A Rancher’s Surrender

by Michelle Beattie

  “Bidding on baskets?”

  “Every year the unmarried women make up picnic baskets and the bachelors bid on them. With the amount of prospectors and miners in these mountains, the bachelors outnumber the available women. Add in the ranchers and farmers looking for wives, and those baskets go for a hefty price. Of course, all the money raised goes to the church.” Letty looked puzzled. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about that. Eileen said she’d tell you.”

  Eileen coughed, tugged on the strings of her bonnet. “I was going to. I’m sorry, Jillian. I plumb forgot to tell you that you should bring a basket.”

  “You forgot? You said you were going to ride over and—”

  “Good afternoon, Eileen, Letty. And who might you be?”

  Caught up in Letty’s explanation of the auction, Jillian hadn’t noticed the man approach. He was very tall. His black hair was generally sprinkled with grey. Creases fanned from the corner of his eyes when he smiled and Jillian saw nothing in their sky-blue depths but gentleness. The white band at his throat immediately set her at ease.

  “Reverend Donnelly, this is Jillian Matthews.”

  “And so we meet at last. How are you finding Marietta so far?”

  Since she wasn’t about to tell the minister that most of the folks she’d met so far were close-minded and rude, and since she couldn’t lie to him either, she simply said, “It’s a lovely town.”

  “A good way to meet people, Miss Matthews, is Sunday service which is at ten every Sunday,” he added with a knowing wink. “Ah, terribly sorry, ladies, but I’m being called over. Enjoy your day.”

  He strolled off, and Jillian couldn’t help smiling after him.

  “He’s not very subtle, but he’s a great preacher. You’ll like him. Well, I’m thirsty. Let’s get some sweet tea and sit down.”

  Several conversations hushed as they walked past. Despite that, Jillian made a point of looking at folks and nodding her head in greeting. Not all the women were unfriendly but Jillian noticed the only ones who smiled back were those whose husbands weren’t standing next to them.

  At a distance from where the children raced about, where they could converse without screaming at each other or being overheard by the busybodies, Jillian, Letty, and Eileen sat and enjoyed their drinks.

  Jillian took a sip of the tea, which was liberally laced with sugar, and watched the children run about. Wagons pulled up steadily. Children jumped over the edge before their fathers had set the brake. With a wave of their hands, ignoring their mothers’ warnings that they remain clean and out of trouble, they blended into the growing cluster of rambunctious bodies.

  “Oh, to have that much energy again.” Letty sighed wistfully.

  Eileen smiled at her, placed her half empty glass down on the grass. “And what would you do if you had it?”

  “Well, I suppose that would depend if John had as much.” The grin Letty shot them equaled that of a naughty child.

  Eileen shook her head, obviously used to her friend’s openness. “Tell me, Jillian, have you been called on since the ranch?”

  Jillian sighed. “Not yet. I did ride around to a few farms, tried to introduce myself. For the most part I was practically run off.”

  Their disappointment was clear in their frowns, but it was only half of what Jillian felt. She’d come across the country to be a vet. It wasn’t a matter of lack of work. Doc Fletcher had said in his advertisement that there was a great need. And having ridden around, she knew she was surrounded by farmers and ranchers. No, need wasn’t the problem. Her being a woman was.

  “It just burns my goat!” Letty said, finishing her glass of tea in one swallow. “If you were a man, they’d be lining up at your door.”

  “I know,” Jillian agreed.

  Her gaze drifted over the crowd. As expected, several women were staring at her as they participated in closed-circle discussions. Most looked away the moment Jillian saw them.

  Past them, where the men were gathered, Jillian saw Steven with a handful of men, most she recognized as merchants in town. The one, the trapper, had her shuddering as she remembered his bloody hands.

  Unlike the women who looked away when Jillian caught them staring, Steven was far bolder. His unblinking stare held Jillian’s, until, feeling disconcerted, she broke contact.

  “Grandma!” Annabelle ran over, eyes bright as the sky. She flopped onto the ground next to Eileen.

