Ryder (Prairie Grooms, Book Two)

by Kit Morgan

  She smiled as he wrapped an arm around her waist to make sure she stayed put, then took the reins. “I’ll make it just as pretty as Penelope’s house!” she said with excitement.

  Ryder gulped. “Well, my place ain’t exactly like August’s farm, ya know. I’m no farmer.”

  “Oh, I know that,” she said. “You want to breed horses.”

  “Yes, ma’am, that I do.” He turned his horse as Sadie approached them with a basket.

  “I’ll come out as soon as I can with your things,” she told Constance and handed her the basket. “Here’s a little something for tonight. I hope you enjoy it.”

  “Now ain’t that nice?” Ryder commented. “You didn’t have to go through all that trouble, Mrs. Cooke.”

  “Wasn’t no trouble at all!” shouted Grandma Waller from the church steps. “You have a nice supper, ya hear? And take care of that little lady, Ryder!”

  Preacher Jo and his wife Annie joined Grandma on the steps. “Pleasure marrying you!” Preacher Jo called after them as Ryder turned his horse again and kicked him into a trot. “The pleasure was all mine!” he called over his shoulder and tightened his grip on Constance. “We’ll come into town in a few weeks!”

  The small wedding party waved at them as they trotted away. “Why do I get the feeling they’ll be back in town a lot sooner?” asked Belle.

  “On account that boy ain’t got supplies for two days let alone two weeks,” said Wilfred. “His cockeyed way of doing things may have been fine when he was a bachelor, but now that he’s got a wife, he’s gonna have to shape up.”

  “He’s not the only one. She can’t cook, Wilfred,” Sadie stated. “And she hardly knows how to clean or do laundry.”

  Wilfred let go a whistle. “High time she learned then. And she’s gonna have to if’n she’s with the likes of Ryder Jones.”

  “Mr. Dunnigan?” Eloise asked. “Is Ryder’s brother Seth as … as … wild?”

  “No. Seth Jones is what you English would call civilized. Them two boys are like night and day.”

  “Oh, thank Heavens,” Eloise mumbled.

  “But don’t get me wrong, those boys are fiercely protective and can hold their own in a fight. Seth may be more cleaned up working in Mr. Van Cleet’s fancy hotel, but he was once just as wild as Ryder, living in the outdoors, hunting, catching things with his bare hands …”

  “What?” Penelope gasped. “What are you talking about?”

  Wilfred grinned. “Why, don’t you know?”

  “Know what?” asked Eloise.

  Wilfred chuckled. “Seth and Ryder Jones were raised by Indians.”

  Penelope and Eloise stared after Ryder’s horse as it disappeared around the livery stable and out of sight. “Oh dear Heavens!” Penelope exclaimed.

  “However will Constance survive?” Eloise added, a hand to her chest.

  “Same as you once you’re married,” stated Wilfred. “One day at a time.”

  Two

  Not a half-hour’s ride from the church, Constance got a cramp in her hip. “Ouch!”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” asked Ryder, his voice laced with concern.

  “I don’t know. My hip is suddenly hurting me.”

  “Oh, you just ain’t used to bein’ in a saddle this way. This ain’t no fancy side-saddle like what you’re used to.”

  Constance had swung one leg over the saddle horn and would be the first to admit it wasn’t at all what she was used to. For one, a side-saddle was much more comfortable. The hard saddle horn of Ryder’s rig was not made for a woman’s leg.

  “I don’t know why you just didn’t sit the way I had ya, I won’t let ya fall, I promise.”

  “I wanted to ride the way I’m used to, but this isn’t working at all,” she lamented.

  “Why don’t you sit the way you were?”

  Constance fidgeted about, and tried to get her leg up and over the horn. “Ohhh, I don’t think I can.”

  “Stiffened up already, are ya?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Ryder shook his head and chuckled. “Here, let me help.” He stopped his horse, got his arms under her, and lifted her up and against him. The horse shifted its weight and Constance was quick to throw her arms around his neck to keep her balance as he set her once again in the saddle. No simple task what with a picnic basket on her arm. “Oh! I’m sorry, I thought I was going to fall.”

