by Linda Ford
He squatted to Mattie’s eye level and caught her by the shoulders. “Honey, never let anyone judge you by the clothes you wear, how much money you have or what you do. Those are outward things. Remember the verse Grandpa Bud says so often. ‘Man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.’ It isn’t the outside that matters. It’s who you are on the inside.” He tapped her chest.
Mattie’s eyes widened as she looked at him. “Who am I?”
He stroked her cheek. “A sweet, kind, cheerful little girl who likes to make others happy.” When she smiled, he would have hugged her right then and there, but she’d warned him she was too big to be hugged in public.
He straightened. “Now let’s take care of those invites.” He held out his hand to her and she took it, squeezing it as hard as her little fingers allowed.
They crossed to where Miss Isabelle stood looking out a window.
“Miss.”
She turned.
He swallowed hard. The miner was right. They didn’t often see such beautiful ladies. Nor one with such patient eyes. They revealed no sign of restlessness. That would come later. “You and the others are invited to join us at the ranch this evening for supper.”
She tipped her head in acknowledgment. “Thank you but I cannot accept or decline until I consult with Dr. Baker and Kate as to a method of conveyance.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll take you all there.”
She nodded. “Then if it suits the others, I accept. Thank you.” She stood before him, her hands folded, that silly scarf caught between her palms. Smooth as a kitten’s fur. Though he wasn’t sure if he meant the scarf. Or her manners. Or something else entirely.
He slid his gaze past her shoulder. “Where might I find Miss Young?”
The schoolteacher descended the stairs. “Are you seeking me?”
He extended the same invitation to her then hurried outside, where he filled his lungs with cool mountain air.
“Are you okay, Papa?” Mattie asked.
He settled his mind. Of course he was fine. Never again would a beautiful unsuitable woman be allowed to upset his world. He would ignore Grandfather’s matchmaking plans because he didn’t need or want a wife, and despite Mattie’s fascination with Isabelle, he knew she would be most unsuitable.
Chapter Two
Isabelle couldn’t help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Marshall and his daughter. Not that she tried very hard to ignore them. There was something appealing about the big man bending over his little girl. She was such a pretty thing and yet it seemed she wasn’t certain of it. How sweet to hear him remind her it was her inner qualities that mattered.
Those words made her press her lips together as a great yearning emptied her insides of every rational thought. Her mother and father had likewise doted on her. Cousin Augusta was genuinely fond and caring. Why couldn’t it be enough? Oh, Father God, why do I search for more when I have Your love? If only she could persuade herself it was all she needed.
Dawson Marshall and little Mattie left the hotel. Isabelle watched them standing on the sidewalk outside. He bent low to hear something Mattie said. And Isabelle’s chest grew tight. She rubbed at her breastbone.
Sadie joined her at the window. “Does that man frighten you as much as he frightens me?”
What an odd thing to say. “Frighten isn’t the word I’d use.” Intrigue? Confuse? How silly. Of course he didn’t confuse her.
“Really?” Sadie continued as they watched the man and his daughter. “He’s so big and I get the feeling he’ll tolerate no nonsense.”
“Maybe.” Isabelle didn’t see that as a negative. “He’s certainly fond of his little girl.”
Sadie agreed. “I wouldn’t want to do anything he might construe as harmful to her.”
“But you surely wouldn’t.”
“Not intentionally. But I have learned that parents often have a different view of things than a lowly teacher.”
At least Sadie had a place in society as a teacher. Though Isabelle did, too—as the heiress. Not a position she cared for. Her resolve returned. She intended to find for herself a role that proved her usefulness. A sigh eased past her lips at the enormity of the task.
Across the street, Mattie and her father stepped into the doctor’s house and Isabelle shuddered. She must conquer her feelings about sickrooms if she meant to help Kate and her father. Unless…
She turned back to Sadie. “When will you start teaching?”
