“Though you’ve had two great relationships, that’s no guarantee for me or anybody else. In fact, I could fall for someone who’d treat me even worse.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Corinne kept her eyes on the grass stain she was trying to rub out. “I was responsible for getting into a relationship I knew was less than ideal. The other ones … well, I guess I’ve learned my heart cannot be trusted to choose men.”
“How old were you?”
“The first time? Sixteen.”
“Why, that’s no older than Celia. Don’t be so hard on your younger self. I’ve often told Celia if you can learn from your mistakes, then you’re better off for it. It might not be something you can look back on proudly, but you can use what you’ve learned to make your future something to be proud of.”
“But I didn’t learn. Or maybe I finally have.”
“Finally?”
“After the second man who … devastated me, I moved to Rapid City. I did the wash for the railroad workers. One particular worker kept flirting with me, but I kept myself from responding because I knew better than to trust a man. However, he was insistent and charming, with eyes the color of clover.”
When her heart couldn’t take it any longer—yet knowing he’d no longer be interested if he knew the truth—she’d told him everything, bracing herself to watch him walk away. But he’d only smiled and returned the next day with wildflowers.
She cleared her throat. “Once I decided to give him a chance, within weeks, we were talking of the future. He insisted on having enough money to buy a house outright before we married to be sure I wouldn’t have to work when children came along. I did his laundry, cooked him dinner—everything to help him save.”
Yet the week her laundry had burned down, he’d been nowhere to be found. Though he hadn’t yet saved enough for a house, she’d hoped he’d agree to move up the wedding so she’d have a place to stay. When she’d finally found him, he was ducking into Margaret Chase’s. The pretty widow had just started taking in laundry to support herself. Corinne had walked into the house in time to hear Randolph thank Margaret for taking care of his clothes, call her ‘sweetheart,’ and tell her he’d be back for dinner.
When he’d turned, his face had blanked and he’d walked past her without a word.
That day, she’d decided to never allow a man to shatter her heart like that again. Seemed Randolph hadn’t cared about her past mistakes only because he’d been after what he could get from her for nothing.
She’d been right all along. A good man wouldn’t be able to overlook her past.
“And?”
Corinne startled and looked at Annie. Seemed she’d relived all that in her head—good. “And then he left me, so I no longer waste my time hoping a good man will ever want to spend the rest of his life with me.”
Annie wrung out a chemise. “Only a year ago, I thought there weren’t many eligible, respectable bachelors living around here, but that’s what happens when you’re swamped with work and don’t get to know people. I’m sure others could have warned you about those men. Ask people you trust to be honest with you if you’re worried about someone. I could name a handful of men that I’m sure are decent, now that I know them. There’s Frank Dent, Abel Jones, Nolan—”
“I’m sorry, Annie, but I know good men exist. I have no doubt your husband is one of them, but unless there’s a man out there who simply wants me to change my name in exchange for letting me lounge about and rest my hands, I’m not interested.”
Annie kept her eyes trained on hers.
If Annie was expecting her to recant, she’d be disappointed.
Finally turning, Annie went back to scrubbing the nightwear in her hands. “Seems as if your heart wasn’t just broken but smashed to bits.”
Going back to her work as well, Corinne stayed silent, allowing Annie to believe what she wished.
It wasn’t that her heart had been broken beyond repair; rather, she knew for certain she could never make a man happy.
She wouldn’t doom someone to being as disappointed as she’d been three times over.
Chapter Six
Setting buckets under the well pump, Nolan started to fill them and squinted at the wagon coming down the road. Did he have visitors, or was another newcomer roaming about looking for a place to claim?
After he hauled the water to the coop, the wagon was close enough he could make out Annie’s red hair. He waved to welcome his neighbors.
He knocked the dust out of his hat then walked over to meet them. “Ho! What brings you over today?”
Jacob only nodded as he pulled his horse to a stop. He jumped down and helped his wife to the ground.
Annie gave him a tremulous smile. With the way she held her hands to her stomach and took hesitant steps, it seemed as if she were a girl afraid to go up front and sing her first church solo more than a neighbor on a friendly visit.
And had Jacob just pushed her forward?
“Good morning, Mr. Key.”
Nolan took his hat back off. “Morning, Mrs. Hendrix.”
He also greeted Jacob, whose face was a touch frozen—except one cocked eyebrow, which twitched.
What were these two up to?
“I uh…” Annie inhaled sharply, exhaled just as forcefully, and then gave herself a nod before taking a more decisive step toward him. “We thought we’d come for a visit.”
“All right.” Normally he would’ve invited them into the house, but they were acting strange. “What’s the visit for?”
Jacob’s lips wriggled with what seemed to be a smile trying to get loose.
“Last night,” Annie began, “Jacob and I were talking about your situation.”
Oh, no—matchmaking. He’d expected Jacob to interrogate him at church every Sunday, but he’d not expected personal visits.
“And we think—”
Jacob cleared his throat.
Annie rolled her eyes and shook her head. “All right, I think—though Jacob doesn’t disagree—that we know who’d be the best woman to help keep your land.”
