The Rancher's Southern Belle

by Leanne Burroughs

  He held her gaze. “With Pa bein’ gone, I had actually planned to muster out of the army and go back to run the ranch, but now…”

  He let the words hang.

  “But now what?”

  “I do not think you could survive livin’ on a ranch. I might decide to stay in the army, live at the Fort.”

  Irrational fury flooded through her and she pulled her hand away. “How dare you decide where you think I can or cannot live? If you can live on a ranch, so can I!” Maybe.

  “You have no idea what you are talkin’ about. Livin’ on a ranch is hard work.”

  The waitress brought their food, and Madelyn waited until she was gone before she retorted. “And so is living in a city entrenched in a war. Do not treat me like a witless child, Captain. I assure you I am not.”

  A smirk crossed his face. “Then do not act like one.”

  “You, sir, are no gentleman! Tell me, what do you want to do? And make sure your answer is honest.”

  He lifted a brow, probably not used to being talked back to by a woman, but he didn’t say anything about it. What he said instead was, “I want to go back to my ranch. If there was a program for protecting the president, I would try to get a job with them. I enjoyed that when I did it, but no such unit exists.”

  “You protected the president?”

  “I did, although it came about in a round-about way. When the war broke out I happened to be in Kansas since I lived right on the border between Kansas and Missouri—Kansas City. James Lane, one of Kansas’ U.S. senators, recruited one hundred and twenty men who happened to be in the city and organized us into what he called the ‘Frontier Guard.’ I was part of that. For nearly three weeks, sixty of us were billeted in the President’s House to protect him.”

  “Why?” She picked up a warm biscuit and cut it in half, putting some butter on it to let it melt. Interested in his answer, although she didn’t want to be, she leaned forward. She liked listening to the sound of his voice.

  “Although you certainly would not have cared down in Georgia, shortly after the war began, the safety of our nation’s capital and that of President Lincoln became a national concern.” He picked up a biscuit to butter it as well. “For bein’ such an important city to our nation, Washington, D.C., lacked military presence or armory to protect the president and the city. Still does.

  “Senator Lane had just arrived to begin his first term. He checked into the Willard Hotel in Washington. On the night of April 13th, Northern and Southern sympathizers clashed. The senator quickly responded to the need for a militia and offered our services. All sixty of us established headquarters at the Willard Hotel. Someone told Lane an attempt would be made to kidnap the president and overturn the government. We were asked to report to duty at the President’s House until northern troops could arrive, and we quickly moved to occupy the East Room. General Scott supplied us with arms.” He stopped and took a bite of his pot roast. “You sure you want to hear this?”

  She nodded. “I must admit I am surprised I do, but yes, please continue.”

  He used his fork to point to his mashed potatoes. “These are very good. I think you will like yours.” He wiped his lips with his linen napkin. “Believe it or not Lincoln himself visited durin’ the two weeks of our encampment in the President’s House. While that might not mean much to you, to us poor boys from the Kansas/Missouri border, it was amazin’. The president himself!” His voice choked with emotion.

  “Your president, not mine.”

  “Madelyn…”

  “All right, all right. Continue.” She dug into her own mashed potatoes. They were delicious. Just as good as Aggie used to make.

  Memories of her friend swamped her. Were she and Old Bob all right? Had they made it North to live with their relatives that had escaped through the Underground Railroad? Or were they still stuck somewhere in Atlanta, trying to forge some means of existence? She’d never had to worry about them before, and now that she was, she was nowhere near them to try and help. Not that she had any idea what she could do.

  Misgivings crept in. How, oh how, was she going to survive? Yes, the captain said he would take care of her now, but she knew nothing of ranching. Mercy, she’d never washed a dish a day in her life. Never cooked. Never did anything important. Surely fancy needlepoint couldn’t be construed as essential.

  The captain continued talking, oblivious to her thoughts. “Rumors of the possible invasion of Washington ramped up war feelin’s. Those of us who volunteered were all young and thought we were invincible. Thought the war would be over within a few days. A week at the most. I am sure your men felt the same. None of us realized what would actually happen or the horrendous toll it would take on our country. Our men. Had we, perhaps that first shot might not have been fired at Fort Sumter.”

  As she started to speak, he quickly continued, “But that is neither here nor there. It was fired, and in truth, battles had been waged in Kansas and Missouri long before that. The war itself just galvanized everyone. A few weeks later we were discharged from that detail when formal Union troops arrived. I immediately mustered in. This was my country, and I was determined to protect it—no matter the cost. My brothers did the same, although Sam had to wait two more years to enlist.”

  “Sam is the brother that got married yesterday?”

  He nodded while he ate more of his beef, sopping up some of the gravy with his bread. “He is the youngest.”

  “Are your other brothers here too?”

  He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth, then laid it down on his plate. “My older brother John died at one of the war’s bloodiest battles—the Battle of Shiloh. While Virginia’s conflicts seem to have commanded the lion’s share of the nation’s attention, Missouri and Kansas witnessed horrific amounts of fighting. Only Virginia and Tennessee had more actions fought on their soil than Missouri. Sadly, the state was split in its sentiments, and many Missourians fought on both sides of the war. My brother John was one of them. Sam, Mark, and Matthew followed me. As much as it pains me to say it, I am glad Ma did not live to see her family torn apart.”

