No Place for a Lady (Heart of the West Book #1): A Novel

by Brendan, Maggie

  Kate laughed. “Well, I see you didn’t bring enough change of clothes.”

  “That trunk has my gowns, what’s left of them. Y’all do have parties out here, don’t you?”

  Jube looked at Curly, who reached down to pick up an oddshaped case, and then over to Luke, who shrugged his shoulders.

  “We have a barn dance every now and then,” Kate replied.

  “Oh . . .” Disappointment sounded in her voice, but she wore her brightest smile. “I guess we’ll have to do something about that then, won’t we?”

  Curly slammed her black case down, and Crystal rushed toward him. “Land sakes! Please be careful with that. It’s my Autoharp, and it’s easy to damage.”

  “Your what?” Curly’s face turned the color of a southwestern sunset as he shuffled his feet.

  Crystal immediately set him at ease. “You couldn’t have known.”

  She lifted the case and patted it. “It’s a musical instrument. I promise to play it for y’all sometime, Curly. How would that be?”

  “That’s a deal.” Curly smiled and pulled the last suitcase to the door.

  The drovers just about fell all over themselves in an attempt to help with her baggage. A faint trace of gardenia hung in the air as Crystal moved past the cowboys. Rusty and Luke just stood back and leaned against the fence to watch.

  Crystal supposed she should be flattered by all the attention, but now she didn’t think there would be much stimulating conversation or many parties way out here without neighbors for miles. And the dust. She hated it along with the dry heat. Luke, who looked amused by her very presence, was not what one would call sociable. He didn’t seem to want to be bothered with her any more than she wanted to be in this part of the world.

  Crystal fanned herself with her lace handkerchief and followed her aunt into the ranch house. Lord, what have I gotten myself into? What did I expect?

  The cool water felt refreshing on her face and neck and revived Crystal’s tired, dusty body. Patting herself dry with a thin towel, she noticed the room’s simplicity. A small fireplace stood opposite the bed with a crude rocker placed to one side. On the ancient, scarred, cherrywood bed were piled several colorful patchwork quilts, and atop the dresser was a pitcher cradled in a cracked rose bowl. A small lady’s desk sat beneath the window. Blue gingham curtains fluttered against the window frame. Someone had picked wild columbines and placed them on the nightstand, but now their petals drooped. Though different from her normal surroundings, she decided somehow this room seemed rather cozy.

  She was determined to make the best of the situation. This was better than having everyone back home feel sorry for her.

  She missed Lilly, and tears threatened to fall. No more Lilly pulling the covers back and laying out her nightgown. Crystal had begged her to come along, but Lilly wouldn’t think of leaving the South and her family. All of a sudden, Crystal felt homesick. She sighed deeply then and wandered out into the narrow hallway.

  The large front room was decorated with fine Indian pottery. Beautiful colored blankets adorned the walls, while an enormous fireplace of fieldstone boasted a huge elk head mounted above. Wood floors gleamed as afternoon sunlight spilled through spacious windows. Delicious smells wafted through the house and made her aware of her rumbling stomach.

  By the time Crystal stepped out onto the porch, just Kate and Carmen were sitting in rocking chairs. The ranch hands apparently had gone back to their respective chores. She assured her aunt that she felt human once again.

  Carmen stood and offered her a tall glass of lemonade. “Thank you.” She took the glass and smiled at Carmen, but the Mexican girl lowered her head. Crystal wasn’t sure if the dark-haired beauty was bashful or just couldn’t speak English.

  Carmen took a chair nearby, but Crystal felt her dark stare and sensed Carmen’s discomfort. Crystal smoothed her blue cotton skirt with its fitted shirtwaist. She noticed Carmen’s hurried movement to tuck her bare feet underneath her skirt. Crystal bent down to give her aunt a brief hug with her free arm before taking her own seat.

  “I see you’ve changed your traveling clothes to something a bit more comfortable,” Kate commented.

  “Yes, I did. It was pretty dusty on the trail coming here.” Crystal felt much cooler in the light-blue sprigged cotton dress.

