by Caroline Lee
And then, when she’d been fifteen, and ready to start thinking about her future as a wife and mother, her own mother had died shortly after bringing another baby girl into the world. She’d miscarried several times, and this last pregnancy had taken its toll. Little Annie was weak and fragile, and not expected to last longer than her mother, but she did. Molly and Papa had to work long hours at the bakery, and Wendy helped take care of the baby. But at three years old, Annie caught the German Measles from a neighbor boy, and passed it to her sisters. They all recovered, but the high fever had left precious, delicate Annie mostly deaf.
Even then, Molly hadn’t been sure if Papa could handle such a blow, not with his struggle to support his daughters and his bakery. Those years had not been easy, and they grew harder still, when the Great Chicago Fire took their father and livelihood away. Annie had been sick, and Molly was home tending her, the day the bakery went up in flames. Papa hadn’t escaped.
The three of them coped as well as they could, but Wendy, at ten, was too young to work, and Molly had to keep her well-supplied with the books she loved and the medicine Annie always seemed to need. She’d spent four long years cooking breakfasts and luncheons at a hotel, and fending off the advances of the male guest. She’d been let go several months before after an altercation with a guest who grew angry when she didn’t want to accommodate his baser desires. Without references, she’d been unable to find another job in Chicago. They had enough money saved to pay two more month’s rent for Wendy and Annie, and Molly’s journey to find work elsewhere. She’d hoped that someplace among the cities of the West, where society was just forming, she’d be able to find work doing what she loved.
But no, it seemed that even here, she was going to have a difficult time earning money. There were plenty of female cooks, but they were all old enough to be someone’s grandmothers, and looked it too. Molly briefly wondered if she became fat and jolly, would that help her gain the work she wanted? Apparently the only thing someone of her age was good for was marriage—or more unsavory arrangements.
Molly would not be marrying, not just to find a place in the world. She knew she was too tall, too large all over, to appeal to a man. Why, she was taller than many of the men she saw in the street, and she was used to the stares. Her mother had been tall, and her father must have been even taller, because she often met men she thought she could lift under one arm. No, there’d be no marriage for her, and no whoring either.
She’d find a job! She had to.
She’d originally thought to focus on only those establishments selling food, but after multiple rejections she started asking at every storefront, in case they were hiring help. Most turned her down immediately, but the pause some store clerks gave before shaking their heads told her that they might have been hiring, but wouldn’t hire her.
The last establishment, a storefront that apparently sold leather goods—as if Molly had any idea what to do with leather after it came off the cow!—had been like that. And now there was only one more left on this street, before she crossed to the next. It had been a long day, with the wind biting through her jacket, plucking at her bonnet and pulling at her simple arrangement of curls. She was tired, and wanted to return to the hotel to nurse a cup of tea and sulk; but she had to press on, to find a place for the winter.
She stopped in front of the final store, to read the large billboard announcing “Jn. A. Bullard and Sons’ Dry Goods”. She sighed briefly, and then straightened her back, plastered a polite smile on her face, and pushed through the door, making the little bell tinkle happily.
The whole place was decorated for Christmas, and Molly felt a pang of regret. They hadn’t truly celebrated Christmas since the Fire, and it hadn’t been the same since Mama had passed away. But just the smell of the boughs hanging from the rafters and the cinnamon tucked between the holly berries lifted her spirits. It was a hopeful sign, a happy sign. Maybe this year would be the one, after all, in which her sisters were able to celebrate Christmas. Did they even remember how to celebrate?
A smaller voice wondered; did she?
Chapter 3
Ash passed his brother another tin of peaches. Nate frowned at it, but tucked it into the basket he carried anyway. Ash couldn’t blame him; he was getting sick of canned food too. The two of them had a long conversation over breakfast that morning, and Ash figured they’d reached an accord. They’d stopped arguing at least, and seemed to be taking steps to forgive and forget. Nate had been almost surprised to witness Ash’s anger at his departure, but then got defensive. It took a good long while for the fool to figure out that Ash was so angry because he’d been terrified of the things that could have happened to Nate, alone in Cheyenne. His younger brother shut up after that.
It was then that Ash realized he’d never told Nate that he was more than just some kid he’d taken care of all those years. Ash viewed Nate as his brother, and loved him. And so, in a conversation as awkward as anything either had experienced, he’d told Nate that. And now they were pretending that conversation—and the argument that had preceded the whole thing—had never happened. They were back to their companionable silences, and being able to communicate entire conversations with just a word or two. After years of living together, Ash hadn’t realized how attuned they were to each other, until the rift formed. It was nice to have his kid brother back.
It’d been after noon by the time they got all that worked out, and it’d be silly to head out into the weather that late in the day, when it’d be well after dark when they got home. So they opted to spend another night in town, and spend the afternoon running errands. Ash stopped in to let Doc Sanderson check out his arm, and now they were doing some shopping. They had to replenish the dry goods they were eating through so quickly, and Ash knew that they were eating through his savings at the same rate. Nate left him at the pallets of canned foods, and went to go ogle the candy selection.
