A Love Defying The Odds (Historical Western Romance)

by Cassidy Hanton

  Lucy thanked her and waited until the door closed behind Gertie before rolling on her side and reaching for a biscuit from the plate. She nibbled it thoughtfully, sorting out everything that had happened in these many weeks.

  Well, I’m not worse off than I was before, she mused, but I’m not sure I’m any better now, either. Until I know that much, I mustn’t decide on anything.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The following morning, Lucy got dressed and came down for breakfast as if it were the most normal thing in the world. She’d slept fitfully and at times had woken to find her pillow wet with tears, but she knew that holing up in an upstairs room like a scared rabbit in its burrow was no way to solve a problem.

  “Good morning,” she said as she entered the kitchen nook to find Matthew and his mother already eating. She met Gertie’s eye and smiled when the old cook winked at her for encouragement.

  “Miss Jones!” Matthew cried, hurrying to set down his tin cup of black coffee and rise to pull out a chair for her. “How are you doing today?”

  “I am… much better,” she finally conceded, returning his smile. “I hope it wasn’t too rude of me to not come down for supper, but I wasn’t feeling up to it.”

  “Not at all, dear,” Mrs. Miller said, patting her hand before passing Lucy a platter of cornbread wedges to go with the pinto beans and eggs. “We all need our rest and solitude from time to time!”

  The three of them ate in silence, a practically deafening avoidance that plucked at the back of Lucy’s neck. She knew she was the reason no one spoke, and it didn’t endear her to them, she feared.

  “Mr. Miller, if you have any time to spare today, I would like to discuss some matters with you,” Lucy began, lowering her eyes but looking slightly askance to see if his mother might have something to say.

  “Of course! I can make time for you whenever you wish, just tell me when it would suit you,” Matthew replied, setting down his cup again and waiting for a reply. Lucy didn’t answer, unsure of what to say next, but once again it was Gertie who came to her aid.

  “Miz Miller!” Gertie called. “I sure could use your help with some of these jars of prickly pears I have to put up today.”

  Genevieve barely looked back at Gertie before she answered, “Oh, I’m sure Susanna or Constance will be happy to give you a hand.”

  “Oh no, Miz Miller. They’re far too inexperienced for this kind of kitchen magic. It takes a seasoned hand like yours to make it all turn out right.” Gertie coughed lightly when she finished speaking, but Genevieve wasn’t understanding.

  “I’m sure they’ll learn very quickly,” she said, almost gritting her teeth as she finally turned for a moment and glared back at Gertie in the kitchen.

  “But remember last time how they wasted all the sugar and we had to let the preserves go to ruin?” Gertie insisted, coming over to stand behind Mrs. Miller and looking down at her intentionally.

  Genevieve turned to stare at Gertie and saw the fiercely determined look in her eyes. The cook’s gaze pinned her back and she stammered for a moment before saying, “Oh, yes. I remember now! What a mess that turned out to be. You know I’m happy to help as always, Gertie. Just let me finish my breakfast—”

  “There’s no need for that, I’ll fix you a fresh plate to take with you when we head out to the porch,” Gertie answered, reaching for the woman’s plate and lifting it from in front of her.

  Gertie marched off with it, leaving Genevieve to cast an apologetic glance at her son and Lucy before deciding to get up and follow her. Matthew stifled a laugh until his mother was gone from the room, and Lucy couldn’t help but smile.

  “I assure you, Miss Jones, my mother has the very best of intentions, even if she doesn’t know when to take a step back,” he explained.

  “I think she did rather well, all things considered,” Lucy argued playfully. “If it were my son and a young lady I barely knew at the table, I might be inclined to stay put myself!”

  “That was Gertie’s way of occupying my mother so you could speak to me,” Matthew said, his voice now somber and full of dread. “Whatever you need to say, Miss Jones, you’re free to speak your mind now.”

  “Mr. Miller—” Lucy began, but she stopped. She looked up at Matthew’s downcast face and said instead, “Matthew…”

  He looked at her suddenly, a hopeful smile playing at the corners of his mouth now that she’d called him by his name. An inexplicable surge of emotion flooded Lucy’s veins as well, a sensation that she was neither expecting nor prepared for.

  “Matthew, I’m very sorry that I behaved so strangely yesterday,” she began, but when he started to protest, she held up a hand to stop him. “No, I’m sorry, but I must say what I’d planned to say before I lose my nerve.”

  Lucy set down her fork and fidgeted with the cloth napkin in her lap, then added, “I’m at a loss as to what I should do. I thought that when you rescued me from town that all of my woes and worries were gone. You were… my hero in every way. Then when we arrived here, I thought I had a place in this world after all, one where everyone is so welcoming and doting. But yesterday, I realized that there are too many unnerving things still hanging over me.”

  “But I wish to help you resolve those things,” Matthew replied.

  “That is very kind of you, but how will you manage it? How will you revive a dead man and ask him what his intentions were with me? How will you ask the walls of an old cabin to tell you what they overheard when he thought of his scheme?” She paused, floundering for the right words. “How will I ever know that I am safe here when nothing makes sense?”

