The Cowboy Takes A Bride

by Jillian Hart

  "Hey!" Stella protested from the couch. "What about me?"

  "It's simple, you're not my favorite."

  "What does it take? Money? Bribery? Maybe some outrageous compliments?" Stella's her eyes twinkled above the rim of the cup.

  "Give me money over compliments," Jada teased, reaching for her cup. "I'm a practical, sensible woman on a budget."

  "So am I." Stella laughed at their old joke, always fun, taking the steaming cup Mindy handed her. "Maybe if I do the supper dishes for you tomorrow, will that do it?"

  "Nope, I fear nothing will." Jada tried to hide her worries with a chuckle, hoping to brighten the mood for her sisters. They would be upset enough through the coming days over their broken lease. "Mindy is always going to be loved more than you."

  "I hope so." Mindy, adorable as could be, smiled as she settled onto the other couch, as graceful as could be. Her bright eyes sparkled. "But you can be my favorite."

  "Great, and I don't even have to pay you." Stella winked, looking lovely with her soft sweet smile. "I can give you an extra compliment or two if you want to make up for it."

  "I never say no to compliments, even non-deserved ones. Jada isn't so good with those, or so I hear."

  "We have definite proof of that from today in the shop," Stella laughed. "Oh, that would be when the handsome sheriff paid her more than one rather grand compliment, and they were very true, by the way."

  "Very true things," Mindy agreed. "I know because I had my ear to the backroom door. Didn't you notice how we stayed out of your way? The cowboy has a good reputation around here. I asked the tailor next-door and everything."

  "Our inquiring minds needed to know," Stella explained.

  "Exactly," Mindy agreed. "The tailor had nice things to say about Mr. Hayden. He works hard and treats folks in town fairly. He's well-liked. Has quite a bit of money. So those are all good things. At least he's not a derelict."

  "Or a laze about. It's probably tough to be when he has those twin boys to raise, too. He looks like a good catch to me."

  "With housecleaning skills." Mindy lifted her cup in a salute. "Impressive, that's what I say, and nice looking, too."

  "Well, why are you both looking at me?" Jada blushed, feeling like her face was overly warm. Yikes, now she felt embarrassed about not disliking the man so much. "It's not as if I have any warm feelings for him at all. Not at all. Okay, maybe a little. And I no longer have a poor opinion of him."

  "That's progress." Stella scooted forward on the cushion.

  "Tell us!" Mindy leaned forward eagerly.

  Jada blinked, surprised at the two of them acting like such clowns. Had they lost their minds? She shook her head with a chuckle, it was so easy to joke. "You two have gone daft, I swear, it. Don't you get hopeful for me, now. Nothing has changed, and Mr. Hayden isn't the man who ever could change it."

  "Oh, I think I've guessed right!" Stella clasped her hands together expectantly, despite holding her teacup. "Did you hear that denial?"

  "I did! And it's finally happened!" Mindy twitched a victorious eyebrow.

  "Nothing! Not one thing has happened. I don't like him!" Honestly! Jada turned beat red. When she crossed her eyes, she could see the end of her nose begin to glow like a strawberry, revealing her true feelings. She was not in denial, but she wasn't about to let herself begin to care. "This is just conjecture on your part. Either that, or you're making it up. Frisco doesn't like me."

  "He does too." Stella waggled her brows.

  "It sounds promising to me," Mindy added.

  "I think Mr. Frisco Hayden's sweet on you and serious." Stella paused to take a sip of tea. "Do you agree, Mindy?"

  "Yes," her favorite, but apparently diabolical, sister answered.

  "Preposterous! Frisco, sweet on me?" That was outrageous. It was good, fun humor on one level, but the secret emptiness in her heart which yearned for love ached, how it ached. "You know how I feel about that man, so your hopes are wasted on me."

  "Our hopes are never wasted with you." Stella gentled, her humor fading away, her eyes wide with caring. "I want the very best for my most favorite sister."

  "Most favorite?" Mindy's eyebrows shot up. "I thought that was me."

  "I lie," Stella joked, making them all burst into laughter.

