The Rancher’s Devout Bride

by Maya Stirling

  Finally, the meal was over and they all moved to the sitting room. Outside, the light was fading and inside the sitting room, lamps were lit. They cast a warm glow throughout the room. Jake sat on his favorite chair by the empty fireplace. Emma sat across from him on the chair normally reserved for Matilda. The children sat on the carpet in front of Emma's chair. They kept on talking, much like they'd done throughout the meal. Every once in a while, Bethany or Clara would glance up at Emma as if seeking some kind of instruction.

  Jake wasn't sure whether he should be pleased or worried when Grace and his mother left the sitting room, claiming there were urgent matters that needed attending in the kitchen. They declined Emma's offer to help them. Jake was sure he saw a mischievous look in Grace's eyes as she left the room.

  Bethany lifted her head and peered at Jake. "What do you do when you work on the ranch?" she asked abruptly.

  Taken aback, Jake stretched and thought for a moment. "Different things, I guess. There's cattle to take care of. And fences that need fixing. And a hundred other little jobs I never seem to stop doing."

  "Are you a cowboy?" Clara asked.

  His brows lifted. "I don't know, really." He peered at Clara. "Depends what you mean by cowboy."

  Clara's eyes widened. "Do you get to chase rustlers off your land? And hunt for robbers? Or ride in the sheriff's posse?"

  Jake laughed and glanced at Emma. "You been reading them bedtime stories?" he asked.

  "They do their own reading," Emma confessed and shrugged. "I suppose whenever they've gotten their hands on something to read in the past, they've just devoured it."

  Jake thought there was something odd about Emma's choice of words. He figured someone with her obvious level of education would have read to the children from since they'd been young.

  Emma shifted in her seat. She leaned forward and peered intently at the children. "Why don't you go to your room, girls," she suggested.

  For a moment, Jake thought to object. Something about being with Emma and the children had given him a surprisingly warm and comforting feeling. It wasn't a sensation with which he was familiar and he wondered where it had come from. Normally he'd run as fast as he could rather than be near children. Maybe bringing them to Inspiration had awakened something in him. Some domestic impulse. That thought ignited a flare of worry in his middle.

  Both girls looked disappointed at not being able to stay with the grownups. There was clear displeasure written on their features. But, as ever, they accepted obediently, and marched out of the sitting room.

  Now he was alone with Emma, Jake felt really awkward. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands, searching his mind for something smart to say. For her part, Emma sat calmly, looking thoughtfully at the fireplace, as if awaiting Jake's next words.

  Struggling to think of something, anything that would break the silence, Jake spoke: "It sounds like you and the girls had a good time in town, today."

  Her gaze steadied upon him. "We met someone while we were there."

  "Really? Who?"

  "Sophie Cameron," Emma announced.

  Jake swallowed. So that was why she'd been looking at him like that all evening, Jake told himself. She'd been talking to Sophie. And he could guess what they'd been gossiping about.

  "She seems friendly," Emma said casually.

  Jake nodded and said nothing. He'd already guessed where this might be leading. "She's been a good friend to the Buchanans for years. And Nathan, her husband, has been a fine sheriff for this town."

  Emma nodded, acknowledging Jake's carefully evasive comments about the Camerons. It wouldn't do him any good to talk about Sophie's other, more neighborly, activities. Like finding wives for the men of Inspiration. Especially the reluctant ones, Jake reflected.

  Jake examined Emma. Once again, she was finding the fireplace unusually interesting, he told himself. Emma seemed to be holding back from saying something. She looked like she was trying to decide whether or not to introduce some topic to the discussion. Jake's heart quickened. Maybe it was time for him to vacate the room, he thought abruptly.

  Emma cleared her throat and gazed steadily at Jake. "Sophie did mention something I thought was quite interesting," she said.

  Jake's brows lifted. "Is that so?"

  Emma's eyes brightened. "She said that someone new was coming to town." Her head lowered slightly, she peered at Jake from beneath thick lashes. "A young woman who's coming to find a husband."

  Now Jake's heart was racing faster than a galloping stallion. He schooled his features, determined to mask any reaction to this line of questioning. Because that was what it felt like. As if he was being interrogated. "Sophie did mention something about that a while back," Jake admitted, trying to sound casual.

  "So you know about her," Emma stated. It wasn't a question. More like a confirmation of her previous suspicion.

  "Sure, I know about her," he replied. Had he succeeded in making his voice sound disinterested? He wasn't completely sure, but he knew this conversation was heading into dangerous territory.

  "And the reason she's coming to Inspiration?" Emma asked quietly.

