by Iris Kelly
Fanny let out a sigh of relief. She really had planned to tell her father about the mail order bride ad before Mrs. Maxwell arrived, but she knew what the reaction would be. He wouldn’t even give the idea a chance. But if he could only see her, get to know her, develop some regard for her, then marriage might be a very hard thing for him to turn down. At least, she could only hope so.
*****
Lydia’s heart had beat with excitement just at the prospect of meeting Fanny Cooper. A stepdaughter. The dark haired, fresh-faced young woman before her was lively and unpretentiously pretty.
“It’s so good to meet you, Mrs. Maxwell. Mrs. Carlyle never told me that you were this young,” Fanny said.
“I’m sure I mentioned how lovely my aunt was,” Virginia objected.
“Well, maybe you did. But that’s what everyone says about everyone. I didn’t know that she was actually gonna be lovely.”
Lydia’s elegant features, clear youthful complexion, and slim figure often gave others the impression that she was ten years younger than her actual age. Lydia blushed as if the compliment were coming from a suitor.
“You’re very kind, Fanny. I’m so looking forward to getting to know you better.”
“Well, why don’t we grab your things and be on our way?”
“We’ll keep most of her trunks here until Mr. Cooper and Lewis find time to take them over,” Virginia said.
Fanny nodded gratefully. She had forgotten about the difficulty of explaining Lydia’s large pile of trunks to her father. “I hope you don’t mind pa not picking you up. Sometimes it’s hard to get away from ranch business, and I told him I’d be happy to do it.”
“Oh, not at all. Now that our meeting is almost here, I find I’m rather nervous.”
“Wonderful man. No need at all to be nervous. But why don’t you check your room one last time and make sure you didn’t leave anything?” Virginia said.
As soon as Lydia left the room, Virginia turned to Fanny. “What did he say?” she whispered. “How did he react?”
“He . . . don’t know yet,” Fanny confessed.
“What!!?”
“Well, she don’t know yet either, do she?”
“Oh, dear, what are we going to do?”
“She’s gonna stay at our house as our guest because she has a peculiar interest in cattle ranches. That’s what my pa thinks. And they’re gonna get to know each other. That’s what’s gonna happen.”
A deep chuckle from Lewis’s direction caused both women to turn around. “I hereby disavow any knowledge of this scheme, particularly since Mr. Cooper helped me to obtain employment.”
“I, Virginia Carlyle, acted without the knowledge or approval of my husband. Would you like me to print that up and run it past your lawyer?”
“Would you?”
Then they both chuckled. Fanny could not believe their lack of anxiety. Perhaps she could never share their ease because she knew her father much better than they did. But there was no turning back. Lydia parted affectionately from the Carlyle family and prepared herself to meet Giles Cooper. Thank goodness that Lydia was so pretty. Fanny could only pray for love at first sight.
As their wagon jostled down the road, the sheer weight of all Fanny’s secrets became more than she could bear.
“Mrs. Maxwell, may I confide in you?
“Certainly, my dear. I’m happy to be in your confidence.”
“I am engaged to be married. His name is Ned Sullivan. He’s the sweetest guy. Only my father doesn’t know about it yet. And I’m not quite ready to tell him.”
“Oh, but that’s wonderful news. You will be the last of his children to leave home? I can see how that might be difficult for him. But he will be getting married himself. What fortunate timing. Which one of us do you suppose will be getting married first?”
Fanny plastered on a nervous smile. If this plan goes south, possibly neither of us.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mr. Cooper’s hair was peppered with gray and white, as was his thick mustache. His body was sturdy and strong. Chaps, boots, holster. Lydia could not have been more pleased. He was the very picture of a cowboy.
“Welcome to the Cooper Ranch, Mrs. Maxwell. I hope it meets with your expectations,” Giles said.
“Mr. Cooper. I am so pleased to finally be here. My expectations . . . I have seen nothing to believe I will be disappointed.”
“Why don’t we have some supper and then, Pa, you can show Mrs. Maxwell around the ranch a bit while I clean up?” Fanny suggested.