Nolan braced himself by leaning against the hitching post. Part of him wanted to stop this conversation, but if anyone might know who’d—
“We think you should consider Miss Stillwater.”
Guess they wouldn’t be much help after all. “I’m afraid you don’t realize how opposed to marrying she is.”
Both of Jacob’s brows shot up. “You mean you’ve already asked?”
“Well, no, but—sort of.” He tugged on his collar. “I asked in general, and she has no reason to reconsider her situation like I do.”
“Oh, I think she does.” Annie nodded decisively. “Especially if what you said to Jacob was true, that you don’t expect love.”
He’d told Jacob that, but hearing someone rule it out for him … well, what did it matter? He’d decided against marrying for love years ago. “What do you know of her situation?”
She shrugged. “Not everything, but enough. I know some men didn’t treat her right. More importantly, she said she’d only consider marrying if all she had to do was give up her name in exchange for not having to run the laundry anymore.”
That … that was exactly what he’d told the lawyer he was looking for. A woman who was willing to marry him for nothing more than an allowance to live on. “But she told me she’d never marry.”
“I believe what she meant is she isn’t interested in everything marriage entails. She’s worried about picking another man who’ll hurt her or leave her. We know you wouldn’t do that. We’d also recommend you not rule out falling in love, but if love never came, we think you two could work well together.”
With how pretty Corinne was, he could be in danger of falling in love, so he ought to marry her opposite. Someone who’d not be easy to fall for, like the widowed Mrs. Tate.
No, that wouldn’t work. Old might work, ugly might work, but Jacob was right that marrying someone who’d make him m
iserable wouldn’t work at all. Not only would people pity him for marrying someone so unsuited, he’d have to deal with all her old lady gossip.
Of course, he didn’t know much about Corinne. She certainly seemed to mind her own business, but what if her flaws were better hidden? She was a hard worker, yes, but she didn’t socialize much. Did anyone know her well?
“I’m grateful you two want to help…” His attention wandered down the road where another horse and conveyance cleared the rise. This one was a fancy buggy with what looked like three passengers. Who’d be driving out here in one of those?
“It wouldn’t hurt to ask Miss Stillwater.” Jacob grinned and wrapped an arm around Annie. “You never know how things will work out.”
He glanced at the two of them, but shook his head. He’d talked to Jacob just days after he’d married Annie when their life had taken an unexpected tumble. They may not have married for love, but they’d not expected to live as anything but husband and wife.
“I do thank you for your—” He blinked hard and swallowed. It couldn’t be…
He took a step to the left to look past Jacob, his chest constricting.
Annie and Jacob turned to look behind them, and Nolan took another step and tightened his jaw.
The massive shoulders, the elaborate muttonchops…
What was Matt doing here? Before Dad died, he’d written to let them know he wasn’t visiting this summer, and Nolan had praised God full out for such a blessing.
Slamming his hat back on, Nolan scanned the two women seated next to his cousin, one stiff and starched, encased in velvet finery, the other clothed in drab, coarse gray.
Jacob stepped beside him. “Is that…?”
“Who else spends that much time on his facial hair?” Nolan held in a curse—not that he had a habit of cursing, but if there was ever a time.
Nothing good could come from Matt being here.
“Hallo!” Matt called when he turned through the open gate. He lifted his tall felt hat and then slapped the reins harder to speed up the team he must have rented from the livery.
A dust cloud rolled in ahead of the buggy, but the bellow of dirt couldn’t be blamed for the dry condition of Nolan’s throat. He did not need this complication—he was supposed to have at least two and a half more months before he had to deal with his cousin.
Matt pulled on the reins with a flourish, whipped the straps around the hitching post beside Jacob’s wagon, and hopped down to the ground. He held up his hands, arms wide, as if he were a circus master about to thrill them with a spiel on all the extraordinary acts that were about to perform. “Good morning, everyone.”
Nolan didn’t even bother to conjure up a smile.
Matt’s, however, didn’t fade in the slightest. He turned back to the buggy and helped the finely dressed woman to the ground. She wore a riding suit that was the darkest red color Nolan had ever seen with gold braids ornamenting nearly every seam. Her hair was curled and piled beneath a matching hat, as if she’d prepared to go to a dance rather than on a drive through the empty countryside.
Without a glance at the other young woman scooting across the seat, Matt and the fancy lady marched arm in arm toward Nolan. Her eyes were narrowed as if she were unimpressed by what she was seeing as she scanned the land—and yet, the fine features of her face, the creamy texture of her skin, and the rosy hue in her high cheekbones kept her shrewd glare from stealing too much of her beauty.
“To what do I owe the honor of this—” unwanted was the word he wanted to spit out, but he swallowed it, “—unexpected visit?”
“Lilith, let me introduce you to my cousin, Nolan Key. And these two are…” He waved his hand dismissively at the Hendrixes. “Your names?”
How he wanted to smack the haughtiness right out of Matt.
Nolan stepped forward. “This is our former marshal, Jacob Hendrix, and his wife, Annie. They ranch to my north.”
