“Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Trey tipped his hat, hoping to ward off a long-winded introduction. “Excuse me, Ma, but I need to fetch your trunks. The train will be pulling out soon.”
“Oh, of course.” She handed him her claim tickets. “You go on.”
Mrs. Hunter looked toward the baggage car. “I need to take care of ours, too.”
His ma patted Mrs. Hunter’s shoulder then nudged her toward him. “Go with Trey and show him which ones are yours. He’ll load them for you. I’ll stay with Abby and Martha.”
“Are you sure?” Mrs. Hunter’s gaze jumped from his to Ma’s.
Trey nodded. “Happy to oblige, ma’am.” He felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down.
“Are you a giant, mister?” The older girl looked up, shading her big blue eyes.
Mrs. Hunter grabbed her daughter’s hand, pulling it away from his black pants. “Abby Louise! That is not polite behavior.”
Trey chuckled, gazing at the girl. “No, ma’am. I’m just long-legged.”
“Truly you are,” Abby said with admiration in her voice.
“The hat makes me look taller than I really am.” He glanced at the girl’s mother. “If you’ll show me your luggage, I’ll haul it for you.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
They turned toward the baggage car.
“Trey is six foot three,” his ma shouted. “He’s taller than both of his brothers and his pa.”
“Oh my,” Abby muttered.
Trey heaved a sigh. They hadn’t even left the depot and his ma was already embarrassing him. He couldn’t help it if he was taller than most men.
“I apologize for my daughter. She hasn’t mastered the art of thinking before she speaks.”
Neither had his mother, and she was in her fifties. “It’s no bother, ma’am. I’m used to folks talking about me being tall.”
She glanced up and smiled, her big blue eyes shining. “I think it’s nice. I’m sure it has its advantages.”
Sometimes his height did have benefits, like today when he stood at the back of a crowd, but his clothing cost extra because he couldn’t buy the ready-made kind since the sleeves and pant legs were always too short. And he often had to duck down to enter buildings—and he’d had to build a special bed to fit him.
As they approached the baggage car, Trey turned to Mrs. Hunter. “Would you like to give me your claim tickets so I can get your luggage for you?”
“That would be nice. Thank you, Mr. Carpenter.” She opened her beaded bag and reached inside.
“You have someone coming to pick you up?”
The woman’s hand paused, and she glanced up. “Um… yes, we have a ride.”
Trey took the tickets and walked toward the baggage clerk, wondering about the odd expression on Mrs. Hunter’s face. All he’d asked was if someone was picking her up—a simple yes or no question, so why was she hesitant to answer? He shook his head. There wasn’t a man God had made who could figure out a woman.
Sadie’s hands trembled as she watched the tall cowboy walk away. This was a mistake. Obviously his mother had failed to tell him about her. She glanced back to see Ella and the girls coming her way. Sadie spun around and hurried to join them. “He doesn’t know?”
Ella’s cheeks turned red. “I didn’t feel it was something I should tell him in a letter.”
“Know what?” Abby stared up at her.
“Never mind, sweetie.”
Martha let go of Ella’s hand and tottered to Sadie. She picked up her little girl, needing the comfort of having her in her arms. How had she let Ella talk her into this cockamamy idea?
Because she had no other options.
Trey trudged toward her, easily carrying his mother’s large trunk. He was certainly all man. Franklin, her husband, had been only five foot nine—a mere two inches taller than she. He was a good man. If only he’d handled their finances better, instead of leaving her and the children penniless.
“I’ll put this in the buckboard then come and get your baggage, Mrs. Hunter.” He cast an odd look her way before moving toward the depot stairs.
Sadie nudged Ella. “Go with him. You’ve got to tell him.”
Ella nodded. “That’s a good idea. You stay here, and don’t worry. Trey may act like a curmudgeon at times, but he has a good heart.”
Sadie clutched her daughters’ hands, hoping desperately that was true.
Trey set the trunk in the middle of the wagon to balance the weight then turned back to the depot. No one else waited to collect passengers, so he assumed they’d be dropping Mrs. Hunter and the girls off at a hotel. But then she said she had a ride. He frowned when he saw his ma approaching.
