by Cheri Chaise
But the sparkle in his eyes faded to a dullness I felt keenly like an ache beneath my ribs. I fought against the tears that threatened to erupt and pasted on my most serene countenance. At least I hoped I succeeded. Far too many years had passed since I’d had to practice in front of an audience.
My feet rested firmly on the ground floor, and I dropped the arm I’d so desperately clung to in order to curtsy like that long ago debutante at her coming out.
“Mr. Carston, I presume?”
Cole’s voice ground out like carriage wheels over gravel roads. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Davies.” His head swiveled to my companion. “Mr. Davies.”
Mr. Stubbs tutted. “Though I would be honored by familial attachments to this charming young lady, sadly I cannot claim such a title.” He extended his hand to clutch Cole’s. “J. Patterson Stubbs, at your service, sir.”
“Cole Carston.” Concern wrinkled the firm brow. “You aren’t her traveling companion then?”
“Only since that rather unfortunate incident upon our departure from St. Louis.” A twinkle out of the corner of his eye said he would take the disgrace of my stomach upset to the grave. “After that, I felt it my duty to see this young lady safely to her destination.”
The dusty hat crumpled in Cole’s hands, and the green eyes darkened into a fierce storm. “I’m much obliged to you for getting her here in one piece, Mr. Stubbs.”
With one look up and down my frame, Cole’s displeasure deepened – and reminded me of my father’s distrustful and disappointed glares. It didn’t take much to imagine the fantastical ideas that floated about his mind after Mr. Stubbs’s reference to the incident. I almost revealed the scope of the innocent yet embarrassing display right before Mr. Stubbs spoke up again.
“We were about to have a bit of a late breakfast, Mr. Carston. Would you care to join us?”
“Well I…I’ve got to see to some business yet…over at the corrals.” Cole practically stumbled over himself to get away from me. “My brothers are waiting, you see.”
Shock at my intended’s so obvious display of disgust left me speechless. Mr. Stubbs intervened on my behalf.
“Perhaps the midday meal then?”
“Yeah…that’ll work better.”
Mr. Stubbs tipped his hat in a gentlemanly gesture as Cole whisked away from the building. Away from my presence.
“Your intended, I presume?”
I could but nod.
“Rather odd behavior upon meeting a fine woman,” he mused aloud. “Though not uncommon for a young man approaching the matrimonial altar for the first time.”
If it really were his first approach, then yes, Cole’s reticence upon this meeting might be understandable. But with an untenable rein on my fragile emotions, I didn’t have the ability to correct Mr. Stubbs’s erroneous assumption.
An elbow again extended my way, I automatically rested my hand in the crook and allowed him to lead me to the dining room while in a fogged daze. I’d always known I wasn’t much to look at. That my finery did little to mask the flaws in my face and figure, though the obvious weight lost on the trip had to have improved it somewhat.
Even so, I’d never had a man so eager to abandon me upon sight. This wasn’t how I’d ever imagined our first meeting.
It was these damned hips. My breasts. No matter how tight my mother had forced the maids to squeeze me into my corset over the years, all it ever seemed to do was emphasize those fleshy mounds instead of flatten them. The smaller my waist shrunk – to the point I at times could hardly breathe – the more my worst accoutrements were accentuated.
Or maybe it was my eyes. The weight loss must have made them appear larger and hollowed out like an empty skull. I’m sure the last months of stress and strain had dulled them somewhat as well, even though I’d slept soundly last night. Whatever the fault, Cole wasn’t pleased with my carefully constructed appearance this morning.
Sudden fear leapt into my throat and threatened to steal away whatever sanity remained. Would Cole go through with this marriage, or would he rescind the offered suit? Was this arduous journey all for naught? After so long a trip, would he turn around, shove me onto yet another steamboat, and send me packing?
I couldn’t bear the thought of returning to face the sneers of those back home and add further to the disappointments of my father where I was concerned. There had to be some way to make this work – because going home was not an option.