  Matthew was silent, and for the first time, Lucy realized she’d been relying on him to have the answers to these questions. She’d hoped to put her queries before him and have them tidily resolved, only it was not to be.

  “Miss Jones, my heart is telling me the most horrible lies, little whispers that say you wish to leave.” He waited for Lucy to argue, but when she did not, he continued, “As I promised, I will not stop you. I will provide for you to travel anywhere you like, as your happiness is what concerns me most. But I do think you could be happy here! If only you’d give me the chance to discover what is happening on my own ranch, I know I can make this right!”

  “But how am I to know that?” she asked in earnest. “I… I care for you deeply, I already know that. The man who wrote to me and the man who rescued me are one and the same in my mind, I am now certain of it. But how can I know that there will be no more trickery, and that no more harm may come to me?”

  “I don’t know!” Matthew answered, the desperation evident in his answer. “But please promise me you’ll let me try! Just give me the time to sort it all out, to inquire with the sheriff as to what he’s learned. That is all I can ask.”

  Lucy was quiet as she thought it over. Matthew had been everything he’d promised and more, and he’d certainly been generous and attentive to her every comfort. She nodded slowly before she answered him.

  “I’ll stay… for now. But if this carries on for too long, I will have no choice but to trust my own sentiments and leave.”

  “That is more than I have the right to ask,” Matthew answered, relieved. “And please trust that I am diligent about finding out who is behind this. Nothing is more important to me right now.”

  * * *

  “Miss Jones?” Matthew called softly as he passed his mother’s sitting room on his way out later on. Lucy sat on a sofa by the window, letting the sunlight hit the page as she read. “If you’d like to come out to the barn, I have something I think you’d like to see.”

  Please let her say yes, Matthew thought, plagued with worry for what she thought of him. Fortunately, Lucy looked up from a book she’d found and stood up.

  “Of course!” she answered pleasantly before smoothing her skirts and moving to follow. “But what is it?”

  “Oh no. It’s a surprise. It’s pretty much one of the rules of the ranch,” Matthew explained, smiling. �
�If someone tells you they have something to show you, then you can either try to guess what it is or wait for them to tell you. So which is it? Are you going to guess or wait?”

  “Hmmm,” Lucy replied, feigning serious thought as they headed outside. “I think I’ll guess. Is it a person?”

  “Nope!” Matthew said proudly.

  “A new book?”

  “No. Wait, why? Do you need some more books?” he asked, growing concerned. “Because there’s a shop not far from Salt Lake and I can—”

  “Oh no, I was only guessing. I suppose I’m just too ignorant of what to expect on a ranch, and so I can’t make a good guess.” Lucy smiled, genuinely trying to seem interested in all that went on at the ranch.

  “Well, luck is with you, because we’re here!” he said, pointing to the barn. “Take a look just over there.”

  “What is it?” Lucy asked, frowning. “I can just wait out here, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Matthew paused. He hadn’t thought she’d be too timid to enter the barn alone with him. It pained him greatly, but he couldn’t fault her.

  “Certainly!” he answered, wondering if he’d ever gain her trust. “You just wait right here. You can have a seat on that bale and I’ll bring it out.”

  No sooner had Lucy sat down on the rectangle of golden hay than she heard a strange yet pitiful cry of loss. Alarmed, she looked towards the barn door in time to see Matthew coming out. Behind him was the source of the awful sound. A tiny calf teetered on wobbly legs before snapping its eyes shut in the glare of sunlight outside the barn.

  “Oh, it’s precious!” Lucy cried, clapping her hands gently and smiling at the little creature. Matthew led it closer, and she reached out a hand hesitantly before pulling it back and asking, “Is it all right?”

  “Sure! You can pet it! She was born just this morning.”

  “Only this morning? And she can already walk around and everything?” Lucy asked, running the flat of her palm against the rough brush of hair above the calf’s eyes and marveling at the feel of it.

  “She sure can! But her mama left her. There were two born and this one’s a good bit smaller than she ought to be,” he explained.

  “Will she be all right then? Will she still grow and get stronger if her mother won’t care for her?” Lucy was already nervous for the tiny calf, remembering the years of caring for children who found themselves in nearly the same position.

  “We’ll do our best,” Matthew admitted skeptically. “They don’t always grow well and sometimes we have to make a hard choice. But we’ll see what we can do and if she doesn’t catch up to the others, we can always give her to a little farm that could use a milk cow in a few years. We’ll have to feed her by hand, though, and I thought you might like to give it a try? Feeding a growing calf can be a chore all on its own since they eat so much and so often.”

  “Oh, I’d love to do it!” Lucy cried. “What must I do?”

  “Here, take this lead and don’t let her wander off. I’ll fix her up a bottle and—”

  “Wait, did you say a bottle? Just like a real baby?” Lucy asked, laughing slightly at the image of cradling an animal as large as this one.

