by Linda Bridey
Iris Kilburn wore beaten canvas trousers, a buckskin jacket fringed up the sleeves, and rawhide chaps down her legs. She didn’t notice her tattered work boots leaving dusty footprints on the carpet. She carried a crumpled felt hat in hands covered by worn leather gloves,
Cornell glared at her. “Honestly, Iris, I’ve asked you to change out of your work clothes before you come into the house. Look, you’re getting dust all over the place.”
“I didn’t change my clothes because I’m going right back out,” Iris replied. “I only came in to ask Violet when she wants to leave for Butte. I’ll change my clothes before we leave.”
“You’ll change your clothes before you leave for Butte,” Cornell shot back. “But you won’t change your clothes to keep the house clean.”
“That’s right,” Iris replied. “When do you want to leave, Violet?”
“As soon as you’re finished working,” Violet replied. “I’m waiting for you. We should leave as soon as possible. We have to get to the train station in time to pick up the men and get home before dark. That doesn’t give us much time.”
“Is Rose ready to go?” Iris asked.
“As far as I know, she is.” Violet looked around as if searching for their youngest sister. “I haven’t seen her yet this morning.”
“All right.” Iris headed back toward the door. “You hunt up Rose, and I’ll put my horse away and change. Then we can leave.”
“I suppose you’re champing at the bit to get a mail-order husband, are you, Iris?” Cornell scoffed. “I didn’t know you’d suddenly taken such an interest in men.”
“I haven’t taken a sudden interest in men,” Iris replied. “Does it surprise you to learn that I’ve been interested in men all along? Well, I have. But I think Violet’s plan for us to get mail-order husbands is a sensible one, and I’m willing to go along with it.”
“And what exactly do you think is sensible about it?” Cornell asked.
“I’ve told you a million times, Cornell,” Iris answered. “This ranch desperately needs men—and not the kind of men you’d pick for us. The ranch doesn’t need any graduates of Eastern universities with specialties in politics or literature. It doesn’t need the sons of railroad magnates or shipping tycoons. What this ranch needs—and badly—are cowboys. We need men who know how to work cattle and run a cattle ranch. That’s what we need, and that’s what we got. That’s why I think it’s sensible.”
“This ranch doesn’t need any more cowboys than it already has,” Cornell argued. “We have Pete Kershaw and Wade Jackson. What else do we need? They do a good job, and the ranch is running fine. We don’t need any cowboys.”
“Pete is fifty, and Wade is pushing sixty,” Iris shot back. “They can barely do the work now, and they’ll only weaken further as they age.”
“Nonsense!” Cornell spluttered. “You’re exaggerating again, Iris.”
“I’ve explained this to you so many times,” Iris went on. “And you’ve ignored me and told me I’m a silly girl who should stick to my knitting. So I’m not going to waste my time going through it again. If you don’t understand by now why we need cowboys, then you aren’t going to understand it. I’ve given up on trying to convince you.”
“I’ll be the one to decide what this ranch needs,” Cornell growled. “I know what goes on around this ranch a lot better than you do, Iris. You’re a twenty-year-old girl with a lot of fanciful ideas that don’t measure up on the ground. You would do well to leave the management of this ranch to me.”
“I know your opinion perfectly well,” Iris replied. “And right now, I have better things to do than argue with you about it. I’m going out to put my horse away. Then I’ll change my clothes. Violet, you find Rose. By the time I finish changing, we should all be ready to go.”
“Good,” Violet exclaimed. “I’ll get Rose. By the way, Iris, while you’re out there, could you ask Pete to get the buggy hitched up for us? And we’ll need three horses saddled for the men to ride home.”
“I’ll tell him.” Iris disappeared out the door.
Cornell scowled at the door after she left. “That sister of yours will never make any man a good wife. She’s too headstrong, and she doesn’t understand a woman’s role in the family. Look at her! She even has the temerity to wear pants! No man will put up with that. Whoever you got to be her mail-order husband will want her to stay at home and wear a dress the way a woman should.”
“You don’t know what Iris is made of,” Violet told him. “You don’t know what she does around here, or how valuable she is to this ranch.”
“Oh, really?” Cornell asked. “Tell me, then. Tell me what she does, and what her value is to this ranch.”
“I would, but she doesn’t want me to.” Violet sat up on her divan. “She’s sworn me and Rose to secrecy. And that should give you some idea of how deeply you’ve hurt her with your comments about her clothes and her interest in men. You should be ashamed of yourself for treating her so badly.”
“Ashamed of myself?” Cornell scoffed. “Treating her badly? I never did! I’ve never treated any of you girls badly in your lives. I’ve worked from dawn ‘til dusk to make your lives as pleasant as possible, and this is the thanks I get for it!”
“If you really wanted to do the best for us,” Violet declared. “You would listen to what we have to say. You might learn something you never thought you needed to know. Some of us know things even you don’t, Cornell—especially Iris. And look, you’re so pig-headed about things that poor little Rose won’t even say a word to contradict you. She’s that afraid of offending you.”
“Pig-headed, am I?” Cornell fumed. “Since when am I pig-headed?”
“All the time,” Violet shot back. “You won’t listen to a word from anyone else. You won’t take advice on what’s going on with the ranch or what we need to do from Iris or anyone else. It’s Cornell or nothing around here.”
Cornell pulled his head down between his shoulders. “I should say it is Cornell or nothing around here. I’m your guardian and the executor of your estate. I’m responsible for administering the Kilburn family fortune. I would be remiss in my duty if I did take advice from a little whip of a girl on how to run this ranch.”
“You think all three of us are nothing more than little whips of girls,” Violet remarked. “And to you, that’s all we’ll ever be. Well, one of these days, Cornell, you’re going to wake up and realize just how wrong you are.”
Cornell let his hands and his papers fall onto the desk in front of him. He stared at Violet. “What has gotten into you, Violet? You’ve always deferred to me in the past. You’ve always encouraged your sisters to follow my direction and my vision for the ranch. I don’t understand what has induced you to attack me so blatantly now.”
“I’ve always backed you before, Cornell,” Violet agreed. “And now I’m not. I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
“But why?” Cornell asked. “Why now?”
Violet stood up and smoothed down the skirts of her dark brown dress. “I don’t have time to discuss this any further right now. If you’re still up when we get back from Butte, we can talk again then. But I’m telling you for the last time, Cornell, we won’t discuss it in front of the men.”
“But, Violet….” Cornell began.
Violet interrupted him. “And I’ll tell you something else, Cornell. We won’t discuss the advisability of my sisters and me marrying mail-order husbands at all after the marriage service on Friday. Once we marry these men, you aren’t to bring it up again—ever! Do you understand me?”
“But, Violet….” Cornell whimpered.
“I’m leaving now, Cornell. I’ll see you for supper this evening. We should be back from Butte by then.” Violet swept out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
Chapter 3