Ethan's Wild Rose Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 2) Page 4

  “No!” They all protested Fred’s statement, mumbling among themselves.

  Fred nodded. “She arrived yesterday morning on the stage.”

  Ethan edged a little closer. It wasn’t often that you heard an interesting story like this one. The usual talk in the saloon was of cattle, crops, too much rain, or drought. Sometimes a story about a stranger passing through. Anything to pass the time. But this seemed like a more remarkable sort of thing. Possibly a story that would continue on as the months went by.

  “Yep,” Fred said, obviously enjoying the rapt attention of his fellow domino players. “He put an advertisement in one of those papers back east and got three or four letters from different women.”

  “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Chip Howard? That slovenly rancher we all know?” Stumpy asked, unbelief settling on his face. “I can’t see him able to attract the attention of more than one woman. And that would be all but a miracle for him.”

  Fred laughed. “All he had to do was exchange a few letters with the woman of his choice and then send her the money to come out.

  Fred, still enjoying his audience, turned and pulled a newspaper from the table behind them. “This here’s The St. Louis Times. This is the kinda paper you want the advertisement in.” Turning the pages until he’d found what he wanted, he folded the paper in half and pointed to a page of small boxed advertisements. “See, here’s what I’m talking about.”

  The all stood and gathered round the speaker, Ethan included. He stared at the page Fred was pointing to. It would be interesting to know the gist of the words, but with very little schooling himself, it was to remain a mystery. It would take him an hour or so just to pick out the few words that he knew.

  “Exactly what do those say?” Stumpy asked, pushing Paul back a little as he crowded in closer.”

  Fred put his finger on one of the squares and began to read. “Handsome widowed rancher, 35 years. Seeks single or widowed, attractive woman. Have one small child and am willing to accept another. Must be able to cook, sew, and help with ranch chores. Only serious replies requested. Moving his finger on down the page, he pointed to the bottom third, “there’s some from women, wanting to find a husband.”

  “Well I’ll be a bull frog’s croak!” Stumpy exclaimed, his short, fat fingers combing through his long, straggly beard. “I never thought about getting a wife that way. Just think of all that romance nonsense you could skip over. Might be something to think about fellas,” he added, looking around the group of men.

  The swinging doors sounded and they all turned to see Gerald Mills enter the establishment. Waving to them, he stopped at the bar, then headed over to their discussion. They all nodded as he approached. “What’s going on over here, fellas?”

  “Fred’s telling us about Chip Howard’s new wife,” Stumpy said.

  Gerald stared for a moment, then begin to laugh, his big belly shaking like a bucket of water in a runaway buckboard. “So that’s why the man was out repairing his rail fence this morning. The thing’s been in bad shape for over three years. I didn’t figure he’d ever do anything about it.”

  Stumpy nodded “Well, women do seem to keep things neater than us men.”

  Laughter ran through the gathering. “That’s what happens once you let a woman be in charge,” Fred warned, folding the paper and tossing it to a nearby table.

  Ethan moved away from the conversation and took a seat at the table near the back wall. He sat and leaned back, letting the chair balance against the solid board wall. He took a sip of the hot liquid and frowned at the bitter taste. Probably been in the pot since dawn this morning.

  He stared at the paper on the table where Fred had tossed the item. Stumpy had a powerful point. A marriage by mail was more like a business contract than a love arrangement. It could have its benefits. No need to give your heart away. He’d done it done it once, himself, and the whole situation had turned on him. And he’d promised himself he would never do it again. But a man needed a helpmate. He was finding that out more and more every day. Maybe Chip’s story was worth thinking about.

  He stood and headed to the bar, stopping to pick up a newspaper from the table. “How much for this paper, Bailey?” he asked as he shoved the cup across the polished oak counter.

  Bailey picked up the cup and shrugged. “That one’s from last week. Just take it on with you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Ethan nodded as he stepped to the door.

