Cassandra (Bride Brigade Book 3)

by Caroline Clemmons

He grimaced and shook his head. “Not any more. Guess she’d romanticized living out here or thought I was made of money. Edith didn’t take to the isolation of ranch life. Wanted parties and such all the time. Flat up left and divorced me. Heard she took up with some fellow in Weatherford.”

  Cassandra was shocked to learn he’d been married. Even more shocking, he’d wed a woman stupid enough to divorce him.

  “Perhaps you’re better off. You need a loving woman who’ll stand by your side no matter what happens. Edith doesn’t sound like that kind of woman.”

  He stared out the window instead of meeting her gaze. “For a fact, but it sure stung at the time. I never was in love with her, mind you, but she was pretty and fun.” He turned toward her and his brown eyes held regret. “At least she was until she grew tired of me and the ranch. Then she was a shrew.”

  Was he sorry Edith had left or sorry he’d ever married her? Before she realized what she’d done, Cassandra laid her hand on his chest. “I’m sorry, Sam. That must have hurt even if you weren’t in love with her.”

  He clasped her arms and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re a sweetheart, Cassie. You sit down and I’ll get our lunch.”

  What possessed her to touch his person? What on earth possessed him to kiss her nose? She took out her handkerchief and brushed dust from the table. Apparently another thing cowboys didn’t use was dishtowels, although she spotted a broom in one corner.

  He returned and set the basket on the table. “Would you see to setting out our dinner while I water the horses? Um, if you need to refresh yourself, there’s a privy in back.”

  “Is there a way to wash my hands?”

  He grabbed the bucket. “I’ll bring in some water.”

  She hurried to the outhouse while he saw to the horses. Ugh, apparently cowboys didn’t care about the tidiness of their privy either. When she returned, he’d left a bucket of cold water. She washed her hands. Without a towel, she dried them on her petticoat for lack of a better solution.

  The picnic basket contained enough food for at least four people unless Sam was a hearty eater. Also included were two plates and cups with cutlery, a red-checked tablecloth, and two matching napkins. Thank goodness, Sam didn’t expect her to use dishes that had been on that shelf for who knew how long.

  Once she’d spread the tablecloth, she set out fried chicken, biscuits, and containers of butter, honey, cucumber pickles, spiced peaches, potato salad, green beans, and four of the tiny empanada pastries she had first eaten at Lydia’s. A large jar of lemonade looked tempting.

  When Sam came back in, she had everything in what she thought presented an appealing meal.

  He smiled in apparent approval. “Well, you’ve done us proud. Have to admit I’m hungry as a bear coming out of hibernation.”

  She chuckled. “You won’t leave hungry. Look at all the food.”

  “Martha and Lonnie Granger know how to feed people. They own the café. He cooks and she handles the waitressing.”

  Cassandra served the plates and handed him one heaped with food.

  He grinned. “This will get me started.”

  She laughed at him. “If you eat like this all the time, how do you stay in such good shape?” She could have bitten her tongue.

  “Glad you think I do. Secret is I work hard.” He met her gaze and winked. “That and the fact my daddy passed on that trait. Somehow folks in my family burn up the fuel before it turns to fat.”

  “That would be lovely.”

  “You have nothing to worry about, Cassie sweetheart. You’re pretty as a summer flower in a patch of weeds.”

  She couldn’t help giggling at his turn of phrase. “You’re one sweet talking cowboy. I’m not sure I believe you’re sincere.”

  He placed a hand on his heart. “But I am. The minute I saw you get off that stage, I was smitten. I couldn’t have told anyone what the other young women looked like. All I could see was you.”

  She waved her fork from side to side. “No more of that kind of talk. Tell me about your work.”

  “Cowboys work from can to can’t, meaning from before dawn to after dark unless we’re at the homestead. We rotate so we have time off every now and then but there’re always several of us watching the herd and the ranch house.”

  “Do you still have rustlers bothering your cows, I mean cattle?”

