The Rancher Takes a Cook (3 page)

Now that her errand was complete, Anna had a
strong desire to get away from this place and back home where the
people were familiar. Not to mention a craving for dry clothing.
With as charming a smile as she could muster, she said, “No,
indeed, Major. My home is not far from here and a little more rain
won’t hurt me. Thank you again for your help, and I’ll bid you both
good day.”

With that, she plunged through the tent flap
and out into the weather. The rain fell in sheets now, and a bolt
of lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a clap of
thunder. Gritting her teeth, Anna charged ahead, trying to avoid
the streams of water flowing across the muddy street. She kept her
head bent low so the rain didn’t fall in her eyes.

Suddenly, something struck her waist and the
air whooshed out her lungs. Strong arms closed around her, dragging
her, and then the daylight disappeared. Darkness smothered like a
blinding smoke. Choking.

Anna screamed and a hand clamped over her
mouth. Grimy skin reeked like a horse’s hoof, churning her stomach.
She flexed her jaw but couldn’t get her teeth around the rough
flesh that pressed over her face.

“Shut up and quit yer fighting,” a voice
hissed in her ear. The warm breath on her neck made Anna’s skin
crawl. She stomped with all her might, and satisfaction rushed in
when her boot landed squarely on his foot. The man muttered a few
expletives that burned Anna’s ears.

“Quit, you Jezebel,” he growled. “If you
know what’s good for ya, you’ll keep your nose in your own business
and quit talkin’ to the Major. You tell that brother of yours to
shut up, too, or I’ll have my men do more than just toss him
around.” The man let out a sinister laugh that spread goose bumps
over Anna’s arms. His voice sounded familiar—probably the Colonel
who had looked at her so lustfully on the street. She had to get
away from this thug and his dark tent.

Lord, please help!
Anna’s mind
screamed. A verse flickered through her mind.
Fear not, for I am
with thee. Be not dismayed, for I am thy God. I will strengthen
thee, yea, I will help thee. I will uphold thee with the right hand
of My righteousness.
Anna’s chest loosened, and peace washed
through her.

The man shuffled deeper into the tent and
pulled her with him. “Now listen here, missy,” the voice rasped.
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth for just a minute, and
you’re going to keep yourself quiet as a kitten, do ye hear? One
little sound and you’ll regret it for the rest of yer short life.”
He snickered in the darkness as she nodded. She had to pacify him
as much as possible until she found the right time to make a
move.

His hand slid off her mouth and he brushed
her arm as he reached for something in the darkness. Anna sucked in
a breath of clean air, but the arm still cinched around her waist
restricted her lungs from filling completely. As the man moved,
something metallic-sounding clattered to the ground. The arm around
her waist loosened just a fraction as the man bent to retrieve the
object, but it was the moment Anna had been waiting for.

Like a nitroglycerine explosion, she slammed
both elbows into the man’s ribcage and kicked at his knee as hard
as she could. She wasn’t sure if it was the shock or the pain that
caused his hold to loosen, but Anna writhed out of his grip and
bolted for the door. He recovered too quickly, though, and grabbed
her hair in his fist, jerking her back to him. Anna let out the
loudest scream she could muster, freedom slipping away from
her.

The man again clamped a hand over her mouth
and nose, cutting off her air supply. But it was too late. Heavy
boot thuds and men’s voices drifted from outside the tent, then the
flap opened and lantern light illuminated the area.

* * *

Over the next week, Anna kept Edward close
to the Mercantile, and she was too shaken up to venture farther
than the backyard herself. Major Barnes had informed Uncle Walter
that the Corporal had received punishment and been transferred to
Virginia for his misconduct, but Anna still worried that another of
the soldiers might have taken up his vendetta.

She couldn’t stay holed up in her aunt and
uncle’s house forever, though. More than anything, Anna wanted a
home of their own and a livelihood. A
purpose
. How could she
earn enough income to maintain a roof over their heads and still
have enough for food? Without a large amount of capital to start a
new business—which she didn’t have—it was impossible for a woman to
support herself alone, much less support a fifteen-year-old
brother, too. Edward’s odd jobs earned pocket change but certainly
not enough to live on. Anna had become an excellent cook and
housekeeper over the years since Mama passed away, but most
housekeeping jobs were live-in positions, and she had to find a way
for Edward and her to stay together.
Lord, please send me
something. I need to figure out what to do now.

