by Joyce Armor
Bethany pouted. “I still don’t want to talk about this in front of your housekeeper.”
“My…housekeeper?”
He looked at Lindy. She grinned. And then he smiled. He looked back at Bethany.
“Lindy is not my housekeeper.”
Bethany appeared appalled. “You mean she’s a…a…”
“She’s my wife.”
Stunned silence, and then: “Your wife?!” It was more of a scream than a question. “But, but you can’t. You were supposed to marry me.”
She jumped up and Cal sat on the arm of Lindy’s chair and grabbed on to her hand, like he needed a lifeline.
“I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression, Bethany, although I don’t know how that could be. We haven’t even seen each other in months.”
“Did you get her with child? Is that why you married this…this…?
“That’s my wife you’re talking about,” he interrupted, “and I won’t have you insult her.”
He stood. “In fact, I think it’s time for you to go.”
Bethany stared at him mutinously. Her friend stood and tried to help her up. “Come on.”
After one scathing look at Lindy, Bethany stood and stomped out of the house, her friend meekly following. Lindy figured it was only because Patty left last that the door didn’t slam behind them.
Cal looked at his wife. “I don’t know what to say.”
She stood and, much to his surprise, hugged him tightly. And he hugged her right back. After a few moments, she pulled back and gazed up at him. “You’re mine, Cal Bronson. Anyway, I could take her in a fight.”
Chapter 4
After the midday meal of ham and cheese sandwiches and vegetable soup, Cal left to take care of ranch duties and Lindy washed the dishes. Subsequently, she took the clothes from the line and remade the bed with fresh sheets. Once the pork roast was in the oven cooking, she wrote letters to her family and cousins. That still left several hours to kill before she needed to make final supper preparations, and she was bored. The house was clean, the laundry done, the evening meal cooking and she wasn’t in the mood to sew or transform the house, radically at least. Maybe she would ride out to that field of wildflowers she and Cal had come across yesterday. Yes, that would be her one statement for the day. She would replace the carved bear on the dining table with a vase of wildflowers. She could place her grandmother’s white doily under it. What a fond remembrance that would make.
That decided, she changed into her navy blue split skirt and light blue blouse and marched down to the stable, a woman on a mission. Joe, his thick brown hair tied back, had finished mucking the stalls and was repairing a couple of bridles. She greeted him and led the buckskin she had ridden with Cal out of her stall and began saddling her.
“Do you want some help?”
“Thanks, Joe, I’ve got this.”
He watched as she deftly saddled and bridled the horse.
“Where are you going? Cal said I should…”
“Not off the ranch,” she interrupted. “He said I should ride with someone if I left the ranch property, but I won’t.”
“But still I think…”
Lindy turned around and gave him her best smile. “I won’t be gone long, Joe. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
Without giving him time to object, she jumped into the saddle and began walking the horse out of the barn.
“But…”
“I’ll be back shortly,” Lindy called over her shoulder as she cantered off.
Poor Joe. He was much too young to best a determined woman in a disagreement. Just to be safe, Lindy stopped when she got a quarter of a mile down the road and retrieved from her saddlebag the pistol Cal had given her for protection, securing it at her waist. For some reason a picture of Bethany came into her mind. She could not imagine that creature carrying a pistol on her person. Of course she did have claws for her protection. Lindy obviously was a much better match for Cal than that imperious piece of fluff.
The Texas Ranger’s wife had a good sense of direction and was fairly certain she could find that field of wildflowers. It couldn’t have been more than a mile or so from the ranch house. It was a gorgeous June day, the sky a cerulean blue with wispy white clouds. When she reached the field, a gentle breeze made the flowers appear to be moving. The sight was mesmerizing. She sat on her horse and took in nature’s beauty for several minutes before dismounting and walking into the field. Lindy put her arms out and turned in a circle then and decided to indulge herself. She fell onto her back and lay amidst the flowers, gazing at the sky. Then she bolted up suddenly, batting ants off her neck and arms. So much for that fantasy.
