The Rancher (5 page)

Cole cleared his throat. “It was not my intention to be rude or to hurt you,” he said, rotating the brim of his hat around in his hands. Turning away from her, he paused, opening his mouth to say more.

When the words didn’t come, he closed it again, put his Stetson back on his head and trudged back toward the house.

Cole walked up the stairs of the homestead and into his room.  Everything was just as he’d left it, except for the mirrored oak washstand.  The water basin

had been filled and his shaving utensils and scissors had been set out evenly on the side support boards.  A fresh towel hung over the mirror post.

Cole removed his shirt and threw it

onto his oversized oak bed.  He pulled his suspenders down off his shoulders, picked up the grooming scissors, and began to clip away at his newly grown whiskers.

Small streaks of lather spotted his face once it was shaved to the skin.  He bent

over the water basin to wet his neck, cheeks, and chin, and then he wiped them clean.  Reaching for the towel, he took it from its perch and patted his face dry.

Cole stood straight.  Laying the damp cloth across the spindled post of the washstand, he glanced into the mirror.  He opened his mouth and rubbed his face,

turning it from side to side, making sure he had gotten everything.

A glint of silver at the corner of the basin caught his attention.  It was Alaric’s makeshift ring, bent out of a horseshoe nail.  It represented his reason for taking the job as Trail Boss for the Colorado run and served as his constant reminder of what had been lost.

She’ll be there...waiting for me
 
. Coleheard Alaric’s voice in his head, like hehad so many times before.  He reacheddown to the trinket and swept it up into hishand.

“I know,” he said with a loud voice, willing the rest of Alaric’s plea to stop echoing through his mind.   His teeth clenched together.   The ridges of the horseshoe ring cut into his palm before he

opened his hand again.

“I know,” he said more quietly, reclosing his fingers, almost reverently over the ring.  He tucked it into a small pocket at the front of his britches.

A splash of blue against his brownbedcover caught his attention. He crossedthe room to find a cerulean linen shirt, abrown leather vest, and his russet coloredhat already laid out for him.  The colorsreminded him of the vivid sky in his lastpainting.

He placed the hat low onto his head andgrabbed the shirt and vest from the bed onhis way out the door.  Sliding his armsthrough the sleeves of the shirt and hisvest in hand, he took the stairs two at atime.

To his surprise, the Dawson twins,

Arena   and   Aurora,   and   MaryBeth Hutchinson stood at the bottom of the

stairs, gawking up at him. He stopped mid stride, almost losing his balance.

When Arena and Aurora both put their hands up to their mouths and giggled, everyone else in the sitting room turned around to gawk at him.

As he glanced over the small crowd, he caught the one stare he’d hoped to avoid.  MaryBeth’s.  She threw him an appraising glance.  The tip of her tongue touched the edge of her front teeth. Cole took a deep breath and groaned. It had been a long time and he had no desire to repeat the past.

Mother,
 
he screamed in his mind.  Growling to himself, he forced some semblance of a smile.

Fully aware of his state of undress, hekept his face stoic and plodded down eachof the remaining stairs, his shirt open andhis suspenders dangling at his sides.

When he reached the bottom step, hetipped his hat.  “Ladies,” he said aloudwith false politeness before darting pastthem and into the kitchen.

“That was quite an entrance,” Rainemocked, closely following behind him. “MaryBeth sure looked pleased.”

“Did you know they were coming?” Cole turned on his brother, eyes squintedin speculation.

“Come on, Charcoal.” His brother satdown in the chair nearest the door and

leaned back onto the back legs.  He placed one booted foot across the arm of the chair

next to him, and the other rested against

the rod at the bottom of his chair.  “You just turned twenty-five.   What did you think would happen when you got home?”

“Granddad’s  will,”   he   said  with exasperation.   It came out more of a statement than a question. Cole pumped a glass of water and stood with his back against the sink.   “I should’ve known.” Bringing the glass to his lips he pondered his situation.  He’d forgotten all about it, since he had no desire to comply with its stipulations.

The money from his inheritance would give him the start he needed for his own place, but he didn’t think marrying MaryBeth Hutchinson or any of the other available girls in town would be worth the trouble.   He just wanted to be left alone to build and run his own ranch.

The front two legs of Raine’s chairreturned to the floor with a thud, bringing Cole back to the immediate present.  “Youdon’t seem the least bit disturbed that

mother has invited
 
three
 
young, eligible ladies to dinner.” Cole raised one eyebrow at his brother.

“Already got my inheritance,” Raine laughed. “They’re not here for me.

Though, I wouldn’t mind a courtin’ that Arena Dawson. Have you ever seen eyes that blue?”

Cole hadn’t noticed. “Come to think of it, why three?  Is Rafe in town?”

“Mama just wants you to have more to choose from, little brother.”

Cole wanted to wipe away the grin that spread across his brother’s face.

Girlish laughter and heavy footsteps in

the hallway extracted an inward groan from Cole.  He pitched his glass to slide across the countertop and buttoned his shirt.  He had just managed to tuck it in before the parade of guests entered the

room.

“Ladies,” Leah Redbourne purred as she ran her hand across Cole’s back. “Cole is only home for a couple of days and I thought it would be nice if you all had the opportunity to become better acquainted.”

