Rania Ropes a Rancher
A Historical Western Romance
Brides with Grit Series: Book 1
Copyright © 2014 by Linda K. Hubalek
Published by Butterfield Books Inc. at Smashwords
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to vender and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting this hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Except for the history of Ellsworth, Kansas that has been mentioned in the book, the names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
A clean, sweet historical romance set in 1873.
DESCRIPTION
Rania Hamner and her family emigrated from Sweden fourteen years ago to work on a Texas ranch, working cattle and herding them up the Chisholm Trail. Something in her life on the trail caused her to doubt her worth, and her ability to trust a man enough to become his wife. Once the family buys a homestead in Kansas, she meets a rancher who begins to make her believe she can trust and fall in love after all.
Rancher Jacob Wilerson noticed Rania last year when she rode drag behind a herd of longhorns—right down Main Street of Ellsworth, Kansas. He’s been waiting for her family to return this spring with another Texas herd to the booming cowtown, because he hopes to rope her into staying permanently on his ranch—the way she had already roped his heart.
When Rania’s past attacks with new danger, she decides to fight for all she’s worth because she realizes she wants to be with Jacob forever.
When Jacob realizes Rania is in danger, he rushes to save her, whether or not she still loves him, hoping to rope Rania—his heart—once more, as she has roped his.
Dedication
To ranch women, past and present—
you are the heart of the Ranch.
Prologue
May 2, 1872, Ellsworth, Kansas
Jacob Wilerson stood on the dusty boardwalk on the north side of South Main in Ellsworth, marveling at how the town had changed in the five years since the town’s birth. Wooden buildings of all sizes and shapes, mostly with false fronts, mixed in with a few brick establishments like the bank on the corner. The Ellsworth Café. Miller’s Livery. Homestead Hotel. Bold painted signs hanging above the business door or painted on the front of the buildings. The first businesses sprang up overnight in tents and shacks. Some of them are long gone, but other businesses have taken their space. The dirt streets—once an original carpet of prairie grass—varies from muddy ruts, hard-packed snow and ice, to hot powdery dust, depending on the weather conditions and time of year.
There wasn’t a tree in sight; buildings just cropped up on the prairie with the wide–open sky as a backdrop.
Jacob was fourteen, ten years ago, when his folks brought their young family out to the virgin prairie of the Kansas Territory to escape the Civil War. He and his older brother Adam and younger sibling, Noah, each a year apart from Jacob, were at the age they would soon be pulled into the war if they didn’t leave civilization behind.
They left Illinois and kept traveling west, past the Kansas and Missouri border problems, to central Kansas. His father Moses filed a claim on homestead land between the Clear Creek and the Smoky Hill River, two miles south of the Butterfield Overland Route that ran from Kansas City to Denver. But within a few years, forts were established along this same route to handle the Indian uprisings. Fort Harker was built two miles west of their claim and Ellsworth five miles further west. Now their peaceful, private prairie teemed with businesses, people and more cattle than a person could ever imagine—because now the railroad traveled across the prairie too, bringing civilization with it.
Of course his family had changed, too. Adam was now the marshal for the little town called Clear Creek north of their ranch. Adam said he was never going to marry because of his chosen profession. Noah homesteaded the land next to his parents and was writing to a girlfriend back in Illinois.
Jacob had taken charge of the original land when his father died three years ago. His mother Cate and sister Sarah still lived with him. He was marrying age, twenty-four, but hadn’t met the right woman yet to take on ranch life.
Jacob didn’t mind being close to towns and supplies. It made life easier, and hopefully would bring more women and families this way. Even though the extra cattle that the drives brought up each spring brought good income to town, it also brought noise, smell and ruckus when herds—and cowboys—got riled.
The herds grazed south of town and used the river as their water source, until it was time to load them onto the trains heading to the Eastern states. Groups were brought across the river and down the street to the pens and chutes that would load the animals onto railroad cars.
Right now the noise—and dust level—rose as a new herd trotted right down South Main Street. Everyone scattered out of the street when they heard the rhythm of the hooves hitting the packed dirt heading for the rail yards. It was beginning to be an everyday occurrence as thirty thousand head of cattle were expected to arrive and ship out of Ellsworth over the next few months. That’s a lot of dust, mud and manure.
Abilene was once the main cowtown, but drovers switched to Ellsworth this year as the train tracks went farther west now, and the Abilene businessmen and area ranchers were tired of the giant herds and Texas Fever cattle disease that encompassed Dickinson County spring through fall. There were around forty thousand cattle shipped out of Abilene last year, and Jacob couldn’t fathom that many longhorns roaming around Ellsworth County this summer—but they were starting to arrive.
The cattle streamed past Jacob’s view in a river of dust and color, kept in line by the front leader and side riders. A group of ten cowboys could handle a twenty-five hundred head herd, and so far Jacob had counted six riders. Foot and wagon traffic was put on hold for several minutes, and horses tied to the hitching posts along the edges of the boardwalks crowded up against the posts, warily watching the horns as they passed.
