A Bluebonnet Misfit Christmas: Sweet Historical Christian Western Romance (Mail Order Brides of Misfit Ranch Bluebonnet, Texas Book 2)

by Patricia PacJac Carroll

  Chapter 3

  Nettie poured water over her struggling rosebush. Poor thing. If it wasn’t the heat or the drought, it was the biting frost like they’d had last week. Minnesota was cold, but on schedule. Texas weather was as contrary as the wild horses her husband and Yancy caught and brought in to tame.

  She didn’t like that Reed had to leave her for the dangerous work, but she’d come to a settled peace that God watched over him and her. Living in Bluebonnet had helped her overcome the paralyzing fear she’d faced daily while growing up. Perhaps some of that fierce Texas courage and freedom had seeped into her heart.

  Standing, she stretched her back and gazed down the road. A lone rider was coming. She considered going into the house to get the revolver her husband had taught her how to shoot, but she didn’t want to give in to fear every time a shadow crossed her path.

  She placed a hand to shield the bright sun and waited.

  He rode up to her, dismounted, and smiled. “Nettie Andrews?”

  “Yes?” He was a nice looking man, and his eyes spoke friendliness.

  “I’m Wilbur Williams. My friends call me Wills.” He reached into his pocket and brought out the envelope she’d mailed to him.

  “Oh, you’re here.” She halved the distance between them and held out her hand.

  His warm, sturdy hand gripped hers. “Hope I’m not too early.”

  “No, not at all. Sally isn’t here. She stays at town.” He was handsome, with broad shoulders and tall. Sally would be pleased. “Would you like to come in? I have some fresh tea brewed, or I can make coffee.”

  “Tea would be fine.” He led his horse to the trough and let him drink, then walked to the hitching post and tied him.

  Nettie smiled. A good man. One can always tell by the way they treat their animals. “This way.” She stepped onto her porch and then opened the door. “It’s a nice day. We can sit on the porch if you don’t mind?”

  “Fine with me, ma’am.”

  In minutes, she came out with two glasses and a pitcher of tea. “I’m so pleased that you came.”

  “I sensed by your letters that the quicker I arrived, the better.” He sipped the tea and smiled. “Refreshing, Sally isn’t in any danger, is she?”

  “No.” She noticed the unasked questions in his eyes. “I have to confess, I haven’t told Sally about our arrangement.”

  He stopped in mid-sip, set his glass down, and cocked his head. “Is there a problem? Does she have someone interested in her?”

  Nettie drew in a breath. Perhaps Reed had been right. Hearts were nothing to be played with. “No. Nothing like that. I wanted to help her. She’s so fragile—”

  “I assure you, I will not harm her. I only want to be a good husband and take care of her.” He sat at the edge of his seat.

  Nettie rose, walked away, and then turned and leaned against the porch railing to face him. “I want her to be loved, not just cared for.”

  His face paled just the slightest as he eased back against the cushion. “All right. I’ll win her over.”

  “May I be honest?”

  “Please do.”

  “Why? You’re a handsome young man. I’m sure there are any number of pretty girls that would be happy to consent to be your wife. Why would you settle for a soiled dove?”

  A frown drove away his pleasant smile as pain pricked his eyes. “Personal reason, ma’am.”

  “You can call me Nettie.”

  “Nettie. I have my reasons. None of which are nefarious. As you know, I’m an attorney and should be able to provide a comfortable life for her. In time, I hope she can love me.”

  “And you? Will you love her?”

  He paused. “I hope so. I can’t make that promise, but I can promise to make her feel special and provide for all her needs.”

  Nettie held her tongue. What was his secret? She genuinely liked him, but why couldn’t he promise to love Sally? She swirled her glass, thinking and choosing her words. “I like you, Wills. I want the best for Sally. She’s not had an easy life. While being provided for is important, I truly want someone to love her.”

  “Does that mean you’re turning me away?” Disappointment laced his words.

  “No. You came all this way. Perhaps it is Providence. I guess I am saying, don’t take this lightly.”

  He stood. “One thing I can tell you is this, in no way will I take courting Sally in a frivolous manner. This means more to me than I can share.”

