Bartered Bride Romance Collection (32 page)

Luke whistled. “More ready cash than we can scrape together. You know, maybe this was meant to be. That motherly one isn’t in any shape to stick back on a train.”

“Don’t even think about it.” Jim waggled his finger menacingly. “We lollygag around on this, and she’ll be too far gone to travel. Spending the whole winter in the stable so’s those gals can take over our house is just plain crazy. We have to come up with a plan.”

“I’ll concede that point.”

“So I started thinking, maybe we can just send them back. You heard Matty: Tickets cost forty bucks. We’ll do that and toss in an extra hundred so that brother-in-law won’t have call to shove ’em outta their place this winter. It’ll stretch our budget, but we can manage.”

“Forty bucks is low-class accommodations. You couldn’t possibly do that to those poor sisters, specially not the”—he patted his washboard belly—“one!”

“I suppose you have a better idea?”

“There’s no rush. The next eastbound train won’t stop here for nine days. Until then, you’d best cool your temper and figure on getting some tasty meals for a change.”

Jim heaved a sigh as he flopped down on his itchy, makeshift bed. He stacked his hands behind his head and stared at the cobwebs adorning the barn’s crossbeam ceiling. “I guess that’s some consolation.”

“Best meal we’ve eaten in years.”

“Don’t get used to it, Luke. No use compounding one mistake by making a bunch more.”

Chapter 3

M
atty sluiced water on her face and sighed with delight. Last night she and her sisters made good use of the tub. After that dreadful five-day train ride, she’d been sure she’d never come clean. They’d acquainted themselves with the kitchen and whipped up chicken and dumplings. While they shared the supper table with the Collingswood brothers, no one had concocted a solution to their quandary.

The Collingswood brothers revealed their father had died four years ago, and their mother and sister now lived in Chicago. Jim looked at Matty and waggled his fork to punctuate his words. “No woman was made to live out here. Our ma and sis got out alive—two others came and didn’t make it through their first winter.”

James didn’t ask them any personal questions. That notable omission made it clear he was unwilling to entertain any notion of honoring the mail-order arrangement—mixed up as it was. He held no responsibility for the predicament, and Matty almost felt relieved. She hadn’t been happy about being sent out here to husband hunt … so why did she still feel a twinge of regret that this cowboy didn’t want her?

He’d answered enough questions for the sisters to learn the Rough Cs Ranch ran cattle; but during the spring and summer, the brothers also captured and tamed wild mustangs. Clearly, they were ambitious men; and from the looks of the buildings and grounds, they were also very hardworking.

Luke managed to coax a bit of information from Matty and her sisters; but for the most part, he’d avidly eaten every last bit of food on the table.

Corrie fell asleep over dessert, and Jim Collingswood shot her a worried look. “Doesn’t appear as though that afternoon nap did her much good.”

“Corrie’s a widow,” Matty said as she rose. She’d rehearsed how to impart the news as delicately as she could, but now that the time was at hand, the words nearly choked her. “She’ll make aunts of us all just before Christmas.”

Both men stood when Matty rose. The table manners and genteel customs they displayed came as a very pleasant surprise. So did the fact that Luke bent and carefully scooped Corrie into his arms. “I suspected she was in the family way when I caught her at the train stop. I’ll take her back upstairs.”

As his brother carried Corrie to her bed and Bess followed along to tend her, Jim held Matty back. “And she came out here as a bride?”

Matty sighed. “My sister Adele’s husband took over our parents’ dairy farm after they passed on two years ago and made life for us unbearable. Corrie came back to live with us a couple of months ago, the day she became a widow. Ellis knew she was in a delicate condition, but it didn’t matter to him in the least.”

Jim shook his head in disbelief. “I suppose bringing her here was more merciful than leaving her in his care.”

More merciful …
His words echoed in Matty’s mind this morning as she braided her hair. Quietly so she wouldn’t wake Corrie, she slipped into the blue delft-patterned dress she’d made from feed sacks and tiptoed out of the room.

“How’s Corrie?” Bess whispered in the hall.

“Still sleeping like a baby.”

“Good. I just woke Bertie. She was upside-down in the bed and still won’t turn lose of that hatbox of hers. She’s never suffered wearing a bonnet gladly. Do you suppose we’ve finally started taming her into womanhood?”

“I dearly hope so. Perhaps all of our prayers are finally being answered.”

Bess shook her head as they went down the stairs. “I’m afraid not. We prayed for godly men to be our husbands. Instead, we’re going to have to make our way amidst the rabble and roughs until we earn enough money to get back home.”

“Or we could settle here. Ellis will marry us off to whomever he can just to get rid of us. If we make Lickwind our home, at least we can stay together.”

“I declare, Matty, you’re always making the best of a situation. Problem is, I can’t see how we’ll ever manage here on our own for any longer than it’ll take to earn train fare.”

“We’ll consider it as a challenge. I was thinking last night—” Bess shot her an alarmed look. “Oh, no.”

“Now listen. It’s a good plan. Only one of us needs to get married. Ellis had no right at all to sell us off as if we were his property. He put us on that train, and he’s keeping the dairy farm.”

