A Rancher for Rowena

by Amelia C. Adams

  “Well, shucks, Mike. Now you’re makin’ me feel emotional.” Frisco pretended to wipe at his eyes. “You know you can come over whenever you want. It’s just that havin’ your own cabin is a sign of respect. You’ve made it in the world.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that. It does make me feel good when I think about it. But it’s like I said—it does get lonely sometimes.” Mike downed the rest of his coffee, then came to his feet. “I’ve got some tack to oil before lunch.”

  “And I’ve got a rifle to clean.” Frisco stood up too. “Now that I’m done helpin’ Billy here with his hurry-up-and-do task, I can get on with my own work.”

  Billy shook his head. “You volunteered, remember? I didn’t force you to do anythin’. I just wanted the shingles on.”

  “Now see, that’s the trouble with these drag riders,” Frisco said to Mike. “They get so used to pushin’ the herd on a drive that they think they need to keep pushin’, like we’re always in a hurry to get somewhere.”

  “And we got done just in time for the rain, didn’t we? You’d better be glad I’m around to push you or things would never get done.” Billy stood up. “We’ve all got work to do before the bell—let’s get a move on.”

  “Yes, sir,” Frisco said, giving him a salute.

  ***

  Rowena dashed up the steps of the main house, ducking her head in a silly attempt to stay dry. Once under the safety of the porch roof, she turned and watched the raindrops hit the ground. Some seemed to bounce off the hard-packed earth, while others seemed to absorb immediately. She wondered what made the difference.

  After wiping her feet, she entered the house, smiling when she saw Cora and Margaret sitting together in the front room.

  “Dr. Wayment decided to let you up and around more?” she asked Margaret.

  “I can go as far as the front porch a couple of times a day, but if I start to feel worn out, it’s right back to bed for me,” she replied. “I certainly hope this child is cute—otherwise, I might not think this is worth it.”

  “Your baby is going to be absolutely beautiful. Or handsome,” Rowena said. “With parents like you and Wade, it won’t have a choice.” She sat down and glanced at the book Cora was holding. “What are you reading?”

  “Nothing educational whatsoever,” Cora replied. “Sully brought over a few more of his favorite romances. Gracious—the scrapes these characters get themselves into. Not a one of them are realistic at all, but they’re definitely entertaining.”

  “Cora’s been reading aloud while I wind yarn,” Margaret added. “She does all the voices, too—she’s quite a good pirate.”

  “A hidden talent. I’ll keep that in mind next time I need a pirate for something.” Rowena grinned. “Fiona has let me off kitchen duty for the rest of the day. How can I help?”

  “I guess that means my kitchen duty’s about to start.” Cora set the book down after marking the spot with a ribbon. “There’s some soup warming on the stove, so you could get that ready. And I don’t know what to do about the linens I just set to soak—we can’t hang them to dry until the rain stops.”

  “I’ll figure something out,” Rowena promised her, and Cora gave her a smile before leaving the house and scampering across the courtyard herself, trying to avoid getting drenched by the rain. Rowena watched her through the window with a grin. “Did I look that silly coming here?”

  “Yes. Every bit.” Margaret laughed, then said, “I hope you all realize I don’t need to be watched every single minute. I’m on bedrest, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be alone.”

  “We know that, but we also know that you’re stubborn and you like to push your limits. We’re concerned about you.”

  “Oh, you noticed my stubborn streak, did you?” Margaret laughed again. “It’s true—if you give me an inch, I’ll take a mile, and I must say, having the company is nice. But if you all want to be somewhere else at the same time, I know I could look after myself for a bit. I feel stronger every day, and Dr. Wayment agrees that the danger is almost past.”

  “That’s wonderful news. And as soon as he says the danger is completely past, we’ll stop worrying. In the meantime, though, that’s part of our job, isn’t it? We stayed on to help you—that’s our sole purpose in life.”

  “Oh, my. What boring lives you must lead.” Margaret motioned down to the basket next to her. “It’s almost as exciting as mine. I’ve rolled eight balls of yarn so far today.”

