Read The Lady and the Cowboy Online
Authors: Catherine Winchester
The Lady and the Cowboy
The Lady and the Cowboy
by
Catherine Winchester
The Lady and the Cowboy
by
Catherine Winchester
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, other than those clearly in the public domain, are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living o
r dead, business establishments or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © Catherine Winchester 2013. All rights reserved.
British English Version
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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copyright © HotDamnStock.com
Cover design
© Catherine Winchester.
All rights reserved
Chapter
On
e
~ July 20
th
1882, Wakefield Ranch near Midridge, Texas
This had been the most miserable journey of Ruth’s life. The boat trip had been
all right, if tedious but it had been downhill from then. First the train ride across America had been hot, humid and at times, cramped. The hotels she’d stayed at in between trains had been… well, she didn’t know how to describe them; she had never seen anything like them in England. Basic might be the best adjective.
Then,
since this ranch was in the middle of nowhere, it necessitated an eight hour stagecoach ride from the railway station in Fort Worth, on some very rough roads. Her spine would probably never recover. Then the coach had dropped her in Midridge town’s Main Street and after seeing the lawyer, she’d had to hire another carriage, well more of a cart really, to take her out to the ranch and if possible, that ride had been even more jarring than the first.
As if that wasn’t enough, she had finall
y arrived, only to catch the heel of her boot on the loose carriage step and fall, rather ungracefully, onto the dirt driveway.
“Are you all right, Miss?”
Earl, the cart driver called out, making his way around to help her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”
Ruth
got to her feet and dusted off her hands. Some of the stones and pebbles had cut into her palms but it could have been a lot worse. She felt just about ready to scream, but she could hear her mother’s voice telling her that ‘a lady doesn’t scream’.
“Just my pride,
Earl,” she said with a weary sigh, pushing some loosened strands of dark hair behind her ears.
“I’ll get the bags
down, miss.”
“That was quite some fall,” said a
deep voice, filled with mirth and she turned to see a cowboy, complete with horse, gun and Stetson hat, standing to the rear of the carriage. The sun was behind him, so she couldn’t see his features yet and shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked up at him.
“I’ve had worse,” she answered coolly, galled by the fact that this cowboy was laughing at her.
The cowboy chuckled which raised Ruth’s hackles even further. She straightened her spine.
“Look, I don’t know who you are but I am half owner of this place, so it might be a good idea to show me a little more respect.”
That wiped the smile off his face.
“Owner?” he asked.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
The cowboy looked to the
wagon that had brought her here, piled high with her belongings.
“You moving in or something?”
“And if I am?”
The cowboy shrugged. “The bunk house is right over there.” He pointed to a wooden structure, “but it doesn’t exactly have male and female areas
, if you know what I’m saying.”
“And what’s wrong with that house?” she asked, pointing to the welcoming looking
farmhouse behind her.
“There’
s nothing wrong with it.”
She continued to stare at him for a moment, wondering if he was going to elaborate and when he didn’t, she gave up and went to help
Earl unload her trunks from the carriage.
The cowboy stood watching them
and when the last trunk was on the ground, Ruth turned back to him. From this angle she could see his features more clearly. He had a strong, square jaw with a hint of stubble, full lips and the lightest blue eyes that she had ever seen. It might even be an attractive face, if he ever bothered to smile.
“
Well, are you going to stare at us all day or lend a hand?”
“Last time I check
ed, I wasn’t paid to wait on guests, be they owners or not.”
“Then get back to looking after the ranch, because I'm certain that you aren’t paid to stand around gawking at people.” She turned her back, picked up two of her lighter bags and headed towards the house,
to which Earl was dragging her trunks.
She was determined not to look over her shoulder to see if he’d followed her instructions or not but once she reached the
house, she couldn't help it. He was nowhere in sight.
She didn’t k
now if she was pleased that he’d listened to her, or upset that she wouldn’t get to continue their fight. She was hot, sweaty, her palms stung and her dress was filthy; she wasn’t usually argumentative, it wasn’t ladylike after all but right now, she felt that she would have welcomed an altercation.
She left
Earl to bring the rest of her belongings over and walked up the wooden steps, across the veranda that spanned the front of the house and knocked on the door. Moments later it was answered by a homey looking woman, with kind eyes and simple dress. She was wiping her hands on a dish rag and smiled as she saw Ruth.
“Can I help you?” she asked. H
er accent was unusual but not so strong that Ruth didn’t understand her.
“
Hello. My name is Ruth Adams and I’d like to see Mr Wakefield, if I may?”
“You’re Ruth?” H
er smile widened. “We weren’t sure exactly when you were coming. Well don’t just stand there, come on in, you must be tired after your journey. I’m Mrs Wakefield, although most people around here call me Mamma,” she said as she led Ruth through a hallway.
There was a wide staircase leading to the floor above and Ruth
could glimpse a parlour and a dining room leading off the hallway.
“Very plea
sed to meet you.” Ruth offered as they walked.
They went through a door at the rear of the hallway and into a large kitchen. A young black woman was
chopping something on the side, but Ruth couldn’t see what.
“This is Ca
ssy, she helps me in the house,” Mamma explained. “Cassy, this is Ruth.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Ruth smiled. Cassy nodded then returned to her work but Ru
th thought that her brusque response was because she was shy, rather than rude.
“So, would you like something hot or something cool? Y
ou already look pretty hot, so how about some lemonade?” She was already bustling around the kitchen, getting glasses out.
Mamma
headed into what Ruth assumed was a pantry and came out moments later with two tall glasses of lemonade, and what looked like a mint leaf floating in the top of each.
