Montana Sky: Amanda's Rancher (Kindle Worlds) (Loving A Rancher Book 1)

by Caroline Clemmons

  She set Iris on the bed then lay down beside her. “Iris, look how Mommy can stretch out to sleep tonight. Isn’t this wonderful?”

  Iris flopped back beside her. “Me, too. And dolly.”

  “Yes, you and dolly can sleep on a real bed tonight. And the bed won’t move or make sounds. We’ll sleep well, won’t we?”

  “And my other mama?”

  “She’s an angel, Dear, and doesn’t need sleep. She’ll watch over you all the time, even when you’re asleep.”

  Although they’d had this discussion repeatedly since her sister’s death, Iris appeared to think over the idea as if it were new. With a huge sigh, she curled against Amanda and closed her eyes, clutching her doll closely.

  Amanda pulled a coverlet over them and cuddled Iris to her. In the days since her sister’s death, she’d become even more fond of Iris. The girl was precious, but far too quiet and serious for a three-year-old.

  Amanda tried to remember what she was like at that age. She’d been quiet and serious. She didn’t know if those were family characteristics or from her unorthodox upbringing. Due to people treating her as if she were tainted by her mother’s occupation, she avoided speaking to them when she could. Even at twenty-two, she was still quiet and had to fight shyness when working with the public back at home.

  No, Barley Town was never home but she vowed Montana Territory would be. For all purposes, Mara O’Sullivan was buried, complete with headstone. Although most of her reward was depleted, she couldn’t lament a proper burial for her sister or regret the duplicity that offered her and Iris a chance at a normal life.

  But, she regretted being cheated out of knowing her sister all these years. She hated she’d be missing out sharing with her for the rest of their lives. A few days hardly made up for being lonely all her life. What a shame that a twenty-four-year-old woman had bled to death from a miscarriage in this day and age.

  Was there any fairness in this world? Maybe the world hadn’t been fair to Mara O’Sullivan or Amanda Eppes, but she was determined that Iris would have the best, most secure life possible. She’d promised Iris’ mother, and she always kept her word. Starting now, things were looking up.

  Tomorrow, the Good Lord willing, Preston Kincaid would show up, marry her, and take her and Iris to his ranch. All she required was a kind man and a secure home. She’d be the housekeeper and cook he’d expected and he’d never know how close he’d come to being disappointed. Clyde Snyder would never know where she’d gone. If only she could remember to watch her speech and speak as refined as her sister had.

  Thank you, Lord, for this chance. Forgive me if what I’m doing is wrong.

  Chapter Four

  Mrs. Murphy’s cooking lived up to Mary Norton’s praise. Fried chicken with potatoes, gravy, green beans, corn, and biscuits soothed her hunger pangs.

  Amanda told her hostess, “Your food tastes as good as it smells. I’m afraid I’ve made a pig of myself.”

  Frail-looking Thomas Murphy nodded. “Lavinia is a good cook.”

  Mrs. Murphy beamed under the praise.

  Iris asked, “May I please have another drumstick?”

  The landlady held the platter so Iris could grab the piece of chicken with her hands. “What a well-mannered child.”

  “Thank you. You’re kind to say so. Iris and I are both happy to be on firm land.”

  “And tomorrow you’ll become Preston Kincaid’s wife. He’s a lucky man, but you’re lucky too. Handsome as sin he is and always polite.”

  “That’s good to hear, Mrs. Murphy. Being a mail-order bride is a bit terrifying. Especially since I have to look out for Iris’ welfare.”

  Thomas Murphy set down his coffee cup. “You don’t have a thing to worry about, young woman. Both the Kincaids have excellent reputations. I haven’t seen their ranch, but I’ve heard good things about the place.”

  She helped Mrs. Murphy with the dishes then she and Iris went up to their room. Amanda was so nervous she didn’t think she could sleep, but she put Iris to bed and sorted through their belongings. Eventually, fatigue won and she sought the bed.

