Falls Creek Western Romance Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3

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Falls Creek Western Romance Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3 Page 12

by Woods, Emily


  Four days later, the train entered the state of Montana, and it was even better than Alex had imagined. The mountains and wide-open spaces caused him both stress and relief. He was nearer his goal than ever, which quickened his blood, but the beauty of the land filled him with awe.

  It only took another twelve hours to reach his destination. When he stepped off the train with just a simple canvas bag that he'd picked up along the way, he felt like a new man. Some might find the word ‘man’ a bit of an overstatement as he'd only recently reached his nineteenth birthday, but he felt justified. He knew that this journey would test his mental, emotional, and physical strength. Doing a combination of gentlemanly sports and weight-lifting at the private school he'd attended had given him some muscle, but he knew that real work would be a different test altogether.

  He tried to imitate the saunter of what he believed was a Western man's walk and throw off his training of correct posture as he strolled through town looking for a horse for sale to take him to the ranch.

  “Pardon me, pardner,” he drawled to a nearby man, earning him a wary look. “But would you happen to know where I can get me a horse?”

  The man frowned at him slightly, as though offended, but replied, “Big Jimmy has a few.” He jerked his head towards a crumpling shack on the edge of town. “Might sell you one.”

  “Thank you kindly,” he replied, tipping his hat. The man gave him another peculiar look, and Alex thought perhaps he was overdoing it. He'd tried to tone down his impression a little.

  “Hi there,” he said casually to a man who was clearly a blacksmith.

  The swarthy fellow put down his hammer and squinted at him. “Help you?”

  “Uh, yeah, I hope so. Do you happen to have any horse available for sale?” That sounded a bit formal, so he tried again. “I'm looking for a nag to get me to Triple Range.”

  The blacksmith raised an eyebrow. “You ain't from around here. Got business there?”

  “You might say that,” he replied with forced casualness. “I'd like a horse, if you've got one to spare.”

  “Yep, but they don't come free.” He looked Alex up and down as though trying to assess how much he could get out of him.

  “I've got a few dollars,” he replied, hoping to make it sound as though he wasn't willing to pay too much.

  “Hope you've got more than a few. A good horse will run you a couple hundred.”

  Alex felt his face drain of color. That was how much his grandparents had given him for his first year of tuition. He'd hoped not to spend it all, but now he saw that he’d have no other choice.

  “And do you have such a horse?” he asked in a somewhat superior tone, forgetting to sound like a cowboy.

  “Might do. See for yourself.”

  He led him to the back where a few horses were kept in stalls. Alex had no idea which one to buy, but he tried to assess them based on how they looked. The man rattled off some information about them, and Alex decided to take the horse that was neither the most expensive nor the least. He desperately hoped he’d not been taken advantage of.

  “And can you tell me how to get to the ranch?” he asked as he handed over his tuition.

  The man let out a stream of tobacco juice before answering. “Follow this trail for 'bout sixteen miles, turn left at the fork in the road. Keep going another ten and then make a right. Go on down that there road for 'nother fifteen, give or take, and you’ll see it. It's the biggest ranch in the area. Only a fool would miss it.”

  He certainly hoped he wasn’t that, even though he felt he might be as he watched the man tuck away his grandparents’ money with a sly grin.

  Thankfully, the horse came with a saddle bridle. Alex was accustomed to riding as his school had educated its students in equine activities, but it would be very different riding along a path that seemed to lead to nowhere, rather than along well-maintained paths.

  “Thanks for everything,” he said coolly as he mounted. He'd decided to leave off the word 'partner' as it hadn't garnered much camaraderie when he tried it out before. “Have a good day.”

  He picked up the reins and headed off in what he desperately hoped was the right direction. Even though his faith wasn't terribly deep, he found himself praying the whole way.

  Chapter 2

  When a large ranch finally came into view after nearly three hours of riding, Alex released a shaky sigh and muttered, “Thank God.”

