An elderly man with a shock of white hair and rosy cheeks ambled toward her and stopped beside her. Lifting one leg, he braced it on the bottom rail and rested his elbows on the top. “Name’s Wally MacPherson,” he said. “I’m guessing you’re the new missus.”
She nodded, holding out her hand. “Yes, I am. My name’s Rose.
He wrapped his gnarled hand around hers. “That’s good. Real good. That boy needs a good woman to keep him in line before he gets himself in a mess of trouble he can’t get himself out of.”
“Charlie speaks very highly of you,” she said with a smile. “He tells me you’ve been here on the ranch for a long time.”
“Nigh on forty years,” he responded. “Now if the boy would quit trying to retire me off …” He chuckled. “Thinks I’m getting too old to do my job and need to take it easy. I can still outwork him, though.”
Rose heard the affection in the old man’s voice. She didn’t respond. Instead, she turned her attention back to Charlie.
Charlie stood in the center of the corral, the horse’s reins hanging loosely from his hands. The horse, a tall, chestnut stallion trotted around the corral while Charlie adjusted the tension on the reins every few minutes. Eventually, the horse slowed to a walk.
“Is that horse wild?”
Wally nodded. “Name’s Geronimo. He was wild until Charlie started working with him a few days ago. Managed to get a bridle and halter on him yesterday. Today he’s going to saddle him and try riding him.”
“But it takes weeks to break a horse to saddle—”
“Not the way Charlie does it.” Pride shone in Wally’s voice. “I’ve never seen anything like it in all my years.”
While Rose and Wally looked on, Charlie slowly approached Geronimo and unhooked the reins, gently running his hand down Geronimo’s neck while he spoke softly and calmly to him. Then he turned his back and began to walk around the corral. Geronimo watched for a few seconds, then followed.
Charlie grinned at her as he passed by, still talking to Geronimo. Finally, he stopped near the gate and unfolded a blanket hanging over the fence. He clipped the reins back on the horse and drew him closer, then carefully draped the blanket over his back.
Running his hand down Geronimo’s face, he leaned closer and whispered softly to him then walked him around the corral until he was comfortable having the blanket on his back.
Geronimo seemed relaxed and co-operative until Charlie stopped, then put the saddle on his back and buckled the strap. Then he reared and began to buck. Charlie waited patiently until he settled, but kept speaking to him. Within a minute or so, Geronimo had calmed and five minutes later, Charlie was astride the horse’s back.
Rose was mesmerized. It seemed to her that instead of forcing the horse to accept the saddle, he’d managed to gain the horse’s trust.
“Yep,” Wally put in, drawing her attention away from Charlie and Geronimo. “I knew he’d do it.”
“It’s amazing,” she murmured. She’d always believed the way a man treated animals said much for his character. Her respect for Charlie had taken a huge leap in the past few minutes.
Entranced, she watched Charlie gently caress Geronimo’s neck as he slowly walked the horse around the corral.
The two other men who’d been watching Charlie from the other side of the corral suddenly appeared at her side. “This here’s TJ,” Wally indicated with a jerk of his head. “And Rubey.”
“Happy to make your acquaintance, ma’am” one said, scratching his scraggly brown beard. The other, a short, squat man of what appeared to be mixed heritage, tipped his hat but didn’t speak.
“And yours,” Rose replied.
TJ took a step closer. “Since Charlie’s busy, we’d be happy to show you around.”
Rose wasn’t sure it was appropriate to go off with men who obviously worked for Charlie, but at the same time, she didn’t want to appear rude and standoffish.
“That’s not necessary, TJ.” The voice came from behind. Spinning around, she bumped into Charlie.
She hadn’t noticed him dismount and leave the corral, but she was pleased that he’d come over to speak to her. He wrapped his arms around her to steady her, even though she really wasn’t in danger of losing her balance. For several long moments, he held her, his eyes meeting hers.
His fingers shifted slightly, his heat searing her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.
“Don’t you boys got work to do?” Wally’s voice interrupted the scene. “Let’s go.”
Rose’s cheeks flamed as she tugged herself out of Charlie’s grasp. The men scattered, Wally behind them.
“I was planning to show you around tomorrow, but I suppose now’s as good a time as any,” Charlie said, keeping his hand wrapped around her back and gently holding her waist. “I suppose you’d like to see the horses first.”
She nodded. He hadn’t forgotten. “Come on, then. I’ll take you out on the range to see them. Let me talk to Wally for a minute and then we’ll find you a horse to ride.”
Twenty minutes later, Charlie was standing beside her, holding the reins of two horses, saddled and bridled. One was much larger than the other, so she thought it safe to assume the smaller horse was the one she’d be riding.
“This is Pepper,” he said, running his hand down the larger horse’s mane. “He’s mine.”
He repeated the caress to the smaller horse. “She’s almost ready to go back on the range,” he told her. “She was hurt, but she’s fine now.
Rose gazed fondly at the caramel-colored mare. “She’s beautiful,” Rose gushed. “I love her. What’s her name?”
“Butterscotch.”
“It’s the perfect name.”
” I don’t have a sidesaddle, though,” he said, “so you might not be very comfortable.”
