Love Letters & Home (Whispers In Wyoming #1)
Page 2
“It’s a good idea,” Kade offered from around a large roll smeared with thick butter. “All those places belonged to the original James children. Now they’ll be guest cabins.”
“I ain’t saying it’s bad,” Mrs. Wade said, pouring iced tea into tall glasses. “I’m amazed at the things you’ve done around this place. That tired old bunk house is pretty as a picture now, and the fresh coat of paint on these old walls has the place lookin’ spry again.”
“The place was a little run down and outdated,” Philomena agreed, settling at the table and picking up an egg salad sandwich, “but the structure was sound.” She bit into the sandwich and sighed. She didn’t know what the woman put in the recipe, but it had to be the best in the world.
“I think you chose right nice colors,” Mrs. Wade continued. “This dove gray on the house with the white trim suits it to a T.”
“You don’t think the gingerbread trim is too much?” Phil asked.
“No, it ain’t like you overdid it. The trim adds a bit of style.”
Philomena smiled before taking a swig of her tea.
“How about the barn?” the housekeeper asked. “Is it ready yet?”
“Almost, I’ll move the mules up here next week sometime. Oh, and that’s what I was looking for you for, Phil.” His blue eyes fell on the young woman who’d turned his home upside down.
“Chase agreed to come out and see to the horses and trail rides. He’ll be here on Wednesday.”
“Chase Haven is coming back to town?” Mrs. Wade asked, her voice full of wonder.
“Yes ma’am,” Kade replied. “He’s bringing what’s left of his stock and once he sees how things are, I’m sure he’ll be happy to be in charge.”
“Well I never,” Mrs. Wade said, her eyes full of wonder. “When that boy’s daddy lost their ranch, he swore he’d never come back.”
“Things change, Mrs. Wade,” Kade retorted.
“As long as your egg salad never changes, Mrs. Wade," Phil gushed, "I don’t care what else does.” Philomena smiled, dispelling the tension between her two companions and reached for a second sandwich.
Lifting the soft, overly full roll, she turned to her cousin once more. “I’ve been assured that all of the structures will be ready in another month, our guest rooms are almost ready upstairs, and the barn is in good shape. What am I forgetting?”
“We might want some guests,” Kade chuckled.
“We’re on schedule to open in June,” Philomena mused, absently picking up an apple slice and nibbling it. “From my research, this location is perfect for a vacation spot. We’ve got the old forts, several frontier towns, not to mention Yellowstone isn’t so far away.”
“Folks over to Tipton are sure buzzin’ about the whole thing,” Mrs. Wade commented, picking up the few plates they’d used and heading for the discreetly disguised dishwasher.
“Maybe we should do something for the town?” Phil queried. “I’ll have to think about it. Now I’d better get to work.” She rose and headed down the hall, pausing to look at the old pictures that seemed to connect her to the ranch.
She smiled, her violet eyes bright as she looked at the picture of the man who reminded her so much of Kade.
“That was their wedding picture,” the big man said over her shoulder. “She was a mail-order-bride you know.”
“What? Really?”
“Yep, she was an orphan and married as soon as she turned eighteen.” He was silent for a few seconds then spoke again. “I kind of wish they still did that,” he admitted, his ears turning red, “I’m not much good at talkin’ to woman.”
“What do you mean? You don’t have any trouble talking to me.”
“Yeah, but you’re family, that’s different.”
“Kade, you didn’t even know me a month ago.”
The big man shrugged, his arms and shoulders seeming to take up all of the narrow space in the hallway.
Philomena scowled at him a moment. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” She shook her head when a deep blush was his only answer.
“It’s probably not the same, but my best friend from college said there is a match-making agency that puts couples together. If you ask me, it’s crazy, though, agreeing to marry someone without even meeting them first.”
“Really?” Kade asked, true wonder and perhaps a hint of hope in his voice.
“Yep, she said some crazy woman with purple hair sets the things up.” She scowled again. “Apparently, every match to date has been successful. I could get the number for you if you want me to.”
