A Rancher of Convenience

by Regina Scott

  “I won’t rile him if he doesn’t rile me,” Hank was saying to his sister as they stood by the door. “Best offer I can make. I suggest you take it.”

  Missy laughed. “It’s going to be an interesting dinner.” She turned to go, then pressed a hand to her back and groaned.

  Nancy glanced up with a frown, but Hank stepped toward his sister. “Are you all right?”

  Missy shook her head as she lowered her hand, then looked to him with a rueful smile. “I’m getting too old to be pregnant. My skin feels tighter than a rattler’s who’s ready to shed.”

  “You might try olive oil,” Nancy suggested. “My mother relied on it.”

  “Nancy’s mother was a midwife,” Hank explained.

  Missy’s eyes widened. “Oh, sister, where were you on the last five pregnancies? We have a lot to talk about.”

  Nancy smiled. “I’m happy to help in any way.”

  “What do you advise eating?” Missy asked eagerly. “I’ve craved odd foods before. Ernesto was sure Clovis would be born with a fiery temper I ate so many chili peppers while I carried him. But now peppers and cucumbers and the like don’t sit well. And don’t tell Pa, but beef makes me green.”

  Hank was examining the doorframe as if trying not to listen.

  “Try fruits,” Nancy suggested. “Apples, plums, bananas if you can get them. They should be easier on your constitution and good for the baby.”

  Missy nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll think of other questions.” She lowered her voice. “Only don’t talk about babies in front of Judith. It’s a sore point in the family that all she ever managed was her Tommy.”

  Nancy couldn’t help thinking of Molly Thorn and how happy she’d been to learn she was going to have a baby. Tommy seemed an honest young man willing to help. A shame the rest of the family didn’t realize that could be blessing enough.

  Missy rubbed her hands together as she straightened. “Oh, this is going to be fun. See you at dinner.” She swayed back down the hallway.

  “Fun, she says.” Hank shook his head as he closed the door behind his sister. “I’m sorry, Nancy. I knew you and my sisters would get along. But Pa reacted the way I feared he might.”

  “I reacted worse,” Nancy said, running her fingers along the pattern of the quilt. “I didn’t mean to upset him, Hank, or to push myself forward, but I just couldn’t bear to hear him talk to you that way.”

  “You’d better get used to it,” Hank said, moving farther into the room. “I have a feeling there’s more to come.” He went to his bag, which someone had placed on a chest at the foot of the bed. “Mother will expect us in our finest for dinner. I’m just going to change my coat, but I’ll leave you to dress.”

  Nancy glanced up at him. “Won’t your family find it odd you have to leave the room to change? Did you tell your mother about our agreement?”

  Hank shook his head. “As far as my family knows, we’re a happily married couple. But I doubt Mother will find our arrangement all that odd. Even after four babies of her own, she doesn’t consider it proper for her and Pa to share a room.”

  Nancy had known a few women in Missouri who had felt the same way. They were the ones who had insisted she couldn’t be the local midwife. Certainly Lucas had kept his own room at the Windy Diamond, but she no longer considered him any sort of example of what a husband should be.

  “Your mother is different than I expected,” Nancy said, sitting on the bed. “You said your father had high expectations. It seems your mother does too.”

  Hank pulled out the coat he’d worn to their wedding. “Sometimes, I think she raised her expectations to counter his. I told you that she and Pa met in Dallas. Pa had big dreams, and her family had the money to back them.”

  “So, they married for convenience, as well,” Nancy mused.

  “They might not have been in love to start,” Hank allowed, “but I think Pa came to respect her. He may boss around the hands, us kids and pretty much anyone in Waco who would let him, but all of us always knew Mother was the power behind the throne. Still, when Pa sets his mind to something, even she has to step aside. Like my sister said, this could be an interesting dinner.”

  * * *

  Hank did his best to appear calm as he escorted Nancy to the dining room just before six. They had taken turns in the room changing into their Sunday best, him in the brown coat he’d worn to their wedding and her in the green dress the ladies had sewn for her, the one that made her eyes look as bright as a field of clover. Her color was high, her steps firm, as they entered.

  The dining room at the Double H was built for company. The heavy oak table with its scroll-backed wooden chairs could easily seat thirty. Judith and Missy were already in the long room with their husbands, stationed near the door as if ready to intercept Hank and Nancy. Tommy had been allowed to join the group for dinner, but Missy’s boys were absent, likely dining in the kitchen under the watchful eye of the staff. If his father intended to be difficult, Hank was just as glad most of his nephews would be spared.

  “And who is this fair flower brightening our gathering?” Ernesto Rodrigues said. Missy’s husband took Nancy’s hand and bowed over it. The vaquero had joined the Double H as a horse wrangler when Hank was fifteen. The wavy jet-black hair and intense nearly black eyes had not changed since the day Ernesto had charmed Hank’s sister. Lean and wiry, he exuded confidence.

  Hank introduced him to Nancy, who smiled at his attentions while Missy gazed fondly at her flamboyant husband.