“Sure, sure. It would be my pleasure.”
Giles surprised even himself. He had expected to find their guest an annoying intrusion. And being Mrs. Carlyle’s aunt, he had also expected her to be older. One thing was clear, judging from her and her niece - they were an uncommonly good-looking family.
“What would you like to see, Mrs. Maxwell?”
“Oh, everything. I know I’ve missed the branding. But I want to see the cattle and the ranch hands and the bunkhouse and the horses and the roping, and the songs around the campfire and . . . and . . . the chuck wagons . . .”
Giles and Fanny both burst into laughter.
“You sound like you want to be on a cattle drive—especially for the chuck wagon,” Giles said.
Lydia was a little embarrassed. “I suppose that it’s really just a kitchen on wheels. Obviously no need for that when you’re at the ranch.”
“Oh, it’s a lot more than a kitchen. It’s where you sleep. Where you get warm. Get patched up when somethin’s gone wrong. Listen to stories, sing songs, have a smoke, talk to the other hands. ’Cause everyone’s been on their own horse all day, not close enough to exchange a word with anyone. But back around the chuck wagon, you’re with your friends, and for a lot of loners, the closest thing they have to a family. A good chuck wagon’s worth its weight in gold, Mrs. Maxwell. I had to give up the long drives a while back because of my family, but I remember those days. A young man without home or family could do a lot worse.”
Lydia was enthralled. “And then you slept under the stars? Every night?”
“Not much choice. No problem when things were warm and dry. But pretty miserable in the rain. And if there was thunder . . .”
“Yes? What happened in the thunder?”
“Stampedes. That’s what. It doesn’t take a lot to spook cattle. Thunder’ll do it every time. You just pray that they stampede in the same direction. Then you can try to drive them in a circle till they tire out. But most of the time, no such luck. They scatter off in every which direction, and it can take a week or more to round them back up.”
“How horribly frustrating!”
“That, ma’am, may be an understatement. There were days when you would gladly shoot the man next to you, if it made the cows come back.”
Lydia laughed. “And that is an overstatement. But I take your meaning. What resources of strength you all must have.”
It had been a long time since anyone had hung on Giles’s every word. That it should be a genteel lady from Boston with an inexplicable enthusiasm for ranching was one of life’s more incomprehensible mysteries. It was nice to have an audience for his old yarns. Fanny had surely heard them all one too many times.
After the midday supper, Giles made good on his promise of a tour around the ranch. Lydia beamed at the sight of the cattle.
“Herefords. I suspected as much. No more Longhorns.”
“No, that’s right. Longhorns didn’t have enough meat on them. But, they were some hardy creatures. They didn’t need a single thing from us. They could live in the wild as easily as the bears or the bison. These Herefords are a pretty recent development, ’cause they sure never could have survived a fifteen hundred mile cattle drive. Or a river crossing. But . . . now everyone has them. Things are changing very quickly in ranching.”
“I know,” Lydia said.
Giles lifted an amused eyebrow. “What do you know?”
“I know that the trains have ch
anged everything. For the better, I think. The European markets certainly couldn’t have opened up without them. And the barbed wire. I know that’s been developing for ten years now. And I suppose that you must have some very strong feelings about it, but I think it has led to some fascinating developments.”
“Such as . . .”
“Well, overgrazing is going to become a big problem, if it hasn’t already. But what an advantage to steer the cattle wherever you want them and to allow different pasture areas to rest and recover.”
“True.”
“And breeding. To be able to control what time of year the calving takes place. And if you’ve a mind to, to experiment with different cross-breeds. Have you engaged in those sort of experiments, Mr. Cooper?”
“Ah . . . not yet. I have idly let nature take its course. But I am grateful to have such expertise at hand.”
“I make no such claims. Everything I know is from the written word and I won’t pretend otherwise. But here it all is now, in the flesh. And I must say, it’s rather thrilling.”