  Nettie walked back to the swing and set her glass down. “Please sit. I didn’t mean to insult you or your intentions in any way. I just don’t want to see Sally hurt.”

  Wills sat down. “I can promise you from my heart, I will do nothing to hurt her.”

  “Good. Sally stays at Mya’s boarding house. She comes out here a couple of times a week to help me with chores and helps Mya the rest of the time. You do know that courting her will cause fingers to be pointed your way. Bluebonnet is a wonderful town, but it does have its share of stinkers.”

  He grinned. “I think the Good Lord gave us skunks to remind us that stinkers are a part of the community. I’m aware that a saloon girl is not looked on with favor. And that any man that courts one will become a joke to some. I know that and I’m not afraid.”

  Her respect for the man was growing by the minute, and she couldn’t wait for Reed to meet him. “Your letter said you were an attorney?”

  “Yes. I just talked to Mrs. Burkett about buying her store. Should be finalized later today.”

  “Are you a drinking man?”

  “No. Sarsaparilla for me.” He held up his glass. “And tea.”

  Nettie couldn’t stop the grin from escaping her lips. Wills was perfect. “What about church?”

  “My momma always told me the Good Lord would show me the way when there didn’t seem to be one. I fear nothing other than God. I do go to church as often as I can.”

  The last of her questions answered, Nettie nodded. “You’re a good man, Wills, and I think you can make Sally happy.”

  He lifted his glass to her as if in a toast. “Only God is good, but I’ll do my best to make her happy. Do you want me to wait for you to introduce us?”

  Nettie swallowed hard. What did she want? She’d not thought this far. “I really don’t know. I admit, you surprised me with your quick arrival. Perhaps, this Saturday, I can have you both over for dinner. For now, let this be our secret. I don’t want Sally to know I sent an ad for a husband for her.”

  He held up his glass. “To secrets. I’ll follow your lead and look forward to seeing you again Saturday.” He rose and whistled.

  His horse raised its head and nickered.

  “It was a pleasure, Nettie. I better get back to town.” He walked down the porch steps, stopped, and looked at her. “Oh, by the way. I met your nephew, Sheriff Wellesley. He’s very protective of you. Got the feeling he’s a good man.”

  “He’s a very good man and sheriff. You’ll like him. Perhaps you can stay a little longer and share dinner with us.”

  “I can stay a few more minutes and have another glass of tea or two, but I’ve got plans for dinner.”

  “Good. I do hope Reed comes in before you have to leave.” Nettie rubbed her arms. Seems the weather was intent on changing again. Sally should be pleased with Wills. Nettie only hoped she would forgive her for going behind her back.

  ###

  Yancy Wallace galloped his sure-footed paint mustang after the lead mare of the small herd of wild horses. Cool Texas air blew in his face giving him joy for his freedom, temporary as it may be. Gaining on the wild mustangs, he yipped and shot his pistol into the air.

  As one, the herd turned and ran toward Reed. This would be the biggest haul they’d made yet. Yancy had never worked so hard. He had to admit, Reed had been nothing but fair toward him, probably only because he’d been friends with his father, Judge Wallace.

  Yancy had yet to reconcile in his mind his father had turned to rustling and why. Everyone had
loved the judge, but had disparaged him as the man’s youngest and worthless son. Most still believed he had initiated the rustling. “Yancy did it. Judge was covering for him.” How many times had he heard that?

  “Get that mare!” Reed yelled at him.

  Yancy jerked the reins and headed toward the errant horse. A pretty buckskin, she’d bring in a good amount. He galloped close to her, and she kicked out, hitting his paint square in the ribs. His horse floundered and went down.

  Rolling, Yancy escaped the flailing legs of his injured horse. On foot now, he ran at the side of the herd, shooting his gun and swinging his arms. The scared horses ran from him and into the temporary fence that he and Reed had rigged up on the open side of the u-shaped bluff.

  Reed shut the gate and then rode toward him. “You all right?”

  Yancy didn’t answer but ran to his horse. The animal was just getting to its feet. He grabbed the reins and ran a hand down the black and white gelding’s bloody side. With a grimace, Yancy talked to him softly to calm him while he unsaddled him.

