Want Ad Wedding

by Cheryl St. John

  With Daniel she knew where she stood. He was a good, trustworthy, hardworking man. His self-made success did mean security, but security of possessions meant nothing without the assurance of his steadfast kindness and integrity. No matter what happened, Daniel was an honest, dependable man, and he would be here for her and her child. They had an arrangement.

  * * *

  Daniel hadn’t made any false promises or pledged his love. Opal had simply seen concern in his expression. And Leah was satisfied with that.

  Assured that Leah was good to walk home, Daniel tarried at the hotel. Several of the ranchers and homesteaders had shown up for the meeting and they wanted to discuss problems with their cattle.

  “I had ten cows die day before yesterday,” Judd Ernst said. “At that rate I’ll be broke b’fore I can ship ’em out.”

  His announcement created a ruckus among the cattlemen.

  “This never happened b’fore the Texas cows were loading here.”

  “Somebody needs to pay for the cows lost.”

  “Cain’t afford to lose our own stock.”

  “Gentlemen, we don’t know this is splenic fever,” Will said, hands upraised to silence the chaos.

  “It’s Texas fever all right,” Billy Simms argued. “None of the Texas cows are sick and ours are droppin’ dead like flies. We need to move the drives west. Some of them are trampling farmland.”

  “It does sound like Texas fever,” D.B. said with an apologetic glance at Daniel.

  Daniel felt half sick at the speculation. He’d made a huge financial commitment to this town. He and Will had encouraged families and businesses to travel here and invest all they had. Those people would go broke if the cattlemen took their business farther west. This would be another ghost town like Harper.

  “Having the railroad here is what brings the cattlemen,” Will argued. “We wouldn’t have a town if not for the longhorns.”

  “We were here runnin’ stock before the railroad,” Judd pointed out. “Their infected cows kill all of ours, and then where will we be?”

  “Why don’t we send for the veterinarian in Salina to come over and look at the stock?” Daniel suggested. “In the meantime, we’ll do all we can to keep the Texas herds confined. There isn’t a drive scheduled to arrive until next week now, and the last of Theo Pierce’s cows just shipped out.”

  “Good riddance,” Billy mumbled.

  Noah hadn’t said anything during the heated discussion. He was part of bringing the Texas cows through, but he ran his own shorthorn stock, as well. So far none of his herd had been affected. “Make sure your stock has clean fresh water,” he told the other ranchers. “And we’ll wait for the Salina horse doc before making any decisions.”

  “Make it fast,” Billy said.

  Daniel nodded. “We will, Billy. No one wants any more cows to die.”

  He and Will exchanged a concerned glance. The sooner they figured this out the better.

  * * *

  The following morning Valentine prepared them a breakfast of sausage, eggs and biscuits and set a small table in the shade of the overhang outside the back door.

  “I think I should build us a porch,” Daniel suggested. “For mornings like this. And for evenings. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

  “You had a lot on your mind I’m sure.” Leah glanced across the side yard and spotted the horse and plow. “Daniel, what is the horse doing out there?”

  “Why, waiting to turn up the earth, of course. I’m going to plant you a kitchen garden.”

  “A garden!” She looked at him in surprise. “Why that’s a lovely idea. And you’re doing it yourself?”

  He lowered one brow and offered her a twisted grin. “You don’t think I’m getting soft, do you? I still work horses and get my hands dirty. I haven’t turned into a dandy simply because I operate a few businesses.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think you’re getting soft. I simply thought you might have business to attend to.”

  “This is my business today.”

  “There’s an advantage to being the boss,” she supplied.

  He grinned. “And having a good pair of boots.”

  She moved aside the draping tablecloth to examine his footwear. “Did Amos make those?”

  “He did. I own four pair.”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “I was his first customer, and he gave me a free pair for each pair I bought.”

  “Still, four pair seems excessive.”

  “I marched hundreds of miles in winter and summer, in snow and rain, wearing boots that were ill-fitting with holes worn in the soles. My feet were swollen, blistered, bandaged and wet. Just the memory of it now makes my feet ache to the bone.” He took a breath, let it out slowly. “I swore if I lived through the war and made it out in one piece I’d own the finest boots money could buy. Godwin’s boots are the finest I know.”

  Leah studied him now, so at ease in this setting—his hair mussed, his skin golden, a man of his own making—and imagined the years of hardship that had taken a toll. Her chest ached at the thought of so many men living and fighting under those conditions, so many who’d had the same dreams, but who hadn’t lived to make them come true. Her father and brother had been among those who’d experienced the same adversity, far from home, missing their families. Her eyes burned with tears and she blinked them back.

  “I’m sorry, Leah. I shouldn’t have brought up the war.”

  She reached immediately for his hand and grasped it until her knuckles turned white. “No, Daniel, I believe you should. I want to hear where you were and what you did, as painful as it may be.” A lump rose to her throat, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. “I thought all I wanted to do was forget, but we can never forget. We have to remember what we fought for. What we lost and what was gained. It’s the only way to move forward and the only way to never let it happen again.”