  He'd been completely unsure if he was going in the right direction, even though he'd been able to follow the directions the blacksmith had given him. There'd been nothing for miles and miles, and he wondered if he was going to be one of those statistics people heard about regarding single travelers getting lost and then dying in the middle of nowhere.

  But now he was here.

  Upon closer inspection, the ranch was rather impressive. There was a large house wooden house, two stories high, a barn not too far from that, and a long building that he guessed was the bunkhouse nearly beside it. A fair bit off in the distance, he could see another house, but it didn't strike him as being nearly as big. Of course, his perception could have been off.

  Now was the moment he'd been building up to since he was about ten years old, and the idea of finding his father had occurred to him. What would he say when he finally met him? Would he recognize him at all? His grandparents had always brushed off any questions he'd had saying that his father had a new life and wasn't interested in him. Whenever he tried to pursue the topic further, he would be rebuffed and made to feel that he didn't appreciate all his grandparents had done for him. That guilt would usher him into silence.

  But now, somewhere in the vast land, his father lived and breathed, provided that he hadn't passed away. Alex hadn’t let himself dwell on that possibility...not ever. His only prayer his whole life long was to meet his father. Surely God wouldn't have allowed him to come this far if his father wasn't alive.

  He had to hang onto that hope.

  The horse had proven to be adequate, although he suspected he'd been overcharged. In any case, he spurred it on now and tried to breathe normally. The closer he got to the ranch, the more his body betrayed him. Not only was his heart beating erratically, but his stomach churned violently. However, he managed to get himself under control and approached the large house.

  “Good morning,” a pleasant-looking woman called out. She was in the midst of hanging laundry, but stopped as he approached. To his thinking, she appeared to be about in her forties, but Alex was never a good judge of age.

  “Good morning,” he replied politely, dismounting and approaching the woman deferentially. “I'm looking for the owner of the ranch. Would you happen to know where I could find him?”

  Inwardly, he groaned at his turn of phrase, but nerves made him extra polite.

  “I do, in fact,” she replied with a smile. “But he won't be back to the house for another hour or so. Could I help you?”

  Perhaps it would be better to make a good impression on the woman who was likely his wife. Then he might stand a better chance of getting hired.

  “Well, I've just gotten off the train in Great Falls today, and bought a horse to ride out here with the hopes of being employed, on this here ranch.” He added the last part in an attempt to diffuse the formality of his voice.

  The woman's eyes sparkled, and he wondered if she was laughing at him.

  “You just bought this horse? In Great Falls? I hope you didn't buy him from Jimmy Fullman.”

  A feeling of trepidation skittered along his spine. “Is he not honest?”

  “That's putting it mildly,” she answered, taking a long look at his horse. “It's lucky this old mare got you all the way from town. It might be the last thing she ever does.”

  His heart sank. All his tuition had gone towards the horse. He wouldn’t be able to buy a new one.

  “I thought people in the West were honest and friendly. I never expected to be cheated.”

  She shook her head sympathetically. “I'
m sorry that it happened. Perhaps when one of the men goes into town next, they can visit Jimmy and see about getting some of your money back.”

  With a snap, she folded the sheet she'd just taken of the line and dropped it into the basket by her feet. “I'm Kate Winston, by the way. And you are?”

  “Oh, excuse me. I'm Pa—, uh, Alex Rogers. Nice to meet you.” He gave a tiny bow. Too late, he realized that he was giving himself away. “I mean, howdy.”

  Now she burst out laughing. “Oh, Alex Rogers. Where are you from? New York?”

  Shamefaced, he looked at the ground and muttered, “Pennsylvania.”

  “And you were hoping to get a job as a hand out here, is that right? After all the money that was poured into your education?”

  Now his jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

  After snagging another sheet off the line, she grinned and shook her head. “I'm from Connecticut myself ,and I could see private school on you the minute you opened your mouth.” She must have noticed his shame. “But there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You wanted to make a good impression on Luke and not come across as some soft city boy, is that right?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” he admitted humbly. “I thought I'd never stand a chance of being hired otherwise.”

