Ride for a Bride in Wyoming (Rocky Mountain Romances Book 4)

by Charlene Raddon

  Mable and Beth went still and silent, watching them.

  Annora began putting the refreshment things away. "You don't need to remind me of that. I feel it hanging over my head every minute, like a huge gray cloud."

  Standing, Lissette put an arm around her. "I'm sorry. I wish you didn't feel that way. I wish I could fix it all."

  Turning, Annora hugged her cousin, her anger spent. "But you can't, not without ruining your mother and father's lives."

  Mable cleared her throat. When Annora looked at her, the housekeeper gave a slight jerk of her head to Beth, who was staring at them in confusion. She had no idea what they were talking about.

  "Are you marrying Birth Struthers?" Beth asked.

  Annora sighed. "It's a possibility."

  "Oh, my."

  A knock came at the door, and Annora went down to find George and his friend waiting outside.

  "Miss Bostwick, this is Boone Jackson. He's visiting here from Montana, but he's done some carpentry and thinks he can help you."

  "Marvelous." She held out a hand. "I’m thrilled to meet you, Mr. Jackson."

  "Pleasure's mine. Call me Boone." He was an attractive man in his mid to late thirties or so. "I'm no expert on building doorways or doors. I'm in mining, actually, but I've had some experience, as George said. "Let's look at your project."

  She let them into the office and showed Boone the hole knocked out by Mr. Schmitt.

  "That's quite a hole for a doorway," he said. "Do you want it that big?"

  "No, I don't. He promised to build a door, but now he's disappeared."

  "Did you pay him in advance?" George asked.

  She nodded. "I guess I was rather foolish, wasn't I?"

  Boone winked at her. "You're not the first one to make that mistake. At least he left some tools here." He picked up a hammer and chisel.

  "Those are mine." Annora showed him the box of tools she'd accumulated. "I figure everyone needs a hammer."

  Laughing, Boone said, "You're right about that. Now, what sort of door do you want?"

  They talked about the door a while longer. George excused himself to take his wife home. Lissette and Mable had come down to watch the proceedings. Weary, Annora sat on a chair. It had been a busy week.

  With Beth's help, she had passed out notices, posted them in windows, and wandered the streets watching for any mistreatment of animals. She berated men for striking their horses and even invaded saloons to lecture men about leaving their horses standing for hours at a hitching rail burdened with a saddle without food or water. She caught two boys who were teasing a cat with a dead bird they'd taken from it. After marching them home where she lectured their parents about allowing such cruel behavior, she took the cat to the office and fed it.

  On Wednesday, she gave a talk at the Ladies Auxiliary Luncheon about the proper treatment of pets. "Animals," she told them, "are a blessing from our Savior, sent to serve us in some capacity, if not directly, by other means. Even buzzards help us keep our world clear of carrion and therefore, healthier."

  Afterward, as she walked home, someone threw horse offal at her from an alleyway. Someone had left a note on her door that read, Get out of town. You aren’t wanted here. She’d found other threats since then. In New York, she’d been warned this might happen. She put the notes in a drawer, ignoring them.

  The marshal had brought her a small black and white mongrel, a stray he thought might make her a good watchdog. She kept the dog in the lot next to the office during the day and inside the office at night to guard against burglars.

  The bell on the door rang, and Birch Struthers walked in. When he saw Mr. Jackson, he froze, a frown on his face.

  "Good morning, Birch." Her heart began a heightened drum beat in her chest. Had she forgotten how pleasant he was to look at, or had he gone to extra lengths with his appearance today? He wore a striped shirt with his usual blue denims and a leather vest, along with the ever-present boots and Stetson. "This is Mr. Boone Jackson from Montana. He's going to fix the new doorway for me."

  Birch shook hands with the man but showed little friendliness. "What brings you here, Boone?"

  "Passing through, actually. George Jenkens and I knew each other in Butte, and I stopped by to pay a visit." He turned to Annora. "I'm going to need a few things. Will it be all right if I return later?"

  "Of course. I do appreciate your help."

