Tame a Wild Bride, a Western Romance

by Cynthia Woolf

  Tame A Wild Bride

  By Cynthia Woolf

  Cynthia Woolf

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright 2012 Cynthia Woolf

  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 to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Books written by Cynthia Woolf can be obtained either through the author’s official website:

  www.cynthiawoolf.com

  or through select, online book retailers.

  For Jim, my husband, my best friend, my lover and my rock. I love you, Sweetie

  I would also like to thank my critique partners, without whom this book would never have gotten finished. Thank you – Michele Chambers, Jan Snyder, Karen Docter, Jennifer Zigrino and Kally Jo Surbeck-Orwen .

  CHAPTER 1

  Rosemary Stanton stood patiently on the train platform, sweat rolling down her back and between her ample breasts. Waiting. Sweating because it was an unusually hot day in late April. Waiting for her husband. A husband she wouldn’t recognize if he were standing right next to her.

  She’d been desperate when she answered the advertisement for a mail order bride. Wanted: Single woman to cook, clean, and care for children on a cattle ranch in southwestern Colorado. Will marry upon arrival.

  Well, she was twenty-six with no prospects. Her brother just got married and his new wife, Beatrice, didn’t want Rosie around. She could answer the advertisement or become a governess. Help someone else’s children grow up into adults. Live in someone else’s house. For the rest of her life, she’d have nothing she could call her own.

  Rosie wanted a home. Her own home. She wanted a husband and children. All the things she’d never have if she stayed in Philadelphia. When she’d seen the ad in the morning paper, she’d nearly shouted with glee. However, she managed to restrain herself until she retired to her room before she giggled with delight as she pressed her back against the door. The advertisement was tailor-made for her needs. It got her away from Beatrice and got her her own home all in one fell swoop.

  Her brother, Robert, though was not happy with the idea of his baby sister traveling across the country to marry a stranger. He grudgingly agreed to give her her dowry to take with her. Five thousand dollars. She’d take the draft to the bank as soon as she arrived in Creede, Colorado, and married Mr. Thomas Harris. Cattle rancher. It was her “in case it doesn’t work out” money. Though she supposed it would belong to her husband once she married. Perhaps she just wouldn’t tell him about it.

  Her conscience spoke up. That’s no way to start a marriage. With lies and secrets. Oh, all right. She’d tell him and have him take her to the bank. But not until after she’d taken his measure. She could tell by how he treated his animals what kind of man he was. A man who was cruel to his horses would also be cruel to his wife. If he was a cruel man, she would leave and she sure as heck wouldn’t tell him about her money.

  Even the substantial size of her dowry couldn’t seem to provide marriage prospects for Rosie back in Philadelphia. She wasn’t pretty in the conventional sense. She thought her face with its big brown eyes and full lips was pleasing enough, but men apparently hadn’t. Her one beau told her that her eyes were the color of warm brandy. That was before he left her to marry another more suitable woman. More suitable, hah! Richer was more like it.

  He’d had expensive tastes and had married a rabbit-faced girl, heir to a substantial fortune to which he’d have access. Well, good luck and good riddance.

  She hoped her new husband wouldn’t be as snootish as Paul had been. As a cattle rancher she didn’t know what to expect but the idea of a more earthy, less frivoless man appealed to her.

  Rosie did have one extraordinary feature. Her hair. Waist length, wavy and a clear, golden blonde. Right now, standing on the train platform in Creede it was bound up in a loose bun on top of her head under her hat. It, like the rest of her, was covered in white dirt and a nasty grayish soot from the train. Her suit would never be the same again.

  She’d discovered on the second day of her trip, she could minimize the grime by sitting in the front of the car with the window closed. But sooner or later the heat and mugginess of the car would force her to open the window. The air came rushing in, cooling her, but bringing with it the dirt and ash from the train’s boilers and whatever the wind picked up along the way.

  On the long trip, she’d told herself again and again she’d made the right decision. She was right to make the difficult trip. This was her life and she had to take her future into her own hands.

  “Excuse me. Miss Stanton?”

  Rosie shaded her eyes from the late afternoon sun and looked up at a tall man with dark hair. His hat was pulled low, hiding his eyes. He had a strong jaw covered with a shadow of whiskers.

  “Yes. I’m Rosemary Stanton.”

  He took off his hat and held out his hand. “I’m Tom Harris.”

  Rosie took his hand. It engulfed hers with a shock of warmth. Her pale skin stood in stark contrast to his tanned one. Calluses rubbed against her soft palm though the touch was not unpleasant. She looked from their clasped hands up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Harris.”

  “Tom. Call me, Tom.”

  “And I’m Rosie.”

  “Where are your trunks, Rosie?”

  “Oh, I don’t have any trunks. I only brought what I thought I would need out here.”

  He picked up the two valises at her feet. “Doesn’t seem like much for an Eastern woman. I’m glad to see you’re practical.”

  Rosie felt the heat in her cheeks and knew she blushed at his praise, undeserving as it was. “Well, I didn’t think you’d have any balls.”

  He cocked an eyebrow.