“Adele didn’t look very sad, sending us off,” Bess grumbled as they entered the kitchen. “She and Ellis deserve one another.”

“I figure they owe us for taking our share of the birthright; and this whole trip was Ellis’s idea, so I don’t feel bad that they’re out the money for our train fares. We need to put together whatever we have left. That’ll be enough seed money to set up a solid business in town.”

“Town didn’t look any too industrious. It’s no more than a spit in the wind.”

“Bess!” Matty laughed. “Mama would have a conniption if she ever heard you talk like that.” While Bess humphed, Matty continued. “We could do mending and baking. I’m sure we could make it work.”

As her sister lit a kerosene lamp, Matty stirred the embers in the four-burner Monitor stove and added another log. “I’ll go milk the cow if you gather the eggs.”

“You can’t go into the barn. The men are there!”

“Which is why the cow is tied up by the coop.” Matty grabbed a pail and scooted out the door. She’d managed to cajole one of the hands to find her a heifer that was fresh last night. He’d looked at her as if she was crazy as a loon for making that request, but he’d also been more than eager to please. As it turned out, Western ranches only viewed the cattle as beef on the hoof and ignored the dairy possibilities. Matty resolved to discuss that matter with whichever rancher married her.

The lavender predawn light allowed her to pick her way across the yard. Matty patted the Rough Cs’ brand on the heifer’s hip. The three wavy, parallel lines with a tilted
C
riding them were both clever and would be hard to tamper with. It seemed the Collingswood brothers thought of almost everything except a milking stool. One would be nice; but since they didn’t have one, she squatted down and set to work. Leaning into the warm side of the cow, she quickly hit a rhythm and filled the bucket.

“Forty-one eggs—half of them brown!” Bess declared as she exited the coop. “Can you imagine having such fine laying hens?”

“Beats frying lame hens,” a man drawled as the sound of a shotgun being cocked clicked.

Both sisters jumped and yelped.

“Dear mercy!” Matty set down the milk before she spilled it.

“Sir, you have no business sneaking up on women.” Bess clutched the egg basket closer and peered into the shadows.

The barn door crashed open. Jim and Luke Collingswood both bolted out with guns drawn. “What’s wrong?”

“Found these two sneakin’ round the henhouse,” a gangly man said as he stepped from behind the privy. He bobbed his grizzled head. “Caught ’em red-handed. Cain’t say I ivver seen prettier thieves.”

“Thieves!” Bess stepped forward in outrage. “I’ll have you know—”

“We were getting ready to make breakfast,” Matty interrupted. “And we expect you’ll be at the table in about fifteen minutes.”

“Boss, is she givin’ the invite to you or to all us hands?”

“Just us, Scotty,” Jim growled as he cradled his rifle so it didn’t endanger anyone. He looked as comfortable as a mother rocking a baby. The fact that his shirt hung wide open and he was standing barefoot on prickly straw and cold dirt didn’t even seem to register.

“I heard tell you got yourself some brides from the train yesterday. Thought it was just Lanky’s whiskey talkin’.”

Luke shoved his revolver into his waistband and held his shirt closed. “I was wondering if I dreamed it myself.”

Matty saw the impish sparkle in Luke’s eyes, but the fire in Jim’s made her decide to stick to the facts. “How many hands do you have, Mr. Collingswood?”

Jim closed the distance between himself and Matty. He scowled. “Don’t you go getting any romantic notions about my men. I pay ’em fair, and they earn it; but not a one of ’em is marriage material, so you just stay away from them.”

She nodded sagely. “I understand.”

“Just what do you understand?” The muscles in his well-chiseled jaw twitched. She turned away, dragging Bess along with her, and called over her shoulder, “You’re a man who needs his coffee before he’s ready to face the day. See you in a quarter hour.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jim figured his mind was playing tricks on him. He couldn’t possibly be smelling coffee—not out here in the birthing shed when he needed to concentrate on the high-strung mare.

“Looks like you could use this,” Matty whispered as she slipped up and pressed a steaming cup into his hands. She held a plate in her other hand—one with a mountain of fluffy scrambled eggs, biscuits, and gravy.

He hummed in appreciation as he took a bracing swig of the coffee then accepted the plate. “Miss, you don’t belong out here.”

Her soft-as-flannel blue eyes twinkled. “Mr. Collingswood, we had a dairy farm back home. Indelicate as it may be, I’ve tended to the business end of plenty of farm animals.”

“Is that so?”

Her calm demeanor surprised him. “Your mare’s taking a minute to gather up her strength. Why don’t you have a quick bite while I wipe her down with some straw?”

“You?”

Instead of being insulted, she looked at the mare. Her voice took on an amused flavor. “Well, forget your breakfast, cowboy. This one’s not going to wait.”

A short while later, Jim stood by Matty’s side and chuckled. “That foal’s a hungry one.”

Matty nudged him and giggled. “I’ll bet you are, too. A dog ate your breakfast while we were busy.”

He spun around and gave the empty plate a look of utter despair. “Dumb dog would try the patience of a saint. One of our hands went to town and, um—”