  ~ Chapter 4 ~

  “It is a lovely town.” Madelyn was happy he’d suggested a tour of the city after they’d dined.

  “It is. Sam will enjoy livin’ here now that he is hitched. He always grumbled about havin’ to do ranch work. Although he had lived there his entire life and it was all he knew, it really was not quite his cup of tea as you might say.” He smiled down at her.

  “Did your older brother like it?”

  “He did. Very much. I was surprised when he joined up to fight in the war. Ranchin’ was the only thing he had ever done and he did it well. He was just like our pa—lived and breathed cattle. The ranch would have gone to him had he lived.”

  “You said your sister lives nearby your ranch. Is her husband a rancher?”

  “Yep. Like I said, they have a small spread on the edge of some of Pa’s land. Probably the best weddin’ present he could have given them.”

  “Do they have children?”

  His grin widened. “Two little uns—a boy and a girl. They know just how to twist a person around their little fingers to get what they want, too, although Rebekah was just a baby when last I saw her.”

  She looked up at him, truly wanting to know his answer. “Including you?”

  He cocked a playful brow and nodded. “Especially me.” He reached for her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow.

  “So are you a soldier or a cowboy?”

  “Both I reckon. Although not many of us from the West that fought in the war were military men before. Most were farmers or ranchers.” He shrugged negligently. “Folks just tryin’ to get by.”

  He patted her hand. “Now I think it os time for us to head back to the hotel. We have been walkin’ for hours and my stomach’s grumblin’ again. Got to be time for supper.”

  Hers was grumbling, too. But she needed to know when he was leaving. After walking all day,
she was tired, and hoped to retire to her room as soon as he left. “What time do you have to head back to the Fort?”

  He stopped in his tracks. “I ain’t leavin’ tonight.”

  She widened her eyes in surprise, not liking the implications. “But this morning you said—”

  “This mornin’ I wasn’t hitched. Now I am responsible for you.” He winked. “‘Till death do us part, remember?”

  “But—”

  “No buts. You are my wife. I am not leavin’ you alone in town. When we leave, we leave together.”

  “But—”

  “That is a mighty lot of buts.”

  “It is not like we’re really married. We do not even know each other.”

  “That is what we’ve been doin’ all day, Mrs. Guylenhall.” He leaned closer, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. “Gettin’ to know each other. It will not happen overnight, but I reckon fifty or sixty years from now we will know each other pretty good.”

  Overnight? Oh no! Surely he didn’t think.

  “Do not patronize me, sir. I will not be condescended to.”

  “I assure you that is the last thing I am doin’.”

  She removed her hand from his arm and backed up. “Captain, I do not think this is a good idea. Surely you do not mean to…to…” She couldn’t even say it.

  His face revealed the minute he realized what she was talking about. “Exercise my husbandly rights?”

  Oh dear Heavens! He’d actually said it. Mortified at his brashness, all she could do was nod.

  He moved forward and took her arm again. “No, Madelyn. I will not. Not tonight. But that is not to say I will not at some time. We are married, and I plan on us livin’ a long and happy life together. That includes—”

  “Do not say it!” She raised a hand to stop him. She knew she was blushing. She could feel the heat rising up her cheeks.

  My word. She really was an innocent. At least he hoped she was. After only a day with her, the thought of her in any other man’s arms didn’t sit right with him. She was his now—whether either of them had wanted it or not. And no man would take away what he’d promised God he’d take care of.

  “Is that why we have moseyed all over town for hours? Stayin’ away from the hotel?” He couldn’t stop his grin.

  “Well I… That is…”

  He patted her hand and her hip brushed his as they walked. “It is all right. I am not goin’ to rush you into anythin’. I am not a monster.”

  He tore his gaze from his wife when he watched her father stumble out of the saloon as they neared the hotel. Raucous laughter followed him out the door.

  She clenched her hand on Luke’s arm.

  “It is all right,” he said for the second time in just a few minutes, resignation in his tone. “Let us see if we can sober him up.”

  He drew her closer as her father neared them.

  “H-haven’t killed each other yet?” the elderly man slurred.

  “Father! What a horrible thing to say. How could you?”

  She tried to pull away from Luke, but he refused to release her arm.

  “You brought it on yourself, girl. Your mother would have been appalled had she seen you this morning.”

  “We explained to you repeatedly what happened, sir,” Luke said. “The fact you do not believe me is understandable. The fact you do not believe your daughter is appallin’.”

  He walked toward the hotel’s door. “We are goin’ to eat supper now. You may join us if you can be civil. If not, I bid you good night.”

  “I’d not eat with you if I were starving. I will only be at the hotel for a few minutes. Then I am heading back to the saloon. Got me some business I need to attend to. Have to try to straighten out a slight…er…misunderstanding.” Her father ran his hand over the lower portion of his face, then swept in front of them and entered the hotel.

  Luke didn’t like the sound of that.