  Eileen’s smile was soft and full of love as she took her granddaughter’s hand. “What’s got you so excited?”

  “I was hiding behind that tree,” Annabelle pointed to the tall willow Steven and his friends were gathered underneath, “and I overheard Mr. Garvey. He’s blaming Pa for us having a woman vet and wants to have a meeting right away. Tomorrow morning.” Blue eyes latched onto Jillian’s. “He really hates you,” Annabelle added with a whisper, “and he wants you out of town.”

  Letty muttered a curse. Jillian felt an upsurge of indignation. Just who did Steven think he was?

  “You’re sure?” Eileen asked.

  “Positive.” Annabelle’s head bobbed with confirmation. “And he said to make sure everyone kept it quiet so Pa wouldn’t know about it until after.”

  “Can Steven do this?” Jillian asked.

  “Sure can. He’s the mayor.”

  “He may be the mayor,” Letty said. “But the rest of us have a say.”

  “Thanks, Button,” Eileen said to her granddaughter. “You go play now. But,” she added and grabbed Annabelle’s hand before the girl could run away, “don’t tell Jacob you heard, all right? He’ll just tell his pa.”

  “I won’t. Bye!”

  And as though she hadn’t just delivered news that had shaken Jillian’s world, she scampered away to resume her game.

  “That sneaky devil.” Eileen seethed. “Trying to have a meeting without telling us. He’ll be blaming Wade for—” She caught herself, bit her lip.

  “It’s all right, Eileen. Wade didn’t know he was hiring a woman. It’s not his fault.”

  “Well, be that as it may, you’re here and you know what you’re doing. Seems to me that’s all that should matter,” Letty stated.

  It took all Jillian’s willpower not to march right over to Steven and give him a piece of her mind. Of all the self-righteous, pompous—

  She inhaled deeply, reined in her temper. It wasn’t only Steven she had no worry about; it was the town. One thing was certain, she needed to stand her ground, needed to fight for what she’d come for. If she didn’t, then it would only be a matter of weeks before her money ran out.

  And then what would she do? Clint’s smirking face came to mind, but Jillian shoved it aside. She wasn’t giving up; Clint wasn’t going to win.

  “What are you going to do?” Letty asked.

  Jillian’s hands clenched and unclenched in her lap, her thoughts ran faster than a wildfire. Her eyes, she knew, burned with determination.

  “I’m going to the town meeting.” She decided. “Steven may want me out, and he might not be alone in that, but I’m prepared to fight.”

  “It’s not that we don’t love having you here, dear, and not that we aren’t prepared to fight right alongside you, but it must be reassuring to know you can always go back east.”

  Jillian thought of her bedridden mother, who’d been happy to stay in bed and bemoan her many ailments for the last several years. She’d worked as hard at discouraging Jillian to be a doctor as her father had encouraging her. Francis Matthews wanted both her daughters close by her side, where she could fuss over them and they could tend to her every need.

  If Jillian’s father hadn’t put in his will that he was giving Jillian money to pursue her goal of being a doctor, Jillian was sure her mother never would have given her a cent to follow what she’d always called a ridiculous notion for a woman to undertake.

  As for her sister… Jillian shook her head. They hadn’t been close since they were children. Once Jillian had set her mind on being a ve
terinarian, she’d been busy with studies and working alongside her father. When she had free time, she’d taken her turn at her mother’s bedside. The few occasions Jillian and Katie had had to sit down and talk they’d had little to say to each other and after a few such attempts, they’d each stopped trying.

  While she loved her sister, their strained relationship wasn’t enough to get her back to Philadelphia.

  “No, Eileen,” Jillian answered honestly. “There’s no going back.”

  *

  Why did she always do this to herself? Silver wondered as she walked into the churchyard.

