McKinnon's Bride (Willow Grove, Texas Series Book 1)

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McKinnon's Bride (Willow Grove, Texas Series Book 1) Page 2

by Sharon Gillenwater


  Drawing Mischief to a halt in front of the corral, he dismounted and opened the wide wooden gate. He waited patiently while the animal moseyed on inside, then he shut the gate. When his horse nickered softly, Cade looked over his shoulder to see an old mare stepping out of the barn. She answered the greeting and placidly watched as they walked toward her.

  Cade rubbed the side of her neck, chuckling as Mischief peered around him to inspect the newcomer. “Don’t mind this ol’ boy. He won’t give you any trouble. Where did you come from?”

  “Belongs to Quintin Webb’s sister.” Asa Noble, wagon boss of the McKinnon Ranch, eased his stocky frame over the fence and dropped to the ground, crossing the soft dirt inside the corral with a tired stride.

  Cade looked at him in surprise. “Jessie?”

  Asa nodded. “Her and the kids pulled in about four hours ago.”

  “So she finally left that no-account husband of hers.”

  Quintin had confided that his brother-in-law was a drunk, a cheat, and a liar. He suspected he was a womanizer as well. Quint had tried for years to get her to leave him, but she was a woman who believed in keeping her word—especially a vow made before God—even if her husband didn’t.

  “No. The little girl said he got killed. At first she couldn’t remember how. Later she said he had some kind of accident. A tree fell on him or somethin’.”

  More likely shot for cheating at cards.

  “Little Ellie is quite a talker. Pretty as a speckled pup, too. Tagged around after me for a spell, askin’ all kinds of questions about cows and horses. Provided a bit more information.”

  “Such as?” Cade unsaddled Mischief, carrying his gear to the tack room.

  Asa followed with the bridle. “That she’s four, but will be five before long. Her brother, Brad, is nine, and her mama is old.” He smiled ruefully. “But not as old as me.”

  Cade set the saddle and blanket on the stand as Asa hung up the bridle. He scooped up a bucket of oats before they went back outside.

  “Didn’t seem like her pa being dead bothered her none,” said Asa. “Guess she’s too little to really understand. The boy, now, he’s another matter. Hardly said a word. Just watched me like a hawk around his sister. He did say that Miz Monroe had planned on Quintin helpin’ her get settled some place. Reckon he didn’t know they were comin’.”

  “Probably not.” If he had, he would still be at the ranch. Not off trying to join a band of rustlers and help capture them. Neither Cade nor the sheriff had heard from him in the three weeks since he left. Hopefully, Quint was just being extra cautious, but they were worried about him.

  The outlaws had almost killed an old friend of Quintin’s a week before he left, and he was bent on revenge. The sheriff convinced him that capturing the gang and stopping them before they actually murdered someone was the best retribution. Cade thought the plan was too risky, but they hadn’t been able to come up with anything better. So they staged a fight, and he made a big show of firing Quint to lend credibility to his reasons for joining the rustlers.

  In the corral, Cade poured the oats in a wooden trough and stepped over to the old mare while Mischief rolled in the dirt, soaking up the sweat from his run. The mare shifted a couple of steps, her joints creaking when she moved. Cade ran his hand along her bony shoulder. She was well cared for, but certainly not overfed. She reminded him of a fragile, elderly woman. “This lady got a name?”

  “Yep. Valentine. Ellie said they’d had her as long as she could remember.” Asa smiled, looking at the horse with respect. “Probably as long as her mama can remember, too. Reckon she just about used herself up gettin’ here.”

  “Love and loyalty pulled that wagon, not strength.”

  Asa nodded. “She couldn’t have gone much farther.”

  Cade agreed. “Any sign of Hercules?” He’d bought a prized Hereford bull, hoping to improve his herd, but the animal didn’t appreciate being fenced in. He wanted to roam the range like the Longhorns and choose his own ladies. Unfortunately, he hadn’t limited his harem to cows bearing the McKinnon Ranch brand.

  “Picked up his trail near the canyons, but lost it again in the rocks.”

  “He’s goin’ to wind up on the supper table.”

