Desperate Lola (The Mail Order Brides of Boot Creek Book 2) (3 page)

I
did
manage to go to sleep rather easily, exhausted from having been in the saddle all day. Mr. Brittle slept across the fire on his bedroll snoring softly, while I drifted into a series of dreams, the last of which disturbed me greatly. Although I could not remember a single thing about it, I awoke with a sense of dread, fearing something terrible might happen. This was a poor way to start what should be a momentous day. I would meet my husband in only a matter of hours.

“Good mornin’, sunshine,” said Chuck, who had made a robust fire, the heat fanning out in all directions. “Coffee’s done.”

“I’ll have some in a moment.” Getting to my feet, I stretched, reaching my arms over my head and arching my back. I had pulled out the pins in my hair during the night, because they had dug into my head. Messy strands of straw colored hair hung down my back past my waist.

Mr. Brittle’s attention remained on me. He seemed thoughtful. “You sure do look pretty. Pale as ivory snow with lips like raspberries. Not a bad combination, if I do say so myself.”

“You needn’t flatter me.”

But I felt a pang of pleasure nonetheless from that artful description. Hating this reaction, I strode from the camp, determined to wash my face and fix my hair. The sooner I was presentable, the better. I dreaded the thought of having to don the corset again, but any decent woman would never be caught without one. When I returned, I sat on the bedroll and brushed my hair, while Mr. Brittle cast several inquisitive glances my way. I ignored him, working the strands into a serviceable bun at the back of my head. The bonnet would hide my handiwork soon enough.

“There’s beans and biscuits again, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine.” He handed me a plate. “Thank you.”

“We got about four hours of riding ahead of us.” He squinted into the distance. “I expect to be at the Kelly Ranch by lunchtime.”

“That’s wonderful.” Relief flooded me, because the ordeal was nearly over.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“You don’t have to marry him.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but I want to. There’s the difference.”

He scratched his chin. “If you say so.”

“I certainly don’t expect you or anyone else to agree with or understand my decisions. It’s none of your business anyhow.” He continued to stare my way, which felt unnerving. “I’ll have coffee, if there’s any left.”

“Certainly.” A charming and gregarious grin surfaced. “Have as much as you like, Miss Parsons.”

“Thank you.”

He remained polite and attentive, helping to roll my bedding and tidy the camp before kicking sand on what remained of the fire. I had gone into the bushes to don the corset, hating that it pinched my ribcage and rubbed against my skin, irritating it. The ride to the Kelly Ranch would be torturous, but I could withstand four hours in the saddle, because I had little choice in the matter.

“Here you go.” He helped me onto the stirrup, holding my arm, while smiling pleasantly. “You’re light as a feather. You probably don’t weigh ninety pounds soaking wet.”

“That’s not true at all, Mr. Brittle.”

“Chuck. Please call me Chuck.” His horse waited, bulging with saddlebags and bedrolls. “It’s your last chance to change your mind.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Cause you don’t want to marry a cold, old man, honey. There’s fire in those pretty veins of yours. I felt it when I kissed you. You need somebody who appreciates a passionate woman.”

His observations were coarse and disgusting, and I shouldn't be subjected to such talk. Passion was reserved for “ladies of ill repute”, which was one category of woman I did not belong to. “I would appreciate it if you kept your opinions to yourself for the remainder of the journey.”

“You asked.”

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

He chuckled, which rankled me further. “Very well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. In six months, when you’re desperate for the feel of warm, loving arms, you’ll seek me out.”

Closing my eyes, I cursed him silently, wishing he would shut up.
Lord, give me strength to put up with this horrid man!
“I’m ready. We’ve several hours yet to go. The sooner we’re on our way, the better.”

He tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

With any luck, Mr. Brittle would remain quiet for at least an hour, and, as the morning wore on, he did not speak again, but he did whistle for a considerable amount of time. I gazed at the landscape, admiring the vastness of the terrain, as we meandered through prairies and canyons, winding around the base of a formidable looking mountain. The sun’s rays felt relentless, although the bonnet shielded my eyes and the high-standing collar protected my neck from the elements.

We stopped for lunch, which consisted of fried cakes and an apple apiece. Chuck had said, “Sorry. We’re outta beans. Mr. Kelly will have a hearty supper waiting for you later.”