Her face looked paler than normal, and she wrung her gloved hands. That niggling of uneasiness snaked down his back again. She wasn’t ill, was she?
“Jimmy, before you collect Sadie’s baggage, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Can’t it wait till we get home? You’re looking a bit peaked.”
She glanced over her shoulder then back. “No. I’m afraid it can’t.”
Trey tugged off his hat and forked his fingers through his sweaty hair. He slapped his Stetson back on. “All right. What do you need to tell me?”
“Well, you know Paulette was my closest and dearest friend. Her death hit me hard. And right afterwards, Sadie lost her husband to an illness. The poor thing, losing her mother and husband in a matter of months.”
He leaned back against the wagon wheel, settling in for another of his ma’s long-winded tales. He just wished she could have waited until they were on the road home. He had chores to do when he got back.
“Then Sadie discovered her husband hadn’t managed their money well, and she lost the house. I took her and the girls in because they had nowhere to go.”
Trey’s eye twitched. He doubted he’d like what came next.
“I brought Sadie with me and told her she could stay with us. Surprise!” Her smile looked forced, and she rushed on. “I knew you wouldn’t object to helping out someone in as dire straits as she, especially a widow with two small children.”
He’d only been half listening, as he watched a red-tailed hawk soar across the sky and settle on the depot’s roofline. Straightening, Trey realized what she just said. His belly clenched. “All them females are staying at my place?”
His ma nodded, looking as if she’d made up her mind and there was no point arguing.
“But there’s only two bedrooms. Where are we going to put ’em?” How was he going to keep his sanity? “How long will they be staying?”
“We can all share the spare bedroom. The girls can sleep on a pallet on the floor if need be. And Sadie will only stay until she finds a man to marry her or gets a job and can afford her own place.”
That could take months! “How could you commit to that without asking first?”
His mother stepped toward him, a sweet smile on her face. “Because I know you, Son. All your life you’ve been taking in strays. How could you say no to such a pretty woman with two darling girls? They have nowhere else to go. And besides, if Sadie doesn’t find a husband or job, when I return home, I’ll take them back with me.”
“They could have stayed at your house in Kansas City.”
“Not with your brother coming and going. I couldn’t leave them alone with Garrett. You know how irresponsible he can be. And it wouldn’t be proper to let them live together with no chaperone since they are not married.”
“I don’t like this. A ranch is no place for two little girls.” Even as he uttered the statement, he knew how lame it sounded. One of his neighbors, a rancher named Harley Biggs, had four daughters, all who were expert riders and well on their way to learning to ranch.
“Go collect Sadie’s baggage, dear. We need to get out of the hot sun, and it’s time the girls had a nap.”
Trey nodded at his ma and stomped up the steps. Mrs. Hunter studied him with wide eyes. He turned his face away so
he wouldn’t glare at her. It wasn’t her fault Ma had volunteered his home and talked her into coming to Texas. He didn’t really mind helping her, he just didn’t like being forced to do so, especially not knowing about it in advance. At least he’d straightened up the house before coming to town.
He walked toward her two trunks, frowning. Here he’d been expecting one female, and now he was saddled with four. How was he going to find any peace and quiet?
Chapter 2
After loading Mrs. Hunter’s trunks, Trey helped his mother onto the wagon bench. Mrs. Hunter handed the younger girl to her then lifted her skirt so that she could step onto the wheel hub. Knowing his ma would expect him to be a gentleman, he put his hands on her narrow waist and hoisted her up. She gasped as she clambered aboard then turned, casting him a surprised look. She reached down. “Give me your hand, Abby.”
The girl stepped away from the wagon, cocking her head to look at Trey. “I want him to lift me up like he did you.”
Something stirred in his gut at the admiration in Abby’s gaze. He lifted the featherweight child, managed a smile, and handed her to her mother. He climbed aboard the crowded bench and gathered the reins. He released the brake and clucked to the horses.
