Surely Clinton would be easy to spot now that the throng had disbursed. When she got all the way to the far side of the group and didn’t find him, her heart started pounding even faster. Where could he be? Surely he was looking for her, too? Why hadn’t he come up behind her and picked her up and swung her around the way she’d seen Rafe do with Lydia? Beautiful new dress or not, it was clear Rafe had missed her. Seeing all the joyful reunions only made her more anxious to find Clinton.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she passed through the group one more time, peering in every direction, listening for the familiar timbre of his voice.
Nothing.
Oh mercy! Where could he be? Her mind flashed back to the story of Shirley Ryan. Had her fella run off on her, too?
No, of course not. Clinton was true blue, as was his love for her. Maybe he was helping with the horses or something.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. It wouldn’t do any good for Clinton to find her in a state of panic.
A tap on her shoulder sent her pulse soaring. Joyfully she turned, arms wide, waiting for his embrace.
She froze in place, arms dropped to her sides. “Oh, Mr. Connor,” she said, peering up into the face of Clinton’s employer. “I-I thought you were someone else.”
Why was Mr. Connor seeking her out? Fear prickled along her skin. Had something happened to Clinton? Cold terror ran through her, but she forced herself to speak rationally. No reason to make the richest man in the county think she was an idiot. “Wh-what can I do for you, sir?”
HIs face was solemn, and tears stung at the corners of her eyes. He took his hat off and held it over his chest, and she nearly fainted. “It’s about Clinton,” he said, his voice deep and rich, though it made her blood run cold. “He didn’t come back with us.”
“Wh-wha?” She couldn’t even get a full word out. Her knees slammed together, and her hand quaked. As she stared up at Mr Connor, all she could think about was that time years ago when the trail leader had come to tell her both her parents had died. He had the same pitiful expression on his face as he gripped his hat in his hands and told her the bad news.
Had something actually happened to Clinton? How could that be possible? He was so strong and healthy and young. He was only nineteen years old.
“Did you at least give him a decent burial?” she asked, barely able to get the words out, glancing around at the festivities happening and wanting to scream at everyone who was having a good time while her world was falling apart. How dare they laugh and dance when her Clinton was gone? Fearing she might faint, she reached out and grabbed Mr. Connor’s arm to steady herself.
“Oh,” Mr. Connor said with a chuckle. She stared up at him, slack-jawed at such a rude response to her question.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Josie,” Mr. Connor said. “This ain’t no laughing matter. I guess I should have done a better job of explaining myself. Clinton is alive and well, just simply hired on to another drive while we were in the city, and he won’t be back for a few more weeks.”
Josie took a step back, not sure whether to jump for joy at knowing Clinton was alive and well or to punch something at the realization it would be weeks before he came home. He sure had nerve. And to make matters worse, the story about Miss Ryan and her runaway fiancé leapt to the forefront of her brain.
“What are you talking about?” Josie asked. “Why would he hire on to another drive instead of coming back here? Back to m-me?”
“We met up with another rancher in Monroe City, and he was desperate for some hands. He was offering top dollar, too. A few of the other fellows considered it, but Clinton was the only one who took him up on the offer. I understand he’s hoping to buy a house in town, and I know you two are getting married soon. I think he just wanted to make as much money as he could so you’d have a nice nest egg. ’Course, it’s none of my business, and I shouldn’t be speculating, but I know he wants to get back to you as soon as he can.”
Mr. Connor reached inside his jacket, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to her. “Clinton asked me to give this to you. I’m sure he’ll explain everything better than I’ve done. Now, don’t you worry none. Clinton’s the best cowboy I know and an outstanding horseman. He’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’ll be back here before you know it, full of sass and vinegar just like always.”
He put his hat back on and touched the brim. “I truly do apologize, Miss Josie, for the poor way I conveyed this information. I’m sure I gave you quite a fright, and, for that, I am sincerely sorry. I want you to take a few minutes to read over Clinton’s letter and then come on back to the party. I’m sure Clinton wouldn’t mind if I had one dance with his intended while he’s away.”
Dazed, Josie just nodded as Mr. Connor returned to the party. With trembling fingers, she opened the letter from Clinton.
My dearest Josie,
If you are reading this, then that means Mr. Connor has let you know I have signed on for an additional drive. Mr. Gibson, the rancher whose cattle need to be taken to the market, is a real decent man who has a large spread, and he’s promised me a more-than -decent wage for my efforts.
I’m real sorry because I know you are as eager to see me as I am to see you. I missed you so much while I was out on the trail, and I know that missing is going to continue for a few more weeks. But I promise when I get back we’ll have a nice little nest egg for that house and so we can start a family.
Now, you behave yourself while I’m gone. We’ll both stay busy so the time will pass as quickly as possible. Don’t you worry, Josie, I’m going to marry you just like I promised. Don’t you ever forget it.