As the last of the herd went alongside, Jacob noticed the cowboy riding drag. As the dust thinned, Jacob saw a split skirt on the rider instead of trousers. It was unusual to see a woman riding drag, but she appeared confident and capable in the job.
Actually, all he saw of the woman on the side facing him was a thick layer of dried mud coating her body and the horse’s. It looked as though she and her palomino paint took a wild slide down the river bank while herding the livestock across the river. Between her wide-brimmed hat pushed low on her forehead, and a bandana covering her face, Jacob couldn’t even see her eyes. When the woman passed, he saw a waist–length blonde braid down her back—and even it was muddy.
Jacob snapped his head down the walk as a woman screamed and yelled to someone who was between the two of them. A longhorn bull had done a quick right turn, heading straight to the boardwalk, and toward a frightened child, who was stock still and staring at the giant animal.
Before Jacob could run down the twenty feet to the little boy, the horsewoman trailing the herd, snapped a lasso through the air which landed around the six-foot spread of the bull’s horns. She yanked the rope back hard with her right, gloved hand at the same time her horse jumped backwards, snapping the animal’s head back from its disastrous route. Both bull and boy were bawling at once, but the
horse and rider just pulled the animal back onto the route of the herd, like it was an everyday occurrence. The woman was attuned to the livestock, but she also saw the child in danger in an instant, and took care of both.
Now that’s the kind of wife he needed, someone who could ride, rope, handle livestock and children—a woman with grit—and Jacob wondered if this particular one was married or single.
Chapter 1
April 26, 1873, near Clear Creek, Ellsworth County, Kansas
Jacob Wilerson whipped his head to the west when he heard the shrill call from a horse somewhere in the distance. He touched his knees against the sides of Duncan to halt the buckskin gelding. After the horse’s snort of acknowledgement, Jacob cocked his head to listen again for the other horse.
The light breeze and warm sunshine made a perfect spring day for the leisurely ride home the two of them were having on their return from the Cross C Ranch. Jacob was lost in thought about the string of horses he just delivered to the neighboring rancher six miles east of them. He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings while they roamed along the small canyon above the banks of the Smoky Hill River.
His eyes, shaded by the wide–brimmed hat, scanned the fresh, green, waving grass of the Kansas prairie, trying to locate the distressed horse. The prairie birds’ trills, which had blended in with the whispering movement of the grass, stopped abruptly like they were listening too.
The other horse neighed loudly again, enabling Jacob’s ears to pin the direction it came from. Jacob’s right hand touched the reins on Duncan’s neck to turn the horse toward the danger while the other pulled his rifle out of the saddle’s scabbard. He’d been caught daydreaming, which was never a smart thing for a lone rider to do out on the open prairie.
He nudged Duncan slowly forward until he could see the other horse’s head over the top of the sloping edge of the canyon. Easing forward in the saddle, he could see a palomino paint prancing in place; its reins seemed to be held firmly down to the ground.
The Hamner family from Texas came to mind because they bred and sold this crossbreed of horses. Jacob had heard the Hamners were back in the area with their latest cattle drive, but he hadn’t seen them yet. He was also excited to hear they bought the nearby Larson ranch to live here permanently.
Jacob scanned the area again, looking for another horse, person, or movement in the rocky cropping above the scene. But all seemed quiet except for the agitated horse.
Just then the horse moved, and Jacob spied a light–colored sleeve hanging mid–air clinging to the rein that was keeping the horse from trotting off. Lying on the ground, dangerously close to the prancing hoofs, lay a still body, half hidden in the new growth of grass.
“Ha,” Jacob hoarsely whispered to push Duncan forward, while still scanning the area for unseen trouble. Duncan perked up his ears as he smelled the mare and eagerly closed the distance between them. The tall mare released a shudder of relief that they had been found, but moved warily between him and her rider. Jacob knew the mare wanted to raise her head higher and be ready to attack as they got closer, but yet she respected the reins hold of her unconscious rider.
Jacob stopped Duncan twenty feet away and slowly swung his right leg over the saddle, quietly dropping his feet to the ground. He dropped his horse’s reins, thus silently telling Duncan to stay where he stood. Jacob cocked his rifle and slowly walked around Duncan who had been shielding Jacob, in case the person on the ground swung a loaded revolver toward them.
Jacob took one slow step at a time, glancing between the mare and the person on the ground. “Whoa there, horse. It’s okay. I just want to help your rider.”
The horse pranced around and Jacob was scared the horse’s hooves would step on…the woman.
A thick blonde braid lay sprawled across the grass, probably exactly where it landed after flying through the air when the woman was unseated from the saddle. She was lying on her right side, toward Jacob, with her head resting on her right arm. Her elevated left hand was wrapped around a single rein, keeping the mare close behind her body. Jacob studied her chest, whispering a prayer of thanks when he saw it was still moving with her breaths. Her wide–brimmed hat lay a few feet away where it fell when she took the tumble from her horse.
The woman wore a light brown spilt skirt, cream–colored shirtwaist and an unbuttoned men’s style, brown wool vest with lots of front pockets. A trickle of blood crossed her forehead, slowly seeping onto her shirt sleeve below her head.
