ROMANCE: Mail Order Bride: A Sheriff's Bride (A Clean Christian Inspirational Historical Western Romance) (New Adult Short Stories)

by Nathan Adams

  Rachel stared around the crowded ballroom and the scene before her faded away as a new possible future took shape before her. It was a bold decision, but Rachel understood that she would never achieve what she desired if she wasn’t willing to be bold. Adventure had never been for the faint-hearted.

  Chapter Two

  Rachel had never set eyes on a place like Montana before. It stretched on for miles and miles without end. The sky seemed bigger, the air seemed cleaner, and the colors seemed brighter.

  “Can I give you a ride somewhere ma’am?”

  Rachel turned in the direction of the drawling older gentleman that stood before her. He was wearing dirty grey trousers and suspenders that looked as though they had seen better days. He had a brilliant handlebar moustache that hid a kind smile.

  “No, no thank you,” Rachel said hurriedly. “I’m waiting for someone actually. His name is Cole Dalton.”

  “Why, you must be his new bride,” the man said as his eyes lit up with delight. “And as pretty as a picture you are.”

  Rachel inclined her head at the compliment but she couldn’t summon the usual delight. She was starting to feel the heat and her legs had begun to ache. “Do you know how far Mr Dalton’s ranch is?” she asked, wondering if she would be forced to make the journey there alone.

  “Too far for walking ma’am,” the man replied. “I can take you there in the evening.”

  Rachel was considering the offer when a horse and buggy pulled up a few feet away from where she stood. The horse’s hooves kicked up such a storm of sand that Rachel had to shield her eyes and take a step back. She was wiping the dirt from her eyes when a high pitched little voice called her name.

  “Are you the Parker woman? Rachel Parker?”

  Rachel felt herself bristle at the undignified manner in which she had been addressed, but she straightened herself up and looked towards the rider. Where she had expected a young man with a high voice, she was faced with a small boy in dirt-stained trousers and a straw hat. She composed herself quickly and masked her surprise, a trait that she was glad her mother had so effectively ingrained into her.

  “Yes,” Rachel nodded with dignity. “I am Rachel Parker.”

  “Hop on then,” the boy said abruptly. “We best be getting on.”

  Rachel moved towards the buggy and looked at it with panic rising in her breast. There was no way she could get into it with anything close to dignity. She maintained an air of unconcern, as she turned to the seated boy who was regarding her with a steely blue-eyed gaze.

  “You will need to help me with my things,” Rachel said.

  He rolled his eyes without bothering to mask the expression and jumped down from the carriage. His hat flew off mid jump and a tumble of dark brown hair spilled free. Rachel felt her breath catch as she realized that he was not a boy at all.

  “Dear Lord,” Rachel exclaimed. “You’re a little girl.”

  “There ain’t nothing little about me,” the child snapped at her, her blue eyes blazing as she stepped forward and grabbed Rachel’s bag. She threw it unceremoniously into the trap and looked at Rachel threateningly, as though daring her to make another observation.

  Rachel heard a chuckle behind her and the older gentleman who had spoken to her earlier stepped forward.

  “Don’t mind the chikkabiddy,” he said. “She may look wild, but she doesn’t bite.”

  “How would you know?” the girl asked, as she grabbed a hold of the horse’s reins and jumped back into her seat with catlike grace.

  He ignored the comment and offered a hand to Rachel to help her into the wagon. She accepted his help gratefully and managed to climb into the shaky cart and onto its sand strewn seat. “Thank you so much for your help sir,” Rachel said.

  “The name’s Isaiah Pickett ma’am,” he said with a tip of his hat. “It was a pleasure indeed.”

  Impatient with the exchange, the girl spurred the horse forward, kicking up another whirlwind of sand as they made their way through the main town. Rachel swallowed back her thirst, wishing that she could lean back into a cushioned backrest without fear of smudging her dress.

  “It was right stupid of you to wear white,” the girl said without bothering to turn her head.