  He nodded, tipped his hat to Lissette and Mable, and left. The ladies insisted they had things to do upstairs and vanished, leaving Annora and Birch alone.

  "Well, Mr. Struthers," Annora said, "what may I do for you today?"

  He didn't smile. "Careful what you offer a man, Annora."

  "You're right, of course." She sat down at the worktable. "Let me try again. What are you doing here, Mr. Struthers?"

  "That's better, although I'd prefer that you use my given name." He studied the hole in the wall. "So, this Boone fellow was a complete stranger to you until your neighbor brought him in?"

  "Yes." Why would he ask such a thing? He couldn’t be jealous.

  He nodded. "What's this I hear about you being threatened?"

  She jerked in surprise. "How did you know about that?"

  "Lissette told me."

  Annora frowned. "She shouldn't have done that."

  "Is it true?"

  She rifled through the papers on her worktable and handed him a few pieces of paper. "See for yourself."

  Birch read the harsh words on each message, all similar to each other. "Any idea who is doing this?"

  "Someone who doesn’t like feeling guilty for how he treats his animals." She picked up her pen and resumed her work. Perhaps he thought Mr. Jackson might have been threatening her. "A rancher or one of their hands, I suppose. They seem more perturbed by my presence than most people."

  He placed his palms flat on the table and leaned toward her. "Why are you so sure we're all mistreating our animals?"

  She peered up at him. "I read articles handed out by the ASPCA about methods used in breaking horses, and the poor care given to animals."

  He straightened. "Hogwash. A rancher's stock is his livelihood. Why would he mistreat his main source of income?"

  "Ignorance, perhaps?"

  "I think whoever wrote those articles are the ignorant ones." He poked through papers on the table as if intent on reading the articles.

  "Why would they write things that aren't true?" she countered.

  Birch shrugged. "To sell papers, maybe."

  She laughed. "You think they can't find anything better to write about?"

  "Pretty evident they can't." He walked around the room, glancing into the storeroom before returning to the table. "I have a challenge for you."

  She raised an eyebrow. "What sort of challenge?"

  "To spend three days at High Plains learning how a ranch operates and how we treat out animals. The next competition won't take place until Tuesday, so I'll be able to show you the ranch myself."

  "I have work to do here." She hoped to paint the office walls. "And the door needs to be put up."

  "You don't trust this George fellow from the haberdashery?"

  She glowered at him. "Of course, I do. His wife is my friend."

  "Then trust that his friend will do right by you about the door, and take good care of your office."

  "What about my animals?" she said. "Who'll care for them while I'm gone?"

  He smiled. "What's the matter, afraid you'll find out I'm right and you're wrong?"

  Standing, she glared at him. "You think I don't know what I'm talking about regarding animal cruelty?"

  "No, I don't, and I'm asking for a chance to prove it."

  Ah, so that’s how he sees it. But time at the ranch would also give her an opportunity to teach him a thing or two. "All right. I accept your challenge. Will I be staying with Lissette and Chance?"

  "No, you'll stay at the main house. I want you available to witness ranch activities. Mable will act as chaperone."<
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  She scoffed at that. "Mable has enough to do without following me around."

  "She won't have to. She'll be there for propriety’s sake. "

  "So when do we begin this challenge?" She'd have to run next door to ask George to take care of her animals.

  "Pack a bag. I'll pick you up after the steer wrestling tonight."

  "I'll be ready."

  As she returned to her apartment, Annora wondered what she was getting into. She didn't know much of what happened at a ranch. Breaking horses, feeding livestock, and running steers from pasture to pasture, she supposed, but there must be a good deal more to it than that. Did they grow hay or some other crop? She wished she'd asked more questions.

  Really, Annora, you must learn to think before you speak. This would lead to a disaster.

  No, of course, it wouldn't. She could handle following Birch around and watching what he does. He said nothing about her having to participate in any of the ranch duties. She would watch, take notes, and remember to concentrate not on Birch Struthers, but on better ways he could treat his animals.

  ~~^~~

  Birch stood outside Annora’s office, preparing to mount Arrow when light footsteps approached from behind him. Thinking Annora had followed him out, perhaps with a question about her visit to the ranch, he turned.

