Adela's Prairie Suitor (The Annex Mail-Order Brides Book 1) (9 page)

He’d rather think about Adela. If Dick hadn’t interrupted them in the kitchen last week, he’d have kissed that little gal. Darn Dick’s hide. Byron chided himself for not asking her to marry him by now. He wanted to in the worst way.

There was only one thing stopping him. Ma. He couldn’t marry Adela without Ma’s blessing, though he’d thought so before Adela arrived.

A gnarled cottonwood marked the turn in the road toward town, and Byron stopped under its pitiful shade to drink from his canteen and give the horse a rest. A low hanging branch jutted out from the tree like a bent elbow. Legend held that this was a hanging tree back when this was a territory.

Byron felt like a noose was tightening around his neck, and maybe he’d put it there. Ma always said he was too willful, wanting to get his way no matter what. She was right about that. He’d been too willful, even to the point of selecting a bride. It was almost like he couldn’t find what he wanted in the mercantile, and ordered it out of the Montgomery Ward catalogue.

He wanted Adela. She was sweet, intelligent, and unselfish. Beautiful, inside and out. She had a way of turning his insides to mush every time she looked at him. There was no other woman in the world he wanted to marry. But maybe he should have.

What if he’d married Hilda Jane? Clint Lynstrum would have joined their two farms and managed them both. He was a good farmer. Every bit as good as Pa had been, and that was saying a lot. Byron could have started the ranch and given those wayward boys a home. Yes, he’d have had to deal with Hilda Jane, but maybe she’d have settled down like Ma said.

Byron had prayed over his decision to send for Adela, but did he really listen to God’s answer? Or did he hear what he wanted to hear? God would have wanted him to be honest with Adela. Byron hadn’t been fair to her. For certain, God expected him to honor his mother.

Adela hadn’t been here but two weeks. He’d promised her a full month to make up her mind. He’d have to give her time to fit in. Everyone fussed over Adela at church, making her feel welcome there at least. She enjoyed the service, and best of all, Hilda Jane wasn’t there to make trouble.

He was pretty sure Adela had feelings for him, but Ma was making her life miserable. It wouldn’t get any easier after he married Adela. No way around it. He’d have to get Ma’s blessing before he asked Adela to marry him.

Maybe Ma just needed time to get used to the situation. She liked Clint Lynstrum a lot and went over there every other day. Said it was to visit Hilda Jane, but Byron wasn't fooled. Ma was just afraid people would say she couldn’t love another man so soon after her husband’s death. Time would take care of that too.

Byron made his way to the Soranson’s place. Dick lived with them, or at least that was where he’d last stayed. Sad to think that in the boy’s short life, he’d lived with half a dozen families. Hank Soranson was Dick’s friend and almost as much trouble as Dick. If Byron could’ve gotten the ranch started, the bunkhouse built, added a couple of cows—

All of which cost money.

He reined in his sorrel mare and shouted, “Hello the house.”

Hank came out the door. “Dick ain’t here.”

“Howdy to you too. You see him lately?”

“No.”

“Well, Hank, while I’m here, let’s talk. If I get the bunkhouse built, would you be willing to take care of the cattle?”

The boy’s countenance changed. “Yeah, I said I would if you’d pay me. Nobody wants to pay a body to work around here.”

“That is a problem. I was thinking of going into partnership with you boys, split what we make. If you work hard, you could put by enough to buy your own spread one day—or buy me out. I know you’re young now, but it’ll take a few years to make much.”

“When you want me to start?” Dick surprised Byron with that question. Too late he realized he’d been talking as if the scheme he offered the boys could be realized instead of something hoped for.

“Probably not until spring. I want to buy a few more head.” And it would take that long to sell some of the land. Spring was the best time to sell land.

“Ma ran off. It’s just me and Wilber and Dick—when he’s here, but he ain’t here now.”

“I know, but I’m willing to take on Wilber and Dick too.”

“We have to eat now,” Hank reminded him.

“I know you do. I’ll talk with the church about getting you boys some chores, and if I find a way to build that bunkhouse before spring, all of you can come on out.”

Byron checked with every store keeper in town, and no one had seen Dick. Might as well give up. As he passed the dry goods store an idea hit him. Adela had been trying so hard to please him and Ma, she deserved a reward.

