Kathryn Albright - Wedding At Rocking S Ranch

He didn’t answer immediately but then blew out a breath. “You should know that the men at the ranch are hard workers and loyal to the Rocking S. One has lived on the ranch since Doug’s father planted his first fence post back in ’63. He and the others helped make it what it is today.”

“Meaning that I am an outsider? That I am not welcome?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Dismay and hurt swirled inside, making her chest tighten. She hadn’t expected to arrive with fanfare and a welcome party, but she did expect common courtesy. “Doesn’t it mean something that Douglas chose me for his wife?”

Mr. Wolf stared straight ahead.

She huffed out a breath. “Wonderful. So they dislike me already, sight unseen. Even though I married Douglas. Even though I am the new owner of the ranch . Thank you for pointing that out.”

His jaw ticked. “Most people around here judge someone by their actions. Not by who they marry.” He slanted a look at her. “’Course, you jumped at marrying faster than a lot of women would. Five weeks. That’s not much time to get to know someone.”

So that was what was bothering him so! “Do you think I tricked Douglas into marrying me?”

He pressed his lips together, thinning them into a line. He drew back on the reins, stopping the buggy. When he spoke, his deep voice held tempered frustration. “You didn’t come when his body was laid to rest. Why is that? Why did you leave it up to me?”

The full brunt of his animosity startled her. He judged her unfairly. Heat rolled off her as she tried to find the right words. To tell him the full truth would give him the advantage. He would think her a weak woman, and she couldn’t let him or anyone think that. “My reasons are no one’s business but my own!”

She lifted her chin, unable to believe she faced the same cynicism here as she had in Alexandria. She’d hoped it would be different here. She’d hoped to find a small bit of acceptance, yet if Doug’s good friend was suspicious of her motives, how much worse would the men at the ranch be?

He gave a sharp snap to the reins, and the horse and buggy started forward again.

The movement loosened her tongue. “Strange though it may seem to you, where I come from, a woman is judged very much by who she marries. My parents knew nothing of Douglas or his background. They tried to separate us the moment they saw that things were getting serious. They weren’t impressed with him or the small amount of property he possessed. But I trusted him, and for the short time we had together, I cared deeply for him. That is why, when he asked me to do this, I promised that I would.”

The lump in her throat grew twice as big. Her eyes stung with tears. She would die before she cried in front of this soulless rock of a man. She’d thought... She’d hoped that Mr. Wolf would be an ally. A friend. It was obvious that any regard he had for her husband did not extend past him to her.

Perhaps it was best to speak only of the ranch and the property. After all, her true business in being here—to honor Douglas’s request—wasn’t anyone’s business but her own. Once she had control of her emotions, she tried again, but this time, she made the attempt to see things through his eyes. “I suppose if the men have worked at the ranch as long as you say they have, they must be very good at what they do.”

“They are,” he said, his words clipped. He paused but then continued in a quieter voice. “What I’m saying, Mrs. Stewart, is they feel a part of the ranch. It is more than a job to them. It is a way of life. If your purpose for coming here is to sell the land, they’ll have trouble with it.”

She hadn’t given the repercussions of selling much thought. Her plan was to spend a month on the ranch and then focus on getting the ranch off her hands and collecting the money. Now this Mr. Wolf brought up an entirely different side. Would new owners bring their own set of men to run the ranch? Would Douglas’s men be out of a means to make a living?

“Is that what they think? That I’m here only to sell the property?”

“It makes sense. You are from the East. You are from the city. And you are a woman. You know nothing about ranching.” He glanced sideways at her. “You did call it a farm.”

She closed her parasol and set it across her lap. “Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate knowing what I am heading into. Truly, I do.”

When she’d written to Mr. Barker regarding her intent to sell, he had advised her to hold off telling anyone until after they’d taken the cattle to market. They had to have the full number of hired hands to drive her cattle to the stockyards or there could be difficulty. If the experienced men left to find employment elsewhere before that, she could lose a healthy portion of her profits due to having to hire new, possibly inept cowboys. That had been her only concern—or so she thought.

Now Mr. Wolf had completely upended that. There was much more to consider. By coming here, what was she getting herself into?

Chapter Four

Wolf sat rigid, determined not to let anything the woman said sway him. He’d thought that after a year he had worked through this anger, but apparently it still simmered inside him.

He didn’t blame Doug for marrying her. Doug had a big heart—one that had a tendency to jump headlong into things. Over the years, it had gotten him into plenty of trouble—and Wolf right along with him when he jumped in after Doug to pull him out of some of the wilder antics.

He blew out a breath as he thought over the past year. This was something he couldn’t fix or cover up. When Doug had headed east to find a better bull to strengthen his beef stock, he’d asked Wolf to go with him and see the sights. But what did the East hold? There was nothing but cities and smoke and people who would cast curious looks his way. He was better off right here in Oak Grove where people knew him.

He missed his friend, but there was more to it than that. The land was a part of him. He’d walked the land that made up the Stewart ranch his entire life—even before it belonged to Doug’s family. He’d camped there, hunted there and fished there. And once the Stewarts became a part of his life, he’d helped with roundups. He had thought that he would always have the ranch and the surrounding land as a place to go. Doug’s death had thrown everything into confusion. No one connected to the ranch had any idea how long or even if they would continue working there. And he didn’t know how much longer he would be welcome.

This woman had not admitted anything, but he knew in his gut that she would sell the ranch. There was nothing to hold her here—nobody that she knew, no inkling of ranching experience. She would never want to keep up a place this size. By the way she dressed, she obviously came from money. She would head right back East with the first snowstorm of the season.

He pulled on the reins, slowing the horse and buggy as they passed a weathered, whitewashed post.

“This is the northern boundary of the Stewarts’—of your property. That post is the marker. It’s another mile to the ranch house.” He urged the horse on with a sharp whistle of air between his teeth.

They rode the rest of the way in silence. When the outbuildings first came into view, Mrs. Stewart straightened at his side. “This cannot be right,” she murmured.

“This is the Rocking S Ranch... The Stewart ranch.”

“But it’s much bigger than I anticipated. Everything is much bigger. I’m confused.”

He looked over the scene, trying to envision it as a newcomer. The main house was a two-story wooden structure with a large wraparound porch, freshly painted white with dark green trim. Wildflowers, overgrown with weeds, edged the porch. A large stable stood across the dirt drive with the bunkhouse—lodging for the ranch hands—and tucked back behind the house was the cookhouse. The place looked the same to him as it had for the past twenty years. The only real change he could see was the small sapling that Mrs. Stewart had planted in the front yard. The oak tree was now twenty feet high and the only tree in sight for miles.