Chapter Six
Harper’s Mount
Mid-afternoon, Tyler wearily made his way to the house after a busy day spent at the reservation. The stupidity of some white men astounded him. Why couldn’t they just stay away and leave these old people alone. Hadn’t they done enough damage to the tribes without bringing white man’s diseases to them. A measles epidemic was raging now. Three people had already died and twenty more were infected. The preacher and his wife had also caught it. Luckily, he had suffered measles as child when Joel brought it home from school and the whole family had caught it from him.
He scratched his beard. The day after tomorrow, he would have to go back and check on his patients. Not that he could do much except relieve the preacher’s mind. Thankfully, the worst was now over.
A piece of paper stuck to the door caught his eyes. He grabbed it up. The bold handwriting belonged to Joel.
I pushed an envelope under your door. Make sure you pick it up. Short and to the point.
Tyler stepped inside and sniffed the slightly musty air. Unless the door was opened now and again, the musty, earthy smell did become stronger. Not that it was strong enough to worry him. He’d smelled much worse. The odor of death and filth at the prison camp would never leave him.
Picking up the envelope from the floor, he took it over to the table. He would read the contents after he made himself coffee.
He cleaned out the cold ashes from the stove and placed them in a bucket standing on the hearth, then built the fire up. Making sure the coffee pot was full, he placed it on the stove. An early night would be in order.
Opening the envelope, he drew out a marriage certificate, the title to his ranch, and a letter from Joel, plus a hundred dollars in cash. Obviously, the estate had finally been settled.
He checked the title and was pleased to see his name written on it. Then the marriage certificate. So, he was married to a Ruth McNulty. Widow. Aged twenty-two years. Not that he really cared now he had his ranch free and clear. That burden being lifted off his shoulders made him feel the happiest he had since before the war.
Joel’s letter was next. Brief and to the point as always.
Tyler,
Here is your marriage certificate, which you will need when the time comes for you to get an annulment. You will need to see an attorney. Grenfell in Farnly Junction would do it for you. The cash is your share of the estate after Isaac and I took out the money we paid for the proxy bride. The ranch is yours. I have done all the work.
Just like Joel to rub his nose in it. It was true Joel had done all the work and his own contribution had been negligible.
Everything is finalized. You don’t need to do anything now unless you want to annul the marriage, and that will be up to you.
Joel.
It was a shame they were estranged from each other, well from him. It had mostly been his fault although they could have been a little more understanding about his plight.
He folded the paperwork and stowed it in a tin box he hid in a secret cavity under the hearth. It contained papers that were important to him. He also kept a few dollars there in case of emergencies. There was also a half full bottle of small nuggets of gold he had accumulated over the years.
After putting the box back into its hiding place, he drank his coffee and chewed on a stick of beef jerky. Suddenly, he wondered about this Ruth McNulty woman. What was her story? She was mighty young to be in a position so dire she would become a proxy bride. A money hungry hag, most probably. Maybe she had done it before, or planned on doing it again? Why should he care? The marriage had given him what he wanted.
◆◆◆
Rain pelted down on Ruth’s back. Water dripped off the wide brim of her hat. Thankfully, the second-hand slicker she had bought kept out the worst of the rain. Her back and stomach ached so badly she groaned with every step the horse took against the icy the wind. Would she ever find Tyler Dean’s place? The man from the town of Harper’s Mount had given her directions, but she was starting to wonder whether she had taken a wrong turn somewhere.
Through the driving rain she spied a wooden fence with a large sign bearing the words ‘Keep Out.’ Not much of a welcome. She had passed some flat sections of land that looked as if corn might have once been grown there. Would it belong to him?
She could scarcely believe anyone would want to live almost on top of a mountain. If she hadn’t been so desperate, and the horse she had bought from the livery stable laboring against the elements, she would have turned back. Without rest, her mount would never make it back to Harper’s Mount. Nor would she. The livery man had implored her to stay the night in town, but with her money running low, she dared not.
Over the last few weeks, she had traveled by train and coach to Colorado. It was too much in her advanced stage of pregnancy, yet she had to get away from Boston. Tyler Dean, her husband, was the only one who could give her the temporary sanctuary she needed. She had never in her wildest dreams thought he would live in a place like this.
The sky was so heavy and dark looking with the low clouds blanketing the mountain peak, it was hard to see where the two of them ended and started. Where was his house? She began to panic until she finally spotted a chimney sticking up from the sloping ground. Smoke drifting upward quickly disappeared in the clouds.
The wind howled. The fury of the storm seemed to be increasing. “Oh, horsey, what are we going to do? I can see a smoking chimney but no house.”
Squinting through the gloom, she let out a moan of shock on seeing a wooden porch covering a door leading into the side of the mountain. What kind of place was this? Surely the man didn’t live in what was virtually a hole?”
A little further away was a fenced area with a couple of horses standing inside a long, low building enclosed on three sides by split logs. Most likely a stable. It looked to be better than the house. She had never thought the riding skills she had picked up when she worked on a ranch would ever come in handy once she married Virgil and left there with him.
