Ethan's Wild Rose Bride (Texas Frontier Brides Book 2)

by Mary L. Briggs

  He headed to the door, stopping to take his hat off the hook just inside. She followed with the pie tin and the lantern that she had lit. There was still a bare hint of light in the pink sky when they stepped through the door.

  She waited as he pulled himself up to the seat, then handed him the pie tin. It was then that she saw the folded newspaper on the seat next to him. Maybe Mr. Kane was already collecting reading material.

  ***

  Ethan gave a last stroke of the brush to Danby’s dark coat. “There you go, boy.” He scooped out a small bit of grain from a nearby barrel and tossed it in the shallow trough. “That ought to do you for tonight.” He pulled the stall door closed and secured it with a length of rope. His nerves were beginning to calm and breathing was coming a little easier. The conversation with Miss Bolton had gone better than he’d planned. Of course, it hadn’t hurt that he had been there to save her from the rattlesnake.

  His humiliation at not being able to read was pointless. Probably half the men in the surrounding area were unable to even sign their own name. He’d seen row after row of marked Xs in Wally Stoner’s ledger. At least he could do more than that. His mother had made sure of it. And he knew most of his letters. It was just the job of putting them together, sounding out the words that he’d never learned properly. There had been a time when he could put words to a sentence, but too many years had passed.

  Stopping at the wagon, he picked up the pie tin and gunny sack, still on the seat, and headed inside. The cabin was dark in the late dusk of evening and he lit a lamp, just inside the door. The old logs glowed in the softness of the light, and he headed to the small kitchen area.

  Stoking the embers in the iron stove, he threw in a few small sticks of firewood, and moved the coffee pot over the burner. When he was done with his chore, a nice cup of the dark brew would help him relax. Untying the sack, he pulled the snake onto the counter.

  Happy with his new prospects of learning to read and write, he whistled a tune as he began his task. This wouldn’t take long, and after the snake was skinned and fried, another piece of pie just might be a good antidote to his sleeping trouble. If not, it would be an enjoyable way to spend the midnight hour. Sometimes, anything was better than sleeping.

  ***

  Hallie stared out her window to the dark hill above. There was that lone light she’d seen night after night. A rancher like Ethan Kane ought to be tired enough to sleep like a newborn babe. What would keep a man like him up so late? A guilty conscience? That was what her father had always said kept folks awake at night.

  She sighed. A lot of nerve she had, calling the kettle black. She was up at midnight, same as Mr. Kane. Worries kept her awake. Ma had always said the worrying about your troubles did no more good than trying to catch a waterfall in a thimble. What was going to come, would come. And a person might as well face it.

  She took a sip of her tea and grimaced. All her thinking had distracted her from her warm drink and now it was too tepid to enjoy. She poured the amber liquid into an empty bowl and picked up the oil lamp. Maybe it was best to get back in bed and count some sheep. Or better yet, her blessings. The ranch would make its way, or not. God would take care of her, no matter the circumstances. No matter how many letters she got from Rob and Judith requesting money. It was time to explain that she had none to spare. Rob had sold anything of worth from the ranch and she had been left nearly penniless, save her money from teaching school for five years. And it was going to take all of what she had to get this place going at even a slow start.

  Chapter 7

  Hallie opened her eyes to darkness. What was that noise? She held her breath and listened. A steady bang, bang, bang sounded from outside the house. Throwing her shawl around her shoulders, she grabbed the loaded shotgun and began to make her way to the kitchen. Her bare feet absorbed the cold on the oak floor and she wished she had thought to put on her boots. Her hands slid along the wall, guiding her in the blackness. She was sure the sound was coming from outside, behind the house.

  The shelf clock in the parlor chimed four and she jumped, pressing her back against the wall, shotgun ready. She closed her eyes and steadied herself. A small, nervous laugh from her mouth sounded in the air.

