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

by Charlene Raddon

  "You and Hezzie or you and Charlotte?"

  "Both, but I meant the former. What are you doing here, Birch? Did you find some chore you wanted me to do? Scrub the outhouse, maybe?"

  He smiled back. "Come to think on it, it could use some soap and hot water."

  Charlotte's glance went from him to Annora and back. "Birch, you wouldn't."

  "No, I wouldn't," Birch said. "My goal is to teach Annora about caring for ranch animals. The only time you see critters get involved with an outhouse is when youngsters use a mule to haul one from its foundation at Halloween."

  "Or throw a snake inside in the hope of seeing some poor girl come tearing outside with her drawers around her ankles," Charlotte added.

  "Oh, now, that would be cruel," Birch said. "Boys'll be boys, but they'd never stoop to that."

  "Is that so?" Charlotte challenged. "Seems to me I remember that exact thing happening to me. I was seven, and you had the snake."

  Annora laughed. "Did you really do that?"

  "It's not the way I remember it." Birch drank his coffee, surprised to be enjoying himself. He'd enjoy it even more if Charlotte Angstrom left, though. "To what do we owe the honor of your visit, Charlotte?"

  "I came to see Annora is all."

  The woman in question raise an eyebrow but said nothing.

  Charlotte rose to her feet. "Time I left, though. Thank you for the coffee, Annora. I enjoyed our visit. Walk me out, Birch?"

  "Drink your coffee, Birch, I'll see Charlotte out."

  Birch watched the two walk from the kitchen down the hall to the "great" room.

  Moments later, Annora returned to the kitchen where she rinsed cups and utensils.

  "Do I dare ask what she talked about while she was here?" he asked.

  Annora glanced at him over her shoulder. "You, for the most part. Her favorite subject. Didn't you know that?"

  "What does she say about me?"

  "She heard about the Ride for a Bride Race. She’s concerned about you being so desperate as to sink to such a demeaning means of gaining a wife." Annora smiled while she turned to him, drying her hands on a towel.

  Birch had a sinking feeling inside. This could only mean more trouble. "Did you tell her you were the bride for the race?"

  "I didn't see the need. She'll find out soon enough—if I don't find a way to get out of it. But I will."

  "You seem pretty confident."

  "Desperation spawns clever solutions."

  "You might be right?" He gave a rueful laugh. He could get her out of it. He thought about it often these days. Hell, he was a lawyer, a good one. There weren't many contracts he couldn’t break, despite his difficulty with his own father’s will. He'd been wavering between taking care of matters for Annora and pretending ignorance. "Agreeing to the bride race was my desperate solution."

  "Why, Birch?" She leaned back against the sink and crossed her arms over her chest. Until that moment, Birch hadn't noticed what a nice bosom she had. Unusual for a woman with such a tiny waist.

  "You'll hear it eventually," he said with a shrug. "My father's will stipulated that to keep this ranch, I had to work it for one year and be married by the time the year was up."

  "Sounds like you don't truly want a wife." She dropped her arms and took a chair at the table. "If that's true, surely there's some other solution. A marriage of convenience, perhaps? You could get it annulled after you get the deed to the ranch in your name."

  "Are you offering your services?"

  "That wasn't my intention. Why don't you marry Charlotte? She seems willing."

  "Mice don't marry snakes, Annora. Tends not to turn out well for the mouse."

  She laughed. "I find it very difficult to imagine you in the role of a mouse."

  Hell, but he liked hearing her laugh. If joy had a sound, he reckoned that might be it. "What about seeing Charlotte as a snake?"

  "Um, that isn't quite as difficult."

  "I thought the two of you were becoming friends."

  Smiling, she said, "You aren't the only mouse in the house."

  ~~^~~

  Was Chance right? Birch had begun to doubt his own feelings and convictions. Annora Bostwick was a darn good-looking woman. Under Mable's tutelage, she would become a good cook. He loved her laugh and her full, genuine smile. She wasn't a liar or a shrew like Charlotte. Would it be so bad to be married to her? Maybe not, if he wanted a wife. All he wanted, though, was to run his ranch, raise bulls for use in ranch competitions, and prove to the world that his way of breaking broncs won better results than the old way.

