Romance: Luther's Property (14 page)

“I know which sister I would pick.” Mathew declared after
reading the two letters.

Christopher looked at his friend and wondered how they had
gotten along for all those years. When Christopher bought his ranch, he found
Mathew, a neighboring rancher already there. Over the years his friend had
helped him out and shown him the ropes. He had steered him to the best markets
for his beef cattle and showed him how to ensure that the cows had pasture
throughout the year.

“I need to think about this.” Christopher said.

They sat at the kitchen table of his house drinking lukewarm
tea.

“You do need a wife, this is horrible tasting.” Mathew
complained, eyeing the tea distastefully.

“What about yourself, the years are going man, don’t you
want a wife?” Christopher said, looking at his friend across the table.

They were as different as two men could be. Women threw
themselves all over Mathew. He had blond hair that fell to his eyes and a
carefree attitude that attracted women. Not that there were many women in
Montana, Christopher thought. Good, unattached ladies were impossible to get,
hence his daring decision to advertise for a bride in New Hampshire.

“I don’t mind if one falls in my laps, like this one.”
Mathew laughed, holding the photograph. “But I won’t go your way and advertise
for a wife. Who knows what you could end up with?” Mathew said. “I like to make
my choices in person.”

Christopher folded the two letters and returned them to
their envelopes. He had a lot to think about.

“How is the stock coming up?” Christopher said, changing the
topic.

In the next ten minutes or so, the two men discussed their
cattle due for sale in the next couple of months and exchanged news of the beef
market. Mathew stood up to leave shortly after. Christopher opened the back
kitchen door to show him out. He liked the view from the back door. Small
buildings were dotted all over. One was a huge barn, where the dairy cows spent
the night, there was a chicken coop and nearest to the kitchen, a smoke house.

Beyond that, you could see the green land stretched out for
miles, and divided into several pastures. On one, Christopher could make out
his longhorns, grazing contentedly and two ranch hands on horseback.

“They look almost ready.” Mathew said, shielding his eyes
from the sun with his hand.

“Yes, just a few more weeks to go and I’ll be happy.”
Christopher said.

“We’ve had good years.” Mathew added.

Christopher nodded. The last few years had been very good
for most ranches in Montana with the prices of beef rising each year. Last
year, he had made a sizeable profit and he expected a larger one this year. He
was looking to add to his stock of two thousand and increase it to almost
double. The only thing missing was a wife.

Every evening after work, Christopher felt the loneliness of
living as a bachelor. He longed for noises in the house and a warm fire when he
got home. He hoped that his future wife would be willing to have a vegetable
garden for the needs of the house. There was one, a rectangular patch that was
now empty of any vegetables. Growing food was not for him.

He preferred to breed animals and then when they were ready
take them to the market. It was predictable unlike planting. He thought of a
farmer west of Montana whose wheat farm had become crippled by debt.
Christopher could never grow wheat. When the profits came, they were huge but
he couldn’t bear the uncertainty that came with wheat farming. One depended so
much on things beyond his control.

“I better go, I’ll see you soon. Good luck with the bride.”
Mathew called out and hopped onto his horse.

He galloped off, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.
Christopher chuckled. That was just like Mathew. He never did things normally.
It was always with flare. However, behind the fun loving man, was a businessman
of steel. Christopher knew that without Mathew’s guidance over the years, he
would not have made it. He had taught him all the intricacies of ensuring that
his cattle reached the desired weight and did not fall prone to illnesses.

Christopher did not go back to the house. Instead, he went
to the barn and took out his horse, a black huge energetic mare that could
gallop untiring, at very fast speeds. Christopher tapped the horse’s side, and
it took off, first a gentle trot, gradually adding its speed. The man and beast
headed to the Northern pasture, where Christopher had been repairing fences in
the morning. He tethered the horse and continued with his work.

It was tiresome work but it had to be done. A broken fence
could lead to the loss of a cow or even several and each was worth a
significant amount of money. Sometimes the problem was the cattle getting mixed
up. Each season’s cattle were kept separately from the rest of the herd and if
they got mixed up, separating them was a task that took weeks.

His mind went back to the letters. He thought of the two
different people living in the same house who had written to him. The one who
had sent a photograph was very beautiful. She had eyes that could melt
anybody’s heart and a small, slim body. The other had sent no picture, but her
personality shone through the page of her letter.

He felt sorry for them at losing a father and then having a
sickly mother. His heart twisted with pain when he remembered his own
circumstances seven years ago. He had left home in search of greener pastures,
but he had done so with a heavy heart. His mother had been sick and bedridden,
and the main reason why he had left.

