Ethan's Wild Rose Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 2) Read online

  “Y. . . yes,” a whisper of a reply came from her lips.

  Hallie sat back on her knees. Lettie Forge? But why was she–

  A loud noise broke through the quiet of the camp. Shouting outside the shelter caught her ears and she was up at once.

  Pushing back the blanket from the entrance see could see Ethan, off his horse and rifle pointing at the Indian man.

  “Where is she, old man? You’d better not have. . .” his voice drifted away as he caught sight of her. The relief on his face sent Hallie’s emotions reeling. For a brief moment she realized that he really did care about her, then common sense prevailed. This was a man resorting to advertisements to find a woman to love. Hallie was nothing more than his reading teacher. Without her help, he might never find that perfect wife.

  “Ethan! What are you doing here? Put that rifle down, right now!” She spoke in her most stern schoolteacher voice. All she needed was for him to lose his temper and shoot Lettie’s husband.

  His eyes widened and he lowered the gun. “Are you all right? Has he hurt you?”

  She shook her head and almost smiled at the relief on his face, the wave of panic in his voice. “I’m fine. His wife is very ill. I think that she is dying. I’ve cleaned her up and was just getting ready to try and feed something to her.”

  He stalked toward her, a flash of anger replacing the relief on his face. “Exactly what are you doing out here? I told you-”

  She brushed away his anger. “After hearing all those people at the meeting last night, I came to warn them. Ask them to leave before trouble started. But his wife is too ill. I don’t think she will live much longer.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I told you last week not to come out here looking for them,” he snapped. “It took me almost two hours to track you up here. I was worried that something had happened to you.”

  “You tracked me? But why?” Hallie’s irritation at his behavior quickly kindled a small flame of anger in her gut. If she had wanted his help, better yet, his approval of what she was doing, she would have asked. Her voice rose to meet her irritation. “You are not in charge of me, Ethan Kane. I can make decisions on my own.”

  “Well it seems your judgment is lacking,” he snapped, fire blazing in his dark blue eyes. “For all you knew, this man could have killed you for walking into their camp.”

  Hallie sighed. It did no good to argue with a man that had a head as hard as a rock. It was best to try and appease his mood without a lot of explanations. “That may be so. But as you can see, that didn’t happen. In fact, he found me and asked me to help.”

  Ethan turned and looked at the man. “He speaks English?”

  She shook her head. “No. But he motioned me to follow him and brought me here. He wants me to take care of his wife.” She hesitated. “Ethan, I’m pretty sure that his wife is Lettie Forge. The girl that disappeared back in 1850.”

  His head snapped back to her, disbelief on his face. “What? Why would you think that?”

  “She’s a white woman with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. She tried to speak her name to me. It sounded like she was saying ‘Lettie’. She’s. . .she is very ill. I don’t see how she will last more than a few days. I don’t think she is able to travel. I wonder if we should try to get a doctor. Or maybe Maggie Hatcher? She has a little bit of medical experience. And I’m sure she would be willing to come out here and help.”

  Ethan stepped around her and entered the hut. Hallie held the blanket back so the husband could see that Ethan was just checking. He stepped back out, his eyes on her face. “I don’t think there is much use in getting a doctor. She’s barely breathing, as it is.”

  Hallie rushed past him. Only a few moments ago the woman’s beautiful eyes were open and she was speaking. How could her condition change so fast? She was on her knees at once, her fingers brushing the thin hair. Ethan was right. This woman was breathing her last.

  She turned and motioned for Lettie’s husband to come in, but he refused, turning his head away. She looked at Ethan and he shrugged. “Some tribes have, what seems to us, peculiar notions about death. Maybe he doesn’t want to be present.”

  Hallie watched as the older man shouldered his rifle and began walking down the path that the two of them had taken to the shelter. She looked at Ethan and he nodded, turned and followed.