His mind raced. How was he going to explain the extra woman and kids to his men? They’d tease him that his ma had brought him a ready-made family. He wouldn’t mind a wife, but he didn’t have time to find one—and he certainly didn’t want one his mother had picked out for him.
He guided the horses toward Holbert’s General Store. With extra mouths to feed, he’d need to lay in additional supplies, and he probably ought to pick up a couple of blankets for the girls. He could always use them in the bunkhouse later.
“That’s the town square.” His ma pointed as they passed by. “That giant pecan tree is the hub of town. Court sessions, church services, and all kinds of events have been held under its large branches.”
“It’s a nice town.” Mrs. Hunter glanced around. “Oh look, Abby! They have an opera house.”
Trey didn’t think the town was much different than other Texas towns he’d visited, except for Sherman’s focus on education and religion. He turned down Mulberry Street and pulled to a stop in front of Holbert’s. “Do y’all want to go in or wait here?”
“Why, go in, of course. Did you ever know me to pass up a visit to a store?” His mother smiled.
Trey traipsed around the wagon, unloaded all the females, and ushered them inside. Store owner John Holbert’s lips twisted in a teasing smirk.
His ma paused in front of the fabric cabinet, but Mrs. Hunter and her girls ventured down a different aisle. Trey leaned down close to his mother’s ear. “What do those girls eat?”
She looked at him like he’d grown another nose. “The same thing you and I do.”
That didn’t help at all. “I need to lay in some extra supplies to feed all of them, so what should I get?”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so?”
He straightened, thinking he had.
“You tend to your business and leave the grocery shopping to me.”
“Don’t forget that I’m on a limited budget.”
She patted his arm. “I’m the one who invited them. I’ll take care of the bill.”
A muscle ticked in Trey’s jaw. It didn’t seem right for his ma to be supporting the widow and her children, but he supposed helping them was the Christian thing to do. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I know, but I will anyway.”
He sighed and walked over to the counter where John was unpacking a crate of ammunition. John grinned as he leaned across the counter. “D’ya get yourself a mail-order bride?”
Trey glared at him. He thought the man knew him better than that. “No. Ma brought the widow and her girls with her.”
John straightened, still grinning. “That was mighty nice of her, don’t ya think?”
“Cut it out, and give me two boxes of cartridges for my Springfield.”
John turned to the shelves behind him, retrieved the boxes, and set them on the counter. He glanced around then leaned close again. “Ya know, if ya ain’t interested in that woman, there’s plenty of men around here who would be. Want me to pass the word?”
Trey nodded, but then he realized that meant he’d have a passel of eager men coming to his ranch to meet the widow. “Maybe we should give them some time to settle in first.”
“Ya sure?”
“Yeah. Wait two weeks, then you can start spreadin’ the word.”
“Will do.”
Trey nudged his chin toward the candy jars. “Let me have a half-dozen peppermint sticks.”
“Don’t go getting attached to them girls. Might be hard to part with them down the road.”
“I told you to cut it out.”
John attempted to smother his smile, but Trey wasn’t fooled. He turned and stalked down the closest aisle then skidded to a halt when he saw Mrs. Hunter patting Abby on the back.
“I know you like those boots, but we can’t buy anything new right now.”
“When can we?” Abby stuck out her lower lip.
“I don’t know.” Mrs. Hunter glanced up and spied him watching her. She straightened, her face looking paler than it had outside.
Trey spun around then headed down another aisle to get away from her. He didn’t like that he felt sorry for them. What kind of man didn’t make provisions for his wife to be taken care of if he died? He supposed it happened more often than not. Ofttimes a rancher’s wife had to sell out after he died. Still, it didn’t sit well with him.
Sadie swallowed the lump in her throat. Had Mr. Carpenter overheard what she said to Abby? She didn’t want his pity. “Come along, girls. We’ll wait for Ella and her son outside.”
“But Mama, I really want those boots. I need them if I’m gonna live on a ranch.”
“Hush, now.” Sadie tugged her daughter out the door, sure that her cheeks were as red as the boots Abby begged for. “Sit on that bench and quit asking for something I’ve already said you can’t have.”