  Ryder breathed in the scent of her hair and looked into her eyes, his arms still holding her. “Don’t bother me one bit,” he said, his voice low. “Not one bit at all.”

  She looked at him, and gave him a shy smile. “Is it much further?”

  “About another hour and a half. You’d best hold on, because we’re gonna have to pick up the pace.”

  “You mean go faster? Riding like this?” she asked in shock. “How ever am I going to hold on?”

  “You just keep your arms around my neck, and I’ll keep a hold of your waist. Them rain clouds up there are comin’ in fast, and you don’t want to be caught out in a rain storm in that pretty weddin’ dress of yours, do ya?”

  She glanced at the sky. Sure there were clouds, but they didn’t look to be threatening. “Are you sure we can’t just walk the horse the rest of the way?”

  “Oh I’m sure,” he said and pointed in the opposite direction she’d been looking.

  Constance glanced to where he pointed and gasped. Dark clouds hovered over the tree line and far into the distance. “Oh dear …”

  “Yep,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and nudging his horse into a walk. “You ready?”

  “Ready?” she repeated. “You mean to go faster?”

  He smiled. “Yep, that’s exactly what I mean.” Not waiting for her to answer, Ryder spurred his horse into a cantor, and let his new bride grip his neck for a moment until she understood he wasn’t going to let her fall. As soon as he felt her body relax a notch, he kicked his horse into a fast gallop.

  She screamed in surprise, her arms tightening around him, before she let out a loud “whoop!” Encouraged, Ryder spurred his horse to go faster.

  Constance started to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Ryder yelled over the wind.

  “I don’t know!” she shouted back, her eyes bright, mouth in an open smile.

  Ryder leaned forward. Naturally, his horse went faster still. Constance screamed in delight and held on tighter. Her reaction made him positively giddy. But now was not the time to laugh with unrestrained glee, he had to keep his horse under control and make sure he didn’t run the poor animal into the ground.

  “Whoa,” he called after he sensed his horse was beginning to tire. “Whoa there.”

  Constance glanced around as he brought his horse to a slow cantor, and then down to a walk. “That was incredible! I’ve never been on a running horse before!”

  Ryder smiled. “Never? You mean to tell me you’ve never let a horse stretch his legs out underneath ya?” She shook her head no and laughed again. “Well stick with me, sugar, and you’ll learn all kinds of things.”

  She giggled at that, and hugged his neck. Her arms felt good on him, as did the arm he kept around her. Perhaps what he’d done was a foolhardy thing, but it was fun, and more importantly, his new bride liked it.

  He let his horse Banjo go along at a fast walk. Eventually the animal would slow the pace on his own, but right now, he was as excited as Constance, tugging on the reins and biting the bit. Ryder would have to spend more time with him, but lately, he’d been concentrating on his other horse, the one that would no doubt make him famous. In Clear Creek any way. He wasn’t sure if folks from Oregon City would travel such a long distance to breed their mares to his stallion. But Othello was an incredible horse and already getting attention from the farms around Clear Creek and other out-lying areas.

  “How much farther?” Constance asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

  “About an hour. We’ll let Banjo walk awhile before I push him again
. He’s carrying two of us ya know.”

  “I am aware. How many horses do you have?”

  “We have two.”

  “Two? Is that all? Is one for me?”

  “No, Banjo is my saddle horse, and Othello is my stud horse. I can ride him, but he ain’t for no strolls in the park.”

  “Why not? What if we want to ride somewhere together?”

  “Then we’ll do just what we’re doin’ now.”

  “That seems rather impractical, don’t you think?”

  “Not at all. I don’t go to town much now that I’ve got my place. Only need is for supplies.”

  She blanched at that. “You mean … I can’t go to the ladies sewing circle once a week, or visit Penelope on her farm, or see Eloise?”

  “What do ya wanna see them for? Ya got me.”