“Let’s go through to the parlour where we can be more comfortable.” The parlour
was nicely decorated and well cared for, although the furniture was all looking a little aged.
“Sit yourself down
and take the weight off your feet.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Ruth said with a relieved sigh. “And I apologise for the state I'm in, I fell getting down from the carriage.”
“Don’t you worry, we don’t often stand on ceremony around here.” Mamma handed her a glass.
Unused to having foliage served with her beverages, Ruth look a t
entative sip of the drink, then sighed with pleasure.
“That’s deliciou
s,” she smiled at the other woman, who proudly beamed back at her.
“Old family recipe.” She took a sip from her own glass and sat back to observe her guest. “So, how was your journey?”
“Long and tiring,” Ruth gave her a weary smile. “But I really was hoping to speak with Mr Wakefield if I may? I’m afraid the lawyer didn’t tell me any details about my inheritance, so I don’t even know if Ivor had a house. It’s getting late so if I need to return to town, I’d rather be making a move, no offence.”
“None taken, child. I can’t say as I knew Ivor well, but I believe he rented rooms above Haskell’s Tavern.”
The letter from the lawyer had spoken of a 50% share in the ranch, both the business and properties, which she had hoped might mean he had a home there. Now she would have to spend more of her precious savings on accommodation.
“Perhaps I could take his rooms over. Is Haskell’s a nice kind of place?”
Mamma looked at her with sympathy. “I’m sorry, but Ivor owed four weeks on his rent. They threw most of his stuff out into the street. Besides, you’ll be staying here of course; we’ve got plenty of room.”
“Thank you, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense. The closest town is eight miles away, that’s one long walk. Haskell's is all they have and if you don’t mind me saying, it’s no place for a lady.”
“
One of my servants journeyed over with me, he’ll keep me safe.”
“I didn’t see a servant.”
“No, well he’ll be joining me soon.”
“And when he does, h
e can stay in the bunk house with the ranch hands.”
“No, honestly.
I was hoping that I could store some trunks here though, just until I find something a little more permanent? I’m getting tired of hauling them around with me.”
“Now that’s just ridiculous. You don’t even have your own horse yet, do you? How’re you going to get out here?”
“Well Earl, he brought me here from town, he said he was local and offered his services any time I needed them.”
Mamma
chuckled. “I wouldn’t trust Earl as far as I could throw him! No, child, you stay here with us, where I can keep my eye on you!” She winked.
Ruth was getting tired of arguing.
“Well, as long as it really wouldn’t be an imposition.”
“
It wouldn’t. It’s just me and Sam left now, rattling around in this big old house. It’ll be nice to have someone else around.”
“Then
, thank you very much. As soon as my horse gets here, I promise I’ll find something in town.”
“We’ll see about that when the time comes. Who’s bringing your horse?”
“His name is Joe. He used to be a groom on my father’s estate. He offered to see Angel from the boat to the ranch, so I could go on ahead with my luggage on the train.”
“And will you be keeping him on?”
“Not for long. I think he only volunteered to come with me so that he could see what life was like over here and whether or not he wants to stay. I think he likes the romanticism of the Wild West stories, although the reality might not live up to his expectations.”
“Well we’ve got plenty of room in the bunk house. Three square meals a day and company.”
“And what will his board be?”
“Long as he helps out a little around the ranch, free. I assume your horse won
’t keep him that busy?”
“Oh, no, I take care of most of her needs.”
“And you’ll pay him a wage?”
“Only for three months. He’s a lovely man and he really cares for the horses but… Well,
I don’t have a lot of money. I’ve been living off the charity of my brother-in-law since….” She wondered why she was telling Mrs Wakefield this; she wasn’t usually one to air her laundry in public. She supposed it must have something to do with how tired she was. “Well anyway, Joe and I agreed that I would keep him on for three months whilst he sees if he wants to stay in America and after that, I’ll pay his journey home or he’ll find employment.”
Mamma
nodded. “Well, if he’s a good worker, Sam might agree to keep him on.”
“
Speaking of Sam, is your husband around? I’d like to meet him.”
“My husband’s long dead, Ruth, can I call you Ruth?”
“Um, yes, I don’t see why not.” She was only used to family members using her Christian name, but she had already figured out that America was a lot less formal than England.
“
Sam is my eldest son. He’ll usually gets back around five or six, you’ll meet him at dinner I'm sure.”
“Oh, all right.”
“Now, why don’t I show you to your room so you can wash up and refresh yourself a little.”
“Thank you, I’d like that. I’ll just go and pay Earl.”
“You leave Earl to me,” Mamma assured Ruth, a firm hand on her shoulder ensuring that she didn’t try to get up. “I won’t have him fleecing any of my guests.
Ruth didn’t want to disagree with her host again so she relented and
held out her purse. “Please, take this. There should be enough in there to cover it.”
Most of her savings were kept in a purse that she tied around her waist, under her petticoats, so she didn’t have to worry about this woman running off with her life savings. Besides, she already felt at home with Mrs
Wakefield and despite having known her only minutes, trusted her.
She waited patiently for Mrs Wakefield to return and examined her damaged palms. They were filmed in dust and although there were a few spots of blood, mostly the stones had just raised bloodless flaps of skin.
She was beginning to think that coming here had been a huge mistake, despite how friendly Mrs Wakefield had been.
Her
family had all insisted that she would never be happy in a strange country, populated by ruffians and living on a ranch. They had told her to contact the lawyer and arrange for him to sell Ivor’s share, but she had known better. She had seen it as her big chance to escape her life, to start over, with no rumours and innuendo following her. Where she could earn her own living (she was sure there was something she could do, even on a ranch, to earn her keep) and not be forced to survive on the charity of others.