by Woods, Emily
Lessons of Love
A Falls Creek Western Romance
Emily Woods
Fairfield Publishing
Copyright © 2018 Emily Woods
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for review quotes, this book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the written consent of the author.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Thank You
1
After climbing aboard the train, Paul Alexander Rochester quickly found a seat and sought out his grandparents, who had seen him to the station. He wondered if they could sense the guilt weighing him down. He'd spun a web of deceit so complex that he could barely keep track of his lies.
There, the two of them stood regally on the platform, scanning the windows for his face. When they spotted him, their normally austere expressions lit slightly with approval, which only served to increase the burden he felt at his deception.
They'd raised him practically from infancy and given him all they could in the way of education, and now they believed he was on his way to Stanford University, clear across the continent. They'd questioned him at length about his choice of school, and he'd managed to convince them that he wanted an adventure along with a higher education. It had taken significant persuasion, since he was the only son of their long-deceased daughter, but in the end, they relented.
“I have a brother living in San Francisco,” his grandfather had informed him gravely. “You can call on him if need be. I'll let him know you're coming.”
Not given to tears, his grandmother has seen him off dry-eyed, but he knew she was anxious about his leaving, sure that they would never see him again.
“I'll write,” he promised. And he would eventually write, but not until well after he was settled at his intended destination, a town that was over twelve hundred miles away from Stanford. He would change his ticket at the earliest opportunity and only use the money his grandparents had given him if absolutely necessary. It was his plan to get a job once he arrived and support himself.
Finally, the train pulled away and he gave a solemn wave. His grandfather nodded, and his grandmother gave him a rare smile. Settling down, he pulled out his journal and opened it to the middle, where he'd written the details of his real journey and the exact location of the ranch where he hoped to find work.
“Triple Range Ranch,” he murmured to himself. Even the name sounded like a dream. He'd never wanted to go to university, but had pretended for his grandfather's sake, going along with his plans, all the while making his own. Jacob Rochester believed he was sending his grandson to be educated in business, so he could take over the textile mill that Jacob owned and operated, but that was never going to happen. That was never his plan.
Paul looked at the name at the front of the journal and put a single line through it. His reinvention of himself would begin now, starting with his name.
From this day forth, he would be Alex Rogers, son an immigrant family brought up in the poorest part of Pennsylvania. He would allow his luggage to go missing and wear rough clothing that would allow him to look the part. He would present himself as just another young man in search of adventure in the Wild West.
He just hoped he had the nerve to see it through. It was the fulfillment of his one dream since he was old enough to imagine it.
Alex Rogers was on his way to meet his father.
* * *
Changing the ticket was easy enough, but the conductor gave him a bit of a strange look. “Kind of peculiar,” he commented, although he quickly did as Alex had asked. “You'll have to get out at the next station and get on another train.”
That was fine with Alex, although he had to wait several hours for the right train. Once aboard the train heading west to Montana, he entered a compartment with the just two people in it, one older female and a younger. He nodded at them both, greeting them politely. The older woman responded in kind, but the younger didn’t pay him the slightest attention as her gazed was fixed out the window. It seemed to him that she’d rather be anywhere but here.
“I've heard the view improves the closer you get to Montana,” he commented lightly, taking a seat opposite her. She was rather breathtaking, with dark curling hair caught up in what he presumed was a fashionable green hat. A few tendrils escaped to frame her face in a becoming manner. Her skin was creamy and smooth, but it was her flashing eyes that caught his attention. They were shimmering with indignation.
“It's not the view I take issue with,” she retorted, giving him the barest of glances before resuming staring out the window. “But rather the fact that I'm being forced to move to a barbaric society.”
“Forced? Really? By whom?” A note of humor entered his voice, but she merely scowled and chose not to answer. At that point, the older woman beside her spoke up.
“Don't mind her highness,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “She's not real partial to places where you can breathe the air without coughing.”
He laughed a little at that description of the city. “So, you're acquainted then?” He couldn't really see how, given the obvious disparity in their status, but curiosity compelled him to ask.
“Well, her parents paid me a little to keep an eye on her, seeing as we're going the same direction.”
“More like a small fortune,” the young woman muttered, keeping her eyes on the landscape. “Along with upgrading your trip to first class, and for what? To babysit me?”
The chaperone was clearly unperturbed by the younger one’s attitude. “Maybe to make sure you didn't get off the train in the wrong stop, or perhaps to prevent unwanted attention from young men.”
Alex suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I assure you I have no ill intentions.”
“Aw, I can see that right away, young man. I'm not at all worried about you. In any case, my sister is in Miss Christina's parents’ employ, and when they heard I was going out west, they thought this was a good opportunity for her to see the other side of the country.”