  Oh, it was good to spend time with her sisters. So good and precious were these moments together. May they never end, Jada wished, with all the hope in her heart. Glad that they might not. That was the best thing about being a spinster. This might be her life for the end of her days. And it was a sweetness she would never wish to part with.

  * * *

  Feeling beat from a long work day, Frisco navigated the downstairs hallway with a book clutched in one hand. Well, things at the livery had not turned out like he'd hoped, he thought ruefully. After leaving Jada's shop, he'd taken the happy-eyed old pony to the livery for some advice on a badly cracked hoof.

  Once Chester spotted the place, the joy slid from his chocolate-brown eyes and his sad, dejected spirit seemed to drain the last light from the day. Only as he was tying up the pony to talk with the livery owner and farrier, did he notice the faint but copious scars from whip lashes on Chester's back and rump from long, long ago.

  The pony, thinking he was not going to be able to keep the boys, seemed to wilt. His nose sagged all the way down to the ground. His heart broke. Nothing was sadder to see. Frisco hung his head and told the boys to go pet and reassure Chester. So what if he wasn't the purebred he wanted for the boys, so what if that was going to be their next birthday present, their own animals? The things he'd seen in his line of work still broke his heart.

  The boys hadn't been able to reassure the pony. Chester sighed as the liveryman had ambled closer and gave a cry, almost human, of anguish. He looked as if the last light in his heart had gone out and it was palpable, that loss and grief. Frisco teared up, no soft-hearted sap, nope, not him, (he was!) but there it was, tears on his cheeks for the liveryman to see.

  So instead of negotiating a price to sell the pony like Chester assumed, despite all reassurance, Frisco had made an appointment for new horse shoes and led the old, worthy pony home. Seeing that hope slowly come back with every step made the day feel brighter again, but he couldn't forget what he'd seen. The pony's heart belonged to the same boys that he loved.

  This was all about his sons, the boys who had rescued a lost soul. Now look at them, happy, quietly sitting on the sofa, heads bent together, whispering excitedly.

  What a good day it had been. Earlier, they'd chosen the best corner box stall for Chester to live in and made up his bed nice and deep with straw and fluffy green hay on top, making it soft. Chester had plopped right down on his side and began eating, nickering his love as the twins sat down with him and just petted him. For hours. What good boys they were.

  "It's Pa!" Aiden spotted him first. Together, they shot straight up off the sofa and landed on their stocking feet.

  Chuckling, he ruffled one head and then the other, leaving their cowlicks in a standing-straight-up mess. "It's bedtime. Upstairs with the two of you knuckleheads. Tomorrow's another good day."

  5

  Finally, they were brushed and washed and tucked into their night clothes, cute as could be, and climbed into their identical twin beds, side by side, like perfect angels. Both boys laid down, stretched out and settled on their backs, with both hands folded and the covers up to their chins. They looked like perfect cherub angels.

  Talk about deceptive, he thought with a grin. They might not be so angelic, but they were good, good boys, and all boy. And they kept him on his toes, and he loved them beyond measure.

  He moseyed in. "Something must be wrong to see you boys acting so perfectly. You're actually in bed on time without me having to remind you ten times. What's going on here? Or am I dreaming?"

  "No, Pa." Aiden studied him with big, serious eyes. His bow-shaped mouth pursed up with emotion. "We're trying real hard to do right from now on."

 
"We really are, Pa," Austin agreed.

  "I see. I know when something is amiss." He eased into the room, trying to hide his amusement. "I'm a former lawman, you know. My sixth sense tells me something is off. It's because you boys got your way over the pony, am I right? You know you did wrong, right?"

  "Uh, we didn't mean to," Aiden gasped, as if short of breath, eyes a little afraid.

  Austin sighed, gave up on the effort and sat straight up in bed. Worry furrowed across his forehead. "We done wrong. We never should of gotten Chester without your permission first. We just ran out of time, that's all. Are you gonna throw us in jail and toss away the key?"