“I know. It’s fine. Thank you.”

The lack of food did not concern me, as my appetite was never all that hardy to begin with. I only wanted to continue the journey to my new home, feeling a growing sense of excitement with each mile that passed. I was eager to finally meet my fiancé, having only imagined what he would be like from his letters. I expected to find a distinguished-looking older man, who was kindly and concerned. I desperately wanted to be loved and taken care of, which was something most women hoped for.

Being free of the stresses of my family had lifted a burden from my shoulders. Living with my mother and her new husband had become intolerable, especially after I discovered Mark’s disturbing interest in me. The tipping point had been finding a small hole in the wall of my bedroom. This hid behind a painting, which also had a hole. I could not be certain how long it had been there, but Mark had been spying on me, night and day, which had left me mortified and disgusted. After this discovery, I had purchased a screen, behind which I changed, but I never felt at ease in that house, always wondering what other schemes he might employ.

“It shouldn’t be long now,” said Chuck. “We’re on the outskirts of Boot Creek.” He pointed into the distance at the vague outlines of a building. “I wasn’t planning on stopping in town. We’re going directly to the ranch.” He wiped sweat from his brow with his bandana.

“I’ll visit town another time.” I was less than presentable at the moment, heated through and through from the sun, while perspiration dripped from my neck to my belly. I longed for a bath and a change of clothes.

“All righty then. That was your last chance.”

“Last chance for what?”

“To change your mind.”

I rolled my eyes, irritated again. “I’m not having this discussion.”

“You can come away with me. I’ll take care of you. I’ve got some connections. I might look like a poor drover, but I’ve made some money over the years.”

“I’m happy to hear it.” I glanced at him, seeing his frown. My disinterest upset him. He was a man used to getting his own way, well, not this time.

“I don’t encounter that many pretty girls, not pretty like you anyway. Never in my life was I jealous of another man—until now. It just doesn’t seem fair.”

I would not be swayed by his flattery. “You shouldn’t have any trouble sweet-talking some woman in town, wherever that may be. If I weren’t already spoken for, I might consider you—maybe. But I do have my standards, Mr. Brittle. I’m accustomed to living in a certain manner, and I don’t wish to step down from that.”

His look soured. “Pretty and spoiled. Probably spoiled rotten.”

“Think what you want. I don't care.” My attention remained on the buildings that had come into view, although, from this distance, they appeared like a mirage glimmering on the horizon.

The conversation died, as he scowled. He continued to turn his head my way, while unpleasant thoughts seemed to be drifting through his mind. The lines on his face deepened because of this, and I had to wonder what troubled him so, but it should be of little consequence to me. Excitement left me anxious to see my new home. Once we began to wind our way from the pit of a canyon, a flattened expanse of prairie appeared, spotted with cattle.

“There it is.” Chuck pointed, squinting into the sun. “In all her glory. It’s the second biggest cattle ranch in the territory. The finest Black Angus beef you’ll encounter anywhere. Thousands of acres and twelve-hundred head of cattle.” He glanced at me. “I’d say you’re marrying very well.”

Something about that irritated me. “I answered an ad in the newspaper, Mr. Brittle. I wasn’t offered that many choices in who to correspond with. I had no idea Mr. Kelly was a wealthy man.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

Once I settled in at the ranch, I needed to have a word with my future husband about Mr. Brittle and his less than gentlemanly behavior. Were all the cowboys this outspoken and impertinent? What should have been a pleasant ride to my future home had left me fraught with questions and insecurity. Although excited about the prospect of meeting Mr. Kelly, I now doubted every decision I had made since agreeing to become a mail order bride.

I glanced at Mr. Brittle with suspicion. “You’ve been working for Mr. Kelly for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Years.”

“Would you consider him your friend?”

“He trusts me. I’ve always done exactly as he’s asked.”

He had not answered the question. “You’re an employee to him. Nothing more.” That statement hit it’s mark, as his jaw clenched.

“I’ve great respect for the man.”

“So much respect that you’d kiss his fiancé.”

His head snapped in my direction. “You kissed me back.”

“Hardly.” Then an ugly thought appeared. “Are you planning on blackmailing me, Chuck? Is that what this has been about?”

