by Rose, Amelia
“And even though the cattle drive is not a tremendous distance, it is still dangerous for the animals and has to take place over several weeks. If the animals walk too far without enough rest, they will lose too much weight and become too unhealthy for the market. We do this several times a year, as we obviously cannot move the whole herd with only a few men.
Miranda nodded and finished her breakfast, amused at the man’s statement that this mob of field hands was a “few” men. As she stood to leave the kitchen, everyone paused, many in the middle of chewing their food, looking first at Miranda and then to Bernard. The old man sighed, and said, “Well?”
The ranch hands stood uncertainly as Miranda turned to leave the kitchen, the young lady stopping first to thank Cook and her staff. She left the kitchen and smiled knowingly as twenty men flounced back in their chairs with relief and began eating like animals once more.
CHAPTER NINE
Bathing had never felt so good, even if the water was a tad bit colder than Miranda was used to. Back in her old apartment, there had been no bathtub, only a tiny walk-in shower that drained directly into the floor. Getting to sit in the mildly tepid water was still a luxury, one she had been warned about.
“The solar hot water heater provides us with the water,” one of the housekeepers explained as she led Miranda to the bathroom. “but the tank is only so big. You can’t exactly run the water all the way to the top of the tub. Just warning you!”
Here at the ranch, water was sent through pipes directly from the creek that ran off from a large river to the east. It went through a filtration process in a small building behind the house, and then was stored in cisterns close to the house. Several more larger cisterns erected near the barns provided water for the animals. The cisterns, built off the ground in places that received the most shade throughout the day, helped cool the water slightly. But with so many workers trying to clean the dirt of a hard day’s work off their bodies, heating the water to a luxurious temperature wasn’t always possible.
Fortunately, Gracie came to Miranda’s rescue, entering the private bathroom with another pot of boiling water. “Move to the side, Miranda, this one is terribly hot.” She poured in the still-bubbling water and Miranda moved the water around slightly with her foot, closing her eyes and reveling in the feeling of warmth that spread through the water. Gracie swirled the water with the still burning pot to add to the temperature a little.
“Gracie,” Miranda began, her eyes still closed as she heard her sister move about the small room, squeezing some soap into the water and fluffing out a towel off the wall rack for Miranda to use when she was finished. “do you think this will work out somehow?”
“I don’t know. What do you mean?” the girl replied, sorting through the clothes that had arrived during the night to find something suitable and appropriate to wear.
“This isn’t at all what I had in mind. I mean, I knew there would be issues and obstacles, like getting to know each other and figuring each other out, but I never once imagined that the first hurdle would be a man who so clearly doesn’t want me here, and his sweet father who obviously does. How are we going to make this work?”
“I don’t have a clue,” Gracie said with a small giggle. It felt good to hear her laugh again, and Miranda would marry a million strange cowboys if it could undo some of the damage Mike had done. “That older Mr. Carson would move a mountain to have a daughter, especially one like you, and he’d be the one who was lucky to have you in his family, not the other way around. So who cares what his son thinks of the situation? The younger guy didn’t exactly threaten to kick you out of here. And he’s really, really cute, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“No, not at all. And I think you’re right,” Miranda answered. “Something about the older man does make people just want to be good. Look at the way the men responded to him, even the ones who have no ties to this farm other than being hired on. It was like they were being punished by their own fathers.”
“But I don’t understand. If you’re not going to be some farmer’s wife who scrubs the laundry on a washboard at the river,” Miranda flicked water from the tub at Gracie for her outdated explanation. “What exactly will you be doing?”
“I don’t know,” Miranda sighed. “From what I’ve seen so far, I’m only here so I can walk into a room and make grown men behave themselves, men who should fully know better!” She and Gracie laughed again over the description Miranda had given Gracie about breakfast that morning. “But the older Mr. Carson is supposed to talk to me about that this morning, so let me get dressed and go see what he wants.”
Gracie turned around as Miranda out of the bath tub and threw on her robe. She crept back to the bedroom to check on which of her outfits still looked halfway decent after being stowed in a suitcase for nearly a week and then spending the night on the ground. She returned with a dress no worse for wear, but maybe a little too dressy for the ranch.
“Thank goodness all I had was T-shirts and jeans. If you see any scissors around the place, would you bring them back with you? I’m going to cut off some of these jeans for shorts,” Gracie reminded her.
“I’ll do that. I’m afraid this heat will be the death of both of us if we don’t wear some lighter clothing. The thought of putting on that dress is making me sweat so much, I’ll need another bath before I ever get to speak to Mr. Carson.”
“Um, have you noticed that no one dresses like that around here?” the girl asked, looking up from her book.
“Like what?”
“Like they’re going on a job interview,” she answered, pointing at the navy blue dress Miranda had spread out on the bed. “I’ve only seen a few other women here, and none of them wore dresses. Shouldn’t we at least try to blend in?” Gracie hinted, more for her own comfort than Miranda’s.