Scowling, Abby climbed onto the wooden bench and crossed her arms. Sadie sat, placing Martha between her and Abby. If only they could go somewhere other than Trey Carpenter’s ranch. He didn’t want them there; that was clear. She could hardly blame him when he hadn’t known they were coming.
She studied the town. Sherman was much smaller than Kansas City, but it looked to have many of the same types of businesses. She’d seen several churches, doctors’ offices, a variety of stores, a livery, and others. This felt like a place where they could start over, but how did a woman go about that? Finding work would have been easier when she lived with Ella since she had offered to watch the children. If she was fortunate enough to find work in Sherman, what would she do with the girls, especially once Ella returned home?
She had no answers, and so far, God hadn’t opened any doors. Ella had felt certain Sadie would find a man in Texas who’d be happy to marry her. But she didn’t want to marry just to have a home. She wanted a man who would love her girls and be kind to them. She wasn’t in any big hurry to wed again, but it seemed the easiest solution to her problems. Please, Lord, send me a godly man.
Trey barreled through the doorway carrying a fifty-pound bag of flour. He dropped it into the back of the wagon, creating a white cloud of dust, then he trotted up the stairs again. His gaze flicked their way, but he kept walking. He made several trips to the wagon, carrying crates filled with all kinds of things. Did he feel the need to purchase those items in order to feed her family, or had he already planned to get them while in town?
Ella sashayed out the open door. “Ah, there you are. I wondered where you went. Did you see anything you needed?”
“No, but thank you for asking.” She had no money to buy anything, whether she needed it or not, and she wasn’t about to let Ella spend any more of her money on them.
“Mama—”
Sadie gave Abby a stern stare. Wisely,
her daughter chose not to mention the boots again. “Move over a bit, Abby, so Ella can sit.”
“I don’t mind standing after that long train ride. And we’ll be sitting for a while until we get to Trey’s ranch.”
Abby tugged on Sadie’s sleeve. “When are we gonna eat lunch?”
“I hungry!” Martha agreed, bouncing on her knees, smacking her lips.
Sadie tugged her reticule off her arm. “I saved my biscuit from breakfast.”
“Those girls need more than that.” Ella looked down the street. “I’m getting hungry, too. I think we should find a place to have lunch while we’re in town.” She spun around and re-entered the store. “Jimmy!”
Sadie wished she could disappear. Ella meant well, but either she or Trey would have to pay if they ate in town, and Sadie dreaded being any more beholden to either of them. Her rebellious stomach growled. She unwrapped the biscuit and broke off a piece, handing it to Martha. The girl smiled and stuck it in her mouth. Sadie passed a bigger piece to Abby. The biscuit would help them not be so hungry so they’d eat less if they did go to a restaurant.
Abby frowned. “If I eat that, it’ll make me thirsty.”
Sadie lifted an eyebrow. “If you’re hungry, you’ll eat it.”
Sighing, Abby took the biscuit and nibbled it.
Abby needed an attitude adjustment, but Sadie didn’t have the strength at the moment, and she didn’t want to make a public display. Once they got on the road, she hoped both girls would take a nap. Things had been hard on all of them since her mother and Franklin had died. And then they lost their home and most of their belongings to satisfy her husband’s debts. She blinked, fighting the tears stinging her eyes.
Trey strode out again, carrying a smaller crate under his left arm, his mother clinging to his right.
Ella smiled. “Trey said there’s a good café around the corner. Is anyone hungry?”
Abby cheered and slid off the bench, tossing the remains of the biscuit in the street. Sadie resisted scolding her. She would have been happy to eat it herself. She lifted Martha and made her way down the steps to the wagon. Trey had already helped Ella and Abby up, and he turned to her. She didn’t like the way her heart skipped at the thought of his hands on her waist again. He took Martha and passed her up to Ella then assisted Sadie. His touch on her waist was gentle, and he lifted her with no obvious effort. “Thank you, Mr. Carpenter.”
The Cowboy’s Bride Collection: 9 Historical Romances Form on Old West Ranches Page 32