  “Well, I do wonder why you abandoned the city and decided to come out here, but your reasons are your own. And don't be quick to judge what makes a good hand. Luke doesn't judge someone based on background, but character. If you are honest and hardworking, that'll go a lot further than anything else.”

  Although he knew he wouldn't be able to tell the entire truth, or rather he didn't want to, Alex realized that he wouldn't be able to use the immigrant story. So, in that moment, he changed his plan. He'd answer questions as truthfully as possibly without giving too much away.

  Alex had no desire to hurt his biological father or disrupt his life in any way. In fact, the very opposite was true. His grandparents had alluded to the fact that he'd been so distraught after the death of his wife that he plunged into a deep depression and couldn't cope with his own life, let alone raising a young son. But he’d always wondered why his father had never made any attempt to contact him over the past fourteen years. That was what he was here to find out.

  “Thank you for the advice. I'll start again. My name is Alex Rogers, and I'm looking for a job. I have no experience, but I'm hardworking and willing to do anything.”

  Kate nodded, smiling with satisfaction. “That's much better. Now, why don't you come in the house and meet the family. The younger ones are just back from school and my aunt Marge is baking up a storm.”

  He had siblings, but his brain couldn’t register that right now. “What about my horse?”

  With great pity, she looked at the beast that had seemed fine to him in town. “It'd be kind to turn her loose, but I suppose you should put her in the barn. Give her a good rubdown and some oats. There's a water trough in each stall.”

  He knew how to do this part well enough and hurried to comply. At least his private education hadn't been all in vain. While giving the horse, which he decided to name Lady, a good currying, the reality that he was about to enter a house where a number of his half-siblings lived suddenly hit him full force. Having been an only child his whole life, he'd longed for siblings, but never let himself dream about having any. Now he was going to meet them.

  Cold sweat broke out along his spine, and he thought perhaps he couldn't do this after all. It was too much, and he wasn't prepared. What was he going to say? How would he keep his identity a secret? Would he even be able to resist telling them who he was?

  One thing he did know what that this horse would not be able to take him back into town now, so at the very least, he was stuck here for a day. She would need at least that long to rest, if not more. On stumbling legs, he made his way up to the house and knocked on the door. When it was opened by a boy who looked to be about ten or so, Alex could barely breathe. He felt he was looking at a picture of himself taken eight years ago.

  “Hi. I'm Lucas. Mom said to come right in.”

  Hearing the boy speak jolted Alex into action, and he followed him. In the kitchen, he noticed an older woman in front of the stove stirring something. At the large wooden table sat two little girls, each in braids and enjoying a snack of milk and cookies. The one looked at him and then quickly ducked her head, but the other spoke up boldly.

  “Hello. You’re Alex and I'm Jane and I'm seven. This is Susie and she's eight, but she don't like strangers much.”

  Kate released a sigh. “She doesn't like strangers,” she echoed, putting the stress on the correction. “And you don't need to draw attention to her. Alex, please have a seat and don't mind the children. I'm afraid to say that I haven't been able to instill fine manners in them.”

  “Oh, that doesn't bother me in the least,” he managed to reply. It surprised him that he could talk at all, given the lump in his throat. In the span of five seconds, he met three people who were blood relations. He was surprised that he didn't break down altogether.

  “And these are all your children?” he asked quietly, trying not to sound as excited as he felt.

  “Ah, no. I have any older daughter, Maddie. She's nineteen and likes to ride with the hands.”

  Alex couldn't immediately register that information. How could his father have a daughter who was the same as he was? Then the answer came to him.

  “She has a different father,” he said without thinking.

  Kate gave him a funny look. “How did you know that?”

  Too late he released his mistake, but was able to cover it up quickly. “Oh, I guessed. The, uh, age difference.”