  “Good for you. Such nice colors, too.”

  “Yes, I figured that if I was going to learn how to knit and crochet and all those other highly domestic pursuits, I’d get myself a nice selection of colors. I told Billy what I wanted, and he took care of it on his last trip to town.”

  “Billy went yarn shopping for you?” Rowena asked. She tried to imagine him rummaging through skeins of yarn at the general store, but couldn’t quite make the picture appear in her head.

  “He did. I asked for some nice, bright, friendly colors, and he did a splendid job. I’m going to learn how to make slippers and mittens and scarves and hats and oh, gracious, Rowena. I think I’m going to lose my mind just sitting here. When will this be over?”

  “The entire pregnancy, or just this part of it? Because both are pretty much up in the air, aren’t they? I can’t give you a definite answer.”

  “Pretend. Make something up. Give me some peace of mind even if it’s only a fantasy like one of Sully’s books.”

  “All right. Dr. Wayment will proclaim you out of danger on his next visit, and you’ll have the baby the week before Thanksgiving.” Rowena closed her eyes and pretended to be thinking deeply. “Yes, that is correct. I have seen the future.”

  “Excellent. I can live with that.” Margaret leaned forward and adjusted the pillow behind her back. “And having my feet elevated on this hassock all the time puts pressure right in the center of my spine. People just weren’t built to sit this way.”

  “It will all be over soon, and once you’re holding that little baby in your arms, it will be worth it. Or at least, that’s what I’m told. I’ve never actually done it, so I can’t say for sure. You do know I’m the least useful when it comes to children, right? You’ll want one of the other girls to help you when the time actually comes. I’m far more useful scrubbing the floor or something.”

  “All right, you’ll be the official floor scrubber.” Margaret shifted again, trying to get comfortable. “You know, I think I’d like to move into the kitchen. Let’s have some soup and think about what exciting trouble we can get into this afternoon after my nap.”

  “Yes, let’s. So much exciting trouble awaits us.”

  Margaret hoisted herself to her feet, then walked into the kitchen without needing any support at all. “Gallagher stopped by a little while ago and brought some eggs,” she said as she sat at the kitchen table. “Says Billy nearly took your head off with a hammer.”

  “Gracious. That story’s certainly being circulated a lot.” Rowena checked on the soup, then took the pot off the heat and grabbed a couple of bowls. “It wasn’t anything to worry about, but Billy seems to think it was. He had so much guilt on his face when he came to apologize—an apology that wasn’t necessary because he’d already said he was sorry. I’m more than ready to forget about it.”

  “Gallagher mentioned it because he thought I might want to get started on those etiquette lessons I promised to give the men.”

  Rowena set the bowls of soup on the table. “I’m not sure I understand the connection, unless one of those lessons involves not dropping hammers off roofs.”

  Margaret folded her arms on the table and looked up at Rowena. “He seems to think that Billy dropped the hammer because he was so flustered at seeing you.”

  Rowena opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Flustered?”

  “That’s right. Sort of like you’re flustered right now.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Rowena pulled out another kitchen chair and sat down. “I
’m just surprised. Which is different, isn’t it?”

  “Mostly.” Margaret looked like she was enjoying herself. Good—at least she wasn’t bored. Rowena supposed she could deal with a little discomfort of her own if it took her friend’s mind off her troubles. “And I’ve just had the most wonderful idea that anyone has ever had.”

  “I’m not sure I like that glint in your eye,” Rowena said. “What are you thinking?”

  “Well, here I am, unable to do much of anything, and I need some entertainment. The men have asked if I’ll walk them through some of the finer points of being a gentleman—I should clarify that some of the men have asked for this, but not all. What better way to teach them etiquette than to prepare them for a party?”

  “A party? What sort of party?”

  “At first I was thinking about Zeke and Helen’s wedding, but they told me this morning they’d like to hold that in a month, and that’s too far away. So what about an engagement party? It could also be a housewarming party for the new cabins, or a party to celebrate Zeke regaining his sight—we have so many things to be grateful for. We could hold it in a week, and that would give me time to teach the men a few things like how to dance and whatnot. I promise, I wouldn’t do any actual dancing myself.”

