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

by Mary L. Briggs

  She nodded and walked to the wagon, tilting her head to look at him. “Sounds like a good idea.” Ethan had promised to sell her several calves this fall, once Caleb Hatcher had cut her hay and she had some extra money for the purchase. Next year, she would need that hay for her own herd.

  He pushed his straw hat back on his head and stared to the east. “Pretty sunrise. Looks like it’s going to be a hot one, though.”

  Hallie nodded, her eyes taking in his golden hair and bright blue eyes. No wonder Ophelia Lauderdale followed him all around town. Rumor had it that he had even refused to dance with her at the spring frolic. Hallie had danced with him twice, but he probably didn‘t remember.

  “Yes, I think it’s going to be quite warm. I’ve done most of the cooking for the day.” She was glad she had baked her biscuits, and the apple pie early this morning. The pie was cooling on the counter under a wire cage, safe from the kitten. And she could set the pot of beans and pan of cornbread up in the warming oven for the day. The bacon was already fried, so there would be no need to build more than a small fire to make the coffee tonight. “You be careful out there and take some breaks,” she warned. Too many ranchers died from working in the heat.

  “Don’t worry,” he grinned, showing his mouth of perfect teeth. “I can take care of myself.” He paused, his eyes locked on her face. He hesitated, as if something was on his mind, then looked away. “I’ll be back tonight for a lesson, if it’s alright with you.”

  “Fine,” Hallie said. “And I’ll have supper for you.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, his forefinger giving a brief touch to the brim of his hat. “Guess I’d better get that wire,” he flecked the reins across the horse’s back and drove away from her.

  Ma’am. The words echoed through her mind. A school teacher. That was how he thought of her. It was settled in his mind that she was nothing more than a spinster school teacher who cared for nothing more than instructing others. She watched as he jumped down from the wagon and entered the barn. So much for hoping his feeling for her might change.

  Turning, she headed back to the kitchen door, stopping to give a good look at Essie, now laying on the lowest step. She put her hands on her hips and gave the dog a stern look. “And you. What am I going to do with you, Essie? Just what I need around here is more mouths to feed.”

  Essie licked her boots in friendly fashion and then settled back for a morning nap, her bulging brown stomach shining in the morning sunlight.

  ***

  Ethan took off his hat and shook the sweat from the inner band. The sun was high and bright. Only blue sky showed above, and not a sign of a thunder cloud. June was going to roll into July with a vengeance. Even with all the heat, if they got enough rain, things might work out for the best.

  He surveyed the work behind him. Almost half way finished with this project. Another hard afternoon of work, and then on to Hallie’s for supper and a little reading.

  And maybe buttermilk pie for dessert. She sure had the touch when it came to making pies. And just about anything else she cooked. But for a Texas girl, she was sure uninformed about the ways of nature.

  He grinned to himself, thinking about her expression when he mentioned the pups. Her eyes had opened wide with surprise, an almost panicked expression on her pretty face for a brief moment. That momentary look had been the main reason he had assured her that Essie’s pups would be sought after. She had relaxed and gave a fleeting glance to the dog, as if she was going to give it a good talking to, once he was on his way.

  Ethan plopped the hat back on his head and reached for the wire cutters. Hallie might not know about ranching, but she was a fast learner, though he doubted he could teach her how to brand anything this fall. Her nature was too sweet and gentle, or at least it seemed to him.

  Of course, maybe he was wrong about that. She certainly had a lot of fortitude when it came to learning new things. Just last week he had seen her rope one of her wayward calves after it had escaped from that little make-shift pen she had. Maybe she could overcome that fancy education her father had sought to buy for her and make a rancher of herself, despite that hindrance of being female. And it might be best if he refrained from mentioning that last hindrance to her, he grinned to himself.

  ***

  “That’s right,” she nodded her head. “That’s the way to make the capital M,” she praised. “You’re doing very well. You’ll be writing that letter in no time. I can’t believe how far you’ve come in only five weeks. You’ve done very well.”

  Ethan sat back and released the breath he had been holding. He stared at the sentence he had composed on the paper. He could do this. But it would be a long time, take a lot of practice, to write the kind of letter that he would like to. He had made the decision last night, to ask her to help. “Hallie?”

  She smiled, “Yes?”

  “I, uh, I wanted to ask you something. About. . .about. . .”

  She laughed and, once more, he noticed how pretty she was with the lamplight shining off her hair and her blue eyes sparkling in the light. Even the spectacles that she wore while they read were attractive on her face. Why had he never noticed her before these past weeks?

  “What is it you want to ask me, Ethan?”

  “It’s about the, uh. . .” he pulled the folded paper from his shirt pocket and spread it on the table before them. “I thought maybe you could help me look at these advertisements. You know, just as practice.”

  ***

  Hallie curved her lips into a strained smile. This was what they were doing all of this for, wasn’t it? So she would have to endure the sense of loss that seemed to permeate through her, sending ripples through her stomach and causing an ache in her heart. “Well, of course I will.”

  She smoothed the paper with her fingers, unfolding the small kink in the corner, as if smoothing wrinkles in the document would gain more time before this sweet man began to search for his future bride.