  Rachel’s journey had been long and hard and her patience was at its end. She wasn’t sure why her new husband had thought it fit to hire a child to work on his ranch, but if it were to be so, she would have to take it upon herself to teach the child respect.

  “I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself,” she said curtly. “Now how much longer to the ranch?”

  “Awhile,” the girl replied.

  Rachel sighed but didn’t insist upon an elaboration. She was too tired to attempt discipline at that particular moment. The journey to the ranch took longer than she had anticipated, but when they finally turned a sharp bend in the road, Rachel saw miles and miles of green grass, enclosures, and cattle grazing in the furthest field.

  It was so picturesque that for just a moment, she forgot her fatigue and gave into admiration. The ranch house was smaller than she had expected, but it looked sturdy and full of character. Rachel managed to get off the wagon by herself and she was dusting off her skirts when she heard someone approach.

  The man coming towards her was tall, broad-shouldered, and lean. He had a long face that hollowed in at the cheeks and sharp blue eyes that pierced Rachel at first glance. He was younger than she had expected and more handsome than she had dared hope. The only thing that unsettled her was his lack of smile. He gazed at her with unblinking curiosity, making her blush under his scrutiny.

  Rachel was suddenly painfully aware of her own appearance and she felt the need to run her fingers through her hair or pinch her cheeks for color. She stayed her hand and thanked God for her golden hair and her ash-grey eyes. They were features that didn’t require grooming or highlighting to be considered beautiful.

  “Good evening ma’am,” he said, stopping short a few feet from where she stood.

  “You may call me Rachel,” she said. After all, he was to be her husband.

  “Rachel then,” he nodded. “I’m Cole.”

  “Yes, I know,” Rachel said with a smile.

  A large thud drew Rachel’s attention as her bag was thrown to the ground from the wagon. “Dear Lord, be careful with that,” she exclaimed to the girl. “Everything I own is in that bag.”

  The girl jumped out of the wagon and looked at her with those too-blue eyes. “You can take it in yourself then,” she said before running toward the stables at full speed. Rachel took a deep breath and turned to her new husband, hoping to hear him reprimand the child in some way. Instead, he was gazing after her with some expression that Rachel found difficult to decipher.

  “This is a big change for her,” Cole said quietly. “I’m sure you understand.”

  Rachel looked at him in confusion. “Understand what exactly?”

  “She’s used to it being just the two of us,” Cole went on as he continued to stare after the girl. “She’s finding it hard to adjust to my re-marrying.”

  Rachel turned her head and saw the child disappear into the stables. Slowly, realization dawned.

  “My wife died two years ago,” Cole went on as though he were talking to himself. “Jane was only seven.”

  The child was no ranch hand; she was Rachel’s new stepdaughter.

  Chapter Three

  Her room was small, tiny compared to the one she had been used to back at home, but Rachel welcomed the change. It reinforced the fact that she was no longer nestled in the bosom of a predictable life. Her mind flew fleetingly to her parents but she pushed away the memory of their parting and prayed that one day they would be able to forgive her.

  Rachel had one small window nestled in the very centre of her room, but it let in a stream of bright light that threw everything into high relief. She settled her bag beside the chest of drawers that stood next to her dressing table, and took a seat in front of the mirro
r. Her face looked pale and her grey eyes seemed lacklustre. A moment later, there was a knock on her door and Rachel rose from the chair.

  “Yes?” she called.

  The door opened and Jane walked in. She was dressed in the same dirty trousers and her hair was well and truly matted from wearing the hat. She skulked into the room and looked at Rachel’s possessions as though they had no right to be there.

  “You hungry?” she asked.

  “I am yes,” Rachel replied.

  Jane nodded and turned to leave.

  “Wait Jane,” Rachel said quickly. “Please don’t go just yet. I wanted to talk to you.”

  The child hesitated for a moment as though she were not sure whether or not to ignore the request.

  “Please Jane,” Rachel said gently.

  Slowly, Jane turned back around.

  “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how things started between us,” Rachel began tentatively. “I was tired and I thought –"

  “You thought I was a servant,” Jane interrupted.

