Rancher to the Rescue Read online

  Stiff-necked, his parents, mostly his father, had watched Noah leave them, not the other way around. They had gladly opened the door for him, too. Did they ever grieve for him? He’d certainly grieved that they’d refused to accept any wishes apart from their own. They’d refused to accept that Noah had his own dreams that didn’t fit into their plans for his life. His father’s plans, supported by his mother, who wanted only to maintain peace in her family.

  They’d forced him into a situation that became a secret no one should have to keep, he added to himself bitterly.

  Forget it. It was two years ago. Concentrate on the here and now. Clare needs help. She couldn’t yet deal with telling her brothers about their parents, not while she was reeling from the shock and certainly not while trying to figure out how she was going to keep their home.

  Noah’s jaw clenched. He wanted nothing more than to help her. But how? Offer advice? She deserved her dignity, and wouldn’t appreciate him telling her what to do.

  Clare, you need to let go of that pride.

  He straightened. She also needed help and he wanted to be the one who offered it first. “Can you rent out part of your home?”

  “To whom? Women usually stay with families. That would leave only men. Would you like me to board single men to earn extra money?” She rolled her eyes as she brushed an unruly tendril of hair from her forehead. It fell back into its vacated place once again, determined to misbehave. “Can you imagine my reputation then? Would that do the Recording Office any good? Or my job, for that matter? If the people of Proud Bend believed I was acting immorally, they’d demand you fire me immediately.”

  The idea of Clare opening her home to single men sparked a stinging moment in him. A jealous moment that had nothing to do with their office’s reputation. “Surely some women need a place to stay?”

  “The only single women of any decent reputation live at home or with a selected family.”

  A thump from upstairs drew his attention to the ceiling. He could hear the boys banging around and wondered what possible mischief they were getting into.

  He looked back at her as she wrung her handkerchief. “And if you can’t pay the mortgage?” he asked.

  Another bang from upstairs. Clare shot her gaze upward as her mouth tightened. “We both know what’s going to happen. I’ll lose this house. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. I could find a room somewhere, yes, but no one will take me with those rambunctious boys.” She sighed. “I appreciate your concern, Noah, but you needn’t worry. This is my problem and I will solve it.”

  With a heavy heart, Noah knew right then what Tim and Leo’s lives would be. They’d be sent to different ranches or hired by some unscrupulous mine owner to work underground. Orphanages were rare in the West because there was always menial work for the few boys out here, be it on ranches, in mines or on the railroad. If that happened, they’d grow up seeing neither Clare nor the other brother. And with their record of mischief, their discipline would be harsh. The bleak look on Clare’s face told him she already knew that fact and it cut her to the quick.

  Noah shut his eyes, hating to look at her expression. A surge of anger rose within him at the notion of this family being ripped apart.

  Compassion flooded in, wringing out the ire and banding his chest. He wanted to grab her, hold her tight to fend off the bleakness of her situation.

  Instead, though, he opened his eyes again and the most unexpected words tumbled from his mouth.

  “Marry me, Clare.”

  Chapter Two

  Noah stifled a gasp. Thankfully, he had enough forethought not to race from the house and thus insult the woman he’d just proposed to. But that didn’t stop him from clamping shut his mouth as he stared, aghast, at Clare.

  It wasn’t as though he was opposed to marriage. No, he simply hated the idea of marrying to appease a situation of someone else’s making. To subjugate a person so as to benefit another, as his father had tried to subjugate him.

  But he wasn’t naive. He realized that for centuries marriages had been proposed with financial gain in mind. He just didn’t want to be a party to one, especially the one he’d flatly refused two years ago. Greed, his father’s mainly, had birthed the idea that Noah, as his eldest son, should marry a woman whose family business could be merged with the Livingstone’s. The other family involved would get a secure future for their only child, a young woman whose sole purpose in life appeared to be to remain in the lifestyle to which she’d become accustomed.