  Hallie cleared her throat. “Why don’t you pick one of the advertisements and read it aloud to me?”

  Ethan gave her a quick glance and stared at the page. Finally, he took his finger and put it on the first boxed announcement. He stared for a moment before he began to read. “Chris. . .tian woman, 25. . .what does this mean?” His finger rested on a set of letters.

  “Years. The y-r-s is short and costs less to put in the advertisement.”

  “Oh. Twenty-five years. Tall, dark hair, brown eyes. De. . .sires man look. . .looking for love and fr–friend. . .ship.”

  “That’s good, Ethan. Your reading skills are coming back to you. You must have learned more than you’ve admitted.” She swallowed, wishing all these mail order brides would go away and find a husband elsewhere. A silly thought. Only one woman would be coming to see Ethan. To marry him.

  Ethan moved his finger down and started on the next box.

  “Don’t you want to finish the one you were reading?”

  He shook his head. “No need. I can already tell she isn’t the one.”

  Hallie blinked. Well, that was a fast judgment. “But, Ethan, how can you tell any such thing. She sounds very-”

  “I said, she’s not the one,” he interrupted. His tone was final, as he started reading the next advertisement.

  ***

  Ethan opened the door and stepped outside to his moonlit front porch. He could still see the confused expression on Hallie’s face tonight. She hadn’t asked why he had started reading so many of the advertisements, then abruptly stopped, going on to the next one. After a few stops and starts, she had seemed to resign herself to his odd behavior and asked no more questions.

  Explaining the situation to her was more than he could do. At least for right now. Not that she would spread the stories around. Hallie wasn’t that kind of woman. She was a good friend to him. He took a seat in the wicker rocker and smiled. Yes, she was a good friend to him. Probably the only one that he had. She was patient, and kind when he struggled through the words, al
ways encouraging him to go on. And while the actual writing was some harder than he had imagined, she had been nothing but encouraging when he made a mistake.

  She said he was progressing well. That meant he was ever closer to sending for a bride. A wife. A woman to cook and clean, help out around the ranch. She could take care of the garden and the chickens. Patch his trousers and shirts. Maybe give him children.

  He could see the two of them now, just sitting on the porch in the evenings, watching their son and daughter run through the yard, a race to catch the lightning bugs that lit the late summer evening. The boy would be like him, tall and blond. The girl like her mother. He would turn to his wife and say. . .what? Right now, she was nothing but a stranger to him. The thought began to sour in his stomach and he stood, shaking away the feeling. A wife was something he needed for his own good. Nothing more than that.

  ***

  It was nice to have the moon so bright, shining through the tatted curtains. Shadows from the limbs of the old oak, just outside the room, danced around the room, as the limbs swayed in the night breeze. A slight tinkling sound found her ears and she smiled. Tin cans that Rob had tied with strings to the small tree near the chicken house. He thought the sound might keep out the raccoons and opossums.

  Well, he had been wrong about that. But Ethan had taken care of the problem right away. Now her birds were safe every night. No more rushing outside with the shotgun in the middle of the night, trying to make out what might be getting the silly birds.

  That old hoot owl could land on the chicken house roof every night, but he wasn’t getting inside. Neither was that murderous raccoon that spent a lot of time fiddling with the door handle. They would have to find another place for their late-night meals.

  Ethan. Lately almost every thought she had included him. He had become a stable force in her life, always there to get done what was needed. Keeping her laughing at night, when he sat at her table. All of his early nervousness and awkwardness was gone. He was a relaxed man around her.

  A wave of sadness jolted through her. He was only around her so that he could find a wife. Some woman he did not know. And tonight, she had witnessed another curious thing. When he had started reading those advertisements, he had been quick to abandon one and go to another. Why? It wasn’t his reading skills. He was slow, but catching on fast.

  The more she thought about it, the more curious she was to know what had sent him on to another woman’s inquiry. There was only one thing to do. He had left the paper folded on her table. She could get up and go read them again herself.

  ***

  Ethan stared at the sudden tiny bright light that showed in the valley below him. A light shone from Hallie‘s kitchen window. Was everything all right? He had told her numerous times to fire her shotgun and he would hear and be there soon, if she needed him. Something inside urged him to go check anyway. Just make sure she was safe.

  But what would he say when he rode into her yard, just to find that she was unable to sleep, or had just wanted a drink of water? He would look a fool. Best to just keep a watch for a while and listen. If she needed him, he would be on his way soon.

  Chapter 12

  Hallie took some kindling from the small bucket on the floor and opened the stove door. Using the poker, she pushed around the coals until she had a nice pile of them. Tossing in the kindling, she waited for the small pieces to spark and flame. She only needed a small fire, just enough to heat the kettle.

  Standing, she took the small, green tin from the shelf, and scooped mint leaves into her tea pot. Even dry, the leaves sent a pleasant scent into the air. She smiled. Mother had always loved a cup of hot mint tea when she couldn’t sleep. And now, it was her own habit, as well. She glanced through the back window and up the hill Ethan’s place was dark. Perhaps tonight, he was sleeping well.