* * *

Edward came in for supper that night fairly
glowing. He fidgeted during the prayer, and as soon as Uncle
Walter’s deep baritone voice said, “Amen,” Edward looked up at Anna
with the shine of a schoolboy who’d just won the spelling bee.

“Guess what?” Without waiting for a
response, Edward rushed on. “A couple of cowboys were at the smithy
today when I was holdin’ horses to be shod. One of ’em noticed how
good I was with the animals and asked if I wanted a job as a
cowpuncher. His name’s Monty and he said he’s the foreman on the
Double Rocking B Ranch and they need a good cowboy. He said he’ll
teach me everything I need to know. Isn’t that great, Anna?”

Edward’s eyes looked at her with brows
raised and grin wrapping his face. She didn’t have the heart to
tell him no right then. But that was certainly what she planned to
say. Absolutely not. The life of a cowboy was far too dangerous.
She’d heard the stories of cowboys being horned to death by the
crazy longhorn cows or bitten by rattlesnakes or sucked into
quicksand or attacked by mountain lions. No doubt about it, Edward
would
not
be a cowboy.

He eyed her with brows lifted, waiting for
an answer. She looked at him with her most placating smile and
began, “That’s quite an honor, Eddie, that he thought so highly of
your skills as a horseman. I hope you were polite when you told him
no.”

“No? Why would I tell him no?” A wrinkle
formed between Edward’s eyes. “He said it pays twenty-five dollars
a week. Twenty-five whole dollars. And that includes room and
board. I’m to start on Monday.”

“Start on Monday?” Anna’s pulse leaped as a
tingle shot up her spine. This situation was becoming too dire to
beat around the bush anymore. “Absolutely not. The work of a cowboy
is far too dangerous. You simply cannot.”

“But Anna.” Edward’s tone was steady, but he
had a stubborn jut to his chin. “We need the money and it’s a
respectable job. I’ll be careful, and everything will be just fine.
You’ll see.”

In desperation, Anna turned to her uncle.
“Uncle Walter, please tell Edward how ridiculous this idea is.”

Uncle Walter stroked his chin, creases
forming between his dark brows. “I know the Double Rocking B and
its owner well. Marty O’Brien is a good man and runs an honest
spread. He would watch over the boy and see he receives proper
training. Yes, I think it might be a good plan.”

Anna sat back in her chair, astonished.
She’d always respected her uncle’s wisdom and judgment. How could
he possibly think this was a good idea? Apparently, she would have
to take the matter into her own hands.

Anna settled into the saddle on the bay
livery mare and let out a long breath. The leather beneath her and
the musky smell of the horse eased the tension from her muscles.
She tucked her feet in the stirrups, adjusted her grey skirt, and
gathered the mare’s reins in her right hand. Straightening her
shoulders, she squeezed the horse with her lower legs and relaxed
as they walked out of the livery yard.

While she rode through town, Anna couldn’t
help but stare at the pretty white buildings they passed, some with
decorative scrollwork. Uncle Walter had said the white material was
called concrete, made out of lime that was harvested nearby. It
gave the buildings an unusual solid look and wouldn’t burn or rot.
That must be why so many buildings in the town were made of the
stuff. People called Seguin the ‘Concrete City’. There was even a
concrete wall around the town.

As soon as she passed through the city gate,
Anna urged the mare into a trot then a rocking canter. She reveled
in the breeze playing across her face and the gentle rhythm of the
horse beneath her. The bay mare was an older horse, but Anna
settled into the ride like coming home.

Even though they’d lived in the city growing
up, every Saturday Papa would rent three horses from the livery and
he, Edward, and Anna, would go for a ride through the plantation
country around Columbia. Anna smiled as she pictured Pepper, the
black and white paint mare the livery owner had always saved for
her. Pepper had been a small horse but quick and a high-stepper.
Over the years, she’d helped Anna develop a solid seat and sit a
canter with confidence.

After loping for about fifteen minutes, Anna
reined the mare back to a walk. A grin stretched across her face.
Even remembering where she was headed couldn’t steal the pleasure
from this moment.

