Rancher to the Rescue Read online

  “Yes, I remember the family moved back to where they’d come from. And thank you for being so patient with Tim and Leo. I wouldn’t know how to explain our marriage to them.” She piled up the dishes in the sink and walked to the stove for the full kettle of simmering water there. “You’re being so gallant again. I mean, doing so much for us and for no other reason than because it’s a good thing to do. It’s the Christian thing to do, too. I feel as though I can trust you.” She smiled self-consciously, feeling suddenly foolish. “It’s as though I can tell you anything.”

  Noah quirked up an eyebrow, forcing Clare to laugh nervously. “I didn’t mean that to sound so silly.” Her gaze turned pensive. “But it seems as though I don’t have a single secret from you. You’ve been so patient, while I have run the gamut of emotions, and ended up being resentful that my parents have left us in such a state. Yet, you’ve been a tower of noble strength.” She pulled a comical face and giggled. “Oh, I sound like a woman from those novels my mother used to read!”

  Despite her humor, his mouth tightened. “I haven’t done anything special.”

  “That’s not true.” After pouring some hot water onto the dishes, she set the kettle back on the stove before returning to the fine wooden dry sink. It had a drain hole, too, now plugged with a brand-new wooden-and-rubber stopper.

  Removing the wastewater was going to be easy. She remembered, as it was required reading at college, the late Catharine Beecher’s rules of the importance of good dishwashing. She shredded some lye soap into the water and set out the tin of wood ashes needed to scrub the fry pan. Then, praying the dish soap wouldn’t be harsh on her hands, she plunged them into the full sink.

  Only then did she turn back to Noah. “You’ve done plenty. Look at how much you’ve helped me and my situation. I’ve lost my parents and we both know I resented that they were more focused on leaving than what could happen on a dangerous sea voyage. And I’m upset that they’ve hurt me. It’s not right but it’s the way I feel.” She was trying her best to remain thankful, but it was hard. And she was grateful she could speak what lay on her heart.

  “Crossing the Atlantic isn’t that dangerous,” Noah countered. “Those steamships are the best made. They’re strong and sturdy.”

  Clare began to scrub the dishes vigorously. “Well, they can’t be that sturdy, can they? One of them is lost at sea.”

  “We don’t have all the details yet. They could have just lost an engine.”

  She forced in a deep breath to calm herself. “I suppose so, but I do appreciate all you’re doing for us.”

  Abruptly, she bit her lip. Noah worked full-time at the Recording Office, and she was sure most of his income was going toward making this ranch viable. Even rescue animals cost money. She’d seen him purchase a big sack of barley in exchange for Turnip. Keeping the ranch afloat until it was viable would take cash.

  But now Noah had a family to provide for. Her meager income wouldn’t help much. There were clothes and food to buy and lawyer’s fees and taxes to pay. There was a late fee attached to the mortgage now, as well. What if the rent she got from the house wasn’t enough and her income had to supplement those costs? Would she be forced to get rid of her home? She wasn’t ready to sell it yet.

  Her heart heavier now, Clare piled the dishes into the rack beside the sink before sprinkling a small amount of wood ash into the fry pan. With more effort than necessary, she began to scrub it.

  When the boys’ chatter suddenly grew louder, Clare glanced over her shoulder. Noah was already heading into the living room to check on them. She turned back, her attention darting out the small window to the backyard. To the left of her view was the far corner of the paddock. She could see Turnip standing with his back to the house. His ears were pinned back too far to be just listening to the others sharing his paddock. Even from this distance, she could see that he was still skittish, and no doubt resentful himself.

  Clare could hear Noah talking to the boys, asking them what they found. She bit her bottom lip. If she resented her parents for abandoning her and destroying all her hopes and dreams, how long would it take Noah to start resenting her for getting in the way of his hopes and dreams?

  I’m an awful person, Lord. Help me get rid of this terrible feeling.

  She held her breath, but no answer came. No wash of peace, or a hidden word of hope in her heart that could encourage her. Dejected at the reticence, she thrust the pan back into the dishwater to rinse it off.

  * * *

  The evening chores done, Noah helped Clare onto her family’s wagon, ignoring the dull throbbing in his shoulder.

  “You’ve been hurt. You don’t need to escort me home, Noah,” Clare announced as he pulled himself up by his good arm.

  “I don’t want you on the road with just your brothers.”

  “It’s still light out.”

  “But not for long. It’s a Friday evening and that brings men into town. I don’t want you to have to deal with them by yourself.”

  “And with your sore shoulder, you’ll be able to fend them off?” She arched her brows.

  “My presence will be enough of a deterrent.” He quirked an eyebrow at her as he flicked the reins. “Besides, you’re my fiancée now. I’m expected to look after you.”

  The grim set of her mouth, not to mention her primly folded arms, told him she didn’t care for his answer.

  Too bad. He was going to escort her home.

  It wasn’t far into Proud Bend, and having tied his gelding to the back as he’d done when they’d ridden here after work, he would be able to return home before dark. Hopefully, he’d be back in plenty of time to bed down both his horse and Turnip. Keeping his sore shoulder moving was important if he didn’t want it to stiffen up.

