by Angela Lain
He started up the conversation again.
“You like Abe?”
“I don’t know. I barely know Abe. He has always seemed agreeable to me, but… what of the rest of you?”
“Adam has a girl. Pa doesn’t know it, but he won’t offer for you. David has never seemed interested in getting hitched.” In his opinion David would actually make an appalling husband, he didn’t want to stay here, he didn’t enjoy ranching. A wife would hardly change that. “Joe is only just nineteen, he’s too young.”
“And you?”
Ben glanced over at her. “I don’t work here anymore. I doubt I would be considered as a suitable candidate.”
“Oh.” She turned her gaze to the horizon, her expression contemplative.
Ben found he couldn’t tear his eyes off her. She looked so sad, he wanted to give her a hug, just to cheer her up a little, to let her know someone cared. Because he did care. He barely knew her, but he admired her feisty determination, and refusal to accept her lot. She was pretty, and she would look prettier with that lovey red mane loose around her shoulders.
He pulled his thoughts back from the paths they were wandering down. However she might fight it, she would wed one of his brothers, and it would not be him, his father would never allow that.
***
Charis knew she was trapped. If the letter Mr. Ferguson held truly had father’s signature, there was no way out of this. She wasn’t ready to submit meekly, she would fight, but ultimately, if the letter was signed, she would fail. She thought of the brothers; maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? If she got to know them maybe she would find she had a tendrė for one of them. She ventured a peek at her companion. A pity he considered he was not available; she had always thought the older twins a handsome pair, even as an unsophisticated ten year old.
They rode into the main yard of the ranch. It was almost as Charis remembered, except there was another building adjoining the house.
“What is that?” She waved at the building
“Bunk house. Pa built it, with our help of course, about eight years ago. The family was growing up, and we needed the space. Now only Pa, and Josh and his wife sleep in the house. The rest of us bunk down in there. We eat in the house.”
“And where will I sleep?” She’d not given it much thought, the house was larger than her childhood home, but still small compared to the city dwellings she had seen.
“When you are married?”
“No, now!” Charis snapped.
He smiled at her, amused at her flash of temper; that alone annoyed her even more.
“I guess you can have the extra room. It was Ruth’s. No-one has taken it, I guess Pa thought it would be showing favoritism to give it to anyone else. He moved up to the loft room when Josh and Maybelle married, I think he likes to look from the window over his domain. I dare say when you are wed, you and your husband will move into the empty room.”
Charis ground her teeth in annoyance and tried to control her temper.
The door of the house opened and a young woman stepped out.
“Hi there, Deputy Ben,” her voice was teasing, “who is your friend?” She cast Charis a knowing look, which set her hackles up once more.
“Maybelle, this is Miss Charis Lovell. Charis, meet Mrs. Maybelle Ferguson, Joshua’s wife.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Charis returned automatically. She could only wish the introductions had been delayed until she had time to dismount from the horse. Seated as she was, astride, in a dress, could only be construed as improper. She supposed she deserved the rather disdainful look she was receiving.
She gathered her skirts and swung to the floor, smoothing the material back into place as soon as she landed on her feet.
“You need a spilt skirt, or a pair of britches,” Maybelle observed.
Charis took a breath and raised her chin, this woman was around her own age, she was not going to be railroaded by her. She struck Charis as being very sure of herself, then again, beautiful women generally were, they were used to men admiring and flattering them.
“I was not in a position to get either before I travelled,” she returned.
“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
Ben answered. “Miss Lovell was at the house, which as you know, is called the Lovell property. It belonged to her family. She had returned home, unaware that the house now belongs to the Fergusons.”
“Allegedly,” Charis added, darkly.
“Oh, if Father says so, it is true,” Maybelle observed. “One thing he is very confident about is his own position. He would never make a claim that was not true.”
Charis knew she was glaring at the raven haired beauty, but having her worst fears confirmed did not improve her temper.
She saw Ben glancing from one to the other, looking concerned about their prickly exchange. “Maybe we can sit down over a cup of coffee, and I will fill you in on what is happening, Maybelle.”
“All right.” She smiled at him, and Charis felt a stab of anger. The girl was overly friendly, considering she was married to Ben’s brother.
Ben tied both horses outside the house and removed her bags before following her into the house with Maybelle.
Charis looked around the kitchen area, she remembered it well. There were fancy new curtains at the window, but little else had changed. As in most kitchens, the coffee pot stood on the back of the stove, and to Charis’ surprise, and envy, a sewing machine stood in one corner.
Maybelle moved to fill three cups, and placed a jug of cream on the table. She added plenty to her own cup, along with a spoonful of honey. Charis added a drop of cream to hers, and noted that Benjamin drank his black.
“What are you doing here?” Maybelle asked. “I see you have your luggage; are you staying? Why are you here if the place belongs to Mr. Ferguson?”
“Allegedly,” Charis repeated her earlier words.
“I think there can be little doubt,” Ben muttered apologetically. “Maybelle, Miss Lovell came here to live, to make the house into a home again, but...”