“Opportunity?” Christina huffed. “More like punishment.”
He wasn't really sure he wanted to know more about the young woman, so he turned his attention to the older woman and chatted with her a bit. However, the atmosphere in the compartment became so hostile that he finally decided to switch and hoped that he would never have to set eyes on such a miserable person again. Despite her beauty, he was repelled by her spoiled attitude.
A few days later, after having successful avoided running into the two women again, he carried out the next part of his plan. He needed to change trains along the way and disembarked at a city many miles away from Great Falls. At the Minneapolis depot, Alex changed his clothes and allowed the train to travel on without him. It was his intention to take the next one, which would leave the following day. The clothes were intentionally rumpled as he didn’t want to cause any suspicion when he arrived. How would a man asking for work as a hand be able to afford the fine suit he’d left Pennsylvania in? The story he was going to tell wouldn't allow for such a thing.
He walked about the town trying to break in the boots, which were still a bit too new for his liking. The town was thriving and he was able to divert himself for several hours wh
ile waiting for the next train.
He'd kept only a few personal belongings with him, letting the rest of his bags go on ahead to Stanford. When he changed his ticket, he told the conductor that he didn't have any luggage. The lie made him sweat a little, but it was necessary to achieve his goal.
Four days later, the train entered the state of Montana, and it was even better than Alex had imagined. The mountains and wide-open spaces caused him both stress and relief. He was nearer his goal than ever, which quickened his blood, but the beauty of the land filled him with awe.
It only took another twelve hours to reach his destination. When he stepped off the train with just a simple canvas bag that he'd picked up along the way, he felt like a new man. Some might find the word ‘man’ a bit of an overstatement as he'd only recently reached his nineteenth birthday, but he felt justified. He knew that this journey would test his mental, emotional, and physical strength. Doing a combination of gentlemanly sports and weight-lifting at the private school he'd attended had given him some muscle, but he knew that real work would be a different test altogether.
He tried to imitate the saunter of what he believed was a Western man's walk and throw off his training of correct posture as he strolled through town looking for a horse for sale to take him to the ranch.
“Pardon me, pardner,” he drawled to a nearby man, earning him a wary look. “But would you happen to know where I can get me a horse?”
The man frowned at him slightly, as though offended, but replied, “Big Jimmy has a few.” He jerked his head towards a crumpling shack on the edge of town. “Might sell you one.”
“Thank you kindly,” he replied, tipping his hat. The man gave him another peculiar look, and Alex thought perhaps he was overdoing it. He'd tried to tone down his impression a little.
“Hi there,” he said casually to a man who was clearly a blacksmith.
The swarthy fellow put down his hammer and squinted at him. “Help you?”
“Uh, yeah, I hope so. Do you happen to have any horse available for sale?” That sounded a bit formal, so he tried again. “I'm looking for a nag to get me to Triple Range.”
The blacksmith raised an eyebrow. “You ain't from around here. Got business there?”
“You might say that,” he replied with forced casualness. “I'd like a horse, if you've got one to spare.”
“Yep, but they don't come free.” He looked Alex up and down as though trying to assess how much he could get out of him.
“I've got a few dollars,” he replied, hoping to make it sound as though he wasn't willing to pay too much.
“Hope you've got more than a few. A good horse will run you a couple hundred.”
Alex felt his face drain of color. That was how much his grandparents had given him for his first year of tuition. He'd hoped not to spend it all, but now he saw that he’d have no other choice.
“And do you have such a horse?” he asked in a somewhat superior tone, forgetting to sound like a cowboy.
“Might do. See for yourself.”
He led him to the back where a few horses were kept in stalls. Alex had no idea which one to buy, but he tried to assess them based on how they looked. The man rattled off some information about them, and Alex decided to take the horse that was neither the most expensive nor the least. He desperately hoped he’d not been taken advantage of.
“And can you tell me how to get to the ranch?” he asked as he handed over his tuition.
The man let out a stream of tobacco juice before answering. “Follow this trail for 'bout sixteen miles, turn left at the fork in the road. Keep going another ten and then make a right. Go on down that there road for 'nother fifteen, give or take, and you’ll see it. It's the biggest ranch in the area. Only a fool would miss it.”
He certainly hoped he wasn’t that, even though he felt he might be as he watched the man tuck away his grandparents’ money with a sly grin.
Thankfully, the horse came with a saddle bridle. Alex was accustomed to riding as his school had educated its students in equine activities, but it would be very different riding along a path that seemed to lead to nowhere, rather than along well-maintained paths.