  And, of course, Noah’s father would continue to rule all their lives how he saw fit, all the while expanding his wealth and power.

  No. Marriage for someone else’s convenience was more than distasteful to him.

  Resentment tightened Noah’s chest as he stared at Clare. He’d told himself years ago that he would not bow to his father’s wishes. He would marry only because he loved the woman and thanks to the scarcity of decent women in Colorado, marriage was unlikely to happen.

  Noah paused. Had that been an unconscious reason for choosing to go west?

  No. For as long as he could remember, he’d nursed a dream of building a special type of ranch in Colorado, one fed by the offer of free land if he worked it and filled it with livestock. In his case, horses and pack animals. They were as necessary as the railroad, yet many had been discarded, especially after the war, or left to turn feral and compete with cattle for water and food. As a result, ranchers who wanted no animals, save their own valuable cattle, to use their precious grass and water supplies rounded them up to sell or sometimes, if the horses got too close, they would shoot them. Abandoned horses and ponies didn’t provide the income that cattle could.

  He had often thought of creating a program to relocate these magnificent beasts, away from the competition for food and water.

  But for others that were caught, Noah knew he could rehabilitate them and other abandoned equine. The offer of free land given him would help. His job at the Recording Office would provide the funds to grow that dream. He’d even saved enough to hire a part-time ranch hand.

  His father had been furious that Noah had considered pursuing this dream, even if it offered a chance to become a Recording Officer, the youngest in the state. Eventually the promise of the job had been fulfilled and he had his dream ranch as well as a prestigious position.

  But in his father’s mind, if Noah wasn’t going to do his bidding, the fool son could leave and never return.

  That had been two years ago, and the angry, unfair threat still stung, just as the Walshes’ choice now stung Clare.

  Was that why he’d blurted out that idiot proposal?

  No. The idea of defying his father, even if the man wasn’t around, wasn’t his main reason to propose. He’d realized Clare was in very real danger of losing her family. And the boys, having just lost their parents, were in danger of being torn from everything they had ever known. Noah had proposed to help her fix her situation.

  But it had been a foolish offer and Clare’s expression right now proved she agreed with that assessment. She knew nothing of his reasons, nor was he going to explain it to her. It was just that she hadn’t considered seeking a husband, either.

  From upstairs, another series of bangs and thumps drew Noah back to the present. Clare’s brothers were definitely up to no good. Oh, yes, she needed a fast solution to her very serious problem.

  His answer had been to offer her marriage. And he—

  “No.”

  He frowned at Clare. “What did you say?”

  Her shoulders were pushed back, her jaw firmed and she snapped yet again, “I said no. No, I won’t marry you.”

  * * *

  Clare hadn’t expected to blurt out the first answer in her mind, at least not with such force. But it reflected how she felt.

  “Did you just turn me
down?” His brows knitted together, as if he’d misunderstood her. “Why?”

  She bristled. Did he not know anything about her by now? They’d been working together for six months. During that time, he’d heard her say more than once that she was never going to marry, but rather work hard and prove that women could be a valuable asset to any organization. They might even run that organization someday. If that had to come at the cost of staying single, so be it, for marriage was a prison sentence to a woman. It had turned out that way for far too many of her friends. Hadn’t Noah also heard her announce that fact on more than one occasion?

  Irritation continued to bubble through her. He apparently hadn’t listened to her at all. And what’s more, he looked genuinely surprised that she wasn’t groveling with gratitude. She lifted her brows and shut her eyes in one long, slow blink. “You heard me correctly. I don’t know how to say it any more clearly.”

  Silence fell like a stone between them. Noah finally shut his gaping mouth, only to open it and speak again, this time slowly and calmly. “Your brothers need stability right now. They need a father figure.”

  “They have a father. Even you thought it was premature to assume he’s lost at sea. Any number of things could have happened. My brothers and I have a father and he will be returning. Isn’t that the attitude you wanted me to adopt?”

