by Jodi Thomas
Bethanie shook her head. She was unable to express how last night had been the most wonderful night of her life. Even now, as she stood looking up into his laughing dark eyes, she warmed to the memory of his touch.
Josh broke into her thoughts. “I’ll have to get used to a quiet woman.” He kissed her once more, then pulled her toward the horses. “I can’t wait for you to see the ranch. My brother Ben and I started it before the war and he ran it while I was away. I’ve never thought of settling down…until lately.” He winked as he said the last words.
Josh continued to talk about the ranch and his brother while they ate the last few strips of jerky. “Ben couldn’t fight.” His tone grew sad. “I guess I’d better tell you before we reach the ranch. He had an accident when he was seventeen, the spring before Dad died. Ben walked in on a bank robbery. He jumped on his horse to go after one of the robbers. A stray shot hit his horse and Ben took a bad fall. Dad never allowed Ben to feel sorry for himself or any of us to pamper him. He made Ben do everything alone from the first.” Josh swung into the saddle and pulled his hat tight. “You’ll understand when you meet him later today. We’d better ride. We’re getting a late start.”
Bethanie climbed into the saddle. “I’m sorry, I overslept.”
“You didn’t get much rest last night,” Josh laughed. He looked younger and happier than he had yesterday. The bruise over his cheek showed as a reminder of the Indian fight, but the light of his eyes spoke of last night’s loving.
Josh turned to glance in the direction of the cave. “I hate to leave this place. I’ll never forget it.” He reached to touch Bethanie’s hand. “I don’t want to hurry you, but I love you and plan on spending years telling you so.”
Bethanie’s cheeks reddened. In a few hours her life had taken a wide turn. As she rode beside Josh, she thought how bright her future looked. It was like a fairy tale almost too wonderful to be true.
Josh led Bethanie across open country at a pace meant only for the sturdy. They saw no other humans, only occasional burned dugouts which loomed as ghostly reminders of battles fought and lost. “We’re riding the border of the frontier now, the edge of civilization,” Josh said more to himself than to her. He seemed to need the reassurance of conversation as they neared the charred hulls of homes.
“Before the war, my uncle’s family settled here. He had been with Sam Houston at San Jacinto when Santa Anna was captured. After Texas gained independence, my aunt and uncle were one of the many families who pushed ranching into this Indian country.” He seemed unable to tear his eyes from one skeleton of a home. Bethanie didn’t have to ask what had happened in this spot years ago.
“Did anyone survive?” She moved closer to him, wishing she could reach out and hold him.
Josh shook his head. “They were the last of my kin, except for Ben. In the early days a scant line of Federal forts offered them some protection. But with Texas’s secession the Federal troops were pulled out, and the ranches shrank back like withered hands of an old man. We tried to combat the Indians on our own, as Governor Lubbock helped organize the Texas Rangers. We had some success, but the land was too vast for a tiny army of volunteers to cover.”
Josh found talking as comfortable as Bethanie found silence. “Economically, Texas suffered less than any other Confederate state due to the war. Yet, last year when it ended, folks estimated cattle outnumbered people six to one. Our ranch lies northeast of San Antonio along this frontier edge. But we’ve taken care not to be caught off guard. Ben swears what happened to my uncle’s family will never happen to the Weston Ranch. You should be safe once we reach there.”
Bethanie smiled. “I’ll be with you.”
Josh winked, the sadness leaving his face. “You bet. Between the two of us, we’re an unbeatable team.” He kicked his horse into a swift pace, and Bethanie joined him.
The sun marked late afternoon as the two weary travelers climbed a ridge and caught sight of the Weston Ranch. Bethanie was shocked at the size of the main house. In a country where most ranches were little more than two room dugouts, this large one-story home looked enormous. The main buildings were nestled beneath a jagged rock formation protecting them from the north wind. Nature’s high stone wall also provided a natural defense on three sides from Indian attack. This was why Josh was so sure the Weston Ranch was safe. About fifty feet from the main house stood the bunkhouse designed with a long porch running its length. A corral and large barn lay just to the left of the bunkhouse. Ancient cottonwood trees backed the buildings as if hugging them close in the protective nest of the cliffs above.
