Western Spring Weddings

by Lynna Banning

  “Clara will be sorely disappointed,” he said. “She insisted that Mrs. King pack a sandwich for you.”

  “That was kind of her, but not necessary. I packed my own,” she said, “and will eat later.”

  “It’ll be dark later,” he said.

  She kept her eyes locked on the window. From past travelers, there were smudges in the soot that distorted the view of the passing landscape, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular. She was just trying to keep her mind off that sandwich.

  “I missed lunch,” he said, “and no restaurants will be open by the time we arrive, so I hope you don’t mind if I eat.”

  “Not at all.” To her embarrassment, her stomach growled loudly enough that the sleeping cowboy probably heard it.

  Chapter Four

  Dal smiled to himself. She was a stubborn one, but she was also proud. Whether she wanted to eat, whether she was hungry or not, shouldn’t be any of his concern. Neither should whether or not she did blame him, or at least his family, for the life she now led. Dal couldn’t be blamed for what had happened in the past. His mother had taken him out to the Alexander’s home so he would see that the men who had been hanged had families, just like they did, and that there were better ways to solve problems than killing people. She’d never believed in the vigilante lifestyle of those days. It had taken her life, too.

  The ham sandwich, which a moment before had been tasteful, turned to sawdust in his mouth. Damn it. Laws were laws, and people needed to obey them. Needed to understand the consequences of breaking them. Her father should have considered them before he stole his father’s cattle. Lester Alexander had died because he’d broken the law. And he and his brother hadn’t been the only ones. Being the largest cattle ranch for miles around, the Rocking R had been a target back then—still was—and it took a plethora of watchful eyes to make sure every cow carrying the Rocking R brand was accounted for at all times.

  There were far better ways to make a living than by stealing that which belonged to someone else, and why some thought that was an easier way to go about things, Dal would never know. He’d never understand why the children of such men thought that way, too. Tag Evert had found out the hard way that stealing wasn’t the solution. But only after he’d killed Dal’s folks. Dal had been part of the posse that had hunted the killer down. His bullet hadn’t taken Evert’s life, but he’d been prepared to fire. Protecting what was his was in his blood. And always would be.

  “I’m terribly sorry.”

  Dal looked up at the stranger standing beside his seat. “Excuse me?”

  “My cat,” an older woman said, pointing toward the fluffy orange animal sniffing at the checkered napkin on the seat beside Ellie. “She smells your food. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll fetch her.”

  Dal shifted his legs for the woman to step between his and Ellie’s seats. At the same time, Ellie reached down and scooped up the cat. Holding the critter with both hands, she leaned forward and touched her nose to the cat’s.

  “My, but you are a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

  The cat meowed in return, and the sound of delight coming from Ellie stirred something inside Dal. He handed the rest of his sandwich to the older passenger. “Here, it can have this.”

  “Oh, but I couldn’t,” the woman exclaimed.

  “Yes, you can,” Dal said. “I’m finished.”

  “Why, thank you,” she said, taking the sandwich. “We are going to Wichita to see our daughter and couldn’t leave Miss Priss home alone. Heaven knows what sort of trouble she’d get into.”

  “So you’re not only lovely, you’re mischievous,” Ellie said to the cat.

  “Mildred, you’ve disturbed these young people long enough,” an older man said, arriving at the woman’s side.

  “I’m just collecting Miss Priss, Henry.” The woman handed the man the sandwich. “This nice young man gave her the rest of his meal.”

  “Hoping you’d collect your cat and go and sit back down,” Henry replied.

  Dal silently agreed, but the glance he received from Ellie as she handed Mildred the cat instantly had him regretting the thought. He reached out a hand to the older man. “Dal Roberts.”

  “Of the Rocking R?” the man asked, shaking Dal’s hand. “Henry Krantz. This is my wife, Mildred. We’ve heard of you. Eat your beef regularly. Get it at Walt Smith’s place in Redville.”