  Despite her haughty logic, she swallowed. Her answer wasn’t the main reason for her refusal. She was certainly not denying the obvious, that her parents could be gone, but with the irritation still simmering within, she couldn’t help but contradict him with his own words. No, the point was that he hadn’t bothered to listen to her. Over these past few months, he hadn’t paid her words the slightest attention. She didn’t go to college and return to her hometown to give up all her dreams at the first faltering. Clare Walsh had a sterner constitution than that.

  Noah’s jaw tightened and his brows pressed together. “And if your parents don’t come home?”

  Clare flinched but refused to waver. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” She cleared her throat, knowing it sounded like she was denying the obvious possibility, but she wasn’t. She was simply being strong when she needed to be. “I don’t need anyone, thank you very much. I can handle this situation as well as any man.”

  “We’re not discussing the virtues of your gender, Clare, just your ability to keep going in your current state. You’re not going to make it.”

  She flared up. “I can and I will. I’ve already told you I can solve my own problems.”

  A deep crease forming between his brows—those perfectly shaped ones, Clare noted—Noah leaned forward, closer to her. “You don’t need to do this alone, Clare,” he said softly.

  Temptation tugged at her, and she battled it back with tight words. “Are you just saying that to ensure you have a good employee who’s ready to work?”

  Clare watched as hurt flickered over his features. It was quick, and disappeared as quickly as it appeared. But in its wake was a tight jaw with narrowing eyes. They were also brief as he schooled his expression. “Clare, I have only your best interests at heart here. Nothing more.”

  Did he? Clare was hardly a master at reading people, for her life here had been sheltered and college had seen more of the same. But for a few moments after his words, she wondered about their veracity.

  She should stop the suspicion. Of course, he would not want her to lose her brothers, or end up in the poorhouse. But still, was there something more behind his words? Clare wasn’t sure.

  One thing she was sure of was how his soft words and strong expression drew her closer to him. If she just leaned forward a mite and reached out her hand, she could brush his cheek, feel his warm breath on her face and revel in the deep attraction she was feeling right now.

  Pulling herself together against the nonsense, she stood abruptly. How dare he assume she’d fail and need his help! Then she marched into the hall, returning to the parlor doorway with Noah’s Stetson and coat. “I think you should leave. Thank you for stopping by. I will be at work as expected tomorrow.”

  Noah sighed and his tone softened further. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.”

  “I do. I need the money, and I obviously need to prove to you that I am going to persevere.” She would. She had no idea how, but she would. “Good day, Mr. Livingstone.”

  His mouth set grimly, Noah donned his coat and took his Stetson and his leave. Clare kept her gaze steady on the interior of her family’s parlor. Only when she heard the front door open and shut, did she cross over to her chair and sink into it with eyes closed against the tears that were already forming there.

  Lord, what am I going to do?

  Only silence answered. Stiffly, she rose and plodded into the kitchen. She bent to stir the cool embers in the firebox of the stove, knowing hot water would be needed to clean her brothers’ clothes. Not to mention needed for supper. She could hear the boys upstairs, the renewed bangs and thumps telling her that they were doing more than cleaning up. She’d get their evening meal started and then investigate the situation up there.

  In the pantry, she glanced around. For the last few weeks, she hadn’t had much time to shop for staples, leaving their meals sparse and lean. Today, as suppertime approached, she lifted the lid on the corned beef barrel.

  Empty save for one small scrap of fat. Supper would be biscuits and milk with the few winter vegetables she had left. She could braise them in that bit of fat. Then she would boil some eggs for the boys’ lunches, reminding herself not to eat any biscuits so they could take the remainder in the morning. Squaring her shoulders, Clare walked over to the small tea canister on the shelf at the entrance to the pantry. Mother always kept grocery money in it, in a small pouch under the leaves. She hadn’t had time to check how much was there.