The dining room had mostly cleared at this hour, with merely a few late stragglers like us lingering over coffee. All male. All eyes landed on me – and lingered. Warmth rose to my cheeks, and I looked away to take the seat Mr. Stubbs offered at an empty table. However, the appreciation in the stares served to boost my floundering morale.
Mrs. Martin’s appearance as she bustled through from the kitchen helped as well. Thus far, she was the only other female I’d noticed at the fort. The hardest working too.
She greeted me with a genuine smile. “Aye, but you look like a new woman this morning, Miss Davies.” She scurried about, setting coffee before us and pouring it out into two cups with cream and sugar as she’d done the evening previous. “A bath and a good night’s sleep done you well, I see.”
“That it did, Mrs. Martin,” I agreed, finally finding my voice again after a robust sip. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“And you’ll both be needing some breakfast too.”
Mr. Stubbs took the lead. “That would be splendid, madam.”
“I’ve got bacon and eggs up today with as many biscuits and prairie-churned butter as you can stomach.”
We heartily agreed, and it wasn’t long before plates settled before us with enough biscuits piled high to feed a small army. They were so light and fluffy, it was almost like eating the clouds right out of the sky.
The groan slid from my lips. Her biscuits reminded me very much of Mrs. Barker’s. Of the lessons she’d given me before I’d left. Of a home I very much missed in that moment – and family I would never see again.
If I could help it.
Damn Cole Carston. If he didn’t want me, perhaps there was a job here I’d be suited for. By all appearances, Mrs. Martin could certainly use some assistance. She might also enjoy the presence of another female in this male-dominated territory.
I’d learned much from Mrs. Barker in the kitchen before I’d left home, though I’d perfected few of her recipes. With a little more hard work under the guidance of Mrs. Martin’s very capable hands, I was sure I had the means to make someone around here a good wife – and from the estimation of outright stares of the male persuasion around here, there were plenty at the fort alone who’d willingly vie for my attentions.
I thrust my shoulders back and lifted my chin. If Cole Carston didn’t return for my hand, I’d show him I wasn’t a woman so easily scorned.
Chapter Twelve
Cole
“You did what?”
I’d acted like an ass. Knew I’d acted like an ass in front of Estella and Mr.…whatever his name was. Blame it on shock over those eyes – and the fact that if I hadn’t excused myself when I did, my hard-on would’ve burst from my trousers right in front of everyone in the main house. It was like I hadn’t found any relief last night at all.
But I was still taken back by Evan’s reaction when I met up with he and Drew at the pens to finalize transfer of the livestock we’d brought. Of my brothers, he’d shown the least interest in bringing a new woman into the family. Openly scoffed at the idea when I’d proposed a mail-order bride in the first place.
Then when I’d told them I’d asked for Estella’s hand? Yeah, Evan had disappeared into the bluffs and hills for the winter trapping season with that announcement. Ever since he’d returned, he spent almost every waking moment in the tanning shed or out looking after various herds from sunup to sundown – all by himself.
I’d let him be. Left him to sulk by himself over the coming – and needed – changes to the household. As the oldest
Carston, it was my job to make sure we had another generation to pass the ranch to someday. Grieving had to end at some point. If Evan couldn’t let go of Sky, then it was up to the rest of us to move on.
Which was why Evan’s reaction to the news of my first meeting with Estella shocked me. “Shit, she’s gonna up and leave now.”
“I admit, I panicked.”
“Why?” Drew hiked his leg over to straddle the split rail fence.
I ran a hand through my shorn locks, missing the lost length. “Well…she was…”
“Fat?”
“Ugly?”
“Homely?”
“Frumpy?”
Evan and Drew peppered me with attributes that in no way described my bride-to-be. A new panic seized me. Would she still want me after the way I’d reacted? She wouldn’t hop back on the next steamboat and go home now – would she?
