Her Wild Journey (Seeing Ranch series) (A Western Historical Romance Book)

by Florence Linnington

  Or she would go to her grave trying.

  Chapter Two

  2. Beau

  Chapter two

  Beau rode west. Stetson, the palomino he always took into town, trotted with a pep in his step. Mid-October was just as fine as it usually was. All the animals were extra frisky, showing signs of what Beau always called “fall fever.”

  As they came on the last mile before Winding Path Ranch, Beau thought back to the odd interaction he’d just had in town. The woman he’d spoken to—frail, with thick blonde hair and sharp eyes—had sparked his interest.

  But only because they didn’t get a lot of strangers in Shallow Springs. Even with the stagecoach coming in on the regular, it was often people who already lived in the area riding in.

  He’d said something wrong to the young woman, put his foot in his mouth. He tended to do that around women.

  He’d done his best, only wanting to help the girl with her bag. Was expressing a bit of concern for her safety such a crime?

  It didn’t matter. Beau didn’t have much to do with anyone that he didn’t work with daily. If the young woman stayed in town, he’d see her around from time to time, but they certainly wouldn’t have to talk. He’d never have to think of her again.

  Problem was, he couldn’t get her out of his head.

  That same attitude that had gotten under his skin had also piqued his interest. Who was the strange, fair-haired woman with a limp? And what was she doing in his small town?

  Winding Path Ranch’s barnyard was the same as it always was, with the addition of a strange horse. Sliding off Stetson, Beau walked cautiously toward the corner of the stable. Once upon a time, a strange horse wouldn’t have been a concern. But since the bandit problems earlier in the year, everyone was more cautious than usual. It never hurt to be on guard.

  “He thinks he owns everything under the sky,” a man’s voice was saying.

  Beau rounded the stable’s outer wall and found Will Cameron, a ranching neighbor, who had taken over the land vacated by their old neighbor (and no-good criminal), Fred Greene. He was talking to Mitch, Winding Path Ranch’s young owner.

  Mitch rubbed his jaw and nodded. “Well, we have each other. I suggest we make a pact right now not to ruin that relationship.” He looked up, spotting Beau. “Was there any mail?”

  “Nothing,” Beau answered, hooking his thumbs into his belt loops. “Gemma is going to flail me for it, I figure. She’s waiting for some dress catalog or something. Will.” He nodded. “How you doing?”

  The rancher murmured his own greeting in return.

  “Everything all right?” Beau asked. Cameron was a good man, but the air around the stable was tense.

  “Just talking about the news,” Mitch explained. “Some of the ranchers are putting up barbed wire. You hear about that?”

  Beau scoffed. “Yeah, I did. That’s only gonna cause fighting.”

  Will sighed. “I don’t see what all this fighting over green space is good for. The land was shared well enough before, wasn’t it?”

  “’Course it was,” Mitch answered.

  Beau didn’t say anything. The problem was the number of ranchers and farmers who’d come to the area in the last year. Men with aspirations of living off the land were flowing in from back east, taking up space and resources. Most of them came on their own, unmarried and unshackled, ready to fight tooth and nail for what they wanted. Since Will was one of those very men, Beau figured it would be best if he didn’t point this out.

  Thinking about it all, though, made his insides curl a bit. Just a year ago, Wyoming had still been so wild. Now, it was turning into a cultivated park.

  “You all have a good night. I’d best get home.” Will waved at them before departing.

  “Are you gonna tell Gemma the news, or you gonna make me do it?” Mitch grinned.

  “She should go easy on you. She’s your wife, so I figure she likes you better.”

  “Ha,” Mitch barked. “You don’t know much about marriage, do you?”

  For a brief instant, nausea rose in Beau. He pushed it down, clamping on a lid to keep it from rising, like he always did. He was good at that.

  “No,” he agreed after a moment. “I don’t.”

  “Anything new happening in town?”

  I did just fine on my own. The blonde woman’s sharp words rang through Beau’s head. Those eyes, ones with every color a person’s eyes could contain… brown, but with streaks of green, yellow, and even blue. He’d only looked into them for a moment, but somehow, he could still see them now.

  “No.” Beau cleared his throat and turned away. “Nothing new.”

  Chapter Three

  3. Cadence

  Chapter three

  The warm morning sun streaming through the hotel’s window woke Cadence, bringing her back into the world with a soft embrace. Once she had rubbed the sleep from her eyes and shaken the haze of her dreams, though, the reality of life came rushing back.

  She had no future.

  The man she had come to marry could no longer do just that. She had no job. No prospects. Cadence Hurley was as good as a full-grown orphan.

  But she had been in worse situations before. She’d spent weeks sleeping on the streets, putting up with conditions many people did not even know existed. She had gotten through all of that and she would get through this as well.