  “No, I didn’t mean…I meant…well, no need for fancy gowns or dresses.” Mortified clear down to her toes, she hoped the platform would just open up and swallow her now. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I do that when I’m nervous.”

  “Do I make you nervous, Rosie?” His deep baritone swept over her, caressing her, soothing her.

  “Yes. No.” She shook her head hoping to jiggle something sensible loose. “It’s the situation which makes me nervous.”

  He nodded knowingly. “The wedding ceremony. Well, that is one thing you don’t have to worry about anymore. We’re going to the preacher’s house now to get it done.”

  Rosie was surprised. Shocked was more like it. “Now? I mean I thought we might talk a while. Take a couple of days….”

  “No time for that. I have to get back to the ranch. We’ll stay tonight at Peabody’s Boarding House. The owner, Mary Peabody, is a friend of mine. The rooms are always clean and she serves the best food in town. I always stay there, if she has an opening, when I come to town. Tomorrow, we’ll go pick up my kids from the McKenzie’s and head to the ranch. By the time we get home you’ll barely have time to cook supper before it’s dark and time to put Ben and Suzie to bed.”

  Rosie had hoped they’d have some time to get to know each other before they got married. Heck, she’d have been happy with a bath before her wedding. She understood she couldn’t go live at his ranch without being married to him. It would be unseemly. Her reputation would be in shambles and who would want to marry a woman with a bad reputation? Especially if you had children. It would rub off on you but more importantly, on them. So an immediate marriage was neces
sary. She understood all of that but it didn’t change what she wished for.

  “You can cook. Can’t you? In your letters you said you were a good cook.”

  She nodded her head. “I am a good cook. I’ve never had a complaint.”

  “Good. Glad to hear it. Shall we go?”

  She took a deep breath, scared out of her wits she was making a mistake. “Yes. I suppose we should.”

  They walked to the waiting buckboard. He put her bags in the back and then helped her up on to it for the trip to the preachers. She was much relieved to see that his horses were well cared for.

  *****

  The marriage ceremony was short, thank God. Rosie stood next to Tom, grime covering her from head to toe. No place to even wash her face. Sweat formed in rivulets down her temples. She’d tried to keep her face and hands clean while traveling, but they came upon Creede, the end of the line, without her being able to check her appearance and wash up again. Not that it would have made much difference. Her traveling gloves, normally black, were ash colored from the dirt and grime of the last five days. Thanks to her gloves and the fact she wore them most of the time her hands were relatively clean.

  Tendrils of hair hung down all over having escaped from their restraints. She’d so carefully put up all of her hair into a bun high atop her head at the start of the trip. Now she was sure she looked like some sort of rag-a-muffin and this was her wedding day. Her dreams about her wedding didn’t include her being dirty and wearing a traveling suit that was four days past feeling fresh. She’d brought her dress thinking she’d have a real wedding. But that’s all it was, a dream. Mentally slapping herself, she remembered this wasn’t a dream this was reality. A reality she’d chosen, so she lifted her chin a little higher and made the best of it.

  When they got to the rings, Tom placed a plain gold band on her finger. She had her father’s wedding band to give to him, it was also gold but had scroll work etched into it.

  Then the preacher said “You may kiss the bride.” Tom looked at her and, as if he were seeing her for the first time, searched her face probably trying to find a clean place to kiss her. He finally leaned down and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. Quick, but not so fast she didn’t feel the warmth of his lips on hers all the way to her to her toes. She could get used to that.

  They arrived at the boarding house, as newlyweds, just in time for supper. Mary Peabody, a short, white-haired lady, had the table laden with food. It sat twelve and, with Tom and Rosie, was packed. It was Thursday night and apparently Thursday was fried steak night. Mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh biscuits, green beans flavored with pieces of bacon, creamed onions and baked apples shared the table.

  “Mary, this is Rosie. My wife,” Tom said by way of introduction.

  Rosie’s mouth watered at the delicious aromas assaulting her from the table.

  Mary seemed oblivious to Rosie’s grimy condition as she took Rosie’s hand in both of hers. “Pleased to meet you, Rosie.”

  “As I am you,” said Rosie. “Do you have some place I could wash up? I’m afraid I’m still covered with grime from the train.”

  “Why sure, hon, follow me.”

  Mary led the way to the kitchen. “There’s a basin at the sink, hot water in the kettle and I’ll get you a towel.”

  “Thank you,” said Rosie, ecstatic she’d be able to wash her face with soap and water. “There’s only so much you can do with a handkerchief.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Mary handed her a dish towel. “I’ve traveled to Denver a couple of times and felt like I’d been rolling in a pile of dirt by the time I got there. I can’t imagine being on a train for days on end. Tom told me before that you were coming from Philadelphia. That’s a big change…coming to Creede. Sure you’re up to it?”

  Rosie washed and dried her face. “I know I am. I want a home and children. I’m determined to make this work.”

  “Glad to hear it. Tom doesn’t need anymore tragedy in his life.”

  Rosie nodded. “I understand he’s a widower.”

  “He’s more than that.”

