The Wrangler's Mail Order Bride (13 page)

T
he next few
days flew by as Clara and the girls tidied up the garden and Hank worked with clients in the arena.

The first day, Maria had called Clara into the kitchen after breakfast, and Clara started to roll up her sleeves, ready to help with the dishes.

Maria laughed as she turned. “No, no, Miss Clara. The girls have their assignments, and this isn’t yours. I wanted to tell you that I will prepare a basket for lunch for you to take to Mr. Hank down at the arena.”

Clara stopped as the older woman pulled her apron over her head and turned to the kitchen window, busying herself setting dishes in the sink.

“Hank’s pretty busy. I—“

Maria turned from the window, her eyes misting as she wiped her hands on her apron. “You have brought fresh air to this heavy house. Things are changing, and no one is ever too busy for love.”

Clara tugged at her sleeve and tried not to smile at Maria’s vote of confidence.
Love…that would be nice
.

“Just be here at noon and I’ll have it ready.” She patted Clara’s cheek and began to hum as she turned back to the dishes.

Each day, Maria had prepared a basket for her to take to Hank. Now, as she strode down the lane with the basket of lunch on her arm, she felt a lightness in her step. The past few days had been a nice opportunity to get to know Hank as they had lunch together and sat out in the evenings, either on the porch or the patio.

She’d made no attempt to avoid Mr. Archer, but had noticed that he kept a wide berth of her. That suited her fine. She’d said what she wanted to say and just gone about her business, hoping that she’d made something—anything—better.

She passed through the stable, stopping to stroke the noses of the horses that came up to visit her, noticing that only those on one side of the stables did.

As she glanced to her right, she noticed the horse Mr. Archer had been riding the other day. It was quite tall and all muscle, and it hit the side of the stall with its hoof as its ears turned in her direction.

She shivered as she continued on toward the arena and rounded the corner of the stable. Hank was just waving goodbye as a father and small son walked out the gate, their horse calmly following.

She spread a tablecloth on the table under the tree and smiled as Hank walked up. He wiped his neck with a handkerchief, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and sat down on the bench.

“Thank you for this, Clara. I’ve come to look forward to it,” he said as he helped her remove sandwiches and potato salad from the basket she’d brought.

She poured him a tin cup of tea before she sat down opposite him.

“I’m so glad you enjoy it. I sure enjoy the company,” she said as they clinked their tin cups together. She enjoyed the cool tea sliding down her throat.

“I do, too,” he said, his eyes gleaming as he cocked his head and regarded her.

“I thought I might find you here.” Mr. Archer’s voice rang out from the stables as he strode toward them.

“Yes, Father. I’m giving lessons today again,” Hank said as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“Yes, I see. It would be much more helpful if you would assist in the preparations for the next cattle drive. It’s imminent,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.

“Pa, I know I agreed to continue…at least this last time…but I’ve made commitments to folks in town for training their horses. I need to finish up before I go.”

“This
hobby
of yours isn’t bringing anything into the ranch, Hank. We can’t have it continue. Your time is best spent on the trail.”

Hank sighed as he propped his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. “I’ll just finish up this next week and—“

“No, you won’t. You’ll leave this weekend.”

Hank’s head snapped up and Clara’s hand flew to her mouth as Mr. Archer turned his head away toward the horizon.

“Pa, you can’t—“

“I can and I will. You have three days. Ben has been taking your place while you’ve fooled around here, getting everything ready. But you’ll need to ride out with them and take charge of the horses.”

“Well, hello.”

All three of their heads snapped in the direction of the female voice near the stables, and Clara breathed out a big sigh of relief as Suzanne walked down to where they sat.

Her smile wide, she hugged Clara and said, “Hello, Mrs. Archer. I haven’t seen you since the wedding.”

Hank beamed at Clara but Mr. Archer visibly stiffened, pulling his hat further down his forehead and shoving his hands in his pockets.”

“Mrs. Archer? That’s…”

He turned toward the stables and strode away, leaving his thought unfinished.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Suzanne said, her hand on her chest and her brows raised.

“No, no,” Hank said. “It’s just Pa.”

Clara looked down and sighed. “He’s not doing well with his wife’s passing.”

“I see that,” Suzanne said, sitting down beside her friend.

“And he’s insisting I head out on the trail. This weekend,” Hank added, his brow furrowed.

“Already?” Suzanne asked, her mouth falling open. “But you’ve only just—“

“I don’t think he considers this a real marriage.” Clara twisted her napkin in her hands.

“Well, it isn’t, quite yet,” Suzanne said. “You two are still getting to know each other.”

Hank’s ears reddened as he busied himself in the basket. He pulled a piece of pie out of the basket, his hand stopping mid-air as he asked Suzanne, “Did you bring the twins?”

“Yes, I did. They wanted to stop and pet Regalo for a moment, so I—”

The loud neighing of a horse followed by a bang pierced the air and Hank set out like a shot toward the stable, the massive horse that Mr. Archer usually rode almost knocking him down as it ran past, followed close behind by two more.