“No, that’s alright,” Kade’s voice was low, his blue eyes serious. “I’d better get back to work. I want to move the mules and wagon to the main barn as soon as it’s ready.” Without a backward glance, he squeezed past Phil and slipped through the door.
Chapter 3
Chase Haven drove his battered pickup truck along the rutted road toward one of the oldest ranches in the area. It had been a lot of years since he’d been down this track to visit his friend.
“You’re a blamed fool,” he grumbled at himself, making the turn toward the ranch and skidding to a halt.
Where once a rundown old fence had stood, a high arched sign stretched across the road, emblazoned with the ranch’s name. In the distance a big barn jutted its peaked roof into the blue Wyoming sky defiantly, it’s aging walls now patched with new wood that filled old wounds.
Chase rubbed the stubble along his chin, his keen blue eyes taking in the changes around him. The big, two story house had a fresh coat of paint, and some curly-que stuff on the edge of the porch roof.
In the big corral, he could make out Kade’s big red mules grazing beneath the shadow of the ancient windmill with a few horses that looked small next to the bigger team. For a moment, he squinted into the distance at the bunk house, its once blackened logs now a deep muted red.
“Boy howdy,” he whispered, “times are a changing.” He pushed his boot toe on the gas pedal once more, rolling on through the arch and mentally back in time.
A crooked grin spread across the ragged cowboy’s face as Chase rumbled into the yard, pulling to a stop in front of the sturdy corral.
Something else was new at the ranch, too. He’d certainly never seen the pretty dark-haired woman wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and cowboy boots who stood on the front porch, a letter in hand.
He didn’t even try to stop his grin as he let his eyes take in her shapely legs while he opened his door and began to slide out of his truck, still studying her in the large trailer mirrors of his old truck.
Philomena lifted her eyes from the letter in her hand. She had dug through the old trunk from the attic two days ago, sorting out an array of antique treasures, and was barely able to put the letters down, but she did a double take as a pair of long legs, encased in faded denim, unfolded themselves from the battered red pickup truck.
Still watching over the edge of her letter, Phil noted scuffed and worn boots make contact with the dusty yard, then let her eyes climb upward, taking in the lean legs and narrow hips of the driver. As her eyes roamed the lanky form, they moved up to a blue and white flannel shirt pulled tight across broad shoulders that were covered by shaggy blonde curls.
Philomena lips tugged into a smile. This was the best-looking thing that had rolled on to her property since she’d arrived. Perhaps not the well-groomed type she’d grown used to in the city, but this one had the earthy, raw appeal that drew your eye just the same.
Lifting her eyes from where they’d strayed on the man’s hip pockets, Phil’s amethyst gaze collided with lapis blue ones staring back from under a twisted, gray hat.
“Chase!” Kade’s excited voice echoed from the depths of the dark barn as her hulking cousin trotted from the structure to embrace his old friend in a bear hug.
Seizing her chance at escape, Philomena ducked back into the house and away from the riveting eyes of the man who could only be her new head wrangler.
Phil stepped into t
he coolness of the big ranch house, the quiet interior at once familiar and foreign, then moved to her new desk that sat below the window overlooking the barn yard.
It had been the most practical choice, converting the room on the first floor to both bedroom and office. The space was large, comfortable and airy, and with the addition of a hip wall and arch, she’d easily been able to separate the living area from the office. Adding the bathroom suite had been more challenging.
A light breeze fluttered the yellow pages of the missive in Philomena’s hand, and she turned her attention back to the letter from her great-great grandmother, Muiread James-Allen.
Dear Katie,
I’m writing to you knowing you will share this letter with the family. Clayton and I are having the most amazing time in Chicago. The city is so noisy and there are more people than even I could have imagined.
Last night Clay took me to the opera house and I nearly cried when I heard Amy Beach play the piano. I never knew that being married could be so wonderful, and now that Clayton and I have agreed to bury the hatchet, we get along wonderfully. Though I must admit, he seems to enjoy tweaking my temper.