Rose laughed, then looked around to see if they had an audience. “I don’t need a sidesaddle,” she told him.
As she quickly mounted Butterscotch, her dress rode up, revealing her calves. Heat flooded her cheeks, but her desire to ride overrode her embarrassment.
She did notice Charlie’s eyes widen at the sight of her bare legs, but he didn’t comment. “Are you coming?”
Charlie grinned. “I sure am.”
Chapter 7
Charlie jumped down and came around to help Rose climb out of the buggy in front of his parents’ house late that afternoon. Standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the long wide porch, he took her hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be fine,” he said encouragingly. “You look real pretty tonight.”
Rose blushed. She’d spent two hours that afternoon getting ready for this meeting, well aware that tonight could set the tone for her relationship with Charlie’s parents for the rest of her life.
She’d taken pains to steam the wrinkles out of a pale blue silk dress trimmed with French lace, the one fancy dress she’d taken with her when she left home. Then she’d styled her hair into a loose knot, leaving a few curls to frame her face.
She was pleased that Charlie found her attractive, and a sliver of hope rose in her chest that perhaps, one day, that attraction might turn to something more.
“It might be a bit awkward at first, and my father might be a bit gruff, but once he gets to know you, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Rose nodded, her heart thundering in her chest. For some reason, meeting Charlie’s parents was even more terrifying than actually marrying Charlie had been.
“Like I told you last night, my mother will accept you with open arms. So will my sisters. They’ll be thrilled to have another female in the family.”
Rose tried to smile. She didn’t have any sisters, and when Charlie had mentioned he had four, she’d been looking forward to meeting them and becoming good friends. Now, though, her nerves were taut. “Are you sure I look all right? Charlie, please don’t flatter me if you don’t mean it.”
His eyes raked over her, and her senses reeled under his lustful gaze. He grinned. “Trust me. You�
��re perfect.”
She swallowed thickly and nodded, then followed him up the stairs and across the wide porch to the front door.
He opened it, then with his hand at the small of her back, ushered her inside and closed the door behind him. “This is it,” he said.
The room was large, with a floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace taking up most of one wall, with dark brown leather armchairs grouped around it. Tables and lamps were arranged A large oak desk stood in one corner.
The house was eerily quiet. “Ma? Pa?” he called out into the silence.
“Are you sure the invitation was for tonight?” she asked.
He nodded. “Why don’t you wait here while I go see where they are.”
The sound of his boots on the wooden floor faded as he disappeared around a corner, leaving her feeling alone and nervous. She perched on the edge of a chair against one of the walls, studying her fingernails and the angry marks dotting her hands from her confrontation with the chickens that morning.
A few moments later, muted voices reached her ears. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, but she recognized the timbre of Charlie’s voice. A female voice interrupted Charlie and another male.
Suddenly, she heard a door open and a man marched in, Charlie and a woman behind him. Tall and stocky, with a bushy beard and a thick head of gray hair, the man reminded Rose of the woodsmen she’d seen in the forest near her parents’ farm back in Massachusetts.
Charlie hurried to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “This is Rose,” he announced. “Rose, these are my parents, Robert and Ada Halstead.”
Robert folded his arms across his broad chest and peered at her, making her want to hide behind Charlie to escape his intense stare.
“So you’re Charlie’s new wife?” Robert’s voice boomed in the quiet room.
Straightening, she swallowed past the dryness in her mouth. “I am,” she said as confidently as she could manage. On trembling legs, she crossed to him and held out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
Robert took her hand in a tight grip. He didn’t respond to the introduction. Instead his gaze swept over her and she had the distinct feeling she was being examined and being found wanting. “Likewise.”
Charlie’s mother rushed forward, throwing her arms around Rose and squeezing her until she could barely breathe. Finally, she released her and stepped back. “My, my, you’re such a pretty little thing.”
Taking her by the hand, she dragged Rose to the settee and sat down, patting the space beside her. “Come, come. Sit by me and tell me all about yourself.”
Rose’s nerves tightened again. She wasn’t convinced Charlie’s mother would be nearly as welcoming if she knew the circumstances that had led Rose to answering the ad in The Grooms’ Gazette.
“Ma, give Rose a chance to catch her breath. There’s plenty of time for you and the sisters to pry every last bit of family history out of her once we’re settled.”
“Even though we’re still strangers, we’re family now, so you’re welcome to call me Ma. Or Ada, if you like. Still, I hope you’ll one day feel comfortable enough to think of me as Ma.”
Rose smiled softly, her throat tightening as a memory of her own mother washed over her. “I hope so.”
At that moment, a grey-haired woman wearing an apron appeared in a doorway. “Supper’s ready.”
“Come, dear.” Ada cupped Rose’s elbow and drew her forward into the dining room, set with fine china and crystal. Fresh flowers gave off a heady fragrance, and candlelight from silver candle holders bathed the room in soft light.
If she hadn’t known better, she might be having supper in one of the grandest homes back in Princeton instead of a ranch house in the wilds of Colorado.
Charlie’s father remained quiet during the meal, but Rose felt his discerning gaze all evening. Ada, on the other hand, kept the conversation lively. It was inevitable that the conversation would turn to Rose’s family. “What business is your father in, dear?” Ada asked.