All my love,
Clinton
She read the whole letter one more time and then for a third time before folding it up and putting it back in the envelope and heading for home. Her heart was heavy, and though she could see everybody else dancing and enjoying themselves, celebrating the successful return of the men from the cattle drive, Josie just couldn’t do it. From a distance, she watched for a moment as all the young couples enjoyed being together once again.
She stomped her foot, angry tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. She didn’t care about a stupid house or a nest egg. She wanted Clinton to come home, and she wanted him to be there now. She imagined her friends Millie and Lydia as well as Travis and Rafe dancing and laughing. Enjoying themselves flirting and planning their future. All she had to go home to was an empty room and a half-sewed wedding dress. She trudged toward town, dragging her feet, shoulders hunched, lost in misery. She just needed time alone to cry the tears and feel sorry for herself. After missing Clinton so much, she’d gotten herself worked into such a state expecting him home, and, now, the deep disappointment was almost too much for her. She ought to be grateful he was such a hard worker and wanted to do so much in order to secure their future. But, in that moment, all she wanted was to feel his strong arms around her.
Without thinking, she continued toward town and somehow managed to find herself standing in front of the house she and Clinton wanted to buy. In the moonlight, it was even more charming than in daylight, at least as far as she was concerned. It wasn’t the grandest house in town, but she could see herself very happy and content there as long as she was with Clinton. And maybe one day little babies to make their family complete.
All of that was well and good, but when Josie got home, she threw herself across her bed and had a good cry. A feet-kicking, pillow-punching bawl. Fortunately, the rest of the household was at the big party, and there was no one around to see or hear her lose her composure.
In Juniper Junction, in fact in all the West, women were expected to be strong and capable. Life was hard and required a strong constitution. There wasn’t time or energy to spare for pity parties, as Aunt Joyce had made clear to Josie and Millie numerous times over the years. And, generally speaking, Josie agreed. She’d sure had her share of hardship, and she’d worked hard to do her part for her new family.
But dammit. She wanted her man.
Chapter 6
Three Months Until Christmas
The general store was the busiest Josie had ever seen it. Aunt Joyce and Uncle Carl rushed from customer to customer, as did Millie. Josie helped when she could, but once the women of Juniper Junction saw the dresses she’d made for Lydia and Millie, everyone wanted one of her creations.
It was all happy news since the men had returned from the cattle drive...all but Clinton, she reminded herself, doing her best not to allow the seed of sadness and bitterness to take root too deeply. Anyway, the men had brought much needed cash to Juniper Junction. In addition, absence had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and, in the time since the party at Windy River Ranch, there had been a boom in proposals.
Usually a girl wore her best dress on her wedding day. People in the West were practical, and the idea of having a fancy gown for a wedding and then never wearing it again was the height of extravagance. Josie was making herself a new dress, a labor of love, or so she hoped, using her needle skills to make a special dress in white, no less. The most recent fashion magazines to arrive in Juniper Junction had announced the advent of white wedding dresses as the latest trend. Apparently, this trend had begun in England with Queen Victoria and had finally worked its way across the Atlantic to America and then all the way across the barren continent to Juniper Junction, Wyoming.
Even with all that, Josie had every intention of dying her dress a more practical blue once it had served its purpose on her wedding day.
She glanced up at the calendar. Surely Clinton would return soon. Or at least send a letter.
Seated in a corner of the store, close to the fabric and sewing notions, Josie got back to work, her fingers deft with the needle as she added tucks to the sleeves of a dress. Aunt Joyce bustled by. Though all the members of the family dropped into bed each night exhausted, spirits were high. With the influx of money and engagements, business at the general store had never been better.
Adding to their happiness—Travis had finally popped the question, and he and Millie were betrothed. Millie practically floated through the store, her joy apparent to all.
Yes, everything was perfect. Or would be, if only Clinton were there. She fought against sadness more and more with each passing day. Why hadn’t she heard from him? She knew he was out on the plains herding cows and might not have time to write letters or, even if he did, it was not like he was going to be passing a post office on a regular basis. Yes, she knew all of that in her head, but in her heart, she fought against the inklings of worry and doubt that crept in, particularly late at night.
She was glad the store was busy. For one thing, it was of benefit to the aunt and uncle who had taken her in so generously and provided for her without even a hint of complaint or concern about the added burden of another mouth to feed or a body to clothe. But, right now, she was particularly grateful for the store’s increased business—as well as her dressmaking—because she tended to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Her dreams weren’t always pleasant, and she’d woken more than once during the middle of the night after a nightmare about Clinton being injured on the trail...or worse. She’d bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding and her palms sweating and then have to try to get back to sleep without disturbing Millie. It wasn’t always easy, but fatigue helped.
Another dream kept happening. One she didn’t dare mention to anyone else, but she’d had the same dream at least three different times. In this dream, she was in the church which had been decorated for a wedding with flowers and paper streamers, and she was wearing her beautiful wedding dress. The pastor and all their friends and neighbors were there.
But no Clinton. The clock ticked as loudly as a cannon going off as the seconds and minutes went by, but still no Clinton.
