The Rancher

by Lily Graison

  Laurel smiled, reassuring her. "It's fine. I wouldn't have wanted to leave before I knew Holden was all right and had time to talk to him, anyway."

  "He was okay, then?"

  "For the most part," Laurel told her. "He had a burn on his side but it wasn't bad, thankfully."

  They had their sandwiches, and discussed the fire in Holden's barn the day before and as much as remembering still scared her to think what could have happened, she let Abigail talk.

  "I just find it strange anyone would be so careless," she was saying. "I know a few of the ranch hands smoke but none of them would be so stupid as to do so in the barn. It just makes no sense, really."

  Laurel hadn't given much thought to what may have caused the fire but now that Abigail brought it up, she could think of nothing else. It was hard to tell what started it, especially seeing how nothing had been left but a smoldering pile of charred wood but an uneasy feeling churned in her gut. She wondered if Ethan would be so devious as to start a fire and knew he was before the thought fully formed.

  She ignored the notion. They finished their lunch, washed it down with a pot a tea and Abigail was re-packing her basket when Laurel noticed her friend in no hurry to leave. Abigail sat back down after the remains of their lunch had been put away and Laurel watched her, curious as to why she was still lingering. Not that she minded, it just seemed odd. Abigail had a family, after all. "How are Morgan and Elizabeth?"

  "They're fine. Morgan was putting Elizabeth down for a nap when I left."

  Laurel nodded her head and waited. Abigail seemed to take interest in the school room, her head turning in all directions to take everything in. It wasn't until she saw Abigail look at the small watch pin, which hung from a chain around her neck, that she grew suspicious. "Are you waiting for something, Abigail?"

  Her friend's eyes widened just a fraction. "What would I be waiting for?"

  "I don't know," Laurel said, smiling. "You just look… well, settled in. I'm sure you have better things to do than to sit with me while I go over lesson plans."

  Abigail laughed nervously and stood, grabbed her basket and said, "You're right. I do have things to do today. Thanks for lunch!"

  She hurried across the room, leaving through the front door of the school and was gone in seconds. Laurel sat staring at the door for long moments before laughing quietly to herself and resuming her lesson plans. Not five minutes later, Morgan Avery walked through the door. Laurel knew something was up, then.

  He smiled as he crossed the room, tipping his hat to her before grabbing the chair his wife had just vacated, turning it to sit astraddle the seat. "Afternoon," he said, smiling.

  Laurel nodded her head in his direction. "Morgan. What can I do for you?"

  "Nothing. I just thought we could have a talk." He grinned, the smile looking a bit forced. "If Holden has his way, we'll be related soon, so I thought we could get to know each other better."

  Her face heated at that. Had Holden told his brother she'd said yes to his marriage proposal? She hadn't told Abigail because the idea was still so new. Besides, no date had been set, no plans made, so it all seems a bit premature at this point. "Does your brother usually get his way?" she asked, for lack of anything else to say.

  Morgan chuckled. "He's an Avery. We always get what we want."

  Laurel smiled at that. Those Avery's were also very sure of themselves. "It won't hurt one of you to not get his way."

  A blinding smile met her gaze. "Probably not but we're not willing to find out how'd it'd feel not to." He shifted on his seat, repositioned his hat and laid his forearms over the back of his chair. "And Holden's waited a lot longer than we have to find someone. He's always known he was a family man. Even when we were younger, all he really wanted was a wife, kids and that ranch. The rest of us were content to just visit the saloons and live one day at a time. Holden's always been a bit different and he's not been interested in anyone since Maggie died. Not seriously, anyway." He smiled at her again. "Well, until you came along." He met her gaze and held it. "He loves you, Laurel. He'll make a good husband for you."

  The words, I know, were on the tip of her tongue but Laurel held them back. For the same reason she hadn't told Abigail about their impending marriage, she kept the knowledge from Morgan. She offered him a smile in response and movement behind him caught her attention. Looking to the front door, her heart skipped a beat. "Ethan? What are you doing here?"

  Morgan stood and turned toward the door, crossing his arms over his chest. Laurel knew by his posture he'd been waiting for this. She assumed it's also why she'd had constant company since Holden had dropped her off at the school. He was having her… babysat like an infant. Her temper flared but she let it go and stood.

  Ethan was again dressed in a suit, dark gray this time. His shoes had a shine on them she could see from across the room. He was also carrying another bouquet of flowers. He removed his hat, tipped his head in her direction and said, "Good afternoon, Laurel." His gaze shifted to Morgan. "Marshal."

  He entered the room fully, crossed the space between them and stuck his hand out, offering her the flowers. "These are for you, my love."

