“Glory is fleeting, but obscurity is forever,” Marty murmured.
“What does that mean?” Alice questioned.
Marty smiled. “It means that we are once again nothing more to the Kountzes than the dust beneath their feet.” She smiled. “Napoleon Bonaparte once said it. He had his glory and fame, his wealth and successes, but also his failings and defeats. I suppose that is a part of everyone’s life in one degree or another.”
Alice nodded. “It certainly was so in my life. I always fancied I would marry a man who was amply positioned—perhaps a bank employee like my father. I thought I would be a wife and mother and live in relative comfort.” A tiny laugh escaped. “Guess it was only one of my many mistaken assumptions.”
“We have all had them,” Marty admitted. “Some of us more than others.”
Alice took hold of her arm. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and catch the tram home. I’m freezing and you need to take better care of yourself now that you’re to be a mother.”
Marty gave Alice a look that suggested being a mother might well be yet another mistaken assumption. Alice refused to let Marty’s worries control the moment, however. “When we get back to the orphanage I will make you some hot tea.”
Marty smiled. “Or I will make you a cup. We are equals now—sisters really. No longer employee and employer.”
Alice smiled. “Sisters? I like that idea. I’ve always wanted a sister.”
That evening, Marty sat watching flames dance in the bedroom hearth. She absentmindedly placed her hand over her stomach and pondered the possibilities. Would God allow her to carry this child to term? She was already further along than the previous times.
She thought of Jake and wondered if he would be happy at the news. No doubt he would be delighted. He had once mentioned wanting children. It was strange how their marriage had come about from a simple newspaper advertisement, but now it was more precious to Marty than she could have ever imagined.
We were only going to be good friends, she remembered. Companions who would ease the loneliness of having lost their spouses. Companions who would say and do all the proper things expected of them by society.
Marty remembered the snubbing she’d received by the Kountzes earlier in the day. It wasn’t the first. There had been several occasions when she’d been downtown and her former so-called friends had turned away as if ashamed. Marty was not from a famous family or a well-moneyed background. Her Texas family was better off than many, but only because they had worked long and hard at ranching.
Thoughts of Hannah and Will came to mind. She knew she owed her sister a letter. Hannah had written the week before to beg Marty to come back to Texas. Marty had told her of Jake’s decision to head to Texas for work while she remained behind in Denver with Alice. Hannah didn’t like the idea and thought it much too dangerous. She even said that Will had a position for Jake and that Marty should tell him right away.
“But I can’t tell him if I don’t know how to reach him.”
It was over a month since he’d gone and still she had no word. Perhaps he had been killed or wounded. Maybe he had given up on Marty and simply disappeared.
“And if he has, what will I do then?” she whispered to no one.
The thought of being alone—truly alone—frightened her. Here at the orphanage in the company of so many, Marty was too busy to feel lonely. But what would happen when she began showing? Would people assume a dalliance with Mr. Brentwood? Even Alice thought there were feelings on his part, though Marty was certain she was wrong. Still, two women living at the orphanage with a widower was hardly the best of circumstances.
Time was slipping away, and Marty knew it wouldn’t be long before she would be forced to make a decision. Why did these things have to be so hard? Why did she always have to face the worst of it alone?
But you aren’t alone. The whispered words fell across her heart like balm.
She smiled and drew in a long deep breath. “No, I’m not alone. I have the Lord. I have Alice.” She gently rubbed her stomach. “And for now . . . I have you.”
Chapter 6
Robert Barnett always enjoyed the ride over Fort Worth way. Today was no exception. The weather was beautiful and the humidity low. He preferred Fort Worth to Dallas, even though the ride was longer. Fort Worth was like wearing a pair of comfortable boots and old jeans, while Dallas felt more like donning your Sunday best. It was all a matter of preference, he supposed. As Robert recalled, his younger sisters preferred Dallas.
“Looks to be a good turnout for the sale,” his father said, interrupting Robert’s thoughts.
Robert had also noticed the swelling crowd. “You gonna buy some of those Aberdeen Angus this time around?”
“I’d sure like to. I’ve heard great things about them. They’re a hardy bunch, and the calves are thicker, heavier at weaning time. Seems we ought to at least give it a try. Wanna stay away from those Durhams, though. I read in the Journal there are too many birth defects with them. Last thing we want is to put a bunch of calves down.”
“I’m guessin’ we’ll find both here at the sale.” Robert had been attending cattle sales with his father for as long as he could remember. Sometimes his mother even came along and enjoyed a day of shopping, but not this time. “I have to say I’m partial to the flavor the Angus-longhorn crossbred gives. I think we’d do well to incorporate the breed into our herds.”
“Seems most folks here agree with you.” A number of men were already gathered around the Black Angus sale pen. “Guess I’d better be ready to part with a good bit of money.”
A year ago the Stock Raisers Association had changed their name to the Cattle Raisers Association of Texas and headquartered themselves in Fort Worth. Robert was glad to hear about the change now that they were able to participate with the group on a regular basis. Such associations were beneficial and made ranchers stronger as they stood together. This association had seen them through the closed-range issues, the drought of the ’80s, and the recent economic failures and drought of the ’90s. Issues of disease, the introduction of new breeds, and innovations for raising profitability were also addressed. Robert found the information of great use, as did his father.