  She stiffened, and he could feel the air about them sour with her sudden change in mood. “I don’t think that’s fair, they’re my family.”

  “Well, I ain’t got no wagon, and I only got the one saddle horse. Can ya ride Banjo here by yourself?”

  “I’m sure I could, I know how to ride.”

  “Astride?”

  “You want me to ride astride? Do you want me to wear pants too?” she asked in shock.

  “Now be reasonable, sugar, I ain’t got no side-saddle like Jefferson Cooke, and I ain’t got the money to get one. You’ll have to ride Banjo like a man.”

  “Oh dear, what will my sisters think?”

  “What will they think when they find out you’ve been tearin’ across the prairie like a jack rabbit?”

  “A what?”

  “A jack rabbit.” He took in her confused expression. “You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of, or seen a jack rabbit?”

  She smiled and shook her head no.

  “Well I’ll be, ain’t that somethin’? Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me teachin’ you about prairie life.”

  “I know I still have a lot to learn, but I promise to be a good student. I always got high marks in all my lessons, and my governess said I would have no problem learning whatever subject was taught me.”

  “Governess, huh? You sure did grow up fancy.”

  “Not really. My father was nothing more than a baronet.”

  “What in tarnation is a baronet?”

  “Well, it’s a man who has the title of Sir, but isn’t a knight, or rather, is ranked just above a knight, and, well … well what it amounts to is my father was called Sir Leonard.”

  “Sounds fancy.”

  “To some it is, we were still part of the gentry, my father owned a lot of land, but not nearly as much as Duncan Cooke, the new Duke of Stantham.”

  “I never did understand all those titles you English have. People are people as far as I’m concerned.”

  She smiled and said nothing. Did she think him silly for thinking the way he did? Sure he understood rank, he grew up respecting the leaders of … oh no, how am I gonna explain where I come from? He thought to himself. He looked at his pretty little wife as she gazed out at the prairie. She was an English lady come out west to marry, and he was lucky to have her as his bride. But what would she think of him when she found out he was raised a savage? At least in her eyes, how else would she think of it?

  Ryder pressed his lips into a firm line, as if doing so would keep him from telling her. He knew it wasn’t a matter of if she found out, but when. “What do ya think is in the basket?” he asked to distract himself.

  “I have no idea, I haven’t looked as I’ve been too busy hanging on to you.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I suppose we could guess and find out who’s right when we get home. Why don’t you guess first?”

  She giggled. “All right, let me see. There’s sure to be a pie, and maybe some chicken.”

  “Good guess, I suppose I’ll add to that some boiled eggs and cookies.”

  “What if I’m right, what do I win?” she asked in a teasing tone.

  He looked into her eyes. “A kiss.”

  She blushed, and it sent a chill up his spine. Good Lord but she was beautiful! And he was married to her! Ryder could hardly believe it. He looked away as a thought hit him. Did he deserve such a woman after what he’d done with his life? He hadn’t been a model citizen all these years. In fact, he hadn’t settled down into the life of a white man until just a few years ago when he and Seth went to work on Mr. Van Cleet’s hotel. They’d come out west to escape their pasts, and no sooner got to Oregon City when they got hired. Both of them had trouble adjusting at first, especially Ryder. Seth seemed born to the ways of the whites, and looked forward to living a more civilized life. But not Ryder, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he didn’t fit in. So, he set himself as far out of town as was sensible and began to build his ranch. Most of the work was slow and tedious, as he had only himself do it. But he liked knowing he was building his ranch with his own two hands and knew in his heart that one day, it would be as successful as the Triple C. But he’d be raising horses, not cattle.

  “What if you win, and you guessed right?” she asked.

  Ryder almost jerked at the sudden blurt, but held perfectly still. She’d startled him and he realized he’d better stop thinking so much and pay closer attention to the trail, not to mention his new wife. “I dunno, what am I gonna win?”

  She smiled. “It will be a surprise.”

  “Oh, I like surprises. I sure do hope it’s a kiss.” She blushed again, and he grinned from ear to ear. He had to admit he was much more interested in the holder of the basket, rather than what was in it.