“There she is.” Josh pointed proudly toward the ranch. “Look over behind the house. See those trees? Wait’ll you see the hidden falls over by the cliff’s edge. The only way to get there is a winding path from the back of the main house.” As he spoke, they heard the faraway clang of a dinner bell. “Come on!” he shouted. “They’ve spotted us. I’ll race you in.”
They both laughed like children racing the tardy bell and kicked their horses into action. Bethanie loved the feel of the wind as she rode. She had dearly missed riding during these past six months while in San Antonio. She jerked her hat off and let her hair fly free behind her. The wind in her face warmed her as she raced to equal Josh’s skill.
As they grew closer Bethanie watched people pouring out from both buildings to welcome their arrival. She felt a strong sense of coming home as she neared the ranch. This was the house she had pictured as a child. Its open porch and cool shade seemed to invite Bethanie into its folds like a mother hen opens her wings to cover her chicks. The men were waving and shouting Josh’s name amid hoots and yells. Josh was ahead of her by three lengths as they reached the main house.
Breathless, Bethanie pulled her horse up beside Josh. He was already tying his mount to one of the porch supports. The long white-painted porch skirted out from the house, reminding her of the southern homes she’d passed when coming to Texas. The windows were long and slender and two huge elms shaded half the front, while the other side sported a long wooden incline painted the same white as the porch.
Bethanie slung her leg over the saddle horn and froze as she caught sight of the man in the ranch house doorway. His features were almost identical to Josh’s. His black hair was brushed lightly with gray at the temples and his dark eyes watched with a mixture of joy and sadness as Josh neared. His beard was trimmed short along his strong jawline, and his dark shirt made his skin seem pale. Bethanie couldn’t take her eyes from this man, for unlike his brother, he was sitting in a wheelchair. His powerful shoulders seemed mismatched with his thin, lifeless legs. He smiled with only his lips as he rolled his chair wheels over the threshold.
“Ben!” Josh shouted as he grabbed his brother’s hand. The two men looked at each other with the love and respect only brothers share. There was a closeness between them born of blood and years of understanding.
Josh turned to Bethanie. “Bethanie, I’d like you to meet my older brother, Ben Weston.” There was a pride in his tone as he introduced his only kin.
Bethanie smiled and stepped forward, trying to pull her hair into some semblance of order. She suddenly wished she had combed it before meeting Ben. He was Josh’s family, and she wanted to make a good first impression.
The effect she feared materialized in Ben’s stern look. “Welcome to the Weston Ranch. Can’t say I think much of women dressin’ as men, but you ride better than most of the hands on this place.” There was an unmistakable coldness in his.voice that frosted the air between them. Bethanie’s shyness turned to glacial proportions.
“I asked her to dress like that to get.through the open country.” Josh dismissed Ben’s gruff tone lightly as his vision caught sight of a woman stepping from the house to join them.
Bethanie reddened under Ben’s stern gaze. She watched his right eyebrow lift as he studied her like a king watching a peasant from his throne. Any pity she might have initially felt for him dried up under his critical eye.
>
“Bethanie,” Josh said. “This is Ruth. She’s been taking care of Ben and me for half my life.”
Bethanie smiled at-the tall, willowy woman before her. Ruth nodded with respect before lowering her head. Her long brown hair was braided in a single plait down her back, and her dark brown skin hinted of Indian blood. Her face was wrinkled by a blend of weather and age. Bethanie tried to sound friendly, but with little success. “I’m happy to meet you.”
Ruth rubbed her hands on a spotlessly clean apron. “I’ll set two more places.” She looked at Ben for affirmation. The nod was so slight Bethanie wasn’t even sure she saw it.
As Ruth took a step backward into the house, everyone on the porch suddenly heard Allison’s shrill scream. “Bethanie!” The blond girl yelled as she ran through the crowd on the porch and threw her arms around Bethanie. “I was so worried about you,” her tiny cousin whimpered. “We were so afraid you might be dead.”
Allison burst into uncontrollable tears. Her usually perfect dress was in disorder. She reminded Bethanie of a flowery houseplant left out in the weather. “Mama’s dead,” she cried over and over between sobs.