After Edward’s news of his new job, Anna had
spent many hours in prayer as she went about her daily work,
beseeching God for guidance in the situation. He’d not sent any
miraculous signs or changed Edward’s mind, so it seemed the only
thing she could do was to ride out to the ranch herself and reason
with Mr. O’Brien. Surely when he understood how young and
inexperienced Edward was, he would override his foreman’s decision
and fire Edward before he even began to work. Since Edward was to
start on Monday—just two days away—time was of the essence.

Too soon, Anna reached the cedar post which
held a sign that read
Double Rocking B Ranch
, just like the
directions Mr. Tucker from the livery had given her. She halted the
mare at the post and gazed down the dusty wagon ruts that led to a
ranch house and outbuildings. From this distance, it was hard to
make out details. No sign of people, but several animals milled
about in the corrals near the barn. Anna inhaled a deep breath and
let it out, then squared her shoulders and squeezed the mare into a
jog.
Might as well get this over with.

As Anna neared the two-story log house, she
marveled at how impressive it looked with its wrap-around porch and
glass windows across the front. The structure wasn’t as large as
the plantation homes back in South Carolina, but it had a rich,
masculine look that was comfortable.

Anna scanned the yard. Where was everyone?
She dismounted, looped the reins around a hitching rail, and stared
at the wooden door to the house. The nerves in her stomach knotted
tight. She would have to knock on that door. No problem, though.
She would do it for Edward.

Straightening her spine, Anna marched up the
stairs, across the porch, and rapped her knuckles on the wood
before she could second-guess herself. Within seconds, the door
opened and a petite woman with red and grey hair eyed her.

“Well, sakes alive. Come in, come in,
lassie.”

Before Anna could introduce herself, the
older woman wrapped a strong hand around Anna’s upper arm and
pulled her inside the house. A delicious aroma tickled Anna’s nose
as the woman led her into a large parlor with a magnificent stone
fireplace covering most of one wall. The furniture was rugged but
striking, with firm, clean lines and masculine fabrics.

“Why we haven’t had such a lovely visitor in
ages. Ya must come in and sit a spell. I’m Lola O’Brien, but please
call me Aunt Lola. And who be you?” The woman spoke in a heavy
Irish brogue, but the accent didn’t disguise the kindness in her
tone.

“I’m Anna Stewart—”

“Stewart, ya say?” Mrs. O’Brien interrupted
with a twinkle in her blue eyes. “Are your folks from the old
country? I knew I liked you for a reason.”

The woman’s grin sent a warmth through Anna.
“My grandfather was born in Ireland, but his parents came to South
Carolina when he was a boy. Our family has lived there ever since,
until recently.”

“Aye. Well it’s a pleasure, it is, to share
your company. Ya must sit down and make ya’self at home while I get
us some tea.”

The older woman turned and started out of
the room, but Anna spoke quickly. “No, please.” Mrs. O’Brien looked
back with a question on her face. Summoning her courage, Anna
began, “I...I came to speak with Mr. O’Brien about an important
matter. Is he home?”

“Nay, Marty’s out checking on the men in the
south pasture, but I expect he’ll be back soon. He didn’t take a
lunch, so I’m believin’ his stomach will bring him back straight
away.” The twinkle in her eyes was contagious, and Anna squelched a
chuckle. “Now sit ye down and I’ll be back in a jif.”

As the woman disappeared around the corner,
Anna eased herself down onto a sturdy-looking sofa and clasped her
hands in her lap. The small, spunky Irish woman’s assertive
kindness had caught Anna off guard, but she couldn’t be deterred
from the reason she had come. The minute Mr. O’Brien returned, she
would discuss her business and leave.

Anna’s nerves began to settle, and she
smoothed a hand over her skirt. Mrs. O’Brien’s voice drifted into
the room even before she appeared in the doorway with a cup in each
hand. “I put a drop of sugar in your tea. I be thinkin’ a lass as
sweet as ye wouldn’t have it any other way, but if you prefer it
without I can bring in a fresh cup.”

“No, this is perfect.” Anna accepted the cup
from the woman’s wrinkled hand. Mrs. O’Brien shuffled over to seat
herself in a petite armchair that seemed overshadowed by the large
pieces around it.