Sadie wrinkled her nose. “I have no idea. The school isn’t built yet. The clerk over there—” she indicated the man at the desk watching them curiously “—says the town plans to start work on the new school next week. Says it won’t take long to complete with many hands on deck.” The way Sadie said it, Isabelle knew she quoted the man. “I don’t know what I’m expected to do while I wait.”
The poor girl rocked her head back and forth.
“I’m sorry.” So much for thinking she could help with the teaching. Lord, there must be something I can do to prove my usefulness. She’d keep her eyes and ears open. In the meantime…
“Supper. The evening meal.” She’d learned the correct terminology in the days it took to arrive at Bella Creek. “What does one wear?”
Sadie chuckled. “From my limited experience I would say most ranch families don’t dress in evening wear for the meal. What you’re wearing is fine.”
“Oh, but I’m all dusty from traveling. I must change.” Her trunks had been carried to the doctor’s house and she hurried across the street. In her haste she rushed through the door and straight into the chest of Dawson Marshall. She staggered backward.
Dawson grabbed her arm and steadied her. “Begging your pardon, miss.”
She shook her head. “My fault. I apologize.” His fingers burned a trail straight to her heart. No, that wasn’t possible. Putting a healthy distance between them, she pulled her thoughts together.
“Come, Mattie. We have things to do. I’ll be back in an hour to take you to the ranch.” Dawson practically dragged the child away, leaving Isabelle as out of breath as if she’d run the full length of the rutted street. She folded her hands together as a war of emotions raged through her. The certainty that Dawson did not approve of her. Determination to fit in. A chance to prove she had more to offer than a sizable inheritance. She would prove it once and for all.
She glanced about at the stacks of crates and travel bags. This would be the sitting room. The wine-colored sofa would fit nicely against the far wall, allowing a view out the windows—two faced the street, and another revealed the side view of ashes and bare ground. There were two armchairs. They should be placed between the front windows allowing good light for reading. A small stove warmed the room.
Doing her best not to think of the motherless Mattie and her doting father, Isabelle wandered through to the kitchen with its table and chairs, cupboards and a shiny stove radiating heat. Someone had wanted them to feel welcome. Or at least they meant to welcome Kate and her father, seeing as they hadn’t known she’d arrive with them. What would their opinion have been if they’d known? Some would immediately plan how many worthy projects they could persuade her to donate to. Others would be ready to dislike her solely because she had more money—much more money—than they. Very few would welcome her for no other reason than she was a young lady with a desire to prove she had something to offer other than her inheritance.
She stepped to a little room off the kitchen—a pantry that held only a few empty containers. Good thing they weren’t expected to make supper for themselves tonight.
There was something she could do right now…start organizing this household.
By the time Kate returned to the living quarters, Isabelle had put the dishes in the kitchen cupboard, a cloth upon the table with a lamp in the center, and a kettle full of water on the stove should anyone want tea.
“Wow. You’ve been busy,” Kate said with an approving look. “I appreciate y
our help.”
“It’s the least I can do. You’re in there helping your father. I surely want to do more than sit around and look ornamental.”
Kate chuckled. “Whether you sit or scrub dishes, you can’t help but be ornamental.”
“Far better to be useful. Here, help me move these things.” With Kate’s help, they rearranged the furniture in the sitting room and carried the trunks to the appropriate rooms.
Dr. Baker stepped from his office and sank wearily into the nearest chair. “I’m about spent. I wish we weren’t expected to go out this evening.”
Kate knelt at her father’s knees. “I can stay home with you if you’d rather.”
“Unfortunately,” Isabelle felt she must point out, “there’s no food in the house.”
“I think I saw a restaurant beside the hotel.” Kate looked out the window. “Yes, Miss Daisy’s Eatery. We could go there.”
“No,” the doctor said. “We’ll go. I’ll be fine.”
Kate did not look relieved. She had not quit worrying about her father since he’d been hurt when thrown from his wagon. He had lain unconscious for three days. Kate’s mother had died when she was young, so she was especially close to her father.