“Clara, open the gate to the arena. I’ll find the girls,” he shouted as Clara and Suzanne ran behind him.

As she ran to the gate of the arena, Clara’s heart thudded in her chest, the horses rearing and neighing and running in circles all around her. She remembered what Suzanne had said, and for the first time felt frightened around them.

“They’re scared but not hurt,” Hank said as he ran toward her. “Suzanne’s with them.”

“Hey, Major, you settle down,” Mr. Archer yelled as he ran down from the house toward the commotion.

Hank had moved to the opposite side of the arena, speaking to the horses as they reared and charged at one another.

“Clara, go in the stable. It’s not safe here,” her father-in-law shouted as he passed her and ran to help Hank.

Her heart still beating wildly, Clara backed slowly toward the stable, the cries of Lucy and Lily growing louder as she neared.

“Are you all right?” Clara said, kneeling down to Suzanne, who had both girls clasped tightly in her arms.

“We’re sorry, Aunt Clara. They wanted out,” Lucy wailed.

“Ssssh,” Clara whispered. It’s all right. It’ll be fine.”

She stood and moved back to the stable door, watching in awe as Hank and his father took very different approaches to trying to get the horses into the arena.

As Mr. Archer moved toward one, yelling and flailing his arms, it would move away.

Hank, flanking the other side, moved calmly, quietly, and was able to slowly usher the horse he was closest to into the arena, where it ran to the far end and settled.

As Hank and his father closed the arena gate behind the last of the horses, Hank rested his arms on the top of the fence as his father turned back toward the stable, his hands clenching as he strode up the hill.

Hank took his hat off and looked after his father, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

“Are the girls all right?” Mr. Archer asked as he entered the stable door and saw Suzanne, Lucy and Lily.

“I believe so, Mr. Archer. Just frightened.”

“Well, good,” he said gruffly as he continued through the stable and out the other door, heading up toward the house.

S
uzanne walked
up to the main house with Clara as Hank led the final horse from the arena back to the stable. Lucy and Lily still trembled, Clara noticed, as she and Suzanne each carried one of the girls up the drive.

They set the girls down on the porch swing and Clara rushed inside to grab a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses. She opened the door, and as she set the pitcher and glasses on the table near Suzanne, Hank’s boots sounded on the porch steps.

“That was mighty scary,” Hank said. He took off his hat and hung it on a hook by the front door.

“It sure was,” Suzanne said, each of her arms hugging one of the twins tightly to her.

Hank crouched and smoothed Lucy’s hair away from her face. “What happened, girls?”

Lily grabbed her mother’s waist again, her eyes wide as she looked at Lucy.

“The horses wanted to come out and play.” Lucy buried her head in Suzanne’s lap as her mother stroked her hair and looked at Hank, shrugging her shoulders.

He looked down a moment, his elbows resting on his knees as he squatted, as close to eye level with the twins as he could get.

“They did, did they?” He smiled reassuringly at Lucy, who peered up at him from her mother’s skirts.

“I…I think so. They were trying to get out, so I thought—”

“We didn’t know, Mama. We didn’t,” Lily said, her eyes welling with tears again.

“I know you didn’t, sweetheart. Mama shouldn’t have left you alone in there, anyway.” Suzanne shook her head, and looked at Clara.

“Well, how did the doors to the stalls get opened?” Hank stood and sat in a chair opposite Suzanne and the girls, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward.

“Lucy said we should pull a crate over to be taller, so we could reach the handles. We didn’t know that the horses would be mad like that, Uncle Hank.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t have. But it’s not safe to let any horses out when there’s no grown-up around,” he said, reaching forward and tugging gently at Lucy’s braid with a smile.

“I’m very sorry,” Lily said, looking up into her mother’s eyes as she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

“I know you are, sweetheart.” Suzanne hugged both of the girls tightly, kissing each one on top of their heads. “Mama’s sorry, too, Hank.”

He laughed, taking a glance at Clara. “You all right?”

Clara sat in the chair beside Hank and poured two glasses of lemonade, handing one to each of the twins.

“Yes, yes, of course. I’ve never seen horses behave that way, though. It was quite frightening and I’m so grateful you were there, Hank.”

Hank glanced down at the stables, his face clouding. “So am I. And good Pa was there to help.”

“I have to say,” Suzanne said as she stole a sip of lemonade from Lucy’s glass, “it sure was different, though, how the horses behaved around you and your Pa.”

“What do you mean?” Hank’s brow furrowed as he turned back to Suzanne.

Suzanne shifted her eyes quickly to Clara.

“Hank, the way the horses reacted to you was very different than to your father. She poured a glass of lemonade and handed it to Hank.

Hank frowned and studied the lemonade, swirling it in his glass.

“I guess I hadn’t really thought of it that way. Not with horses that I haven’t personally trained. And those horses on that side of the stable—none of them are horses I’ve had anything to do with. They’re the hands’ horses and waiting to go on the trail. Except for Pa’s, of course.”

“You really saved the day,” Suzanne said. “I know that we caused the trouble, but what if you hadn’t been here? To be honest, I’m not sure your father could have done that, even with one of the hands helping.”