Sometimes images from that dream flitted through her mind during the day, too.
She was a horrible, selfish girl to only worry about her own humiliation if she was stood up at the altar rather than being concerned about Clinton and his safety.
She refocused on the dress she was making and forced herself to think pleasant thoughts. This dress was to be for Annemarie who was planning to get married on Christmas Day. Josie fluffed the fabric out and admired it. This dress would certainly be noticed—bright red with white trim—about as Christmassy as you could get. She wondered if Annemarie planned to remake the dress or if she’d just keep it to wear every Christmas. Oh my.
She’d been paid cash up front for her work, so she kept her thoughts to herself and continued stitching. In her mind, she did a quick recap of the dresses she’d promised to make before Christmas. Her fingers ached just thinking about it, but she reminded herself of all the money she’d have saved up for her new life with Clinton. Though Aunt Joyce and Uncle Carl had been very generous to her, Josie had no dowry to speak of, just the items in her hope chest, a few coins she’d saved, and a heart full of love. Clinton knew the situation and he didn’t care one dang bit about any of that, he just wanted her. Much as she’d been flattered by his words, she knew they wouldn’t put food on the table.
Josie was fortunate because even after she married, she planned to continue working at the general store and build up her reputation as a seamstress and dress designer, too. Clinton was proud of her, and he always admired whatever garment she was working on when she showed him, even though she knew he had no idea of the difference between a flounce and sash.
Oh, how she missed him. Fighting back a sniffle, she put the finishing touches on her sewing for the day.
Clinton
Clinton Ramsey huddled close to the fire, pulled his coat tight around himself, and wished he’d brought along more substantial clothes. When he’d left Juniper Junction all those weeks, and, now, months, ago, he hadn’t expected to extend the length of his trip by two months, which was fast turning into three.
He touched the cloth around his neck, Josie’s bandana. He’d worn it every day and night until it was nearly threadbare. Life on the range wasn’t easy on man, beast, or clothing.
The others were asleep, so he took out his last bit of writing paper, sharpened a nub of a pencil with his knife and started another letter to Josie.
My dear Josie,
I hope this letter finds you well, safe, and warm. It’s November now, and it’s getting cold, but at least Uncle Carl has probably allowed you and Millie to have a fire in your bedroom. I can appreciate his desire to be thrifty, but, rest assured, once we are married, you’ll never be cold again. Or at least not in the bedroom.
He paused for a moment and wondered if that last statement was a bit too racy to include, but since he doubted Josie would ever see this letter...just like all the others he’d written, he left it in. The thought of her, as his wife, snuggled next to his body in their bed in the little house on Main Street was about the only thing that kept him going most days.
He ought to have gone back to Juniper Junction with the others as planned, but when Mr. Gibson had offered double wages plus a bonus for anyone who signed on for his drive, Clinton couldn’t say no. Travis and others had tried to talk him out of it, but Clinton was determined. The same determination that made him the best calf roper for miles around made him decide to go on a second drive. With the money he’d earn, he’d be able to buy that house from Mr. Kent and still have money to set aside for the future. His future with Josie.
It did his heart good to think about owning a piece of land. Even a town lot instead of a big spread was something to be proud of. His family had lost everything when he was a child. That was in Minnesota. Storms and insects had killed their crops and hadn’t been too kind to the livestock either. His pa had been renting the property, planning to use the profits from the crop to pay the rent for the year, but when the crop failed and their little bit of savings was gone, that was the end for them.
Mr. Scroggins, who owned the land, had been as generous as he could have been, but finally one day he had come with th
e sheriff to serve a notice telling them they had to be off the property. All these years later, Clinton’s chest still tightened up, remembering his ma staring at the notice to leave the premises, tears streaming down her face.
Clinton had wanted to cheer her up, make her happy and help her forget their troubles, but these troubles were way too big for him to fix.
They’d left soon thereafter, all their belongings, such as they were, on their wagon, and headed west.
As the only home he’d ever known grew smaller and smaller in the distance, Clinton decided then and there he’d always make sure he had a roof over his head, and his family would never have to live in fear the way he had.
Looking back, he supposed maybe it was for the best, otherwise he wouldn’t have ended up in Juniper Junction where he’d met Josie. Sweet, beautiful Josie. She’d had a rough bringing up, too, which was another reason why he wanted to own that house.
He went back to his letter.
I’m sorry I didn’t come back with the others. I’m sure you’ve already heard from Travis and Rafe about the adventures we had. I guess I was having such a good time, I decided to go on another drive. Except this one isn’t the same at all. It’s hard when you don’t know who you’re riding with, whether you can trust them. Out here, it’s good to have a loyal friend.
Now, don’t you worry none. It’s not as though I’ve run in with a bad crowd or anything, but between working with strangers and the changes in the weather, this ride is about a complete opposite from the other.
He paused to stir the fire and toss on another log. The night temperature continued to drop. He stretched his legs out to warm his feet.
Newlywed Christmas (Brides of Juniper Junction Book 4) Page 14