  “That’s where we live,” Mildred added. “Redville. It’s quite a distance west of Buckley, but a nice town. A real nice town. Isn’t it, Henry? Henry here has a barber shop there, but he closed up shop for a week so we could go and see our daughter and her family.” Leaning closer to Ellie, she said, “Our granddaughter is singing in church this Sunday and we are going to watch her.”

  “Come along now, Mildred,” Henry said. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Roberts.” The man then nodded toward Ellie. “Mrs. Roberts.”

  She nodded, then quickly shook her head. “I’m not—”

  But Henry had already spun Mildred around and was saying, “I told you we should have left that cat at home.”

  “Miss Priss would have starved to death being alone that long,” Mildred argued.

  “She’s too fat to starve to death,” Henry answered. “Besides, she’s a cat, she could’ve caught herself a mouse or something.”

  “There are no mice in my house, Henry, not one I...”

  Their voices faded as they walked farther down the aisle, and Dal turned to Ellie. “I’d say Miss Priss already ate all the mice. That’s one fat cat.”

  “Miss Priss is about to have a litter of kittens,” Ellie said, pulling her gaze off the couple. “I do hope it’s not before we get to Wichita.”

  Dal couldn’t stop from turning about to glance at the older couple no doubt still discussing their cat. Twisting back to Ellie he asked, “How do you know?”

  The look she gave him, accompanied by a sigh, told him she wasn’t about to elaborate.

  “Poor Henry,” he muttered.

  “Poor Miss Priss,” Ellie answered.

  Dal didn’t feel the need to agree or disagree, but he did take one final glance over his shoulder.

  “Here.”

  Turning, he shook his head when he saw the sandwich still wrapped in the napkin that she held out. “No, that one is yours.”

  “I have—”

  “I know you have your own food, but that’s yours, too. Besides, I’m no longer hungry.”

  “You said you missed lunch.”

  “It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last,” he answered.

  She didn’t say anything at first as she placed the sandwich back on the seat beside her, but then, as she pushed it away from the edge, she said, “That was kind of you.”

  “Clara had Mrs. King make—”

  “I’m referring to the sandwich you gave Miss Priss.”

  “Oh, well, I’m just a generous sort of guy,” he said, half-embarrassed.

  She laughed as if truly delighted by the thought. “Says who?”

  He grinned and shrugged. “All sorts of people. Haven’t you heard that about me?”

  “Never,” she answered.

  Liking the sight of her grin, and knowing it would disappear if the topic didn’t change, he asked, “Do you have a cat?”

  * * *

  A part of Ellie wanted to tell him that people who could barely feed themselves shouldn’t have animals—it wasn’t fair to the pet—but instead she simply replied, “No.”

  “Dog?”

  “Not since Samson.”

  “Horse then? Pig? Sheep?”

  Flustered and a bit tickled by the teasing glint in his eyes, she said, “No, no, no.”

  “Ostrich?”

  “Ostrich?” she re
peated.

  He shrugged.

  His expression, full of mischief and wit, made his features seem softer, younger-looking. She fought the smile trying to grow on her lips, and said, “No, I’ve never even seen an ostrich.”

  “Me, neither,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Then how’d you know Miss Priss is...in the family way?”

  Still attempting, but failing to hold back a smile, she said, “It’s obvious.”

  “If it’s obvious to you, why isn’t it obvious to Mr. or Mrs. Krantz?”

  “Because they see Miss Priss every day, they haven’t noticed the weight she’s gaining is...” Heat flushed into her cheeks. This was not a topic of conversation for mixed company. “Why do you care so much about a cat?”

  “I don’t,” he said. “I’m just making conversation. It’ll be hours yet before we get to Wichita.”

  Ellie glanced toward Mr. and Mrs. Krantz, truly hoping Miss Priss didn’t go into labor within the next few hours. She shifted her gaze back to him. “There are many other things we could discuss.”

  “Like?”