Lindy spent the next few minutes picking yellow, pink and blue wildflowers. When she felt she had gathered enough, she had to figure out how to get them back to the ranch house without squishing them. She didn’t want to carry them, as some of the stems were sticky. Instead, she decided to wedge the stems under the back of her saddle but above the blanket so they wouldn’t irritate the horse’s skin. She took several minutes to do that and was pleased with the outcome. The decorated horse almost looked like it had won a race at Saratoga Springs. Grinning, she remounted and was about to turn for home when she saw smoke in the distance. It was the opposite direction of the house. Maybe Cal was branding or the boys were cooking up a trail meal. She decided to investigate, keeping her hand on the pistol as she rode, just in case.
As she got closer, she could see a lone man sitting by a campfire. He was smoking a small cigar and watching her as she approached. He wasn’t one of Cal’s men. Was he a rustler? A vagrant? She kept her hand on the pistol. The man looked to be perhaps in his mid-20’s. He had dark hair, a mustache and icy blue eyes. When she got close enough, that’s what struck her the most about him, those eyes. They were blank, devoid of whatever it was that projected humanity. They were soulless.
She felt goose-bumps on her arms, as if she were facing the devil. It was frightening. Still, she knew it was better to tough it out. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled creepily. That’s when she noticed the scar running from his left eye down to his mouth. It made his mouth turn down on that side when he smiled, giving him that odd look.
“It’s not often I find a beautiful woman riding around alone. Especially with a flowery horse.”
She pulled out the pistol and pointed it at him. “I asked you a question.”
He stiffened, then put out his cigar in the dirt and stood. Her heart started beating wildly. The man’s brown trousers and tan shirt, along with a brown vest, weren’t particularly dirty but looked worn. He just had an air of corruption about him, and she fought the urge to shudder.
“Just camping.”
“This is private property. You need to leave and not come back.”
He smiled that weird smile again. “I’ll be on my way then.” He picked up his hat and started toward his horse, which was ground tied several yards away. That’s when he heard the gun click. She’d cocked it.
“Put out the fire first.”
Bitch.
He strode back to the fire pit he had built and kicked dirt over it until it was out, then walked back to his horse, mounted and rode off, but not before he tipped his hat to Lindy. It wasn’t a gentlemanly gesture but a threat. Lindy let out a breath, willing her heart to slow down. She was not a confrontational person by nature. This was a new life, though, and obviously required a new set of skills. While she didn’t quite think of the ranch as hers yet, she would not let anyone threaten or disturb Cal’s property. She walked her horse in the direction the man had gone to make sure he hadn’t circled back, then rode back to the campfire and dismounted. She kicked more dirt on the fire to make certain it was completely out. A wildfire could devastate a farm or ranch in minutes.
That night, after she and her husband made sweet and passionate love, Lindy knew she had to tell Cal about the man on his property. She figured he would probably be angry that she had confronted him
and didn’t want him to scold her or worse in front of the men. She had never seen him irate and was a bit fearful. He was holding her so gently, moving her hair off her shoulder. She turned over to face him and inched back a little ways.
“Uh, Cal?”
“Hmm?”
He sounded sleepy. Maybe she should wait. No, that was the coward’s way out. She may be cautious at times but she was no coward.
“Remember those wildflowers on the dining table?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, those were nice.”
“Well, then you know I took a ride today to get them.”
He was more awake now.
“I took the horse you had saddled for me. I hope that was okay.”
He sat up. “Did you take someone with you?”
She sat up, too. “No. You said to take someone with me if I left your property.”
“Our property.”
“It’s just that I…I…um…I found someone who shouldn’t have been on…our property.”
“What?”
Now he was wide awake, and she had to fight the urge to squirm.
“Um…he had built a campfire and was just sitting by it. I didn’t like the looks of him. I convinced him to leave.”
“Describe him.”
“Young, probably in his 20’s, dark hair and skin. A mustache, and a scar on his cheek that ran from his eye to one corner of his mouth.”