Isabelle turned away to stare out the window. In part she and Kate had become friends because they were both motherless. It had quickly grown beyond that.
Mattie was motherless, too. Isabelle’s heart went out to her. An idea blossomed in her mind. Perhaps God wanted her in this place for the purpose of befriending a motherless child. She knew a little how Mattie must feel and would willingly offer what comfort and assurance she could to the child.
*
Dawson wanted nothing so much as to ride out of town clear to the southern border of the ranch. He could assure himself his cows were safe and put from his mind the few fleeting images of Isabelle. He knew she spelled danger for him and his daughter. He’d leave right now but he had been tasked with taking the newcomers to the ranch, so instead he went to the livery barn and rented a carriage so they could ride in comfort. With Mattie beside him, he returned in an hour to the doctor’s house and stepped down to knock on the door.
Dr. Baker opened to greet him. Behind him stood the two young women. Miss Baker neat and tidy and rather ordinary looking. Miss Isabelle anything but ordinary looking. She’d changed into a dress that made her dark eyes seem larger and her skin more fair. The gown was blue—he supposed Violet would have called it royal blue. Violet’s memory served to bring his thoughts under control.
Doc already wore a heavy coat and the others reached for theirs. Isabelle’s was black wool with gold-colored frog closures.
The only reason he noticed such things, he assured himself, was that they had figured importantly in Violet’s life. The thought was filled with bitter regrets. The sooner he got this evening over with, the sooner he could shake the dust of town from his boots and head for the hills.
He assisted the young ladies to the backseat. Doc would sit in the front and he’d keep Mattie right beside him.
“We’ll get Miss Young and be on our way.” They stopped at the hotel and he assisted the new schoolteacher aboard.
“How far is the ranch?” Miss Young asked.
“The buildings are only four miles from town but the ranch lands extend far to the west and south.” Less distance to the north but they wouldn’t care about specifics. He glanced over his shoulder to speak to the ladies. And met Isabelle’s gaze. His thoughts stumbled and righted, and he remembered what he meant to say. “Have any of you been on a ranch before?”
“No. I’m anxious to see it.” Perhaps Isabelle spoke for all of them.
He couldn’t help wondering if she would be amused and entertained for a time or immediately bored by the realities of ranch life, much of it plain hard work, often repetitive and boring.
“Can you tell us a little about your ranch?” Miss Young asked.
Was she the only one who was curious? “My grandfather moved here just over a dozen years ago. He brought with him his two sons, my father and my uncle, as well as me and my two brothers—Conner is twenty-two, four years younger than me, and Logan two years younger than that—and our sister, Annie. My mother came, as well, but she passed away four years ago. My father took over the ranch and Uncle George runs the mercantile in town. According to Grandfather, he fought the elements, the Indians, the government, rustlers and gold miners to build a successful ranch.”
“And your grandmother?” Kate asked, gently.
“She died before we moved out here. Grandfather has never remarried.” He continued telling about the ranch. “We raise horses and cattle. The discovery of gold has given us a ready market for many of our animals.”
Mattie turned around to face the ladies. “You’ll like the ranch. It’s the best place in the world. Too bad you have to live in town.”
All the ladies chuckled at Mattie’s comment.
“Teachers have to live in town,” Miss Young said.
“So do doctors,” Kate added.
Dawson waited for Isabelle to say something. When she didn’t, he turned to look at her. She wore an expression he could only describe as both surprised and hopeful.
She blinked as she realized he watched her. “I have never lived anywhere but a city. I don’t even know what to expect.”
Mattie clapped her hands. “You are going to like it so much. It will be lots of fun.”
No one corrected her assumption that Isabelle would be living on the ranch. Or maybe Mattie only meant visiting.
He turned the corner where the trail climbed up an incline. They reached the crest, allowing them to see the ranch buildings in the hollow beyond. Pride filled his heart. “I was twelve when we moved here, full of excitement and expectation as only a young lad could be.”