  “I’ll bring the boys up tomorrow afternoon,” Clare suggested. “That will give them time to pack up their things.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they’re clean for church on Sunday.”

  “I suggest you clean them up right after supper tomorrow night, and don’t let them play the next morning.”

  “Are they allowed to wash the dishes?”

  Clare lifted her brows and glanced behind her at the boys, who had been allowed to bring home a small toy each. “Yes. As soon as any of us was able to reach the sink on a stool we were helping with the dishes.” She sighed. “I guess I haven’t had the energy to enforce the chores my father laid down. Just don’t let them use too much lye soap. It’s harsh on their skin.”

  As they started down the road, he warned, “You can’t do everything yourself. What were the chores your father gave them?”

  “They had to sweep, help with the laundry and bring in wood.”

  He looked skeptical. “Can’t see them scrubbing clothes.”

  “They would just hang them up, and then fold them when they were dry. These last few days, I’ve found it hard to ask anything of them. I guess I was at college for too long. One professor believed children needed stimulation and mischief provided that. I should have stayed home and learned how to discipline them.”

  She looked resigned. “Instead, I went away and learned I didn’t want to be like some of my friends who were quite happy to have family shove them into the role of wife and mother to someone they thought was best for them.”

  He held himself as stiff as possible, trying to keep his face neutral. “What if those friends found a young suitor at school?”

  Clare laughed, but it was a short, harsh sound. “Ha! We weren’t allowed to talk to men! Not even on a Sunday after church, while the whole congregation stood around chatting. After supper, if there wasn’t anything official going on, we were expected to stay in the dormitory and do our assigned duties. After, we could sit on the bench out front, but only with two other women and only until eight in the evening. I used to think the rules the sc
hool board had laid down for Miss Thompson were strict until I went to college.”

  “Three of you on the bench? I imagine that curbed any misbehaviour, not to mention any young man sitting with you.”

  “It usually did. The rules were to be followed to the letter. Unlike that one professor, Miss Worth felt that discipline helped with our character.” She laid her hand over her mouth briefly, and her eyes watered. “But look at me now. Miss Worth would call me a coward.”

  “You’re not.” His tone was comforting in the cooling air around them.

  “I am. I can’t find it in me to force even the simplest chores on my brothers. So they become bored and get into mischief, even if it was supposed to be beneficial.” She blinked back tears. “Honestly, I’d make a dreadful mother.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. You’re just going through a difficult time right now. I am only helping you.” How could she think she wouldn’t make a good mother? She cared so much for her brothers and was so patient with them.

  Noah thought of his own family. Had he ever been a good son? Would he make a good father figure to Tim and Leo?

  His heart squeezed. He wanted nothing more.

  Except perhaps a different relationship with Clare.

  No. She wouldn’t welcome that.

  Meanwhile, Clare looked away, off toward the stretch of lowland and foothills. “I shouldn’t need you to ride to my rescue like a shining knight from some King Arthur tale.”

  “Because your mentor, Miss Worth, says you shouldn’t?” He attempted to keep the bitter edge out of his tone. “I think she was probably speaking in more general terms, and not to your individual situation. She wouldn’t be that unreasonable.”

  “It was her job to build character. She says we’ll need it in due time.”

  “Why? What’s going to happen?”

  “We’re a new breed of women, she says, and we’ll see great changes in our lifetimes, probably in the next century, but it’ll take hard work, so we’d better be trained for it.”

  “What great changes?”

  “Changes like women owning businesses, land, serving in the government.”

  “You can’t even vote,” Noah reasoned.

  She flared up, turning in the bench seat they shared as the wagon jostled them along. “That will change, as well, and I want to be a part of that, too. I even wrote to my parents about my plans and dreams.” She sighed. “Well, you know what happened. Father found the job at the Recording Office for me. He wanted to use my education. Don’t get me wrong. I love my job, but a part of me feels as though I’m still being pushed around by men.”

  “You work for a man. I don’t think that will ever change.”

  Clare went pensive, then deftly changed the subject. “I truly don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” she muttered. “And I know this is just as overwhelming to you as it is to me.”

  Noah gritted his teeth. Overwhelming wasn’t the word he would use. Exasperating, maybe.

  Yes. His parents had tried to force him to be something he wasn’t—like Clare was now being forced to be a wife and mother, something she wasn’t ready to be—in part because he’d thought of a way to fight back against his parents, who’d expected him to roll over like a submissive dog.

  Like Elizabeth had been, allowing her father to arrange every aspect of her future. She wanted all the comforts of the upper class to remain at her disposal and would do anything to ensure that.

  Noah felt another pang of conscience. Elizabeth had been his fiancée. He should at least tell Clare about her, but he wasn’t sure now was the right time.

  He flicked the reins to hurry the horse. So when would be the right time?

  Chapter Eight

  The next afternoon, as Clare turned the horse and wagon down Noah’s short lane, she struggled to throw off the uncertainty she’d felt since he had seen them home last night. Beside her sat Tim and Leo, both silent and still, as if they sensed finality in the whole affair. Behind them were a few boxes, hastily packed with the boys’ personal items.