  Scooting the lamp closer, she stared at the page, trying to find the place they had started reading tonight. The paper was full of women looking for a husband. Most asked for love, companionship, friendship. What every woman wanted from her marriage. But he had skipped over some of them after barely beginning to read.

  She read several that he had ignored. She moved her finger down the page and read a few others that he had lingered over. They weren’t so different from the ones above. “Well you’ve stumped me good, Ethan,” she said aloud, shaking her head in wonder.

  Tinker jumped to the table and she patted his head, enjoying the purring sounds that filled the air. His green eyes glowed in the lamplight and his gray fur took on a silver tone. “And what do you think about all of this, Mr. Tinker,” she smiled, watching as he jumped back down and headed to his food dish, inspecting it for any crumbs leftover from his evening snack. By now, the mouse that lived behind the stove would have had the last of it. Maybe soon, Tinker would make a snack of that mouse. Until then, every morsel of food was locked tightly in the tin-punched pie safe sitting in the corner of the room.

  Glancing down the page, she began to read more of the personal advertisements. Weren’t these women worried about what kind of man might answer them? That he might lie? After all, a man could write that he was twenty-five, but stepping down from the stage, it was just as likely the woman would be greeted by a forty-five year old or even a sixty-five year old man. And then what did one do? Marry him anyway, despite the deception? Most probably had to do just that, as they would have no money to get back home. It was an unsettling reflection.

  Just the thought sent a shiver through her. Some things were worse than living alone. And why had she been counting up the perks of loneliness lately? Was she doing her best to console herself that she was destined to remain a spinster?

  She would not end up alone. Somewhere, out in the world, was a man that would love her, stand by her side, be a true husband to her. But wherever he was, he must be hiding, she sighed, beginning to fold the paper.

  A group of advertisements at the bottom of the page caught her eye. And these were different from the grouping above. These were put in the paper by men looking for a wife. Not that she was interested. But it wouldn’t hurt to read them, would it?

  ***

  Ethan jerked awake, the rocker beneath him wobbling on the porch boards. Inside the little house, the clock on his mantle struck two. He yawned. Sleep was finally trying to kick in. He blinked and stared below. Hallie’s light was still lit. Surely he would have awakened if there had been a shotgun blast. He opened his mouth to ease his jaw. A bad habit, clenching his teeth when he was nervous about something. And what good did it do to be nervous about a neighbor woman‘s welfare. She wasn’t his responsibility. He ignored the twinge inside of him. He almost wished it was so.

  But his heart told him that taking Hallie as his wife would be all wrong. He would start to love her. If he didn’t all ready. And that would only mean heartache and disaster for the both of them. Love had never worked out for him. If he loved someone, he lost them. Plain and simple. And the thought of anything happening to Hallie was too much to bear. Best be able to look down to the valley at night and know she was safe in her own home.

  He needed a wife that would be nothing more than a friend. Someone to sit beside him on lonely winter evenings, darn his socks, and sew the rips in his shirts. Converse with him over coffee after supper.

  He smiled. Sitting at Hallie’s table, sipping coffee, talking, watching her eyes light when she laughed. Watching the lamplight glint off the gold of her reading spectacles. He had enjoyed the time with her this past month. She was smart and funny. And very pretty. And he had better stop spending time with her soon.

  He forced himself from the creaky rocker, stretching his arms over his head as he stood. No use worrying anymore, since there had been no shotgun fired. It was time he went to bed for a few hours. Tomorrow would be another long, hot day. At that moment, the light below went out, leaving the little valley in darkness. Hallie had gone to bed. Now, he could rest easy.

  Chapter 13

  Hallie yawned and
moved the coffee pot to a warm spot on the stove. The bacon sizzled and spit on the hot griddle, sending a lovely aroma into the air. She smiled and breathed deep. She had taken it for granted that she would spend the rest of her life waking to the lovely smell of coffee and bacon. But now, she had to get up and make both of them herself if she was to enjoy them.

  She glanced at the paper on the table. It was just lying there, a yellow ray of sunshine floating across the neatly folded front page, but it seemed to entice her to pick it up and read more of the advertisements she had studied the night before.

  A couple of the men’s advertisements still stuck in her mind. But it was silly to consider them. Even the man with all the ranching experience. A foreman, no less. He could certainly make a dent in the way this place had been handled by Rob. Poor Rob. He was no rancher. Maybe the factory in Chicago was working out for him. It seemed so in the letters that Judith wrote every month.

  She poured herself a cup of coffee and stirred the bacon around in the skillet. For all she knew, the man in the advertisement was a stall cleaner at the local livery. That might be the sole lot of his horse experience. To be fair, a stall cleaner was a hard worker. But thoughts of Chip Howard’s wife kept sending doubts through her mind about the truth of these sellers of themselves.

  Not that the woman had done Mr. Howard any harm. Folks said his ranch was shaping up quite nicely, and Chip always looked clean and well dressed whenever he showed his face in town. No more wrinkled shirts or greasy strands of hair down his face. And his hands were always clean. It was a wonder that anyone recognized him, these days.