Isabelle’s soft response came from the back. “I would say your grandfather was full of the same emotions.”
He’d never thought of that, but it was no doubt true. He pointed out the buildings. “The house greets you as you approach the ranch.” A two-story log-and-timber structure, it was big enough for many Marshalls, Grandfather had said on several occasions. “Barns, storehouses, harness room…” Dawson indicated the various buildings. All except the smaller house tucked into a copse of trees to the right of the main house, which he didn’t wish to discuss. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had an opportunity to warn Mattie and she pointed directly at it.
“That used to be our house before Mama died.”
A pall of silence fell over the occupants of the buggy.
“Now I live with Grandfather, Grandpa Bud, Aunt Annie, Uncle Logan and Uncle Conner.”
Doc recovered first, perhaps more accustomed to dealing with death’s consequences. “It would appear you have lots of people to love you and take care of you.”
“Yup. I surely do. Though Aunt Annie says sometimes I’m more nuisance than I’m worth.” She paused and Dawson held his breath, hoping his daughter wasn’t preparing another verbal explosive to drop on them. Now everyone would think she was neglected and maybe worse.
As if to prove his fears, a gasp came from the backseat. Dawson wouldn’t allow himself to turn and see which of the ladies was the most shocked.
“But then,” Mattie continued in a cheerful voice he hoped indicated she was well loved, “she kisses me right here.” She touched the top of her head. “And says she doesn’t regret it for a minute. She says life would be boring without me. That’s right, isn’t it, Papa?”
“Indeed it would.” Though at the moment he could do with a little boredom. Dawson had heard Annie teasing Mattie about being a nuisance, usually when she’d gotten into mischief, but his guests did not have that information. He spoke to them all but his eyes went only to Isabelle.
“Mattie makes it sound like my sister resents her but that’s not the case. She adores Mattie.”
He broke from Isabelle’s gaze to smile at his daughter. “Isn’t that so, little one?”
&nbs
p; “Uh-huh. She says she doesn’t know what she’d do without me.”
“That’s sweet,” Isabelle murmured. “It appears to be a fine arrangement for all involved.”
“It is.” He glanced over his shoulder again, saw Isabelle and Mattie eye one another with what he could only describe as longing. His insides twisted.
“Mattie, face front before you fall.”
“Yes, Papa.”
As his daughter turned around, he caught on her face an expression he hadn’t seen before and was at a loss to interpret. But a shudder crossed his shoulders. He must protect Mattie from being hurt by dreaming impossible dreams about Isabelle. How was he to do that when he had cows to check on? And a town to rebuild? And a hundred details to take care of?
*
Isabelle wanted to pull little Mattie close and hug her. A motherless child surrounded by adults who put up with her, yet, at the same time, loved her. Something in Mattie’s eyes convinced Isabelle the child wanted more…needed more. Though she had no reason to jump to such a conclusion. Nothing but the echo of her own heart.
However, they arrived at the ranch house and Isabelle didn’t have time to dwell on it. She looked about. This was her chance to see ranch life, and if she used it to observe Mattie’s home life, as well, who could judge her for that?
The house rose before them, solid and large as if built to withstand the challenges of nature. A wide veranda provided protection from the elements.
Dawson held his hand out to assist her to the ground. She meant to avoid looking directly at him but her gaze drew toward his and halted there. His blue eyes blazed a warning. Why? What had she done? She stumbled and he gripped her hand hard until she got her feet under her.
She hurried to the veranda, dismissing the moment as imaginary. He had nothing to fear from her and she wanted nothing from him. Turning to study her surroundings, she enjoyed a wonderful view of the treed mountains to the west. Her heart filled with strength and joy, and a Bible verse sprang to her mind. As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth even for ever. Calmness filled her. She might find it impossible to trust mankind, but she knew and loved God, whom she could trust. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