  In the kitchen, she made her way to the door and barely pushed aside the curtain over the glassed window. A lantern light shone from the barn. The glow cast shadows on the wagon parked outside the structure. Ethan. At four o’clock? He was certainly a man of his word.

  She shook her head and turned to go back to the bedroom. Might as well get dressed and make the man some coffee.

  ***

  Hallie opened her back door to let the brown kitten out. Looking down, she saw her empty pie tin on the top step. She stooped to retrieve the plate and carried it back inside. Opening the oven, she pulled out the pan of biscuits and set it in the warming oven above the stove top. The bacon was finally crisp and she scooped it onto a plate. All that was left to make were a few fried eggs. Pouring coffee in a tin cup, she headed out the door. By the time Mr. Kane was ready to come inside, the eggs would be done.

  “Good morning,” she smiled, as she stepped into the barn. She stopped just past the door and watched. Unaware of her presence, he was sawing the end of a board. Probably one that was in a pile in her other shed. Rob had left so many chores undone on the place. The mess in the barn was only the beginning of jobs to be done.

  That was what came of spending all his time off on buggy rides and picnics with his wife. She couldn’t help but wonder how he was adjusting to factory life in Chicago. But since it belonged to his father-in-law, he was starting near the top. Maybe he and Judith would enjoy city life. And stop asking her to send money.

  Strips of pale morning sunlight flowed through cracks in the walls and landed on Ethan’s neatly combed blond hair. His sleeves rolled up, strong muscles bulged as he ran the saw through the board.

  At that moment he looked up. Hastily, he pulled the saw from the plank and put it on top of the stack next to him. “Did I come too early?” he asked, his blue eyes the color of the noon sky in the yellow lamplight. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

  Hallie felt her hand begin to tremble as her heart skipped several beats. Ethan Kane’s good looks and his friendly smile sent her thoughts scampering. She cleared her throat. “No. I mean, you didn’t have to come so early, but it’s fine. I thought you might like some coffee,” she offered the cup to him and stared at his long, strong fingers that took it from her hand. “I have some bacon and biscuits inside, and I can make you a couple of eggs.”

  Ethan took a sip of the hot liquid. “That’s real nice of you, Miss Bolton. But I don’t aim to be any trouble for you while I’m here.”

  She smiled. “Well it’s not trouble. I cook breakfast every morning, anyway. I just made a little extra.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Then I’d be much obliged. I could do with a short break. Just give me a few minutes to finish this board.”

  ***

  She scooped another serving of bacon onto Ethan’s plate, despite his objections. It had been a while since she’d cooked for a man, but it was easy to remember how much her father and brother had eaten. And neither of them were near the size of Mr. Kane.

  “You’re going to have me so full I won’t be able to work,” he laughed, reaching for the bowl of strawberry jam and slathering a spoonful over his biscuit.

  Hallie shook her head and sipped her coffee. “I won’t be making breakfast for you every day, but I think the first day of work is always an adjustment. And there’s no need for you to start so early.”

  He shrugged and stuffed the last bit of biscuit into his mouth. He grabbed the checkered napkin and wiped his lips. After a good swig of coffee, he spoke. “I have my own chores to do, too, so the earlier I can get started, the better.” He stood and pushed his chair back under the table. “Is my first lesson tonight?”

  “If you are ready, it’s fine with me,” Hallie said. “I have the books all picked
out,” she pointed to a small stack on the table near the parlor door.

  Ethan eyed the pile of books and nodded. “I’ll be ready. I need to finish what I’m doing out in the barn, then get back to my place for a few hours. I’ll be back after supper.”

  ***

  “Th-. . .the c-a-t. . . the cat. . .s-a-t. . .The cat sat,” he glanced at her and saw her eyes concentrating on the text. Her light brown hair fell over her cheeks and smelled of sunshine and soap. She was sitting close to him. Closer than he had been to a woman in years. Closer than was comfortable.