“Thanks for everything,” he said coolly as he mounted. He'd decided to leave off the word 'partner' as it hadn't garnered much camaraderie when he tried it out before. “Have a good day.”
He picked up the reins and headed off in what he desperately hoped was the right direction. Even though his faith wasn't terribly deep, he found himself praying the whole way.
2
When a large ranch finally came into view after nearly three hours of riding, Alex released a shaky sigh and muttered, “Thank God.”
He'd been completely unsure if he was going in the right direction, even though he'd been able to follow the directions the blacksmith had given him. There'd been nothing for miles and miles, and he wondered if he was going to be one of those statistics people heard about regarding single travelers getting lost and then dying in the middle of nowhere.
But now he was here.
Upon closer inspection, the ranch was rather impressive. There was a large house wooden house, two stories high, a barn not too far from that, and a long building that he guessed was the bunkhouse nearly beside it. A fair bit off in the distance, he could see another house, but it didn't strike him as being nearly as big. Of course, his perception could have been off.
Now was the moment he'd been building up to since he was about ten years old, and the idea of finding his father had occurred to him. What would he say when he finally met him? Would he recognize him at all? His grandparents had always brushed off any questions he'd had saying that his father had a new life and wasn't interested in him. Whenever he tried to pursue the topic further, he would be rebuffed and made to feel that he didn't appreciate all his grandparents had done for him. That guilt would usher him into silence.
But now, somewhere in the vast land, his father lived and breathed, provided that he hadn't passed away. Alex hadn’t let himself dwell on that possibility...not ever. His only prayer his whole life long was to meet his father. Surely God wouldn't have allowed him to come this far if his father wasn't alive.
He had to hang onto that hope.
The horse had proven to be adequate, although he suspected he'd been overcharged. In any case, he spurred it on now and tried to breathe normally. The closer he got to the ranch, the more his body betrayed him. Not only was his heart beating erratically, but his stomach churned violently. However, he managed to get himself under control and approached the large house.
“Good morning,” a pleasant-looking woman called out. She was in the midst of hanging laundry, but stopped as he approached. To his thinking, she appeared to be about in her forties, but Alex was never a good judge of age.
“Good morning,” he replied politely, dismounting and approaching the woman deferentially. “I'm looking for the owner of the ranch. Would you happen to know where I could find him?”
Inwardly, he groaned at his turn of phrase, but nerves made him extra polite.
“I do, in fact,” she replied with a smile. “But he won't be back to the house for another hour or so. Could I help you?”
Perhaps it would be better to make a good impression on the woman who was likely his wife. Then he might stand a better chance of getting hired.
“Well, I've just gotten off the train in Great Falls today, and bought a horse to ride out here with the hopes of being employed, on this here ranch.” He added the last part in an attempt to diffuse the formality of his voice.
The woman's eyes sparkled, and he wondered if she was laughing at him.
“You just bought this horse? In Great Falls? I hope you didn't buy him from Jimmy Fullman.”
A feeling of trepidation skittered along his spine. “Is he not honest?”
“That's putting it mildly,” she answered, taking a long look at his horse. “It's lucky this old mare got you all the way from town. It might be the last thing she
ever does.”
His heart sank. All his tuition had gone towards the horse. He wouldn’t be able to buy a new one.
“I thought people in the West were honest and friendly. I never expected to be cheated.”
She shook her head sympathetically. “I'm sorry that it happened. Perhaps when one of the men goes into town next, they can visit Jimmy and see about getting some of your money back.”
With a snap, she folded the sheet she'd just taken of the line and dropped it into the basket by her feet. “I'm Kate Winston, by the way. And you are?”
“Oh, excuse me. I'm Pa—, uh, Alex Rogers. Nice to meet you.” He gave a tiny bow. Too late, he realized that he was giving himself away. “I mean, howdy.”
Now she burst out laughing. “Oh, Alex Rogers. Where are you from? New York?”
Shamefaced, he looked at the ground and muttered, “Pennsylvania.”
“And you were hoping to get a job as a hand out here, is that right? After all the money that was poured into your education?”
Now his jaw dropped. “How did you know?”
After snagging another sheet off the line, she grinned and shook her head. “I'm from Connecticut myself ,and I could see private school on you the minute you opened your mouth.” She must have noticed his shame. “But there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You wanted to make a good impression on Luke and not come across as some soft city boy, is that right?”
“Yes, ma'am,” he admitted humbly. “I thought I'd never stand a chance of being hired otherwise.”
“Well, I do wonder why you abandoned the city and decided to come out here, but your reasons are your own. And don't be quick to judge what makes a good hand. Luke doesn't judge someone based on background, but character. If you are honest and hardworking, that'll go a lot further than anything else.”