Giles had failed miserably to pass along his passion for ranching to his sons. How unexpected to find such enthusiasm in a lady. Perhaps she would enjoy a ride out on to the range. He couldn’t remember if Fanny had mentioned how long Mrs. Maxwell would be staying. Hopefully long enough to get one ride in.
*****
The evening brought another very sociable meal. Giles felt a bit silly for being apprehensive about having a third wheel intrude in their home. Well, thank goodness he still had enough manners to entertain such a sophisticated guest.
As a rule, he had never been an extremely sociable man, outside of his family, and he had never had to be. A wife and eight children, and a bunkhouse full of workers had been all the society he required. Of course, Emily had frequently dragged him out of his comfortable shell with her friendships and her charitable concerns. Now, with her gone and seven children out of the nest, he had settled into being a solitary man.
“Mrs. Maxwell, there’s a bit of calving left to finish up. We could have a look in the morning if you’d like.”
“Oh, I’d love nothing better.”
“And maybe later, we could take a ride out a ways. You do ride?”
“I do. And I just learned how to ride on a man’s saddle. Well, I wanted to be well-prepared for the ranch. It’s quite a bit easier than side-saddle. Thank you, Mr. Cooper. I look forward to such an exciting day,” Lydia said.
Giles had to smile. When Fanny had told him about their guest, he was sure that she would be bored and disappointed with ranch life. Now it was clear that nothing would bore Mrs. Maxwell. Even watching the fences be mended would probably garner her appreciation. He would have to bring her right up close to one of the cows tomorrow. Close enough for her to touch. She’d go back to Boston with plenty of stories to tell, that was for sure.
After dinner, they all retired to the parlor, where Lydia was immediately drawn to the handsome piano along the wall. She ran her fingers along a small section of keys.
“It’s in tune. Which one of you plays?”
“Neither,” Fanny said. “It was my two older sisters, Bridget and Marjorie that were the players. They’re both still in Wyoming Territory, in Laramie and Sheridan with their husbands. They come by every once in a while, and it sure is nice to have music in the house. Will you play somethin’ for us, Mrs. Maxwell?”
“Yes, we’d both sure enjoy that. If you don’t mind,” Giles concurred.
From his ad and their correspondence, Lydia knew that Mr. Cooper was a man who appreciated hearing the piano well played. She had accordingly devoted herself these last few months to heightening her playing skills. After all, he was enriching her life in every manner and she must do her best to do the same for him.
“I have primarily studied classical music. Although, I certainly could learn some more popular songs, given a little time.”
“Play anything,” Fanny urged. She realized that Mrs. Maxwell’s offer to learn something new for them would hint to Giles that she was planning on staying for some time.
“All right. Perhaps some Liszt. And Haydn. And Beethoven. And then you’ll have had your fill, I’m sure.”
From the first note, Giles’s eyes widened. He had never been to a classical concert. He had never heard anything but sprightly dance music and folk tunes coming out of this piano. This was something more celestial. Just slightly reminiscent of church music, but more unexpected. Delightful and exuberant. When it was done and Lydia turned to see their reaction, Giles could only shake his head.
“I guess I know now why people go to concerts. That was astonishing, Mrs. Maxwell, it truly was. I think you must be something of a genius.”
“Oh no, Mr. Cooper, no. I mean to say that there is genius at work here, but it is all in the hands of the composer. I only sound so well because he has provided such a breathtaking assembly of notes for me. But I am happy that you enjoyed it. Would you like to hear another?”
Giles and Fanny both nodded eagerly. Lydia gladly turned back to her playing. There would be so many such evenings in their future, and she was happy to give such pleasure to her new family. She chose a piece next that she knew was especially likely to dazzle, and her favorite—Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. She wished that she could see the looks on their faces behind her, but she could well imagine them. It was a well-rehearsed piece in her repertoire, and she played it near flawlessly. When she turned around again, she had to stifle a laugh at their stunned expressions.
“What does it mean?” Fanny demanded “It has to mean something.”