My head whipped around toward the docks so fast, my hat went all catawampus. No silks. No lace. No glistening dark hair or porcelain skin. Damn. I wouldn’t be able to pick up her from sight or scent from this distance, not that I’d gotten close enough to her in the house to know what she smelled like. No doubt it was…
“Intoxicating.”
My brothers shut their yaps the moment the word spilled like sweet perfume from my mouth – and I couldn’t wait to claim hers with my own. If she’d still have me.
The muscles in Evan’s jaw clenched. “If she’s so intoxicating, why the hell are you standing here? Haul her ass to that church over there, stand before the preacher and say the words. Then get a room and fuck her senseless.”
I gawped. Then I ground my teeth while my brother continued.
“I know you can Cole. Seen you do it. Heard you loud and clear in the next room last night, so I know you still got it in you to fuck a woman real good.”
I shook my head and leaned again the fence. “You’ve spent far too much time alone with your trapping lines, brother.”
“So you keep telling me.” Evan tugged off his hat and dusted it off against his leg as he stared out over the lowing herds. “What’re you gonna do, brother? Remember…what you do here affects all of us.”
“Yeah,” Drew interjected. “And Bret’d say the same thing.”
I patted my youngest brother’s knee. He knew just what I needed to hear, ‘cause Bret was always the one I talked to about important decisions. Damn, I could use a shot of that man’s wisdom right about now – and a double shot of his calm and steady demeanor.
Thinking of Bret got me wondering about how things were going with the foaling. It’d be nice to see more than one new addition to the family when we got back.
A spirited whinny pierced the air. It snagged the attention of the cattle and spooked the sheep, who backed away from the noise toward the far side of the fence. The gleaming stallion across the way caught my eye as it trumpeted and pawed at the ground before arching its forelegs high toward the sky.
Raven black, like Estella’s hair. Bret’s too. If I could just get past those eyes.
A well-dressed, dark-haired stranger directed his men to control the beast while he spoke with an accent to another agitated gentleman who ended their negotiations with a spat at his feet before stamping away. The stranger eyed the departing man before hiking his foot onto a fence rail then tugging a cloth from his waistcoat to wipe the toe of his black boot.
A loose plan began to take shape in my mind. “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna get fancied up, meet Estella at noon, and salvage what I can of this proposal.” I pushed away from the fence and tugged firmly on my hat to right it. “But first, I’ve got to meet a man about a horse.”
By all appearances, this was someone unaccustomed to the word no. I could use that to my advantage. Plus if word got back to Bret, as it surely would with Drew on the scene, I’d have a lot to answer for if I didn’t at least try to bring home such an incredible new stud for his operation.
“He’s quite the horse,” I called out as I approached the pen.
“That he is,” the gentleman returned with a scowl at his horse. “Though after making such an arduous journey, I find this animal to be more trouble than he’s worth.”
I leaned across the split rail and held a hand toward the black’s quivering muzzle. He pulled back with a snort but then returned for a sniff when my hand stayed in place. A grin pulled at my lips when his warm muzzle nudged my palm as if searching for a treat.
I scratched the dark forehead with my knuckles then handed over the bit of carrot hiding in my fingers. “He’s just frustrated from being cooped up too long. We of the male species need to be free to roam.”
“Yes…don’t we now?” He eyed me before extending a gloved hand. “Farrok Jahan, at your service.”
“Cole Carston,” I said, shaking the offered hand. “Not from around here, I take it.”
“Cairo, London, New York…I’m a bit of a world traveler, you see.”
I propped a foot against the stall and got another nudge that almost knocked my hat off. I reached back to pat the nearby muzzle. “Never been too far from the Montana Territory myself.”
He waved his hand in the air as if seeing so much of the world was of little significance. “I had the misfortune of having a Persian mother and an English father.”
That explained the variance between his speech and appearance. We had all manner of people coming through these days as they headed farther west. Most, however, were seeking to better their fortunes. This man already had one.