Bullard’s place was all decked out for the season, but Ash didn’t pay the decorations much attention. He never really had, not being one to make a big deal out of Christmas. He hadn’t done anything to celebrate until Nate came along, and since then their only celebration had been to head into town—weather permitting—for the Christmas sermon and a good meal. But Nate seemed interested in the festive decorations, and Ash wondered if the kid was looking to do up their place likewise.
He was mulling over the collection of ready-made clothes, hoping his backup long johns would make it through another season, when a gust of wind and the tinkling of the door chimes heralded another customer’s arrival. Old man Bullard was in the back, checking on his selection of jerky for Ash. There was no one else to take the newcomer’s order, and Ash figured they’d leave again soon enough.
So when he rounded the table and moved on to the next aisle, the last thing he expected was to come face-to-face with a weary-looking Miss Molly Murray. The crisp gray wool outfit she’d looked so fine in that morning was bedraggled, with slush around the hem. Her hair was coming loose from the bun she’d fashioned, and those little wispy curls floating at her temples and base of her neck made her more approachable.
And Ash very much wanted to approach her. As someone who’d spent his life happily secluded on his ranch, he was surprised to discover how much he wanted to get to know Miss Murray. She was beautiful, and obviously had guts. Coming all this way from Chicago—Nate had told him she didn’t know anything about the west—had been brave, but then standing up to him when he was so angry? That’d really impressed him, even if he hadn’t let her ire distract him from saying his piece to his wayward brother.
She was brave, alright, but particularly fine-looking too. He didn’t have much use for most women, them being so much smaller than him. He’d been with a few here and there, but always worried he’d hurt them. And well-brought-up young ladies took one look at him, with his height and breadth, and what Nate called his “scary face”, and crossed the street rather than pass by him.
But Miss Molly M
urray was another matter. She had the guts to yell at him, and she came up past his chin. Why, he wouldn’t have to bend down very far at all to kiss her, and he’d been thinking that more than once since they officially met this morning. She wasn’t rail-thin, either, like some of the young misses in town. No, she had enough to her that he knew she wouldn’t blow over in a stiff breeze, and that she’d be a handful for any man lucky enough to bed her. Exactly the kind of woman Ash enjoyed looking at…. and kissing, come to think of it.
She had thick brown hair, and wide brown eyes that reminded him of hot coffee with fresh milk. And Lord help him, she had dimples that showed up in her round cheeks at even the slightest smile. He’d always liked dimples.
Yep, Molly Murray could surely disrupt his way of life, if he let her. And he found that he just didn’t care.
So he was smiling when he bobbed his head in greeting. “Howdy, ma’am. Have any luck today?”
Her shoulders slumped further. “No, nothing. Not a single establishment in this town appears to be hiring cooks, or even a maid or stockgirl. I am perfectly capable, despite my age, but no one seems to be willing to give me the chance!” He liked the way she forced her back straight again, and stuck out her chin stubbornly. “I want to ask at this store; perhaps the owner needs seasonable help?”
Ash shook his head. “Sorry ma’am. Old man Bullard has three sons, two daughters, and a daughter-in-law. He and his wife have plenty of help around the store.”
She sighed, and for one moment the determined mask slipped, and he caught sight of the despair and hopelessness in her eyes, before she plastered a small grin back onto her face. “Well, then, I’ll cross this establishment off my list. I believe I have time to ask in a few more stores, before it’s fully dark.”
Not ready to let her leave yet, Ash said, “What kind of work are you willing to do?”
“Anything, really. I’ve the most experience with baking, but I’m an excellent cook, and love to do it. I can work as a maid, or seamstress, or wait on customers.”
And suddenly, Ash was struck with the perfect solution to his problems. He needed another set of hands out on the ranch, and she needed some kind of work. “How about housekeeping?”
“I’ve been keeping my own house since I was sixteen. Why, do you know anyone who needs a housekeeper?” Her eyes had lit up with excitement, and those dimples were back. There was no way Ash was going to disappoint her now.
“We could use some help out at the ranch.” Her mouth formed a little “oh” of surprise, and he hurried through his explanation. “I busted my arm pretty badly about a month ago. Doc Sanderson had to actually cut it open to reset it, and he says I can’t use it again for at least another month. We’ve been scraping by, but the house is a mess, and,” he glanced around, making sure his brother was out of earshot, “Nate can’t cook for sh—” He cleared his throat. “He can’t cook very well.” When she started worrying her lower lip, thinking about his offer, he continued. “I can’t promise the job’d be much good past the thaw, because I should be healed up by then. But if you’re looking for a place to spend the winter, we could use an extra hand. In fact, I’m not sure if we’ll make it through the winter without someone else out there to help.”
She was quiet for a long minute, and he found himself holding his breath. She was idly stroking the material under her hand, and staring at his chin. Finally, she met his eyes. “Would I have my own room?” Ash nodded. They could rearrange the loft, and hang up a quilt or two for privacy. “So room and board are included. Hmmm.” Another long thoughtful pause. “What salary are you offering?”
