A Wrangler for Wynonna
Kansas Cowboys Book One
by Amelia C. Adams
With thanks to my beta readers—Amy, Bonnie, Cheryl, Dorothy, Joseph, Karilyn, Mary, Renee G., Renee L., Rita, Shelby, and Suzy.
Cover design by Virginia McKevitt
Would you like to join my readers’ group on Facebook? Click here!
Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter One
The Lazy Q Ranch
Just north of Topeka, Kansas
1877
Old Sully Crenshaw had been at the Lazy Q Ranch longer than anyone else had—he might have been there before the place had even been built or God had formed the dirt underneath it. That was the story circulating about him, at any rate, and Jack Milton was inclined to believe it. He’d known Sully since he came to the ranch himself five years before, and he’d trust any word that came out of the man’s mouth, no matter how far-fetched it seemed. It was impossible not to believe Old Sully.
That’s why Jack’s ears perked up one night when they were all sitting around in the bunkhouse, listening to the rain pound on the roof, and Sully looked up from his whittling to dispense some of his sage advice.
“Boys, I’ve been givin’ this thing some thought, and I know what we need around here,” he said.
“Better umbrellas?” Wes asked, and all the men laughed.
Big Mike, the foreman, had his own cabin apart from the bunkhouse, but he tended to spend his evenings with the rest of them for the company. “What’s your idea, Sully?” he asked.
“Well, I’ve been thinkin’. Notice how much happier Wade got when he married Miss Margaret? And then notice how much better off young Mr. Barker was when he married Miss Ruth? Women just have a way of improvin’ things, and we need some things improved, don’t we?”
Mike leaned against one of the bunks and folded his arms. “We’ve been workin’ hard to get things fixed up, Sully. I don’t know what else we could realistically do.”
Sully shook his head. “I’m not talkin’ about repairs, Mike. I’m talkin’ about females. You men need to find yourselves some wives.”
Jack glanced around to see if the other men were as surprised as he was. Thirteen men worked on the Lazy Q, every one of them single because that just seemed the simplest way to go about it. It would complicate things to be worried about a wife at home while they were out on cattle drives or other things they did to keep the place going.
Mike frowned. “Wives? Sully, have you been reading those romance novels again?”
Sully reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a battered-looking paperback. “You bet I have, and you men should take my lead. This here’s good readin’. What’s more is that I’m learnin’ about life, things I wouldn’ta known about otherwise. Things about courtin’ and whatnot.”
Jack chuckled. “Courtin’? Sully, most of us don’t even remember what women look like.”
Sully nodded. “That’s my point exactly! We’re out here all day and all night, just us men with a bunch of cows and horses and a few dogs, and we’re missin’ out on the finer details of life. Just look at how nice Wade has it with Miss Margaret—she keeps things pretty and good-smellin’, and she’s always puttin’ flowers everywhere. We’re just a bunch of grungy old mountain men who wouldn’t know a carnation from a camellia.”
“You might start by giving us a hint,” Irish said, and everyone laughed.
“They’re flowers. Nice flowers.” Sully shook his head. “You’re just provin’ my words more every minute. Think about it—if we had some wives out here, we’d be happier, wouldn’t we? A wife gives a man a little somethin’ extra to be proud of, a reason to hold his head high. Sure, we can go out there and bring in the herd and mend fences, but at the end of the day, what have we done for ourselves? The Lazy Q isn’t ours—we’re not investin’ in anything but a paycheck. What about the things that last?”
“You’ve sure been thinking about this,” Mike said. “What are we supposed to do about it, though? Topeka’s miles away, and even if we found women there to court, we couldn’t spare all that time off from work. Wade’s countin’ on us to keep things up and goin’, and we promised him we’d make this transition to him as the new owner as painless as possible.”
“True, and I won’t go back on my word. Wade’s our friend, and he always will be even though he’s our boss now.” Sully reached into his pocket again and pulled out a scrap of newspaper. “Here,” he said, passing it over to Jack. “Light’s too low for proper readin’.”
Jack took the page and tilted it toward the fire so he could make out the words. “‘Geraldine Green, matchmaker, seeks husbands of good moral standing for suitable young ladies,’” he read aloud, then looked up at Sully. “You think we should send away for mail-order brides?”
“Oh, no,” Gallagher said, holding up both hands. “I’m not gettin’ involved in a scheme like that.”
“Well, no one says you have to,” Sully shot back. “I imagine that once a few of you take the plunge, the rest of you’ll be more willin’, but I’m sure not forcin’ anyone to do anythin’ against their will.”
Jack continued to read. “‘Young ladies from proper homes seek husbands to bring them west and create new lives together. Prospective grooms will write to Miss Green . . .’” He looked up again. “There’s just an address. It doesn’t say much else. What kind of brides are we talkin’ about? And how much does this cost, anyway?”
“That’s just the thing,” Abel said from the back of the room. “These sorts of enterprises are always expensive, and who’s to say what you’ll get in return? They could all be snaggle-toothed, ornery biddies who couldn’t get husbands any other way, so they’re advertising in the newspaper where we can’t see ’em.”