“That is no longer possible,” Charis cut him off. “It would appear that I am required to live here.”
“Live here? Why?”
“Because Pa signed a document to say that one of his sons would marry her,” Ben relied flatly.
“Allegedly!”
“Miss Lovell, if my father says…”
“I will accept it when I see my father’s signature on the paper.”
“I have no doubt Pa will show you what you need to see when he gets home. Until then, how about we get you settled in the empty room, and then you and Maybelle can get acquainted.”
Charis regarded Maybelle Ferguson. If they were to be thrown together in this house, she would have to find a way to get along with her, even though she wasn’t convinced, at first encounter, that they had anything at all in common.
“Let me get this straight. You are going to marry one of the Ferguson men? Which one did you have in mind?” Maybelle demanded.
“I didn’t.”
“I think Pa…” Ben began.
“Will choose for you?” Maybelle gave a giggle. “Oh, that is really something! No doubt it will be Abe. Good luck to you there!” Her face fell. “Then again, if it is Abe, you will be taking over here, won’t you?”
“I … don’t know,” Charis returned doubtfully. “I wouldn’t want to oust you from your position, but I would like a home of my own.”
“Hmmp. If you want the kitchen, I might be prepared to yield it.”
Charis wondered at that statement, but she had no chance to question it, because Maybelle was off, talking about the ranch she had grown up on, about her father’s cattle, and how valued she had been as one of his cowhands. It struck her that Maybelle was a rather thoughtless and self-centered young woman, she was so beautiful, she’d obviously been spoiled her whole life. She was used to people agreeing when she fluttered her eyelashes. As far as Charis could tell she wasn’t unpleasant, but
she seemed to believe the world stopped for her. Living in a house full of men had most likely encouraged this trait. She couldn’t help but wonder how they would get along.
Ben did venture a couple of questions about her life since leaving here, and enquiries about what her father was doing, but Maybelle held court for most of the time. The only time she showed any real interest in what Charis had to say, was when she mentioned China.
“China? Your father has gone to China and you preferred to come here?”
“Not exactly. My father and his new wife have gone to China, I was not included in their plans.”
“Oh,” Maybelle looked taken aback. “That’s not very nice.”
“No it isn’t,” Ben agreed. “Now I think we should get Miss Lovell settled in her room.” He stood up and hefted her bags. “Lead the way, Maybelle.”
Charis looked up at him, well aware that he had deliberately stopped Maybelle from asking what might be painful questions. The truth was she didn’t much care that Father had left her behind, she wasn’t happy about this situation, but her father had fallen even further in her estimation in the last few hours.
“Call me Charis, please. And thank you.”
***
“Here it is,” Maybelle announced. “I will leave you to get settled, I need to start the supper, and I want to go out for a short ride on my pony before that. You will help me with supper preparations?”
“I will,” Charis agreed.
Ben dropped the bags by the bed and looked around. He’d not been in this room for many months. It was a little worn-looking, which surprised him, because Maybelle was a great one for sewing things like curtains. It was also not exactly empty, it had been used as storage for a number of things, mostly from the family’s childhood. A rocking horse still held pride of place.
“Umm, sorry about the lumber. The place could do with cleaning and cheering up. I imagine you will need to make the bed. Maybelle..?”
“The sheets are in the big cupboard, I’m off outside, help yourself.” Maybelle breezed off.
Ben stared after her. He now wondered how he had ever considered her as a potential wife. True Joshua seemed happy, and they were definitely devoted to each other, but as a homemaker, she was sadly lacking.
He turned back to Charis, who was examining the chest of drawers.
“There are clothes in here. Is there somewhere else to put them, or do I need to keep my things in my bags?”
“Of course they can be taken out,” Ben stepped over to look. This was something Maybelle should definitely have been doing, but since she’d relinquished all responsibility by walking off, he would have to step up and help.
In truth, he wanted to talk with Charis. The questions he had asked in the kitchen just now had not been answered because Maybelle wasn’t interested, but he was.
“So tell me, what did your father do after he left here?”
“All sorts. He never stuck at anything for long. He went into business with several people, in a restaurant, and a shop, and even an undertaker. He was always the silent partner, the money, not the one who worked at it. Strangely enough he never made a go of anything.”
“So how did you survive? Where did you live?”
“Mother and I worked in a laundry for a while, and we lived in rented places. When mother died, and I ended up working as a maid, and in a bakery. Then Father won a gold claim in a card game. He suddenly had plenty of money; he married his new wife, and she was the one who wanted to go to China. I thought we were going to San Francisco.”
“Charis, I know this is far from what you wanted, but I hope you can find a proper home here. I hope you might be happy.”
She gave him a weak smile, those green eyes looked so sad. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it was since she’d had the chance to be happy. He found himself wanting to see the shine that had been there when she was a child.
“Charis,” he reached out and took her hand, “We are none of us ogres, except maybe David. I think you could be happy.”
