by Alix West
“Be careful, Justin.” She leaned forward as if conspiring with the boy. “You came very close to smiling.”
With that, Justin pressed his lips together and resumed his solemn look.
“I didn’t buy you a ticket because I felt sorry for you. I bought you a ticket because I’m hiring you to be my companion. Is that understood?”
He narrowed his eyes. Slowly, he reached inside his shirt and withdrew a wallet. Cora noted, with surprise, that it was a fine men’s wallet made of soft leather. He opened it and reached inside, but Cora stopped him.
“Did you try to buy a ticket?”
He nodded.
“Ah, but you’re too young. They refused to sell you a ticket. Is that right?”
His lips twitched, and he lowered his gaze to his wallet, fingering the bills.
“There’s no need to pay me back. I’ve been alone for a very long time, and I’ve decided I don’t care for it.” She sat back in her seat. “Soon they’ll come along with a sandwich trolley. It’s too early for supper, but they’ll offer us something for tea. Sandwiches perhaps. Maybe even some cakes. I daresay, I’d like a cup of Darjeeling.”
He stared at her with what looked very much like disbelief. She waited, wondering if he would refuse her offer.
“Come, Justin, surely I can tempt you with a piece of cake.”
After a long moment both sides of his mouth tugged upward with a smile that was unmistakable, and this time Cora held her silence.
Chapter Four
Nick
The day’s work had started before dawn. Nick and his two brothers, along with the cowboys who worked for them, had ridden to the north pastures to round up the cattle and sort them. Half would remain, and the other half would be culled, and eventually herded to Fort Worth to the cattle auction.
Seth’s wife Laura and Will’s wife Charlotte came out midday. Charlotte drove the buckboard. Laura rode beside her. The wagon was loaded with food and drink for the men.
After lunch Nick sat with his back against a tree, debating whether he wanted to close his eyes for a spell. He had about decided it wasn’t worth the trouble, when he saw Charlotte and Laura make a beeline for him. They left the buckboard and walked with a purposeful step. He knew without a doubt that his sisters-in-law were scheming. Between the two of them, Charlotte had the better poker face. Laura was as sweet as could be and never managed to keep from grinning when she had something up her sleeve.
This was going to be about finding a wife, judging from their determined gait.
The two women crossed the grassy meadow, making their way past the ranch hands who lolled on the ground, either finishing their lunch or napping.
“Oh, Nick, could we trouble you for a moment?” Charlotte asked.
Laura’s smile widened. She walked a little more slowly than Charlotte, her hand set on the curve of her stomach. Just last month, Seth had announced they were expecting.
“Yes, ma’am,” Nick said warily, eyeing the newspaper in Charlotte’s hand.
She held it up and waved. “I have a newspaper from Fort Worth. There’s an advertisement that might be of interest to you.”
“Doubtful,” he replied.
“Wait till you see,” Laura said as they drew near.
The two women gathered their skirts and sat down on the grass, one on each side of him.
Charlotte held out the paper and read the advertisement’s bold print. “Miss Petit’s Bridal Broker, Boston Massachusetts.”
“Hold up, Charlotte,” Nick said. “I’ve already tried that route. Didn’t work out for me.”
“Ah, but not with a broker,” Laura said. “Miss Petit vouches for each girl.”
Nick sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes. Suddenly he felt tired and a nap sounded extra inviting. “What’s that supposed to mean? These girls come with a guarantee or something?”
“That’s exactly right,” Charlotte said. “Miss Petit meets with them and gets letters of reference. Then she pairs the girl up with the gentleman seeking a bride. She’s sort of like a matchmaker.”
“Some stranger is going to pick out a bride for me?”
Laura nodded. “All you have to do is send a letter telling a little about yourself.”
This was sounding worse by the minute. What would he tell Miss Petit? And how could he know if she would find him the right woman? Even if there was such a thing as a guarantee, what difference would it make if the woman had already come all the way to Texas?