Miranda laughed, a hint of mischief on her face even as she pretended to be shocked by Gracie’s suggestion. But after a moment’s hesitation, she added, “Why not? Hand me my jeans out of the suitcase. It’s not like any of these men will know the difference! If we didn’t have udders, horns, and hide, they wouldn’t even know we were in the room!”
Gracie smiled and finished helping Miranda dress and tie back her hair in a low ponytail, readying her to meet Mr. Carson in his office. When Miranda emerged from the bedroom and into the hallway, she could easily see down the wide stair case that the older man was sitting in his office, reading something in an oversized book as another man stood beside his chair. She walked down the staircase and approached the office, knocking gently on the frame of the open door.
“Miranda!” Bernard called out, his funny way of speaking making him stress the second syllable of her name in a way that was charming. “Please, come in, come in. You don’t ever have to knock to enter this office.” He stood up as she approached and pointed her to a chair near his desk. “Have you met my son, Anders? He is your new husband’s younger brother.”
New husband, she thought to herself, a worried frown crinkling her face for only a moment. That remains to be seen. Even the thought of marrying the guy’s son after the one conversation they’d had seemed not only stupid, it seemed downright impossible.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Anders,” Miranda began. “I’m afraid I arrived not knowing there was such a large family here, but I hope to get to know you better very soon.”
Anders smiled, then blushed to the roots of his hair and bowed slightly. He quickly left the room, his laptop tucked under one arm. Bernard sat back down behind his large oak desk and leaned forward, even as Miranda sat as straight in her chair as her business school education had taught her. For all practical purposes, this was exactly like a job interview, only for some reason, the job she was applying for was to be a wife.
“So, Miranda, what do you think of Carson Hill Ranch so far?” Bernard asked kindly.
“Well, it’s so overwhelming that I really haven’t had the chance to form an opinion. It’s beautiful, of course,” she ad
ded quickly to avoid sounding insulting. “and your men seem very attached to their lives here. I’m sure it will make a really great home,” she answered primly.
“And I want you to think of it as your home. What I said this morning was not just posturing for the men or pretty words to impress you. There was a time when this house was nothing more than a lean-to, and my ancestors—and their new brides!—slept on the very ground. And they were so happy. Even when I finally met my wife,” At this, Bernard turned a picture frame around so Miranda could see a petite, black-haired woman smiling back at her, her arms full of children of different ages, “this house was only about two-thirds of this size. Once I built my family’s fortune back up and tripled the herd of cattle,” Bernard’s hand swept out in an open gesture to encompass everything in sight, “it was my sweet wife who brought a feminine touch to the ranch. It was no longer a homestead filled with animals, but a place for a family to really live.”
“We lost her only a few years ago, shortly after giving birth to the angel who would have been my daughter. Both of them died only a few hours after the birth,” Bernard explained, his voice dropping in volume as sadness washed over him. “Our home—and our family—has never been the same.”
Miranda wanted to get up and go over to him, to wrap her arms around him. Something about the old man just seemed to bring out the best in people, herself included. She knew it wouldn’t be the polite thing to do because they had only just met, so she could only nod her head quietly.
“But this is why we need you,” Bernard continued, clearing his throat and washing away his emotion. “We need someone to make us remember that we are first and foremost gentlemen, not animal herders who happen to walk on two legs.”
“What exactly will I be doing around here, though?” Miranda asked earnestly. “I’m sure I’ll also need to earn my keep around here, just like everybody else does. I mean, I went to school, I have a degree in accounting but of course, I spent plenty of time waiting tables over the years. I’m not too proud to work in the kitchen or help out in other ways around the house.”
“Well, yes, but I thought I would leave it to you to determine what your strengths are that you bring to the ranch. Of course, there’s also the matter of my son…” Miranda immediately felt her face heat, a pink blush creeping up her neck from her chest. She was not about to discuss what she could be doing for Casey with his father. “…this wasn’t entirely his idea. I take that back. This was not at all his idea. He is opposed to marrying a stranger but mostly, it is because he doesn’t think he has the time for a wife and a family. He will come around, I promise you.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Miranda asked thoughtfully, ashamed at the thought that her future husband might reject her so coldly that she could barely bring herself to ask.
“Well, if that’s the case, I would provide you with money for travel back to anywhere you wished to go, as well as compensate you for the wages you would have earned if you hadn’t come out here. Of course, I have five other sons to choose from!” the man said with a laugh. “Surely one of them would be honored to have a smart, beautiful girl like you as his bride!”
Somehow, that suggestion only made Miranda grow even more morose. The thought of being passed from brother to brother until one of them was finally unwittingly saddled with her made the bile rise up in her throat. Damn Mike for putting her in this situation! Back in Newark, she had a good thing going, even if it wasn’t perfect. Then she had to go and meet Mike and ruin what little good was happening in her life. Here, she had to make amends and hope her would-be fiancé so much as spoke to her.
“Now, let me be the one to ask you a few questions,” Bernard began, lacing his fingers on top of his desk and staring at the wedding ring he still wore. “For instance, what makes a beautiful, educated, articulate girl like you go looking for a cowboy on the Internet?”