  The women were already clustered around tables or on the grass, heads together in conversation, their circles closed. A group of men leaned on the hitching post, smoke from their cheroots pluming over their heads. Low rumbling from their discussions stopped when she walked by. She didn’t belong here. She felt it to the depths of her soul. She was Silver, the saloon owner. Silver, the woman who would never be more than a whore in their eyes. Even though she’d never bedded any of them. Even though most had tried.

  Her heart hammered in rhythm with her steps. Her hands were damp where they clutched her basket. Doubt trailed alongside her like a lost puppy that didn’t know where else to go. Despite it all, she kept her eyes forward, walked straight for the table that held the other baskets. She felt like a fool. But, by God, she wouldn’t let it show.

  “Miss Adams.”

  “Reverend. How lovely to see you.”

  And it was. Because he was one of few who never judged her. She’d asked him why, once. Why he didn’t shun her as the others did. His sad smile had undone her nearly as much as his words.

  “Silver,” he’d said, “I’ll not judge you or anyone else. That’s God’s task, not mine. There are enough folks doing that; I don’t need to be among them.”

  “Is that chicken I smell?”

  How he could smell it over the aroma of the pig being roasted was a miracle in itself. But then, if Silver were to believe in miracles, she’d believe this man capable of them.

  “It is.” She offered him a grateful smile. “You don’t have to bid on it, Reverend.”

  “And let such fine food go to waste?”

  He’d bought her basket every year she’d brought one, which was ironic, as the only reason she bothered coming in the first place was because of him. Other than Letty, Shane, and the folks at the Triple P, nobody else paid her the time of day. Well, the miners and prospectors had fallen over themselves when they’d first come to town but when she’d refused their advances, tossed more than one out of her saloon for grabbing where they had no business grabbing, they’d shunned her like the others.

  But Reverend Donnelly was always nice to her. To have his support for herself if not her saloon—he never stepped foot inside—was a godsend. Coming here, putting up with the stares and the rebuffs was a small price to pay to return that kindness.

  “I met Miss Matthews today. She seems very nice.”

  A smile curved Silver’s lips. “She is. I asked her to come into the saloon for some tea.”

  He arched a brow. “Did you now?”

  “The saloon wasn’t open, Reverend. It was only the two of us.”

  “I’m glad she didn’t refuse the opportunity to get to know you. That speaks well of her character, doesn’t it? Ah, and here comes another with great character. Good day, Sheriff.”

  Silver’s stomach leapt to her chest. She’d known Shane since she’d come to town. He came into the saloon often enough that she should be over this darn reaction to him. And yet every time she laid eyes on his sculpted face, his secretive grey eyes, it was like the first all over again.

  “Good day, Reverend.” He tipped his hat. “Silver.”

  “Shane.”

  “I hope you have your money handy, lad. This lady’s basket will fetch a fine price.”

  A flush the likes of which she’d never felt enveloped Silver. Shane had never bid on her baskets, ever. It was a sore spot with her because she always secretly made them with him in mind. A truth she’d take to the grave.

  “Well, then”—he looked at Silver, his face unreadable—“I may just have to do something about that.”

  It took an iron will and her toes curled tightly in her shoes, but Silver kept her smile from blooming like an overrun patch of dandelions.

  “Hello, Shane.”

  At the sound of the woman’s melodic voice, Silver’s joy sank and her toes uncurled. Silver knew Melissa Lake. The woman had been a thorn in Silver’s side since she’d first laid eyes on her. Her father was the cobbler in town, though with the amount of cookies and sweets she delivered to Shane’s office, a person would think her family ran a bakery. More than once Silver had bumped into her on the street holding a plate of treats and every time Melissa made a point of telling her whatever she was carrying was Shane’s favorite.

  Tall and willowy, she was Silver’s physical opposite. With hair as dark as Shane’s, she looked striking standing by his side. She turned her eyes toward Silver.

  “Oh, hello, Silver. Saloon closed today?”

  Silver bristled. “As it is every Sunday.” She set down her basket.

  “Goodbye, Shane. I’ll see you next time you’re in.”

  He opened his mouth, but in the end shut it without a word.