  Early the next morning, she dressed in the cream satin and lace dress designed as a wedding dress that her sister must have worn for her first wedding. The low neckline caused Amanda to blush, but the border of pink silk roses and green leaves enchanted her. Roses adorned the bodice and the skirts and there were three attached to combs for her hair instead of a veil.

  Twirling in front of the mirror, she had to admit the bodice’s deep vee flattered her figure. At least the dress’ train had been removed. She couldn’t imagine traipsing down the dusty street while managing several feet of trailing satin.

  The dress was far too fine for a wedding in this sandy little town. She’d decided to wear the gown to preserve her genteel Southern belle identity. She had no idea what her groom expected, but she wanted to impress him and the townspeople who’d see her on the way to and from the church.

  Slipping the real Amanda’s wedding ring from her finger, she placed it in the jewel case. Someday, she’d remind Iris of her real mother and pass the ring on to her. For now, she returned the jewel case to her valise.

  She dressed Iris in the blue cotton sateen trimmed in frilly white lace the girl had worn the first day they’d met. She fluffed the white bow in Iris’ hair. “There, you look like a princess from a storybook.”

  Iris smiled. “Dolly too.”

  “Yes, your dolly looks pretty.”

  Amanda clasped her waist and closed her eyes. Once more she offered up a prayer.

  As Isaac blessed duplicitous Jacob, Father, I ask your blessing on Iris’ and my future. I know you grieved at Amanda’s death as I did, but I believe you used me as the instrument to protect Iris. I promise to be the best mother for her that I know how. Forgive me for lying about my name, but I see no other way to protect myself so I can raise Iris. Thank you for this opportunity for a normal life, Dear Heavenly Father. I’m grateful for Your divine intervention.

  At ten o’clock, a rap sounded at the door. She heard Mrs. Murphy talking to someone. Amanda picked up her valise and took Iris’ hand. They descended the stairs as Mrs. Murphy ushered in a handsome man and made introductions.

  He was taller than she’d imagined, at least four inches over six feet. His broad shoulders appeared strong and she didn’t see any sign of fat in his physique. Dark hair was just to the collar of the black suit he wore under a long duster.

  Her bones threatened to give way and leave her a puddle on the floor. She clasped her trembling hands in front of her to hide their shaking. Dear heavens, this man was to be her husband.

  His blue eyes grew wide when he saw her. His mouth worked before he clamped it shut. Removing his gray western hat, he took a deep breath. “I hope you’re recovered from your illness. If you’re ready, we have a long day ahead.”

  “This is my daughter, Iris. Dear, this man is to be your new daddy and we’ll go live on his ranch.”

  With unusual bravery, Iris yanked on his duster. “Do you have a kitty?”

  A smile twitched at his lips. “As a matter of fact, Iris, one of the barn cats has four kittens. I don’t suppose you like kitties, do you?”

  She nodded, her eyes round.

  “I’m willing to bet the kitties will like you, too.” He picked up Iris and looked at Amanda. “Shall we go?”

  She grabbed her valise she set down during their introductions. “Goodbye, Mrs. Murphy. Thank you for your kindness.”

  “Best wishes to all three of you.” The woman closed the door behind them.

  Preston reached for the bag. “I’ll carry that for you. You grab on to the arm holding your daughter.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kincaid.” She was relieved to see her trunks and dish barrels on the wagon in front of the Murphy’s, as well as to learn she wouldn’t have to traipse down the dusty street in her finery. Along with her luggage, there appeared to be rolls of bedding.

  Above them, the deep azure sky
spread forever. She’d never seen such a sky. A gentle breeze reminded her that her shoulders were mostly bare. She wished she’d thought to leave a shawl out of her bag.

  “I’d prefer you call me Preston. And I’d like to call you Amanda or Mandy.”

  “Either is fine. Mama called me Mandy, but most people use Amanda.” When they reached the wagon, she faced him. “Before we’re wed, I’d like to be certain of two things. One, you won’t hit Iris or me. Two, you’re a man of your word.”

  He sent her a glare that could have frozen her. “Out here a man’s word decides his reputation and I have a good one. And I give you my word that I will never hit you or Iris any of our other children—unless we have a boy who needs a switching. I don’t hold with hurting those weaker than me, but I expect rules to be followed for safety.”