  The lemonade was delicious, and the conversation grew animated as Crystal told Kate of her excursion from Atlanta through the Rocky Mountains.

  “I have to admit, Aunt Kate, the mountains are even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

  “I tried to tell you, Crystal. They are indeed incredible. Wait until you’ve had a chance to explore them.”

  After Carmen slipped back inside the house, the conversation turned serious. Crystal learned that since her uncle’s death, Kate was struggling to hold on to the ranch.

  “Last year was a hard one with low beef prices, and rustlers were stealing my cattle, trying to add to their own herd. I lost a few head to drought, because there wasn’t enough grass to fatten’em up.”

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Kate. I didn’t know.”

  “Without Rusty’s support and hard work from my ranch hands, and the good Lord . . .” She sighed. “Honey, last year might have been a very bleak one indeed. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start up complaining.” Kate gazed out into the front yard. Her shoulders slumped forward. Her stern face softened a bit, and she looked worn out. Crystal reached over to hold her hand.

  “Problems always appear to be larger than they are, especially when they’re your problems.” Crystal remembered her own burden of straightening out her father’s bills and dealing with the creditors. “The hardest thing I ever had to do was sell the family home, and I certainly didn’t want pity. My parents taught me that God has a purpose in our lives, and I’d like to believe that. I’m just not sure what that purpose is yet.”

  “You’re just like your mother, never down for too long. It is such a pity that her life was shortened by cholera—and you just ten years old. You are just like her.” A shadow crossed Kate’s worn face briefly, but then she straightened, and her face lit up. “With that attitude, you’re gonna be good for me, dear. I know it was hard for you to leave, but perhaps in time you will grow to like it here, Crystal. I’d love for you to stay. To tell you the truth, from your pa’s letters before he died, I thought you would be settling down with Andrew Franklin, unless I missed my guess.”

  Crystal rocked the chair back and forth in agitation. “Drew did propose, but I just couldn’t give him an answer. Not yet. I’m still not sure if I want to spend the rest of my life with him, let alone have his mother dictate our every move.”

  “You would be set for life, Crystal. His family wields a lot of power in Georgia, although a political lifestyle would not be my choosing.”

  “Comfort is important,” she said, not looking straight into her aunt’s eyes. “But, Aunt Kate, I’ve never been interested in power. Although I care for Drew, I’m not sure it’s the kind of love that will last forever. I worry sometimes that he is too involved in himself to be devoted to anything but his career. Perhaps time apart will answer many questions in my mind and his. I want to follow God’s leading for my future, and quite honestly, I don’t know if Drew figures into that plan.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. You have matured in more ways than one, and I know that my sister wanted a secure future for you, sweetie. Now, I’m gonna see to it that your future is brighter.”

  Crystal’s heart warmed with her aunt’s comments, and she was glad that she had someone to count on. It felt good not to be alone anymore, despite the new surroundings.

  2

  The bunkhouse was bustling with excitement at the arrival of the newest unmarried female within a twenty-five-mile radius. Luke watched the rest of the cowpokes with a taciturn yawn. He leaned back in his chair, stretched out his long legs, and propped them up on a nearby bunk. He began whittling on a piece of wood as he listened to the raucous cowha
nds. They seemed unaware that they had the chance of a columbine in a hailstorm, yet they were busy comparing notes on how to win Crystal’s affections. Luke wondered if she had even noticed the columbines that he’d placed on her bureau. Now he felt foolish that he had put them there at all. Surely she was used to exquisite roses—at the very least.

  “Well, you saw how she took to me right off, being the friendliest.” Curly lay in his bunk, chewed on a piece of hay, and folded his arms under his head to gaze at nothing in particular.

  Kurt strolled over to the cracked mirror, examined his rugged good looks, and smoothed back his thick hair. He twirled the ends of his handlebar moustache, impeccably groomed, between his forefinger and thumb.

  “My dear boys, a lady of her upbringing bristles at such friendliness. However, she will all but swoon at the display of charming good manners.” Kurt squared his shoulders, tugging at his vest. “I should know.”