  He turned his hand over and placed his other one on top of hers. His hands were strong and warm, the skin at the base of his fingers lightly callused. Something passed between them in that moment. Something as radiant and warm as the morning sun. Something that bound them by experience and their shared humanity. Something hopeful and honest and right.

  Daniel leaned toward Leah and touched his firm warm lips to hers. “Thank you for marrying me.”

  She blinked in surprise. “You’re welcome.”

  “Finish your breakfast,” he said, and they ate and sipped coffee to the sounds of Valentine washing pans and lids in the kitchen.

  After breakfast Daniel supplied her with a comfortable canvas chair and the same awning he’d set up for their picnic.

  “I’m undoubtedly the most spoiled woman in Kansas.”

  “Probably. All your hard work is coming after the baby arrives, so enjoy your time now.”

  “I shall.” But she knew motherhood would not be a hardship. She wanted children and couldn’t wait for this one.

  He hitched the plow to the horse and plowed a sizable plot of land for the garden. He finished and unharnessed the animal and rubbed his nose.

  “Is that your horse?” she called.

  “No, he belongs to Walter Frye. Mine has never pulled a plow and the job would have taken three times as long.”

  “Now you plant the seeds Noah gave us?”

  “Now I do a lot of raking to break up these big clods. Then I plant the seeds.”

  Leah went inside and carried out a tray with a pitcher and glasses. She poured Daniel lemonade. He joined her under the canopy, tossing down his hat and displaying hair wet from exertion and a smudge of dirt on his nose. He sat on the grass, strong, corded forearms over his bent knees and drank three glasses of the refreshing sweet liquid.

  “What about Noah?” she asked.


  He glanced up at her. “What about him?”

  “Why doesn’t he have a wife? He doesn’t show any interest in the other brides. Has he lost a wife perhaps?”

  “No. He stays to himself. He wanted no part of the new brides.”

  “Is it because he’s self-conscious?”

  Daniel nodded. “And in more pain than he lets on. The burns aren’t only on his face. His chest and arm are scarred as well.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “In the summer of ’63 we joined the regiments at Gettysburg. Despite his struggle about fighting his fellow Virginians, he was a good leader. He’s brave, honorable. I think he always thought he had to do more, fight harder because he’s a southerner. We were fighting at Little Round Top and Brigadier General Weed was killed by a sniper. The rest of us were stunned. Noah, though, he ran forward to take the general’s place. His gun backfired and he was burned.”

  “That’s awful.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “I suppose his recuperation took a long time.”

  “And once he was released he came here, staked a claim,” he said. “Will and I found him after the war.”

  “And you started the town?”

  “Honestly we just relished the peace and quiet for a time. Bought up the land with our army pay. Raised some horses. There was a stage station, a few buildings. Then the Union Pacific came through.” He took a long sip of lemonade, then went on. “Land value went up and so we sold sections of our land for outrageous amounts. Once the rails were here, the Texans flooded north looking to ship their longhorns east. Will brought in business owners. I built the stockyards.”

  “And houses.”

  He nodded. “Need homes for wives and families. Need families for schools and churches. It took less than a year for Cowboy Creek to become an honest-to-goodness town. Seemed like the homesteaders, farmers, businessmen arrived every day. Drovers came through, bringing their cattle, and the cowboys spent their money in town.”

  “But no women.”

  “Very few. We decided something had to be done about that.” He handed her his glass. “As enjoyable as this is, I’m not going to get the ground ready if I sit here talking all day.”

  “I guess I’m a bad influence.”

  He stood. “You’re a good listener.”

  She crooked a finger. “Come here.”

  “What?”

  “Bend down here.”

  He took a step to stand in front her and leaned down until their faces were inches apart.

  She reached up with the pristine white napkin she held and wiped the spot of dirt from the side of his nose.

  Their eyes met and held. A dozen questions stirred in the depths of his green eyes. His gaze lowered to her lips.

  Leah’s heart fluttered. She remembered the kiss he’d given her after they’d said their marriage vows. And the kiss he’d offered only a few hours ago after breakfast. She liked that they were still friends, friends who shared things. This element had been missing from her relationship with her husband. He’d never seemed to have time for her—or interest in her or her feelings or her experiences. She’d never felt important, wanted or needed. She suspected he’d married her because she was reasonably attractive and made a nice picture on his arm at officer’s functions. He’d certainly never looked at her the way Daniel was looking at her now.

  “That’s better,” she said a bit breathlessly. “Back to work with you now.”

  His lips widened into a grin that made her heart skip a beat. “Yes, ma’am. There’s more here to do, you know. Besides your kitchen garden.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m planting all the vegetables out here, but Noah also gave us bushes and flowers I’ve been keeping watered. We need to plant a few trees and get a proper flower garden started.”