  Jake sighed. He'd already seen plenty of evidence of Emma's determination. And, right now, he was seeing more of it. "Look, Emma. There have been many women who've come to Inspiration over the last few years. Many of them at Sophie's suggestion. Most of them have ended up married. Happily, too, I might add," Jake said. "The town's full of couples enjoying married bliss. Even my cousins have joined in."

  That didn't seem to satisfy Emma. "Do you figure on joining in?" Emma asked.

  Jake felt color flush his cheeks. "I'm surprised you'd ask me that."

  "Why?" Emma shrugged. "Grace seems quite pleased about it."

  "She does?" Jake exclaimed. "Have you and Grace been talking about me?"

  "It is a long trail ride back from town," Emma explained and tilted her head. "Grace and I got to chatting."

  Now she was trying to look all innocent, Jake told himself. Well, there was nothing innocent about trying to arrange a marriage for a reluctant rancher, he told himself. "And I suppose the subject of the conversation was my matrimonial prospects," Jake said leaning forward in his chair.

  Emma's mouth turned down and her brows lifted. "It did come up. Grace isn't sure you're ready to get married."

  Jake drew in a deep breath and dragged a hand through his hair. This whole thing was getting out of hand. "Who said I'm thinking of getting married?" he complained.

  Emma frowned. "I'm only reporting what I heard." She shrugged. "What would I know about any of this? I only just got here."

  Jake exhaled noisily. "There comes a point when a man's private business is his own concern."

  Emma stood up from the chair and swept her gown dramatically. "If you don't want to talk about it, I understand perfectly."

  Jake rose and faced Emma. As she watched him standing up, he couldn't help noticing that her expression had changed slightly. Her cheeks had flushed and her gaze had briefly flickered up and down the length of his tall frame. Was she playing with him? That thought triggered a visceral sensation in his middle. Had this all been some clever ploy to get him to admit to something?

  Emma walked to the window and gazed out at the yard. Jake went to her side. "Arranging marriages keeps some folks busy in this town," he explained.

  "And you don't want to be part of that," Emma stated.

  For a moment, Jake was lost for words. He didn't want to lie. There had been times since moving to Inspiration when the prospect of having a wife, and even a few children, had seemed like an appealing prospect. He'd be lying if he said the idea of settling down wasn't one he found attractive. Maybe God was leading him toward matrimony. Perhaps that was what He wanted for Jake Buchanan. To be just like his cousins, all of whom were enjoying married life. But, something deep down was holding him back from accepting that. Jake felt that barrier inside himself, especially every time the subject came up in conversation.

&n
bsp; A sudden rhythmic thumping sound came from upstairs. Then Jake heard yelling. The girls' voices could cut through walls. Emma frowned and her shoulders became instantly tense. "I have to go up and see what they're doing."

  She moved toward the door. Before she exited the sitting room, she paused and turned to look at Jake. "I understand, Jake," she said evenly. "I really do."

  And then she left the room, leaving Jake wondering why it was that everyone seemed to think they knew what was best for him. Especially when it came to marriage.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Two days later, on the Friday morning, Grace drove Emma into town. On this occasion, the children stayed at the ranch house. Emma figured it would be best not to have them around today. She planned on going to the telegraph office, certain there would be a reply awaiting her. Forty-eight hours had been long enough for the Foundling Society to decide upon a course of action, she told herself.

  Grace and Emma chatted amiably during the drive into town. Emma avoided any mention of her awkward conversation with Jake two nights before. She'd learned one thing from that exchange. Jake Buchanan had no intention of marrying, anytime soon. Of that, Emma was in no doubt. She'd seen plenty of evidence of Jake's reluctance with regard to matrimonial matters. It confirmed what Grace had mentioned to her during the journey from the staging station.

  Of course, Jake had been evasive about the subject of the imminent newcomer to Inspiration. He'd even tried to appear completely disinterested. And maybe that was the truth, Emma told herself. Perhaps, Jake was dead set against the whole idea of marriage.

  Grace had reassured Emma that the young woman heading to Inspiration did not know of Jake's reluctance. Probably just as well, Emma reflected. In any case, it seemed there were plans afoot to try and win Jake around to the idea of matrimony so he'd be more amenable to the notion by the time the newcomer arrived. But, after what she'd seen the other night, she figured it would be an uphill battle to interest Jake in weddings.

  Emma tried to convince herself that she really didn't care what Jake wanted to do. It was none of her business. He'd been helpful to her and the girls, and she was grateful. That was all.

  But, all day yesterday, as she'd reflected on her true opinion of the handsome rancher, Emma had discovered one startling fact. An uncomfortable truth about which she couldn't lie to herself.