  Her heart sank as the realization hit her.

  The pouch was missing. Father had taken it.

  A loud crash followed by a whomp and a riotous screech startled her. “Clare!”

  She raced upstairs, growing ever more horrified as the smell of burning kerosene met her nostrils halfway up. Tearing into the boys’ room, she gasped. Their small rug was on fire, the overturned kerosene lamp nearby fueling it!

  Yanking the half-dressed boys out of the room, Clare lunged for the lamp to right it, snapping back her hand before she burned it. She then grabbed the water basin, dumping it onto the fire. It sprayed burning droplets of fuel in every direction.

  She let out her own scream.

  She grabbed the boys’ bedspread and smothered the fire, falling on her knees to smack the last few errant flames beyond one corner of the spread.

  Reaching behind her, she poured the rest of the water from the jug onto the floor, the bedspread and the rug that peeked out beyond another corner. Then she scoured the whole room to ensure no wayward embers smoldered, crawling on her hands and knees the entire way. Satisfied there was no more danger, she rolled up the rug and bedspread to take them outside.

  Still on her knees, all she could manage was to drop her head. Thank You, Lord. Thank You for not allowing this to become worse. Thank You for keeping Tim and Leo safe.

  Only after repeating her prayer several times, in utter gratitude, did Clare look up toward the door.

  Tim and Leo were peeking into the room. Their faces were still smeared with dried mud. Filthy and anxious, they looked like they’d fallen out of their favorite Henry Castlemon book, the one where the boys chased a raccoon through a swamp.

  “You didn’t need to light the lamp!” she told them harshly.

  “I’m sorry. It was cold in here and we’re not allowed to start a fire in the stove.” It was the older brother, Tim, who spoke as he pointed to the small potbellied stove nearby. “Don’t get mad at us. Please?”

  Fighting tears, she struggled to stand, but
sagged again when she saw the section of her skirt below her apron was smeared with wet ashes from the burned rug. Her only work skirt was ruined. In fact, her entire outfit was soaked and rumpled, save the section protected by her apron. Clare whimpered when she noticed a burn hole at the sleeve of her blouse. She sank down farther.

  And looked at the floor. Although the damage was minimal, the black, scorched area would need to be repaired. How did one fix such a large scorch mark? Not to mention how much water had seeped down through the plaster ceiling below.

  Helplessness washed through her. How was she supposed to mind her two brothers when they couldn’t even be trusted with the simple task of cleaning themselves up?

  Clare dropped her head into her hands and shut her eyes. As she knelt there, she could feel her brothers creep in and sit down on the floor near her.

  One boy laid his head along her left side and gripped her arm. The other shifted in front and hugged her knees, dropping his head into her wet lap. Automatically, Clare reached out with her right hand and stroked his hair. The straight, silky strands told her without looking that it was Tim. Leo had the curly hair.

  “I miss them,” Tim whispered, knowing she would understand who he was talking about.

  “I know. I miss them, too.” When Clare heard one of them sniff, she fought to stop her own tears. She wrapped her left arm around Leo and drew him close.

  She’d told Noah that she couldn’t punish these boys. And still she couldn’t. She loved them. She understood them. She missed their mother and father right along with them.

  Sitting there until the damp seeped through to her stockings, feeling her hunger gnaw at her stomach and knowing she didn’t have enough food for a decent meal, she finally admitted to herself that one awful detail.

  She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do any of what she’d boasted to Noah a few minutes ago. Not by herself. How had her mother managed a house, battled crippling arthritis and controlled two unruly boys?

  Clare swallowed. Father had been there to help, taking time off work. He’d seen the boys off to school, given them strict orders to return home immediately after and had set out chores for them to do, all to help ease his wife’s burden. Clare had been away at college during most of that time, money no doubt spent on her when it should have been saved. When she had returned home last fall, she’d pitched in, even after taking a job as clerk at the Recording Office.