“That’s mighty kind of you two ladies. Why don’t you let me give it some thought? When I have a little time, I’ll write Miss Petit a nice long letter. How would that be?”
Charlotte laughed. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, Nick Travis. Laura and I have already written one for you.”
“Come again?”
“We wrote the letter for you. I was ready to mail it, but Laura didn’t think that was the right thing to do, mailing a letter on your behalf.”
Nick frowned at the women, but neither seemed to notice.
Laura spoke. “This evening, after you men come in from the range, we’d like you to join us for dinner, so we can go over the particulars of the letter.”
Nick shook his head. “I’m not doing business with a matchmaker and I’m for darned sure not sending for another bride.”
Charlotte nodded. “You look like you slept in those clothes. Don’t you have help?”
“Sure, he does,” Laura said. “I sent over a woman to help with cooking and cleaning last Friday.”
“I didn’t like her,” Nick muttered.
Laura drew a sharp breath. “Did you run her off? Already?”
“No. She left on her own. Something about me being testy.”
“You don’t have anyone helping you?” Charlotte asked.
He shook his head. “I like the house to myself. That last one kept fussing about the way I kept things.”
“But you don’t keep things,” Charlotte exclaimed. “Your house is like a bear’s den.”
“It’s the way I like things.”
“Charlotte and I had a lot of fun writing your letter, Nick. We told Miss Petit how hard you work. How you’re the nicest of the Travis brothers, and tall and terribly handsome.”
Nick rubbed the scar that spanned his face, the result of being on the wrong side of a knife fight. “Did you tell them about my scar, too? I’m not exactly terribly handsome these days.”
Charlotte waved a dismissive hand. “That scar makes you even more handsome.”
“This is a bunch of nonsense. I’m not sending for a girl. Not now. Not ever.”
“We wrote how good you are with animals. How you’re gentle and patient.”
“Not with people. The older I get, the less patience I have with folks.”
Seth and Will wandered over, their smiles widening to grins. Nick felt a wave of irritation flare. He couldn’t feel angry with Charlotte and Laura. They were both sweet and fussed over him like mother hens, but Seth and Will were another story.
“These girls are tired of seeing you walk around with a scowl on your face,” Will said. “They think they have just the remedy.”
Nick gritted his teeth. “I’m not paying some stranger to pick out a wife for me. The next go-round, I’m going to pick her out myself.”
“You’d better hurry,” Seth said. “Because Laura and Charlotte are both fixing to do their own matchmaking.”
Nick shook his head and got to his feet. “All I wanted was a catnap before we got back to work. Then the four of you have to come pester me.”
“Come for dinner, Nick,” Charlotte called. “Soon.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said over his shoulder. “But I’m not talking about any fool letter to some woman in Boston.”
But Charlotte and Laura wouldn’t be deterred. Over the next few days, they tried time and again to coax an agreement from Nick. He kept himself busy. When one of Will or Seth’s men rode over with a note from Charlotte
or Laura, Nick dismissed them with an excuse of being too busy to accept a dinner invitation.
Almost two weeks later, the women arrived on the buckboard with what could only be a demand that he come for Sunday lunch, in a week’s time. They had arranged for two lovely ladies to join them. If Nick didn’t fancy one or the other, they were determined to write for a bride for him.
Unable to ignore them any longer, and perfectly clear they would not be put off, Nick agreed to lunch. The date was ten days away. Maybe he’d get lucky and it would get cancelled for some reason. Like a tornado. Maybe a flood or some other Biblical plague. Anything to keep him from having to discuss mail-order anything.
Chapter Five
Cora
Cora couldn’t explain why she was so drawn to the child. In the two days it took to reach St. Louis, they’d stopped in several towns. While the train took on new passengers at each stop, Cora and Justin stepped off the train to explore the station.
