Wes worked on the ground, stirring up the tar and putting it in a bucket for Billy to haul up and smear over the shingles. Gallagher had a bucket as well and had started on the far side, and they’d meet in the middle. Some of the other men were similarly working in teams on the other cabins. They moved quickly, but carefully, knowing that any loss of concentration could lead to devastating burns.
Billy wiped his forehead with his sleeve and sat back on his heels, needing a moment’s rest. “I just keep thinkin’ about that party and gettin’ all dressed up for it and how different that is from our real life,” he said to Gallagher. “Goin’ from chasin’ cows to bowin’ and dancin’—it’s almost like pretendin’ to be people we aren’t.”
“Maybe it’s nice to have a break from bein’ the people we are for a little while,” Gallagher replied.
“Are you lookin’ forward to this party, then? When did your tune change?”
“Oh, I dunno. I like to put up a squawk and make sure my voice is heard, but I think I must be an old softie at heart.” He slapped another glop of tar onto the roof and used the paddle to smooth it down. “Maybe I won’t mind dancin’ with a pretty girl a few times.”
“Lemme just make sure I’m hearin’ you correctly. Did you just admit to bein’ a softie?”
“Yeah, maybe I did.”
Billy let out a low whistle. “I’ll be. Of all the words I never thought I’d hear come out of your mouth . . .”
“I didn’t say you could go around repeatin’ it, though. A man’s got to hold on to his reputation.”
“Well, of course he does. And I wouldn’t want anyone gettin’ confused, not knowin’ who you are anymore.”
They finished up the roof, and just in time, too—Billy’s shirt was drenched and he didn’t know how much more he could take of being put out there in the sun like a raisin on a drying sheet. He made his way over to the pump and stuck his head right in the flow, then pulled off his shirt and splashed water all over his chest and back. He almost swore he could hear the water drops sizzle when they hit his skin, he was so overheated.
After he and the other roofers got cleaned up, they made their way into the dining room, where the girls met them with cool glasses of water.
“You missed breakfast again, but I didn’t dare interrupt you this time because you were working with such dangerous materials,” Rowena told him, a smile on her face.
“Probably wise. Thank you.” He took the glass from her and downed it, even though he’d already drunk plenty out at the pump. As usual, she’d made his mouth go dry.
“I do need to talk to you, though. Margaret’s made some job assignments, and she’s asked if you and I will ride into town tomorrow. Tenny and Sully will be driving a few beef cows and a milk cow for the hotel, and Margaret would like us to pick up some party supplies while we’re there.”
Billy shook his head. “She wants us to go to town?”
“That’s right.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Miss Rowena. I’m not good at that sort of thing.”
“What sort of thing? Driving cows? I’ve heard you’re one of the best.”
He took a step back, surprised. “You’ve heard that?”
“Of course. Old Sully said so, and I don’t think he’s the sort to exaggerate something like that.”
“Oh.” Billy didn’t know Sully thought so highly of him. That was nice to hear. “Well, it’s more that I’m not good at gettin’ party supplies. Shoppin’ for doodads and whatnot.”
“I heard you did a wonderful job picking out Margaret’s yarn. Seems I’ve been hearing all sorts of nice things about you.”
Shoot. He’d never expected word to get out about that. Like Gallagher had said, a man had to protect his reputation. “I did all right, I suppose, but only because she told me exactly what to get.”
“And I have a list. Come on, Billy—you men handle the cows, I’ll take care of the shopping, and we’ll make a nice day of it.”
He wanted to say no, but she had a pleading look in her eyes, and he knew he was done for. “All right, I’ll go, but I don’t see why I’m wanted in particular. With Zeke still recuperatin’, I’m sorta in charge of finishin’ up the cabins, and I need to make sure that pitch sets up right, and . . .”
She held up a finger. “Everything will be fine,” she said. “I’ll make it as painless as possible. You won’t even know you’re within thirty yards of a store.”
“You promise? Because that sounds like a mighty tall order to fill.”
“I promise. I’m quite magical, you know. Now, have a seat—lunch will be ready in a few minutes.”
He already knew she was magical. Oh, boy—he sure knew it.
Chapter Four
“You would have thought I’d asked him to kiss a rattlesnake.” Rowena looked over her shoulder to make sure none of the men could overhear her from the dining room. “I don’t think going into town with me is the most horrible thing a man could imagine, do you?”
Wynonna grinned. “Only if you’re a man as shy as Billy. Keep in mind, Rowena, you’re a beautiful young woman, and he hasn’t been around a lot of those as of late.”
“I keep reminding myself how isolated the ranch is, but still. It’s rather damaging to my confidence knowing that he’s not looking forward to tomorrow.”
“Maybe he meant it when he said he was worried about the roofs,” Cora volunteered. “I know he’s conscientious about his work—I was in the room when Wade and Margaret were talking about it yesterday.”
“Roofs or not, I hope he’s not so filled with dread that he has nightmares tonight.” Rowena picked up the tray Fiona had been filling with slices of bread. “It’s been a little while since I’ve seen myself in a decent mirror—maybe I’ve grown a third eye or something since we’ve been here and that’s why he doesn’t want to be seen in public with me.”