  "It's tempting, since I'm in good with the sheriff. I just might do it. It's my sworn duty to follow the law, and you boys broke it, at least the rules in this house." He towered over the bottom corner of Austin's bed. "You two are prepared to pay the consequences, aren't you?"

  "Y-yes, Pa," Aiden answered earnestly. "We aren't no troublemakers, not either of us."

  "That's right, Pa," Austin agreed, a little worry crinkling around his scrunched up, pleading eyes.

  "So I see." He sat down on the edge of one boy's bed, at the bottom corner, unable to keep his heart still or the grin from spreading across his face. It was a challenge to hold his ground when it came to these two, and boy, did he enjoy that challenge. His heart gave a warm, soft squeeze of pure, true love.

  "From now on, no more buying any ponies. Do I have your boys' word on that?" He used his best lawman voice, it was his best and only weapon when it came to the twins he adored. Not that he was soft on crime or anything, he told himself and did his best to frown, pretending to be stern.

  "Okay, Pa. We won't, I promise," Aiden vowed solemnly.

  "I promise, too." Austin scooted back beneath his covers.

  Since the boys were ready for story time, he flipped open the book to the marked page where he'd left off the night before. He read until the boys' eyes drooped nearly shut and Austin was mostly asleep. He closed the book, kissed both sons on the foreheads before blowing out the lamp. As he stepped into the shadowed hallway, he felt what was lonely in his life. His footsteps echoed in the hall around him as he headed downstairs.

  The fire had died down in the potbelly stove while he'd been up with the boys. He hunkered down to swing open the door and stock it with split dried cedar. He'd been alone in this parenting job a long while now, long before he ever came to town. The boys had been toddlers, keeping both him and his mother on their toes running to keep up to them. And failing, but at least enjoying the experience and were all the better for it.

  He closed the stove's door and rose to his full six foot height, missing those little toddlers his sons had once been. Time ticked away far too quickly, and he couldn't keep his boys little for much longer. They were eight, in a blink they would be in their teens and growing up and, he was hoping, not away from him. It was sweet, being a father, and it was the best part of life.

  And he wouldn't miss it for the world. After landing a few bounties, he'd left law enforcement and claimed land on the wild western frontier. Any real dream was a challenge to make come true, but he had time and money and he'd loved every minute of it. He loved this life of his. He was a cowboy at heart, and a family man.

  Never during the tough years after being betrayed by his wife, the boys had been twenty-six months old at the time, had he noticed a woman like this, not one single time. But Jada Shepherd had come along and changed that. He couldn't say why he smiled to himself as he crossed the parlor and pulled aside the window curtain to check on the night outside. Storm clouds were still heading in, so he let the curtain fall into place and settled into his comfortable chair.

  He hiked his feet up on the ottoman and remembered the way Jada had simply looked amazed that he could clean up a mess on the floor perfectly. He grinned, relaxing in the heat crackling from the fireplace, and reached for his volume of Shakespeare. Thinking of her slender, womanly shape had his blood smoking. She'd been amazing, simply sweet and amused and kind. Definitely, that got to him and hooked him hard in the heart.

  No doubt about it, he was in big trouble, but he had no clue what to do about it. He blew out a sigh, reached for his book and leafed it open to his last read page. He would curse his luck, but he wasn't entirely sure she disliked him. He may or may not have a chance with her, but there had been a hint of a sparkle in her beautiful blue eyes.

  What were the chances that she was interested in a rough and rugged man like him?

  * * *

  "You sure are a sight for sore eyes, Miss Shepherd. You must have suitors lined up around the corner when I'm not looking. Am I right?" Jonathan, the town's newspaper part owner and deliverer, came to a stop on the snow-dusted boardwalk. "Come on, I know I am."

  "You're not even close to the truth, and you know it, kind sir." Jada gave the snow accumulated on the walkway in front of the shop a good sweep with her broom. "Look around. Do you see any men lined up anywhere, even a single one?"

  "No, but there should be. You have to stop chasing the eager men off with your broom." The rather dashing man, tall, dark and handsome, gave her an unaffected grin. He was just a good man handing over the newspaper, rolled up for delivery, doing the job for his father today. Likely, his very beloved father.