“Right, and this is my fiancée, Miss Lilith Mortimer.” He patted her hand on his arm. “We’ve come so I can show her the property. She wants to see everything.”
A fiancée would explain why he’d chosen not to visit this summer.
“Congratulations on your engagement,” Nolan gritted, though he’d rather have called Matt out for why they’d really come up—to count the silverware.
“Lilith here couldn’t be convinced of the charms of this place back in Denver. Of course, it’s more rustic than we could ever live in permanently, but we have money enough to fix that. Though she seems to think I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Not hard to imagine, since Matt always weaseled his way into any conversation that seemed important whether or not he had actual knowledge of the subject. “I’m afraid—”
“Don’t worry about us redoing anything while you’re here. We’d not ruin your last weeks with renovation, but we do need to know what to purchase before we return.”
Annie’s and Jacob’s expressions were frozen, though Annie chanced a side glance at him.
Dandifying a ranch house was about the stupidest use of money Nolan could think of. If comfort and luxury were Matt’s first order of business, that did not bode well for the ranch continuing to prosper if he took over.
Nolan ungritted his teeth. “Things aren’t settled yet.”
“No, but you’re the one always complaining I don’t plan things out, so you should be happy about this.” He patted Nolan’s shoulder as if they were best buds.
“Mrs. Hendrix.” Nolan turned sharply toward Annie. “You once lived in a big city, correct? If you enjoy city life, would you find anything out here appealing?”
“Oh, uh…” She turned to Miss Mortimer and gave her a stiff smile. “I’m afraid ranching is nothing like what I knew growing up on the East Coast. Life wears you down out here, though hard work has its rewards.”
Nolan glared at her.
Annie shrugged and then turned back to Miss Mortimer. “You’ll find only a few fine ladies on big ranches living like those in the city. It’s a lot of work to keep a ranch going, so one often gives up the more refined aspects of life.”
“Which is why we ought to sell, Matthias.” Lilith’s voice was cultured, southern sounding even.
“Nonsense, if one has money, one doesn’t have to do that much work—that’s true anywhere. Let me give you a tour. You don’t mind, do you, Nolan?” Without waiting for an answer, Matt walked past him while sweeping his other arm out to show off the house. “The bones of the place has its charms. It’ll take nothing more than a new paint job, some gingerbread, a bigger porch, an indoor washroom, of course…”
Oh, why had his father not allowed him to forfeit the ranch to someone who’d be more concerned about the water access and the health of the herd than how the house appeared?
The woman in gray, sporting small round spectacles upon a pert nose and likely only a few years older than Miss Mortimer, came up beside them. “How cold does it get in winter?” She looked around, her eyes shrunk to half the normal size behind her lenses. “It seems too flat and the mountains too far away to block the wind.”
“It’s indeed cold.” He turned toward Matt and Lilith who were skirting the well pump and nearly shouted across the lawn. “It gets incredibly cold here in winter. It’s hard to keep warm from October to May.”
Matt shrugged and smiled back at him. “If the winters don’t suit, we can just summer here, as I’ve always done.”
This wasn’t a holiday home!
The two of them started toward the barn, and the woman in gray hustled after them.
“Don’t worry about what he says, dear.” Matt’s voice faded as they walked farther away. “We’ll fix everything that’s wrong with it, and you’ll be the envy of all the women in the county.”
Annie and Jacob stood with him in silence as his cousin herded the women into the barn.
It took all Nolan had not to go after them and order them out. Marrying Mrs. Tate couldn’t be all that bad if every
night he went to bed knowing Matt would never own this ranch.
Jacob cleared his throat. “As I said the other day, the most important thing about marrying a woman you barely know is to make sure she won’t make you miserable. Best indicator is if your worldviews match. If you agree on the major things and you’re patient, everything else will follow. Patience is key, though.” He smiled down at Annie. “Impatience only makes you agonize more while you wait for her to come around.”
Nolan couldn’t keep from shaking his head. “I don’t need anything beyond a legal way to keep him off my property.”
The house was large enough to be a boardinghouse. Perfect strangers, even those who hated each other, could live together in a boardinghouse without driving each other insane, right?
And if they found out they couldn’t stand each other, they could always “separate.” Who didn’t know of an estranged married couple living apart?
Surely once his cousin married and settled somewhere other than here, he’d not bother to check up on his marital happiness—which shouldn’t matter anyway. Dad hadn’t stipulated he be blissfully wed.
Other than Mrs. Tate and Miss Stillwater, the only other likely candidate was Miss McGill. But she was always husband chasing, looking for all the things girls dream about.
Miss Stillwater, however, was not.
He would ask Corinne.
His insides jittered at the thought of living with her for the rest of his life, which was unreasonable, considering she’d likely turn him down flatter than the day he hadn’t asked her to marry him.
Chapter Seven
Outside the laundry’s window, the steady, albeit irregular thump of footsteps passed by once again. She’d thought the pacer had been waiting on someone coming to town, but the stage had left ten minutes ago. Corinne sighed and dropped the garment she was washing. Her hands needed a break, anyway.
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