  “No… I… well… you were dressed-” Rachel stuttered.

  “This is how I always dress,” Jane said defiantly.

  “May I ask why?”

  “You can’t work in a dress,” Jane replied, casting her eyes over Rachel’s skirts with contempt. “You’ll hardly get anything done in that fancy dress.”

  “This is my simplest dress,” Rachel said and she saw Jane’s eyes go round with disbelief. “Well,” she continued trying to infuse some sense of enthusiasm into her tone. “I know that I don’t exactly fit in here just yet, but you will just have to teach me.”

  “I got no time to teach you,” Jane said immediately.

  “Well I suppose you will have to teach me through example then,” Rachel said brightly.

  “What?” Jane looked at her in confusion.

  “It means that I will watch you work and copy what you do,” Rachel explained.

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” Jane said bluntly.

  “Come now,” Rachel said struggling to keep the smile on her face. “We must try and get along for your father’s sake. I’m sure in time we’ll be the best of friends.”

  Jane looked unimpressed by these words. “There’s food in the kitchen,” she said sourly before she turned on her heel and left.

  Rachel walked over to her window and peered outside. The ranch spread out before her, serene and rustic. She could see a few ranch hands in an enclosure with some horses, and in the middle of them all stood Cole. He approached a brilliant grey horse and stroked the animal gently. Then, in one graceful move, he mounted the horse without any assistance. There was no saddle or bridle, no rein or spurs, just the animal’s tan mane for support.

  He started off at a slow trot and before long he was cantering around the enclosure as his ranch hands scattered. Rachel watched the way he handled the horse. It appeared almost effortless. Then she saw a smaller figure running toward the enclosure and she recognized Jane immediately. The child jumped over the fence, landing nimbly on her feet, mounted a horse in much the same way her father had.

  It was a foreign world Rachel found herself in and the people in it were equally puzzling. There was a hardness in them borne out of hard work and difficult circumstances, and Rachel had never been more aware of her own closeted lifestyle, nestled in the heart of luxury and comfort. Panic rose in her gut as she wondered how she was going to survive here. Perhaps she had overestimated her own capabilities. Perhaps she had been so blinded by the monotony of her life that she had made a hasty decision.

  Rachel stared at father and daughter, galloping on their horses in the distance. She could not deny the connection she sensed between them. They were a family and she wondered momentarily if there was any room for her within it.

  Chapter Four

  Rachel walked into the kitchen the next morning to find Cole setting eggs on the table.

  “You made breakfast?” Rachel asked.

  “Paula used to do it,” Cole replied. “But I had to let her go. We didn’t have room for her here.”

  Rachel picked up on the fact that when he said ‘room’ he actually meant money. “I see,” she nodded. “Well I can take care of meals from now on.”

  Cole nodded.

  “Where is Jane?” she asked.

  “Tending to the horses,” Cole replied. “She’ll be in shortly.”

  Rachel sat down at the table and glanced at the eggs; they looked a little over done but they smelled good. Rachel ignored her growling stomach and turned to Cole. “When are we to be married?” she asked, imagining the look on her mother’s face in asking such a brazen question.

  “In a few days,” Cole replied. “When I can spare the time.”

  “Is it proper for me to stay here on the ranch with you before we’re married?” she asked.

  Cole sat down at the table, taking care to avoid her gaze. “I don’t give a damn one way or the other.”

  Taken back by his words, Rachel fell silent.

  “I’m sorry,” Cole said after a moment had passed. “I didn’t mean to offend. Sometimes I forget how to talk to a lady,” he admitted sheepishly.

  Rachel gave him a weak smile. “How many workers do you employ?”

  “We’re down to four,” Cole replied. “They trade off days but it’s manageable.”

  “Perhaps I can help?” Rachel suggested.

  “Well that’s the whole point of us marrying,” Cole said bluntly. “I need help managing this ranch.”

  Lucky for Rachel, she was spared the task of having to reply to that when Jane walked in. She wore boots that looked too big for her and the same hat she had worn the day before.