  Voices behind them signaled the arrival of his middle sister. Like their mother and Judith, Almira moved with stately dignity in her silk skirts as blue as a robin’s egg. The most thoughtful of his sisters, she paused to regard him and Nancy before greeting him. She and Missy were the only ones to inherit Pa’s blond hair, though hers was clean and shiny and carefully braided behind her head.

  “Henry,” she said, smile hovering as Judith, Red, Missy and Ernesto went to take their seats. “It’s good to see you again. And this must be your Nancy.” She held out her long-fingered hand. “Please call me Mira. And welcome to Waco. I know you’ll love it here.”

  She made it sound as if he and Nancy had come to stay. “This is only a visit,” Hank assured her as her husband and two daughters joined them.

  Like his nephews, his nieces had grown. The oldest wore her blond hair up and blue skirts down. The youngest still wore the wider skirts of youth, and her hair was a curly chestnut like her father’s. After curtseying to Hank and Nancy, they hurried around the couples to join their cousin Tommy on the other side of the table.

  “Whether you stay or not may depend on your father,” John Fulton, Mira’s husband informed him. A slender man, shorter than any of the Snowdens, he had nonetheless impressed the family with his sharp intellect and warm wit. Pa had been persuaded that it might come in handy having a lawyer in the family, so Mira had been allowed to marry him, and the two lived in Waco and came out to the ranch on business and for family occasions.

  “Is Mr. Snowden truly that ill?” Nancy asked.

  John winked at her. “No, ma’am. He’s truly that stubborn.”

  Mira tsked. “Now, John, don’t scare her before she’s even had a chance to meet him. He may not feel well enough to join us for dinner.”

  “We met him this afternoon,” Hank explained. “He’s already told us how he feels about this visit. And he’s planning to be here tonight.”

  Mira raised her delicate brows. “Oh, this could be interesting. Come along, John.”

  With a supportive smile to Hank, John followed her into the room.

  “I have a feeling your family and I use the term interesting differently,” Nancy murmured to Hank.

  He linked arms with her. “Sorry you came?”

  “No.” As always, her smile warmed him. “I like meet
ing your family, seeing where you came from. You’re fortunate to have had siblings. When my mother died, it was just me.”

  “It was just me when I left here,” Hank reminded her. “It actually felt good, for a while. Then I met a lady who changed my mind.”

  Ah, there were those peaches. A shame he couldn’t lean in and kiss them. Now, wouldn’t that shock his oh-so-proper mother?

  Of course, the feelings that rose when he looked at Nancy surprised him enough.

  “What are you two doing over there?” Missy demanded, saving him from having to explain to Nancy why his own cheeks were blazing. “You know you can’t escape that easily. Ernesto and I have been trying for years.”

  Ernesto laughed, but Judith offered her a prim look.

  “Now, Missy,” she started with a tone so much like their mother’s that Hank could only exchange glances with Nancy and smile.

  Perhaps that was the biggest difference in this dinner, he realized as he escorted Nancy to the table. By the time he’d been allowed to sit on these scroll-backed chairs, Judith and Mira had already moved on to homes of their own, and Missy had followed shortly thereafter. He’d never had anyone to stand up for him with his father.

  Until Nancy.

  She couldn’t know how rare it was for anyone to put Henry Snowden in his place. Hank hadn’t been sure whether to cheer her or hide her from the coming wrath. It must be a sign of his father’s illness that he’d taken her scold so well.

  Now Hank just had to protect Nancy through this dinner.

  He chose spots farther down from his sisters and their families, pulled out the chair for her, scooted it in just a little so she could sit without the edge of the table discomforting her or baby Ben. When she smiled her thanks up at him, he had to wonder whether he might pop the buttons right off his waistcoat he was so proud to be her husband. He still couldn’t believe how forgiving she’d been of his confession.

  If only he could find similar forgiveness in his heart for his father.

  He had just taken his seat beside Nancy when his mother led in the cook and his helper. Hank didn’t recognize either, but that was no surprise. Except for the maid who helped the ladies of the house dress, his mother had never been able to keep staff for long. His father claimed she always chose men and women with ambition, who wanted to advance themselves beyond playing servant. Hank thought it had more to do with an unwillingness to meet his mother’s demands for perfection.

  Now the savory scents of garlic and onions lingered in the air as the men set the dishes on the table. There was a platter of roast beef surrounded by vegetables, a bowl of fluffy mashed potatoes and a boat of rich gravy, plus fresh-baked bread and apricot preserves. With a nod, his mother dismissed the staff, then took her seat to the right of the head chair. Everyone seemed to be staring at the empty spot.

  From down the hallway came a series of thumps, and his father moved into the room, leaning heavily on a brass-headed oak cane. As when he’d first seen his father that afternoon, Hank could not help noticing the changes. His father’s back was hunched as if he were in pain, and his breath came in shallow gulps. Still, he walked to the head of the table and stood for a moment, gazing out at his gathered family. Hank didn’t think it was his imagination that his father’s look rested longest on him.

  “Nice to see everyone here,” his father commented before lowering himself onto the chair. “Rufus, say the blessing.”

  “An honor.” Red bowed his head with clasped hands, and everyone else followed his lead.