  Outside, seated on the wagon, he tucked the paper up under the bag of coffee. Now, all that stood between himself and a new mail order bride was the ability to read and write a legible letter. And a conversation overheard in the mercantile had given him an idea of how that just might be accomplished.

  Chapter 5

  “Can’t you just leave?” Hallie’s words echoed against the high ceiling and board walls of the barn. “There are plenty of rats, and mice, and other creatures outside that you’d like much better.”

  The rattlesnake rattled its tail, sending a fast, tapping noise echoing throughout the lumber-clad room. Despite the heat, she shivered and watched as it seemed to pull itself into a tighter loop, making it easier to spring for its prey. And that prey was herself. Maybe her voice had agitated it even more. Tremors of fear pulsated down her back, pushing along with it a river of sweat that soaked her shirt.

  Her eyes settled on the creature once more. She had been perched on the second rung of the ladder for what seemed like an hour, or maybe more, staring down at the large reptile on the floor. The rungs, pushing into the soles of her boots, were beginning to send pains rushing through her feet.

  She estimated that the long snake was definitely in striking distance if she tried to move. Tilting her head and staring at the floor of the loft above her head, she shuddered. For all she knew, there were more up there, waiting in the hay even if she managed to climb to safety. Why hadn’t she remembered to bring her pistol? Not that she was such a good shot, but maybe she could at least convince it to move on.

  And it would have helped if she’d worn her trousers. It was silly to climb a ladder wearing a skirt. Even if she attempted to make it to the loft, her foot was likely to get caught in her petticoat. Whoever had designed women’s clothing had done it without any perilous situations in mind.

  She closed her eyes and breathed a prayer. Surely the Lord would do something soon. The snake must have better things to attend to than staying wound and ready on the floor below. The shaft of soft light coming through the doorway told her that evening was beginning to wane. Being trapped inside with the poisonous creature was not the night she had in mind for herself.

  So this was what her life had come to. With Mama and Papa gone, and Rob moved to Illinois with his new wife, the ranch was left to her. Growing up on the property, her father and brother, and a few ranch hands had tended to most of the livestock, leaving the gardening and chickens to Hallie and Mama. And now, she was expected to know how to run the entire ranch.

  The sound of a wagon moving close to the house caught her ears. Shouting would do no good, of course, but maybe, just maybe, whoever it was would be stopping by. The neighbors had all been very helpful since she’d left her job as the school teacher a year ago and become a full time rancher. Possibly one of them was coming to check on her. If it was Maggie Hatcher, there was no doubt she would be armed and take care of the snake at once.

  “Hello? Hello?” A deep voice called from outside. But it was faint. Probably near the front of the house.

  “In here!” She shouted, hoping he might hear her, despite the distance. And also hoping the snake wouldn’t take offense at her suddenly booming voice.

  She waited. Her ears strained to hear any sound outdoors. She sighed. Maybe she had just imagined hearing someone call out her name.

  “Miss Bolton?”

  “I’m in the barn,” she shouted, keeping her eye on the jittering serpent. “But be careful! There’s a rattlesnake in here.” She hoped he heard that part.
>
  A shadow blanketed the dirt floor and her neighbor, Ethan Kane, stepped inside. She hadn’t seen him since the incident at the well in mid-April. He was a handsome man, but a true loner. Why would he have thought to stop by her house? He had never seemed to want her company before.

  “Don’t move, miss.” His voice was soft and slow, as if speaking to a small child that might disobey in a moment of crisis.

  Hallie swallowed back a spark of irritation. Well, of course she wasn’t going to move. Did he think all women were sniveling, brainless creatures? No wonder the man lived alone on his ranch. Did he think she was hanging on a ladder, waiting for him to come through the doorway so she would climb down and be bitten?

  A pang of reproof jolted through her. This was the very attitude that was going to keep her an old maid. Her Aunt Sue included the warning with each monthly letter she wrote. Like she knew anything about obtaining a husband, Hallie almost snickered. Well, what if it did keep a man away? Who wanted to be married to someone that thought you were a dim being, barely capable of small thought?