  She opened her mouth, but an idea wouldn’t form in her head. Flustered, she sighed. “I don’t know. The weather?”

  “It’s Kansas,” he answered. “The weather changes at the drop of a hat.”

  That was true. Even though it was only the first of March, yesterday had been extremely warm, and yet today, the chill in the air had numbed her cheeks while she’d walked the hours it had taken to get to town. Following the direction of her shifting thoughts, she said, “You could tell me about Clara’s accident. Did the doctor really say she could become lame?”

  “Yes, he did. She tripped rushing down the stairs and her foot twisted beneath her. Luckily that was all that happened. She could have broken her neck.”

  “Don’t say such things,” Ellie said swiftly. Years ago she’d convinced herself that if she didn’t want bad things to happen, then it was best not to think about them. Or to utter a word concerning such events.

  “Well, she could have,” Dal said. “She tumbled all the way to the bottom. Good thing Doc was already out at our place. He’d stopped to see how one of our cowboys was getting along. Slim Marks had taken a nasty fall off a horse last week and broke a couple of ribs. Doc had just gone to the house for coffee with Mrs. King when Clara fell.”

  “The poor dear,” Ellie offered sincerely. Clara had been nothing shy of an angel from the time the two of them had met last summer. Although they both had known the other existed, they had never met until Clara, driving her awning-covered buggy, happened upon Ellie walking to town for a few supplies. Clara had insisted she get in the buggy, and after they’d both completed their shopping, had been just as insistent about driving her all the way home.

  Ellie’s brothers hadn’t been happy about that, but later, when the friendship between her and Clara had continued to grow, they had given up complaining. She figured it had happened much the same way at the Rocking R—that Dal had finally stopped insisting the two of them couldn’t be friends. Clara had never made mention of such things. There had been no need. Dal’s attitude, and the way he glared every time he’d see Ellie in their parlor, had said it all.

  “I do feel bad for her,” he said. “And I must admit, I’m glad you have become such a good friend to her. The ranch has been a lonely place for her. The opportunity to have friendships with other girls her age has been limited.”

  “Everyone in town adores her,” Ellie said.

  “That may be true,” he agreed, “but until she was old enough to travel to town alone, she had few opportunities to visit friends. Unfortunately, by that time, most of the girls she knew were getting married, or already married and having children.”

  Ellie took a moment to look beyond the man who had irritated her so deeply in the past to see one who genuinely loved his sister. It was clear in his blue eyes and on his rugged, yet overly handsome, face. The fact that Caroline Barnett had married Ed Mansel instead of Dal had confused many and had infuriated Clara. Clara insisted that she hadn’t wanted Caroline as a sister-in-law but had been very upset by the way the woman had tossed aside her brother for the much older and rather homely Ed. Ellie’s brother Daniel had said it was because Mansel had more money than Dal. She had never met either Caroline or Ed, yet she didn’t agree with her brother. Few people had more money than the Roberts family. Furthermore, some things were more important than money. Even she, who craved many things money could buy—like real floors and windows, and a full pantry—knew money wasn’t the answer to everything.

  “What is it?” he asked, frowning.

  She blinked and swallowed. “Nothing.” Shrugging, she added, “Just that you must sincerely love your sister.”

  “Of course I do. Don’t you love your brothers?”

  Ellie didn’t answer right away. She was attempting to figure out what made Dal so handsome. His dark hair was brushed back from his forehead and the ends were slightly curled from where his hat had sat upon it. There were a few faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, along his forehead and between his brows. They were more like crinkles than wrinkles, she thought, moving her gaze to the lower half of his face. His lower cheeks, upper lip, jaw and chin were darker due to the whiskers that he must not have shaved this morning. Or maybe he had and they were already growing back.

  All in all, there wasn’t one thing in particular that stood out, yet he was handsome. One of the most handsome men she’d seen to date. Then again, in truth, she hadn’t seen too many men.

  Tossing aside any further thoughts, for there was no telling where such lines of thinking could go, she said, “Of course I love them, and they love me.”