  “Yes, I can understand that. You know I meant beating, though, don’t you, and not switching or spanking?” She should have asked about drunkenness but she had already pushed away his good humor.

  He gave a curt nod. “I do, but I suppose you’re best off to be clear.”

  He set Iris on the wagon seat then helped Amanda climb aboard. She was relieved to see he’d padded the seat with a folded quilt.

  “Thank you for collecting my luggage. I worried about it but Mrs. Norton said Mr. Waite saved it for you.”

  He chuckled. “Jack Waite never moves far from his rocker and the stove. He suffers from rheumatism and his joints ache. He manages to get others to stir around for him.”

  “I’m surprised to see mules pulling your wagon. I believe you said you have horses as well as cattle.”

  “Mules can pull a heavier load. Figured you’d have heavy trunks and such. You brought a lot with you.”

  “Everything I could, Mr…Preston. I brought all the bank would let me salvage. I had to leave pieces of furniture that meant a great deal to me, but at least I have our clothes and some odds and ends.”

  She didn’t bother to explain that the real Amanda’s cook had smuggled out the kitchen worker’s dishes and cutlery before the banker showed up. Nonnie had known her sister all her life and must have been a treasure, but Amanda didn’t feel good about the supplies. To her, Nonnie and the real Amanda had cheated the bank.

  She had to let that go for now. “How long will it take to reach your ranch?”

  “The journey is almost two days, so the sooner we leave town, the better.”

  They reached the church and Preston jumped down from the wagon and came around to help her alight. With a smile, he lifted Iris high over his head before he set her on the ground. Her giggle brought tears to Amanda’s eyes.

  That was the first time she’d ever heard her daughter make the girlish sound. Iris had smiled, spoken, but never laughed until she met Preston Kincaid. For that alone, Amanda would be the best wife she knew how to be.

  Inside the church, Mrs. Norton handed Amanda a bouquet of daisies secured with a white ribbon. The interior was plain with wooden benches and an altar raised one step above the rest of the floor. Although there were several windows, none had stained-glass as did the churches she’d seen in Georgia.

  The minister was waiting at the front of the church and wore a black frock coat and matching string tie. His brown hair and beard were thickly streaked with gray. He stood at a simple lectern with what looked like a Bible in one hand while he conversed with another man.

  Amanda was surprised only one other person besides Reverend and Mrs. Norton was in the sanctuary. She’d supposed Preston had many friends in the area and thought at least his ranch hands would attend. The second man turned and proved to be an older version of her groom who came forward to greet her.

  Preston cupped her elbow. “Amanda and Iris, this is my father. Most folks call him Tom, but I call him Papa.”

  Amanda smiled at the handsome man who must be around fifty. He was tall, but maybe an inch shorter than his son. Silver sprinkled the same dark hair.

  She asked, “May I call you Papa, too?”

  He beamed his pleasure and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’d be honored. And in the absence of your father, may I walk you down the aisle?”

  “Would you? I’d be ever so grateful.” She laid her hand on his arm. Nerves had set in and she needed his support or her knees might give way.

  Preston said, “Iris, why don’t you stand with me while my papa walks Mama to meet us?”

  Iris shook her head. “Mommy, not my old mama?”

  Preston frowned. “Old mama?”

  Panic sent bile into her throat that threatened to choke her. She sensed her cheeks heat in a blush. Don’t throw up on your wedding dress. “Perhaps you remember my mother recently died.”

  Sympathy shone from his blue eyes. “Of course.” He took Iris’ hand in his and strode to the front.

  Mrs. Norton began playing the piano. She nodded toward Amanda. Papa Kincaid gently led her up the aisle.

  Walking toward her husband, Preston’s stare bored into Amanda, as if he could see into her mind and knew her for an impostor. Although he held Iris’ hand, the intensity of his blue gaze unnerved her. She wondered if he was disappointed or if he were as numb as she.

  Thankful for the presence of her future father-in-law beside her, she tightened her hold on Mr. Kincaid’s arm.