  Asa laughed, pulling off his hat and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. “That’d be a mighty high-priced barbecue, boss.”

  Cade grimaced. “Too high. And that ornery bull knows it. I’ll go with you tomorrow. See you in the morning.”

  “You may change your mind.” Asa glanced toward the ranch house.

  “Why?”

  “I wandered up to the house with the young ’uns. Thought I’d take me a look-see at their mama.”

  “You would.”

  “In this country, a man has to take an opportunity when it comes along.”

  True. Single women were far and few between. “And?”

  “It was worth the walk.” Asa grinned as he started toward the gate. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Mighty fine lookin’ female, even if I did just peek through the window.” He turned around, walking backward. “If you take a hankerin’ for her, you’d better stake your claim early.”

  Quint would have Cade’s hide if he let anyone bother his sister. “Stay away from her. Tell the other men to do the same.”

  Asa glared at him. “You take all the fun out of life.”

  “Start actin’ your age.”

  “I am actin’ my age—all thirty-seven years of it. If I’m goin’ to settle down with a wife, I’d better do it before I’m too stove up to enjoy it. You looked in the mirror lately, Cade? You ain’t no young buck anymore yourself.”

  “I’m younger than you.” By a whole two years, as if that meant much. He followed Asa out the corral gate. Cade wasn’t about to admit that one reason he worked as hard as he did was so he could sleep at night. He often stayed awake half the night, doing paperwork, reading, or just as likely, pacing the floor. The loneliness grew deeper with every passing year.

  He stopped by the buggy shed to see if Jessie’s wagon was as old as the horse. It was. Probably older. Bailing wire held the back end to the sides, and the seat tilted to the left. One wheel was slightly warped and another leaned at an odd angle, ready to break if it hit a rock just right. A homemade, quilted pad covered the seat, but it was threadbare in places.

  He lifted the heavy tarp covering the back and looked over Jessie Monroe’s worldly goods, at least the ones she’d been able to bring with her. Cooking utensils, three bedrolls and pillows, a laundry tub, a couple of water buckets, several canteens, a small trunk, and boxes of dishes, linens, and other household items along with a rocking chair. And one old but clean shotgun.

  It wasn’t much. The way things were piled in the boxes gave him the impression that they’d left in a big hurry. He frowned at the almost empty box of foodstuff. A couple of pieces of jerky and maybe enough beans for one meal—if they had small appetites.

  Cade tucked the tarp back into place and headed for the house, sick at the thought of all the things that could have happened to someone so poorly equipped. Bad enough if it had been a man, but a woman traveling alone that way was unthinkable. Often days passed without anyone going along the main road. In places, it was a stretch to even call it a road. They could have been stranded without enough food or water, possibly even have died. The woman had to be stupid or desperate. Considering how Quintin bragged on his sister, she wasn’t stupid.

  Cade quietly walked up the back steps and stopped by the kitchen window, looking in. The children were sprawled on the floor, playing a game of checkers.

  He let his gaze drift to the woman bending over the stove, taking a pan of cookies from the oven. Jessie Monroe was slim, and if the loose fit of her dress was any indication, she’d lost weight since it was made. Probably lost it on the trip.

  Opening the door, he stepped into the room as she turned toward him and set the pan on a rack on the table. For a few seconds Cade couldn’t move, then he pushed th
e door closed behind him, forcing himself not to stare. But he wanted to. Lord have mercy, how he wanted to.

  Her medium brown hair was coiled into a thick bun at the nape of her neck. A few little wispy curls had come loose, framing her face. He had the urge to slowly remove the pins one by one and comb his fingers through the shiny strands until they fell across her shoulders.

  Her eyes were the same deep gray as a thundercloud, and for an instant, as her gaze met his, just as turbulent. Did he see attraction in their depths? Or did he only wish for it? Her skin was smooth and lightly tanned, her cheeks slightly flushed from the warmth of the stove. Under his intense gaze, her color deepened. Regret nudged him for embarrassing her, and he looked away.

  Cade pulled off his hat and hooked it on a peg by the door before looking back at her. He nodded politely and smiled. “Welcome to McKinnon Ranch, Mrs. Monroe.”

  She nervously wiped her hands on her apron. “Thank you.”

