ROMANCE: His Reluctant Heart (Historical Western Victorian Romance) (Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Fantasy Short Stories)

by Jane Prescott

  “Well…” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m afraid that boy has life all planned out. I keep on him to marry, and he just keeps on saying no. Seems to think he hasn’t the time or inclination to settle down quite yet. It ain’t right, him being such a decent lad and all. Miss Leticia, you’ll back me up on that?”

  She nodded coolly. “Despite the tree from which he’s fallen, the young man is a proper gentleman and would his wife be the envy of any girl in the territory. He’s not unlettered either; one of my better pupils.”

  “There you have it, miss! A better recommendation you’ll never hear.”

  She considered. “If that is all so, I suppose it will do no harm to meet the man, at the least to make up my mind for myself.”

  “Oh, but you did meet him!” The Mayor smiled. “Garret McGrath is the talk of the town! Shot down old dirty Sullivan and saved the town from a terrible fate- for now, anyway.”

  #

  Garret was, at that moment, following a dry, dusty trail towards what he had long suspected to be the robber hideout. He had little hope of catching them this time, but it was good to get a better sense of where they might have their camp. They’d need a lot more than just the two of them to bring the gang to justice, and he knew it. The trouble had been getting anyone to drop their yellow streak and tag along to form a posse.

  It wasn’t as if he were really the sheriff, any more than his grandfather was the mayor. He didn’t have the authority of the territory. All he had was a right to self-defense, and that was what he was counting on.

  “You get a look at that little girl back in town?” Jim drawled. He had an easy-going way of coming around to making mention of his interests, as though they weren’t really of much interest to him at all. From long experience riding the trails and drinking with his friend, he knew Jim Montgomery’s round-about method of staking a claim on women was either casual or in earnest. Either way he stated it, he wasn’t going to show his hand.

  “Might have. Pretty. So?”

  “I don’t know. Thought I saw you eyeballing her, that’s all.” Jim hinted. “Probably another of them mail-order brides, if I had to suspect, got stood up by her man.”

  “Happening more often than I’d like, I’ll allow. Don’t seem proper to me.”

  “That’s what I say!” Jim heartily agreed. “So- you won’t mind if I come calling on her?”

  “Well, that’s just it, ain’t it? Where you going to call on her?”

  “Ma Nelson’s, I’d reckon.”

  Garret thought about that and chuckled. “Didn’t think of that, but you may well be right. Poor thing. Bugs gonna eat her alive tonight. Nah, I don’t care. Why should I care?”

  His friend shrugged. “Like I say, looked to be eyeballin’ her is all.”

  “Barely noticed her.” He tried to pretend to be nonchalant, but his words sounded flat as he said them. She’d been pretty all right- beautiful, if he were being honest. It was strange how matter-of-fact she’d been around the gunfight. She hadn’t gone into hysterics, nor had she been wailing about the injustice of her position as so many others had done before her. It was a curiosity that she should react as she had, and though he hated to admit it, Garret was intrigued by such curiosities.

  “Hard not to notice a figure like that under big old green dress.” Jim mused.

  “Wasn’t never green. It was white with blue stripes.”

  The two were silent for a full minute before Jim started laughing at him. “Aw shut up.” Garret snarled.

  “That’s what I thought. See, I thought I’d get a rise outta you by trying to court her, but you still couldn’t say nothing, could you?”

  “Girl like that, a proper woman, needs a husband.” Garret said grimly. “It needs to be done right. And I ain’t the marrying type.”

  “Sure you ain’t.” Jim agreed. Under his breath, he said something else.

  “What was that?”

  “I said, ‘In a pig’s eye!’” He shouted back, still chuckling at his friend.

  The sun was beginning to dip towards the west, so the two turned around, abandoning the trail for the evening. They’d scout out the rest of the way in the morning, but for now they would return to the River Ranch, where Garret did his best to eke out a living as a cattle man. That is, he thought morosely, when he wasn’t forced to play town sheriff without a proper badge.

  Maybe he’d have to do something about that one of these days soon.

  #

  The two women, Letty and Annie, tried to sit primly in the cart being driven down the old, worn path to the River Ranch. Mayor McGrath had invited them to dinner, an effort to make peace. He had hurried to add that Garret would be there, as the young man all but ran the ranch for him these days. “I don’t know how he does it,” he confessed after having apologized profusely for his deceptions. “Runs the ranch, keeps the peace, still manages to attend church every Sunday.”

  Letty had chastised the man so severely, Annie had found it difficult to get a word in edgewise. When she finally did find a break in the yelling, she’d asked him the first question that had occurred to her.

  “Why would you write to me as Mr. Sullivan? That’s the part I’m still clear on that part of your very dishonorable actions.”

  “Dishonorable, yes, I know it and I’ll own to it.” He’d assured her. “The thing is, he never comes into town except to shoot, gamble, drink, and who- um, keep company with the ladies of the evening. I knew there was no chance you’d meet. Once he let you down, then I’d introduce you to my grandson. For his part, my grandson knows nothing of these matters, and I would have it kept so. He is too happy a bachelor by half, and is in grave need of beauty and refinement in life, the sort of warmth and happiness that only an attractive and attentive wife can provide. Do you see?” He smiled wanly. “I assure you, I meant no ill-will. Please, come to dinner. You’ll see, he’s quite the winning lad and, in proper time, perhaps you’ll find him worthy of some small portion of your attention.”

