Rancher to the Rescue Read online

  It shouldn’t be pursued, anyway. There was to be no love between them. This was a marriage only to keep her family together. She’d seen her friends turn from independent women to simpering fools because of love. And Noah needed to keep his focus on his budding ranch. That was his love.

  For a moment, Clare felt her heart flip in warning. Yes, one moment of weakness could lead to a lifetime of regret.

  Oh, how she’d seen that in some of her college friends. They’d given in to the weakness of a soft moment, carried along by the romance of courting and the promises made by the men who’d set about wooing them. Those men had filled their silly heads with nonsense, and before long, her friends were married, plucked from college and placed in homes like indentured servants.

  Clare closed the back door slowly. One friend of hers had tried to return to college and her husband had pulled her registration and refused to pay the tuition. Then, in front of the staff, he’d dressed her down.

  She shut her eyes. That friend had allowed herself to be trapped and become a device used only to produce heirs and run a household.

  Clare stepped into the kitchen, feeling both regret and gratefulness churn like oil and water. Just now, Noah had wisely curtailed any folly. He’d remembered how their marriage was different, not subject to foolhardy affections that trapped womankind.

  A swell of resentment rose unbidden in Clare as she shook off the unsettling feelings. She should have had enough sense to nip that moment of intimacy in the bud. Instead, as he had before, Noah was the one showing wisdom.

  She glanced at the back door. Yes, she was resentful that Noah had been the wiser of the two of them, but at the same time, the notion of one tiny moment of intimacy would have been welcomed. A small bit of proof to show her she could care again after the loss of her parents.

  Never mind. She’d only be showing a dangerous vulnerability.

  In the center of the kitchen, Clare straightened her clothes firmly, the action designed to seal out any foolish attraction. But for one moment, she pressed her fingers against her forehead and shut her eyes. When she turned, her expression would be a mask of reserve and competence, she hoped.

  Tim and Leo were sitting in two of the four kitchen chairs, their expressions hollow and lost and incredibly sad. She steeled her calm expression further. Yes, she was here for them and only them.

  “What were you two supposed to do?”

  Leo looked down, and it was Tim who answered. “We were supposed to beat the horse blanket.”

  “And what were you doing?”

  “We were playing instead.”

  “Was that the right thing to do?”

  Tim looked down. Leo peeked up. “No.”

  “Why was it not the right thing to do?” she asked them.

  “Because we would be punished?” Leo suggested.

  Suppressing a smile, Clare answered, “No, because it’s dangerous to swing things around, especially inside. You scared Turnip, and he could have hurt you two, and Noah, very badly.”

  As she spoke, a shiver rippled through her. Things could have turned out far worse. “This is a lesson you two need to learn. I’m going to think about a proper punishment for your behavior. In the meantime, you two will help me make supper.”

  The brothers nodded, and in a moment of compassion borne of thankfulness to Noah for his swift action, she gave the boys a fast hug before dishing out instructions on what they could do to help her.

  The boys hugged her back.

  * * *

  Alone in the yard, Noah blew out a heavy, relieved sigh. The pain snaking through him was only a portion of the problem.

  Clare was by far the bigger issue. She had wanted the situation they were in, this engagement of theirs, even less than he had. Hadn’t she initially turned him down? And then, when she’d set aside her pride and finally asked if his offer still stood, and after he’d said yes, hadn’t she promptly burst into tears?

  The facts were irrefutable. She didn’t want to be married to him. He couldn’t blame her. He was too focused on his ranch, and to that end, his work as Recording Officer.

  He had earned that position fairly, through hard work, aiming for the job when the previous Recording Officer retired. It came with a decent enough salary to start his ranch. Being Recording Officer also put him in contact with a variety of folks who would have old horses and mules to give away, no longer wanting to care for them.

  He just wanted to save those poor animals’ lives. That was all, and enough to make him a poor companion for a vibrant woman like Clare.

  Noah rose, finding he ached more than he expected. He’d better get that liniment on him as soon as possible if he didn’t want to stiffen up like a dried leather strap.

  Standing at the open door of the stable, he glanced into it at the back door, the one that led into the paddock. It remained firmly closed. Being in the company of the two geldings out there, his and the Walshes’, should help calm Turnip down. Noah had hoped that bringing Tim and Leo out here would show the boys that living on a ranch wasn’t so bad.

  Would he be able to convince them now? Probably not. What just happened would make their moving out here in a week all the more difficult.

  Maybe he should just keep them here until the wedding. He needed to show them they had to get back up on the proverbial horse, so to speak. If Clare were to rent out her home, she’d need to pack up their belongings and prepare the house for tenants. She couldn’t do that with Tim and Leo underfoot and she refused to take time from work in order to do it while the boys were in school. That would leave only her evenings.

  He grimaced. Clare was so determined to be strong she wasn’t even giving herself time to grieve. He doubted she would welcome any suggestion to that effect.

  He opened the door and stepped into the kitchen. Tim stood on a stool at the dry sink, washing a few of the wrinkled potatoes Noah had set out on the counter this morning in order to use up. With sleeves shoved up, Clare had already started a fire and was now scraping carrots, while Leo collected the scrapings to toss into the garden.