  “Good morning Jane,” Rachel said giving her a smile.

  Jane sat down at the table and grabbed the plate of eggs.

  “Jane,” Cole said sternly.

  “Good morning,” Jane said robotically, as though the words held no meaning.

  Cole seemed to be satisfied with that and he and Jane tucked into their breakfasts, leaving Rachel feeling as though she had no place at their table.

  “What are you going to do right after breakfast?” she asked tentatively, making an attempt at conversation.

  “We’ve got to harness the horses, we’ve got to plough and rake the fields, there’s laundry to be done and lunch to be made,” Cole said. “Then we get on with the rest of the day.”

  “I see,” Rachel nodded. “Will you teach me?”

  Cole and Jane shared a glance. “You’ll need some clothes,” Cole said quietly.

  “I don’t think what I have that will be suitable,” Rachel said.

  “I expected as much. I’ll lend you some of my late wife’s clothes,” Cole suggested.

  Rachel didn’t miss the expression that shot across Jane’s face. Her eyes became distant and cold and her face seemed to harden. She didn’t look like a nine-year-old girl in that moment; she looked like an old soul who had seen more of the world than she had wished to.

  “Perhaps it is best that I stay in the house today,” Rachel suggested. “And tend to the household chores.”

  “There will be plenty of time for that later,” Cole said. “I don’t have many ranch hands today and I’m gonna need all the help I can get. Jane – go put some things in Rachel’s room.”

  Jane shot her father a look that he ignored, but she got up and did as she was told. Rachel watched her leave wearily and turned her gaze back to Jane’s surly- faced father. He was a handsome man, but Rachel could see that there was no warmth in his features. They were made up of stone and circumstance.

  “Show me your hands,” Cole said suddenly, taking Rachel by surprise.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Show me your hands,” Cole repeated, slower this time as though Rachel were some sort of dimwit.

  Tentatively, Rachel stretched out her hands to him with her palms down.

  “The other side,” Cole said shaking his head.

  Rachel flipp
ed over her hands, marvelling at the indignity of the moment.

  “You haven’t worked a day in your life have you?” Cole asked looking her in the eye.

  His eyes were a burning blue and Rachel recognized the subtle fissures of judgement in them. “I lived a different life in New York,” Rachel said defensively. “The work I did there was different.”

  “The only thing that we consider work here is hard labour,” Cole said. “And if you’ve known hard work in your life, it shows in your hands.”

  Rachel swallowed back her pride. “I’m a fast learner.”

  “You better be,” Cole said. “Slow learners don’t survive in this territory.”

  Rachel felt herself bristle, but she kept her mouth shut. She had would have to learn and Cole was the only one around to teach her. “I shall go and change,” Rachel said preparing to excuse herself from the table.

  “Wash the dishes first,” Cole said before he rose and walked out the door without a backward glance.

  Rachel stood seething for a moment, but once her anger had abated slightly, she washed the dishes and went to her room. On her bed lay dark trousers, a grey shirt that looked like it had been white at some point in time, and work boots.

  Rachel dressed quickly, and once she was clothed, she paused a moment at the mirror. She barely recognized her own reflection and something about it terrified her. She turned from the mirror and went outside in search of Cole and Jane. She found them by the stables, leading out horses.

  “How many do you have?” she asked as she approached them.

  “Four,” Cole replied once it was clear that Jane wasn’t going to. “This here’s Duncan, then we’ve got Canter, Silver, and Callie.”

  “They’re beautiful horses,” Rachel said sincerely.

  “We had more,” Jane said bitterly. “But we had to sell them.”

  “Show Rachel how to harness a horse,” Cole said abruptly. “Then we take them to the fields.”

  It was the single most exhausting day in Rachel’s life. She had never imagined that a person could take on quite so many tasks in one day. She stood there, under the heat of the afternoon sun, with sweat hot on her brow and prayed that it would be over soon. The fields seemed to stretch on for miles, and no matter how many times she ploughed through them with Cole and Jane, they remained unconquerable.