more valuable here, I’m afraid it’s going to happen. And soon.”

  Clara stood and leaned against the porch railing, looking past the garden in front of the little white house that was now much more green, and onto the stables.

  “Hank, how many horses have you trained here? Just this time, since you’ve been off the trail?” Clara asked, one eyebrow raised.

  He rubbed the back of his neck, sipping from his lemonade. “Oh, I reckon maybe ten? I’m not sure.”

  Suzanne perked up, her eyes wide as she looked at Clara.

  “And I know of many more people who have wanted you to do it.” She sat up straight on the bench, Lily and Lucy perking up beside her.

  “And you mentioned that you do it as a favor. Do you know that Mrs. Beckett said she wanted to pay you, and that others did, as well?”

  Clara paced the length of the porch now, her heart beating faster.

  “Oh, yeah, people offer to pay. But I don’t…I’ve never..”

  “What if you did accept payment, Hank, even if just a little? Do you think there’d be enough people who’d do it to make enough money at least to hire a hand for the trail?” Clara asked, her eyes bright.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Well, I do, Hank,” Suzanne said. “Sadie said she gets asked all the time at the restaurant whether you’re home and training horses or not. Guess everyone knows you and Tripp are friends. Thought he might know.”

  Hank blew out a deep breath. “I guess I’ve just never really thought about it. You really think it might work?”

  His hopefulness tugged at Clara’s heart and she smiled, turning to Suzanne.

  “What if we put an ad in the paper and see what response we get? That way, we can lay it all out and present it to your father. He’d have numbers to look at to consider it.”

  “The editor of the paper is a friend of James. If you write something up, I can take it by on the way home. Maybe he could even get it in for tomorrow,” Suzanne said.

  Clara turned to the door. “First, we’ll need a name.”

  “Hang on there, ladies. Hold up a minute,” Hank said, holding his hands up toward them. “This is all happening a little fast, don’t you think?”

  Clara and Suzanne looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “Fast? We got married in just a few days, just like Tripp and Sadie. The restaurant went up in a week. This is just keeping in line with everything else.”

  Clara smiled as she opened the front doo
r, heading to the desk and grabbing paper and pen.

  “Suzanne, what do you think? You’ve known Pa a while.” Hank pushed his dark hair back, his blue eyes watching the door for Clara.

  “Hank, your Pa’s not been the same since your Mama died, you know that. But the Beau Archer I knew before that happened would have thought this a grand idea.” Suzanne leaned forward, patting Hank’s knee.

  “Not to worry. We can make it work.”

  Clara strode back onto the porch and sat down by Hank, tapping the quill on her chin.

  “Now, all we need is a name.”

  “Hank’s Horses?” Hank said.

  Clara frowned. “No, no, not catchy enough. How about Hank’s Horse Training?”

  “Too simple,” Suzanne said, drumming her fingers on the bench. “I know, what about Happy Horses from Hank?”

  Hank laughed, his head falling into his hands. He looked up and said, “I’m not sure we’re going to think of anything. They all sound silly.”

  “Hank’s Happy Horses,” Lucy chimed in and Hank laughed, clapping his hands.

  “What do you think, ladies? I like that one,” Hank said, clapping his hands and nodding his head slightly toward Lucy.

  They all agreed, and Clara quickly wrote out an ad for Suzanne to take to the Tombstone Epitaph.

  As Suzanne and the twins turned their buggy down the drive, Hank took Clara’s hand and turned her toward him.

  “I want you to know that whether or not this works out, I really appreciate you believing in me. I haven’t felt like that for a long time,” he said as he peered down at her, his eyes soft.

  She lifted her chin up toward him and placed her hand on his cheek.

  “I’m glad, Hank. Everybody needs to be believed in. Supported. Loved. It’s a good thing.”

  He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

  “Yes, I’m beginning to see that,” he said as he leaned closer to her.

  Rosemary poked her head out the front door and said, “Hank, Maria asked if you’d bring up some wood for the stove so she can start supper.”

  They pulled away from each other and Hank cleared his throat.

  “Sure. Tell her I’ll bring it right up.”

  Clara noticed Hank’s ears redden before he was able to pull his hat down over them. She smiled behind her hand.

  “You know, Hank, there’s really nothing to be shy about. We are married, after all.”

  Hank turned quickly to her, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

  He lifted his hat off, took two strides toward her and kissed her on her cheek, quick and soft. Her heart fluttered as he nodded at her and headed down to the wood pile, whistling one of his favorite tunes.

  Chapter 24

  Hank laughed a few days later when Clara handed him the list of people who wanted to sign up for Hank to train their horses.

  “Are you sure?” he asked Clara, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “I’m positive. They all saw the ad or heard about it from a friend.”

  “This is more than I could do in a couple of months,” he said as he scanned the list in his hand.

  “Precisely how long you would have been on the trail.” Clara smiled as she took Hank’s hand and pulled him to sit beside her on the porch swing.

  “And if you look at the price we put in the ad and plan it out, is that about what it’d cost to hire a wrangler for the trail for two months?”

  Clara handed him the ad and watched his eyebrows rise even further, his face reddening.

  He let out a slow whistle. “You put in this much? And that many people still signed up? This would pay for ten wranglers, not just one.”

  Clara laughed and leaned back on the swing. “Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “What’s wonderful?” Mr. Archer said as he clomped up the stairs, wiping sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief.

