Brides of the West: Josie's Wedding DressLast Minute BrideHer Ideal Husband

by Victoria Bylin

  “I will. But not until I’m sure you’re all right. Nate was my best friend. I owe it to him. I owe it to you.”

  She raised her chin. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I think I do,” he replied calmly. “This winter was tough for everyone. How are things at the ranch?”

  “I’m managing just fine.”

  His gaze slid to the mule and the buggy. Josie cringed, because Ty would see her poverty. The leather seat had a crack in it, and the mule lacked dignity. Next he looked at the dress she’d stitched when they’d been courting. She’d made it over a couple times, but he’d recognize it. Neither could she hide the faded color.

  His jaw tensed. “You’re struggling, aren’t you?”

  “Like I said, I’m fine.”

  His gaze stayed on her face. “Things don’t look fine.”

  Just like old times, she felt as if he could see to her toes. Knowing Ty, he wouldn’t back down until he got what he wanted, and today he wanted details. No way would she tell him the Bar JB had lost most of its cattle, and that Lester Proffitt refused her request for a loan. She had her pride, and she wanted Ty to leave.

  But he wasn’t leaving. He’d put on his hat and was reaching for her hand. Before she could step back, he clasped her by the wrist, raised her forearm and loosened her deerskin glove a finger at a time. Stunned, she thought of the day he’d dropped to one knee and proposed marriage. She’d said yes and he’d slipped an engagement ring on her finger. Her hands used to be pretty. They weren’t pretty now. Why she didn’t stop him from removing the glove, she didn’t know. Maybe she wanted him to see her ruined hands, what he’d done to her by valuing his horses and his pride more than their vows.

  He pulled the glove completely off, inspected her cracked nails and turned her hand palm up to show the calluses. She saw fire in his eyes and braced herself. Ty Donner wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon, and she wasn’t as annoyed as she wanted to be. That softening had to be denied. He’d hurt her, and he could hurt her again. She thought of the white dress, the bouquet that had wilted, the humiliation of leaving the church alone and unwed.

  She’d never forget that moment.

  She’d never forgive him for what he’d done.

  She simply couldn’t, because looking at him made her hurt all over again. With her feelings raw, she looked into his eyes.

  He let go of her hand but didn’t release her from his gaze. “You need help, Josie. I’m staying until things are right.”

  “I don’t want your help. Haven’t you hurt me enough? Please… Just go.” She waved her arm to indicate the open prairie.

  Ty’s jaw tensed. “Why are you working like a hired hand?”

  “It’s none of your concern.”

  He rocked back on one heel and put his hands on his hips. “You’re wrong, Josie girl—”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  He ignored her. “I was wrong to chase after the Scudders, and you’re wrong to chase me off now.”

  She didn’t know whether to cry for what she’d lost or slap his face for calling her Josie girl. She also yearned to accept his help. What would it be like to share the load of running the Bar JB? The grass rippled in a green wave, the sole benefit of the devastating winter. If only she could buy cattle…Ty knew everything about ranching. It was her needs he hadn’t understood. When it came to cattle and horses, he had a gift—especially with horses, fast horses that could run like the wind. An idea formed in Josie’s mind and wouldn’t let go.

  A month from now Rock Creek would hold the annual Founders’ Day celebration. People would come from miles away for games and contests, baking competitions, and most important of all, the running of the May Day Maze. The ten-mile race tested a horse’s speed and endurance. It went through canyons and across streams, over hills and ended in a straight run through a long valley. The Maze required a skilled rider and a fast horse, and Josie had both. She had Ty, and she had Smoke, the mustang stallion Ty had owned and loved. When he’d gone to prison, the bank had repossessed his ranch. Nate had bought Smoke with the intention of giving Ty the horse when he got out.

  Josie had no desire to welcome Ty into her life, but she very much wanted to win the May Day Maze. The grand prize was a thousand dollars. If he won the race on Smoke, they could split it. She could pay the mortgage and buy some cattle. But the risk… He had no place to live, which meant she’d have to offer him a spot in the bunkhouse with Obie Jones and Gordie Walker, her two hired hands. Ty would need meals and they’d cross paths a dozen times a day. The cost of asking him to ride in the race was high, but refusing his help might cost her the ranch.