  Daniel went back to his task. The sun felt good. The day was bright and beautiful, and after all this time he had someone to talk to. Will and Noah were good friends of course, but men held their feelings close and avoided uncomfortable subjects. He felt as if he could share anything with Leah. Although he hoped he wasn’t being foolish, setting himself up for more disappointment, deep down he sensed she seemed to truly care and was interested in what he had to say. If not for the problems going on with the sick cows and the Murdoch gang, he’d be a happy man.

  Now more than ever, the success of Cowboy Creek was imperative.

  Chapter Eleven

  The following day Daniel got word that the veterinarian from Salina had arrived. He met him at the Cattleman Hotel, where the council had reserved a room for him. They rode out to survey the stockyards and check with nearby ranchers.

  “It just don’t look like Texas fever,” Henry Lowell told him after they’d inspected sick cows on yet another ranch. “They’re mighty sick, no doubt about that, but these cows we saw today are getting skinny, their coats are patchy. They stumble.” He took off his hat and scratched his head. “True, Texas fever makes ’em stumble, but splenic fever always produces fever and bloody urine.”

  “I thought the same,” Daniel acknowledged. “This looks more like something they ate. I’ve seen oats get contaminated with pigweed or sorghum with Russian thistle, but not all the ranchers get their feed from the same place. Most of these ranchers grow their own feed, and the same symptoms exist in cows fed differently. It doesn’t make any sense if the problem isn’t something contagious.”

  “No, it don’t.” Henry settled his hat back on his head.

  Daniel didn’t like where his thoughts were taking him. He glanced around the pasture where they stood. “Let’s check their water source.”

  They found a creek fed by the Smokey Hill River and rode along the bank. Daniel dismounted and walked along a rocky edge, where the water below was deep. After standing still for several minutes, a carp opened its mouth above the water. Farther out he spotted a large bass. Henry had gotten off his horse and investigated upstream. They walked toward each other.

  “Nothing wrong with this water,” Daniel said.

  They rode the fence line, looking at the grass. There were no harmful weeds in sight.

  They found Judd Ernst cleaning a horse’s hoof outside his barn.

  “These cows have any other source of water?” Henry asked.

  Judd pointed to the windmill in the nearest pasture. “Well out there a ways.”

  Daniel and the vet rode out to the well and examined the stock tank. Henry smelled the water. Daniel rode in increasingly wider circles around the area. Spotting a dead snipe, he recalled a magpie he’d seen on the ground earlier. He took a pair of leather gloves from his saddlebag, picked up the bird and went back for the other.

  Birds in hand, he headed back to the barn.

  “It’s possible someone poisoned your stock tank,” he told Judd. “Birds probably drank from it.”

  Judd smacked his hat across his thigh in anger. “I picked up three or four swallows the other day. The missus’ cat is missing. Doesn’t that beat all? Who’d poison a man’s stock?”

  Henry joined them and Daniel showed him the birds before finding a shovel in the barn and burying them.

  “Well, it ain’t splenic fever,” Henry confirmed. “Which means the Texas cows didn’t bring it here.”

  “But someone is poisoning our cattle,” Judd said with a scowl. “Don’t know who. Don’t know why.”

  The fact that the cattle hadn’t died from the fever was a relief, but the thought that someone—or more than one person—was out there causing harm was disturbing. Could it have something to do with the Murdoch gang? What possible reason would they have to kill cattle?

  “Empty and scrub that tank good,” Henry told Judd. “Set a watch or get a dog out there. You got a dog?”

  “Dog ran
off a year or so ago.”

  “I’ll bet Wolf is the reason no one was able to poison Noah’s stock,” Daniel said, thinking aloud.

  “I’ll get a dog. Until then me and my boys can take turn keeping watch.”

  “Be careful,” Daniel warned him. “Whoever this is doesn’t have a conscience.”

  He and Henry headed back to Cowboy Creek. He would alert Quincy and ask for help spreading the word to the homesteaders and outlying ranches. He needed to come up with a plan to safeguard the tanks at the stockyards. At least he was aware of the problem now.

  “Enjoy a night at the hotel,” he told Henry. “I let them know you’d put your meals on my tab tonight and in the morning. I appreciate you coming all this way to help us figure this out. I knew something was fishy.”

  “Glad to be of help.” They pulled up their horses in front of the hotel just as Mrs. Foster, the housekeeper, was making her way toward the door with a parcel.

  Henry slid from his horse and dashed to take the package from her. She looked surprised, but after a glance over his shoulder at Daniel, she gave the vet a smile and he accompanied her inside.

  Daniel headed for the sheriff’s office. He had to get to the bottom of these dead cows and safeguard the rest of the cattle. The future of Cowboy Creek was at stake.

  * * *

  “Thank goodness there’s an abundance of men in this town,” Pippa said to the ladies who gathered in the churchyard the following morning. “From what I hear there are guards posted everywhere—at all the major entrances to town, at all the ranches. This outlaw gang has caused everyone trouble.”

  “Are they the ones poisoning the cattle?” Opal asked.

  “Poisoned?” Dora asked. “It’s not Texas fever then?”