  Leading his horse, Reed walked toward him. “His lungs sound raspy?”

  Yancy shuddered. The paint gelding was the last thing he had to remind him of his father and the Box X. He sucked in a breath and leaned his head against the horse’s side. “Clear.” Relief flooded him. Childish, he knew, but when a man loses most everything, he grabs hold of what he’s got left.

  Reed nodded toward the bluff that acted as the back of their corral. “You’ll have to hitch a ride with me back to the ranch.”

  Yancy stared at the paint.

  “The fence will hold the herd until we get back. Let’s go.” Reed mounted his big, black horse and held his foot out of the stirrup.

  Yancy took Reed’s hand. He’d not wanted any help from the man, but because of the past, Yancy owed him a year of hard work. He swung up behind Reed. He admired the former sheriff of Bluebonnet. Yet at the same time, he blamed him for his father’s death.

  Yancy knew it wasn’t a fair assessment and that the judge’s heart had given out, but after all the losses and disappointments, he needed someone to blame. Yet, he knew he was the reason for his father’s disappointment. Yancy had been wild. Yeah, if he was honest, he’d caused his father’s heart failure as much as losing the ranch had.

  Reed and his wife, Nettie, had been nothing but kind to him, but they didn’t understand. While his father had mourned the passing of Mother and Yancy’s five brothers, he never gave Yancy a chance to mourn, but immediately saddled him with all the hopes and dreams the old man had held for six sons.

  The picture of his injured horse brought stinging, embarrassing tears to his eyes. Who cried over a horse? What he needed was Amelia at his side. Why she’d taken up with Justin, he couldn’t understand.

  A cold north wind split his thoughts. He needed to get his horse to the barn to care for him. He tapped Reed on the shoulder.

  “Take me back to the paint. I’ll walk him to the ranch. The weather’s going sour.”

  Reed stopped his horse. “I’ll bring you another mount.”

  “I can’t leave my horse. He’s all I’ve got left.” Raw feelings choked the rest of his words. There was no way he’d let Reed see what a sad mess he’d become.

  “I’ll see if anyone is around to help drive the herd to the ranch.” With a kick, he galloped away.

  Yancy walked back to his horse.

  The animal stood where they’d left him.

  “Hey boy, come on, let’s go. Need to get you into a warm barn.”

  Despite his pain, the paint nickered at him and raised his head.

  After putting on the bridle, Yancy pulled and got the animal to take a few steps. “That’s it, let’s keep going.” But the horse was clearly in too much pain.

  Yancy petted the horse’s soft nose. “I can’t lose you, boy. Don’t go down.” Eyeing the landscape, he led the barely walking horse to the corral where the bluff would block the north wind.

  He went to retrieve his saddle, blanket, and canteen. The hard north wind blasted him. Yancy kicked at a rock. Everything was against him. Life had lost its fun. After reaching the horse, he gently put the blanket over the paint and removed the bridle. Yancy took off his hat and poured water from his canteen for the horse.

  The paint dipped his nose and drank.

  “You’re not giving up, are you?” He rubbed the horse’s ears.

  After some time, he heard hoof beats and saw four horses and three riders coming toward him. Reed must have found some help.

  Surprise hit him when he saw that one of the riders was Nettie. Another was a man he’d never seen before.

  Reed shook out some blankets. “I see you thought the same thing we did. This ought to keep him warm during the storm.”

  Nettie jumped down and ran toward him. “I’m so sorry, but glad you’re not hurt. I have some liniment and willow bark. Thought if we could get the horse to drink, he might not hurt so bad. And of course, we brought you another jacket.”

  The stranger stayed on his horse.

  Yancy pointed at him. “And who are you?”

  “Wilbur Williams. Just rode in today and was just about to leave when Mr. Andrews rode up.”

  Yancy slipped a stare to Reed.

  He shrugged. “You can stay here with the horse, or ride the bay mare back to the ranch.”

  “I’ll stay with the paint.”

  Reed nodded at Nettie.

  She put her hands to her hips in disgust. “Oh, you men all stick together. I brought you some food, Yancy. And some grain for the horse.”