  Jake Buchanan was just about the most gracious and kindly man she'd ever met. In spite of efforts to remain aloof from her affairs, something about him had struck a chord deep inside her. And, it wasn't just because he was so singularly good-looking, in a rugged and striking kind of way.

  No. There was so much more to Jake than what lay on the surface. He was decent and honorable, and possessed of a fine character. Her first impressions at the staging station had been confirmed since she and the girls had moved temporarily into the ranch.

  And there was one other thing, even more important.

  Since arriving at the ranch, Emma had heard numerous remarks from his mother, sister and the ranch hands to the effect that Jake's prudent, thoughtful conduct was really a reflection of his faith. Jake was devout, and that was the driving force behind every action she'd seen him take since they'd met.

  Emma's own faith had been tested many times, especially since coming west with the children. Maybe she and Jake had faith in common. Could it be that Jake actually took the whole idea of matrimony so seriously that he wasn't willing to participate in something like an arranged marriage? Something he considered incompatible with his beliefs? Had she, in fact, misjudged him?

  Maybe she'd get a chance to find out this weekend. Emma had already accepted an invitation to attend church this coming Sunday. And she was looking forward to meeting other members of the Buchanan family. Bethany and Clara were also enthusiastic. Back east, at the orphanage, the Foundling Society had encouraged regular church attendance for all children. Emma was pleased that Bethany and Clara liked going to church. It would make this coming Sunday even more enjoyable.

  Finally, Emma and Grace arrived in Inspiration. It was mid-morning and Main Street was busy. Grace drew the buckboard to a halt in front of the telegraph office.

  Emma got down, and clutched her reticule tightly. Unease surged within her as she forced herself to smile up at Grace. "I won't be long." She wondered if Grace had noticed her sudden nervousness.

  Grace nodded and stepped down from the seat. "I'll wait outside."

  Emma was relieved at that. She made her way into the telegraph office. Looking up from behind the counter, the tall, thin, modestly-dressed man she knew to be Mr Tyler smiled in recognition. "Miss Dunbar." He lifted his hand and pointed to a set of wooden pigeon holes on the wall. "I've got something for you."

  Breath caught in Emma's throat and she felt her heart quicken noticeably. She watched Mr Tyler reach up and withdraw a small envelope. He came to the counter and handed it to Emma.

  Emma hoped Mr Tyler hadn't noticed the shaking of her hand as she took the envelope from him. His steady gaze was friendly and blank. He was probably used to seeing customers' concern whenever they received telegrams.

  Emma thanked him and turned away, facing the closed door. Her gloved fingers fumbled with the envelope. She was sure the telegram would be from Mr Grover, the director of the Foundling Society. She tugged out the small sheet of paper and peered at the words.

  CONCERNED AT EVENTS YOU DESCRIBED.

  RECOMMEND YOU LEAVE INSPIRATION AND RETURN WITHOUT DELAY TO NEW YORK.

  BRING CHILDREN BACK HERE.

  REGARDS

  MR GROVER

  The words shimmered in her vision. Now her heart was really hammering furiously. Her fingers loosened, dropping the telegram to the wooden floor. Feeling her legs weaken, she reached out and clutched the nearby wooden counter.

  Eyes closed for a moment, she sensed Mr Tyler moving to her side. "Is everything to your satisfaction, Miss Dunbar?" he asked, clear concern in his voice.

  Opening her eyes she saw the honest concern on his features. Emma dragged in a deep breath and lifted a hand to her forehead. "I'm fine, Mr Tyler," she gasped.

  Trying to bend down to pick up the telegram, her head swam suddenly. She almost toppled over, but Mr Tyler supported her as he bent down and lifted the telegram from the floor. As she straightened, Mr Tyler handed her the telegram. Even though she was sure he must have been curious about the content, she noticed Mr Tyler steadfastly avoided even glancing at it. She was relieved by his professionalism.

  "Shall I fetch you a glass of water, Miss Dunbar?" he offered.

  Fixing some stray hairs back into place, and forcing herself to smile at him, Emma shook her head. "That's very kind of you, Mr Tyler. But, no thank you. I'll be going, now."

  Emma thrust the telegram into her reticule and opened the door. Stepping out onto the boardwalk, she was thankful for the blast of cool morning air which swept across her skin. Footsteps still unsteady, she made her way toward Grace who was standing by the side of the buckboard. Trying hard to mask her reaction to the news, Emma forced herself to smile at Grace.

  In spite of her efforts at disguise, Emma saw Grace's brows furrow. "Is everything fine?" Grace asked.

  Emma nodded abruptly. "Absolutely," she declared with as bright a tone of voice as she could summon.