His father had been a poor farmer, relying on handouts to
feed his wife and three boys. At eighteen, Christopher could no longer sit
helplessly watching his mother die. He had heard about the west, and how a hard
working person had the chance to change their lives. He had scrimped and saved
and finally bought a stage coach ticket.

It wasn’t enough to get him to the west, but it was enough
to land him in a thriving railway town where he had gotten by and saved further
by working odd jobs. A few months later, Christopher took off again, this time
reaching Montana. Despite having no experience riding horses, he had gotten a
job as an apprentice ranch hand, and within a few months could ride as well as
the best of them.

He had saved and just as he was about to send money back
home, he had gotten word that his mother had died. It had taken every ounce of
willpower in him to keep going. In the quiet of the night he had often wondered
what the purpose was, after all, his mother getting better had been his reason
for working so hard. Over time, the grief had decreased and he had found a
reason to keep going.

Thanks to his hard work, his father and brothers now lived a
comfortable life back home. He had sent money consistently and they had added
to the small farm and bought a good breed of dairy cows. Christopher was still
working on convincing one of his brothers to come west but so far none was
willing.

That evening, tired after a whole day mending fences,
Christopher sat down to have his dinner-A huge chunk of bread and an
unappetizing piece of cold beef. He longed for a hot meal but he himself lacked
the time to prepare one. He came in tired in the evenings, and in the mornings
he was eager to go off and start the day’s work.

He chewed mechanically, not tasting the food or giving it
much thought. When he finished, he got a writing pad and pen and prepared to
write his letters. For Christopher, there was no time to waste. The more they
communicated, the more he would know who was better suited to his sort of life.

Christopher was used to taking well thought out risks, but
this one was the biggest in that it would affect the rest of his life. There
was no bigger catastrophe than choosing the wrong wife. A man could spend the
rest of his days in regret. But there was no option if Christopher wanted a
wife. He looked at the pen and willed the words to come which they did.

He finished one and then started on the other. He asked
questions and described his life in Montana. Would they still be willing to
come despite the harsh life of a ranch? It was good in the sense that one never
lacked basic needs; however everybody on a ranch had to pull their weight.

“I got it, I got a letter!” Amanda yelled, running into the
kitchen and waving a letter about.

Elsa felt a crush of disappointment. Even she had known that
her chances were slim, she had still harbored hope that the cowboy would choose
her.

“What does he say?” Elsa said.

“Let me read it first.” Amanda said, and plopped down on the
chair.

Elsa turned her attention back to washing their breakfast
utensils. Her forehead was covered with creases of worry. Their mother was
getting worse. She could feel it. In the last two days she had not had one
moment where she was lucid. She spoke as though in a dream and did not seem to
recognize her. Elsa was deeply scared. How would they cope without their
mother?

When she finished the washing, she dried her hands on her
dress and sat down next to Amanda. Her face had lost its earlier animation and
she looked thoughtful.

“What does he say?” Elsa said unable to bear the waiting any
longer.

“Christopher says we should get to know each other better
and then goes on to describe the ranch. It’s big; he has two thousand heads of
cattle and about to double that number. I wonder then why he has no servants.”
Amanda said.

“Servants? Amanda we’ve never ever had servants, so why
would you want a servant?” Elsa said.

“I mean to start at the ranch how I will continue. I have no
intentions of spending the rest of my life on my hands and knees scrubbing the
floor.” Amanda said.

Elsa was shocked into silence. Her sister never ceased to
surprise her, but today she had shocked Elsa? Why would somebody who had never
had servants long for them? She almost felt sorry for Christopher. He had been
taken in by a photograph of a pretty girl. Amanda had confessed to her that she
had slipped a photograph into the letter.

“I will not go to Montana before he employs the services of
a housekeeper.” Amanda declared.

Elsa looked at Amanda in wonder; had her sister lost her
marbles?

“Are you mad? Mama is sick, we can do with all the help that
we need, yet your biggest worry is servants?”

“I will send you money to take mama to a doctor when I
settle down.” Amanda said.

“Amanda. Mama may not make it? If you visited her often,
you’d notice how much she has deteriorated. I’m afraid if she doesn’t see a
doctor in the next few days, we’ll lose her.” Elsa said, wiping off the tears
from her cheeks.

Amanda hated talking about their mother, but not talking
would not wish the illness away.

“I’m sure you exaggerate.” Amanda said breezily.

“Stop it!” Elsa shouted, surprising both of them. “Can’t you
see beyond yourself for once? Mama is dying.”

“So what do you want me to do?” Amanda shouted back.

“What is it girls?” a weak voice said from the kitchen door.