  “Dear Lord,” he said, deep voice resonating against the hard wood, “we thank You for the friends and family You’ve brought together today. May this food bless our bodies and our conversation bless Your ears. Amen.”

  Amens echoed around the table, and Hank’s mother began passing the dishes.

  While Hank served Nancy and filled his plate, he couldn’t help glancing down the table at his father. The man took little and ate less, even with his wife’s encouragement. Hank recognized the dishes; they were some of his father’s favorites. Was it the illness or Hank’s presence that was keeping his father from enjoying them?

  “You tamed that bronc yet, boy?” his father asked Tom, who was seated near him on the left.

  Tom hurriedly swallowed his mouthful of potatoes. “Almost, sir. I’d be farther along if you were there to help me, I know.”

  His father had been a genius with breaking cow ponies. Now he shook his head. “Time you did it on your own. And what about you, Lizzie? That a new dress?”

  Mira’s oldest preened. “Mama had it made for me in Waco.”

  “Humph.” His father’s hand came down on the table. “You’d better learn how to use the needle yourself. Can’t always count on having money to pay a seamstress.”

  “Yes, Grandfather,” she said, lowering her gaze. The shoulders of the blue dress sagged.

  “Both of my girls know how to sew,” Mira informed her father. “They made that lap quilt for you last Christmas, if you recall.”

  “I recall,” their father said, glint in his gray eyes. “And I recall it came apart in the first washing.”

  Mira glowered at him.

  “I expect you’re having to do a great deal of sewing for the baby, Nancy,” his mother put in smoothly. “This being your first and all.”

  “It has kept me busy,” Nancy acknowledged with a smile. “I’m sure you’ve had to go through that.”

  All the ladies smiled and nodded.

  Mira perked up. “Of course we have. And I know we all have diapers and nightgowns folded away. We should give them to Hank and Nancy.”

  Judith’s face tightened, and Missy went so far as to shake a finger at her sister. “Speak for yourself! I still need those diapers.”

  “I have quite a store put by,” Nancy assured them. “But thank you for the thought.”

  “And what about you, Junior?” his father asked, and Hank had to fight to keep from cringing at the hated nickname. “Are you ready to be a father now? You didn’t think much of marriage before you left.”

  And there came the next shot fired. He wasn’t the only one to notice. His mother and Mira were gazing across the table at nothing. Judith’s face saddened, and Missy’s gaze darted between him and their father as if she was eager to see the flames erupt. His brothers-in-law and Tommy offered commiserating looks, but he thought they were just as glad the sharp questions were directed at him now.

  Yet the only look around the table that mattered to him was Nancy’s, and she was smiling encouragement.

  “Guess it just took me a while to find the right bride,” he said, returning her smile.

  “True love,” Missy said, squeezing her hands together with a sigh. “It’s so romantic.”

  “You didn’t think so when you and Ernesto were living in that hovel,” her father reminded her.

  Missy dropped her hands, pouting, but her husband took her fingers and pressed a kiss against them. “I would never subject my wife to a hovel, though she would make it a castle by her very presence.” As Missy melted, he turned to Hank’s father. “I returned to the Double H at your request, Señor Snowden, not because of need.”

  “Same story I heard from Hank,” his father complained, but his usual gruff voice sounded more petulant than commanding. “You all think you can go on without me.”

  His sisters squirmed.

  “Isn’t that what we want for our children?” Nancy’s soft voice spoke into the silence. “That they will learn and grow and go on to greater things?”

  Ernesto lifted his glass to her. “Well said, senora.”

  “Hear, hear,” Red agreed, raising his glass, as well.

  Most of the others murmured their ascent, took a sip in toast. But Hank watched his father and mother, neither of whom had touched their glasses.
r />   It was going to be a long few days.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “That went better than I expected,” Nancy said as they returned to the bedroom later that night. She and Hank had spent the evening with his family around the dinner table, trading stories and catching up on each other’s lives. His father had been, for the most part, quiet, though she’d noticed he’d turned more gray as the evening wore on, as if he was staying upright through sheer force of will.

  “That went better than I’d ever dreamed,” Hank replied as they reached the door. He paused to smile down at her. “Having you beside me made all the difference, Nancy. Thank you.”

  Why was it even the littlest praise from him warmed her whole heart? She returned his smile, watched as he leaned closer, then shut her eyes, waiting for his kiss.

  Instead, she heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor. Opening her eyes, she saw Hank’s sisters sweeping toward them with the energy of a Texas twister.

  “We’re having a hen party,” Missy announced as they drew abreast of Hank and Nancy. She flapped her fingers at Hank. “Go on, now. Find a rooster or two to visit while we get to know your bride better.”

  “Red and Tommy are out by the main corral,” Judith offered. “I’m sure they’d love your company, Henry.”

  Hank glanced Nancy’s way as if doubting she wanted his sisters’ company as much. She nodded to him. “It’s all right. I’d like to talk to your sisters.”

  He held her gaze a moment longer as if he couldn’t quite believe her.

  Missy tugged on his sleeve. “Move along, cowboy. We’ll send word when it’s safe to come back.”

  With a commiserating look to Nancy, he went.