  "Good morning, Birch." Charlotte Angstrom smiled, glanced through the window at Annora, and raised her voice. "I'm glad I caught up with you. I hoped to catch a ride to the rodeo."

  Sensing movement from Annora's apartment, he glanced up to see her at .the window. He couldn't say why it disturbed him, maybe because he wanted no one getting the idea he and Charlotte were an item. But why should he care? Annora was gaining admirers too, like Mr. Boone Jackson, and it didn't bother him. No, he refused to allow it to affect him.

  But it did. Soon, Annora would have more proposals of marriage than she could handle. He had to decide what he was going to do about finding a wife. The one thing he was certain about was that it would not be Charlotte.

  He swung up into the saddle. "Sorry, but I have an errand to run before I go there. I'm sure you can find someone else who'll take you on." He smiled as her frown deepened. Had she picked up on his double meaning? "Or you can walk. It's at the edge of town, you know."

  "Can't I go along with you on your errand?"

  "No, nor would you want to." He thought fast. What would best discourage her? "I have to haul a load of manure from the competition grounds."

  Her nose wrinkled before she gave a disgusted sigh. "Very well. I'll see you there later."

  He nudged Arrow's side with his knee and headed for the arena, glad to leave Charlotte behind.

  Birch liked the idea he'd come up with for getting Annora off everyone's backs. The ranch had been dull lately. Her presence would no doubt liven matters up. Plus, Mable could enjoy some female company. He refused to consider any notions about him enjoying Annora's presence.

  By the time he reached the wagon where his foreman unloaded pigs for the kids to try riding, Birch was whistling.

  "Glad you're in a good mood." Chance swatted a pig to move it from his way.

  "Yeah." Birch dismounted, looping the reins over the side of the wagon. "I think I've found a way to shut Annora Bostwick up about the way we treat animals."

  Chance's brows rose. "Didn't know her accusations troubled you. What's your plan?"

  "I challenged her to spend a few days at the ranch to learn what we do and seeing for herself how the stock is treated." A pig ran down the ramp from the truck and stomped on his toe as it passed by. Birch glowered at it.

  His foreman broke into laughter.

  "What's so funny?"

  Chance slapped a hand on his boss's shoulder. "You are. Ever since she arrived in town, you’ve been saying you want nothing to do with her. Now you've invited her to live with you for a few days? Come on, Birch. Doesn't that tell you something?"

  "Tell me what?" Scowling, Birch said, "She won't be living with me, simply staying at the ranch house, with Mable as chaperone."

  "Sounds like a good way for a man to get closer to a woman he's interested in, Boss Man."

  "I'm not trying—" He shut up as an undeniable truth struck him. He did want to know Annora better. Damn it, she intrigued him. Sheridan had never seen a woman like her before. He sighed. "Okay. I might not mind knowing her a bit better. Isn't that what you and Lissette wanted? I'd say it's important since we might end up hitched if I win the Ride for a Bride Race."

  "Stop scowling at me like that, Birch." Chance shoved the last pig out of the wagon and shut the gate. "We want you to be happy, which means keeping this ranch. If Annora can help you do that, we're all for it. For the two of you to come to care about each other would be even better. You know, it's you you're fighting, old pardner, not us."

  Birch refused to accept that Chance might be right. The way Birch saw it, convincing the woman that he, at least, did not abuse animals, would help to achieve peace in Sheridan.

  "So, when is this all going to take place?" Chance took out cigarette makings, but Birch shook his head.

  "I'm picking her up after the competition."

  "Charlotte Angstrom's going to love hearing about this."

  Birch spat at the ground. "Charlotte can go to hell."

  ~~^~~

  After Birch rode off, Annora resumed her work. When she turned a moment later, Charlotte Angstrom stood alone on the boardwalk, staring inside.

  The bell jangled as the woman let herself inside. "Hello. Is this your place?"