  The smile on his face was sickly sweet and Laurel blew out a breath of frustration. As much as she didn't want the flowers, she reached out and took them anyway, laying them on her desk. If accepting them was what it would take to make him go away, then so be it. "Thank you."

  He straightened the lapels of his jacket, casting a quick glance to Morgan before returning his attention back to her. "I came to ask you to lunch. I had them set a special table for us over at the hotel."

  Laurel's stomach was in knots by the time he stopped talking. He was up to something. She knew him too well not to know. "I've already had lunch."

  "Oh." He looked disappointed but brightened a moment later. "Supper then. I can come back," he pulled a watch from his pocket, the gleaming gold chain winking as the sun shining in through the window caught it, "say, around four."

  She opened her mouth to respond but Morgan spoke before she had a chance. "She's already accepted an invitation to supper at my house this evening."

  Morgan didn't so much as glance her way but his lie was delivered as smooth as any she'd heard. She was amused and grateful. "That's right," she said. "I already have plans."

  Ethan smiled and tipped his head toward her. "Some other time, then." Nodding to Morgan, he turned without another word.

  When he was out of sight, Laurel let go of the breath she'd been holding and sank back down into her seat. Morgan turned to look at her and frowned. "Is he always so persistent?"

  Laurel laughed. "Most of the time, yes." She didn't add that he had a reason to be. That he would inherit a fortune from her father if―and when―he married her. Whatever business deal her father and Ethan had, it must have been profitable for Ethan to chase her across several territories and linger once he found her.

  Morgan stayed for another half hour, talking about nothing really but the moment he left, Laurel breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing her constant stream of visitors were just there to help fend off Ethan only served as a reminder that he was there and the sooner she could forget about him, the better off she was.

  She secured the front door of the school so no one could get in from outside and walked to her little room in the back and did the same. She looked around the small space she'd been calling home and sighed.

  The little room wasn't much but it was hers and giving it up would be hard. She'd given up so much to find the position, to live her dream of teaching, and she'd run away from home to be able to have it. Now, she was giving it up to marry a man who just wouldn't take no for an answer.

  "Maybe I'm making a mistake," she said to no one. She sat on the edge of her bed, her mind a jumble of what ifs.

  If she married Holden, she'd be sacrificing everything she'd ever wanted. But not marrying him meant giving up the one thing she craved. A family. Someone who loved her. A place to call home.


  Doubts were creeping in and the guilt that followed caused her heart to ache. She hadn't lied when she told Holden she loved him. She did, but what if it didn't work? What if all the fears she had became a reality? If Holden grew tired of her, would he stray? Find a mistress to give him what he was no longer willing to take from her?

  Misery settled like a stone in her stomach and she felt sick, queasiness churning in her belly. She gulped in air, closed her eyes and willed the feeling away. "Everything will be fine," she told herself. Opening her eyes, she sighed. "It has to be."

  * * * *

  It was after midnight when Holden rode back into town. He didn't think he'd ever been as saddle-sore or weary in his life. He'd had to stop nearly two hours ago to rest the horse. The stallion was sturdy and good for long distances but even the best horse couldn't keep walking but so long.

  The town was quiet when they lumbered through the street. The noise from the saloon subdued. No one lingered on the boardwalk and other than the lamplights shining from the windows of the saloon, the town was dark.

  He wanted to see Laurel but knew she had classes come sunup. Disturbing her at this hour of night would be unseemly but he couldn't wait. He guided his horse around the side of the school and stopped, climbed wearily from his horse and unhooked the parcels tied to his saddlebags.

  There weren't any lights coming from the one small window to her room and trying the door, he found it bolted from the inside. He sighed, ran a weary hand over his face and knocked. He heard the bedsprings squeak then, moments later, her voice.

  "Who's there?"

  "Holden."

  She opened the door, squinting in the darkness to see him. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," he said, smiling down at her. Her hair was mussed, her pristine white gown swallowing the curves he knew she had and just seeing her lifted his spirits.

  Grabbing his arm, she pulled him inside the room and shut the door behind him. "Where have you been all day? Morgan said you had to go to Missoula."

  He nodded. "I had a few things to take care of that wouldn't wait." He held out the packages to her, waiting for her to take them. "That's for you," he said. "And the preacher will be here on Sunday if you still have a mind to marry me." He held his breath, hoping she hadn't changed her mind.

  She smiled at him and laid the packages on the end of the bed. "I'll probably live to regret it, but yes, I still plan on marrying you."

  Relief flooded his system and he wrapped her in his arms, laid his chin on her head and just stood there holding her.

  "What's in the packages?" she asked.