“Maybe, as long as your father doesn’t pair me with David. I never much liked him, even as a child, from what you say, he hasn’t improved.”
“David is… always angry.”
She nodded, “So you think I should accept Abe, if he agrees to it?”
“I think that would be your best course of action.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wanted to take them back. He wanted to get to know her, he wanted the chance to know her, and he wanted the chance to be the one she chose. But it would never happen, because his father would favor Abe, and Abe would say yes, and Charis would have no choice at all!
CHAPTER FIVE
B en left a couple of hours later, after Maybelle had returned from taking her pony for her daily ride. Charis was left with her new friend, and was soon put to work preparing vegetables while Maybelle prepared the stew.
Charis watched the girl surreptitiously, she was fairly sure her skill in the kitchen was limited, not that this should be any failing, but she didn’t appear to be bothered what she was doing. She haphazardly chopped the meat and threw it into the pan. She seemed to have no recipe books or leaflets of any kind, and she didn’t seem to be interested in what she was making. Certainly she never checked for seasoning or taste.
The biscuits suffered a similar fate, in Charis’ opinion the mixture was far too firm, and the resulting biscuit would most likely be hard. She felt she could hardly criticize when she’d only just met Maybelle, but she wondered what the menfolk thought of her cooking.
The men arrived home ready for their supper. Obviously both Zac Ferguson and Abe had told the rest of the family what had occurred that morning.
“Miss Lovell,” Zac began as soon as he entered the room, “here are the rest of the boys, maybe you remember them from your childhood? Adam, David, Joshua and Joseph.”
“Good day to you all,” Charis returned politely. They all nodded a response.
“Now, if you are all washed up, properly, we will have supper.” With no more ado Zac Ferguson sat down at the table and awaited his meal. The others followed suite.
Maybelle had barely lifted the stew pan from the stove than the questions began.
“You are here to marry one of us?” David’s eyes were gleaming with interest.
Charis continued as she had earlier in the day. “Allegedly! I have yet to read the letter condemning me to this fate.”
Josh gave a snort of amusement, David’s eyes narrowed in displeasure, while both Adam and Abe looked sympathetic. Joe was merely gazing at her in a puzzled fashion.
“You will see it, after we have eaten. Be in no doubt, I speak the truth,” Zac stated flatly.
That was exactly what Charis feared. She was already certain there was no way out of this, unless all the men refused to consider her as a wife. How she could achieve this she didn’t know, but in her heart she knew what she dreaded the most. Being married against her will was regrettable, but to be married to David would be the ultimate disaster.
She silently passed around the rather scorched biscuits, and watched the men help themselves to the tasteless stew. All the time her mind was working, trying to think of her best way forward.
David. He was four years her senior, and, like most of the boys, had not been one bit interested in the younger girls while a school. However, in the summer months they had all been together at times. One day, that last summer she had been here, they had been outside, a group of the older children, larking in the summer sun. One of the boys had found a lizard and chased the girls, the silly girls. Someone had knocked the lizard from his hand and David had stamped on it, deliberately. That act of needless cruelty had stuck with her ever since, she could never like him. He was now man, but he would be no different. Cruelty wasn’t something you could unlearn, it was in a man’s nature.
No, if she was forced into a match with David, she would run away. In fact running away was an option she might consider whatever was
decided.
She sat quietly wishing that Benjamin was still here. She knew in her heart that he would have defended her, stood up for her, but he seemed to think he was not included in this unholy arrangement. He had been kind, he had tried his best to help her, to calm her fears. If Ben offered for her, she would accept in a heartbeat.
Supper was, in her eyes and to her poor stomach, fairly appalling. She could cook, and it looked like she would need to do so. The table manners from all of the brothers also left a good deal to be desired.
The plates were cleared and Zac Ferguson sat back with his coffee.
Charis decided to show at least a bit of back bone.
“Excuse me, Mr. Ferguson. You said you would show me the letter.”
“I will. Then you can hand over my deeds.”
“What makes you think I am silly enough to carry them with me?”
“Because you were supposed to deliver them to me.”
“No, I was never told any such thing. I am not stupid, the deeds are somewhere safe.”
Safe as in the bottom of her bag, but she wasn’t telling him that. Let him think she had left them with a bank or a solicitor or in some strong box.
“Hmmp. I expected better of your father.”
Although Charis wasn’t admitting it aloud, so had she!
“If you show me the letter, and allow me to see what was said and done, legally, then I will not argue.” Ceasing to disagree with the legalities did not mean she wouldn’t disagree with how the necessities were carried out, not when it would affect her health and wellbeing, and her eventual happiness.
Zac Ferguson moved to the desk in the corner. Here he unlocked a small wooden box and took out a letter.
“Here, this is one of three copies. I have one, your father has one, and there is one with the solicitor in Laramie.”
Charis unfolded the letter, she was already fairly certain it would be exactly as Zac Ferguson said. Why should he lie? If he had not been a law abiding man, he could have taken over the land at any time in the last ten years, and no-one would have been any the wiser.