“Mama what are you doing awake?” Elsa cried out and ran to
their mother’s side.

Walking from her bedroom to the kitchen had exhausted her
and she leaned weakly on the door frame. She tried to smile but instead it came
out as a grimace. Elsa held her waist, and lifted her arm to go over her
shoulder. Gently she turned her mother round and walked her gently back. She
could feel her bones, and looking at her body in her night dress, Elsa wanted
to sob.

She looked like a child, so small and with no meat on her.
The good thing however was that she had spoken. That meant that she was getting
better surely? She tucked her back in her bed and before Elsa took a step out
of the room, she was fast asleep. The short walk had wiped out her little
energy. She tip-toed to the door and stood watching her mother.

Then her thoughts returned to Christopher. She had not known
his name before Amanda told her. Elsa knew that her motives for writing to him
had not been completely genuine but she had told him, in not so many words.
Sure, she liked the idea of marrying a cowboy, it was so romantic. However the
main reason marriage had sounded so attractive was so that she could get help
for their mother.

Elsa returned to the kitchen to find Amanda engrossed in
replying the letter.

“You should mention that mum is sick. He might want to
help.” Elsa said, feeling foolish as she said the words.

Why would a stranger be interested in knowing whether
Amanda’s mother was sick or not, and even more, why would he want to help?

Amanda threw her a dark look. “You want me to spoil my
chances by mentioning a sick mother? He’ll see me as a burden.” Realization
dawned on her then and her eyes widened. “You told him about mother?”

Elsa nodded. “That’s part of the reason why I wrote to him.
I sort of made it a condition of my acceptance of going to Montana. Mama has to
see a doctor first.”

To Elsa’s surprise, Amanda dropped her pen and broke into
laughter. She laughed so hard that tears fell from her eyes.

“You really are an innocent to the ways of the world sister.
Which man would take on the burden of a sick mother?”

When Amanda put it like that, Elsa felt foolish at the
letter she had written. Clearly men preferred a woman who covered up things
rather than one who was forthright about her situation. Since Christopher was
that kind of man, they did not belong together. Elsa preferred honesty, however
bad the situation was.

Amanda left for the post office later in the morning and
Elsa cleaned up the barn and let out their lone cow to graze on the remaining
grass. The following morning, Elsa had the sound of hooves as a horse
approached the house. She hurried to the front door wondering who on earth it
could be. They rarely received visitors; it was as if the townsfolk were
worried that their misfortunes were catching.

It was the postman and with a smile he handed a letter to
Elsa. Her heart pounded faster when she saw that the letter was addressed to
her. She went to the kitchen and with trembling fingers slit open the letter.
When she unfolded, a few notes fell out, and Elsa’s jaw dropped. She read the
letter with tears streaming down her eyes.

Dear Elsa,

I read your frank letter with a heavy heart and felt for you
and your sister. Many years ago I was in a similar situation and that’s why I
feel obliged to help. I hope that your outcome turns out better than mine did.
Please put aside your agreement, the money that I have enclosed is not binding,
it’s simply a gift from one country man to another.

That aside, I’m still interested in knowing more about you.
Tell me about yourself, and do let me know how your mother progresses, I’m
eager to know if she regains her health. I will not write much, knowing that it
is of utmost urgency that you take your mother to a doctor. However when
everything settles down, I’d be most eager to hear from you.

Respectfully,

Christopher.

Elsa dropped her head and cried like she would never stop.
Never in her whole life had she ever experienced kindness from a stranger-
Nothing of this magnitude. Did such people really exist? Her mind was
everywhere and she needed time to compose her thoughts and think about where to
begin. She looked at the notes and the gingerly picked them. Three whole
dollars.

Suddenly, Elsa jumped up and went to their room.

“I’m off to get a buggy; we’re taking mama to the doctors.”
Elsa announced to Amanda.

“How, do you have money?” she said.

“Yes, lots. Go to the kitchen and read the letter on the
table. You’ll understand everything. Then get mama ready. Give a wiping and
dress her. There’s no time to waste. I’m off.” Elsa said and ran out, pausing
only to open the front door.

“How do you do Elsa, how’s your mama?” Mrs. Potter shouted
at her.

Elsa waved, and shouted back. “Not good, we’re taking her to
the doctors.”

She never stopped running.

“All the best child.” Mrs. Potter’s voice floated to her
ears.

Elsa ran all the way to town and to the railway station
where the buggies for hire waited for passengers. She got one, negotiated a
price, and soon, she was bouncing at the back on the way to get Amanda and
their mother. She gripped the rail at the front tightly and said a silent
prayer.
Please let it not be too late.
Now that help was so close, Elsa felt taut with nerves.