by West, Everly
Chapter 6
“Wesley is here,” Sybil uttered while looking out from where she and Jane sat on the front porch. “Could his horse go any slower?”
They watched as the horse ambled forward with the rider sitting tall in the saddle. The animal stopped to nip at green plants and Wesley looked up at the sky. Although it was comical, he did present a handsome sight. His large body was at ease atop the steed, his hat pushed down providing shade from the bright sun.
Jane shook her head. “It’s obvious our parents are pushing this. I’m not sure whether to pretend interest just to annoy him.”
“That would be cruel,” Sybil replied with a giggle. “Enjoyable, but mean-spirited.”
Wesley finally reached a location where he could call out. “Good day, ladies.” He touched his hat and directed the horse toward the stables.
“It’ll be another half-hour before he gets here. We’d best alert Mother,” Jane said. “She’ll be excited to welcome him.”
Sybil stood and scowled toward the road. “Why isn’t Thomas with him?”
“Probably because he’s trying to avoid a woman in ardent pursuit, who just happens to live here.”
Her sister’s eyes widened. “Do you really think so?”
Jane laughed as they entered the sitting room where their mother and Beth sat sewing. “I don’t, Sybil. I’m joking.”
“What are you talking about, girls?” Earlene looked up from her embroidery hoop.
Sybil pouted. “Jane says the reason Thomas didn’t accompany Wesley here is because I’m pursuing him too ardently.”
It was obvious their mother stopped listening after the mention of Wesley being there. “Wesley is here? For heaven’s sake, why didn’t you show him in?” She jumped to her feet, rushing to the front door.
“He headed to the stables, so I figure he’ll speak to Father for a bit before coming here. Or he may not come to visit. Perhaps he’s here on horse business.” Jane hoped the man did, indeed, leave after speaking to her father. She wasn’t in the mood to pretend interest in Wesley, who’d already told of his plans to go to California for a year or longer.
“Jane,” her mother said, assessing her from head to toe. “Shouldn't you be ensuring your appearance is perfect?”
“Mother, I am not in the least interested in Wesley Carlson. He is leaving for California. Besides, like I said before, he barely uttered a word to me on Saturday.” It was best not to mention that Wesley was probably the only one who’d seemed to notice her appearance upon returning from the garden.
“He is interested in you and it’s good manners for you to respond. When Eugene brought it up to your father that Wesley wished to call on his beautiful, fair-haired daughter, it seemed very genuine.”
Jane erupted in laughter. “Why in the world did you think he meant me? Beth is the one with the lightest hair.”
Her mother whirled from the door just as Wesley came up. “Oh, dear. Oh, dear.” She raced away as if a rabid dog chased her. “Beth! Come at once.”
“Is something wrong?” Wesley asked, looking past Jane. “Is your mother unwell?”
“Come in, Wesley,” Jane said, still chuckling. “It seems my mother is confused about something.” She threaded her arm through his. “So you’re here to call on Beth?”
He nodded and frowned. “I told father I planned to call on her after I returned from California, but mother took it upon herself to precipitate things and had my father speak to yours.”
“We do have meddling mothers, don’t we? Since coming up with the idea of matchmaking all of their sons and daughters, there’s no stopping them.”
Now that she knew he wasn’t interested in her, Jane could take Wesley in from a different viewpoint. He was the perfect match for Beth. He was quiet and serious, but easy to talk to. Not only that, but he was a tall, well-built man who fit Beth’s ideal. She always spoke of her dream to marry a man who could sweep her up in his arms and carry her for miles.
Beth couldn’t breathe. She’d admired Wesley, but had ensured to keep her feelings guarded. Admittedly, when they’d thought he wished to court Jane, her heart had sunk. But she was used to the fact that both of her sisters were much prettier than her.
“Mother, are you sure they didn’t mean Sybil? Her hair is just a bit darker than mine.”
“Of course not,” her mother assured her.
Beth almost laughed. “You were sure they meant Jane, who has dark brown hair. Father should have found out which ‘fair-haired daughter’ they spoke of.”
Earlene frowned and looked to the doorway where Sybil stood covering her mouth to hide a smile. “Oh, goodness. I suppose the only thing we can do is wait and see if he makes it clear.”
They were in the kitchen now, placing a pitcher of lemonade and glasses on a tray. Beth lifted a plate of cookies and smile at her mother. “I’m sure it will be clear. And if it’s me, then I would be delighted. I find him very attractive.”
Despite her calm exterior, her heart hammered against her breast as they walked into the room and Wesley stood. He looked only at her, and lowered his head in a polite nod before greeting her mother and Sybil.
“How are you today, Beth?”
Having to swallow before replying as her throat went dry, Beth hesitated. “Very well. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
He looked to the doorway. “Perhaps I can convince you to go for a walk?”
The room was silent, as her mother poured lemonade and her sisters sat ramrod stiff pretending not to be eager to hear what they’d say next.
Beth blew out a breath. “Wesley. Did your father mean me when he inquired for you to come calling?”
“Beth!” her mother exclaimed. “Of course he meant you.”
Sybil giggled. “Father thought it was Jane.”