  Josie hadn’t answered him and he was still waiting. Standing taller, she made her voice all business. “I have an offer for you.”

  “What is it?”

  “I need someone to ride in the May Day Maze. Will you do it?”

  Ty pulled his hat low, but not before she saw his eyes burn with longing. He took a breath, then another one. When he turned his gaze to the empty meadow, she knew he was remembering an old hope. He’d dreamed of winning the Maze his whole life, just as she’d dreamed of having a beautiful wedding. In their courting days, they’d often shared their hopes. It had been an exciting time. She felt that rush now and pushed it aside. This was business, she told herself. It had nothing to do with the dress hanging in the wardrobe or the veil she’d never worn. She wouldn’t notice the gleam in Ty’s blue eyes. She wouldn’t think of anything except saving her home…she simply wouldn’t.

  “Say yes, Ty,” she urged. “I need your help.”

  Chapter Two

  Ty had dreamed of riding in the May Day Maze for years. Before the mess with the Scudders, he’d hoped to win and use the prize money to build a big house for Josie and the kids they’d have. He’d have entered the race in a heartbeat, but he was riding a twenty-year-old gelding he was grateful to own, and the mule pulling her buggy didn’t look any better.

  “The best riders in Wyoming come for that race,” he said to her. “You know I want to ride in it, but on what?”

  “I have Smoke.”

  “Smoke?” Ty’s voice trailed to a whisper. He’d caught and gentled the mustang himself. No one else had ever ridden the crazy stallion, though a few men had tried. Josie or Nate must have bought the horse when the bank auctioned his possessions. He suddenly wanted to ride fast and free, without fences or prison bars to hold him back. He wanted that freedom almost as much as he wanted Josie’s forgiveness. He could take that ride, but Josie’s pardon would have to be earned. Riding in the Maze was a good start. Smoke would be five years older, maybe slower, but he was still a smart, rangy stallion.

  A hush settled over the cemetery. The breeze died and the grass went still. Not even a bird chirped as Ty held her gaze. “I’ll ride for you, Josie.”

  “We’ll split the prize.”

  No, they wouldn’t. He’d give her every cent, but they could argue about it later. Afraid she’d change her mind, he tilted his head toward the gate and said, “Let’s go. I need to check out Smoke.”

  She headed to the buggy without a word. Ty would have handed her up, even suggested tying his gelding to the back and doing the driving, but Josie lifted the reins before he could blink.

  “You know the way.” She clicked her tongue at the mule, steered around the cemetery and headed for the Bar JB. Ty wanted a final word with Nate, so he walked back to the grave. Instead of taking off his hat, he pulled it lower. “This is it, friend. I’m going to make things right for Josie.”

  The burden Ty carried didn’t ease completely, but a bit of weight lifted from his shoulders. If he could win the May Day Maze, he’d be a step closer to atoning for the worst mistake of his life. Blinking, he thought back to Reverend Gaines, the chaplain who visited the pri
son twice a week. Ty had been among the forty men who gathered in the dining hall for services. He’d never forget the reverend’s first sermon.

  Jesus calls us to walk in His shoes. Do you have the courage to love the way He did? It’s the kind of love where you put your own hopes aside for the benefit of someone else.

  That evening in jail, Ty had prayed with Reverend Gaines. He’d vowed to be a better man from that day forth, and he’d decided to start by making amends to Josie. The decision had come from the deep well of regret, though today he felt something along with the remorse. He couldn’t stop seeing her face in his mind, and his gut stirred with the feelings they’d shared as a couple. She’d changed, but she had the same fire he’d always loved. His reaction troubled him, because he had nothing to offer except riding Smoke in the Maze.

  With the sun beating on his back, he spoke to Nate. “She’s prettier than ever, isn’t she?”

  Nate didn’t answer, of course. But Ty knew what he’d have said. He’d have teased his friend about being sweet on his little sister. Nate had heckled him mercilessly, until Ty told him to shut up because he was going to marry Josie whether Nate liked it or not.