Hank sighed, gazing again back at the barn.

“I don’t know about that. Everybody seems to manage well enough.”

“I hate to see you go back out on the trail,” Clara said quietly.

“So do I,” Suzanne said, looking from Hank to Clara. “You just got—”

“We don’t want you to leave, either. Do we, Lily?” Lucy sat up, poking her sister.

“No, we don’t,” Lily said, scowling.

Hank sighed, his lips pressed together.

He shook his head and said, “I don’t want to go either. But unless I can convince Pa that it makes sense, that the cost of another hand on the drive would be okay, and I could be more valuable here, I’m afraid it’s going to happen. And soon.”

Clara stood and leaned against the porch railing, looking past the garden in front of the little white house that was now much more green, and onto the stables.

“Hank, how many horses have you trained here? Just this time, since you’ve been off the trail?” Clara asked, one eyebrow raised.

He rubbed the back of his neck, sipping from his lemonade. “Oh, I reckon maybe ten? I’m not sure.”

Suzanne perked up, her eyes wide as she looked at Clara.

“And I know of many more people who have wanted you to do it.” She sat up straight on the bench, Lily and Lucy perking up beside her.

“And you mentioned that you do it as a favor. Do you know that Mrs. Beckett said she wanted to pay you, and that others did, as well?”

Clara paced the length of the porch now, her heart beating faster.

“Oh, yeah, people offer to pay. But I don’t…I’ve never..”

“What if you did accept payment, Hank, even if just a little? Do you think there’d be enough people who’d do it to make enough money at least to hire a hand for the trail?” Clara asked, her eyes bright.

“I don’t know…”

“Well, I do, Hank,” Suzanne said. “Sadie said she gets asked all the time at the restaurant whether you’re home and training horses or not. Guess everyone knows you and Tripp are friends. Thought he might know.”

Hank blew out a deep breath. “I guess I’ve just never really thought about it. You really think it might work?”

His hopefulness tugged at Clara’s heart and she smiled, turning to Suzanne.

“What if we put an ad in the paper and see what response we get? That way, we can lay it all out and present it to your father. He’d have numbers to look at to consider it.”

“The editor of the paper is a friend of James. If you write something up, I can take it by on the way home. Maybe he could even get it in for tomorrow,” Suzanne said.

Clara turned to the door. “First, we’ll need a name.”

“Hang on there, ladies. Hold up a minute,” Hank said, holding his hands up toward them. “This is all happening a little fast, don’t you think?”

Clara and Suzanne looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Fast? We got married in just a few days, just like Tripp and Sadie. The restaurant went up in a week. This is just keeping in line with everything else.”

Clara smiled as she opened the front door, heading to the desk and grabbing paper and pen.

“Suzanne, what do you think? You’ve known Pa a while.” Hank pushed his dark hair back, his blue eyes watching the door for Clara.

“Hank, your Pa’s not been the same since your Mama died, you know that. But the Beau Archer I knew before that happened would have thought this a grand idea.” Suzanne leaned forward, patting Hank’s knee.

“Not to worry. We can make it work.”

Clara strode back onto the porch and sat down by Hank, tapping the quill on her chin.

“Now, all we need is a name.”

“Hank’s Horses?” Hank said.

Clara frowned. “No, no, not catchy enough. How about Hank’s Horse Training?”

“Too simple,” Suzanne said, drumming her fingers on the bench. “I know, what about Happy Horses from Hank?”

Hank laughed, his head falling into his hands. He looked up and said, “I’m not sure we’re going to think of anything. They all sound silly.”

“Hank’s Happy Horses,” Lucy chimed in and Hank laughed, clapping his hands.

“What do you think, ladies? I like that one,” Hank said, clapping his hands and nodding his head slightly toward Lucy.

They all agreed, and Clara quickly wrote out an ad for Suzanne to take to the
Tombstone Epitaph
.

As Suzanne and the twins turned their buggy down the drive, Hank took Clara’s hand and turned her toward him.

“I want you to know that whether or not this works out, I really appreciate you believing in me. I haven’t felt like that for a long time,” he said as he peered down at her, his eyes soft.

She lifted her chin up toward him and placed her hand on his cheek.

“I’m glad, Hank. Everybody needs to be believed in. Supported. Loved. It’s a good thing.”

He took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“Yes, I’m beginning to see that,” he said as he leaned closer to her.

Rosemary poked her head out the front door and said, “Hank, Maria asked if you’d bring up some wood for the stove so she can start supper.”

They pulled away from each other and Hank cleared his throat.

“Sure. Tell her I’ll bring it right up.”

Clara noticed Hank’s ears redden before he was able to pull his hat down over them. She smiled behind her hand.

“You know, Hank, there’s really nothing to be shy about. We are married, after all.”

Hank turned quickly to her, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

He lifted his hat off, took two strides toward her and kissed her on her cheek, quick and soft. Her heart fluttered as he nodded at her and headed down to the wood pile, whistling one of his favorite tunes.