  “What do you mean?

  Mary looked a little flustered. “I’ve already said too much. I’ll let him tell you.”

  “Of course, I should get that kind of information from my husband. That sounds so strange to say. Um, do you think I could get a bath after supper?”

  “I’ll arrange to have it readied for you. You just tell me when you want it sent up.”

  “Splendid. Anytime after supper would be wonderful. Thank you.”

  “It’s nothing. Now let’s go eat supper before it’s all cold or gone.”

  Rosie laughed.

  Tom stood when they entered and held her chair out for her.

  Rosie had never been a picky eater. She wasn’t willow thin. She was full bodied and strong. She used to help the maids clean the house, much to her brother’s chagrin, but it kept her from turning to fat as so many of her friends were doing.

  She glanced over at Tom. His hair so deep, dark brown, as to be almost black. His blue eyes blazed against his tanned skin. He had crow’s feet probably from the sun. He didn’t appear to be the type that laughed too often. Perhaps she could change that.

  Tom was tall and lean, not skinny but muscular. Even so, she was amazed at the amount of food he ate. If her brother had eaten like that he’d have weighed three hundred pounds in no time. Still, he must work very hard if he could put away that much food and remain lean. She made a mental note to cook twice as much as she was used to cooking.

  “Tell me, Tom,” she said, trying to get used to saying his name instead of calling him Mr. Harris. “You said in your letters, your children are aged ten and three, correct?”

  “Yes. Ben is ten and Suzie is three. Why?”

  Rosie leaned in toward him so she wouldn’t have to shout. No need for everyone to know their business. “I was trying to determine how much food I’ll need to prepare.”

  “You’ll be cooking for fifteen. Not just the family but the cow hands, too. Is that going to be a problem?” He took a bite of the baked apple. From the look on his face, it was very good.

  “No, not at all. Fifteen. I’ll have to adjust my recipes. Increase the proportions. I only cooked for my brother and a small staff of servants at home. Robert didn’t want to hire a cook, so that was one of the things I did.” Amend mental note. Quadruple all recipes.

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “Tell me about your ranch,” she said as she cut her steak.

  He set his fork down and almost smiled when he started talking about his ranch. “It’s only a thousand acres, small compared to some of the ranches around here. I run three hundred head of cattle on it with the help of eleven men. I hire extra men during branding season and when we drive the herd to the rail head here in Creede once a year. Have you ever cooked out of a chuck wagon?”

  “No.” She sat up straighter, feeling a growing sense of panic. “Surely you don’t expect me to go on a cattle drive with you?” she said, appalled he would even consider it.

  He had the good sense to look chastised. “No, no of course not. Old Orvie will continue to do the cooking for us on the drives.”

  “Obviously, I’ll stay at home with the children,” she added firmly.

  “Just Suzie. Ben will be going on the cattle drive with me this year. It’s his first time and he’s looking forward to it.”

  “Isn’t he a little young?” she asked surprised

  “Not out here. It’s time he learned.” He shoveled in a forkful of potatoes.

  “Speaking of learning, I assume I’ll be teaching the children since you are so far from town and the school. That’s not something we discussed. Do you teach them now?” She took another bite of her steak. It was the most delicious she’d ever tasted. So tender it nearly melted in her mouth. She made another mental note to ask Mary what she did to make it so tender.

  “My wife did up until two years ago.” His bitterness was unmistakable. Rosi
e assumed that was when she’d died. He’d never said in his letters when she died. He must have loved her very much to still be so bitter after all this time. “I’ve been doing the best I can.” he said. “I hoped you’d be willing to take it over even though it wasn’t in our agreement.”

  Rosie put down her fork, finished with her supper. “You and the children are my family now. Their best interests are mine as well. We want them to grow up and be able to succeed in any endeavor they choose and they need schooling to be able to do that.”

  “I agree.” He looked surprised that she’d be thinking of the children, but he shouldn’t have. She’d made it clear in her letters she wanted children.

  It was still light outside when they finished dinner. Tom suggested they go for a walk and he’d show her the town. Though she dearly wanted her bath she thought it might be best to spend the time with her new husband. She asked Mary to wait on the bath.

  Creede was not large by any stretch of the imagination, but there was everything necessary for a farmer, rancher or miner. Two hotels besides the boarding house, a mercantile and feed store, barber shop, bank, sheriff’s office, courthouse, two churches, ten saloons and several whorehouses, which she didn’t stop to count. She supposed the miners, from the surrounding silver mines, had to go somewhere to spend their money and let off steam. She doubted many of them did it in church.

  It took them about an hour to walk down one side of town and up the other. They walked side-by-side, but Tom made sure to keep his distance and didn’t hold her hand. She really couldn’t blame him considering the state of her clothes. Twilight had settled on the town by the time they got back to the boarding house.

  Rosie was nervous. There was no other way to put it. Tonight was her wedding night and she had no experience, no real idea of what would happen and what was expected of her. She wished they could wait for a while before they became intimate. She didn’t think Tom would like the idea so she was surprised by his words as they walked up the stairs to their room.