  “We’ll do no such thing!” Letty had insisted, but on this count Annie wasn’t so certain.

  She spoke up before the older woman could start a new tirade. “It would be pleasant to enjoy a nice home-made supper after such a long journey. If your grandson will be there, Mr. McGrath, I will not object. If it is true he took no part in this chicanery, of course, I will not hold it against him.” It wouldn’t do to sound desperate, but the tall blonde had caught her eye. She wanted a second look.

  Now as they drew closer to the ranch house, she was questioning the wisdom of her decision. Should she have held back, played a bit more hard-to-get? She didn’t want to seem overtly designing. At the same time, reflecting on the man’s face gave her butterflies in the stomach. He had such broad shoulders, such a confident stride.

  The old man was on the porch when they arrived, his ridiculous hat removed in favor of a more practical rancher’s hat. “Welcome! Welcome, ladies!” He called out. Two young men, Jim and Garret, were idling on the porch. They approached and helped the ladies down. Annie paid the cart driver for the ride, and he tipped his cap before heading back to town.

  “You’ll be back at the agreed upon time?” Letty shouted out, and the man nodded his agreement.

  The four stepped into the large-framed house and settled into the sitting room. “Cook’s going to have supper ready soon.” The Mayor said, his voice sounding a bit nervous. “I hope you’re both partial to beef. Beef and potatoes with lots of bread and pie afterward, sound all right to you ma’am?”

  Letty sniffed. “Beef. I should have preferred chicken, myself.”

  “Beef sounds quite lovely, Mr. McGrath,” Annie assured him, and the older man beamed in response.

  “Excellent! I think you’ll find the River Ranch has the finest beef cuts this side of the Mississippi, or the other for that matter. I think you’ll find them to be the facts.”

  “You all settled in quite well, Miss Annie?” The cowpoke she remembered to be
named Jim asked. He had a broad, friendly smile. Too friendly. She lowered her eyes and tried to look away from the man with the trim black hair and mustache. He wasn’t unpleasing to look at, it was just that it wasn’t his attention she craved.

  “Just fine, thanks to the kindly care of Miss Leticia Holcomb. I’ve never been so fortunate.”

  “That’s mighty fine.” He said broadly. She looked to Garret, hopefully. Could she catch his eye if she were careful with her feminine charms? He was looking away from them all, seemingly amused by something in his own mind.

  “Mr. McGrath, Mr. Garret McGrath, if you’ll forgive me being familiar in the pursuit of clarity. Do you find it difficult to reign in these bandits who plague the town?”

  He seemed to think about this before answering. “It’s not a duty that I enjoy, Miss McIver. These men who terrorize the countryside are met with no resistance, as I fear that apart from those of us on the ranch there is too much fear to counter their ill doings. But I will be pleased to fight these devils if I must, at least until such responsibilities fall to better men.”

  Garret was consciously avoiding looking at her. She tried to keep up a smile, but felt it was plastered on, anxiously at that. Had she left so unattractive an impression on him? She wondered if she had finally reached that mysterious point in her life at which men lose interest. Was there something wrong with her? Or- was his heart given to another?

  “Oh! While we’re waiting for dinner, perhaps you would care to see the library, Annie?” Old Man McGrath suggested. “I fancy we have quite a collection here, worthy of any of the great houses of the east. Garret, you’ll do the honors, won’t you?”

  “Of course, grandfather.” He seemed in no rush to get up, but did so and crossed the room to offer her an arm. She took it, stood, and allowed herself to be led into an adjoining room.

  The library was, indeed, impressive. There were massive numbers of leather-bound books and she happily tripped her fingers across their spines, reading the titles. “These are indeed welcome friends.” She smiled. “Emerson. Alcott. Thoreau and Hawthorne. Your family knows their New England writers well.”

  “I’m sure you’re welcome to borrow as you please, Miss McIver.”

  She smiled up to him, taking in his blue eyes. He didn’t seem moved, so she lowered her eyes and blushed. “I’m… sure that would be pleasant enough. Thank you- you’re too kind.”

  “Not at all.”

  She felt quite stupid. Coming here had been a mistake. This man had no interest in her at all. Annie found her voice catch as she tried to speak. “I’m sure you must have better things to do than to show me books. Let’s make the best of this evening and I won’t trouble you further.”

  “No.” His voice sounded strange, strained as he spoke, and she was surprised by his insistence. “I mean- you shouldn’t feel as though you need hurry home.”

  “I feel I am imposing. Perhaps there’s a woman in your heart you’d rather spend such gentle evenings with?” She asked, hoping there was no one; yet at the same time it would almost be a relief to know that there was someone else. It would explain his disinterest. Of course, she had known that there were men- women too- who preferred the company of their own sex. While Miss Letty would call such a thing a sin and she supposed it was, it had seemed to her it must be a small sin in the eyes of the Lord. After all, her own best friend Marjorie had confessed such taboo feelings to her once when they were young girls. She had been shocked, but she had agreed to keep her friend’s secret and tell no one. She supposed it was a possibility he was of a similar persuasion.