Lindy thought she saw a flicker of recognition in Cal’s eyes, but it was there and gone so quickly she could have been mistaken.
Cal grabbed both of her hands. “New rule, no riding anywhere without me or one of the men with you. You could have been hurt or killed.”
“I think he was in more danger than I was. I had my pistol aimed at him the entire time.”
That should have brought him comfort but he just about climbed out of his skin. Decker would put a bullet between her eyes with no remorse, and that’s if he didn’t misuse her first. Christ all mighty. Why did I bring her into this mess?
* * *
Three days later, Lindy had to beg Cal to take her with him when he went to town to pick up fencing supplies. They could use some more food supplies, although the situation wasn’t dire. Mostly she wanted to go to town because she was going a little nutty being cooped up. He hadn’t confined her to the ranch house, yet it almost felt like it. She wasn’t used to having a bodyguard or shadow and didn’t like it.
As he directed the wagon down the main street in San Angelo, Cal turned to his wife. “Why don’t I drop you at the mercantile? Just put everything on my account there. I’ll go pick up my supplies at the feed and building store and pick you up back here in an hour.”
She smiled. “That’s fine. Do you need anything at the mercantile?”
“Maybe you could get the ingredients to make a peach pie.”
“You should have said something earlier,” she chuckled as he pulled up in front of the store. “Pies are my specialty.”
He squeezed her hand. “I know another of your specialties that I particularly enjoy, Mrs. Bronson.”
She blushed from her head to her toes and he grinned and then became serious.
“Don’t leave the store.”
Another of those autocratic orders that got her back up. She smiled sweetly and jumped down from the wagon before he could help her and rushed up the steps and into the mercantile without turning around.
Once again, he couldn’t help but notice she hadn’t answered him. Well, he needed to hurry and pick up the fencing supplies and meet Decker before Lindy was done shopping or wandered anywhere.
The store wasn’t exactly crowded, but several shoppers, all female, browsed the yard goods and food items. Two scruffy youngsters eyed the jar holding peppermint sticks with yearning.
“Here now, I told you children you’re not welcome here,” an aproned middle-aged man with graying hair, a gray mustache, ruddy cheeks and a paunch, called out. He held a broom and looked like he was about to whack the urchins.
Lindy stepped between them. “Excuse me, Mr….?”
“Brockmeyer. Eldon Brockmeyer. I own this store.”
Lindy smiled. “Well, Mr. Brockmeyer. I would like to buy my friends here a peppermint stick each. And I have many other items I wish to purchase.”
“Well, er, yes, I’ll see to that right now,” he huffed. He leaned the broom on a counter and lifted the lid on the candy canister, pulling out a couple of sticks of peppermint. He handed them to the children as if he thought he would catch a disease if he touched their hands.
The little boy, whose clothes were dirty and tattered, looked to be 7 or 8. His thick blonde hair was too long by far and kind of wild. He had a streak of dirt across his chin. The little girl could not have been more than 4. Her light blonde hair was neater, tied back with a blue ribbon. Though her faded calico dress looked fairly clean, it was worn and too short.
“Thank you, ma’am,” the boy said, and she was struck by the wary look in his eyes.
The little girl, bless her heart, curtsied.
“What can I help you with, Mrs…?
Lindy turned to the shopkeeper. “Bronson. Oh, I’ll need 10 pounds of flour, a pound of sugar, two cans of peaches if you have them and I’ll be buying some yard goods.”
“I’ll see to those items.”
He walked off and she turned back to find out where the children belonged. They were gone. She hurried outside and looked up and down the street. There was no sign of them. It disturbed her. Lindy hated to see anyone, particularly children, in distress.
When she went up to the counter to ask the proprietor about a gravy ladle she was holding, she couldn’t help inquiring about the children.
“The Cutter kids, Toby and Bess. They live with their no-account grandpa ‘bout a half mile east of town.”
She added the gravy ladle to the items the storekeeper had gathered. “What about their parents?”
“Their pa ran off after the girl was born. Heard he got killed in a saloon fight in Houston. Their ma died a couple years later. Consumption.