  Dressing quickly, she washed her face in the basin and braided her hair tightly before winding the braid into a bun and pinning it securely. With a satisfied look in the mirror, she squared her shoulders and smiled brightly. There. At least she was now prepared for whatever the day would bring.

  Downstairs, the smell of sausage frying filled the air. There were several diners in the restaurant. The owner’s wife, who had checked Cadence into her room the night before, bustled in with a plate laden with pancakes. Her eyes landed on Cadence immediately.

  “Oh, Miss Hurley. Sit down and have some breakfast. The stagecoach is about to leave. I have your ticket in my apron pocket. Mr. Dunst paid for it yesterday.”

  Cadence’s throat felt all lumpy. This was it. If she was leaving, it had to be right then. The next stagecoach heading east wouldn’t be for a while yet. By then, she would be out of money.

  Having a seat at a vacant table, she choked down some breakfast. The whole meal, she couldn’t stop looking out the window at where the stagecoach waited. To go, or not to go?

  Life back in Baltimore was bleak. There was a reason she had left it.

  But how many opportunities could there be in Shallow Springs?

  Too soon, the time had arrived. The three other people who were taking the stagecoach climbed into it. Cadence hung back on the porch, her bag sitting behind her.

  “You coming?” the driver asked.

  She glanced down the street. It was a bright day, despite the chill, and a few children were out playing with a hoop. A dog ran around in circles, playfully barking at them.

  “Well?” the driver pressed.

  Cadence closed her eyes, the last six years of her life coming back to her in a rush. The cold nights in the streets. The days selling flowers. The gruesome work as a maid. The male bosses who thought they could talk to her as they pleased, thought they could put their hands on her…

  Anything was better than the life she had left behind.

  “No,” she firmly answered, looking at the driver. “I believe I will take my chances here.”

  “Suit yourself.” He didn’t wait any longer. The stagecoach rode out of town, whipping up a cloud of dust in its wake. Cadence stayed on the porch, watching it grow smaller.

  Please don’t let this be a mistake.

  “I can do this,” she whispered to herself. “One step at a time.”

  She smirked. That was hard advice for a cripple to take.

  Hauling her bag back inside, she announced to Mr. Garrison that she would be staying another night. She had just enough money to live at the hotel for a week. After that, she would
be out of funds.

  In such a small place, surely, she would be able to find a job within a day?

  With her bag back in her room thanks to Mr. Garrison, Cadence set off down Shallow Springs’ main streets. There were only a few of them, each “block” interspersed with businesses and houses. She would stop into each shop until she walked out of one with a job.

  Thirty minutes later, though, Cadence had discovered that was easier said than done. The general store was not hiring. Neither was the feed store. Nor the seamstress. No one was.

  Deflated, she returned to the hotel and crumpled into a chair in the hallway. The wall stared back at her. This could not be… In the whole town, not one person was looking for help?

  Perhaps she could clean houses and businesses until a full-time position opened up somewhere. It was not ideal, but Cadence had learned long ago to never be above any kind of good, honest work. An income was an income.

  “It’s unfortunate,” a man’s voice said, pulling her from her thoughts. “She was going to retire next year, but then, her aches just got worse overnight.”

  Cadence sat up straighter and peered at the doorway to the restaurant, where the voice was coming from.

  “It’s the worst when it’s in the hands,” a woman—Cadence thought she was Mrs. Garrison—said with a clicking of the tongue.

  Gingerly, Cadence rose from her chair and stepped closer to the restaurant. Something told her the conversation she was overhearing was an important one.

  “We’re going to have to close down unless one of the ladies can step in for a while,” the man said.

  “A housewife? But who has the time for that? Goodness knows I would do it if I could, but I just have my hands full with everything here.”

  “No, no. I’m certainly not asking you to do it.”

  Cadence cleared the edge of the door frame. It was Mrs. Garrison after all, wiping down tables as she talked. The middle-aged man standing nearby wore a nice black jacket and a tall hat. Cadence cleared her throat to announce her presence. Mrs. Garrison and the man both turned to look at her.

  Two sets of eyes on her at once felt like far too many, but Cadence forced a smile anyway. “Excuse me, but I could not help but overhear. It sounds as if you are in need of some help.”

  The man sighed. “We are. Mrs. Flaherty isn’t doing so well. She’s going to have to quit the job sooner than was expected.”

  “Mrs. Flaherty?”

  “Miss Cadence Hurley is new to town,” Mrs. Garrison explained to the man.

  “Ah. My apologies. Richard Lenox.” He took his hat off and bowed at Cadence. His actions all felt very formal, but pleasing and comfortable at the same time.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lenox. As Mrs. Garrison said, I am new to town. I also recently just decided to stay in the area.”