  Garret stepped away from her and went to a window. “I- there is no one. I am not pursuing love, for I don’t know that I can be such a master of my own heart and of my own will in such an arrangement.”

  She furrowed her brow at this. “Whatever could you mean, Mr. McGrath?”

  His voice lowered as he spoke. “I knew love once. Only once. A fickle girl, she abused my affections and ran away east at the first opportunity. Since then, I have thrown myself into this Ranch, saved it from the banks, from drought, hard times, and now cattle rustlers. With that task, I’ve now put myself in line to be shot by wild men. No, this is no time for love.”

  Annie felt sad for him. She sighed, looking down. “I can understand that. You wish to have your freedom.”

  “Yes.” He said this a bit stronger than he meant. “Yet I am not made of stone. I do want to love. And to give love.” Here he looked her in the eye.

  The meeting of their eyes was electric. She knew in a moment he’d been hiding his attraction from her. He’d never say the exact words, but she knew why he was holding back. He was afraid of losing the life he was building to the will of a woman who couldn’t understand him.

  “I believe, Mr. McGrath,” she suggested slowly. “That we are of a like mind. I would not wish to be without love, nor would I wish to be ruled. Perhaps we might speak more on these matters another time, for I am intrigued by your thoughts on love.”

  “And I in yours.” He replied earnestly. Some spark of light shone in his eyes for a moment. “But you must call me Garret.”

  “You will call me Annie. All my friends do so.”

  “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

  #

  A few weeks passed. The train home came and went; each time, Annie declined to depart. Instead, she applied for and found a position as an assistant to Doctor Bowen, acting as his nurse. She was grateful for the work, and pleased to be able to pay Letty for her keep. Each Friday, they hired a cart and rode out to the River Ranch for dinner, conversation, and stories from old man McGrath. Jim was there and had quickly gone from hound on the prowl to polite friend.

  As for Garret, they took to strolls after church and held quiet, private conversations in the library regarding the books they read, the natural beauty of the territory, and, Annie’s favorite conversation topic, the issue of love. They talked about what a perfect love should be; in their view, one in which a man and wife acted as partner and supporter, neither a nag nor a tyrant to the one they were bound to. Throughout their conversations, their eyes met frequently; soon hands were touching and once, while taking in the night air, their lips nearly met as well. But the time wasn’t ripe, and they remained reluctant to give in entirely. Each, after all, wanted something more certain, more definite than “maybe.”

  Jim, Garret, and young Winslow, saved from the gallows by promising to mend his ways, had gone back to mixing work at the ranch with trying to seek out the bandits. They’d moved, which was no big surprise to Garret. As he explained, there were likely a dozen of them left, and it was all but certain that Butch Johnson was their new leader. If anything, he was worse than Ben; more ornery, villainous, and cruel. The newly formed gang had already killed a stagecoach driver and his passengers and had raided the Tate Ranch, only a few miles from town. They’d left no survivors.

  One afternoon, the local blacksmith was laid out on the bed in the doctor’s surgery, his head suffering major damage from a horse’s kick. Annie and the Doc had their hands full trying to keep him alive and mend him. Just as they’d nearly had the man in what Doc deemed to be stable condition, Winslow burst into his office.

  “What’s the meaning of this, young man?” The doctor tried not to shout, focusing on his work. But the bloodied youth’s face caught his attention. “Oh oh. You catch a stray bullet there?”

  “Just a cut.” He said, but rapidly went on before either of them could say anything. “Jim and Garret are in terrible trouble. We got ambushed. Jim- he might die if you can’t help him!”

  “What do you expect me to do? I have a patient. Can’t go out there now.”

  “I’m just telling you what I know.” The boy fell into a chair, looking exhausted.

  “Aw hell.” Doc turned to Annie. “Annie, keep an eye on this… wait now, what are you doing?”

  She ran over to the doctor’s black bag and snatched it up. “I’m going to lend a hand.”
<
br />   “That’s too dangerous! You’ll get yourself killed!”

  “You can’t leave the blacksmith; we know he’ll certainly die without your attention. It may be too late for Jim, but I suppose I could try to stitch him up. I’ll be quick. Can you ride, Winslow?”

  “Yes ma’am!”

  “Then let’s go.” She rushed down the hall and outside to fetch the horse. She was glad she’d learned to ride as a young girl.

  Within a short time, they had ridden out into the steppes and wild grasslands. They raced along the prairie towards the looming, dry mountains where Winslow assured her he had left them.

  She found them, all right. Garret was leaning over this friend. His own arm was bleeding. Not too far away, they spied three more bodies.

  “It’s too late. We chased the others off, but it’s too late for poor Jim.” Garret bitterly declared. She dismounted and took a closer look, checking his heart and his breath. It was faint, but there was a pulse.

  “Let me see to him.” She ordered. She pulled out bandages from her bag and handed them over. “Wrap that arm of yours up until Doc can more properly treat you. I’ll do what I can for Jim.”