Miranda took a deep breath, knowing that she would have had to answer this question at some point sooner or later. “It really started out as a joke, if that’s not too harsh a thing to say. My little sister...”
“Gracie, was it?” Bernard asked.
“Yes, after George Burns’ wife, Gracie Allen. Anyway, she came to live with me after my mom died last year. She didn’t have anywhere else to go, and believe me, I looked!”
“You two don’t get along?” he asked, his eyebrows coming together in concern.
“Oh, no! Nothing like that! But with the age difference, I never really knew her that well and after losing our dad in Afghanistan when she was a toddler and then losing our mom last year, the last thing she needed was to be uprooted from her home and forced to sleep on the couch of my apartment. I’m really sorry to say it, but she’s been on that couch this whole time.” Now was probably not the time to bring up Mike’s attempts at hurting Gracie, or the possibly criminal way Miranda had handled the situation.
“But how did she have a hand in you agreeing to marry my son?”
“Oh, that. To say that Gracie didn’t like my boyfriend at the time is putting it mildly. And she’s completely right, he was horrible and I’m glad to be rid of him. One day, she was just goofing off on the Internet and signed me up for this dating site, halfway pretending that maybe she could show me the really good, quality guys out there. Next thing you know, I was emailing Casey. Or at least I thought it was Casey, but I have a really good idea that it was you on the other end of the computer,” Miranda said, narrowing her eyes slightly at the older man.
“I plead the fifth,” he said simply, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.
“I see. Well, there you have it.”
“No, that only explains how you came to be on the dating site in the first place. Whatever made you decide to pack up and leave New Jersey?”
“Have you ever been to New Jersey? If you had, you wouldn’t have to ask!” she answered teasingly. “But seriously, I was in a dead-end job, keeping the books for a small company, I had a sister to take care of, a boyfriend to get rid of, and an apartment that is literally smaller than this office. I hadn’t done so well for myself up to that point, so I thought, ‘Why not? I should go meet this guy and see where it takes me because it can’t take me anywhere worse than I’ve already been.’”
“There is a business matter to discuss,” Bernard continued, his voice growing serious. “I have arranged for a parcel of land that neighbors Carson Hill Ranch to be put in your name as part of our arrangement. This piece is small, only a couple hundred acres or so, but it would be yours outright, regardless of your marital status. Your husband cannot sell it or develop it, not without your permission. If you decide not to go through with the wedding, I would sell it off. But if you do get married, it is your property, regardless of what the future holds.”
Miranda sat up straighter, watching the man carefully. How was this possible? She’d practically been chased from Newark by her circumstances and now, this man was going to make her a property owner? She used to struggle to pay the rent on a one-bedroom fifth floor walk-up, how was it that she would own a small ranch?
“As for your duties here, of course, there will be some assisting within the house, probably with meal times and especially with holiday events. My wife used to make the biggest fuss at the holidays, and we really haven’t celebrated all that much in the past few years. And then, I have two young sons who could use a firm tutor, and all of us could use a woman’s touch around here when it comes to our manners. Someone to see to it that we actually follow through with Bible study and prayer times would be helpful, too, if you’re religious at all. It used to be really important to my wife.” Bernard moved some papers around on his desk as Miranda sat numbly listening to the list of her duties. It was a far cry from helping a homesteader pull a plow, that was for sure, but it was also no worse than filing papers from nine-to-five as a creepy boss tried to look down her blouse.
When she was dismissed, Miranda felt hopeful for the first time since climbing on that bus. Th
is might actually work after all, especially with the very generous gift of her very own land. She felt lighter than she had in days.
So why did Casey Carson have to go and ruin that feeling, just by walking in the door?
CHAPTER TEN
Casey stopped short when he saw Miranda standing at the bottom of the staircase, one delicate hand on the gleaming wooden handrail. Why in the hell did Dad have to go and bring her here? he thought sourly. This ranch is no place for a lady, especially not one dressed like that. She’ll ruin her clothes just by walking through a doorway, let alone stepping foot out on the farm. He nodded curtly and kept walking, a small part of his mind aware that she was watching him go.
There was no point in making nice with her, especially when Casey had every intention of putting off this wedding idea of his father’s for as long as possible. Long enough, hopefully, that she’d get tired of waiting and head back to wherever it was his father had found her. Ladies like her didn’t belong out here, especially not ones who made hungry field hands who’d been up working since before dawn stand when she entered a room and eat with their elbows off the table. Meals weren’t about social niceties, they were about getting enough food into you to hold you until the next meal, with hours and hours of back-breaking, sometimes life-threatening, work in between.
But there was one thing Casey knew a city girl could do for this ranch, and that was give Bernard something to do. The old man was really feeling the strain of being cooped up inside his own house, a house that he helped build with his own two hands in his younger days. There aren’t many people on this planet who could have done what Bernard Carson had accomplished; if he wanted to spend his retired days being fawned over by a delicate daughter-in-law and bouncing grandbabies on his knee, that was not too much to ask after the decades of hard work he’d put into the ranch. And that work was all going to be left to his sons. Maybe it wasn’t too much to ask that those sons show some gratitude by leaving the man a family legacy.