  Curiosity gave way, and she watched as he picked up a rake leaning against the barn wall. “Aren‘t you going to shoot it?” No one could kill a snake with a rake. The two of them would be bitten and dead within the hour if he tried such a thing.

  His eyes never left the serpent as he approached. “I would, but I’m afraid you’re a little too close to make me comfortable firing in your direction.”

  Well, that made sense. She was close to the thing. Too close to move. And if he wasn’t a very good shot . . . he continued toward the snake, rake in one hand, pistol in the other. “I just need to get it away from you, ma’am.”

  The snake’s rattle began to sound again. Hallie’s fingers froze to the ladder. She closed her eyes, lest she begin to feel dizzy and fall, proving him right about thinking that she might move. In a split second a shot rang through the barn. She opened her eyes and gazed at the headless serpent still writhing on the floor. A shudder ran through her and she looked away.

  Ethan Kane stepped to the ladder and held up his hand. “You can come down now, ma’am.”

  Hallie took a deep breath and willed the pounding in her chest to calm. Her hands still gripped the rung so tightly that bolts of pain shot to her elbows. Gingerly, she let go and took his hand. His fingers closed around her own and he held tight as she stepped down the last two rungs.

  Hallie pulled away as her feet touched solid ground. She looked up to meet his deep blue gaze. “Thank you very much, Mr. Kane. I was afraid I might be stuck there all night.”

  He shrugged and gave a slight smile, revealing his mouth of perfectly straight teeth. “I figure he’d of gone on after a while. Course it might have been hard for you to tell much in the dark,” he said, glancing at the fading light outside the door. “I figured you were home when I saw the light already lit in your window.”

  “Yes,” she nodded, smoothing her rumpled skirt, picking off bits of hay from crawling around in the loft. “I didn’t know how long I’d be and I don’t get much afternoon sun in there.”

  He nodded and stroked his chin, letting his eyes wander to the snake. “I guess I’ll take that rattler away. Unless . . . were you wanting it?”

  “No!” Hallie gave her head a vigorous shake. Some might enjoy the taste of rattlesnake, but just the thought of touching the thing, even dead, was enough to send terror to her heart. “You . . . you’re welcome to it. And again, I thank you for rescuing me. I must have looked quite silly up there on that ladder.” He probably wasn’t looking for an explanation, but she felt inclined to give one. “I was looking for one of my kittens. I should have been carrying my pistol, but just didn’t think of it.”

  He nodded and flashed another smile to her. “This time of year you have to keep your eyes open for them. They like the coolness and shade inside of a barn on days like today. And probably that pile of lumber over there enticed him to take up residence,” he indicated one of the many stacks of various sorts that Rob had left behind when he moved.

  Well that made sense. She still had a lot to learn about ranching. She smiled up at him again. “I guess we’d best step out into the daylight, or at least what’s left of it.”

  He cleared his throat as they neared the house. “Miss Bolton, the reason I stopped by was to . . . to well . . . Mr. Stoner said you were looking for some part-time help around your ranch.”

  Surprised, Hallie turned to him “Well, yes I am. But . . . I can’t pay much, Mr. Kane. I was thinking maybe one of the boys from town would like to make some extra money.”

  As if suddenly remembering his manners, he snatched the felt hat from his head. “Well, ma’am, I was thinking maybe more of a trade.”

  Hallie stared. Did he want her to cook for him? Sew shirts? Not trousers, she hoped. She wasn’t very talented at sewing, so it was doubtful she could help out there. “Exactly what did you have in mind, sir?”

  He glanced back at the barn. “Just let me get that snake out of there and I’ll explain.”

  Chapter 6

  Hallie poured Ethan his third cup of coffee, as he finished his second plate of fried chicken, potatoes, cornbread, and beans.

  “There’s pie as soon as you’re finished with all of that,” she smiled, pouring more of the brew into her own cup.