  “Aw, cut it out, you two! I hear she has a beau back in Georgia. I bet more’n one,” Jube said, dusting his hat off against his leg. “I overheard Kate and Rusty talkin’, and I don’t’spect she’ll stay too long.”

  “Way I hear it, she doesn’t have a home to go to. Had to sell out because of debts her father left behind when he died. No lady reared in a fine lifestyle is gonna have nothin’to do with the likes of us,” Curly informed them.

  “What do you think, Luke?” Jube asked. Luke knew they valued his opinion in just about everything from calf branding to selecting prime horseflesh.

  Luke set down the wood he was whittling. He pushed back his chair, grabbed his hat, and in two short strides was at the bunkhouse door. “What I think is that we have better things to do than chew the fat’bout some blasted female that’s got her nose in the air and whose deepest thought is whether or not she’ll get to wear her ball gowns. Go back to your card games and quit wasting your time. See ya back at the main house for supper.” The door slammed behind him. He heard Curly ask the punchers, “What’s eatin’him?”

  Waning sunlight reflected its beauty against the silvery aspens, in sharp contrast to the sapphire-blue sky. The summer breeze sighed and sent a gentle shiver through the cinquefoil, a reminder that fall was on its way, and the alpine buttercups nodded in agreement. Luke breathed in deeply, savoring the pungent fragrance of spruce and fir. He walked through the woods and away from the noisy bunkhouse, where a game of cards was taking place.

  He reflected on the past ten years of hard work. He’d scraped every bit of pay to lay aside for the day he’d buy his own spread. He already had his eye on a section south that had fertile land fed by the Blue River along the Gore Range. One day it would be his.

  Not that he was complaining about the work. Kate was not just his employer but his friend as well. She treated him like the son she was never able to have. She’d taken him in when he was fourteen, right after his parents died of typhoid fever. Since then, there had been laughter and love to replace his sadness as a young boy.

  Realizing he had walked farther than he intended, Luke headed back to the house. In the distance he could see Carmen lighting the lamps. His stomach told him it was time for supper.

  “Around here, we don’t dress for supper except on special occasions,” Kate told Crystal as they made their way toward a sizable dining room. Crystal admired a well-polished oak table that could seat twelve people with ease.

  “I’m a very informal person, and my ranch hands dine with us, since we are small in number.” Kate’s blue eyes twinkled. “It makes life much more interesting, and I can keep better track of things. Go on over and sit down. The others will be along soon. Carmen has just about got everything ready.”

  “It smells wonderful, and I’m hungry,” Crystal said, seeing the food on the table. Looks like a fried pancake stuffed with something from the pasture, she thought. She just smiled.

  “Once you’ve tried Mexican food, you’ll wonder how you lived without it,” Rusty declared, hurrying to her side and pulling out a chair for her. He had washed up and changed his shirt to a red-checkered one that emphasized his freckles, and he’d slicked down his thick, unruly hair, which plastered his head like a wet red dishcloth. Crystal grinned and thought it sweet that he would try to impress her.

  As soon as she was seated, there was a mad scramble and scraping of chairs as the rest of the hands appeared. Kurt and Curly grabbed the chairs on either side of her. Jube sat across from her and helped himself to a plate of enchiladas. His fresh-scrubbed, boyish face and bashful look made him appear young. Rusty, she noted, sat at the opposite end of the table from Kate. Suddenly the room became quiet as Kate blessed the food and the hands that had prepared it.

  “Here, Miss Crystal, try these enchiladas. Carmen makes the best in the West.” She wondered at the wink Kurt gave everyone as he passed the dish to her.

  “Sí, es verdad. And these are tostados, made with beans, chilies, and corn tortillas,” Carmen said, while casting a look at Luke.

  The look did not go unnoticed by Crystal. She watched Luke stroll in and sit at the farthest end of the table with his hat slung low over his forehead. It had a slight roll at the sides, blocking the view of his eyes. You don’t have anything to worry about from me, she wanted to say aloud to Carmen.