Tomorrow we are going to see the cattle buyers and hopefully will secure a good deal for the Broken J. Clayton assures me that he’ll be able to hold his own against the big bosses of this city, which can only be good for the ranch.
Our hotel is opulent, and I almost feel guilty spending the money, but Clay insisted that we have a real honeymoon. He’s been telling me more about his family, and how he thinks his mother would have liked me. I hope we’ll be able to visit his home state sometime, but for now we are content with traveling on business for the ranch.
Tomorrow we’re going to visit Uncle Jonas, though perhaps I won’t go into his place of business. Still I do admit to being highly curious about what it must be like. Hank assured me before we left home that it was more of an eatery than a true saloon, and that most laborers drink beer because the water is often unsafe in a big city like Chicago.
Although the areas of the city I’ve seen so far have been truly amazing, full of skyscrapers and shops, I know that some areas are quite poor and at times the smells of horse and refuse is overwhelming as we drive though in a hired cab.
Please give my love to everyone while I’m away.
“Phil?” Kade’s deep voice broke through the spell the letter had cast over his cousin, and Philomena dragged herself back to the present. “Chase is here.”
“Chase!” The loud screech of Mrs. Wade’s voice echoed down the hall as the older woman scurried down the hall and threw her arms around the lean cowboy standing in the doorway. “I declare, I never,” the housekeeper cried, pulling back then hugging the man tight again.
“Mrs. Wade,” the blonde man spoke, his hat tipping precariously on his head as the woman squeezed him once more. “It’s a pleasure to see you, ma’am.”
“Look at you, all grown up,” the housekeeper nattered on, pulling back and examining him critically, “bit scrawny if you ask me, though.” She shook her head, her arms still holding to his sides.
“They don’t like bronc riders to be too heavy,” the tall man said. “They prefer us willowy.” His blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Well you just come on into the kitchen and I’ll get you something to eat,” Mrs. Wade said, turning. “I know Kade will have you worked to the bone in no time,” she finished, disappearing into the recesses of the house.
The lean bronc buster pulled the hat from his head with a grin. “Didn’t know I’d be eating Mrs. Wade’s cookin’ again,” he said, his eyes drifting to Philomena. “I guess I’ll be working for you, though,” he finished more seriously.
“My cousin assures me you’ll make the best possible head wrangler and that you have a string of horses you can use for trail rides.”
“Yes, I’ve got a few head of good saddle horses. I’m looking forward to having them all in one place again.”
“Good,” Phil said with a mischievous grin. “I look forward to riding again.” Her eyes raked him from head to toe before she turned and headed back to her office. “You’d better go eat whatever Mrs. Wade’s fixed for you before she starts yelling.”
As she slipped through the door a loud harrumph emanated from the kitchen, evidence of Mrs. Wade’s displeasure.
Chased raised an eyebrow, tipping his head to watch the attractive woman sashay through the open door of the office. Summer could be mighty warm with a boss like that.
Phil plopped down on the high stool at her desk. She’d almost forgotten they still made men like Chase Haven, rough and ready and in need of the services of a barber. Her marketing and public relations job had exposed her to a variety of A-type personality men, but none of them had exuded the sheer, untamed masculinity of the lean rider.
Shaking her head to clear it of his image, Phil turned back to the work at hand. She had too much to do to make the ranch a success as a vacation destination to be distracted by a tight pair of jeans and sparking blue eyes.
For a moment, her eyes strayed back to the letters penned so many years ago by her ancestor, but turned away from the neatly piled scripts. “Website,” she said aggressively, slipping back into professional mode and shutting the rest of the world out.
Chapter 4
“You made good time getting here,” Kade Ballard spoke, lifting his glass of tea in toast as he studied his old friend.