What started as a small adventure turned into an earnest study of sweets. Each station had several carts with vendors selling their wares. Sometimes they bought a hot sandwich, sometimes a bag of nuts, but always they returned to their compartment with a small bag of candy.
Justin tried to pay for his purchases, but Cora always waved off his attempts, telling him to save his money. She teased him about his wallets, saying she’d never met a boy with three different wallets. For some reason, that made him chuckle. What was funny about a wallet collection, she couldn’t imagine.
The boy ate twice what Cora could at mealtimes, but when it came to the sweets, she noticed he took only small amounts. He was shy about the treats, despite Cora telling him he could have as much as he wanted.
“We might never have another chance to eat sweets from this particular spot, Justin. Take what you want,” she would tell him.
They wandered the streets near the train stations, exploring each town when time permitted. Justin was young, probably just eleven or so, but he was shrewd. When she stopped to buy each of them a candy apple, a beggar asked for a coin. He was limping, and when she reached for her purse, Justin stopped her, setting his hand on her arm. Later, as they returned to the station, Justin pointed out the man as he strolled into a pub across the busy street.
The boy seemed to have a sensibility about people that Cora couldn’t understand. It was an awareness, she supposed, born of necessity.
The seats in the compartment folded down to make beds. While they weren’t terribly comfortable, Cora was grateful not to be in second class where passengers had to sleep upright, in chairs. Justin didn’t seem to mind sleeping on the makeshift bed on the other side of the compartment, but he refused to take his boots off. It was as if he wanted to be ready to run away at a moment’s notice. He slept, curled up like a small wild creature, his hat pulled down over his eyes.
At night, Cora watched him sleep. She wanted to fuss over him, tuck the blanket around his narrow shoulders, or pat his shoulder as her mother would do when Cora was Justin’s age. On the second night, she gave in to the urge and patted him gently. He flinched, but reached around and set his hand over hers and smiled. On the third night, as she drifted off to sleep, he reached across the space between their bunks and returned the gesture.
When they arrived in St. Louis, Cora had to change trains. Justin followed her off the train, trailing behind the porter. The station was even busier than Boston. Looking around in awe, the boy appeared so small and vulnerable, Cora’s heart squeezed with pain.
Trains rumbled down the track, shaking the ground beneath her feet. People hurried past, scowling at others who weren’t moving fast enough. She pulled her cloak tighter and took Justin’s hand in hers.
“I’d like you to come with me the rest of the way,” she said as they approached the Texas-bound train. “I’d feel better about traveling if I didn’t have to go by myself.”
Justin squinted at her and slowly looked away to study the train. He clasped the fabric of his threadbare pants with a nervous flutter of his fingers. A cold breeze blew past, carrying a cloud of smoke from the locomotive. He shivered.
If he didn’t agree, he’d leave her, vanish into the crowd without so much as a coat. She yearned to reach out to him, fold him in her arms and never let go. She had little money, but she would gladly spend what she had to buy him clothing that fit, a coat, and perhaps even a better cap than the moth-eaten one he rarely took off.
“We can help each other, Justin. I’m going to live on a farm, or a ranch. Whatever it is they call those things in Texas. They always need another pair of hands on a ranch. David Tarrant has 25,000 acres. I’m sure he’ll be happy I’m bringing a clever and industrious boy.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded. She smiled and felt so happy, she almost hugged him, but held back.
“We’re partners now. You can be my ears and I can be your voice.”
He nodded and surprised her with a tear-filled look.
She wished she could clothe him in something better than what he wore, but didn’t want to press matters. There was no time. The train would depart soon, and she sensed that her offer might offend him, or in some way, be too much.
They boarded the train and when the porter stowed her luggage, she paid him for Justin’s ticket. The man glared at the boy, clearly disapproving of his shabby clothes. Justin didn’t notice. He sat by the window taking in the sights of the train station in the moments before departure.