  “That’s very nice. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

  She waited for him to ask if she was able to help with whatever predicament he was in, but he only turned back to Mrs. Garrison. “I was thinking—”

  “I am looking for work.” Cadence stepped into the room. Mr. Lenox’s’ eyes fell to her limp, then quickly up to her face in an attempt to cover.

  “I have a lot of experience,” Cadence continued. “I have worked as a maid and as a flower girl.”

  Mr. Lenox smiled a bit, but it was a charitable smile. “Unfortunately, I do not think that experience will be of service in this situation.”

  “What kind of position are you looking to fill?”

  “Schoolteacher. As soon as possible.”

  Cadence’s heart fluttered. Why, she could do that! Not perfectly, but she could learn.

  “I have experience with children.”

  Mr. Lenox looked at her with new interest. “What kind of experience?”

  “I worked for many years at a household where the governesses were in and out all the time. The parents were very particular, so they were always replacing the help. Whenever there was not a governess to be had, I stepped in and taught the children myself.”

  “You don’t say.” Mr. Lenox took a step toward Cadence.

  “Yes, sir. And my mother herself, she taught me very well. Reading was very important in my family.”

  “You know your math? Equations and all?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hm.” He turned to Mrs. Garrison. “I do believe our prayers were just answered.”

  Cadence felt as if she were about to sprout wings and fly away for all the happiness blooming in her soul.

  “I’ll need you to take some tests, just to make sure you do have the understanding you claim to.”

  “Of course.” She eagerly nodded.

  “Can you take them right now? We need a teacher right away. You would start tomorrow. Pay is five-fifty a week. Since you don’t have a place to stay, we’ll put you up in the different students’ homes. That’s what we did with the lady before Mrs. Flaherty.”

  Five dollars and fifty cents a week! A place to stay! It was more than she had hoped for.

  “Yes, sir. Everything sounds wonderful. I would be very happy to take the tests right now.”

  “Wonderful.” His eyes glowed. “There’s a reading test and an arithmetic one. Very simple. There’s geography and history, too, of course, but everything you need to know for those subjects will be in the books. I’ll go fetch the papers right now. You’re not certified, I assume?”

  “N-no, sir.”

  “Hmm. That’s just fine. We can’t be that picky out here. Have a seat and I will be right back.”

  Cadence eased into a chair at the center table, her hands shaking. She hadn’t taken a test in years. She’d left school when she was thirteen to help out in the family shop, but her mother had insisted she keep up with her studies. Every night, while her ma darned socks or knitted hats in the candlelight, she had Cadence read to her from books. Math. Fiction. History. All of them.

  Cadence had never been so grateful for her smart, wonderful mother than she was in that moment.

  Lord, please help me to do a good job, she prayed as she waited for Mr. Lenox to return. I need this so badly.

  In what seemed to be no time at all, he returned with the tests and a freshly-sharpened pencil. “Whichever one you please first,” he instructed. “I’ll be in the kitchen with Mrs. Garrison.”

  Cadence took a long breath and rolled her shoulders. This was it. Everything depended on how well she performed in the next twenty minutes. It was ace these tests or return to Baltimore a pauper.

  The latter choice could not be an option.

  Bending over the arithmetic test first, Cadence got to work, figuring numbers in her head and in the margins of the paper with a concentration she hadn’t summoned in her whole life. She checked each problem twice, making sure to thoroughly go over them all before moving on to the reading and writing test.

  This one was easy. Cadence had always had a love for fiction and she had even written a few short stories when she was younger. She knew how an essay needed to be put together, knew how to choose sentences so one paragraph flowed smoothly into the next.

  “Are we done in here?” Mr. Lenox’s voice called.

  “Almost,” Cadence gasped, her pencil flying across the page. Two more sentences… two more and she would be done.

  “It’s been twenty minutes.”

  “I am done!” She dropped her pencil on the table and took in her first cleansing breath of the day.

  “All right, let’s see.”

  Mr. Lenox picked up the tests and took a seat across from Cadence, his eyes scanning across the first page. The floorboard creaked nearby. Cadence was dimly aware of Mrs. Garrison being somewhere nearby, but she could not find it in herself to turn and make eye contact. She was still as a statue, unable to move until she received the verdict.

  Finally, Mr. Lenox put the last page down. His gaze connected with Cadence’s. “Well, Miss Hurley, it looks like you’ve got yourself a job.”

  Cha
pter Four

  4. Beau

  Chapter four

  “Oh, it is cold today.” On the wagon’s bench, Gemma pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

  “Snow should be coming any day,” Beau commented, turning his gaze toward the sky. The day’s earlier sunshine had been quickly replaced by a thick gray, but the clouds didn’t look like heavy, snow-laden ones.