It was nice when Wesley chuckled. “I was wondering why she greeted me at the door and not Beth.”
Everyone relaxed and began to pepper Wesley with questions on his plans to apprentice in California. It gave Beth time to relax and consider that, although Wesley was interested in her, a lot could happen while he was away. What if he met someone else?
It would be best to keep her heart guarded and not allow for deep feelings. A year was a long time and anything could happen.
“Beth?” Wesley stood and held out his hand.
When she took it, the warmth of it heated her cool one. “Yes, let’s walk.”
Jane sat watching her sister and Wesley through the window. They kept a polite distance but, at the same time, one or the other constantly leaned closer. It was early yet. Soon, they’d find a rhythm and become more comfortable over time.
What would it be like when Michael came to call? They’d already surpassed all boundaries for a couple just beginning to know each other. Rather backwards, to begin with the familiarity of a kiss and then get to know each other if one were to ask her.
The man was a rogue and had to be kept in place. Jane wasn’t sure she was strong enough as whatever he did sent any thought out the window. Just one look and she couldn’t stop from hoping for more than a polite touch.
Goodness, he wasn’t a good influence. A man shouldn’t affect a woman so. In her limited knowledge of men, it was enough to know that type of rake was what led a woman down the road to perdition.
“What are you thinking about?” Her mother sat across from her. “Spying on your sister?”
“I was considering the entire business of courtship,” Jane admitted. “It’s confusing to me that a certain man and woman are pulled to one another. Why is that?”
Her mother shrugged. “It’s the way of the world. I think each person has a partner, or two. And when they meet, it’s kismet. Supposed to be as it were.”
“What do you mean ‘or two’? Jane asked.
“Well, it’s not always a certain one person. It could be that we convince ourselves upon meeting someone we find attractive they are the one we’re supposed to be with. But then when the right one
comes along, no one else will do.”
Understanding dawned on Jane. Her mother meant Michael. Obviously, her parents wished for her to make a better match. At the same time, neither would turn a suitor away because of income status. Although her mother came from a well establish family, her father was born poor and had worked for every cent.
“I know what you mean, Mother. I can’t imagine any other man courting me than Michael O’Leary. I have considered some men in town and, over time, discarded one after another. Not him. He remains foremost in my thoughts.”
“Then we will see where it goes. He seems a good, responsible young man.”
“And very handsome,” Sybil interjected from the doorway. “If Jane wasn’t interested, I’d pursue him.”
Her sister pretended to swoon, making them laugh. “Speaking of which. I came to tell you that I just saw him come up the road. He is at the corral speaking to Ian.”
“He is? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Jane exclaimed and jumped to her feet. “We’re going for a drive. I best get my shawl and hat.” She raced from the room.
“That’s what I expected you’d do when Wesley came earlier,” she heard her mother call from the bottom of the stairs.
“Sybil, go see about more lemonade. And please don't tell me you have a suitor calling today because my nerves just can’t take it.”
From her bedroom window, she peered out to the corrals. Michael remained at the fence speaking with Ian. Something funny must have been said because he threw his head back and laughed. The men then shook hands in agreement over whatever they’d spoken of. It was good to see he was in good humor.
He removed his hat and held it next to his leg. The sun reflecting off the sandy brown tresses made for a delightful picture. Jane’s lips curved. He was definitely quite handsome and, in her opinion, overshadowed even the roguishly attractive Wesley.
As if sensing her perusal, Michael turned to the house. He looked toward the porch and then back to Ian when the man said something. Jane wondered absently what they spoke about and how long they’d known each other. There were always men talking to Ian. The horse trainer was well-liked and maintained an easy rapport with the men who came to purchase stock from her father.
Every horse at the ranch had been touched by the Irishman and, according to her father, he seemed to have a special gift. Even the most rebellious of their herd would become easier to manage once spending time with Ian.
She let out a breath and turned to the mirror. Her hair was pulled up into a simple chignon that allowed for a few tendrils to touch at the shoulders. Her modest short-sleeved, blue calico dress would be perfect for the warm day.
She opened her wardrobe and perused the contents, choosing a cream-colored shawl and matching hat.
With the items in hand, Jane took a fortifying breath as she heard her mother greet Michael downstairs.
“Don’t allow him to kiss you today,” she told the woman in the mirror.
Michael sat in the parlor, his large frame looking a bit out of place in the same delicate chair Wesley had occupied just a few moments earlier.
“Jane, you look lovely.” He stood as she entered.
Her mother gave her a warm smile. Jane tried to read her expression. It appeared her mother found something lacking. Then again, it was probably just her nerves.
“I was just telling Michael that your father plans to have him come out and inspect all the rifles at the ranch.”
Understanding dawned on Jane. Her mother was trying to prove a point; that they would have to provide some sort of insurance for an income if she were to choose Michael for a partner.
She gave her mother a flat look. “I’m sure it’s appreciated.” She turned to Michael. “I know you have more than enough business to keep you busy. Don’t feel as if you have to rearrange your schedule for my family.”
His lips twitched and she knew he understood the undertones. “I am expanding and hiring an assistant. My business is becoming much more than I can handle alone.”