She pushed her way through the kitchen door and out into the dining room, where she placed some bread on each table. Cora was right behind her with plates of ham and beans, and once they’d delivered this course, they’d go back and load up their trays with apple pie. It was a repetitive task that didn’t require much attention, and that was unfortunate because it allowed Rowena’s mind to wander to all the possible reasons why Billy could be acting so strangely. By the time the meal was over and the dishes were washed, she could only think of one thing, and she marched across the compound and up the stairs to the main house, where Helen and Margaret were sitting in the front room knitting booties.
“Margaret, may I look in your mirror?” she said by way of hello.
Margaret glanced up, surprised. “Of course. It’s over my dresser—you know where it is.”
Rowena gave a short nod, turned, and went into the bedroom, where she leaned closer to the glass and scrutinized herself in minute detail. She thought she looked the same, but Billy was seeing something she wasn’t—he must be.
“What’s the matter?” Helen asked from the doorway.
Rowena scowled at her reflection, then turned and followed her friend back into the main room. “It’s nothing,” she said, moving a throw pillow to make room to sit down. “I’m just suddenly very unattractive.”
“I beg your pardon?” Margaret raised an eyebrow. “You’ve just seen yourself in the mirror, and you believe you’re unattractive? Surely it’s been dusted more recently than that.”
“Well, I don’t know how else to explain it. I told Billy about our trip to town, and he looked desperate to get out of it. It was like I’d told him about his impending death by a dozen stinging scorpions.”
Margaret laughed. “You’re not to worry—Billy always acts that way when it comes to trips into town. I send Jack for supplies most of the time because he’s so efficient, but whenever I can, I have him take Billy along. It’s good for him to be around other people and not just the ones he knows from the ranch.”
“So he always looks like he’s been tossed into a cave of ravenous bears?”
&nbs
p; “Always.”
Rowena leaned back and folded her arms. “I suppose that’s good to know, but I must say, it’s rather crushing when you invite a man to go somewhere with you and he gives you such a negative reaction.”
Margaret smiled. “So, Billy’s opinion is beginning to matter to you, is it?”
“It’s always mattered—at least somewhat. I just find him impossible to read and highly perturbing, that’s all.”
Helen smirked. “That sounds like the start of a promising relationship.”
“Yes, it does,” Margaret agreed.
“Promising? How is this promising?” And did Rowena want it to be promising? That was the real question—one that she hadn’t actually asked herself. Billy was handsome, to be sure. He worked hard, so he was broad-shouldered and muscular. She liked his shy smile, and he had a gentle way about him, but . . . that was all she knew about him. She couldn’t even compare his traits to someone else’s because she didn’t know what his traits were—he simply didn’t speak enough for her to know.
“Anytime someone perturbs you, it’s promising.” Margaret sat up a little straighter. “I think I’ll go lie down for a while, and I’ll be fine by myself. Could you spread the word that the men should gather here after dinner? I’ll hold our first official etiquette lesson tonight so Rowena will have a better chance at a conversation with Billy tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate it quite a lot.”
Rowena and Helen made sure that Margaret was resting comfortably and that the kitchen was tidy before they left, then they crossed the courtyard to find the other girls, who were sitting on the front porch of Big Mike’s cabin hemming curtains. Soon, the cabins would be ready and they’d rearrange everyone’s sleeping quarters, and they’d continue to adjust as Helen and Zeke married and then Jack and Wynonna.
Rowena supposed that’s what life was all about—constant change, constant shifting, always being ready to slide into the next phase or take on the new set of responsibilities. It seemed that nothing was ever steady and dependable—except maybe the people. As she looked around at her friends, Rowena was grateful that in a life of chaos, she could depend on these girls who had leaped into this adventure with her.
***
Billy gave his boots another wipe on the mat just to be on the safe side, then opened the door and walked into the main house. The front room was already packed tightly with the other men, but if he sidled in, there was just enough room for him as well. Miss Margaret didn’t seem to have started the lesson yet, so he wasn’t interrupting anything when he leaned over to Jack and said, “Trade me places tomorrow. You go into town for me.”
“Can’t,” Jack whispered back. “Have to put down that cow after all and get her butchered. Frisco and I are headin’ out to take care of it right after this class, or whatever it is, to get her out of her misery.”
“Come on. You can butcher a cow faster’n almost anyone I know. You can get it done and still go to town for me, can’t you?”
Jack grinned. “Just go. It’ll be good for you.”
“I think you’ve all ganged up on me. You think you’re gonna get me good and socialized one way or another.”
“Yeah, that’s about the size of it.”
Billy shook his head and turned to the front of the room just as Miss Margaret started talking. “I realize this isn’t comfortable for most of you,” she began, “but I’ll keep it simple and hopefully not too embarrassing. First of all, though, let’s get something out of the way. I understand that Jack’s been taking some ribbing for suggesting these classes and then finding himself a lady before we’d even begun. Is this true?”
A few of the men chuckled.
“We might have tossed him in the waterin’ trough the other night,” Gallagher admitted.