  She returned to the makeshift bedside of Lettie Forge and draped another cloth of cool water over the thin forehead. She swallowed back the choking sob that rose in her throat. There was no use to cry. God had always known this moment would come to be. He knew that Hallie would sit and hold the hand of the dying Lettie Forge. Her heart ached that she couldn’t have known Lettie when she was healthy and able to share her story.

  What would Mama say, knowing that Hallie had actually met Lettie? A weak smile crossed her lips. Mama would say that she was right, that Hallie had not seen Lettie’s ghost walking in the fog. That it was all a little girl’s imagination. That God had been taking care of Lettie all along.

  A soft moan sounded from the woman’s mouth and her striking blue eyes opened. She rested her gaze on Hallie and smiled. Her voice was barely a whisper. “I. . .home.”

  Hallie nodded. “Yes, you’re back at your family’s ranch.”

  “I . . .” she gasped, then continued, “wanted. . .with my family. He. . .good to me. Love me,” her eyes closed for a moment, then she opened them again. “Who. . .are you?”

  Hallie smoothed back a wandering strand of Lettie’s hair. “I’m Hallie Bolton. I live on the ranch, now.”

  “You. . .you. . .” Lettie closed her eyes.

  Hallie watched, but the woman’s chest did not rise again. Lettie Forge was gone.

  ***

  Hallie stared into the deep hole that Ethan and the man had dug. They had made the grave next to Mrs. Forge. The older man kept patting the long-dead woman’s grave and nodding, muttering sounds she couldn’t understand, as if talking to himself.

  She was surprised when he looked at her and spoke a word in English. “Mother,” he said, patting the grave. “Lettie mother.”

  She looked up and her eyes met Ethan’s. He nodded and looked away, but she was sure his eyes were glossy with emotion.

  Hallie watched as Ethan cupped his hand under the older man’s elbow and pulled him to his feet. The man’s arthritic bones cracked and popped in the quiet of the woods. His expression was sad. Had this man been one of the raiding party that had taken Lettie that terrible day so long ago? Had he been one that had helped to kill her family? And had Lettie known that all of the years that she had lived with him?

  Hallie sighed. It was a part of the story that she would never know. But it had ended with Lettie back home with her family, thanks to this man who had cared for her. And now, she and Ethan had been called upon to help with Lettie’s request, too.

  Ethan’s eyes found hers. “I’ll go get her. You can wait here with him.” He started to turn and the man followed. Ethan motioned for him to stay, but it was no use. He would go with him.

  Ethan walked to Hallie. “You sit down and rest. I’m going to get you home as soon as I can. You look pretty tired.” He lowered his voice. “If I was your brother I’d tan your hide for coming out here like this on your own. We’ll talk about it later,” he finished, as he turned away.

  Hallie found a large stone and sat on the hard surface, ignoring the irregular crevices that made it uncomfortable. If I was your brother. That phrase kept running through her mind. He thought of her as a sister. Somehow, that knowledge was more painful than thinking he just considered her a spinster neighbor.

  She brushed away a stray tear and yawned. Ethan was right, she was tired to the bone. All night cooking and packing food had left no time for rest.

  But it was mostly this morning that had worn into her soul. Sitting with Lettie, watching her die, had taken more out of her than she realized. Tonight, there would be no late-night light in her window.

  ***

  “I think
it looks good,” Ethan nodded to the old brave.

  The man stared at the heaped hill of dirt, then looked at Ethan. He leaned down and picked up his rifle. A brief glance at Hallie, and he began to walk away.

  “Doesn’t he want us to say something?” Hallie stared after him.

  Ethan shrugged. “I don’t figure their tribe is much on Christian traditions.”

  Hallie turned to him. “What about you. Will you say something?”

  Ethan stared down at the grave for a moment, then removed his hat. He closed his eyes. “Dear Heavenly Father, we commit this woman into your keeping. We don’t know much about her, Lord, but You do. We. . .we thank you for being able to help in her time of need.”