Bethanie patted her cousin’s shoulder and looked over to Josh. “I’ll take her inside,” she said. Ben motioned with a frustrated wave of his hand for Ruth to assist.
The women moved into the house leaving the men talking. Ruth walked briskly through a huge main room to the hall, which opened into what looked like three bedrooms. The housekeeper’s voice was cold and formal. “I put Miss Allison in Josh’s bedroom. He can sleep in the bunkhouse.” Ruth’s face was emotionless, resembling brown paper wadded up, then spread smooth a hundred times. Bethanie wasn’t so sure about her age, for her walk and voice told of a woman under forty.
“I’d like some tea, please,” Allison whimpered through her sniffles as she collapsed onto the bed.
Bethanie moaned slightly. The angels must have blessed Allison with being eternally oblivious to anyone’s needs except her own. The fact that Ruth must have a hundred things to attend to with houseguests, or with Bethanie just having ridden in, never crossed the fairhaired girl’s mind.
“I’ll make the tea,” Bethanie answered, moving to the door and trying to brush some of the trail dust off her clothes.
“No, I’ll get it,” Ruth answered curtly. “You stay with her. She’s been crying ever since she arrived last night.”
“Thank you.” Bethanie accepted Ruth’s offer and moved to the basin. She couldn’t really blame Ruth for her coldness toward them. After all, who would want a house full of strangers to cook for, but then Allison had just lost her mother and needed kindness, not impatience.
“Oh, Bethanie.” Allison pouted from her bed. “This is the most dreadful place, and Mike isn’t even here to comfort me. That man in the wheelchair sent him off within an hour of our arrival.”
“I’ll be here with you,” Bethanie said as she looked around the rather drab room. This house was large with wide halls and doors. Bethanie noticed the floors were hardwood and tile with no rugs. A house built for a wheelchair, she thought. If this were Josh’s room, it certainly didn’t reflect his personality. She had seen more decorating put into hotel rooms. The walls were white with only one small bookshelf mounted on one. The bed was full size, but the covers looked like they were blue army issue. The bedroom windows were high, and Bethanie could see the shadow of bars outside them. More protection from the Indians, no doubt. Josh must spend very little time here, for she couldn’t see one thing marking this room as his.
An hour later, Bethanie comforted Allison and tucked her in for a nap. She stepped silently out into the main living area. She could never remember seeing a room so large in a home. It reminded her of a small hotel lobby she’d seen once. Ben sat at a huge oak desk in one corner. Books lined the walls on either side of him. A large couch and several chairs were grouped around a fireplace, with one space left for a wheelchair. The walls were a colorful blend of Mexican and Indian art designed to please masculine taste.
“Is that woman finally quiet?” Ben asked without any other greeting. His whole face seemed to wrinkle into a frown.
“Yes,” Bethanie answered, and stepped closer. This man wasn’t going to make it easy on her. “Where are Father Mike and Dusty?” She had to think of something to say; they couldn’t just stare at each other until someone else came into the room.
“Father Mike?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “Oh, they left with most of the men to help with the roundup. On top of the Indians, we’ve been having trouble with cattle rustlers and northern carpetbaggers trying to swindle us ‘dumb southerners’ out of every inch of land.” He laughed a short, deep laugh that sounded more like a cough. “We have more plagues than Moses.”
When Ben looked up at Bethanie, she had the distinct feeling he regarded her as just another problem. He looked her straight in the eye as if sizing her up. “Mike said he’d stop by and wire Allison’s father about his wife’s death.” He watched her closely. “You’re not the whiney type, are you.” His last sentence was a statement, not a question.
Bethanie thought she heard a note of respect in his voice. He was a man who must have had a great deal of pain in his life. She wanted to tell him she understood how lonely it must be for him, but instinct told her he wanted no pity.
Josh appeared at the open front door, relieving Bethanie of any need to respond. “I see you’re getting to know Ben.” He smiled. “We’ve got some big problems with the roundup. I’m riding over to help. Those longhorns are plum wild after running free for the past few years.” His eyes met Bethanie’s, and she saw them darken slightly. “Wanta come along? We can reach the camp before dark.”