Should he get her some ribbons? She’d just made a new dress and the pink ribbons lying on the sewing notions table would match perfectly, but would that be too personal for a man who was courting? Since he’d never done any courting before, he didn’t know. There were some scented soaps that smelled mighty good. Adela liked to take baths more than anyone he’d ever known. He’d had to haul in the wash tub half a dozen times in the past two week.

But soap would definitely be personal. He spied the big jar of peppermint sticks on the counter. It wasn’t much. He snatched up one of the pink ribbons and bought five peppermint sticks, tying them together with the pink ribbon.

He paid for his purchases, pleased with the sight of Adela’s present. Taking another stick of candy, he popped it in his mouth and tucked the gift for Adela in his pocket. The trip wasn’t a total waste after all.

After two hours, Bryon gave up the search for Dick and returned home. He found the house empty. Where had those women gotten off to? Ma was probably at the Lynstrums? That might be good—or bad. No telling what mischief Hilda Jane was cooking up.

He tapped on the bedroom doors to assure himself no one was in the house, then stalked back outside. Off to the west, dark clouds hovered. The day was unusually warm, and that could spell a mean storm. At this time of year a storm could be followed by cold and snow, but not before a powerful lot of thunder, lightning, and hail.

Out at the corral, Lem hollered, and Byron trotted to where he was. “Yer ma wanted me to tell you she went over to the Lynstrums. Clint came for her about some dither Hilda Jane was in. In my opinion, it was just an excuse. Clint’s kind of sweet on yer ma. You just might be getting a new pa afore long.”

Byron chose to ignore the jab. “No telling. Did Miss Mason go with her?” Was it possible Ma had finally invited Adela to go visiting?

“She got me to saddle Reddy about an hour ago, right after yer ma left.”

Byron didn’t like the sound of that. “Say where she was going?”

“Just taking a ride, she said.”

Those thunderheads were moving in fast. This wasn’t a good day to get caught out on the range. Besides, Adela didn’t know the lay of the land. Not all the rattle snakes had bedded down for the winter, and if she didn’t keep to the beaten paths, she might run into a rabbit hole. The worst of it was, if she were caught in the open in a lightning storm—the possibilities set his nerves on edge.

He spurred Nellie toward the west into the gusting wind. What if he couldn’t find Adela before the weather hit?

After riding hard for half an hour, dust blowing in from plowed fields almost blinded him, and he turned to the south pastures. Thankfully, he picked up fresh tracks. Five minutes later, the first rain drops hit.

His gaze swept the horizon. The rain would wash out the tracks before long. Within seconds it was a slashing torrent. He was right on the edge of the old ranch his pa had bought. The ranch house and bunkhouse were both burnt to the ground, but the rickety barn stood at an angle. He urged Nellie forward.

As he rode up, a horse neighed, and Nellie replied. Just inside Reddy stood. Heaving a breath of relief, Byron slid out of the saddle and pulled his horse inside. The roof wasn’t much, and water poured through a hundred leaks, but the barn buffeted the worst of the storm.

After his eyes adjusted to the dusky environs, he noticed Adela huddled in the driest corner. “Am I glad to find you.”

She looked up at him, chagrin etched in her features. “I got lost…and it began to rain.”

A musty smell prevailed, and he hoped the wind wouldn’t topple the roof down on them, but at the moment, she was the prettiest sight he’d seen in a long time. “Could’ve happened to anyone.” He lowered himself down beside her. “I don’t think it’ll rain much longer. Sky’s already getting lighter in the west. Could get cold, though.”

She shivered and he took her hand. Ice cold. She was drenched. He’d offer his coat, but it was soaked too.

“I’m sorry I caused you to go out in the storm.” Her voice was so soft he barely heard her over the pouring rain.

He rubbed the top of her hand, hoping to bring some warmth to her. “Don’t worry about that. I just hope you don’t get your death of cold out here.”

“Where are we?”

“Old Mr. Gower’s place.” The whole place burned down when I was just a runt. Mr. Gower was getting old. He sent all his cattle to market and sold the land to Pa. It was to be my place when I grew up. I made plans to restore the ranch, but when Pa died, I had to take over the farm. I didn’t want to sell the place, though. I changed my plans to build a ranch for wayward boys. It was my hope they’d live in the bunkhouse and raise the cattle. I’d put back part of their earnings until they could buy their own place. Then I’d bring in more boys as the need arose.”