  Bronc busting occupied today's agenda. So far, Annora didn't seem impressed with how High Plains took care of animals. He looked forward to seeing her reaction to his methods for breaking horses. Of course, she'd never seen one broken his father's way. Maybe he should take her over to Seven Aces, let John-B show her his methods. She couldn't help but appreciate Birch's after that.

  Half the ranch hands had gathered at the corral by the time Birch arrived. He opened his mouth to order them to find things to do elsewhere, then changed his mind. They'd watched him break horses numerous times. Today, they showed up to watch Annora's reaction. Why deny them that? He knew they approved of his methods. Maybe if she saw that, it would color her own response.

  Chance waited by the gate where they let in the horse to be worked. "Which one, Boss?"

  "The gray sorrel. He's got more fight in him. He'll provide a better test."

  "You got it." He strode off to fetch the sorrel who had yet to be gelded. Some ranchers used gelding as part of the means for taming a horse, but Birch preferred to win the animal over first. He gathered his saddle, blanket, harness, and rope.

  The laughter and excited chatter of the men told him Annora had arrived. She bantered with the men, exchanging insults along with the best of them, part of the reason they learned to adore her. It annoyed Birch, not only that she'd won his men’s admiration, but she might win their loyalty too. The fidelity of a rancher's hands was paramount to his success. But Birch refused to let his feelings show.

  After chatting with the men for a bit, she wandered over to where Birch stood. "Where are the horses you're going to break?"

  "Chance will be bringing the first one in a moment. Let's get one thing clear first. I don't want you climbing on the corral like the men do. It's dangerous. They know when to evacuate the premises and how to do it fast. You don't. Understood?"

  "Understood. I'll stay out of the arena... I mean, corral."

  He sidled her a look that warned against being cute with him. "If Chance orders you to move, you do it and fast. Got that?"

  "Got it. Want me to sign a contract?"

  Her mouth tightened in annoyance. Fine. Better annoyed than injured or dead.

  Chance appeared at the gate a bay stallion, leading him inside. A handsome animal, the horse had dark legs, mane, and tail. He held his head high, showing his high spirits. Nothing Birch liked better than a proud horse. He considered breaking them without killing their spirit paramount. He would never forgive himself for ruining a good horse.

  "Oh, he's beautiful," Annora said, moving closer to the corral.

  "Don't forget to stay back," Birch warned one last time before joining his foreman inside. They let the stallion run around the perimeter of the corral while they set the gear on the fence where it would be visible. Letting the horse get used to seeing the objects he'd be required to allow on his person was important. He would accept them better once he got over any fear he had of them.

  Inside, his lariat in hand, Birch let out a breath and reminded himself to forget about the woman watching. Nothing better than a distraction to cause death or injury. He couldn't afford to let her fill his thoughts and expect his task to go well.

  ~~^~~

  The bay danced around the corral, doubling back when he saw Birch approach. Annora saw the fear, the distrust in the horse's eyes and her heart went out to him. He had no idea what Birch intended or why. She wanted to
go to him, whisper in his ear that he was safe. But she stayed behind the corral. Chance stood next to her, but on the other side of the railing.

  "Birch likes to take his time with a new animal," he told her. "Let the horse get used to him and the sight of the saddle before he becomes serious about taming him."

  "I'm glad. That animal is too beautiful and proud to handle any other way."

  He had the lariat in his hand but made no move to rope the sorrel, simply let the horse run. Even when he stopped, Birch made no move toward him. She sensed he was testing the horse while letting it do the same with him. She admired that. Gus had told her how this job was done on other ranches, how they roped the animal's front leg so he couldn't move and gave no slack no matter how terrified the horse became. If the rope on one leg wasn't enough, they put a noose around his neck too, with men pulling them taut so that the horse could barely move. She had been horrified, finding it easy to imagine how frightening such treatment would be for an animal, a high-spirited and proud one like the stallion in particular.