“Some would consider your situation fortunate.”
“Yes…some would.”
I didn’t have to imagine the difficulties behind those words. I’d seen firsthand with the way Bret had been treated all these years. Sometimes even by people who knew him well.
“So what brings you out our way, sir?” I asked.
“I’m the new proprietor of the Bucking Filly,” he returned with a hiked brow as if gauging my reaction.
More like the Broken Filly, if the current selection of girls at the brothel was any indication. “Is that so?”
“She became mine in a late-night game of chance while in St. Louis. I thought I’d come up while the steamboats were running this way and see what I’ve saddled myself with this time.”
“Have you had a chance to get over to see her?”
Mr. Jahan shook his head. “I was rather fatigued when we arrived late last night. Once I take care of this business, I plan to avail myself of her…assets.”
I might be sticking my nose where it didn’t belong, but he’d find out the state of his assets soon enough. “As one businessman to another, you might consider bringing in some new assets before long.”
Dark eyes narrowed and the hint of a leering grin tipped the corners of his mouth. “You seem to know a bit about more than just horseflesh, Mr. Carston.”
I swept a hand around the area. “If you hadn’t noticed, females aren’t exactly prevalent around here.”
His gaze followed what I’d indicated, taking in the pens and corrals, the bustling docks, and the encampment along the trail up to the fort.
Until his eyes stopped on a scrap of blue silk in the distance that fluttered by the fort’s open gates. “Yes, so I’ve seen.”
My hand stilled on the black muzzle. The horse must’ve sensed the change in my demeanor as he jerked away from my touch. His snort woke me from the red haze that ran hot through me as this stranger eyed my bride.
Time to get this transaction – and conversation – back on track. “But when it comes to horseflesh, my brother is the one with the real knowledge, Mr. Jahan. He breeds and raises them. Matter-of-fact, you’ll probably see a fair number of his work during your time here.”
“Is that so?”
“Which is why I’d be happy to take this beast off your hands.” I stood up to my full height. “For a fair price.”
A bit of haggling later made me the proud owner of a new stallion, who appeared more than ready to plant his
pole in one of our mares. Bret was gonna be one happy man soon as he saw what I was bringing home.
In more ways than one.
Chapter Thirteen
Estella
The discomforting start to the day worsened in ways I’d have never fathomed and had me reconsidering a return journey by the time the sun reached its apex.
After breakfast, Mr. Stubbs escorted me to my room, where I spent the better part of the morning at the table staring out the window overlooking the fort grounds and writing at length to my sister and Mrs. Barker.
In my usual flowing script, I informed them of my safe arrival at Fort Union and the untamed beauty of the Dakota and Montana landscapes on either side of the Missouri River. I wrote of the stifling rail trip that, considering the following steamboat excursion, had taken a backseat to the desperate circumstances during the never-ending paddling up the swollen river.
I even told Mrs. Barker about the majestic stallion that had made his displeasure over the long trip known the moment he arose from the boat’s hold, though I avoided mention of the details to Abby, since her husband might see and cut off our correspondence.
But it was the myriad people that had crossed my path thus far that would intrigue the old housekeeper the most. My letter to her spoke of Mr. Stubbs’s many kindnesses along the way, even as I left out nothing concerning the unfortunate incident that brought about our introduction. I could almost hear her boisterous and good-hearted laughter at my expense.
Though I shared with both the initial meeting with my intended, it was to Mrs. Barker where my pen spilled the most ink in describing my concerns over his reaction to my appearance. Only she would appreciate and understand those long held admonitions of Mother’s that still swarmed in my mind.
However, I felt it prudent not to disclose the lewd and disconcerting stares my presence garnered along the way, and how I’d taken to locking myself in my room most days. And I certainly didn’t write of the stranger in my room.
Which reminded me that I needed to return Mr. Stubbs’s derringer before his return trip downstream – but after I delivered my letters.