“I’m a mite snaggle-toothed myself, but I’d be a fine catch,” Sully retorted. “A lady would be blessed to get me for her husband, and who’s to say but these girls aren’t just as qualified?”
“Then you marry them,” Benedict piped up.
“I would, but the ad kept talkin’ about young women. I wouldn’t want to frighten them off with my advanced years and all.” Sully looked around the room. “Listen, men. I’ve never been married—never been in love even, but I think it’s got its good points, and you’re all young enough that you could take advantage of this offer and bring some extra joy into your lives. Thing is, I’ve often thought about all the things I’ve missed, and bein’ married and havin’ children is at the top of the list. Don’t have the same regrets—do something about it now while you’re still mostly good-lookin’.”
Jack nodded slowly as he thought about it. He might have been too busy to consider getting married until now, but he could see the wisdom in what Sully was saying, and if they sent for brides rather than having to court them, they wouldn’t have to take much time away from the ranch. “I’m in,” he said, then looked around the room. “That is, if anyone else is too. I wouldn’t want her traveling out here by herself.” That was a pitiful excuse, but it was the best he could do. Truth was, he didn’t want to be the only one getting hitched to a total stranger. It would be easier if several of them were doing it too.
“Me too, but for a different reason,” Zeke said after clearing his throat. He was the quietest one in the bunch, and Jack was surprised he’d spoken up this early before wa
iting to see what everyone else said. “Miss Margaret’s been awful good to us, and I think she deserves to have some lady friends close by. Especially now.”
The men nodded. They didn’t really talk about things like that, but it was pretty obvious that Miss Margaret was in a family way, and it would be nice for her to have other women to rely on. Every one of them knew how to birth a cow, but dealing with expectant humans was another thing.
“Do any of those romance novels of yours tell you what we’re supposed to do with those wives once we’ve gotten them?” Mike asked. “And I’m not talkin’ about wooing—I mean the practicalities. Where to put them and stuff.”
“Well, I imagine we’d talk to Wade about that,” Sully replied, and Mike nodded.
“All right, I suppose I could give it a go. But I’ll be among the first to throw you in the water trough if this turns sour,” Mike said.
“And I’d have it coming to me. Anyone else?” Sully glanced around.
“I’ve never had any luck when it comes to proper courting. I might as well give it a try,” Tenny said, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. “Can’t be any worse than the pot of boiling water I had thrown on me when I went to pay Miss Ada Rose a call one night.”
“That might not have happened if you’d knocked on her door proper-like instead of tossing pebbles at her window,” Gallagher said, making the men laugh again.
“Might as well put me down too.” Billy stood up and stretched. “I’m going to bed, men. Mornin’s comin’ awful fast whether we want it to or not.”
“You’d best be in charge of this little project, Sully,” Tenny said. “Seein’ as how you’re the love expert and all.”
“I’d consider it my honor,” Sully said. “Let’s see now—Jack, Zeke, Mike, Tenny, and Billy. That makes five. You sure none of the rest of you are game?”
“We’ll just sit back and watch you all be miserable,” Drew said.
“You’re no fun.” Sully pulled himself up onto his bad leg. “All right, get to bed, everyone. I’m sure Mike’s got work lined up for us tomorrow.”
“All day, every day,” Mike agreed.
Jack tugged off his boots and climbed into his bedroll, wondering what he’d just agreed to. Sure, having a woman around was nice, but having one there all the time? Twenty-four hours a day? That seemed a bit suffocating, truth be told. But he trusted Sully, and if Sully thought this was for the best, well, he’d go along with it. He could think of worse things than having fancy flowers on the kitchen table.
***
Jack leaned on the fence and studied the cows Sully was planning to breed the following week. They were all healthy heifers with nice coloring, around seventy-five of them, and their calves would add nicely to the herd.
“I culled out a few and put ’em in the beef corral,” Sully said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Wade said Miss Margaret can’t stand the thought of things bein’ butchered right now, so we’re to do that in secret-like.”
Frisco, standing on the other side of Sully, shook his head, smiling. “I’ve never known a time when we had to be secretive about what we do out on the ranch.”
“We’ve never had an expectin’ woman out here either,” Jack replied. “Miss Margaret’s not squeamish by nature—it’s just right now, with her bein’ sick and all.”
“I support that,” Frisco said. “I might never understand it, but I support it.”
“You shoulda signed up for a bride,” Sully replied. “Then you’d understand it sure enough.”
“I’m all right not understanding it.” Frisco chuckled. “I still think you men are biting off more than you can chew.”
“You’ve got no real sense of adventure.” Sully clapped Frisco on the shoulder. “Just wait. You’ll be jealous when those young ladies show up and you don’t have one of your own.”
“Pretty sure I’ll be okay.” Frisco chuckled again. “I’m riding out—Tenny said some coyotes have been pestering the herd in the west pasture.”
“Good luck,” Sully said, watching as Frisco crossed the compound to the stables. Then he turned back to Jack. “You aren’t havin’ second thoughts, are you? Not as weak-kneed and lily-livered as that one?”