Raine   grinned   from  ear  to   ear, obviously enjoying every moment of Cole’s discomfort. Cole’s fist curled at his side, ready to strike Raine at any moment.

“And, as I am sure you already know,”

his mother placed her other hand on

Raine’s back, “this is my eldest son, Raine.   He’s   living  here   and   also

unattached.”

Raine’s   smile   dropped.   Cole

unclenched his fist with a smirk.

Getting married was the last thing Colewanted to worry about and the thought ofhis mother arranging this dinner, simply toencourage him to meet the requirements ofthe will, made his stomach churn and hishead hurt.

MaryBeth Hutchinson took the seat inbetween him and Raine.  Her strong floralscent, once irresistible to him, nowinfused   aversely  with  the  deliciousculinary aromas that had permeated thekitchen moments earlier.

She reached under the table and placedher hand on his leg, just above the knee.

When he turned to look at her she battedher eyelashes in coquettish fashion.  Heforced a half smile.
 
There has to beanother way.

Chapter Three

Colorado, Thursday

“You’ve been staring at that box forever, Abby.  Open it.”

Abby sat on the floor with her legs curled behind her.   Her fingers glided across the beautiful engraving on the front of her mother’s dark walnut chest.  Lily was right.

Abby fondled the long, slender key in her lap. She hadn’t opened it since her mother had passed away, nearly six years ago. She glanced at Lily, who sat on the edge of Abby’s four poster bed, her arm wrapped around its wooden post.   She

offered a nod of encouragement.

Abby lifted the key and placed it into the metal adorned opening just below the lid. She turned it.

Click.

All she had to do was lift the top.  Shetook a deep breath and exhaled slowly.  Asoft creak accompanied the lid as itopened.   Abby lifted herself onto herknees and rested the lid against thefootboard of her bed.  Both young womenpeered over the top and with reverencelooked down into the chest.

A pungent cedar aroma escaped into theair, mixing with the lilac scent of Abby’sfreshly washed hair—some concoction Lily had demanded she use. Abby closedher eyes to the familiar fragrance, revelingin the memory of her mother pulling her

denim patchwork quilt from the chest and wrapping it around Abby’s shoulders as she read to her.

At the sound of Lily clearing her throat, Abby reached into the box and pulled out a mass of soft silk and lace, the color of buttercream. Abby held the dress up to her bosom and spread the bottom of it out around her.

Lily moved to the other side of the roomand stopped when she reached the bottomhem of the fine material.

“It’s hard to believe your mama everwore something so...” Lily bit her lip, “...so, beautiful.”

“It is exquisite isn’t it?” Abby caressedthe delicate fabric with awe.

“Abby, are you sure you know whatyou’re doing?” Lily fingered the lace,

shaking her head.

Abby stood, draping the creamy layers over her forearm, and moved to the fulllength mirror in the corner of the room.  After removing an old hat and a pair of worn trousers from the scroll-like posts holding the mirror together, she held the bridal gown up to her less than feminine appearance and frowned. The intricate wooden carvings that surrounded the mirrored glass created a stunning frame for her otherwise disheveled reflection.

“Put it on,” Lily encouraged, her amber eyes alight.

Abby froze, reluctant to even hope her plan might work. It had been so long since she’d worn something so beautiful. She’d always wished that one day she would get hitched and have a family, but somewhere

along the road, she’d stopped believing it would ever happen.  She’d accepted that a long time ago and had been content living on the ranch with her father and the

horses.  Now, things were different.  She lifted her chin.  She had to try.

Lily hurried across the room, took the dress from Abby, and laid it across the bed while Abby began discarding her clothes.

“Maybe there are some bloomers and a corset in the chest, too.” Lily raised her eyebrows and half smiled as she peered over the wooden coffer.   After a few

moments, she squealed with excitement.  To Abby’s dismay, she must have found what she’d been looking for. She pulled out a pair of bloomers, a corset, pantalets, and a chemise. A soft smile appeared on

Lily’s lips.  She gave one slow nod.

Abby groaned.

After she’d donned the appropriateundergarments, she stepped into the dressand held her breath while Lily fastened theback.   Lily turned her to face the full-length mirror in the corner of her room.  She opened one eye and then the other.

Nothing spectacular happened.   Shehadn’t been suddenly transformed into avision of beauty or status.  Her same oldreflection stared back at her, only thisreflection wore a pretty dress. Abby’sshoulders slumped.

Lily stepped forward and pinched Abby’s cheeks and brushed a group ofunruly tendrils from her eyes.

“They just have to see who I see,” Lilycoaxed.  “And I see a very talented young

lady with spirit and gumption.”

Abby smiled then shrugged.  She moved away from the mirror and toward the worn chaise in the opposite corner of the room.  “There’s not much use in trying to be somebody I’m not, but I can’t go to Denver.  The only horses there are hooked up to fancy carriages on paved roads.”

Lily laughed and joined her on the chaise.

“I went to see Jeremiah Carson last night.” Abby smirked at the look of shock that spread across Lily’s face.

“You did not.” Lily slipped her shoes back onto her feet while Abby stood to remove the dress and return it to the hope chest.

Abby  had   wanted   to   share   the information with her friend earlier about

her encounter with young Mr. Carson, but the memory of it still smarted.

“He told me it was inappropriate for the woman to do the asking and it was just like me to think I could do a man’s job,” Abby said matter-of-factly.