“She’s right. It feels like it’s about something, like a war, or a day of judgment, or somethin’. Losin’ or winnin’ or runnin’ away from somethin’. Don’t laugh, Mrs. Maxwell. Tell us what it was about,” Giles demanded.
“Well, that’s not such an easy thing, Mr. Cooper. The composer is long dead, and I don’t know if even he could have answered such a question. But . . . it does take you to another place, doesn’t it?”
“Amen,” Giles said.
All three of them laughed. Lydia was filled with relief and anticipation. She couldn’t have asked for a better situation. But how soon would Mr. Cooper want to broach the subject of their impending marriage? Tomorrow, no doubt. The thought sent pleasant shivers up her spine.
CHAPTER SIX
Getting up at sunrise was going to take a little getting used to. But that appeared to be when all activities got started, and Lydia didn’t want to miss a thing. Right after breakfast, Giles took her out to watch the calving. Two births were in progress, and a dozen men were gathered around, wolfing down coffee and gathering their supplies for the day.
“Mr. Cooper, would you be so good as to introduce me to your employees?”
“Umm . . . certainly. Hey, fellas. Mind your Ps and Qs. This is Mrs. Maxwell, visitin’ the Cooper family from Boston, Massachusetts.”
All hats were snatched off.
Giles continued, “This is my foreman, Zeke . . .”
Lydia nodded and gave him a warm smile. “Zeke.”
“Ma’am.”
“This is Clem.”
“Clem. And what would that be short for?”
The man next to Clem smirked. “Clementine.”
This was greeted with snorts and chuckles. Lydia couldn’t help laughing herself, but so good-naturedly, and with such a pretty, delightful sound that Clem could only smile bashfully.
The men were all pleased to have a pretty woman in their midst. Fanny Cooper was the only other woman who had been on the ranch in over six months. There had been a quilting bee, some ten months back, in preparation for the wedding of Esther Cooper. There had been close to a dozen women on the property at one time. That had been pretty exciting. Of course, the men had to keep their distance. But here Mrs. Maxwell was, as close and as pretty and as friendly as can be.
Everyone got the chance to look her in the eye and receive her smile, and hear their name spoken by her v
oice. It was the best morning any of them could remember in a long while. After the introductions were over, Giles led Lydia over to a cow in obvious distress.
“Any minute now. That calf is gonna come slidin’ right out.”
“Oh, she seems to be in quite a bit of pain. Is that normal?”
“This is at least her tenth calf. I think she’s just showing off for you. Like my men.”
“No, Mr. Cooper. Please. Does she need some sort of . . . assistance?”
“Only if the calf is comin’ out feet first. Tommy, check on that.”
Tommy knelt down and nonchalantly reached inside the cow. He then retracted a wet and unappetizing hand.
“Feels like a head to me.”
Another ranch hand, Ellwood, approached with a steaming hot cup of coffee.
“Ma’am would you like some coffee while you wait? Milk and sugar. Just like you ladies like it.”
“Oh, how nice. Thank you so much, Ellwood.”
She remembered his name! He ducked his head and then swaggered back to the others. Giles shook his head.
“They don’t get out much.”
“I think you have a wonderful staff.”
“Crew.”
“Of course, crew. Oh, goodness, goodness.”
While their backs had been turned, the calf’s head had popped out.
“Give her a hand, Tommy,” Giles ordered.
Lydia watched as Tommy again knelt obligingly and helped pull the calf out. It was so surprisingly large. And despite how dazed it looked, it was ready to walk!
Giles always made a point of attending the calving. After all, new stock was the lifeblood of the ranch. But the delight in Mrs. Maxwell’s expression—he could scarcely recall ever feeling that sensation of novel surprise. It was rather charming to see his ranch through her eyes.
*****
As promised, Lydia got to ride out and see more of the ranch. There were bits of low shrubbery here and there, and a few uneven grooves on the earth, caused by rain or cattle. But the land was otherwise, as flat and endless as could be imagined. It couldn’t help but inspire thoughts of a free, unimpeded gallop—an impossibility in her Boston lessons.