  They rode in silence for a time, even after he urged Banjo into a gentle canter. The rain clouds were still hovering over the tree line and more than likely over his place. He’d have to figure something out when they got there if the sky opened up. His roof wasn’t finished, and the place leaked something awful. A leaky roof was okay for him as he used a few buckets to catch the rain water, and then curled up on his cot to sleep. But Constance was another matter, and he hoped she didn’t mind the sound of rain dripping (or in this case, possibly pouring) into metal buckets when it came time to go to bed. Of course, sleep would be the last thing on his mind, and he suddenly realized he might have a much bigger problem than a leaky roof.

  It was his wedding night, and he didn’t even have a decent bed!

  Dread filled him as he glanced to Constance. He fought against a groan and wanted to kick himself for not giving more thought to being better prepared. At least he had a kitchen table and two chairs, but that was the only furniture other than his cot and an old trunk he used to store what few clothes he had.

  Ryder blew out a breath and looked at his new bride in her pretty white dress. Thank Heaven’s Sadie and Harrison would be out soon to bring the rest of her things. He was sure she owned more clothing than he did, and once again almost groaned at the thought. Where was she going to put them? He could share his trunk with her he supposed.

  “What is that?” she asked out of the blue.

  “What is what?”

  “Over there in the distance. Is that smoke?”

  Ryder brought Banjo to a stop. He shaded his eyes with one hand to get a better look and sure enough, saw a tiny plume of smoke rising up in the far distance. “Dagnabbit!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s our place!”

  “It is? Then, why is there smoke?”

  “Cause someone’s started a fire in the stove.”

  “What? Who?”

  “I dunno, but we’re gonna find out. Hang on.”

  He spurred Banjo into a gallop, and realized it would be safer for Constance if he didn’t go running into his yard to meet unexpected company with her in the saddle. He spotted a small rise in the prairie and headed for it. Upon reaching his destination, he brought Banjo to a stop. “I want you to stay here while I go see who’s in the house.”

  “Why can’t I go with you?”

  “Cause it could be anybody, m
aybe an outlaw. Your cousins Colin and Harrison didn’t come to our weddin’ on account they was chasing after some cattle rustlers.”

  “They weren’t sure if they were rustlers and wouldn’t be sure until they failed in locating their cows.”

  “Be that as it may, sugar, ya ain’t goin’ with me. Now let me get ya off this horse.”

  He helped her slide to the ground, basket in hand, then slid himself into the saddle. “Wait right here, I won’t be long.” Without another word he kicked Banjo, raced over the small rise, and disappeared from sight. Fear took hold of him then, the kind a man dreads the most. What if for some reason he wasn’t able to protect his bride out here? It’s not like they could yell for help and have the neighbors come running. For one, there weren’t any neighbors, and two, even if one of them got hurt and the other went to fetch help, with the time it would take to get some and get back, would the other still be alive?

  “Ryder Jones, you idiot!” he hissed as he got closer to the cabin. “What were you thinkin’ gettin’ yourself married?”

  He reined in his horse and scanned the small barnyard. Othello was prancing about in his corral as Ryder’s chickens, all three of them, pecked the ground near the gate. Everything was as he left it that morning, except he hadn’t left a fire in the stove.

  Ryder dismounted and drew his gun. He then approached the cabin with caution, his feet feeling as though they hardly touched the ground. When he reached the door, he did what came naturally. He kicked it in and gun raised, jumped into the one room structure.

  “Howdy, Ryder! About time you got home!”

  Ryder let go the breath he was holding and holstered his gun. “Cutty! What in tarnation are you doin’ here?”

  Three

  “Don’t be gettin’ yourself all riled up, I come to visit, that’s all.”

  “I see you let yourself in,” Ryder commented dryly as he noted Cutty’s booted feet propped up on the kitchen table.

  “Yep, got your fire going too. Figured you’d want the place warmed up seein’ as how it’s gonna start raining any ol time now.”