“Dick told me he was one of the boys you’d promised to hire on when you got the ranch going.”

“Yeah, except I have to take care of the farm now. I’m not the farmer my pa was. After I paid off the bills this year, the harvest isn’t near enough to repair the bunkhouse, let alone buy some more cows.”

“Why was that?”

He gazed into her lovely brown eyes. As a possible wife, she should know his money situation.

“I can’t figure it out. I’ve gone over Pa’s books and can’t make sense of it. Looks like I should have had a lot more money than was in the bank.” He laughed. “Anyway, I guess I’m just going to have to sell some land to be able to plant next spring and get us through the winter. Trouble is, there’s a lean on all the property, farm included. I could try to sell the ranch, but doubt I’ll get much for it. It’s just a little place, and anyone who might want to farm would have to turn the sod a couple of years to make a go of it. Not many hankering for a spread like that, not with the government giving away land further north.”

“I studied book-keeping and accounting procedures. Maybe I could look at your father’s books and find out where your money went.”

He suddenly realized he still held her hand. Aware of her nearness and soft voice sent a quiver of desire straight through him. “I’d be happy for you to take a look, if you can find anything that makes sense, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll get right on it tonight.”

He shoved his hand into his coat pocket more to keep them off her than anything, and felt the peppermints. Pulling the little bundle out, he held it up to her. The ribbon had dampened and stuck to the candy.

A nervous laugh rumbled from his throat. “I brought you a present, but it doesn’t look like much now.”

A lovely smile creased her lips. “How thoughtful.” She took the peppermints and fingered the ribbon as if it was something to be valued. After untying the ribbon, she gave him a stick and popped one in her mouth. “I love peppermint.”

He took the candy automatically, but his brain was too muddled to taste it. How could he when her lips glistened from the moisture? He knew he stared into her eyes a moment too long when she removed the stick, and sent him a questioning look that softened with longing. Warmth rushed through him. Before he knew it, his arm went around her. She lifted her face and parted those glistening lips.

This was like a fire that sprang to life and flared, releasing heat and longing such as he’d never experienced. His mouth closed over hers and he tasted peppermint. A shaft of desire fluttered to his core, and to make matters worse, her arms came around him. He wanted a deeper taste, more than peppermint.

The horse snorting brought him to his senses. He lifted his head and the heat between them was like a palatable thing. The fire would have to be stopped before it consumed them both. He jumped to his feet, pulling her up.

“I’m sorry, Dellie, I didn’t mean to take liberties like that.”

“You didn’t take liberties.” Her voice was husky and low as she glanced at him through her lashes. “No one has called me Dellie since my father.”

“I have to confess what I’m feeling isn’t exactly fatherly, Dellie. It’s about stopped raining, but even if it hasn’t…I need to leave.”

Her brows drew together in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I have to think of your reputation. When, or if we marry, I don’t want people thinking we had to. I won’t have them thinking that of you.”

Understanding came into her eyes, and she blushed a ruddy shade of red.

He tugged her to where Reddy stood and lifted her into the saddle. You go on home. Get out of those wet clothes…” Now he blushed. “I mean change into something dry. Don’t tell anyone about us being here together or—” He turned the horse around and pointed. “Follow that path, it’ll lead you home in under a half hour.”

Byron slapped the horse’s rump to make sure she got underway. The wind had shifted from the north and was colder, which was good for him. He needed to cool off. Adela had another two weeks before he would ask her to marry him. Assuming Ma would give her blessing. Assuming Adela would say “yes.” He was afraid each day would be harder for him to behave gentlemanly.

Adela spent the following days pouring over Jim Calhoun’s strange books. It took a whole day to convince her she couldn’t decipher the records. It seemed that Mr. Calhoun forgot to record anything until he got the urge. Fortunately, he kept bank statements and receipts, so if one wanted to follow the transactions, it was possible.

When she found an empty journal and paper for ledgers, she decided the only thing to do was reconstruct the books as they should have been for the past two years. This painstaking task took all her free hours. She’d wanted to make a second dress, but that would have to wait. If she discovered anything of significance, it might save Byron’s dreams or at least the farm. That was more important than a new dress.