“Oh.” Her mother’s eyebrows rose and she looked to Jane in hopes she’d have something to add.
Jane smiled. “How long have you known Ian, Michael? You two seem to get along quite well.”
Her mother sagged in relief and Sybil leaned forward. “Ian is very nice. He’s Father’s favorite. Like a son he never had.”
It was true. Often times, Ian joined the family for meals and he would go with their father to the study where they’d play checkers or just talk about nothing for hours. Once, when Ian had gotten ill, their father had spent the night in an upstairs bedroom sleeping on an uncomfortable chair, watching over the man.
It was endearing and they all indulged Ian quite a bit.
“He’s like a brother to us. It’s true,” Jane said.
“I’ve known him a few years. Often see him when he comes into town. We’ve eaten out and have gone hunting a couple times.”
An hour later, Jane sat next to Michael on the bench of his wagon as he guided the horse toward the open meadow. “I thought it would be nice to ride west. I’ve not been to that side of the area before.”
Jane studied him for a moment. So far, he’d not said anything once they’d left the house. “I’m surprised. You seem the adventurous type.”
“I can be,” he replied turning to meet her gaze. “You?”
It was a question she’d never considered. “I suppose I’m not. I rarely venture farther than where we met.”
“Don’t you wish to visit other parts of the country? See the ocean one day?”
The thought of Wesley going to California struck her as an opportunity for that. Wesley would see the Pacific Ocean.
“It would be nice. I’ve traveled a bit with my parents, mostly near here, once to Montana.” She smiled. “I would like to see the ocean one day.”
He nodded and once again kept silent. Jane was learning a bit about him. If he didn’t have something to say, or a reply, he was a quiet. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence and, in a way, they would learn about each other through how they handled times without conversation. Across the field, there was a patch of bluish, purple flowers and she pointed. “Would you mind stopping here on our way back? I’d love to pick some of those flowers to put in a vase.”
Once again he nodded, this time looking to where the flowers bloomed. “They’re pretty.”
“Yes, they are.” Jane couldn’t help but grin at him. “Are you usually this quiet?”
“Pretty much. I’m mostly by myself.” He turned to her. “Would you like to walk for a bit?”
“All right.” Jane steeled herself for when he’d round the wagon and assist her down. Just thinking about it, her breathing hitched and her pulse raced. Goodness, if she didn’t control her reaction, it would be Michael who’d be defending himself from her advances.
Chapter 7
Earlene followed behind Roscoe, the gardener, listening to him as he fussed about rabbits and deer getting to the vegetables.
“Honestly, Mrs. Earlene, I don’t know what else can be done. Those rascals are wily. Get into everything,” he complained, scowling. “All my carrots are gone. They didn’t have the decency to finish one before digging up another.”
She studied his familiar face. “I thought the fencing would keep them away. How did they manage go dig a hole under it so quickly.” She plucked a few carrots that had managed to survive. It would be enough for stew along with potatoes, which the animals hadn’t found as appetizing.
Even with his marred dark completion, Roscoe was one of those people one immediately took a liking to. When he’d come up to the house many years ago asking for work, Franklin hadn’t hesitated to give him a job. They’d never asked about his past. However, judging by the scars that ran across from his temples to his jawline, he’d been brutally attacked by either slave owners or strangers.
Despite his troubling past, he’d always been a hard worker, who’d been the caretaker of the gardens and the small liv
estock since arriving. Roscoe doted on the girls, who’d followed him as children pestering him with questions and requests to allow them to help feed the chickens or goats.
Over time, while spending time with him in the garden, Earlene learned about his horrible past. How he’d lost his home and wife in a fire set by hate-filled white men. He’d once asked to be paid for a month’s work, and instead been beaten half to death. And despite everything, Roscoe remained a good person. Never raising his voice and finding the good in people.
Often, she’d overhear him sharing a joke with Ian or Franklin, laughing so hard he’d bend over. Although he always refused to come into the house, he would sit on the porch with her and drink lemonade or hot chocolate depending on the weather. He and Earlene had formed a close friendship. One that develops after decades of daily interaction.
“What do you think about the girls’ suitors?” Earlene asked, bending over to inspect pepper plants. “Time goes by fast, doesn’t it?”
Roscoe huffed. “They could wait a couple years. Especially Miss Sybil.”
“Sybil needs more than a couple years to mature,” she agreed with a chuckle. “Franklin thinks I’m meddling. But Beth needs to get married. If left to her own devices, she won’t ever leave. Always more interested in books and notions than marriage.”
“She’ll come around, Mrs. Earlene, don’t you worry. As far as Jane,” he said, looking away toward the road. “Mr. O’Leary is a good man. A good man, mark my word.”
She wasn’t surprised Roscoe knew who came to the house. There was little the man missed. However, his comment still puzzled her.
“Why do you say that? Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t keep my daughters from marrying the men they choose. But honestly, a gunsmith?”
Roscoe chuckled. “He’ll keep her well protected.”
Earlene couldn’t help but laugh. “True, indeed.”
“Mrs. Earlene, a good man is easy to recognize. He looks one straight in the eye, has a firm handshake and remains humble.”