  Hank stood quickly at the sound of his father’s voice, leaving the swing to fall back with Clara in it. He turned and handed Clara both the newspaper and client list, and as he did, she nodded to him.

  “You got a minute, Pa?” He cleared his throat and motioned for his father to sit down.

  Mr. Archer narrowed his eyes at his son and slowly sat in the chair Hank had indicated. “What’s this all about?” he asked, looking from Hank to Clara.

  Hank shoved his hands in his pockets and began to pace as his father sat back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest.

  Clara took a deep breath, hoping that this would go well. Before they put the ad in the paper, they’d written out what it would take in earnings to make this work, and the numbers had come back sound. It was a good business proposition. She just hoped Mr. Archer would see it that way.

  “Pa, remember when we talked a bit ago about me not going on the trail and you said it wasn’t an option? We needed me to wrangle on it as the price for a head of cattle is dropping and things are changing?”

  “I did. Things definitely are changing in the industry. It’s been good to us for many years, but things are lean now, and I am certain that you understand what needs to be done.”

  “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. We’ve known for a while that with all of the cattle coming out of Texas through Arizona into California, where all the people are going, there’s not as much demand for ours.

  Clara’s hand went to her chest as she caught her breath. She and Hank had been so busy—but that subject hadn’t come up. She’d had no idea that things were lean on Archer Ranch.

  Hank nodded apologetically to Clara. “I know I didn’t share that with you, Clara. Didn’t want you to worry.”

  Mr. Archer glared at Clara. “This really is a family issue anyway, young lady. If you’ll excuse us—”

  “Stop right there, Pa. Clara is my wife, and agreed to marry me to help gain the property Grandpa left. And we need that.”

  “Yes, we do, but—”

  “So, she’s made sacrifices for our benefit. Surely, she’s earned the right to discuss family business.”

  Mr. Archer’s ears reddened and he looked away, toward the stable.

  “Get to the point, then. We need to talk about getting ready for the trail.”

  “That’s just it, Pa. I’m not going, and I’d really like you to approve of that decision.” Hank stopped pacing and turned squarely to his father.

  “Son, we’ve discussed this. If that’s all you wanted to talk about, I’ll talk with you later about the other,” Mr. Archer said as he stood.

  Clara jumped up, taking the two steps to Mr. Archer, who was eye to eye with Hank.

  “Mr. Archer, Hank and I believe we’ve found a good solution for the moment. Would you just hear Hank out?”

  Mr. Archer eyed his son briefly and sat back down.

  “So, what is this idea of yours?”

  Hank winked at Clara as he reached for the client list and held it out to his father.

  “We ran an ad in the newspaper for my new business, Hank’s Happy Horses. These are all the people who signed up for training services in the past two days.”

  Mr. Archer glanced at the list and tossed it onto the table next to him.

  “That’s great, son, but you helping that many people for free won’t hire us another wrangler. I need that to be you.”

  “Mr. Archer, take a look at this.” She handed the newspaper to him and watched as his eyes lit up, his eyebrows rising as he read the ad.

  He let out a slow whistle, and said, “People are willing to pay this much to have you work their horses?”

  Hank smiled proudly and crossed his arms over his chest, rocking forward and back on his cowboy boots.

  Mr. Archer stood and walked to the far end of the porch, his hands clasped behind him.

  As they waited, Hank sat down beside Clara on the porch swing, leaning back and giving her hand a quick squeeze.

  His father paced a couple more times then sat back in his chair, steepling his fing
ers and eyeing both Hank and Clara.

  Clara thought her heart would beat right out of her chest as she waited to see what he would say. She couldn’t stop her knee from bouncing as she crossed her hands in her lap and waited.

  “I have to say I have noticed you’re the best wrangler I’ve ever seen. Have a way with horses I’ve never witnessed in any other man.”

  Hank blushed at the compliment and looked down at his feet, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward.

  “Thanks, Pa.”

  “I haven’t been out on the trail with you in years, but I got a good look at it the other day when the horses got out—er, were let out, I hear.”

  He smiled and pushed his hat back on his head.

  “Oh,” Clara exclaimed. “The girls really didn’t mean to—”

  Mr. Archer held up his hands to stop her, his lips curving up a bit with just a hint of a smile.

  “Don’t worry. I understand that, but Hank sure made quick work of getting those horses calmed down or that could have been a really bad situation.”

  Clara sat back hard, a big whoosh of relief coming out.

  “So, you’re thinking that you can make as much or more than what it would cost to hire a wrangler to replace you?”

  Hank sat up and looked his father in the eye.

  “Yes, sir. I believe so. New folks are coming into town all the time, work horses are retired every day and people want to make sure they have safe horses that they can trust.”

  “And you can deliver that?”

  Hank and Clara exchanged glances, and he reached for her hand. Turning back to his father, he said, “We know we can.”

  “We, is it?” Mr. Archer said, smiling as he looked from Clara to Hank.

  “How about this? I’ll give you a week. Postpone the drive for a few days and if in a week it’s happened the way you say it will, we’ll make a different plan for a wrangler on the drive. How’s that?”

  Hank and Clara both jumped up, Hank giving his father’s hand a firm shake.

  “Thank you, Pa. You know I want the ranch to be a great success, but I think this is a good idea. For me and the ranch.”

  His father tipped his hat at Clara and turned to head into the house.