Billy wasn’t sure how Miss Margaret would take to that news, but she laughed, surprising him. “It does seem unfair that he and Wynonna are getting along so well naturally, but let’s be honest—he still has a ways to go, doesn’t he?” She turned and gave Jack a pointed look, and he ducked his head, nodding.
“We have a marvelous advantage when it comes to talking about ladies—I happen to know the ladies you’ll be interacting with, whether they’re the girls here on the ranch or the girls in town, and I happen to know what they’re looking for.”
“Some dandified fellow who wears linen suits and a pocket watch, no doubt,” Wes grumbled.
“Actually not.” Margaret clasped her hands on her lap, seeming quite pleased. “All the young ladies of my acquaintance are looking for one simple thing—a good-hearted man who’s ready to share that heart with them. That’s it. And you’re all good-hearted men—every one of you—so the battle’s half won.”
“But what about the other half?” Drew asked. “That whole . . . sharin’ thing?”
“Yes, that’s where things get tricky. Pardon me if I’m making assumptions, but it seems to me that men are raised to hide their feelings. Would you say that’s true?”
Billy glanced around to see a couple of the men nodding. He’d never thought about it much before, but he could see how that might be true.
“Little girls are expected to be the emotional ones, and little boys are expected to toughen up and be men long before they’re actually old enough. It’s a shame, really, because they stop sharing their thoughts and feelings, and those are exactly what it takes to win a woman’s heart. She wants to know your thoughts and your feelings, and if you can open up and share those with her, you’ve given her a priceless gift.”
“But why?” Benedict asked. “Why is that so important to them?”
“Because they know it took effort on your part to share, and they know you must care about them a great deal to expend that effort. It validates them. It makes them feel as though your attentions are genuine.” She paused, then laughed. “It’s funny, isn’t it, how I’m talking about ‘them’ as though I’m not a woman anymore? I suppose I do fall into a different category now that I’m married and I’m no longer looking for a husband.”
“But you still like it when Wade talks to you, I bet,” Old Sully said from the corner.
“I adore it. Some days, he gets so busy on the ranch with you men that I hardly see him for more than a few minutes here and there, and when he takes a moment to stop, look me in the eyes, and tell me how his day is going or ask me about mine, it sets everything right again.”
“All that just from a little conversation?” Gallagher sounded incredulous.
“Women aren’t as complicated as we’re made out to be,” Margaret replied. “Men spend a lot of time trying to figure us out, but in reality, they’ve held the key all along—we want to feel important in our men’s lives. When we feel important, we can handle the bumps and the challenges of life so much easier because we feel secure.”
“And talkin’ can do all that?” Gallagher asked again.
“It can. The right kind of talking. So, what is the right kind of talking?”
Of all the men in the room who needed help learning how to talk, Billy was at the top of that list, but he didn’t feel comfortable saying much during the lesson—the irony of which was not lost on him. He appreciated everything Miss Margaret was saying, but applying it to himself seemed like asking a young steer to put on a top hat and attend the opera. It just didn’t work.
After about an hour, the men started to trickle out. Billy stood up and was about to leave too, but Miss Margaret called out and asked him to stay. Shoot. He was already in trouble with the teacher and they were only one class in.
Once everyone was gone, Billy moved to the chair next to hers, and she smiled at him. “I won’t keep you long—I’m getting tired, and I’m sure you are too. I did want to see what you thought of tonight’s class, though—being the first and all. I’m not sure I’m saying what the men need to hear.”
Billy was taken aback. “You want to know what I think?”
“I sure do. You’re a thoughtful sort, Billy—you
form your opinions carefully, and they’re important to me.”
He sat up a little straighter, not sure how to respond. “I think you did a very nice job. You kept things from gettin’ boring, and it was nice to hear what ladies think from a lady’s perspective.”
“I hoped that would be the case. I noticed that you didn’t participate much.”
He nodded. “And I’m the one who probably should have been the most on my toes tonight, aren’t I?”
“As long as you were listening and felt you got some good out of it, I don’t mind if you’re quiet.”
Billy chuckled. “Seems like everyone else is tryin’ to get me to be louder.”
“It’s not a matter of being loud—it’s a matter of being comfortable sharing your thoughts, no matter what their volume.” She leaned forward a little. “Men like Gallagher and Wes and Abel—they talk a lot and they’re loud, but they don’t actually say much when it comes right down to it. Benedict? Sometimes I forget he’s even there, to be honest—he’s one who doesn’t say much because he doesn’t have much to say. You . . . you have things to say, but you aren’t saying them.”
She sat back and waited, and he knew she was going to hold out until he offered some sort of explanation. “I suppose I’ve never felt that my opinion was important,” he said after a long moment. “There’s always plenty of other people around to say it.”
“But not the way you say it. Not in your words.” She reached over and touched his sleeve. “Let me tell you something, Billy. Somewhere out there is a young lady whose heart is ready to be yours. There could be a dozen suitors on her doorstep right now ready to tell her about the stunning moonlight and the fresh evening breeze, but until you’re there and she hears it from you, it won’t matter. When you do show up and you do tell her about that moonlight, suddenly it will be the most important moonlight there ever was. The difference? The man who told her about it.”
A Rancher for Rowena Page 3