“Where’d Mr. Atherton and Mr. Reid get off to?” Robert asked after his father finished the business of registering with the salespeople.
“Lookin’ at horses. Brandon Reid is always lookin’ to improve his herd. The man’s gained himself a reputation as an expert on horseflesh.”
Robert nodded. The mount he rode today was sired by a Reid stallion. The sorrel stood sixteen hands high and was a mix of Thoroughbred and American Paint. Robert had never known a cow horse with better instinct. The gait was easy, too. Robert could sit for hours in the saddle. He’d owned the horse since it was a colt and had been the only one to break and ride him. Aunt Marty had teased him about the horse he affectionately called Rojoe, a play on the Spanish word rojo—meaning red. When Robert had first learned to read Spanish, he had insisted the word was pronounced with a strong J sound instead of the H the Spanish used. Marty had given him such a hard time about it that it had become a running joke.
“We’ll all meet up for the discussion on increasing profits. I can’t say there’s much hope during this panic, but you never know,” Robert’s father said, moving to remount his black. “Meanwhile, I’d like to take a look at some of those Angus.”
The day passed in a flurry of activities. Robert went with his father to consider the Angus, after which the older man was determined to buy a young bull and three breeder cows. They looked into some of the other breeds, listened to the lectures on how to survive the lack of water and decent range grass, saw some of the new barbed wire available for fencing, and heard a highly regarded veterinarian speak on a new dip to eradicate Texas tick fever.
Robert listened as his father made deals on new watering tanks and lumber for building another barn and pen, as well as other supplies. Sometimes William Barnett allowed his so
n to barter for some of the ranch needs, but most often Robert simply accompanied his father. He had learned a great deal by keeping his mouth closed and his eyes and ears open. It was to his benefit that his father handled business and helped Robert establish relationships and connections in the industry.
Of course the Cattle Raisers Association was in and of itself a school of training for the men who sought to make a living raising Texas cattle. The state’s weather could be ruthless and unforgiving—sending droughts, floods, tornadoes, and even blizzards. The ranchers had endured a great deal over the years, and only by helping one another learn from their mistakes, banding together in difficult times, and making changes to how operations were managed had they thrived.
“Ready to grab something to eat?” Tyler Atherton asked Will.
Robert felt a little uneasy around the man many presumed would one day become his father-in-law. He’d grown up as just another one of the Barnett children, but as his mother conspired with Tyler’s wife, Carissa, to put Jessica and Robert together, Robert felt Mr. Atherton watched him with an especially critical eye.
“I’m starved,” Robert’s father said. “Where’s Brandon?”
“Tied up right now with some horse trading. Said he’d join us across the street.” Atherton motioned to one of the larger restaurants set up to accommodate the cowboys and ranchers.
Will nodded and the threesome headed out. Robert couldn’t help but wonder if the topic of his marrying Jessica would come up. Mr. Atherton and his father weren’t usually given to such conversational issues, but Robert couldn’t be sure.
They placed their orders for fried chicken dinners, which came complete with biscuits, gravy, and grits. Robert hadn’t realized how hungry he’d gotten until the serving woman placed a huge platter of chicken and one of biscuits in front of them. She quickly followed with bowls of gravy, grits, and another platter of biscuits.
Robert’s father paid the woman and then turned to Tyler. “You wanna offer grace, or are we gonna wait for Bran?”
Tyler grinned. “If he don’t know when to come to dinner, that ain’t my problem. Let’s pray.”
Will offered a short blessing before the trio dug in. Robert sank his teeth into a crispy chicken breast and smiled at the most satisfactory flavor. He was on his second piece when Brandon Reid finally showed up. Brandon eyed the diminished platter of chicken.
“Looks like I barely made it in time.”
“You know how it is,” Tyler teased. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
“And we had to eat,” Will added with a grin.
Brandon wasted no time in gathering food to his plate. “Well, while you three were sitting here stuffing your faces, I made a great deal for some new horseflesh. Craziest animals you’ve ever seen—got a curly coat.”
“Why’d you want to go with that?” Tyler asked.
The question seemed to take Brandon by surprise. “Well, I figured if it was smart to diversify your cattle breeds to make them stronger and fatter, maybe I could come up with a new hardy breed of horse. These curlies are stout but have really great spirits. They aren’t afraid of anything. Could come in mighty handy in a cow horse.”
“Gotta give you that,” Will said, grabbing up another biscuit. He immediately sopped it in gravy and bit off a huge chunk.
Robert listened to his elders talk about their purchases and endeavors until the conversation turned to him.
“So what about you, Robert? You find anything worth buyin’?” Tyler asked.
Robert looked up from his plate. “Saw some great Angus with Pa. Should be interesting to see how they do, although they don’t seem much suited to our climate. From what the man said, they have a hard time with the heat.”
Tyler nodded. “But Angus have a good reputation for cross-breeding with the longhorns. Should improve the stock. Instead of twelve hundred pounders we’ll get upwards to two thousand.”