  “You bet. There’s always some trying for the easy way. A couple of our men are good trackers. We recover any cows not butchered before we find them.”

  “That sounds dangerous. I hope you’ll be careful.”

  “Always. I’m no green kid, sweetheart. Remember I’ve been doing this close to twelve years.”

  “Bullets don’t care about your experience. As I understand things, they’re uncaring who they kill.” He was awfully casual with the endearments. She kind of liked that he called her dear and sweetheart so she ignored the subject.

  “Now don’t you worry your pretty head about me, Cassie sweetheart. I have no intention of throwing caution out the door and taking stupid chances. Nosiree, I intend to live to a ripe old age and have grandchildren and maybe great-grandchildren to bounce on my knee.”

  She raised an eyebrow and appraised him. “How will you manage that while living in the bunkhouse?”

  He appeared surprised. “Didn’t I say there are houses for the married cowboys? Whether married or single, when they’re too old to work on the range, they’ll be pensioned off.”

  “Oh, so you’ll always have a place to live? That’s reassuring, since you must work hard.”

  “Ranching is difficult, but there are rewards, too. Being close to nature, bringing new life into the world, building something worth having.”

  “But you’re building that something for someone else.”

  “Now, Cassie, can’t every man own the ranch or there would be no cowboys to help with the running of it.”

  She wondered why he didn’t have more ambition and stake out his own ranch. “I guess you’re right, Sam. Just seems like a hard life for not much gain.”

  He met her gaze. “With the right marriage partner, this can be a wonderful life.”

  Sensing the heat of a blush creep across her face, she lowered her glance. “I didn’t think it possible, but we made a huge dent in all this food.”

  He pushed away from the table. “Reckon we’d better get on our way or Lydia will send the sheriff after me.”

  She rose and picked up her cup. “I think I should rinse off the dishes. Returning them dirty would be impolite.”

  “Cleaning them off would be nice, wouldn’t it? You repack and I’ll give them a quick swim.” He carried the dishes and cutlery to the dishpan.

  She carefully resealed the jars holding the food they’d shared. “I didn’t know cowboys did dish duty.” Using a napkin, she rewrapped the remaining chicken.

  He poured water over dishes. Using his fingers, he rubbed off food remains. “We do whatever’s needed. I even know how to sew on buttons and patch a shirt.”

  “I’m impressed.” She used a napkin to dry and replaced the dishes in the basket.

  Sam walked to the door and tossed out the water. “My mother made all her boys learn about laundry and cooking and sewing. I hated that at the time, but I’ve been grateful since I left home.

  “I wonder if Trenton knows how to sew on his own buttons? Since he was the youngest, I’m afraid we petted him. I don’t mean he’s unwilling to fend for himself, we just never made him other than helping with some of the chores.”

  “Are you ready, Cassie sweetheart?” A gentle expression on his face, he laid his hand on her upper arm.

  “Yes. The picnic was very nice.”

  “Before we go, there’s one other thing I have to do.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  And what a kiss he gave. Her knees turned to rubber and she would have sunk to the floor in a puddle if he hadn’t been holding her. Soft at first, he deepened the kiss before he raised his head.

>   “Sam, that… that was—”

  “Impertinent, I know. Don’t be mad at me. I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you.”

  “I’m not mad exactly….”

  She’d been going to say wonderful, but perhaps he didn’t need to know that. Not with her emotions wavering so desperately. Now that she knew exactly the kind of life she’d have with Sam, she had to concentrate on the banker.

  “Good. I don’t want you thinking I don’t respect you, because I do. I couldn’t help myself.” He picked up the remains of their picnic and carried them to the wagon.

  She followed him so he turned and helped her up onto the seat.

  “I have to make sure everything is the way we found it. I’ll be right back.” He returned to the cabin.

  She looked at her surroundings, appreciating the beauty of the landscape and the bright blue sky overhead. By the sun, she realized the time was later than she’d supposed. The hour’s travel back would put her at Lydia’s in time for supper and not worry Lydia or others.