  Nate had laughed. Ty could almost hear that sound now and he answered back, “I’ll do my best for her. You have my word.”

  Determined and unafraid, he left the graveyard, climbed on the gelding and headed for the Bright ranch. With the buggy in the distance, he looked at the hills that hadn’t changed and the ruts that had. He felt more like a rut than a mountain today, but the mountains called to his blood. He was itching for wind and dust, speed, and the May Day Maze. As he took in the sky and the empty meadows, he thought of the Bible verse he’d scratched on the wall of his cell. The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.

  Feeling better than he had in years, he lagged behind Josie, enjoying the vast meadows and preparing himself for seeing familiar things. Mostly he recalled the porch swing where he’d proposed to her. Ty had spoken first to her father. A big man, Mr. Bright had shaken Ty’s hand and told him to take good care of Josie or else. The “or else” had been a fatherly jab, but Ty felt the burden in his bones. After supper he’d sat with her on the swing. More nervous than he’d ever been, he’d dropped to one knee and asked her to be his wife. She’d said yes and they’d kissed.

  Five years in prison had done nothing to dull the memory of that moment.

  Five minutes in her presence made it sharper than ever. It cut through the fog of time and the effort he’d made to forget her. If he wasn’t careful, he’d earn Josie’s forgiveness but lose his dignity by falling in love like a calf-eyed kid.

  As the Bright ranch came into view, Ty lagged behind so he could take a good look at the old two-story house. The white siding stood out against the sky, and behind it grass stretched as far as he could see. He looked to the west and saw a barn the size of a cathedral. In its day, the Bar JB had been the most prosperous ranch in Rock Creek. Approaching now, Ty saw outbuildings in need of paint, missing shingles and a falling-down fence. He looked back at the house expecting to see a garden to the left of it. He couldn’t remember a spring when Mrs. Bright didn’t tend to her vegetables, but today he saw weeds.

  There was no doubt about it. Josie needed help. Eager to get to work—and to see Smoke—he turned the gelding toward the barn. Rounding a curve in the path, he saw Josie going toe to toe with Obie Jones. Years ago Ty had hired the man and fired him a week later. Obie was the laziest, most conniving man Ty had ever met, and the fool had a cigarette dangling from his lips…a cigarette by a barn full of hay and livestock. Ty didn’t know the man behind Obie, but he recognized his type. Judging by the sneer on his face, he didn’t take kindly to a woman giving him orders.

  Everyone in Rock Creek knew Obie’s reputation. Josie must have been desperate to hire him. Keeping a respectful distance, Ty climbed off the gelding and waited for her to finish her business.

  The wait ended when Obie blew smoke in her face.

  * * *

  Josie hoped Ty wouldn’t interfere. She’d caught Obie smoking outside the barn…again. Lazy or not, Obie was the only man in Rock Creek who’d work for the pittance she could afford to pay. The other fellow, a drifter named Gordie, had less to offer than Obie. She’d hired them out of desperation. With the bitter winter, most of the local hands had drifted south. If Obie and Gordie quit, she’d be in trouble.

  Obie looked past her to Ty and smirked. “Look what the wind blew in… .”

  If Josie turned to look at Ty, she’d appear weak. She kept her eyes on Obie, but she heard the creak of Ty’s saddle as he swung off the gelding, then the scuff of his boots on the hard dirt. His shadow stretched to meet hers, and she heard the soft exhalation of his breath.

  “Hello, Obie,” he said in a drawl.

  Josie stole a glance at Ty’s profile. He had fire in his eyes, the kind that got him in trouble. If he chased off Obie, the trouble would be hers. She didn’t trust Ty to handle this situation, but she couldn’t deal with Ty and Obie and Gordie at the same time. Caught between two bad choices, she said nothing.

  Obie aimed his stubbly chin at Gordie. “This here’s Ty Donner. He’s been locked away in that big prison in Laramie.”

  Josie wanted to wipe the smirk off Obie’s face. The man had no right to gloat, though why she felt protective of Ty she didn’t want to know.