  “I want you to do everything Noah asks of you, and not get into mischief,” Clare announced. “If it looks like fun, don’t do it.”

  “You’ve already told us that,” Tim pointed out. “Back at home.”

  “Two times!” Leo held up two fingers.

  “Well, it bears repeating.”

  “I want Ma and Pa to come back,” Leo complained softly. “I miss them.”

  He was sitting closest to her, and she pulled him into a one-armed embrace before kissing his head. He’d pulled off his cap the second he’d climbed into the wagon, and now Clare could smell the soft scent of both little boy and spring sunshine in his hair.

  It comforted her, although Leo remained stiff in her arms.

  She caught a glimpse of Noah walking around the back of his house, his dog at his side. He was dressed exactly as she’d seen a hundred other cowboys, with pants made from thick denim, wide suspenders and a sturdy cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had stopped when he’d heard the wagon rattling up his path and now stood tall and strong, with the sun glinting off his dark brown hair. The wind chose that moment to ruffle the wavy locks.

  Until now, she hadn’t paid the outfit a lick of attention, but today, seeing Noah no longer dressed in his office attire, she found it oddly appealing and felt a curious hitch of her heart.

  She looked quickly away, her gaze slamming into the house. The sun beat down on it, one logged side bright, the others dark and cool. As she drew closer, the sun glinted off one window. His home was much smaller than hers was and a thousand times more rustic, yet against the backdrop of Proud Mountain, whose peak was still thick with brilliant white snow, the log house’s charm welcomed her. Even now, she could recall the scents of supper and liniment as they mingled with the comforting smell of a warm fire.

  Soon, it would be her home. She’d been worried that the boys would hate it here, but it could have easily graced the cover of any of the adventure books Tim and Leo enjoyed. Surely they would end up loving it here.

  Would she?

  Noah took hold of the horse as she pulled up close to him. It had been an awful week for her, made worse by all the details she’d needed to see to, the appointment with the lawyer Noah had recommended, finding a maid of honor, packing and seeing the haberdasher who also acted as a real estate agent. The list went on and on.

  She forced a smile. God had given her this day and this man. She needed to appreciate both. “How is your shoulder?” she asked.

  Noah worked it slightly. “Much better. The liniment worked.”

  “And Turnip?”

  He pulled a face. “Not as good. He refused to come into the stable last night.”

  “Maybe he just needs a bit of time to get hungry or cold, then he’ll come in.”

  Noah said nothing.

  “The boys have promised to be good,” she offered.

  She watched Noah steal a glimpse of Tim and Leo, his expression skeptical as they jumped to the ground. They hadn’t really promised anything, but they hadn’t announced that they’d planned to act up, either, so she took what she could.

  “Clare, I wish things were different,” Noah said abruptly.

  Her heart plummeted. “What do you mean?”

  “Losing your parents.”

  “I can only take comfort in knowing they’re in the arms of Jesus.” Clare shifted, turning her attention to Proud Mountain. She didn’t feel any comfort, however. Too much anger and resentment lingered. Not very Christian, she knew, and yet, she couldn’t seem to shake the torturous emotions. When she looked again at Noah, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before they started to resent each other. Noah’s noble heart would eventually come to regret all the constant giving.

  The des
ire to end this engagement rose in her, but she suppressed it before blurting out the words. It wasn’t the wish for freedom that prompted the thought, nor the fear of more resentment. She looked down at Noah and knew that she didn’t want to destroy his giving nature.

  Where would that leave her and her brothers? The three of them would be separated. Clare would lose everything important to her.

  But to save herself at the risk of turning Noah bitter? She swallowed, and hated that her selfishness was winning.

  Forgive me, Lord.

  “Have you been able to start packing up the rest of your house?” Noah asked, his gruff voice ripping through her thoughts.

  She shook her head quickly. “Only the boys’ things so far. I have spoken to the haberdasher, as he acts as a rental agent. He said he’ll advertise in several prominent newspapers out East that the house is for rent, but he warns it’s a slow market right now. People want the land and since they are required to clear it and build on it, anyway, as a condition of acquisition, it’s less likely they’ll rent in a town.” She shrugged, pulling off her gloves. “But I’ll try. Some people might think differently.”

  “You should get your packing done as quickly as possible. You never know. Someone might want it sooner than later.”

  Nodding, she turned to the boys. “Remember what I said.”

  They both looked down at the ground. Clare had been away from them before, but it felt too short a time after learning about their parents’ disappearance. Her heart hitched. Should she tell Noah that Leo always insisted on a long hug and even longer prayer before climbing into bed? Such a delaying tactic might be viewed with a jaundiced eye by Noah. Should she embarrass both by insisting the routine continue?

  Leo looked up. “Will you visit us?”

  Her chin quivered, and her vision blurred with tears. Noah stepped forward and took a small bag off the back of the wagon. He handed it to Tim, then another to Leo. “Of course. It’s only for a week until we get married. You’ll see her tomorrow. Now, go into the house and put these in the spare bedroom. It’s the one with the green bedspread. That’s going to be your room.”