  “Thank you, all. Can you get the herd back to the ranch?”

  Reed nodded. “Between the three of us, we should be able to. I told Nettie to stay home. You can see what influence I have over my wife.”

  She tugged on her husband’s arm. “Yancy, you just take care of yourself and your horse. I’ll be praying for you and the paint. God loves all his creation.”

  Yancy tipped his hat. “Thank you, ma’am.” He held little hope that God, if there was one, cared a bit where he was concerned. But he’d never do anything to hurt Nettie.

  Reed mounted. “Nettie, I want you to ride Socrates behind the herd. Don’t go after any strays. Just holler to keep them going. Understood?”

  She saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  He shook his head. “Let’s go.”

  Yancy followed them, opened the gate to the makeshift corral, and waved his hat at the horses. Soon, he was alone with the paint and his thoughts. He needed someone.

  He needed Amelia.

  Chapter 4

  Amelia dusted the cans of beans while replaying the picnic with Justin. He had the warmest brown eyes. She sighed. He’d kissed her today. Her first. She’d remember it for as long as she lived.

  She closed her eyes and relived the moment. The cool breeze playing with her hair. The mockingbirds calling out. A hawk screeching in the blue sky. And then he put his hand under her chin, tilted her head just so, and—

  “Did you put those jars of jam out like I asked?”

  Eyes wide-open, Amelia prayed her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Yes, Mama. The bolts of cloth, too. There are some beautiful colors this time.”

  Her mother rounded the corner and smiled at her. “That’s my daughter, always a step ahead.” She hugged her. “I’m going to go and fix dinner. You stay and help your father.”

  Amelia nodded. Thank goodness, people can’t read minds. She went to the back of the store and continued dusting the ever-present film of dirt from the goods. The bell over the door dinged, and she wondered who had come to get supplies, hoping it might be Justin.

  “Gracy, I need a jar of pickled eggs and blackberry jam.”

  Amelia cringed at the cranky, gravelly voice. Old Cornie Eustus. That was one customer she didn’t want to help.

  “Mrs. Clark, I thought you’d like to know what I witnessed today.”

  Amelia held out her duster and mimicked Cornie. How her m
other could be so cordial to the old bag was beyond her.

  “Oh, what is that, Cornelia?”

  Gossip, it was Cornie’s specialty. Not sure that it was a good report on her own character, but Amelia couldn’t help but want to strain to listen.

  “You can call me Cornie, everyone else does.”

  “I just thought you might like to be called by your proper name.”

  ‘Gracy’ so fit her mother. There could never be another woman as gracious as her Mama. Even from the back of the store, Amelia could hear Cornie huff.

  “It concerns your Amelia.”

  The breath left her as her cheeks fired hot.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. I saw her and the sheriff out in the field behind the town under the big oak in the meadow.”

  Amelia felt ill.

  “And is that a crime? I think if the sheriff was with her, she was well protected.” Some of the graciousness had fallen from Mother’s tone.

  “It’s not proper for a man and young woman to be unchaperoned. I would think you and Gary would want to know before something regrettable happens.”

  The old bat. If she hadn’t felt so guilty, Amelia would have gone out there and given her a what for. Whatever that was. Papa said it all the time.

  “Thank you for caring, Cornie. Will that be all?”

  “Yes.”

  Amelia wished she could crawl into a hole. The door dinged and by the heavy stomps, Cornie was leaving. One-two-three—

  “Amelia. Come here this instant. Gary, will you come to the counter?”

  With dread weighing her steps, Amelia trudged to the front of the store. One look at Mama’s face was enough to know that trouble was coming her way. And on the same day as her first kiss.

  “Amelia, I assume you heard Miss Eustus?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Father came from the back. “What is it, Gracy?” His eyes lit as his gaze fell on her. “Amelia, how’s my little flower?”

  Mother stomped her foot. “She is not little, Gary. Amelia, tell your father what you did for lunch today.”

  “Well, as you know it was a beautiful day. Even though there are dark blue clouds coming our way, it was too nice to eat inside. So I went to the meadow behind town.”