  Hallie swallowed and looked at him, but his eyes were on the grave. “How about we come back later and make a marker for her,” she suggested.

  He shrugged. “Sure. Now, let’s get you home.”

  ***

  Despite the sadness left behind them, Ethan smiled and tightened his arms around Hallie. He was surprised, as well as pleased, that she had agreed to ride with him. They had ridden less than a quarter of a mile, before she was fast asleep, her soft form leaning against his chest. He dared to rest his cheek lightly on her sun-warmed hair. She always smelled so fresh and sweet. He closed his eyes for a moment. If only a woman like her could love someone like him. He might risk his heart if it was possible.

  She had no way of knowing the panic in his heart when he had searched for her earlier today. If that Indian had harmed her, he would have torn the man into a dozen pieces. Finding Satin in the man’s camp had almost sent his finger to the trigger with no questions asked.

  When Hallie’s head had poked out that shelter opening, it had been all he could do not to drop his rifle and run to her, grab her up and hug her. Before he gave her a good talking to. And that talk was something he still might do.

  Chapter 18

  Hallie watched out the window as the two boys leaned a ladder against the largest tree and the older brother began to climb. She had agreed that they could have half of her peach crop, with no pay for picking all of it. The trees were loaded and there would be plenty for more pies and jam, as well as bushels to dry for the rest of the year.

  She had been wondering how she was going to pick all of the fruit herself, when Ethan had suggested that Mrs. Hanes’s boys would probably come and do it for her. It was such a good thing for the Hanes family, too she smiled. Little Roger was on the mend, but his brothers had to work extra hard to make up for his lack of help around their run-down little place.

  What would she do when she didn’t have Ethan looking out for her interests? The thought that he would soon be married made her sad. I don’t understand, Lord. I’m here. I would make a good wife for him. And I would love him.

  But Ethan must follow his heart. He wasn’t a man that would be swayed by others. And that was one of the things she admired most about him. He thought for himself, didn’t follow the crowd.

  Within the hour, there was a knock on her back door. She opened it to find Marky Hanes with a bushel basket of beautiful yellow and red fruit. “This is the first batch, ma’am,” he grinned, peach juice staining his chin.

  Hallie held back a chuckle as she took it from him. “Why, thank you so much. I’ll get busy with them, right now. And you boys remember to come back here at noon and I’ll make some sandwiches for you,” she promised. If she couldn’t feed children of her own, she could at least enjoy making lunch for the youngsters that worked for her.

  She breathed in their sweet aroma, as she carried the peaches to the table. She gently dumped the fruit onto the surface and returned the basked to the back steps. They had several of the containers out there, but they would need more of them.

  She poured water into a large dishpan and began to wash the fruit, setting the clean, velvety orbs on the cotton towels she had spread across the table and counter. Her mind drifted to the last peach pie she had made. It had been for Lettie and her husband, though neither had tasted it. Lettie had died and the man had drifted away with nothing but the cornbread she had made. She hoped he had made it back to his people safely.

  The sharp end of the knife pierced the peach and a spurt of juice hit her in the face. She laughed and licked the sweet nectar from her lips, reaching for a cloth to take care of the rest. A knock sounded at the door and she opened it to find Marky with another basket of fruit.

  “Oh my goodness, you boys are fast,” she smiled. “Come on inside and we’ll dump these on the table and you can take it back with you. Be careful on those steps,” she instructed as he left.

  She sighed and stared at the table full of peaches. It would be nice if one of the Hanes sisters might have come and helped, but the two middle girls were helping their mother to clean house out at the McBride ranch, and the oldest was left in charge of the house and toddler. Oh well, nothing to do but get the job done.

  She stabbed another peach and began the tedious task of peeling. Once this one was done, there was probably only a few hundred to go.

  ***

  “Best peach pie I’ve ever had,” Ethan grinned and patted his flat belly.