  Everyone froze and stared at him. Clare set down her knife to pick up the liniment bottle she’d set on the warming plate of the large stove. Wordlessly, she handed it to him, and wordlessly he took it before walking into his bedroom. There, he pulled a face as he tested his shoulder.

  “They didn’t mean to scare Turnip,” a soft voice from his doorway said a few minutes later. “They feel bad for it, too.”

  Noah turned, cringing at the pain. Clare stood in his bedroom’s open doorway, her arms folded. “Of course,” he muttered, gingerly peeling off his jacket.

  Clare stepped over the threshold, arms extending, obviously ready to assist him. He held up his hand. “I can manage just fine, thank you.”

  She stopped. He noticed how she bit her bottom lip. He looked quickly away. “The boys were fooling around,” he added. “Don’t forget, Turnip was born feral and has had to deal with Burrows since he was captured. He’s not some mild-mannered dobbin. He’s also a stallion, and thankfully, my horse and yours have been gelded, so there’s no competition.”

  “Do you know how old he is? Will he grow anymore?”

  “I don’t think he’ll get any bigger. He had too harsh a life during his growing years. Or else his parents were small. We don’t really know.”

  “I don’t think any of us realized that. You have your hands full.”

  “I can train him,” he ground out. Once trained, Turnip could be sold and the profits returned to the ranch.

  Clare’s expression doubtful, she asked, “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Even to his own ears, the word sounded harsh.

  She lifted her brows. “What kind of experience do you have training horses?”

  “Remember how I said that my father emp
loys plenty of draft horses for transporting his shipments?”

  “Yes.” Clare glanced to her right, to something out of his line of sight. There were no sounds of mischief, but that meant nothing, he was realizing. She looked back at him, her gaze still assessing him. “You said something about how they do heavy lifting in your father’s factories. Why doesn’t he have machines to do things? I hear there are some good steam engines that move things around now.”

  “My father felt it was too expensive to convert the factory. Regardless, we still need the draft horses to move the shipments to market, and they need care. After my studies each day, and during every bit of free time I had, I was in the stables.”

  “Your father approved?”

  “My father didn’t know.”

  From the look on her face, that surprised her, and Noah felt irritation rise within him. “I wasn’t always the staid and boring person I am now.”

  She reddened. “I have never called you that!”

  “I’m focused, Clare. I want my ranch to succeed more than anything else.” Noah continued, “My father’s head groom was excellent with horses. He could get even the most cantankerous ones to mind him. He taught me how to handle them. I loved it in the stable. I felt...calmer there.”

  He undid the top button of his shirt. “Turnip just needs time.”

  Clare stepped closer, but remained at the threshold. “What if he can’t be tamed? I mean, if we bring Tim and Leo here, and that pony stays skittish—”

  “He won’t. As I mentioned, I can train him. Until then, Tim and Leo will have to stay out of the stable.”

  “Easier said than done,” Clare scoffed. “And the other horses and mules and ponies you hope to get? You want to run a rescue ranch. I don’t expect these animals to be pleasant and grateful.”

  “We will sort it out as we go.”

  Clare didn’t seem convinced. “Turnip has hurt you. You won’t be able to take care of him for a while.”

  “I have a part-time ranch hand. Turnip’s been on his own most of his life, so don’t worry about him.” Noah pulled a face. “It’s my own fault. I should have released him as soon as he turned. I just didn’t think he was going to turn that fast.” He grimaced, not liking that he’d admitted this fault.

  About to remove his shirt, he stopped and looked pointedly at her, expecting her to give him the privacy he needed to rub the liniment on his shoulder.

  She didn’t budge. “I came to tell you that Tim and Leo are upset. Can you talk to them?”

  “And say what? They shouldn’t have been fooling around, Clare. They need to learn to do as they’re told.”

  She blinked. Then, after she glanced back down the short hallway toward the kitchen, she whispered, “You know it’s hard.”

  Sighing, he came close to her. “No, it’s not. You’re the adult. You have a strong personality. You’re the one they must learn to obey, so you have to put aside your own feelings and be their parent now.”

  His shoulder ached, stung and throbbed, all at the same time. Right now, he didn’t feel like showing Clare how to be a parent, certainly not to those two ruffians who’d scared his only rescue animal and probably set back months of hard work he’d put into training it.

  He didn’t want to have to tell Clare how to step up and be the kind of parent those boys needed right now. But when he glanced at her, he saw her eyes welling up with tears and her chin wobbling.

  His shoulders sagging, he wanted to kick himself. Clare was as much an orphan as her brothers and here he was telling her to stop grieving and pull up her stockings. What kind of heartless fool was he? His injury was temporary. In a day or two, with the help of the liniment, he’d be as right as rain. Clare, however, would never be the same.

  “You said they might not be lost at sea,” she whispered. “You were the one who encouraged me not to give up hope. Now you are telling me that I may as well get used to the fact they’re dead and start being a mother to my brothers!”