  "Yes.” Annora wanted to ignore her, but heard her mother’s voice in her head, lecturing her about being polite to guests, no matter how obnoxious they might be. “I'm a representative for the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Would you like to join?"

  She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous."

  Annora turned to the door. "If you'll excuse me then, I have work to do."

  Before she could escape inside, Charlotte said, "I worry that you might have developed the wrong idea about Birch and me."

  That was interesting. What was the woman up to? "What sort of wrong idea?"

  "That I might think Birch belonged to me." She removed her gloves and stuffed them into her purse. "You see, growing up, the two of us became so close, everyone assumed we would marry someday. But you know how life changes and, well, I don't think either Birch or I feel the same way as we did when young. I know I don't."

  Annora studied the woman. Honesty, or a lie? "Well, that's none of my business."

  "Of course. I simply didn't want to discourage you from going after him. Not because of me, for certain."

  Stiffening, Annora said, "I'm not 'going after' anyone, Miss Angstrom, so you've nothing to worry about."

  "Oh, dear. I've offended you. Not what I wanted. Please forgive me. I would like us to be friends."

  Annora wasn't sure she wanted that. Charlotte Angstrom rubbed her wrong somehow, and it had nothing to do with Birch. At least, that's what she told herself. "Don't fret over it. I've nothing against you."

  Charlotte smiled. "So, we might become friends?"

  Annora considered that improbable, but said, "Certainly."

  "Wonderful. I'll let you get to your work then. Perhaps, I can drop by sometime?"

  "If you like." Oh, please don't.

  "Thank you, Annora. Bye for now."

  Goodbye and good riddance. Annora watched the woman sashay along the boardwalk. Charlotte would be disappointed if she hoped to "drop in" for a visit in the next few days. Annora would not be home. She'd be at High Plains Ranch. What would Charlotte think of that?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "This will be your room, Miss Bostwick." Mable waved Annora into a large, bright corner room with windows looking west onto the Big Horn Mountains, and south at the various outbuildings of the ranch.

  "Call me Annora, please." She set her purse on the chest of drawers before ambling about the room, brushing her hand over the
peach-colored, crocheted coverlet. Flowered paper in matching tones covered the walls. Even the small upholstered chair at the dressing table matched. "It's a lovely room."

  "It was Birch's Aunt Caroline's room. A sweet girl, she drowned in Big Goose Creek one spring when the water was unusually high." Taking a cloth from her apron pocket, she dusted here and there where Annora failed to see.

  "That's so sad. Birch never knew her then, I presume?"

  "No. He's a bit poor when it comes to relatives. Most are in Philadelphia where Mr. and Mrs. Shank came from. Birch's mother tried to give him a sister or brother, but…not meant to be."

  "What a shame." Annora sat on the bed to test the firmness. "I've no siblings either, but my mother wanted it that way. She said one squalling infant was enough."

  "Now, that makes me sad." Mable shook her head. "Children are the joy of a woman's life."

  "Have you any, Mable?"

  "My, yes. Ten. I reckon they were the closest Birch came to having siblings."

  The bed had a high, carved, wooden headboard that appeared to be oak, though Annora knew better. Lissette told her in a letter once that there were no oak trees in Wyoming big enough to fashion furniture from. Carpenters used pine instead and meticulously painted it to resemble oak. "Where are they now?"

  "Two live in Sheridan. I have one in Cheyenne, one in Denver, and the rest moved to Butte, Montana. Except for Chance, of course. Wanderers, every one of them."

  Surprised, Annora said, "Chance is your son?"

  "Yes. He and Birch grew up like brothers and remained close. Little troublemakers is what they were, always creating some sort of nonsense."

  "They must have been a handful."

  Mable laughed, a rich, full sound that brought a smile to Annora's face. "Indeed, they were. Remind me to tell you sometime about the year of the outhouses." Waving Annora from the room, she pointed out a closet in the hallway. "You'll find clean towels and washcloths in there. You know where the bathroom is."

  "Yes, I do."

  "Fine. I'll get back to my kitchen then." She took a rag from her apron pocket and wiped away a bit of dust from the dresser. "The men will be in for the noon meal soon."