  Several times the horse ran past where she stood. She made sure not to move, just watched him, willing him to know she was no threat, that he was safe.

  "Think he's ready for the rope?" Birch called over to Chance as he drew near.

  "Close. You can try it."

  Annora wanted to object but tucked her tongue inside her cheek to keep from speaking.

  Birch began twirling the rope, and the horse swung back the opposite direction. Birch followed. As the sorrel approached Annora's position, she moved closer to the corral, her hands on the middle rail.

  The horse trotted toward her, and her eyes caught his. He blinked and slowed, then moved on.

  "I'll be damned," Chance muttered. "I believe he saw you. You caught his attention somehow. I think he liked you."

  She said nothing, her attention on the dance going on inside the corral.

  The next time the sorrel approached, she caught his eye again and smiled, willing him to see her as a friend. The horse stopped, walked up to the fence and dropped his head over the top rail. Annora didn't think, she just responded.

  "Oh, you beauty," she crooned while reaching toward him. He sniffed her hand, snorted, and backed away, then returned.

  Annora heard the men exclaim at the unusual behavior, but kept her attention on the horse. When he dropped his head over the rail again, she reached in slow movements to stroke his forehead, all the while speaking to him in a low croon. The world around her froze, fading away. After what seemed like a long, long moment, the horse stepped back, walking with a confidant stride to the gate to be returned to the waiting pen.

  As if waking from a dream, Annora became aware of sounds and movement around her.

  "Never seen anything like it," someone said.

  "Woman's a genuine whisperer."

  She recognized Gus's voice, turning to gaze at him. He shook his head. "Woman, you have skills every rancher prays for. Bless ya."

  Birch appeared at her side. "How did you do that?"

  "Do what?"

  "Get him to respond to you that way? He was like pie dough in your hands. I had the feeling you could have done anything with him."

  "Don't be silly, Birch. He simply let me pet him is all."

  He laughed a bit shakily. "That's paramount, don't you understand that? Sometimes I spend days getting an unbroken horse to come that close to me."

  "Birch is right, Annora," Chance said, returning from letting the sorrel into the pen. "That horse responded to you in a way I’ve never seen one do with a person before. "

  She smiled. "I don't know what to say. Is today's session over with? Are we done?"

  "We're done. Go to the house, enjoy a long, hot bath or whatever you like. You earned it."

  As giddy as if she'd won a hundred dollars in a poker game, Annora did as he suggested, strolling to the house, aware of the men watching her in amazement and admiration. She didn't know how she'd done it, or for sure what she'd done, but she liked it. She hoped Birch had too.

  ~~^-~

  "Good Lord." Birch wiped a hand down over his face before scratching the whiskers on his chin. "Do you believe that?"

  "No. She has a gift, pardner." Chance chuckled. "If I were you, I'd marry her tomorrow just to keep her close by."

  "I can't marry a woman for the sole purpose of using her like a horse whisperer."

  "Then go through with the Ride for a Bride Race. Let nature take its course."

  Birch shook his head. "Can't be that easy."

  "It might not be that easy. But one thing's sure, you need to see to it the men keep quiet about this or you'll have a dozen other ranchers knocking on your door to pay court to her under your nose."

  "You may be right. She isn't planning to stay, though. She's going back to town tomorrow."

  "Then find a way to talk her out of it. I'll go home and talk to Lissette about it. Maybe she can convince Annora to stay longer."

  "All right." Once more, he shook his head. "Doesn't sit well with me, though. Like we're ganging up on her."

  "Then turn it into something else, Birch."

  "What?"

  "Woo the woman. Hell, seduce her if you can. Just keep her here."

  CHAPTER TEN

  "Annora. Annora!" A fist pounded on her door.

  She rolled over and glanced at the clock. 4:30 am. Something must be wrong.

  She dragged herself out of bed and hurried to the door, not bothering with a robe. Birch stood in the hallway. "What is it? Is someone hurt? Is there a fire?"

  He laughed. "No. It's time to get up. We're riding the range today to check cattle."

  She swallowed a groan and shut the door.

  "Meet me at the stable in fifteen minutes," he said through the wooden panel. "Wear your sturdiest boots."