  She continued to look at him oddly, but nodded as though she accepted his answer. “Yes, she was six when we came out here to live with my aunt. Her father was killed when she was young, but Luke is her father in every way that matters.”

  A prickle of something unpleasant pushed through his excitement. How was it that Luke could adopt a little girl just five years after leaving him with his grandparents? While Kate's daughter enjoyed having Luke for a father, he had been stuck with his grandparents. Then he knew the emotion. It was jealousy.

  “I’m very sorry for prying.”

  His voice was cold and formal, but Kate didn’t seem to notice. “Oh, that's alright. It's not a secret or anything.”

  The older woman in the kitchen introduced herself. “You can just call me Aunt Marge,” she told him. “Everyone else does.”

  “We call you Gram,” Jane corrected her solemnly and then turned to Alex. “It's short for Great Aunt Marge. Do you get it?”

  His sister's voice broke through his fog. His sister was talking to him…his sister! He could barely register the fact, but choked out, “Um, yes, I believe so.”

  Lucas looked at him with great interest. “You don't talk like you're from around here. You sound a little like Ma. Where were you born?”

  “In Pennsylvania,” he answered truthfully. “Philadelphia to be exact.”

  “That's where Luke is from!” Kate exclaimed with a smile. “Oh, the two of you will have some things to talk about.”

  Jane and Lucas peppered him with more questions about his childhood, and he found it easy to talk to them, a delight even. After an hour had passed, even Susie was joining the conversation. He'd made some effort to draw her out and found himself so caught up in the conversation that half an hour passed without his notice.

  “Time to ring the dinner bell,” Aunt Marge announced. “Whose turn is it today?”

  “Mine!” Jane answered immediately, but Kate frowned.

  “I don't think so. You did it yesterday. It's Susie's turn.”

  “That's okay,” the little girl murmured. “I don't mind.”

  “No, Jane has to wait until tomorrow. Susie, please go and ring it.”

  The girl hesitated, gave her younger sister an apologetic look, and slid off her chair. A moment later, Alex heard the sound of a bell resoun
ding. He understood that it was meant to bring the others in for dinner. His heart raced. The moment when he was going to finally meet his father was quickly approaching.

  He stood and shuffled his feet back and forth.

  “I wonder if I should check on my horse,” he said nervously.

  “She's fine, I'm sure,” Kate said with a smile. She misinterpreted his anxiety. “Don't worry about anything. Luke is a good man and will give you a fair chance.”

  Her words were put to the test when twenty minutes later, several men pushed through the door. It was easy to see who Luke was in the crowd.

  Tall, fair-haired, and tanned, his father entered the room last and smiled at his wife, walking to her directly and kissing her in view of everyone. Alex almost blushed.

  “Smells good in here,” he commented, his voice deep and rich. Alex drank in the sight and sound of him. Finally… Finally, the moment was here. He was going to meet his father.

  “Roast,” she replied, returning his smile. “And we have a guest, in case you didn’t notice. Luke, this is Alex. He's hoping you'll take him on.”

  Then Luke turned and fastened curious eyes on Alex. For a very brief second, a hint of sadness passed over his face, but then the look was gone and he was walking toward him, a smile on his face and hand outstretched.

  “Nice to meet you, Alex. How are you?”

  “Uh, fine, sir,” he said stiffly, shaking his father's hand. He couldn't know how he was going to feel, but he didn't expect this instant connection. There was an instant connection in which he thought he would forgive Luke everything for leaving him behind, no explanation required. His jealousy and bitterness battled the desire to bask in his father's warmth and sincere greeting. “Your wife has been most kind in allowing me to wait for your arrival.”

  One or two of the men snickered, and Alex suddenly felt self-conscious about his manner of speaking.

  “Wouldn't hurt you oafs to learn some manners,” Aunt Marge scolded them, earning her a firm spot in Alex's heart. “I, for one, am real glad to hear someone speak so well, so never mind this uneducated bunch, Alex.”

 

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