Did she get shot, or hit her head when she fell? As the horse flitted around, light caught the glint of fresh blood on the seat of the saddle. Maybe she was hurt before she slid out of the saddle?
Jacob’s eyes widened with recognition. He’d first seen that distinctive swatch of blonde hair a year ago when a trail drive came into Ellsworth. He remembered this horse and rider, both covered with mud, were riding in drag behind the herd of Texas longhorns.
Later that same day, he’d met and passed her walking with two other women on the Main Street boardwalk. He was conversing with his brother Adam, and wasn’t paying any attention to who else was sharing the walk until they passed the women. Jacob glanced back to see the three wore similar large, slouch hats; the older woman wore a long skirt; one of the younger women sported men’s trousers; and this one, a half foot taller than the other two, was wearing a split skirt, although most of the caked mud had been brushed off. You could tell all three were related, but their different personalities showed by their choice of attire. Jacob had guessed it was a mother and her two daughters in their early twenties.
The woman in trousers then walked backwards to watch him and Adam, smiling and waving until the older woman tugged her sleeve to turn back around. The other young woman peeked more discretely over her shoulder at them, and smiled when she saw Jacob staring at her. Just then Jacob’s feet boots faltered, causing him to fall off the boardwalk into a pile of horse turds. Adam laughed so hard he could barely lend a hand to help Jacob out of the smelly mess.
By chance and luck, Jacob worked with her family, the Hamners, for a couple of weeks while sorting their cattle at the Ellsworth rail yards. Jacob hired on with the railroad to work during the cattle drive season to supplement his ranch income.
The Hamner parents, Oskar and Annalina—and all the siblings: Leif, Dagmar, Rania and her twin Hilda—were proficient riders and stock handlers. The Swedish immigrants worked well as a team, rarely calling out to each other because they sensed one another’s motions.
How he wished he could see that sweet Swedish smile spread across her pretty face now. He had missed Rania when the family left for Texas, and he’d been eagerly anticipating her return this spring, especially with the news that they were permanently moving to the area. Jacob’s heart missed several beats seeing her like this—because she was the woman he had recently decided to court now that she would live nearby.
Jacob slowly walked a wide circle around the horse, trying to get the mare’s attention and her hooves away from the woman. Her perked ears and eyes followed his every movement, wary of Jacob’s presence. The horse finally jerked the reins out of the rider’s gloved hand and edged toward Duncan. Jacob slowly walked toward the woman, keeping an eye on the horse in case it whirled toward him.
Jacob knelt down, placing a hand on the arm that had fallen with the loss of the rein. “Miss Hamner? Can you hear me? Rania?” Jacob’s soft words caused the woman’s light blue eyes to flutter open, but they had a glazed, confused look before closing again. She drew her shoulders and arm forward in a wince, and brushed her left hand across her forehead, spreading a smear of blood from a cut there into her fair hair. Then she moved her hand to cup her abdomen, her face grimacing as she did so.
Jacob leaned over Rania, slowly and gently running his hands over her limbs and trunk, feeling for any broken bones, but not finding anything obvious. Jacob blew out his held breath, relieved that there were no obvious breaks, but you never know when a person is unconscious.
> “Miss Hamner? I just found you here on the ground. Did you get bucked off?” Jacob gulped when she turned onto her back and he saw spots of blood on her skirt between her legs. Oh no. Did the horse step on her after she had fallen? How would he move her if she had a crushed pelvis? He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, thinking about the pain this poor woman could be enduring.
But then he looked back at her horse and remembered there was already blood on the saddle.
“No.” Jacob could hardly hear her faint word, so he leaned over her head to hear her better. Her eyes were still squeezed shut. “I slid to the ground when I was blacking out.”
Jacob sat up on his heels, letting out a breath of relief, but he still had a distressed woman to help.
“Well looks like you cut your head landing on a rock…and something else is going on, too. Think you can handle me getting you back into the saddle? I can ride behind you and get you into town to see the doctor.”
Her hand moved from her abdomen to put her palm up in the air as a signal to stop him. “No! I can’t go anywhere until this is over, and I can’t be seen by the doctor or my family.”
“Well Miss Hamner, I can’t leave you lying out in the open prairie like this. You need help and you’re going to get it.”
When her light–blue eyes opened and searched his for understanding, Jacob caught her recognition of him.
“Are you the marshal?” That whispered line pulled her hand back from his.
Well, that’s just great, I want to court her and she doesn’t know who I am? “No, I’m Jacob Wilerson. You’re thinking of my brother Adam, the marshal in Clear Creek. We both have light brown hair, mustaches and look somewhat similar—I guess.”
Jacob hesitated, then continued, “I helped your family at the Ellsworth rail pens last year, sorting and loading cattle onto the trains…” And I thought of you for the whole year since.
“Oh, now I know which Wilerson you are…the one who asked questions all the time.” Rania’s body relaxed a bit so she must have remembered his attention and bantering with her last year. And it was good to see she had her senses about her, not totally befuddled after she hit her head.
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