  The fragrance of the spicy cookies lingered in the room, and his stomach rumbled. “Those smell mighty good.”

  “They’re oatmeal raisin. I hope you like them.”

  “One of my favorites.” He didn’t mention that he liked just about every kind of cookie he’d ever tried.

  Jessie cleared her throat. “Your brother said we could spend the night and that you wouldn’t mind providing the food if I cooked.”

  “I think I got the best part of that bargain.” Cade grinned. “And after I’ve eaten, I suspect I’ll appreciate it even more.”

  Brad moved to stand slightly in front of his mother, his stance tense, protective. The boy watched him closely, his expression guarded.

  Cade crossed the room and held out his hand to him. “Cade McKinnon.”

  The boy hesitated, then shook his hand. “Brad Monroe.”

  He had a good firm handshake. Cade liked that. “Pleased to meet you.”

  He looked down at the little girl, thinking she was probably the most beautiful child he had ever seen. He squatted in front of her so his face was level with hers. “What’s your name?”

  “Ellen, but everybody calls me Ellie.” A sparkle lit her large brown eyes and when she smiled, two dimples appeared in her rosy cheeks.

  Cade’s heart melted into a big puddle. “A pretty name for a mighty pretty lady.”

  She giggled. “I’m not a lady. But Mama says I have to wear my company manners.”

  He heard Jessie take a soft, quick breath. He looked up and winked at her, then turned back to her daughter. “They’re very nice manners.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cade’s stomach growled, and Ellie giggled again. “Your tummy’s noisy.”

  “Sure is. It’s so empty, my belly-button’s rubbin’ a blister on my backbone.”

  She laughed, wiggling a little in the process. “You’d better fill it up. Mama fixed a real good supper. We ain’t had anything so good in a long time.”

  “Haven’t, honey,” Jessie corrected softly.

  Ellie shrugged. “Well, it sure was good to eat something besides beans.”

  Cade chuckled as he stood.

  Jessie glanced at her children. “I didn’t know when you’d be here, so I had it ready about an hour ago. I hope you don’t mind that we went ahead.”

  “Not a bit. I was later than usual. And it’s not good to make hungry kids wait.”

  “I kept everything warm for you. I’ll set it on the table while you wash up. Would you like coffee?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Black.” He turned to the wash stand by the back door and rolled up his sleeves. Pouring water from the pitcher into the porcelain basin, he washed his hands and face. As he dried his face, he glanced in the foot square mirror that hung at eye level. Brad asked Jessie if she wanted him to pour the coffee. Thanking him, she smiled at her son, her whole face lighting up. Cade was surprised and a little embarrassed by how much he wanted her to smile at him that way.

  Drying his hands, he closed his eyes and listened to the comforting, homey sounds around him—the light click of Jessie’s footsteps on the wooden floor, the muffled thumps as she took pans from the warming oven, and Ellie’s crow of delight when she captured one of Brad’s checkers while he was busy helping his mother.

  Wondering why he had never noticed the soft swish of a skirt and petticoats as a woman moved around a kitchen, he opened his eyes and hung the towel on the wash stand. Turning, he watched her go about putting his supper on the table. She worked quickly, but every movement was controlled to avoid noise.

  His former housekeeper had been a quick worker, too, but she hadn’t cared how much racket she made. Whenever he was home, she had craved conversation to alleviate the boredom of living miles from the nearest neighbors.

  He stood still a moment longer, yearning sweeping through him. If simply looking at her stirred such intense feelings, how would it be to touch her? Feeling a little rattled, he decided he’d better wear his company manners, too.

  Walking across the room to the table, he pulled out the chair opposite his, pausing behind it. “Mrs. Monroe, why don’t you come rest a spell. From the looks of this meal, you’ve been working for quite a while.”

  He moved around the table, waiting until Jessie sat down before he took his seat. “Asa said your husband had been killed. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  She murmured her thanks, not meeting his gaze.

  He figured she didn’t want to talk about it in front of the children. His mouth watered as he buttered a light-as-feather biscuit. He took a bite and almost groaned with pleasure. “Did y’all come all the way by yourselves?”