  In response, he patted her hand her where it laid on his sleeve. Without looking at her, he whispered. “Steady as you go. We’re almost there.”

  Iris gave a tiny wave and Amanda couldn’t resist smiling at the child. The little girl truly was a blessing. Focusing on Iris gave Amanda a target she could face.

  When they reached the front, Mrs. Norton ceased playing. Preston took the bouquet from Amanda’s hands. “Iris, would you hold this for Mommy so she and I can be married?”

  Iris looked at him adoringly and reached to receive the flowers. Reverend Norton opened his Bible and began the ceremony. Preston took Amanda’s hands in his. She was conscious of his calluses, but also of the size and strength of his palms dwarfing hers.

  When the minister indicated, Preston slipped a ring onto her finger. This new one belongs to me, even if my groom doesn’t know my true name.

  After the ceremony, Preston brushed his lips gently against hers.

  Iris clapped a hand across her mouth in surprise then said, “Mommy? That man kissed you.”

  Preston knelt eye-to-eye with her. “I’m your new Daddy, remember? Mommy and I were just married and now I can kiss her whenever she says it’s okay. Do you think you can call me Daddy?”

  Iris nodded. “Are you gonna kiss me too?”

  He smiled broadly. “I certainly am.” He leaned forward and gave her a loud smack on the cheek.

  The child giggled. Twice in one day this kind man had made Iris happy. Amanda owed Preston all her wifely devotion.

  Mrs. Norton said, “You can change clothes in the parsonage. That dress is too fine to ride in a wagon for two days.”

  “If you don’t mind, Preston, I’d like to change. I know you’re in a hurry, but I’ll be quick.”

  He gave a slight bow. “Of course. Reckon I should change too. While we’re in town, if there’s anything you need, you’d better pick it up.”

  “If you can spare the time, I’d like some calico to sew simple dresses for Iris so she can run and play. I-I didn’t have an opportunity to make them before we left Atlanta.”

  “Good idea. She’d soon ruin the one she has on if she’s going to play with barn cats.”

  Amanda took Iris by the hand. “We’ll just need our bag from the wagon and we’ll be ready in no time.”

  Mrs. Norton helped her remove her wedding dress and the lady folded the garment gently. “Don’t forget to wear a bonnet. If you have a parasol, you’ll benefit from using it. You need to take care of your fair skin.”

  The parasol had been abandoned on the train when she ushered her sister toward help. She hoped there was another in one of the trunks. For now, Amanda pulled her hat from the valise. />
  “The straw’s crushed, but Iris and I both have hats.” She straightened them as much as possible then donned hers. “We mustn’t keep your new daddy waiting, Iris, let Mommy tie this under your chin.”

  Mrs. Norton said, “I’ve had your groom add a basket of food to the wagon. I try to do that for all the brides.”

  Amanda hugged her. “You are the kindest person. I’m so lucky to know you. I hope to see you again soon.”

  “Oh, I know you can’t come into Sweetwater Springs in bad weather, but we hope you’ll attend services when you can.”

  “I’ll count on doing so.” After a goodbye wave, she let her new husband set her on the wagon seat and drive to the mercantile while his father sat in back on a trunk.

  Chapter Five

  Inside the mercantile, familiar scents greeted her. She picked up the aroma of pickles, coffee, cinnamon, and something tangy. Amanda headed straight for the fabrics so she wouldn’t delay the Kincaids.

  Papa Kincaid stopped at the counter and spoke to the slouched man and pinch-faced woman while Preston followed slowly behind her.

  The woman wore a frown as she approached. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

  “Calico for play dresses for my daughter.” Amanda held up the cloth of two bolts. “I like this one in blue and the green also. And white for pinafores.”

  “Hmph, guess so with that red hair a blaze. You’d better get something for curtains as well. I doubt the Kincaid men ever bothered.”

  Preston must have heard because he turned red. “Mrs. Cobb’s right, but you might want to see the house before you decide on curtain fabric.”

  Amanda paused and met his gaze. “What do you think is best, Preston?”