  Margaret’s eyes had come to life while she spoke, and Rowena could see that this project would be good for her. “It seems like a lot of work,” she said falteringly. She didn’t want to disparage something that could make her friend happy, but she did have to be realistic.

  “Yes, but I don’t have much else to do,” Margaret replied. “Oh, do you know what? We should invite the waitresses from the hotel—the single ones. That would give the men a variety of girls to dance with, and I bet even Abel and Wes would have a good time. They don’t usually let themselves enjoy things, you see.”

  Rowena shook her head, smiling. “I shouldn’t be going along with this, but you’re having so much fun talking about it, I really can’t say no, can I?”

  “No, I don’t think you can, and neither can anyone else. That’s one benefit to being a pregnant lady on bedrest—it’s hard for people to say no to me.”

  “And you’re going to use that fact to your advantage, aren’t you?”

  Margaret grinned. “I’m trying not to abuse my power too frequently, but in this case, yes. I need entertainment, and this will entertain me. Let’s do it.”

  Rowena grinned in return. “All right, we will. But first, you need your lunch and a nap.”

  Margaret sighed. “And just like that, I’ve gone from being the queen to being a small child. I’ll be good and eat my lunch, Aunty Rowena. And then may I have a cookie?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Chapter Three

  When word got out that Miss Margaret was planning a party—and not just a party, but one where they would be expected to dance and act like dandified gentlemen—only a few of the fellows greeted the news with good humor.

  “Whose idea was it for us to have these etiquette lessons?” Frisco grumbled as he flopped onto his bunk.

  “Jack, if I recall right,” Benedict said from across the room.

  “Where is Jack, anyway?” Drew asked. “I haven’t seen him for a couple of days.”

  “He’s been takin’ care of a sick cow, mostly,” Billy replied. “And then spendin’ time with Miss Wynonna when he’s not with the cow.”

  “I’m sure glad one of them is a heap prettier than the other,” Tenny said, and all the men laughed.

  “So, what have you got against this party?” Zeke asked. “It sounds kind of fun to me.”

  “That’s because you’ve already landed yourself a girl, and there won’t be expectations,” Wes replied. “Miss Margaret’s bringin’ in some of her waitress friends from the hotel—that means she plans on all of us gettin’ in some good practice. I don’t know what we need all that practice for anyway—I’m gonna live and die out here on the ranch. I don’t need to know how to bow and scrape and curtsy.”

  “You can’t mean you don’t ever intend to go courtin’,” Old Sully said. “That’s puttin’ a lid on your whole life without waitin’ to see what’s in the pot.”

  “I just don’t see the need for it. Girls are nothin’ but a heap of trouble most of the time.”

  Zeke laughed. “This is startin’ to sound a whole lot like the conversation we had right before Old Sully ordered us some wives. We’d better be careful or he might do it again.”

  Sully raised his hand in surrender. “No, I learned my lesson good last time. Didn’t stop me from buying a new book, though. This one’s totally different from the others—it’s about a plantation owner . . .”

  Big Mike picked up a pair of socks and threw them across the room, where they hit Sully in the head.

  “Hey!” Sully rubbed the back of his neck. “Gotta watch out for those things. They can be deadly weapons.”

  “At least they don’t smell as bad now that the girls are washin’ them for us,” Mike retorted.

  “I’ve heard tell that they plan to teach us how to do our own laundry now that they’ve got things better organized,” Tenny said. “I don’t rightly know how I feel about that. On the one hand, we probably should learn how, but on the other, maybe we could just pay ’em a little more so they’ll keep doin’ it.”

  “I’m not sure there’s enough money in the world to pay someone to wash the socks that come out of this place.” Sully gave his neck another rub.

  “But now, about this party.” Frisco shook his head. “Jack’s the one who wanted lessons, he didn’t even end up needin’ lessons, and we’re the ones payin’ the price? How’s that even fair?”