“I didn’t have anything to keep me,” Chase offered, lifting the fat sandwich of cold meats and cheeses with a grin. “I’ve been riding to pay boarding fees the past couple of years, so when you called and said you could provide work and board for my horses, it was a no brainer.”
“When will the horses arrive?” Kade’s question was soft.
“Next week if the barn’s ready. I’ve gathered all twenty-five horses from all over Wyoming.” Chase ran a hand through his blonde locks with a sigh. “I never thought I’d see the day.” His voice held wonder.
“I’m glad it came together this way,” Kade agreed with a nod. “I sure was sweatin’ in my shoes before Phil took over.”
“I know you were worried when old Baron told you some city slicker had inherited the ranch. I’m glad it worked out.”
“It was an answer to my prayers, for sure,” Kade agreed. “She’s even made me full partner on the ranch as a whole and she listens to my advice.”
“Smart and pretty then,” Chase teased wickedly.
“So how do things lay out? When do the first guest arrive? Who’ll be workin’ with me? No offense, Kade, but I don’t have a horse that’ll carry your bulk.”
Kade’s deep chuckle rumbled through the kitchen. “First guest will be comin’ mid-June. As much as we’d like to have paying folks here earlier, Phil thinks it’s best to be one-hundred percent ready first.
“That makes sense.”
“We still need to do hiring for any other wranglers and hands. Mrs. Wade has been interviewing wait staff and housekeeping, though most meals will be served family style or for big shindigs, we’ll have catered barbeque.”
“What kind of shindigs are you thinking about?”
“Phil was thinking we’d have a bit of a rodeo on the 4th of July to christen the ranch, as well as providing an outing for the towns folk to develop some good will.”
“Smart.” Chase nodded, taking another big bite of his sandwich. “Has there been any push back in Tipton?”
“No, Tipton’s onboard and I thought the plan sounded pretty spot on,” Kade agreed. “You willing to do a little bronc bustin’ for us?”
Chase smiled around the delectable sandwich, then nodded. “I reckon I can pitch in a bit. I’ve got plans, you know.”
“Chase Haven should surely draw a few extras out for the day, don’t you think?”
This time Chase shook his head. “My rodeo days are done my friend, especially if this dude ranch thing works out. If using my horses for trail rides can flesh out my account and I can get a place o
f my own, I’ll be back to breeding top quarter horses in no time.”
“You still haven’t given up, have you?” Kade asked. “You seem calmer about it now then you did when you swore you’d never come back here.”
“I was an angry young man when I left Wyoming. Angry at my father, angry at the world.” He shook his head, his eyes growing sad. “I’ve finally been able to let that go.”
“What changed?” the big man asked.
“My heart.” Chase’s reply was gentle.
Kade reached a big hand across the table, “I’m glad you’ve found your peace, my friend.” He growled as Chase grasped it in his own. “Now let’s get to work.”
“Your grandfather wouldn’t recognize this place,” Chase called, walking into the barn and examining the newly reconstructed stalls and tack room a few minutes later.
From the outside, the barn looked like any other typical aging barn in Wyoming, but on the inside, it was a modern, airy and comfortable home for any equine.
“Looks like my critters will be living in style,” Chase grinned.
A large rust-colored head jutted out of one of the stalls, huffing softly at Kade’s chuckle.
“Jack and Scott seem to like it.” He sidled up to the big Missouri mule, scratching him under his jaw.
“You still keeping up that old tradition?” Chase laughed, running a hand down the oversized mule’s shinny hide.
“Yep, ever since Hank Ballard brought his big team to the Broken J, we Ballards have kept a draft team and named them after the originals, Jack and Scott.”
Chase shook his head with a laugh.
“What, it’s a tradition,” Kade protested with a grin.
The big red mule huffed, nodding his head as if in agreement and making both men laugh.
“We got enough room for my string?” Chase asked, moving down the rows of stalls.
“We’re keeping the old Allen place up and there’s good pasture and shelter for horses that aren’t working out in the field,” Kade offered, nodding toward the open pasture at the back of the barn.