  Ethan pushed back the chair and stood. “I think that’s about all I can concentrate on tonight.”

  Hallie blinked up at him. “Are you sure? We’ve only been working,” she glanced at the clock, “thirty minutes. You’re really doing well, Mr. Kane.”

  “Well. . .,” maybe she was right. And if he was going to send off for a bride, it might be good practice to sit next to a woman. That was the way to look at it. Practice.

  He sighed and pulled the chair back from the table and sat beside her. “I guess another few minutes or so won’t hurt.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Let’s try the next line.”

  Ethan turned his eyes to the printed text and began to study the letters. Some of what he had learned was beginning to come back to him. The two years he had been able to attend school had been riddled with accidents, and illness. It started with his father falling from a wagon and hitting his head. The man was never the same after that. He began drinking and staying away from home, leaving Ethan to do a man’s job around the house.

  After a few months, his mother had taken ill. Some sort of fever that wracked her body for days at a time. And then, there had been Gilbert to care for. Two years younger and sickly most of the time. The bulk of the burden for the household had fallen on Ethan. It was a hard lot for a boy of eleven. But he was big for his age, and strong. Work was easy to find for a young man willing to work for pennies.

  “Mr. Kane?”

  Ethan jerked away from his thoughts. This was no time to get lost in the past. What was done was done. It was time to look toward the future. “Sorry. Where were we?”

  A grave expression crossed her face. “Maybe you’re right. You worked hard today. Why don’t we try it again later this week?”

  So that was it. He’d been dismissed from his first day of school.

  ***

  Hallie hummed a nameless tune to herself as she finished washing the coffee cups she and Ethan. . .she had to stop calling him that, even if it was just in her head. She and Mr. Kane had used.

  He had done well tonight. However much schooling was in his past, he had retained what there was of it. She hadn’t said anything to him, but it was obvious that he was a fast learner and would be reading and writing soon. Tonight, following along as he read, had forced her to realize how much she missed teaching school, watching the children’s faces the first time they wrote their name on a slate, or read a sentence.

  She would find herself giving longing glances to the school house whenever she was in town doing her shopping. Remembering their sweet faces, the silly rhymes they chanted at recess. The charm of bright shiny lunch tins set on the schoolhouse shelf every morning.

  Of course, she’d had to put up with garter snakes in her desk drawer, and frogs leaping out of boxes, but it had been worth it to see the expressions on their faces the first time they realized they were really learning.

  But it didn’t matter. If this ranch that her father worked so hard to start was to stay in the family, then it was up to her. And some days, I just don’t know how I’m going to do that, Lord. If only Levi and Hank had lived through the war. They would be here now, running this place. But I know that You know what is best. Please, forgive me for doubting.

  Some days, it was a struggle, but she shouldn’t complain. Surely it was the Lord that had sent Mr. Kane to work for her. Not only was he a near neighbor with ranching experience, he didn’t want money for the work. It was a trade that she was more than able to manage, leaving her much-needed funds for other things.

  Chapter 8

  “I believe that this is everything on your list, Miss Bolton,” Jube Connor said, stuffing her purchases into a cotton sack. “I’ll carry this on outside for you, ma’am.”

  “Thank you so much, Jube.” The list that Ethan had rattled off had been long and she had feared that it would be expensive, but $3.45 was an amount that she could handle. There wasn’t much money left over from her sale of last fall’s hay crop, but she could manage until the new crop came in, without having to touch what was left of her precious savings.

  And Mr. Kane had mentioned that she might think about getting a start in cattle again. Rob had sold most of what was left of the ranch’s herd, giving himself the extra cash to start over in Chicago. It had its appeal, and she could sure use the money. But if Ethan Kane was only working for her until he could read and write, there wouldn’t be much point in Hallie investing in something that she couldn’t care for herself.

  “Hallie! Hallie Bolton!” a voice called from her left.