  “But...” he said expectantly.

  “But nothing.” She withheld the fact that no one in her family talked much about love.

  “Then why are you amazed that I love Clara?”

  “I’m not amazed,” she disputed.

  “Surprised then?”

  “Perhaps.”

  He grinned slightly. “Because an arrogant ass couldn’t love anyone besides himself?”

  She rolled her lips between her teeth to keep herself from speaking and smiling.

  He lifted one eyebrow.

  “You said it,” she said. “I didn’t.”

  Chapter Five

  By the time the train arrived in Wichita, Ellie had begun to think Dal wasn’t nearly as conceited and arrogant as she might have once assumed, and she also was very glad she’d worn her old, oversize coat. The temperature had dropped considerably. Although the porter had lit the lamps and the oil-burning stove in the back of the car, the heat it gave out couldn’t begin to take the chill from the air.

  She was also glad it was dark. That way the driver of the lush enclosed carriage that Dal had hired to take them to the hotel couldn’t see the shabbiness of her coat. However, the people of the very elegant hotel Dal escorted her into could, and she’d never felt quite so ashamed as when the clerk had looked her up and down with a scornful leer.

  It took Dal all of thirty seconds to be completely annoyed. Glancing at the keys the man held out over the large desk, he clenched his teeth. “I asked for two of your best rooms.”

  “I assumed that was for you and your sister,” the man said with a sideways glance at Ellie, “not—”

  “We’ll go somewhere else,” Dal interrupted, reaching out to take Ellie’s elbow.

  “No you won’t.”

  Dal let his breath out slowly at the sound of a second man’s voice. He shifted his stance to acknowledge the man walking down the main staircase.

  “You will not go elsewhere, Dal. This is the only place you ever stay in Wichita. What’s the problem?” Jake Reynolds, the hotel owner, asked.

  “Your clerk gave me only one suite,” Dal pointed out. The seco
nd key the man had held out had not been for a private room. Every hotel had cheaper common rooms with multiple beds, and he wasn’t about to have Ellie sharing a room with strangers. “We need two.”

  “I reserved the best two for you myself,” Jake said. “And I’ve just lit the lamps in them, knowing you were arriving on the 1917.” Rounding the huge desk, Jake elbowed the clerk. “Step aside Oscar.”

  “I—uh—” Astonished, the clerk stopped talking and dropped the keys from his hand into a wooden box beside the registrar book.

  “There’re two rooms noted right here, with your name on them,” Jake said.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Dal replied, giving Oscar the clerk a glare. Turning back to Jake, he added, “The train ride here was sooty and we both smell of kerosene. I should have been as wise as Miss Alexander and worn old clothes.” Why he had felt the need to create an excuse for her shabby coat, he wasn’t sure, other than the fact he didn’t want anyone else looking at her the way Oscar had.

  “They do need to do something about that train, Miss Alexander,” Jake said to Ellie, gathering up the correct keys. “I’m Jacob Reynolds, the proprietor of this hotel, and I sincerely hope the trip was otherwise enjoyable. Your suite does have its own bathing chamber for your convenience.”

  Ellie lifted her chin and an elegant smile appeared on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Reynolds, and the train ride was most enjoyable.”

  “Except it was very cold,” Dal said, fully aware of how Jake saw past Ellie’s ragged old coat to the beautiful woman beneath. He held out his hand for the keys. “We’d like to get settled in.”

  “Oscar, get their bags,” Jake directed the clerk before he turned to Ellie, dropping the keys in Dal’s hand. “If there is anything you need, Miss Alexander, don’t hesitate to ask. We are at your disposal and wish for you to enjoy your time here.”

  The blush on her cheeks enhanced her dark brown eyes, and the zip that created in Dal’s bloodstream had him silently claiming he must be more tired than he realized. She was an attractive girl, but beautiful had never been a word he’d used for any woman. Until now. And by the look on his face, Jake was thinking the same thing.