  Hallie beamed and took his plate. He was going to miss her pies when he was married to someone else. She would offer another piece, but he’d already had three. It wouldn’t do for her cooking to make him sick. “Are you ready for more reading tonight?” She asked, as she plunged their supper plates into a dish tub of hot water and soap. The heat felt good on her sore hands and she paused a moment to let them soak. Peeling peaches exercised her finger muscles a little too much.

  “Sure,” he smiled, his white teeth flashing in the light of the newly lit lamp. “Just let me get the new paper out of the wagon.”

  She sighed and watched him leave. That wasn’t exactly the kind of reading that she’d had in mind. She could insist that they keep practicing in the reader he had started with, but it was plain he was ready to move on to more important things. Like the real reason he had wanted to polish his reading ability in the first place. And no matter how many delays she could invent, it wouldn’t change the ending. Ethan was going to send for a bride.

  Whatever was going to happen, it would be best to meet it with a good attitude. So, she greeted him with her best smile when he returned, paper in hand. Nothing would be more embarrassing than for him to realize her true feelings, when he had no notion of retuning them. To him, she was the little sister he never had. It was a pure stab in the heart to her, but he seemed pleased with the idea.

  “I’ve been going over some of these,” he said, pulling out his chair and taking a seat. “I circled a few to see what you thought.”

  She gave a reluctant swipe with the towel to the last washed dish and then made her way over to the table. Might as well get over what she was dreading. And, to look on the bright side, it wasn’t like he was going to be writing that letter tonight. At least, she hoped not.

  Scooting a chair next to him, she put on her spectacles and pulled the lamp to just in front of them. She stared at the paper he had spread across the table, giving her eyes time to adjust. She blinked and stared some more. No doubt, newspapers wanted to fill every inch with valuable information, but they needed to remember that not everyone had perfect eyesight. Some words were so small it was hard to make out, even with her thick reading lenses.

  She straightened her back and turned to him. “Which ones were you thinking about?”

  Ethan leaned in close to her, his soft blond hair brushing against her cheek as he lowered his head over the paper. Sharp tingles touched her cheek and ran down her face. Her breath caught in her throat as the scent of soap and horses met her nose. She moved her face an inch or so away. He took her hand in his and moved her fingers to one of the advertisements.

  “What do you think about this one?”

  Hallie stared at his hand on hers, his fingers gently caressing her own as he waited for an answer. She loved those long, strong fingers, tanned fr
om his work in the mid-day sun. If only they were holding her own in love instead of guidance to another woman.

  She swallowed hard and shook her head. “Well, let’s see what it says. Strong, able to work long hours. Good housekeeper, cook, seamstress, and good with animals.” She re-read it silently to herself.

  “Well?”

  “She sounds. . . .efficient and. . .”

  He grinned and nodded. “She does, doesn’t she? I thought that, too. She would be good around the place.”

  Was he looking for a wife or a work horse? His manner seemed so detached. “But, Ethan. . . I mean. . .well, let’s read some others.” If he was really going to send for a wife, then at least he should get one that made him happy. It hurt to think she might have to be the one to push in that direction, but then again, she had agreed to help him.

  “I guess.” This disappointment in his voice hung in the air.

  “Look, look at this one. Strong, good worker, adores children, looking for love and companionship. Someone like her seems more. . . .more. . .”

  He pulled away from her and shook his head. “No. She’s not what I’m looking for. There’s at least one more that I marked. Find it.”

  She stared at his face, alarmed at the set of his jaw and the brusque sound of his voice. All she’d done was read another woman’s advertisement. She bit her lip. “Well, let’s look at some of the others that you’ve underlined.”

  “Read this one,” he insisted, his finger finding one marked with a grease marker.

  “Tall, hard worker, willing to live in dug-out or on open prairie. Good cook and housekeeper. Good with animals. Can come at once.” She sounded even worse than the first one. Pulling her eyes from the paper, she looked up at him. “Don’t you think it sounds sort of . . .desperate? Like she might be running away from something?”