  “Of course! Seaborn went out to the paddock and milked one of the other mothers when we saw that this little bit’s mama wanted nothing to do with her. Here, I’ll be right back.” He handed Lucy the end of the rope and retrieved the bottle he’d poured, then showed her how to angle it to keep air from entering any of the calf’s stomachs.

  “Just like a real baby!” Lucy said again. “I had a few with colic at the schoolhouse over the years, and it seemed like nothing I ever did could take that hurt from their little bellies!”

  Taking the bottle from Matthew, Lucy laughed when the little calf lunged for it, nearly knocking her backwards. Finally, the animal found its way and in no time, it began greedily gulping down the milk. Lucy smiled at the needy little creature before turning to Matthew.

  “Thank you, this was certainly a welcome sight,” she said, still holding tightly to the bottle and lifting it for the calf.

  “You’re most welcome,” Matthew answered before coming to sit down on the ground and lean back against the hay bale beside her, watching the calf. “I think she likes you.”

  “How can you tell with a cow?” Lucy teased, seeing right through Matthew’s ruse.

  “Trust me, there are plenty of cows out there that don’t care two shakes for a person. They’ll run right over you on a stampede, kick you while you’re trying to cut ‘em loose from a thicket they’ve gotten caught in… why, I had one heifer actually bite me once!”

  “You’re teasing me,” Lucy accused with a laugh. “Cows don’t bite people!”

  “Of course they do! I’ve got a scar to prove it!” he answered, pointing to his lower leg. “It wouldn’t be polite to raise up my britches to show you, so you’ll just have to trust my word. Or my mother can tell you, since she did some of her finest embroidery on it to stop the bleeding!”

  They talked for some time, then broke out into a fit of laughter when the calf finished the bottle and sent Lucy sprawling backwards in her attempt to find more food. Matthew jumped up, worried that Lucy was harmed or put out with him, but she only laughed while plucking pieces of hay from her hair.

  “Well, I see I also have some lessons on manners and etiquette to impart to this little one in addition to feeding her!” she said, pretending to scold the animal. For its part, the calf only bellowed sadly again, causing both Lucy and Matthew to laugh.

  “No, I won’t put up with any of your backtalk,” Lucy teased, nuzzling the calf close to its ear. “You’re no different than any of the other babies I’ve tended all these years. Every last one of them was my ‘favorite,’ but still, they all had to study their lessons, do their chores, and eat their vegetables!”

  “That’s right, I remember you talked about them in your letters,” Matthew said kindly. “Do you miss them terribly?”

  Lucy nodded, smiling bravely as a tear formed in her eye. “I do. It’s an awful feeling not knowing where they are or what’s happened to them, I’m not going to lie. But it’s out of my hands, and all I can do now is remember that the Lord will watch over them.”

  “Oh, Miss Jones. I didn’t mean to make you cry!” Matthew said, chastising himself. “I was hoping to take your mind off your troubles, not heap more on top of it!”

  Lucy laughed and petted the little calf some more. “And I do appreciate it. It’s so kind of you. Don’t worry, this little darling has just lifted my spirits right up.”

  They talked a while longer, watching the calf explore the yard on the confines of its long rope. Lucy even chose a name for it—Butterfly, after the way it flitted around by jumping on its four feet instead of walking straight—and was surprised to discover they’d talked so long it was time to give the calf another bottle.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve taken all your time and wasted your day!” Lucy said, embarrassed at being the cause of Matthew not seeing to his work. Still, she didn’t want the moment to end. There was something about this carefree time, a feeling she’d never experienced before. She was still hesitant, but something about Matthew made her feel at ease… almost at home.

  “Nonsense. There’s never a wasted moment if it’s spent with you,” he answered without thinking, then cringed, hoping he hadn’t seemed too forceful.

  Lucy didn’t answer, but his bold statement sent a joyful shiver through her. Every last thing she’d feared about answering an advertisement from a stranger had seemed to be manifesting when she was first taken from the town. But now, this new feeling and new awareness of what a kind person was truly like, surely this was why men and women alike took such a daring risk in meeting a stranger.

  “Well, I think I should go in and see if I can be of help to Gertie in preparing supper,” Lucy said, holding out the end of the rope for Matthew to take. “It must be about that time by now. But Mr. Miller, thank you so much. This was a very happy
afternoon, and I’ll remember it always.”

  He reached for the rope and his hand passed over hers, sending a wave of excitement through her. She looked up at him and was struck nearly breathless by the kindness on his face.

  Before he could answer, Lucy stood up and hurried towards the house, ignoring the flutter in her stomach, her skin still on fire where his fingertips had just brushed against her hand. It didn’t do to become so attached to the ranch—or to its owner, for that matter—as it would only cause her pain should she have to leave.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The next day, the entire ranch was buzzing with excitement, but it only perplexed Lucy. When she came downstairs, everyone was moving at rapid pace, even Mrs. Miller, carrying this or that and piling up an odd assortment of items on the dining table.