For a few moments, Rose hesitated. Would they accept the truth, or would they shun her the way she’d been shunned by those she’d believed were her friends? She couldn’t take the chance. Remaining as vague as possible, she merely answered, “He no longer works.”
“Ah, a man of leisure,” Ada commented.
She doubted that very much, but didn’t enlighten her. As carefully as possible, she answered all the questions put to her, and soon, Ada began regaling her with stories of Charlie’s childhood and his relationship with his sisters.
Even Robert seemed to relax a little as the evening wore on.
“You’ll meet Charlie’s sisters soon,” Ada said over dessert, a mouth-watering concoction of cream and chocolate. “We’ll have a party to celebrate. Perhaps next month, before it becomes too difficult for Audrey to travel. She’s expecting her third in late summer. I hope you and Charlie will give us grandchildren as well.”
“I hope so, too,” Charlie put in. The look he sent in Rose’s direction said more than any words could. “Don’t you, Rose, honey?”
Rose pasted a smile on her lips. “Of course. I love children.”
She did love children, had always dreamed of a large family. But as far as she knew, there was only one way to have a child. Soon, she thought. Soon.
* * *
“I need to go into town tomorrow to pick up a new saddle,” Charlie told her a few days later when he was finishing up his breakfast. She’d made eggs again, and Charlie was starting to wonder how long it would take before he started clucking. At least this time she’d scrambled them. And today, most of the bacon was cooked, at least to the point of being edible.
He wouldn’t complain, though. She was trying to learn, and it seemed every time he saw her lately, she had her head buried in his mother’s cookbooks.
And, he’d even admitted to himself that he liked watching her when she didn’t know he was looking – the way her forehead crinkled when she tried to understand cooking terms she didn’t know, the way her finger traced each line as she read, the way she nibbled on her bottom lip as she studied the instructions …
He had to stop thinking about those lips. “Do you want to go with me?” he asked, focusing on his meal. “We’ll get you some gloves and anything else you need for the house.”
Rose glanced up from the recipe book she’d been poring over for the past fifteen minutes. “I’d like that. I have letters to mail to my friends.”
He was curious what kind of friends she’d had. Even though he’d asked questions about her life before she came west, he got the impression she was holding back a lot. “The ones you lived with?”
She nodded. “More coffee?” she asked, getting up and bringing the coffee pot back to the table.
“Tell me about them.”
She set the pot back on the stove and sat down. “I miss them so. The four of us became so close, and shared a tiny two-bedroom apartment after the factory burned down. Emma is my cousin. She’s the one who helped me get the job in the factory. She was writing to a gentleman in Kentucky when I left but I’m not sure if she’s gone there or if she’s still in Lawrence. Willow married an Amish man in Pennsylvania.”
“Really? I thought they kept to their own kind.”
“Her grandfather left the Amish community, but she’d always been drawn to that life, so when she saw the ad in The Groom’s Gazette, she sent him a letter. She’s been living there now for a few months and has fallen in love with her new husband.”
A soft smile curved Rose’s lips. “And Gillian … Gillian comes from Maine, and she so wanted to go back, but there were circumstances that made it difficult. She saw an ad from a lighthouse keeper there, and so wrote to him. They’re married now and very happy, from what I hear.”
“It seems their matches all worked out.”
Her voice took on a tinge of bitterness. “It does, but it might have been easier for them because they found men who wanted to be married.”
“I know that—”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to get married sometime, just not now. And not to satisfy somebody else. But we are married and I haven’t pushed you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with—”
Hurt appeared in her eyes, making him wish he’d kept quiet. But he was trying, although he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.
“You’ve been more than patient, and I do appreciate it.”
He stood up. “I know you’re trying, too.”
Leaning over, he kissed her gently. “I’ll be home for supper,” he said, then looked down at the recipe book. “You’re going to make beef stew tonight?”
“I’m going to try.”
He grinned. “It’s one of my favorites, so I’ll have something to look forward to all day.” Then he put on his hat and left.
* * *
Charlie walked down the boardwalk toward the tinsmith’s shop the next morning. He’d left Rose at the mercantile and since he hadn’t seen George since the day he’d made the decision to advertise for a bride, he was sure his friend would be eager to hear all the details of what had happened since.
George looked up from the candle holder he was making when Charlie entered and set the tin punch on the work table to shake hands. Grinning, he flicked a cloth across the seat of a wooden chair beside him and gestured to Charlie to sit down. “I was wondering when you’d get around to coming by.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“I’ve heard all about it from Angel. She’s been getting all the gossip, and it sounds like Eugenie is furious.”
Charlie shrugged. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Eugenie, but it seemed he had. He knew Eugenie, had known her most of his life, and he was well aware how vindictive she could be. He worried that somehow she’d do something to threaten the tenuous relationship he was building with Rose.
A few days ago, he wouldn’t have cared, other than the embarrassment he’d have to face if Rose left him. But now … if he was being honest, the possibility that Rose might leave him scared him. A lot.
Rose: Bride of Colorado (American Mail-Order Bride 38) Page 8