  Crystal figured that Luke wore his hat low on purpose. That way no one knew if he was staring. And he was staring—at her. She wondered what he was thinking. She brought a forkful of the enchilada to her mouth in dainty fashion. Carmen paused with her serving and watched Crystal’s face.

  “Well, whaddya think?” Curly’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he spoke.

  Everyone in the room looked at Crystal. “Mmm,” she managed while chewing. Then tears stung her eyes as she swallowed and choked and gasped, “Water, please!” She could feel her face turning bright red.

  Kurt hurried to her side and offered her water that she managed to gulp down. Laughter exploded all around her from everyone except Kate.

  “Carmen! I thought I asked you to prepare a plate made with mild chilies just for Crystal,” Kate said, her voice rising.

  “Sí, señora.” She scurried off toward the kitchen. “I was just getting them.”

  “It’s my fault,” Kurt said, trying to keep from laughing. “I should’ve known not to pass those to her.”

  “Crystal, are you all right?” Kate’s face showed concern. She passed Crystal the sugar bowl. “Here, put a little of this on your tongue. It’ll stop the burning directly.”

  Crystal placed the sugar on her tongue. “I’ll be fine,” she said with more assurance than she felt. “Those were very hot. I guess I’m just used to fried chicken and biscuits.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to treat us to your specialty sometime.” Luke spoke for the first time since he’d walked in. “I’ve heard lots about Southern cooking. Maybe you could give us a sample.” He was shoveling in food like it was his last meal. He paused to wipe milk foam from his moustache and to give her a quick wink.

  Crystal flashed him an annoyed look. Was Luke flirting with her? Probably not.

  “Good idea,” Kate agreed. “It’s been too long since I’ve tasted any.”

  “I guess I could do that,” she said, helping herself to the special batch of enchiladas that Carmen held out for her. I’ll never pull that one off. Was that lying? Crystal knew she’d never be able to whip up a full-course meal with the Mexican girl’s ease. She wasn’t even sure she knew how to make the batter for fried chicken.

  Lifting her glass, she drank deeply, allowing the water to ease the mild burning in her throat, and looked around the table. With the exception of Kate, they were all eating like starved dogs. Table manners, apparently, were not high on their agenda.

  Crystal had a captive audience during the rest of the meal. She saw Kate look down at the end of the table and wink at Rusty, and he smiled back at her, rubbing his thumb back and forth across his beard.

  Kate pushed back her chair. “We’re going to have a party on Friday in your ho
nor, Crystal, so you can meet our neighboring ranchers.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Crystal replied. “A party sounds like fun. I want to know about your lives here. The countryside is so vast and different from Georgia. I can’t wait to get a better look.”

  “Do you ride?” Luke asked, with one raised eyebrow.

  “A little.”

  “Be ready at seven, then.” Luke stood up and doffed his hat.

  “Oh, and by the way, better ask Kate if she will loan you some of her britches. Those full skirts won’t do out here. Then I’ll show you a little piece of God’s country.”

  Crystal squirmed in her chair. He’d just assumed she’d want to go riding with him. “Why so early?”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want you to get sunburned the first day here, now would we? We like to treat greenhorns special. Besides, the days start at dawn and end at dusk around here.”

  “Oh, I see now, Mr. Weber. In other words, you go to bed with the chickens,” she teased. The cowboys around the table laughed at their banter.

  Luke ignored her comment and walked toward the door. “Thanks for those delicious enchiladas, Carmen.”

  Crystal thought that though Luke never appeared to be in a hurry, his long legs crossed the room in just a few strides. Abruptly the door closed behind him.

  The rest of the cowpunchers took their cue from him, it seemed, and in less than a minute they were heading back to the bunkhouse. That was it. No after-dinner conversation and retiring to the parlor for coffee. Crystal already missed home—even Drew. How in the world would she ever get up and be ready at daylight? Before Papa died, she was used to sleeping until nine and having breakfast with him. It was apparent to her that she’d have to fit into their crude environment if she decided to stay. Oh, Papa, why did you leave me all alone? her heart cried.