  Ethan wiped his mouth with the red-checkered cloth napkin. Pie. That would give him more time to think of how to explain to her what he wanted. Staying for supper hadn’t been in his plans, at all, but she had insisted. It had been some effort, but he had managed to bring up a few ranching topics throughout the meal that had kept the conversation steady between them. The poor woman must be wondering why he had stopped by. He didn’t think they’d spoke more than seven or eight hellos to each other during the five years he’d lived on his ranch, saving for the incident last month. If it hadn’t been for little Roger Hanes falling down that well, he might not even know her name.

  “I hope you like buttermilk pie,” she said, bringing the tin plate to the table and cutting a generous slice for his plate.

  He grinned. “My favorite. And it’s been a long while since I’ve had a piece of it.”

  “In that case, you can take what’s leftover home with you,” she insisted. “If not for you stopping by, I’d still be standing on that ladder out in the barn.”

  He laughed as he forked into the golden slice on his plate. “I reckon by now that snake would have found better things to do.” And this time tomorrow night, he would be spending a little bit of time with that snake, himself.

  “So, Mr. Kane, exactly why did you stop by my ranch this evening? And you mentioned maybe a trade?”

  The delicious taste in his mouth seemed to fade. Why was it so hard for him to talk about this subject? Well, no matter, it had to be done.

  He swallowed the sweetness in his mouth and cleared his throat. “Well, like I mentioned earlier, when I was in the mercantile this afternoon, Wally Stoner mentioned that you were looking for a part-time worker out here on your ranch.”

  Her lips formed into a slight frown. “Are you saying that you’re really interested in coming to work for me?

  He could hear the disbelief in her voice. She was hardly looking for a man that might qualify as a ranch foreman. She wanted someone to do the harder chores around the place. “Yes, ma’am. I am. But not so much for the money. I, uh, uh. . .” He could see the confusion on her face. He’d better hurry up and spit out what he wanted before she got the wrong idea.

  He cleared his throat again. “What I mean to say is, I’d like to do the work for you in exchange for you teaching me to read and write. You being a school teacher, and all.” His eyes found his plate, and at once he forced himself to look at her. He had always felt shame in his inability to read well, but it was time to lay those feelings aside.

  ***

  A flow of relief washed through her. Reading and writing. Yes. She could teach him. She wiped her hands on her napkin and smiled. “I’d
be happy to teach you, Mr. Kane. Are you sure that you don’t want money as a compensation for your work, too?” It was a privilege, more than a job, to teach a person to read and write. It was hard to imagine how some got along without those two skills.

  His cheeks glowed in the lamplight and he fidgeted with his fork, before putting it on his plate. “Oh, no, ma’am. This trade-off would be more than fair. In fact, it might be completely in my favor.”

  Hallie weighed his words. She would only spend a few hours a week coaching him to put the letters together. He would be spending long hours working out in the hot weather, once summer was here. “Well, maybe we can work something else out for you. Perhaps I could make a meal for you on the days you work?” The moment the words were out, the thought of how forward the offer might sound to him struck. She felt warmth begin to glow in her cheeks and she busied herself with stacking the plates together and carrying to the counter.

  “I reckon that would be OK,” he agreed, nodding his head. “I’m not much of a cook, myself, so I sure do appreciate a good meal.”

  “Fine, then,” Hallie breathed, still focusing on the plates, scraping the few scraps into a large bowl. Apparently, he hadn’t taken her offer to mean anything different than what she had intended.

  She turned as he stood. “I think we’ve reached a fine agreement, Mr. Kane. When would you like to start?”

  He hesitated. “Would tomorrow be too soon? I noticed you needed some repairs done to your barn wall. And I could move away that stack of lumber for you, too. Might help some with your snake problem.”

  “That would be a good place to start,” she smiled. He must need to learn to read and write in a hurry. For the first time since their conversation began, she wondered why a grown man, already successful in his ranching, had suddenly decided it was important to know how to read when things were already going well for him.