After the porter left, Cora remained standing by the doorway, watching him. She’d never taken care of anyone before. When she told her brothers that she wanted to marry one day and have children, they’d laughed in her face. Both insisted she wasn’t fit to care for anything, much less a helpless baby. Here was her first chance, she decided. She’d take care of Justin… and in his sweet, childlike way, he would take care of her.
Soon after, the train pulled out of the station. Cora sat across from Justin and noted a difference in his expression. The drawn, worried look was gone. Instead, he watched the passing landscape with a brighter, hopeful look. They were heading toward their new life and she felt a stirring of excitement too. In two days’ time, they’d roll into Colter Canyon.
David wouldn’t be expecting her, but she would find him.
That evening, it began to rain. And rain. Since they couldn’t see much of anything outside, Cora took out a book, a volume of Oliver Twist. She read aloud to Justin who sat quietly, taking in every word. She wanted to ask him if he knew how to read. One day, she would ask him, and if not, she would offer to teach him.
The hour grew late. The attendant made up the beds and Cora read until Justin fell asleep. She turned down the lamp. The stormy night was black as pitch. Lightning slashed the sky and lit the countryside. Flashes illuminated fields and farms, valleys and hills.
Throughout the night, it continued to rain. The next morning, they woke to leaden skies, and, after a short reprieve, more rain.
Cora took Justin to the dining car to eat breakfast. “I feel as though we’re swimming to Texas.”
He regarded her with large, solemn eyes and nodded.
She sipped her tea and set the cup down on the saucer. “Not to worry. It’s all part of the grand adventure.”
He blinked and turned his gaze out the window. His shoulders were tense. The fretfulness had returned. Soon they would be in Colter Canyon and she’d do what she could to ease his worried mind. What sort of life had he lead up until their meeting a few days ago? She shuddered to think about a child as small as Justin alone in the world.
It might take some convincing, but she was determined that she would persuade David to give the child a home. If David didn’t want Justin, that would tell her a lot. She would refuse David. She would go her own way. What she would do in Colter Canyon, without a husband, she couldn’t fathom, but this was the best plan she could think of, for now.
Chapter Six
Nick
The unceasing rain made Nick wonder if
his prayers for divine intervention had been granted. The flooding roads would be a good excuse to avoid Charlotte and Laura. The streams around Colter Canyon overflowed their banks. Streets turned into muddy, impassable swathes. The heavy rainfall, combined with strong winds, toppled several big oaks. Fortunately, his house and barns were spared.
Other ranchers in the area weren’t so lucky. The neighbor’s barn suffered damage when a tree toppled on the roof. Few people in Colter Canyon owned heavy draft horses, but Nick had bought a pair the year before. The gentle giants interested him, and he kept them more as pets than work horses. After he hitched them to the buckboard, he spent the morning lending a hand to his neighbors.
Midday, word came from town that the train track from Sutton Falls had been washed out. An alert townsperson noticed the damage and rode down the line to flag down the train. A tragedy had been avoided, but the train was stranded, two miles from town.
Nick finished helping the neighbor and turned his team toward the stranded train. The horses could navigate the sodden roads far more easily than any other horses in Colter Canyon. He was the first wagon to arrive. A small crowd huddled around a fire, trying to keep warm. It was no longer raining, but the overcast afternoon held a biting chill.
The group was comprised mostly of cowboys and ranch folk, but there was one passenger who clearly stood out. A woman. The only one. Nick noticed her from a distance and kept his attention on her as he approached. She stood apart from the group with a young boy at her side. Her hair was a flame of golden red, a stark contrast with her muddy surroundings.
The woman had to be passing through Colter Canyon, heading west to California, maybe. He stopped the horses and climbed down from the wagon. A few of the cowboys greeted him by name.
“I can take about twenty. Fifteen if you’re taking saddles and trunks. Another wagon will be along later.”
He turned away from the men and walked over to the woman, stopping a few feet away. She regarded him warily. The boy regarded him with the same cautious expression.