She made a mental note to find a way to visit their home soon. Maybe she would take them a pie. Mr. Brockmeyer was busy totaling up a customer’s purchase when Lindy heard voices in the next aisle.
“I still say something is fishy. Where did he find that woman? She doesn’t even know how to dress.”
“What does it matter? She’s his wife now.”
“I’ll have my daddy find out about her. He has a detective on his payroll.”
It had to be Bethany and her friend. Lindy honestly didn’t want to listen, but short of leaving the store, she had no choice.
“I thought he would marry you, not that…that Lindy person."
“It won’t last. He’s too much of a man for that mouse. And when he leaves her, I’ll be waiting.”
“And she has freckles.”
The ultimate insult. Lindy would have laughed if Bethany’s comments hadn’t hit home. She actually ducked beneath the yard goods table as the young women walked by and toward the front of the store. Maybe she was a coward after all. Her mind told her Bethany was just spouting sour grapes. Her heart, though, remembered Cory and how she hadn’t been good enough for him. It couldn’t happen again. Could it?
“There you are, girls. Your mother is waiting, Bethany.”
Lindy dared to peek out from under the table to view the authoritarian speaker, who had to be the richest rancher in the territory or whatever little miss bitchy had said about the great and powerful Cortland Rensalaar. He was a large man and not in a very solid way, as his stomach protruded, with black hair streaked with gray at his temples and a black and gray mustache. Even in black slacks, a white shirt and gray vest, she could see he was dressed expensively. She particularly noticed his boots, since she was on the floor. They were cowhide leather with a fanciful CR branded into the side.
“We’re done here, Daddy,” Bethany chirped and she and her bland girlfriend followed him out of the store.
Lindy thought about Cortland Rensalaar. With all his wealth and property, he couldn’t raise a kind and loving daughter. And he couldn’t hold a candle to Cal Bronson, a real man if ever there was one. Now, if her husband could just appreciate her for the competent, courageous woman she was. Yes, now climb out from under the table where you’ve been hiding like a craven coward.
After purchasing one ready-made dress and yard goods to make another riding skirt and blouse, a couple of dresses, a shirt for Cal and curtains for the bedroom and front room, she knew an hour had not gone by. Once she paid Mr. Brockmeyer, partially with her own money and putting the rest on Cal’s accounts, she asked the storekeeper to hold her items until her husband returned with the wagon. At that point, she decided to walk down to the feed store to meet Cal.
Keeping her eyes open for Toby and Bess, Lindy strolled down the boardwalk. It disturbed her to think what those little ones had gone through and were still suffering. When she compared it to her loving upbringing, she could barely stand it. It was so unfair. And then she thought of how she and Cal would treat their own children. He would be such a good father. He was so thoughtful and kind and caring and protective. She had taken such a chance in becoming a mail-order bride and could not believe her great good luck. She passed a young farm couple, dressed humbly and gazing so intently into each other’s eyes, they nearly ran into her. With apologies and guilty smiles, they passed her by and she continued on.
At each alley she passed by, Lindy glanced down it, both looking for the children and as a habit for keeping safe now that she was so far from the comfort of her family. At the third alley, it was almost as if her mind did not accept what it saw. She stepped back immediately, her breath ragged. She didn’t look again. About 10 feet into the alley, her husband was talking to the man she had run off the property. Cal had his arm over the man’s shoulder like they were friends.
Though they were talking in low voices, she could hear several words and phrases. She definitely heard “bank,” “safe” and “a week from Thursday.”
Were they planning to rob the bank? In a panic, she crossed the street and turned back the way she had come. She could barely breathe. Cal was an honorable man, wasn’t he? There was no doubt in her mind that the man he was with was everything that was dishonorable. Could she have been so wrong about her husband? After all, she had only known him for a week. But what a week. She was so confused. She knew he did undercover work. Is that what he was doing? Or was he a criminal using the Texas Rangers as a cover. If so, that was rather brilliant, she had to admit.