  Looking up the street, she could see Reba Barkley waving to her. Hallie waved back and started that way. Her new dress must be ready.

  Hallie stopped to look inside the windows of the new millinery before going inside Reba’s shop. She could do with a new hat and she seemed to have no talent for making one herself. There were at least three that she would be proud to wear. The natural straw with the pink rose buds, and the green straw with the yellow daisies. The last would look perfect with the new green dress that Reba was making for her. Maybe she would purchase that one after the hay money came in.

  A short walk down to Reba’s shop and she stepped inside and took a deep breath. Reba always had hot coffee and cinnamon cookies ready for whoever came through her front door. “Good morning,” Hallie smiled to the woman, already back at her sewing machine.

  Reba put aside what she was doing and stood. “I was just hailing you so you would stop by before you left town. I’m embarrassed to tell you that I don’t think I’ll have your dress ready for at least another week.”

  “That’s all right,” Hallie assured her, glancing at the dresses on forms. She walked to her own and stared at the creation. “It’s coming along nicely.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Reba said, coming to stand beside her. “I’ve just been overwhelmed with business lately. And, I’ve been keeping Maggie and Caleb’s little one some days while they tend to their cattle.”

  Hallie laughed. “Well, I know that’s something you enjoy doing.”

  Reba motioned her to the counter in the room. “Come over here and have some coffee and cookies. And you’re right, it’s no trouble to watch that sweet little boy. And let me tell you, he’s a fast learner. He’s already hankering to work my sewing machine.”

  Hallie took the cup from the seamstress and reached for one of the cookies on the Blue Willow platter. “You might keep your eye on him. Little boys are good at taking things apart.” As she had found with the well pump out back of the school house. At least the little renegades had left all the parts beside the disassembled cast iron contraption.

  “Don’t I know it,” Reba said, pouring herself a cup and heading toward one of the chairs on the opposite side of the room. “My two boys kept me busy when they were growing up.”

  Hallie followed and mentally scolded herself for her own words. Of course Reba knew about raising boys. And now all she had were memories of them, as both had been killed in the war.

  Hallie glanced out the window as she started to sit. A movement across the street caught her eye. “Do you know who that man is? I don‘t believe I’ve ever seen him before.”

  Reba stood and stared across the street. She nodded her head. “I met that fellow yesterday. He’s here trying to buy up any property that he can. Made me an offer on the shop,” she added, taking a bite of cookie. “For some reason, I didn’t like him much. Can’t put my f
inger on why exactly.”

  Hallie settled herself in the rocking chair and watched as the man went into the barber shop. “Is it only places in town he‘s trying to buy?”

  Reba shrugged. “He only arrived a day or so ago. Most folks are sending him on his way. The offer he made me sure wasn’t much. And like I said, I didn’t much care for him.”

  ***

  Hallie re-arranged the purchases in the bed of the wagon and tied the back closed with a rope. Someday, she would get the hinge repaired. Around to the seat, she was about to pull herself up when a voice sounded next to her. Jumping in a moment of fright, she turned to see the man that she and Reba had observed out the window. He was a small man, barely taller than herself. His dark hair dripped some sort of oil, staining the collar of his white shirt. He reeked of cologne, sweat, and cooking grease. It was hard not to shudder.

  “Good morning, miss,” he tipped his faded black hat. His dark beady eyes bored into her own.

  Hallie swallowed back the nervous fright beginning to boil in her throat. “Good day, sir.” What did he want with her? She didn’t own any property in town.

  “I believe that you are Miss Hallie Bolton. Is that correct?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath and stood straighter, making herself half a head taller than the stranger. It wasn’t often her five foot three inch frame topped that of a man. “That is correct. How may I help you Mr.. . . ?

  “Trevor. Malcolm Trevor’s the name.” He drew a small card from an inside pocket of his jacket and offered it to her. “I’m here looking for real estate. I understand you own a ranch out on Chance Creek.”