  “Yes.” The slight lifting of her chin told him she didn’t want to hear how foolhardy she had been.

  He frowned, tempering his words. “Dangerous.” Especially for a woman as pretty as her.

  She sighed. “Yes, it was. But we couldn’t stay in Riverbend any longer.” For a moment her thoughts seemed to drift, and pain filled her eyes.

  “I understand.” But he didn’t, not completely. That brief expression and something in her tone indicated she’d had other reasons besides her husband’s death to leave East Texas. He ate a bite of ham hash, savoring the touch of onion and the crispy brown crust on the diced potatoes. “This is real tasty, ma’am. And the biscuits are the best I’ve ever eaten.”

  Jessie smiled, meeting his gaze. “Thank you.”

  Cade stared, a forkful of hash half-way to his mouth. Her face glowed softly as delicate color bloomed in her cheeks, like the mountain pinks that covered a rocky slope in late summer. Her eyes were no longer dark like a storm-tossed sky but had lightened to a pale gray with a hint of green. Would her eyes be light and joyful when he kissed her, or would they grow dark with passion?

  He came to his senses and poked the food in his mouth, chewing, but barely tasting it. Unsettled, he focused his attention on his plate. When he kissed her. Not if. He’d never experienced such a strong reaction to a woman.

  Lost in thought, he ate half a plate of food before he realized he was being rude. He looked up. Shoulders stooped in weariness, she methodically folded a dishtowel into smaller and smaller squares. She had it down to six inches and seemed determined to make it three. Cade felt like a heel. She had to be bone-tired and worrying herself sick, not only about Quint, but also wondering how she would provide for her family. And here he sat, thinking about things far less noble.

  He laid the fork on the plate and relaxed against the back of the chair. “Mrs. Monroe, I expect you’re probably anxious to find Quintin, but you and your family need a good rest. Why don’t you stay here for a while, and I’ll see if I can track him down.”

  Her hands stilled, and she met his gaze, straightening her shoulders. “I can’t take your charity, even though I thank you for the offer. I understand you’re in need of a housekeeper. If you’ll hire me, I’d welcome the opportunity.” She clenched the dishtowel and leaned forward, speaking softly. “I’m a hard worker, Mr. McKinnon. Your brother said the house next door came
with the job, so I wouldn’t expect much pay. It would be a big help, even though it’s only temporary—until we find Quint or you find someone else for the job.”

  Cade’s heart constricted at the desperation in her eyes. You don’t have to beg, Jessie. “The housekeeper’s place is small. Only has three rooms.”

  “It’s bigger than what we had.” At the hasty admission, her face turned bright red.

  “Would forty dollars a month plus room and board be agreeable?” The wage was high, equal to top pay for most cowboys, but he’d go even higher to keep Jessie Monroe around.

  Eyes widening, she nodded. Relief flooded her face as she whispered, “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be the one to benefit. I’m a lousy cook.” He thought of the mess in his bedroom. “And a worse housekeeper.” He glanced around the room, noting the absence of the layer of dust that had covered everything for a couple of weeks. “But you’ve already noticed that.” He smiled, holding her gaze. “And taken care of it.”

  She blushed again and shrugged lightly. “I just tidied up in here.”

  “I appreciate it. You’ll need to sleep here for a few days. I gave just about everything that was in the little house to Nan when she got married. Saturday, we can go to town and get bedding and furniture. The house will probably need some cleaning, too.”

  Jessie laughed. “I’ve worked as a housekeeper and cook since I was fifteen. I’m good at cleaning.”

  Even if she wasn’t, it would still be worth every cent to make certain she and the children were safe. He owed it to Quint.

  She relaxed against the back of the chair with a grin. “You don’t know how nice it will be not to sleep on the ground.”

  Cade chuckled and picked up his fork. “Oh, yes, ma’am, I do. Most cowboys would never own up to it, but personally, I’ll take a comfortable bed over the hard ground most any time.”

  As her musical laughter floated around him, Cade pictured her smiling up at him as he wrapped her in his embrace. His throat went dry, and he silently admitted that his friendship with her brother had little to do with wanting to keep Jessie Monroe within arms’ reach.

 

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