“Well, given the talk we just heard,” Robert’s father began, “I’m beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t consider opportunities to invest in slaughterhouses back east. Seems Texas cattle are getting noticed, and it might be one way to diversify our investments. Law allows for Texas cattle to be shipped by rail and immediately slaughtered. They aren’t seeing any spread of tick fever that way. So what if we were to set up our own slaughterhouse on the rail line, say in one of the eastern cities?”
The older men got caught up in the positives and negatives of such endeavors while Robert got lost in his own thoughts. He would be twenty-eight come April. It was time to settle down and establish his own ranch. His father had said it more than once. He needed to get serious about marrying and starting his own life. Pa had even commented that maybe Robert would like to buy his aunt Marty’s ranch. It wasn’t real big, but it did abut the land Will had already given him. Robert had even been checking in on Marty’s place in her absence.
It would be a good idea, he supposed. After all, Marty’s land already had a house and outbuildings. Robert’s land had nothing. He would have to start from scratch—build his own home, barns, pens. On the other hand, if he made a deal with his father for Marty’s place, he would immediately be in debt. Both situations had their drawbacks.
“You seem mighty deep in thought, son.” Robert looked up to find his father watching him. “You got something on your mind?”
Robert gave a chuckle and pushed back his empty plate, as if he’d been contemplating nothing more important than a game of cards. “Nothing worthy of our discussing. Guess now that my belly’s full I wouldn’t mind a nap.” The older men laughed.
“You’re startin’ to sound like us,” Tyler declared, “and you’re way too young for that.”
“I reckon so,” Pa threw in. “Besides you don’t even have a wife and children to wear you out like we do.”
Robert shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe that’s ’cause I’m smarter than you guys.” He grinned and tucked his thumbs in his belted waistband.
“Or just a coward,” Brandon Reid said in a good-natured manner. He returned Robert’s grin and then looked to Tyler. “That little gal of yours has scared him to death.”
“Jessica can do that to a man, for sure,” Tyler replied. “The good Lord knows she keeps me awake nights worryin’ about her.”
Robert feared the conversation was going to turn to him and Jessica. He was squirming in his seat when a very tall, broad-shouldered man approached their table with hat in hand. “Mr. Barnett?”
“William or Robert?” Pa questioned.
“William,” the man answered.
“That’s me,” Robert’s father said, getting to his feet.
“I’m Austin Todd, field cattle inspector.”
William Barnett extended his hand. “Glad to meet you. These are some of my associates—Tyler Atherton and Brandon Reid. And this is my son, Robert.”
Austin tipped his head. “Pleasure.”
“Mr. Todd.” Tyler stood. Brandon did likewise and Robert followed suit.
“Is there a problem?”
“Not at all,” Austin replied with a smile. “Mr. Nystrom over at the sale barn told me I could find you here. He described you right down to your boots. I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute. He said you might have some land for sale.”
Alice handed Marty two letters. “He’s written,” she said, pointing to the top letter.
Marty glanced down. “I’m almost afraid to see what he has to say.”
Uncertain if Marty wanted to be alone, Alice said nothing for a moment. Finally she started for the door to their room, but Marty called her back.
“Don’t go. This will no doubt affect you as well as me.” She drew a deep breath and opened the letter. A five-dollar bill with President James Garfield’s profile fell to the floor.
Alice bent to retrieve it and handed the money to Marty. “Jacob sent you money. Must mean he’s found work.”
Marty took the bill and scanned the letter. “He’s working for his frien
ds the Vandermarks, but they can’t keep him. There isn’t enough work to go around because lumber sales are in a slump. He plans to leave there at the end of the month and go to my sister and brother-in-law’s ranch.” She looked up from the letter. “He hopes they can hire him, and he wants us to join him there.”
Alice smiled. “We’ve talked about doing just that. But you don’t have to include me. Mr. Brentwood would probably let me stay here if I would work full time for room and board.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Marty said, looking at the money and then back to the letter. “He says he misses me and loves me more than life. He plans to send me more money in his next letter. If William will hire him, he’s going to ask them to advance enough money so that we can buy train tickets.”
Alice could see that Marty was anything but comforted by the news. She wished she could still Marty’s fears, but she had nothing in the way of words that might assuage her friend’s concerns.
“At least you’ve had word,” she said, taking the chair beside Marty. “And he loves you despite how you parted. You both miss each other so much, Marty. It seems reasonable that you would join him.”
“I . . . I know.”
“But you’re afraid,” Alice said, knowing the truth. “For the baby.”
“Yes.” Marty raised her gaze to Alice. “I’m terrified. I don’t want to miscarry.”
“I wish I could promise that you wouldn’t, but of course I can’t,” Alice admitted. “I do know what fear is like, though. I live with it every day. Mr. Smith seems to delight in frightening me. But that’s fear for myself and not for an unborn child.”
“My fear is for myself, too,” Marty said, shaking her head. “I just don’t know if I can handle this, Alice. I don’t know if I can go back to Texas. I know that I miss Jake. I know that I want us to be together. I even want to see my sister and Will again.”
“But you don’t want to see Texas.”
Moment in Time, A (Lone Star Brides Book #2) Page 6