She glanced around, looking for a cow. Milking was another skill she had picked up. Hysterical laughter turned into a groan of pain. It would be cruel to leave the poor horse out in the rain. Better to tether him on the porch. It was not as if it had a floor on it.
“Come on, horsey, you can shelter under the porch. I have to rest then if Tyler can’t attend to you, I will.”
It was difficult to dismount without falling. It took several attempts before she accomplished the feat. Her legs trembled so much from the crippling pain in her back she could scarcely find the strength to drag off the saddlebags.
Tying the reins to the porch post, she staggered over to the door. If she could not get inside, without doubt she would perish in the vicious conditions.
The intensity of the howling wind increased a hundredfold, causing rain to pour down in sheets. Never in her life had she experienced anything as wild as this. Thunder ominously rumbled in the distance as her cold hands fumbled with the wooden cross beam holding the door shut.
“Open you wretched thing. I’ll die if I don’t get out of this weather.”
Finally, she got the door open and stumbled inside. On finding no one home, she didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry. The place consisted of one large room. She noticed this before taking off her slicker and hanging it on a nearby peg. Her legs collapsed under her and she crawled over to the fireplace, which appeared to be part of the stove. Shivering, she held her hands out to the glowing embers.
A wooden table was pushed into a corner. There was a battered kitchen dresser and in the far corner was a double bed. The blankets were pushed to one side exposing a mattress. She shuddered. What a way to live.
Cramping stomach pains almost crippled her as she straightened up. She had to lie down before she fell down and couldn’t get up. She grabbed a log of wood off the hearth and tossed it on the fire.
Stumbling over to the bed, she slipped out of her bedraggled dress. Wearing only her undergarment
s, she thankfully crawled into the bed and pulled a couple of blankets over her shivering body. Closing her eyes and stretching out fully seemed to ease the pains in her back and the cramping in her legs. Primitive though the place was, at least if afforded her protection from the enraged elements outside.
What kind of man was Tyler Dean to live out in the wilderness in a place like this?
“Some people say he’s queer in the head,” the livery man had said when she had told him where she had wanted to go and asked for directions to Tyler’s place. She told him she was his cousin rather than his wife, as he might not like that kind of news becoming public knowledge, especially in her condition.
She sent up a silent prayer to thank God for saving her from the savagery of the storm outside.
Chapter Seven
Tyler strode in from the cutting at the side of the house and skidded to a halt on seeing a horse tethered to his front porch. Joel would not lower himself to ride crow-bait like that. Who could it be? He regretted not carrying his Winchester now. Luckily, he had his hunting knife and he bent down and slid it out from the pocket at the side of his boot. He could and would use it to good effect if he had to.
Inching the door open, he immediately spied a wet slicker hanging on the peg. Glancing over to his bed, he saw someone in it. What in tarnation was going on? Then his shocked gaze alighted on a woman’s black dress hanging over a chair.
Stifling a curse, he stepped over to the bed and wrenched the blankets off, then hurriedly replaced them. A semi naked young blonde woman was in his bed. A very pregnant, half naked woman. He rocked back on his heels.
His shock was quickly replaced by anger. “What are you doing in my bed?” he growled.
The woman’s eyes flickered open. The color receded from her already pale cheeks, her pale blue eyes widening with shock. “Are you Tyler Dean?”
“Yes. Who are you?”
Ruth could not believe her eyes. This tall man with grey eyes as cold and stormy as the weather outside, glared at her. His dark wavy hair touched his shoulders, and he wore a full chest-length beard. He looked like a grizzly bear. Anger bounced off him in waves.
“I’m Ruth. Your wife.”
“Wife! Ruth!” Shock dilated his eyes. “That Ruth?” There was no softening in his voice. His expression was thunderous. “What are you doing here and in your condition?”
“I need somewhere to stay.”
He glared at her.
“Someone wants to kill me and steal my baby.”
“You expect me to believe a ridiculous story like that? Anyway, you can’t stay here.”
“You would turn me out in this storm? I’m your wife.” He must be all of six feet tall and looked even taller since she was lying down.
“On paper only. You got your fifty dollars, I got my ranch, and that is the end of it.”
“You have to help me,” she pleaded.
“No, I don’t.” He clenched his hands at his sides. His features became even harder, until he looked like a graven image carved from stone. “Whose baby is it?”
“My…my husband’s.”
“It’s certainly not mine.”
“No, my late husband. He was killed in a fire when I was about three months pregnant.”
“I’m sorry.” He tugged at his beard. “I guess you’ll have to stay the night here.” His concession was grudging. “It’s not fit for man nor beast outside. Where did you get the crow-bait from?”
“What?” She struggled to sit up and grabbed a blanket to hold against her chest.
“The horse.”
“I knew it was old, the livery man told me so, but he said it was sound and would get me here. He gave me the saddle for nothing.”