  Madelyn’s lower lip quivered. “Which means he needs more money. If he keeps this up, he will not have enough to get him to San Francisco.”

  “It is not your concern any longer, Madelyn.”

  She alternated looking up at him and the empty door where her father had entered. “Is it not? He is still my father. Despite what happened this morning, I love him very much.”

  “As you should. What I meant was you are not responsible for the money the two of you had. I am responsible for you now. I am certainly not rich like you might have been before, but I am not a poor sharecropper either. The ranch is a prosperous steadin’. If we manage our funds properly, we will be… comfortable.”

  Her head shook back and forth. “I am not worried about being rich or not rich. We lost almost everything when Sherman went through Atlanta. All I have left are my clothes. We had to go and live with my aunt. That was probably the last straw for Father. He hated living there. They never got along—before or after we moved in. That is when he started drinking and gambling. I think he did it just to get out of my aunt’s house in the evening. His way of escaping.”

  Luke pursed his lips, trying to think of a response. He didn’t want to hurt her. “Perhaps. A lot of people started drinkin’ more than they should durin’ the war. But his responsibility was to you. That is what parents do. Take care of their children. I hate to say it, but his forcin’ you to marry me was not lookin’ out for you. If he was truly worried about your reputation—especially after we both assured him nothin’ happened—he should have whisked you out of town immediately and been on his way to San Francisco if that was your ultimate destination. Instead, he forced you to marry me, knowin’ that would in fact keep you here. How was that lookin’ out for you?”

  “I guess… I guess it was not. I just do not understand why he did it. I doubt I ever will.”

  He pulled her to him as she shivered. “Come. Let us go inside and get some grub. It grows chilly out here and I am powerful hungry. I have a hankerin’ for a good thick steak.”

  They’d just finished dinner when Luke’s attention was drawn to a man who’d run into the restaurant. The man looked around and then rushed straight toward their table.

  “You Captain Guylenhall?”

  Surprised, Luke responded, “I am.”

  “Need you to come with me, Captain. Right away, sir.”

  Luke frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yep. Need to hurry, sir.”

  “Is it my brother Sam or his wife?”

  “No, sir. Please hurry.” The man headed toward the door.

  “Wait a minute. Where are we going?”

  The harried man looked from Luke to Madelyn. “The saloon.”

  “The saloon? Why would you need me to—”

  The man’s gaze shifted to Madelyn again. “Now, sir.” He rushed out of the restaurant without a backward glance.

  Luke rose. “If you will excuse me a minute, ma’am. I had best see what this is all about.”

  She started to rise. “I will come with you.”

  He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You will do no such thing. Stay right here until I return.” Her face showed how much she didn’t like that order. “It is no place for a lady. I will be right back.”

  She shook her head in aggravation, but sat back down.

  He wended his way through the busy restaurant with ease and exited into the hotel’s lobby, then stepped outside as long, evening shadows slanted across the hard-packed road.

  When he entered the saloon, men were gathered around someone lying on the floor near the poker table. Cigar smoke trailed to the ceiling. His heart lurched. This didn’t bode well.

  As he drew closer to the sprawled out man, he quickly understood why the hesitant messenger had kept looking at Madelyn.

  He looked to those standing around the man on the floor. “Is he dead?”

  “Yessir. It were a fair fight though. We all saw it.”

  “What happened?”

  “The varmint owed me money from a game last night. He refused to pay,
then had the audacity to come back and spend all day in here and try and play again today. I refused to let him join us.” The burly man spun to look at the body. “He drew a gun on me, and Roberts here shot him.” He looked Luke straight in the eyes. “Roberts don’t miss.”

  Luke nodded. “Has the sheriff been called?”

  “Been and gone. As we said, it were a fair fight. Everyone in the saloon saw it since the worthless varmint were yellin’ like a madman afore he drew his pistol on me.”

  “I am assumin’ if I check his pockets I will find no money?”

  The man who’d been speaking frowned. “Told you he owed me money. It were mine, so I took it.”

  Luke heaved a sigh. “Can someone notify the undertaker? I will pay for the funeral.”

  “Sure can,” said a tall, slender young man at the bar. “My pa’ll be glad for the business.” He pushed away from the bar and headed out the swinging batwing doors.

  Luke headed outside. How in the world was he going to tell his wife what happened? He didn’t think her system could take too many more shocks in one day.

  He stopped and glanced over the swinging doors to look at the man lying on the floor as a thought came to him. Could the loud, insufferable man have actually been protecting Madelyn this morning? If what the cowpoke said was true and her father owed a great deal of money, maybe he’d lost all he’d brought with him. Everything he and Madelyn would have needed to get to San Francisco. Maybe he feared the inevitable retribution to owing such a great sum and wanted his daughter taken care of—even if by someone he considered lower than dirt.

  It was the only logical explanation. Although right now Luke couldn’t find much of anything logical about what had happened today.

  He’d faced thousands of Confederates in battles during the four years of the war, but facing Madelyn and telling her what happened to her father scared him more than any of the bloody battles had. At least for them he’d been somewhat prepared.