  The reverend announced the bidding would start in five minutes. Silver had only enough time to race over to Jillian, Letty, and Eileen for a quick hello. When she heard about the town meeting, she vowed she’d be there as well.

  She took her place next to the others who had brought baskets and gritted her teeth when Melissa took her place beside her.

  “I just know Shane will want mine.” Melissa purred.

  After four baskets had been sold without Shane bidding on any of them, Silver dared hope, dared actually think that this year Shane would come through. She could easily picture them under the lazily drooping branches, laughing and talking about everything, anything. Then he’d look at her, a darkening in his eyes she’d always hoped to see, and he’d lower his mouth—a mouth she’d coveted for too long—to hers.

  “And now,” the reverend said, “we have a basket donated by Miss Silver Adams.”

  It was mortifying to stand there. Mortifying to know everyone was staring at her. She heard the whispers, those hushed words that weren’t meant for her ears. There was nowhere to look that would make standing under their scrutiny and gossip any easier. But she wouldn’t look down, wouldn’t look at her feet as though she was ashamed. And she wouldn’t look at Shane, even though she knew exactly where he was standing.

  Picking a branch on a tree, she imagined sitting underneath it with Shane as silence stretched over the gathering. Why couldn’t she have simply donated some money to the church rather than subjecting herself to this scrutiny and misery? Why did she do this to herself, year after year? Because she was foolish enough to hope that, one day, Shane would bid on it.

  “I’ll bid two dollars,” the reverend said. “Do we have any other bids?”

  Silver’s stomach sank. The prick of tears hit her eyes.

  As a bid, it wasn’t the most generous since some of the others had fetched upwards of four dollars, but Silver wasn’t concerned about how much her basket sold for. It was whom it sold to that mattered.

  The silence was interminable. The wind slipped its warm fingers over her face, but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Instead it only reminded her of how alone she was. An unhappy baby began to wail. From the hitching post a horse whinnied. Nobody else countered the reverend’s bid.

  “Then it looks like I’m the lucky winner.”

  Silver drew deep within her heart for a smile. The reverend had been kind, and he deserved to see her smile. Turning, she grabbed her basket from the reverend and took it to a shady spot by the church. He’d join her once the rest of the baskets were sold. As she settled herself on the grass she heard Melissa’s basket being auctioned.

  And her heart ripped
open when she recognized the man bidding.

  *

  “He did what?” Wade asked around a mouthful of buttered potatoes.

  “He called a town meeting for tomorrow morning.”

  Since his ma had already given him “the eye” for talking with his mouth full, Wade waited until he swallowed before asking, “How come we didn’t hear about it before now?”

  “He said he didn’t want you to know,” Annabelle answered.

  Wade’s supper slid greasily in his stomach. It wasn’t a complete surprise that Steven would call a meeting. The man had been livid when the town had let Doc and Wade search for a vet. Steven had wanted to do it. As mayor, he thought it was his responsibility and had taken the town’s decision to let Wade and Doc do it as a slap in the face. So, no, the fact Steven called a town meeting wasn’t a shock. Neither was the fact Steven was deliberately trying to keep it from Wade. That didn’t mean it sat well with him, however.

  “I’m sure he’s just itching to rant about how I messed up.”

  Annabelle was all but bouncing in her seat, happy to be the one who knew things nobody else did. “He said it was you who got the town into this mess, but he’d be the one to fix it.”

  “By running her out?” Scott asked. “That’d be a darn shame. I think she’s a he—”

  Eileen cleared her throat, causing Scott to blush. “She’s a fine doctor,” he continued. “I don’t see how any man could do better.”

  “I agree,” James added. Then with a wink added, “Of course it don’t hurt any that she’s pretty to look at.”

  Wade cut into his beef with more force than necessary. James chuckled.

  “I think we should all go tomorrow.” His ma suggested.

  “Me, too!”

  “You have school.” Wade countered.

  “Awww. I never get to do to the fun stuff.” She whined.

  “You won’t miss any fun, Button, just a boring adult meeting.”