  “You know I meant only until they return.” He watched her for a moment, then added gently, “Let me take Tim and Leo for a few days. They need to get used to this place, anyway, and you need time to pack up your things.”

  “Clare!” Tim’s voice rang down the hallway. “Leo just ate a raw potato!”

  Leo’s voice followed. “Tim says I’m gonna die!”

  Clare shut her eyes. With a sigh, she retreated from the threshold, and Noah hurriedly shut the door. His hand still on the brass knob, he blew out a long breath. The only answer was for him to take control and help Clare with the boys.

  But he knew perfectly well what would happen if he did. Clare was going to resent him. Hadn’t she already admitted that she resented her parents for abandoning them, even though she knew it hadn’t been their intention? And hadn’t she said that she didn’t like that he was the one showing wisdom with his suggestions? That resentment she was sure to feel would fester, until that one day she fought back and hurt those around her.

  Resentment was never a good way to start a marriage, not even one in name only.

  Chapter Seven

  By the time supper was over, Clare knew she needed to face the facts. If she were to rent out their home, she needed to pack up all her parents’ belongings. She couldn’t take time off work for it, nor could she get much of it done if she was to plan her wedding and watch her brothers. Yes, even children as young as Tim and Leo could help, but if she was facing harsh facts, she may as well admit that they’d be more a hindrance than a help.

  Noah was right when they’d spoken in his bedroom doorway. They were all going to move into Noah’s home, so the boys may as well do so now.

  She set down her knife and fork on the sturdy porcelain plate. Their supper was finished, and Clare knew now that the boys’ bellies were full they’d be more conducive to change. “You boys are going to move in here before I do.”

  Leo looked up, alarmed. “Why can’t you come?”

  “Because I’m not married to Mr. Livingstone yet.”

  “I’m not, either, and you’re making me move.”

  Clare suppressed a smile. She heard Noah snicker behind his coffee mug. He’d been silent throughout their meal, and she could only hope the liniment, which added a pungent element to the wonderful scents of fried beef and gravy, was working.

  “You aren’t gonna marry Mr. Livingstone, stupid,” Tim admonished.

  “Don’t say that word,” Noah told the boy sharply. “He doesn’t understand, that’s all.”

  “I do so! I’m smart!” Leo yelled. He smacked the table and flipped his empty plate, flicking about droplets of leftover gravy, for Clare had stopped him moments ago from licking his plate clean. She now grabbed her napkin and quickly mopped up the small mess.

  She was glad she’d found the napkins in the drawer. The monogram on them told her they had been left by the previous owners, but they’d brought an air of civility to the rustic charm of the kitchen. Now they were truly needed.

  “Leo,” Noah began, setting down his knife and fork, “only Clare and I are going to marry. You’ll be my brother-in-law. You don’t have to marry me to move in here. Just Clare has to.” Glancing at Tim for a moment, he added, “And we may as well figure out what we’re going to call each other. I think while we’re in Proud Bend, especially if you two are in the office, you should then call me Mr. Livingstone, but out here, which will be your home, you can call me Noah.”

  Clare eyed him as she dabbed the last of the spray of gravy. “Are you sure?”

  “We don’t have a typical marriage,” Noah answered coolly. “But we may as well make the best of it.”

  She flushed and looked down.

  “Why don’t you have a typical marriage?” Tim asked.

  Clare’s cheeks reddened further.

  �
�We have children. You two boys,” Noah said without a pause. “Usually, they come after you’ve been married awhile.”

  A smile rose unbidden to her lips. She was grateful for Noah’s patient words and equally grateful that the boys accepted his explanation. Perhaps, as in the boys’ cases, full bellies really had soothed their dispositions. She could only hope the pony outside had found enough grass to fill its belly and smooth its disposition.

  “Not many newly married couples have two almost-grown-up boys right away.” Noah smiled. “We’re proud to be different. You two boys make our marriage unique and special.”

  Leo grinned. Being younger, his moods were more changeable and easier to temper. But Noah’s kind words weren’t completely fabricated. Their marriage would be different. It would be in name only, with no expectations on either side.

  Oddly, though, the thought sank deep into her belly like a cold stone in a still pond.

  Why? Wasn’t that what she wanted? To be different? And Noah was a reasonable man, wasn’t he? He would understand and respect her desire to decide her own fate.

  And keep their marriage chaste. Clare recalled how close they’d sat on the bench outside, how his gaze had dropped to her lips before she’d realized how near they’d come to kissing.

  How much a part of her wanted it.

  Unable to shake off the sudden discontent, Clare began to stack the plates in the sink. “We need to tidy up the kitchen and get you two back home. And we need a plan to bring you both out here with all your belongings.” She shot Noah a fast look. “Don’t worry. They don’t have much. They share nearly everything except a few clothes.”

  Noah stood. “Boys, there is a box inside the cupboard in the living room that has some toys in it. Why don’t you see if there is something you’d like to play with?”

  They darted away, happy for the distraction. Clare smiled up at Noah. “Thank you. How did you end up with toys?”

  “They were left behind, like these napkins.” He held one up. “I think the owners returned East.”