“Yes,” Bethanie answered, thankful not to be left with Ben and Allison.
“Now, hold on, Josh.” Ben shouted as if all in the room were slightly hard of hearing. “You’re not taking a woman out there, even one that looks like a boy.” He pointed one long finger at his younger brother.
“But Bethanie can ride,” Josh argued, touching her shoulder lightly.
Ben shook his head, “What about Indians? Out in the open you’ll have all you can handle watching cattle. You can’t keep an eye on her, too. If she’s here, you know I’d fight to the death before I’d let Indians take this place.”
“Bethanie’s a good shot.” Josh’s voice sounded less sure of his logic. Bethanie knew he was thinking of the Indians they had encountered only two days ago.
Ben slammed his pen down on the desk as if to end the discussion. “Yes, but she’s not a man. Women don’t belong some places, not with thieving rustlers around. Besides, you’re not leaving me alone with that whimpering girl in yonder.” He nodded in the direction of Allison’s door.
Josh laughed. “He’s right, Bethanie. You’d better stay. Besides, you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in days. I know you could use the rest.”
“But…” Bethanie began. She felt like Daniel left with the lions.
Josh smiled lovingly at her as he pulled her out the door and onto the porch. “I’ll be back in a few days, a week at the most. You and Ben will get along great—neither of you ever wasted a word.” He kissed her forehead.
Bethanie folded into his embrace as he pulled her out of sight of Ben’s window. His kiss was warm and loving, reminding her of a few hours ago in the cave. “I’ll be back soon, I swear,” he whispered with a promise in his smoky brown eyes.
Ten minutes later, Bethanie blinked away a tear as she watched Josh from the dining-room window. He swung into his saddle and smiled back at her. Touching his hat in a silent salute, he rode away. The urge to bolt from the house and run after him boiled within her. She wanted to touch his face, to hold him tight, just once more. A few days would be an eternity without his smile, a lifetime without his touch. But Bethanie held herself fast. She’d waited a long time for the joy of loving him; she could wait a few more days.
Bethanie straightened slightly, aware that Ben could easily see into the
dining area from where his desk sat. There was much to do. She had to take care of Allison in her time of grief. Part of her wanted to tell the world about her love for Josh, but she knew now was not the right time. She turned to face Ben and found him staring at her with cold, dark eyes.
Ben rubbed his forehead with his first finger and thumb. “Have you nothing else to wear?” he frowned.
“No,” Bethanie answered simply.
“Ruth,” Ben bellowed in the direction of the kitchen. The housekeeper appeared at the door before Ben’s voice quit echoing around the room. “Put Beth in Mother’s room,” he ordered. Then to Bethanie, he added, “My mother died several years ago, but we left her room pretty much the same as it was.”
Ruth eyed Bethanie with open hostility. “She can sleep in with Miss Allison. No use opening up that room.”
“No,” Ben stated, not bothering to explain his logic to Ruth.
Bethanie tried to ease the tension. “I don’t mind sharing a…”
Ben’s voice made both women jump. “No!” he repeated.
Bethanie knew the subject was closed. How she hated men who thought their word law. But she had to get through the next few days. Maybe she could at least make friends with Ruth, and pride would never allow Bethanie to be waited on. “I want to help out while I’m here.” She tried to smile at the cold woman.
“That’s more than Miss Allison offered,” Ruth snapped, an ounce of harshness leaving her voice. “I’ve been waiting on her all day.”
“I’ll do that, plus I can cook fairly well.” Bethanie added, “If you’ll allow me?”
“Good,” Ben stated. “Ruth can use some help around here. I never could abide helpless women like that brat in there.”
As if on cue, Allison yelled for Bethanie.
The next few days passed in a pleasant routine of housework. Ruth never talked to Bethanie, except to give orders, but Bethanie enjoyed the work, thankful to have her hands busy while her mind was filled with thoughts of Josh. Ruth liked to cook breakfast alone, but accepted help with all the other chores. She explained that she couldn’t face anyone until she was wide awake, not even a helper. Allison spent her time sleeping, moping around the house, and taking all her meals in bed. She avoided Ben after a few encounters, referring to him as a dragon on wheels.