  On the way to Tarnation, Sam regaled her with tales of scrapes he’d been in since settling here. She was certain he downplayed them for her benefit and tried to make himself a clown, but she saw through his plan. He was a real hero, a genuine man of the west.

  Chapter Four

  Sam smiled all the way to the hotel. He used the office to write a letter to Jeff Heathington. He’d met the man about six years ago when he’d bought a couple of thoroughbred horses from him.

  Dear Jeff,

  You won’t believe the coincidence that’s occurred. The young woman, Cassandra Bradford, you took in after her family’s death has arrived here in Tarnation. I understand her brother Trenton is still with you.

  I am quite smitten with her and hope to make her my wife. She has no idea the ranch is mine but thinks I’m merely one of the cowboys. I won’t tell Cassie any different until she agrees to marry me. If that happens—and I’m determined it will—I’ll want her brother to join us at the ranch. Thought I should let you know my plans.

  This spring’s horse sale went well and I expect the fall cattle sale to be even better. You and Millie should visit here sometime. I might make a rancher out of you.

  Your old pal,

  Sam Drummond

  Smiling, Sam sealed the envelope and took it to the mercantile to mail. With luck, Jeff would have it in a week. Amazing how rapidly correspondence reached its destination since the war.

  He debated going home but decided to stay in town. Their kiss had scorched his lips as well as heating other places in his body. Now he was more determined than ever to wed Cassie.

  Why hadn’t he asked her to dinner for tomorrow? He’d call on her first thing tomorrow and do just that. He preferred them being alone, but he wanted to be seen around town with her and give the other men the signal that she was his girl.

  As soon as he thought he’d waited late enough Thursday morning, he headed for Lydia’s home. Mrs. Greenberg opened the door.

  “Would you tell Miss Cassandra Bradford she has a caller?”

  “That I will. You wait on the settee in the parlor.” She left to go upstairs.

  His Cassie came down the stairs. Her face lit up when she saw him, offering him encouragement. To his way of thinking, they were as good as engaged.

  “Why, Sam, I would have thought you went back to the ranch.”

  “I stayed another day to take you to supper tonight.”

  Her eyes widened and her shoulders slumped. “Sorry, but I have another supper invitation for this evening. Perhaps some other day.”

  Shock hit him hard. Of course he’d expected other men in town to pursue her. Wasn’t she the most desirable of the young women Lydia brought here?

  Twirling his hat brim in his hands, he couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Guess I should have known you’d be popular. Do you mind telling me who you’ll be seeing tonight?”

  “Mr. Tucker. He came by Monday and asked me.”

  The news sent a knife to his heart. He and Tucker weren’t exactly friends. Not since Tucker had foreclosed on a small rancher near Sam’s spread. Even though the land was now Sam’s, the other rancher had been given a raw deal by the banker.

  He stood, feeling out of sorts. “Well, then I guess I’ll see you this weekend for the party. Save me a couple of dances, will you?”

  “I certainly will. I’m glad you’ll be there.”

  With a nod, he clapped his hat on his head as he hurried out the door. He should have booked every night from now until she said yes to his proposal. He was almost sorry he’d hidden the fact he was wealthy, but he couldn’t take a chance on not knowing whether she’d chosen him or his bank account. She was too important to him.

  ***

  After Sam left, Cassandra was at loose ends. She’d been sewing when he came, but now she wanted to get away and think. Was she wrong to want a life of comfort?

  On the other hand, Sam was the one man who made her heart sing. She couldn’t erase the memory of the bone-melting kiss they’d shared. She knew Sam was a good man, but he appeared to lack ambition and would be content to be a cowboy forever and live in a one room cabin. She couldn’t reconcile his personality with the lack of a goal.

  She ran upstairs and grabbed her purse and set out for a walk. When she was even with the mercantile, she stopped in to visit with Josephine who was working there now.

  Michael Buchanan, the owner, smiled when she entered. “Josephine, why don’t you take off long enough to visit with your friend?”