  "What? If I stopped chasing off those eager men, then one of them might catch me and I can't have that." Jada shivered, swiping snow from her eyelashes. "I'm an avowed spinster for life. What can I say? I'm not expecting to change that."

  "Well, I know for a fact there was a lot of excitement the day word got out that three beautiful sisters had come to town to join their pa here. Where are your sisters today, helping out in the store?" He glanced, squinting through the window's clean glass trying to spot someone inside.

  "Likely in the back room sewing away. It's quieter there than here in the front of the store and we have an agreement in our lease for quiet and modest behavior. We can get really loud laughing and forget ourselves and get into trouble. The bonus is that when we're in the back, no one can spot us from the boardwalk."

  "Now the truth comes out. You've got a hard, tough landlord. Rumor has it that you had horse trouble in your shop the other day." He knuckled back his hat brim and snowflakes tumbled off.

  So, people around town knew. Word was getting around. She shivered, taking a second to watch the fine, airy white flakes of snow tumble from an ashen sky with the promise of more to come. "A pony, it was a pony, and two little boys who bought him without their father's knowledge. Perhaps there was a legitimately serious reason the pony was so cheap."

  "Probably. Tell me what happened? How did the pony get through the door?"

  "I've been told neither twin opened it. The pony did with his mouth. Perhaps he has very nimble lips." She rolled her eyes, broom in one hand and the newspaper in the other.

  Just what she needed, for one single person in this town to know of her shame. That was the rumor mill for you. What if the next thing circulating on it was that their business was a total failure? A real flop. A woman had her dignity and her pride, and she needed this business to succeed. Oh, how she'd need it. Now, nothing but failure was what she saw. She'd do anything to avoid it and that sick, stomach-dropping feeling of financial ruin.

  Jonathan winced. "Nimble, huh? I once knew a cat that would do it. My ma used to swear he let the chickens in the house on more than one occasion. There they were, escaped from their coop and pen, on the back porch. The next thing we knew, they were in the kitchen and feathers were flying. Any chance I could get an interview?"

  "No! None at all. You go find real news worthy of your father's fine newspaper. We do not need the bad press, trust me." Jada granted him her best smile, the one that let him know that she liked that he cared, but she saw no real point in it, not with her past and reputation. Plus, their income here was at an end unless they could find another affordable space to move into, and this was the about cheapest, so probably they were out of luck. Sh
e grabbed the door handle and swished across the threshold. "How about I get you to some of the chocolate cookies you like best? My treat."

  "You tempt me, but I've got more papers to deliver. You stop giving your cookies away, but your offer does my heart good. I'll see you around, Miss Shepherd." He tipped his hat and stepped away.

  Jada shut the door, shivering since they hadn't renewed their coal order. Now with the sad truth they would be leaving, this was day two of their three day immediate eviction clause according to their contract, it was a moot point. It was going to be colder living in Pa's tent by the creek. Moving here had seemed like such a good idea, such a reprieve from the humiliation she'd been forced to live with since her husband divorced her.

  What I need is a change in my luck, that's all. I'll hope for that. She stowed the broom in the closet by the kitchen door and, hung up her coat and mittens and, with the newspaper clutched tight in one hand, headed toward the empty-feeling sewing half of the shop, where a sofa sat looking out the second wide window at the snow falling with deliberate force and speed.

  If that keeps up, I'll need to go out and sweep again. Either that, or she could sweet talk one of her sisters into doing it. She added that possibility to the to-do list sitting on the little end table next to the sofa. She laid the newspaper down next to it, feeling the heavy weight of trepidation and dread settle like a blacksmith's anvil on her chest.

  "Jada, do you need help?" Stella called out from the back. "I heard the bell above the door ring. That means customer."

  "Nope. It could mean a burglar come to rob you." Jada settled onto corner of the couch closet to the window and relaxed back against the plush cushions.

  This sofa had been a great investment, it was that comfortable. Oh, the years of happy customers she'd hoped would spend time here, delighted with their purchases and enjoying free coffee or tea (and a few hopeful purchased cookies) while they waited.