  This time, she did groan. She wanted to tell him to come back later but knew that wouldn't do. He was testing her, and she refused to fail. So, she dragged herself to the bathroom to wash before dressing. The chocolate-brown split-skirt he'd insisted she needed had arrived yesterday. She put it on, along with a yellow, calico blouse and went downstairs. Her fifteen minutes were already up, but she grabbed a cup of coffee anyway. She couldn't wake up without coffee.

  Birch opened the kitchen's back door. "What are you waiting for? Come on."

  Last night she had thought she might come to like Birch Struthers. A lot. Now she knew better. Swallowing the last drop of coffee, she followed him to the door. He handed her a duster. "Wear this."

  "It's too big."

  "Wear it anyway. It will protect your arms and legs from being scratched by brush and tree limbs."

  Good heaven, where was he taking her?

  She put it on and walked with him to the stable. A three-quarter moon rode high in the sky. No sign of the sun coming up.

  Outside the stable, two saddled horses waited. "The mare is yours," he said.

  She looked at them. "Which one is that?"

  "You can't tell a mare from a gelding or stallion?"

  "We didn't own horses in New York. Many families did, but not Papa. When we needed to go somewhere, we hired a man to drive us."

  "Thunderation," he muttered. "So, you don't know how to ride a horse?"

  "Certainly, I do." She knew the rider climbed into the saddle and used the reins to show the animal which way to go. What more could there be to it?

  He shook his head, looking confused. "All right. I'll have to take you at your word. The sorrel is the mare. Mount up."

  The sorrel. Which was that? When he went to the other horse, she decided the one nearest her must be hers. "What is her name?"

  "Moll."

  She studied Moll, the saddle, and the stirrup. She watched Birch as he swung into his saddle. Reins in hand, she glanced around. Seeing a stool, she walked the reddish colored mare to it, stepped up, then slid her left foot into the stirrup as he had done. She tried to imitate the way he had swung his leg over the saddle. She swished her tail,
slapping Annora in the face. “Eww.” She wiped her sleeve across her mouth, hoping the tail had been free of manure, then tried again. This time, she used the stirrup like a springboard to hoist her onto the horse.

  She landed on the far side of Moll, who danced nervously away.

  Birch muttered and dismounted. He stood nearby but didn't offer to help.

  On a long exhale of breath, she returned to the left side of the mare to try again. She took the reins in her left hand and grabbed hold of the big knob at the front of the saddle again, slipping her foot in the stirrup.

  Moll decided it was time to go. "Whoa, whoa!" Annora danced on one leg trying to keep up with the mare. Birch took hold of the reins near the horse's mouth and drew her head around toward Annora, keeping Moll in place.

  Annora's fourth try brought success, and she settled into the saddle.

  "I'll adjust the stirrups," he said and did something that shortened them so she could slide her feet inside. She thanked him with misgivings, thinking how difficult they had been to reach before.

  "These are your sturdiest boots?" he asked.

  "You don't approve?"

  She could swear he groaned, but he said nothing more and mounted his horse again. With him leading, they rode out into the night, or rather, the predawn. Unable to see much, she kept as close to Birch as she could. Moll had ideas of her own. She decided she didn't want to go anywhere.

  Looking back, Birch said, "What's the matter?"

  "She won't move."

  "You have to show her you're boss. Jab her in the side with your knees."

  "Will it hurt her?"

  "Not if you don't jab too hard. Just nudge her."

  She tried it. Moll didn't budge. Annora tried again, this time, putting more oomph into her nudge. "Move, Moll. Go."

  The mare walked, but her gait lacked life.

  Birch groaned. "Moll, get up here."

  She trotted to catch up with him, causing Annora to bounce uncomfortably in the saddle. "Ow. Ow. Ow."

  "You'll get used to it," he said, working his horse into a trot.

  Annora doubted she could ever become accustomed to such misery. Why would she even want to?

  "Tuck your pelvis slightly forward." He demonstrated, except, with his duster on, she couldn't see his pelvis. To think of staring there brought heat to her cheeks.