  Next to her, Ty shrugged. “I’m out now.”

  “I can see that,” Obie answered.

  Ty indicated the man’s cigarette. “Mind if I bum a smoke?”

  Obie hurled his tobacco pouch with too much force. Ty snagged it with one hand. Obie smirked. “Help yourself.”

  “I’ll do that.” Ty sounded friendly, but instead of opening the pouch, he threw it as far as he could into a meadow full of tall grass. The blades waved, then went still.

  Obie called Ty a foul name.

  With his hands loose, Ty stepped up to the hired man, snatched the cigarette from his lips and ground it into the dirt. With his eyes narrowed, he glared at Obie. “If I ever catch you smoking by this barn again, you’re fired.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Josie didn’t know whether to cheer for Ty, be mad he’d presumed the power to fire anyone, or to smooth the waters with Obie. Lazy or not, she needed her hired hands. Ty was a hard worker, but he couldn’t do the work of three men. At the same time, she couldn’t let Obie control the situation. Like it or not, she had to trust Ty.

  Obie spat on the ground. The brownish glob landed on the hem of her skirt. Gasping with disgust, she stepped back.

  Ty grabbed Obie by the collar and lifted him to his toes. “A lady deserves respect. You owe Miss Bright an apology.”

  Obie snorted.

  Ty lifted him higher. “What does that mean?”

  “Mizz Bright’s no lady.”

  Josie blanked her face, but she felt the sting of Obie’s words. As the boss of the Bar JB, she’d learned to be tough. She drove hard bargains and wore trousers when she worked. She liked pretty things as much as any woman, but she’d traded lace for denim and hat pins for a Stetson. She’d also traded a wedding dress for a broken heart, and she had a ranch to run. For the sake of getting the work done, she could ignore Obie’s insults.

  Ty, it seemed, had no such inclination. Using both hands, he hurled Obie against the barn. Obie hit with a thud but came back swinging. Ty ducked, then landed a roundhouse punch that sent Obie to the ground. Gordie cussed, then swung at Ty. The blow landed on Ty’s jaw and snapped back his head.

  “Stop it!” Josie cried.

  Obie lumbered to his feet. Fists flew and curses filled the air. Ty lost his hat and blood spilled from a cut on his jaw, but he didn’t seem to care. Josie knew better than to get in the middle of headstrong males, either bovi
ne or human. Furious, she paced to the water trough on the side of the barn, filled a bucket and lugged it back around the corner. Gordie was on his knees and heaving, so she hurled it at Ty and Obie. As the water fanned from the bucket, Ty landed a blow to Obie’s chin. The hired hand stumbled backward, leaving Ty to take the brunt of the water.

  “What the—” he stopped in midsentence and stared at her.

  Josie’s cheeks flamed. Dousing Ty alone had been unfair. He’d started the fight, but he’d done it to defend her honor. Judging by the marks on his face, he was destined for a black eye, maybe two. Obie was sitting on the ground, wiping blood from his nose and glaring at her as she set down the empty bucket. He lumbered to his feet and spat a mouthful of blood. “I quit.”

  “Me, too,” Gordie added.

  Josie panicked. “But—”

  Ty interrupted. “Get out of here. Now.”

  “Mizz Bright owes us wages,” Obie complained.

  A full month’s pay… She’d gone to the bank because she couldn’t meet the obligation without holding back on the bill at the mercantile. Would the juggling ever stop? She was getting ready to negotiate with Obie when Ty looked at her. “How much do you owe these fools?”

  Josie knew his thinking. He intended to pay off Obie and Gordie for her. She didn’t want to owe him a favor. “This isn’t your problem.”

  “How much?” he repeated.

  Gordie answered for her. “We get twenty dollars a month each.”

  Ty went to his horse and opened the saddlebag. He came back with a money pouch, removed a few bills and paid Gordie and Obie. Gordie took the money and stepped back. Obie snatched two sawbucks and glared at Ty. “You owe me for the smokes.”

  “Sure.” Ty dug in the money pouch, removed some pennies and tossed them on the ground.