  “I can’t understand why you think a party’s a bad thing.” Sully took his usual seat by the fire and pulled his whittling from his pocket. “Good food, pretty girls, a chance to get away from the cows for an evenin’—seems to me that you’re all complainin’ about being made to have a good time. Are you sayin’ you’d rather go have a conversation with a herd of cows than to pass the time with a nice girl?”

  “At least we know what to say to a cow,” Billy rejoined.

  “But you didn’t used to, did you? You had to learn. And that’s what Miss Margaret’s goin’ to do. She’s goin’ to teach you how to talk to girls just like you learned how to talk to cows.” Sully paused. “Well, that didn’t come out quite right, but you know what I mean. Ain’t nothin’ comes truly natural—we all have to learn at least a little bit.”

  “Might as well give up, men. Sully’s set on this, but even more than that, this is to entertain Miss Margaret, so it’s a lost cause.” Abel hung his suspenders over his bedpost. “There’s not a lot we can do to help her out, but we can give her one night of somethin’ to look forward to.”

  “Suppose you’re right,” Frisco grumbled, and one by one, the men got ready for bed and climbed in, still unhappy, but not as vocal about it.

  Before Big Mike extinguished the lights, he said, “All right, let’s get tomorrow straightened out. Breakfast as usual, then we’re all gonna seal off the new cabins’ shingles with pitch and get them dryin’. After that, we’re movin’ the cows to the south pasture.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” someone mumbled.

  A moment later, the door opened, and Jack came in, feeling his way in the darkness. “Sorry,” he said when he kicked a chair and made a loud scraping sound.

  “How’s the sick cow?” Mike asked.

  “Infected udder. We’re gonna have to see how she is in the morning to know for sure,” Jack replied.

  “All right. Oh, and by the way, Jack, you’d better start runnin’.”

  Jack paused. Billy could make out his silhouette in the dying light from the stove. “Runnin’?”

  “Yeah. You and your idea for us to have gentleman lessons.”

  Almost as one, several of the men leaped out of their beds and chased Jack from the bunkhouse. Billy didn’t care that he was barefoot—he was calloused enough to chase after the gr
oup without feeling a thing. When they caught Jack, they gave him a good dunking in the nearest water trough, and he came up coughing and spluttering.

  “Come on! That was six against one!” he protested. “You didn’t give me a chance!”

  “Did too. Told you to run,” Mike said with a grin.

  “Yeah, that was real good of you.” Jack wiped the water from his eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll sit in on the lessons too—not that I need ‘em now that I’m practically engaged and all.”

  “Maybe we should tell Miss Wynonna that Jack here doesn’t think he needs to spruce up a bit for her,” Gallagher called out. “Maybe he already thinks he’s gentlemanly enough.”

  “Now, I didn’t say I couldn’t use some sprucin’.” Jack held up both hands. “Everyone could, couldn’t they?”

  “Yes, sir, and maybe another bath!” Frisco took a threatening step forward, and Jack held his hands even higher.

  “I give, I give,” he said. “What do you want? Should I go tell Miss Margaret the party’s off?”

  “Naw, we can’t do that,” Frisco said. “We just wanted you to know how we feel about it.”

  “Recognized. Now let’s get to bed. Tomorrow’s comin’.”

  The men trailed Jack into the bunkhouse, where he had to strip clear down and start dry from the skin out. Billy felt sorry for him, but only a little. Seemed to him that if Jack was the one to suggest these ridiculous classes, he should suffer right along with the rest of them. He was glad that Jack was at least willing. It didn’t make up for everything, but the score did seem a little more even.

  ***

  Billy got up extra early the next day to beat the sun. It was hard work smearing pitch on a roof under the most ideal circumstances, but doing it in the kind of heat that would come up after a good rain was nearly unbearable. The sun pounded down and caused the water left in the soil to evaporate, creating a muggy, sticky feeling that made it hard to draw a deep breath. He’d just as soon get it over with.