  The two women walked up and down the aisles. Cassandra spotted some lovely lace, but set the spool back down.

  “Would you like some of that? I just put it out, so you’ll have first choice.”

  “I don’t think so today, Josephine, but I’ll keep it in mind.” She didn’t want anyone to know she was nearly destitute. The few coins she had left from her wages would have to last until she married. Who knew how long that might be?

  “You’ve had a busy week with suitors. Made up your mind yet?”

  “I’m so torn, Josephine. One man makes my knees go weak and the other meets my criteria for a husband.”

  “Oh, no, Cassandra. Don’t settle for anything but love. A lifetime is an awfully long time to only be ‘in like’ with the man you marry.”

  Cassandra trailed a finger along the shelf as she ambled along the aisle. “Arranged marriages have couples starting off as virtual strangers and many are quite successful.”

  “And many are miserable. Would you want to… you know, with someone you don’t love?”

  “No, but I’m not sure I’m that enthused about it at all.” Liar, she called herself. The memory of being in Sam’s arms still heated her body.

  Josephine giggled. “You may change your mind.”

  Cassandra glanced pointedly at the store’s owner then back to her friend. “Have you?”

  The other woman’s face sobered. “We were talking about you, not me. I think you’d be making a mistake to wed for anything but love.”

  “I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind, but I’m not making any promises.” She knew her friend had been poor too, so having her say to go for love made an impact.

  Later that day, Cassandra dressed carefully for her evening out with Bart Tucker. After hearing several girls mention the banker, she intended to stake her claim tonight. She’d flirt and tease as she’d seen her former employer’s daughter, Arabella Heathington, do. Certainly the coquettishness had worked for Arabella.

  She chose a dark green silk dress trimmed with velvet, silk, and fringe. The walking skirt would be perfect for strolling to supper this evening. The fringe swayed when she walked and she hoped that added an entrancing flair. Forming curls in her hair took longer than she’d planned, but she was ready when Angeline came up to tell her Mr. Tucker had arrived.

  With her handkerchief tucked inside her sleeve, she descended the stairs. His awed reaction when he saw her made her smile. He stood an
d walked to meet her at the foot of the stairs.

  “My dear Miss Bradford, you look too lovely for words.” He took her hand and placed it on his arm.

  “Thank you, Mr. Tucker. I did try to look special tonight.”

  Obviously pleased, he led her down the steps. “Do you mind a stroll?”

  She fluttered her eyes with the hint of a smile in the way Arabella used to. “On the contrary, I’ve been looking forward to walking to the café. The weather is so lovely, isn’t it?”

  She had only to give him a little encouragement and he carried on the conversation. Along the way, he nodded at or greeted people they met.

  He warned her about the harsh winters and hot summers. “Of course, my home is adequately heated for winter and has excellent windows that catch the summer breeze.”

  At the restaurant, they were shown to a table in the back corner by a woman Cassandra thought must be Martha.

  Bart held her chair. “I requested this table be saved for us. So much more privacy here than near the front.”

  “How considerate you are, Mr. Tucker.” She wasn’t putting on airs. He was considerate and a gentleman.

  “I’m glad you think so, Miss Bradford. I do hope we can begin calling one another by our Christian names. Please call me Bart.”

  She lowered her eyes decorously. “I suppose you may call me Cassandra.”

  Martha chose that moment to stop by their table.

  Bart said, “We’ll each have the roast beef and peach pie for dessert.”

  After Martha had moved on, Cassandra couldn’t stop herself. “If we go to dinner again, Bart, I’m not an invalid and am perfectly capable of ordering for myself.”

  He appeared shocked. “But I know what’s best here. Besides, I intend to take very good care of you, my dear.”

  My dear, my eye. She was not a scatterbrained woman too stupid to choose her own food. Rather than make an issue of it, she let the subject drop as she searched for a topic of conversation. She was spared when their meal arrived.

  They dug into the roast beef, mashed potatoes covered in gravy, with green beans and rolls.

  He smiled triumphantly. “Delicious, isn’t it?”