“I don’t know what you’re gettin’ at. I like to kiss pretty ladies, if given half the chance. I won’t mention your indiscretion to Jack, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I wanted to hit him. “It wasn’t an indiscretion, but your behavior is questionable. If you think you’re going to blackmail me into something—forget it. I’ll tell my husband everything that went on during our time together. I have nothing to hide.”

He glowered, his lower lip protruding. “Yeah? I don’t cotton to threats, lady.”

“I don’t like pompous men.”

“Pompous?”

Did he not know what that word meant? “Arrogant, full of themselves and inflated with self-importance. Those types of men don’t interest me.”

“You shouldn’t have married old Jack then,” he laughed, coughing. “You got another thing coming, honey. You married the biggest—” His look became furtive, as he realized he was about to say something he shouldn’t. “Never mind.”

“Biggest what?” Although Chuck had known Mr. Kelly for years, I got the impression they were not friends. “What?”

“Nothin’.”

“You’re jealous of him.”

A reddish color spread over his cheekbones. “Nah.”

I smiled inwardly, knowing I had pieced together the puzzle. “After today, I don’t want to see you again.” We approached a grouping of outbuildings, and several men were on horseback in a nearby paddock. Wooden fences bordered the road, as cows grazed on either side.

“We’ll see about that. I’m Mr. Kelly’s go-to guy. He needs me around. There’s always something I’m doing for him.”

That did not please me. “We’ll see.” We approached a house; its two-story façade revealed a lengthy front porch with several rocking chairs. A dog, which looked big enough to be a farm animal, sauntered towards us, his gait increasing as we neared. “Goodness. What type of dog is that?”

“That’s Otto. He’s a Saint Bernard. Friendly fellow, but he’s been known to growl up a storm with strangers.”

Alarmed by the animal’s size, I gripped the reins tighter. “Will he bite?”

“He shouldn’t, but maybe he won’t like you.”

I did not care for that response, but before I could say anything, a woman appeared on the front porch. “Mr. Brittle! You brought her. Mr. Kelly’s gone to town.” She wore a white apron over a green calico dress, her face awash with excitement.

Glancing at the dog beneath my feet, I felt reluctant to slide to the ground. The sheer size of the animal worried me, although his expression remained friendly. He gazed at me with glinting dark eyes, his tongue hanging from the side of a sizable mouth. Not wanting Mr. Brittle’s help, I sent out a silent prayer and hoped for a good outcome. If the animal should attack me, there would be little I could do to stop him. Slipping from the saddle, I wasn’t on the ground for more than a second before the dog sniffed me. Petrified, I froze, not knowing if I had placed myself in mortal danger or not.

“He’s fine, Miss Parsons,” said the woman. “He’s a walking carpet that one, but very friendly, unless you’re loud or angry.” The woman approached, holding out her hand. “I’m the housekeeper, Mrs. Myra Boles. I’m sorry about your train. Did you have a good ride in?”

I shook her hand, while the dog rubbed against my leg, nearly knocking me over. “I … yes. Oh, goodness, you’re awfully big.” I petted his head, feeling an abundance of thick fur. “What’s his name again?”

“Otto. He’s a big lug, that one.” She glanced at Mr. Brittle. “Where are her things?”

“She’s got the traveling bag, but the trunk’s on another train. I’m not sure when that’s gonna show up.”

“Thank you, Chuck. I think I can take it from here.” Compassionate eyes scanned me. “You must be tired.”

“I am, but I’d love to change into something else. These clothes are hardly appropriate for me to meet Mr. Kelly in.”

“Not to worry. We’ve lots of things for you to choose from. Your room’s all ready. I’ll put on water for a bath. You’ll be right as rain before Mr. Kelly comes home. Cook’s preparing a fine supper for you both. Everything’s in order.” She led me towards the steps. “Indeed. I’m sure you’ll find yourself quite pleased at The Kelly Ranch. We may be far from town, but all the modern conveniences that one expects in a city can be found here. We even have our own water closet.”

As Mr. Brittle guided the horses away, I cast one last look over my shoulder. He had taken that moment to stare at me as well. Something in that look sent a shiver down my spine, which left me with the impression that he was not in good spirits.