  He smiled and kissed the top of her head. "You'll see when you open them." Pulling away from her, he cupped her cheek in one hand. "As much as it kills me to leave, I have to go. Alex is probably beside herself since I didn't go home after dropping you off." He kissed her, briefly, and turned to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  Once outside, he waited until he heard her bolt the door again before crossing the space to his horse. He climbed into the saddle, let out a weary sigh and reined the horse toward home. Once he'd left the town proper, he raised his arm, stuck his hand into his coat pocket and smiled when his fingers grazed the small package he's stowed there. He'd spend a good chunk of his savings on it but come spring, when the new colts were born, he'd make the money he'd spent back and then some. Besides, it wasn't everyday one found a woman like Laurel and to him, seeing her happy was worth every penny he had.

  * * * *

  Despite the fact she had classes in the morning, the packages Holden dropped off were too intriguing to not open. Laurel lit a lamp and sat down on the bed, pulling the string holding the smallest wrapped parcel open. Yards of snow-white lace spilled from the brown wrapping. She lifted it, took in the detail in the design and was grinning in an instant.

  She laid the lace aside, reached for the remaining package, a large bundle tied with two separate strings and wasted no time unwrapping the treasure. What she found laying inside took her breath.

  Standing, she grabbed the dress at the shoulders and held it up, a billow of white satin and lace flowing to the floor. Her eyes burned as she looked at it. Holden had gone all the way to Missoula to buy her a dress?

  Tears clouded her eyes at the thought. She hadn't even considered what she'd wear to marry him, the idea was still so fresh on her mind, but he'd taken the burden away from her. He'd delivered a white wedding gown Queen Victoria herself would envy.

  She laughed suddenly, hugging the dress to her and gazing down at the bed where she'd laid the yard of lace. She noticed something in the bottom of the package the dress had came from and reached for it, more laughter bubbling forth when she picked up the small, silk slippers tucked into the folds of the wrapping. He'd thought of everything.

  Wiping her face dry, she stored the dress, the slippers and the lace in the wardrobe, folded the wrapping paper and put it away, along with the twine and extinguished the lamp. She lay staring at the ceiling, knowing she'd never be able to sleep. By weeks end she'd be married. To a man too wonderful to be true.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The following Sunday morning, the sky was laden with slate-gray clouds and a chill wind blew in from the mountains. Laurel stood in the small room behind the schoolhouse with nervous butterflies swimming in her stomach.

  The week had passed in a blur of events that had Laurel ready to just throw up her hands, hop on the first stagecoach out of town, and get as far away as she could. Between the endless stream of visits from Ethan―who seemed in no short supply of gifts, his idea of courting her, she supposed―she was at her wits end. Ethan's visits put her on edge especially after the local gossip about her impending marriage to Holden reached him. Ethan tried to persuade her to marry him, going so far as to produce a ring, and resorted to threats when she refused.

  A classroom full of rowdy children didn't help matters either. Not to mention, Alexandra, the child she would soon call a daughter, had become withdrawn. She sat in class with her head down, never spoke unless she was asked a specific question and Laurel was worried on so many levels, the stress was sure to kill her at any moment. Holden hadn't been able to calm her fears any either. All the man ever said was, "It'll all be fine. Just wait and see."

  She wished she had an ounce of his confidence. The closer to Sunday it drew, the stronger the sense of foreboding grew. Something was going to stop this wedding. Laurel just knew it.

  "Hold still," Abigail said, grabbing Laurel's shoulder and turning her the way she needed her to stand. "I only have a few more stitches and you'll be done."

  Laurel stopped fidgeting and stared out the window. Emmaline and Abigail had shown up right after breakfast to do the last minute alterations to her dress. They'd rearranged the school house the day before, removing the desks and lining the benches up for everyone to sit at since there wasn’t a church, or a building large enough to hold everyone who may show up, in Willow Creek. Fall flowers and ribbons decorated the room and Holden had met the circuit preacher and tucked him away in the hotel to await the wedding. Everything was in place, the clock ticking off the minutes and in less than an hour, she'd be Laurel Avery, wife to Holden and new mother to Alexandra.

  She turned her head when she heard the sound of dragging feet and smiled when Alexandra poked her head in the door. She was wearing a dress the color of a summer sky. The pale blue material was trimmed in lace and small delicate flowers had been woven into her blonde hair which fell in curly waves down her back. "You look beautiful, Alexandra."

  The girl's cheeks turned pink but she wouldn't meet her gaze. She watched Abigail, looked around the small room and sighed heavily.

  "Is there anything wrong," Laurel asked.

  Alexandra shrugged one shoulder.

  Abigail stepped around her, smiling, drawing her attention away from Alexandra. "There. All done." She beamed up at her, her eyes dancing with mirth. "I don't think I've ever seen a lovelier bride."