“I’ll go and unsaddle it and dry it off. It will have to stay where it is. I’m not going back out in that rain.” He swung on his heel and left.
Grunting with the effort, she maneuvered herself out of the bed and stood, wrapping the blanket around her trembling body. She had nothing to wear except the dress, which might still be damp. Luckily, the slicker had kept most of the rain off. Now that she had rested, her backache had subsided to only a dull ache.
Would he think her too forward if she put the coffee pot on? Probably, but she did it anyway. There was no kettle, so he obviously did not drink tea.
He was a well-educated man by the way he spoke, even though he was angry. What kind of man would live out here? What had happened to make him shun people?
Her dress was dry enough to put back on, and it was better to do so while he was out. After dressing, she folded the blanket neatly and placed it on the bed. The house—she wasn’t sure what else to call it—was warm. One of the walls near the bed was of shiny brownish-red stone. Other walls were made of split logs with a mixture of what looked like mud, straw, and sand wedged between the cracks.
At either side of the room were glass windows devoid of curtains. The hearth was made of stones. A lamp dangled on a chain from the ceiling at the center of the room. Another lamp sat on the table, and there was one on a shelf near the bed.
She checked the kitchen dresser and found two china cups. No saucers, but it was better than nothing. He certainly lived frugally.
She suddenly wondered what he ate and where he kept his food. There was a door in the back wall leading to she had no idea what, and dared not check in case he returned and caught her snooping. He already looked as savage as a meat axe.
On the kitchen dresser was a large ceramic pot with the word flour, and smaller ones had coffee, sugar and salt written on them.
Would he object if she made a few pancakes? She was starving. Maybe that’s why she felt lightheaded. She had just finished mixing up the batter when he returned, bringing in an icy draught with him.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I thought I would cook some pancakes.”
“I don’t mind if you can cook.”
“I’m a good cook. The coffee is just about ready, too.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m sorry, Tyler. I know I shouldn’t have come here, but I was desperate.” She gave him an abbreviated version of what had happened. “I’m sure I wasn’t overreacting.”
“I don’t think you were being fanciful. It’s a shocking thing to do, but I have read about similar cases.”
“Thank you, I’m glad you understand.”
“You still can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“Look at the size of the place. Then there’s propriety.”
“We happen to be married,” she shot back.
“Only on paper and it’s temporary. By the looks of you, you’ve only got a few weeks before you give birth. I’ll take you back into Harper’s Mount tomorrow. The weather should have improved by then.”
“I told the livery man I was your cousin.”
“Well, that’s better than wife, I guess.”
“Can you get me a plate. Save me waddling over there to get it.”
He brought two plates over. One had a chip out of it. “I don’t bother much with the niceties,” he said, following her gaze.
“You did once?”
“Yes, a long time ago.”
“Here, you have the first pancake,” she said.
“Thanks. If I were a gentleman, I would let you have it first, but I’m not. It smells good.”
He had been a gentleman once; she would bet her last dollar on it. Andersonville had probably ruined him, killed off everything except the will to survive.
She cooked two more pancakes and took them over to the table. “I didn’t make enough batter for any more.”
“It’s enough. We can have eggs and beans for supper. Sit down before you fall down. I’ll bring the coffee pot over.”
She sat down with a grateful sigh. The chairs looked to be home made, rough yet solid. Likewise, the table, except the top of it had been sanded down until it was smooth.
“Did you make the furniture?”
“Yes. There’s plenty of t
imber around here.”
He could say that again. They were surrounded by tall trees. It would be a deathtrap up here if wildfires came through.
“Do you have much cleared ground?” She sipped the black coffee. It was stronger than what she normally drank, although it was hot, which was the main thing.
“A few acres, mainly for corn and vegetables, if the weather is favorable. I often lose a whole crop if the weather turns too cold on me. I also run a few head of cattle.”
The pancakes were soft and fluffy, and she wolfed hers down, immediately feeling better.
“You’re hungry?” He quirked an eyebrow in query.
“Yes. I only allowed myself breakfast and supper on the trip here.”
“That’s not good for a woman in your condition.”
His words surprised her. “Probably not, but I had to conserve my money. Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you for any.”
His lips tightened slightly.
“What do you do to fill in your time at night?” she asked when the silence stretching between them became unbearable.
“I enjoy reading. I go to bed early and rise early. There’s plenty of outside work to do, so I only have an hour or so to spare in the evenings.”
“Don’t you find it lonely?” She placed her empty cup on the table.
He stared at her, a speculative expression on his face. “I don’t particularly like people. You’re beginning to look quite flushed.”
His observation surprised her.
“You better lie down for a while. Don’t go getting sick on me, will you?”
“I wouldn’t dare. Don’t worry, I’ll leave tomorrow without creating a fuss. I know I shouldn’t have just arrived here on your doorstep. Maybe I could find work in Harper’s Mount.”
Reluctant Proxy Bride Page 4