“Frisco better never hear you call him lily-livered.” Jack grinned. “Nope, I’m still in. Thought about it a lot during the night and almost changed my mind, but fact is, I do want a family, and this seems my best bet. Plenty of girls in town have caught my eye, but I don’t seem to be catchin’ theirs.”
“The only way I’d catch an eye is if someone threw one,” Sully said. “Here comes Wade—time to run this past him.”
Wade Watkins, the previous foreman of the Lazy Q and now the owner, stepped off the porch of his house and walked across the dusty patch of land separating him from the corrals. “Mornin’,” he called out. “That’s a good-lookin’ bunch of cows you picked out, Sully.”
“And the bulls are just as good,” Sully replied. “I think we’re gonna have a good crop of young ’uns next spring.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Wade looked like he was fixing to head off to his next task, but Sully held up a hand. Jack smirked, knowing what was coming and curious how this was going to go.
“Question for you, boss,” Sully said. “I was talkin’ to the men last night, and we were sayin’ how nice it is that you and Miss Margaret found each other. We wondered what you’d think if some of our men wanted to tie the knot too.”
Wade grinned. “That would be real nice, Sully. Just what we need around here.”
“That’s what I was thinking exactly. I said, ‘What we need around here are some wives.’”
Wade slapped Sully on the back. “Agreed. Keep me updated, and let me know when you’re ready to start with the cows.” He continued on his way, and Sully turned to Jack with a triumphant look on his face.
“See? I knew Wade wouldn’t have any objections. How could he, seein’ as how he’s a happily married man hisself?”
Jack nodded. “Well, there we go. I guess it’s official.”
“Yes, it most certainly is.” Sully stuck his thumbs under his suspenders and rocked back on his heels. “I have a feelin’ there’s gonna be more than just calving goin’ on here next spring.”
Jack smiled, feeling a mixture of excitement and hesitation. Sully had sure gotten them all riled up the night before, thinking about their futures and whatnot. He made it sound real good—like nothing could possibly go wrong with the plan. He trusted Sully—trusted him a lot—but if this did fall apart in some way, Big Mike wouldn’t be the only one fixin’ to throw Sully in the watering trough.
Chapter Two
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
“I beg your pardon?” Wynonna Westcott couldn’t keep the shock from her voice. “But we’ve been accepted to this nursing school. Every one of us.” She motioned to the group of young ladies behind her. “We’ve left behind jobs and families to come here. We’ve made sacrifices, and now you’re saying we aren’t welcome after all?”
“I’m saying there was a scheduling mix-up, and we accepted far too many applicants for this year’s courses,” the secretary said, her trembling lip making her look even more mousey. “We can sign you up for next year, but—”
“I would like to speak with the dean of admissions,” Wynonna said. “This is unacceptable.”
“But we don’t have room,” the secretary insisted. “There’s nothing he can do.”
“He can meet with us and let us explain how very unhappy we are about this situation.” Wynonna wasn’t about to let up. If she was forced to leave, where would she go? She had considered nursing school her very last option, and there would be nothing left for her except perhaps sewing shirts in a factory, and she absolutely detested sewing.
“I’ll see if he’s free,” the secretary said, turning and escaping into an inner office.
“I can’t believe this,” one of the other girls said, her voice low. “How could they have made such a ho
rrible mistake?”
“I think they should let us in anyway,” another added. “They could drag in a few extra desks, couldn’t they? We wouldn’t take up much room.”
The secretary returned, followed by a man with small round spectacles perched on his nose. “Ladies, I’m dreadfully sorry,” he greeted them, his tone conciliatory. “You’ve come such a long way, and you must be exhausted. Please allow me to put you up at a hotel for the night and buy you a hearty dinner—it’s the least I can do.”
“The least you can do is grant us the admission you promised us in your letter.” Wynonna held out the sheet of paper she’d been clutching for the last fifteen minutes, hoping she hadn’t crumpled it too badly in her anxiety. She needed to appear calm and in control, even though she was starting to panic.
He took the letter, glanced at it, and handed it back. “Yes, I did sign that letter, but again, it was all a mistake. We’re truly sorry, and we hope you’ll consider applying again next year.”
“Applying again?” One of the other girls stepped forward. “We already applied and we were accepted. If you’re forcing us to leave, you should guarantee our acceptance next year.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Then you’re never seeing me again.” She picked up her skirts and strode out of the building.
Wynonna was very close to following her, but it didn’t feel as though they’d gotten all the information they were due. “Just exactly how was this mistake made, sir?” she asked. “Did you miscount the number of chairs in the room? We were just discussing how simple it is to rearrange furniture.”
“Miss . . . Um, what was your name?”
“Westcott,” she replied. She knew he hadn’t really looked at her letter—there was her proof.
“Miss Westcott, I’m not at liberty to discuss how our admissions process works.”
“Or how it doesn’t work.” She pulled in a breath. “Mr. . . . Um, what was your name?”
“Hansen,” he said, looking uncomfortable.
A Wrangler for Wynonna Page 1