Ash swallowed. He didn’t rightly know what housekeepers were paid. “Listen, I can pay you, but this arm has cost me a lot.” His years hunting buffalo had made him a pile of money, and his way with the wild mustangs they caught and trained had made him wealthier still. But he’d had to use a lot of his savings over the last month, paying for goods they wouldn’t normally have to buy. “But if you’re getting room and board, what kind of salary are you expecting?”
She watched her draw herself up, all business now that negotiations were underway. “Enough to pay the rent at a boarding house in town for my sisters.”
Ash was so surprised, he snuck a glance behind her, looking for these sisters she claimed to have. She must have seen him do it, because she actually smiled. She looked like she might have been laughing at him, and he didn’t mind one bit. He was too busy enjoying the way those plump cheeks dimpled and those coffee-brown eyes lit up.
“My sisters are still in Chicago, but will be joining me here shortly. That’s why I needed to find a job so quickly. We’re interested in making a new start, so I came out first to make sure I could support them.”
“How many sisters are we talking about, here?”
Another one of those smiles, and he found himself smiling back. “Wendy is thirteen, and Annie is seven. Truthfully, I’m uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Annie here in Cheyenne while I’m at your ranch. She—isn’t well.” Why the hesitation there? “But your offer is the only one I’ve received all day—the only respectable offer, that is—so I shouldn’t turn it down.”
“What Annie has isn’t catching, is it?” Molly shook her head, and he shrugged. “Well, bring them along too.”
Her eyes snapped up to meet his in disbelief. He almost winced. He was a man who valued his privacy, but they needed help on the ranch, at least through the winter. Things were precarious enough that he’d gladly take on three more mouths, if it meant they could work to keep themselves alive. Besides, he’d get to have the fascinating Miss Murray on hand. So he nodded. “If you three can share a room, and you’re willing to take room and board for all of you in exchange for an outrageous salary, I’ll hire you.”
There was barely any hesitation when she stuck her hand towards him. He wrapped his large hand around hers, and was surprised and pleased to feel the calluses under his fingers. Here was a woman who wasn’t afraid of hard work. Exactly the kind he admired.
“You have yourself a deal, Mr. Barker.”
Nate chose that time to show back up, carrying a new hat. “Whatdya think?” He cocked it over one eye, and struck a manly pose. “Also, what deal?”
“You look like an idiot. And Miss Murray is our new housekeeper.”
Nate snatched the hat off his head, and shot Ash a look that asked him if he was serious. Ash nodded, and Nate looked disapproving for a moment, before that wry little grin returned, and he nodded towards Miss Murray. “That’s great! It’ll be nice to have someone else around for a change.”
Ash didn’t have to ask what his brother’s disapproval was about, he knew. A young, unmarried lady like Molly Murray out on his ranch, all winter? Even if nothing happened between them, the townsfolk would talk. Her reputation would likely be in tatters, and Ash couldn’t even make himself care.
He looked down at their hands, still clasped, and was surprised to find his thumb making unconscious circles against the smooth skin on the back of her hand. And she wasn’t making any move to pull her hand away, just making small talk with Nate about the ranch. It felt natural to Ash, to be holding her hand like this. To be holding her.
He smiled, and had to chuckle at himself. It got her attention, and he heard the way her breath hitched when she looked up at his face. He didn’t know why, but he had his hopes.
“Finish up here, Nate, and tell Bullard to put it on our tab. We’re taking Miss Murray out to dinner tonight, to seal the bargain.” And he’d get the chance to learn all about his new housekeeper.
Chapter 4
And thus, the very next afternoon, Molly was on her way to Ash Barker’s ranch. She was conflicted about this; part of her thought it rash and dangerous, to take a stranger up on his offer of employment, and to travel to his home, miles from civilization. But the other part of her—the part that ultimately had won—remembered that during days of searching in other towns, and all day yesterday, she’d been turned down by every
shop and establishment. Ash and his brother were the only ones who’d been willing to hire her. And besides, Ash was a little scary-looking at first, but she couldn’t deny that she was utterly fascinated by him, and the gentle look in those soft ash-gray eyes. She’d be traveling to his home, and would be seeing him every day. Surely she’d settle into a routine, and her breath wouldn’t catch every time she met his eyes?
Dinner the night before had been a revelation. He might be intimidating, but he had a way of setting her at ease, without ever once smiling or cracking a joke, the way most other men did when they wanted a woman to like them. Instead, he asked about her family, about her past, and seemed genuinely interested in her stories. And in return, he answered her questions about the ranch and how the two brothers had become a family.
She saw the way Nate treated him, like an older brother who would never harm him, and grew bold enough to ask after their disagreement the day before. To her surprise, Ash explained part of it, and Nate took up the story after. Neither slighted the other, and both accepted responsibility for their role in the argument. Molly was impressed; how often had she and her sisters bickered, and afterwards refused to see their own stubbornness as the cause?
They’d discussed logistics of her employment, and what supplies they had at the ranch. She asked after their Christmas traditions, and was surprised when they both admitted to having none. When she pushed them, she saw Nate’s wistful look, and decided then and there that this Christmas would be special. Wendy and Annie would have their first real Christmas celebration in years, and Nate could experience something every boy should know; the wonder and joy of the holiday season.