Kathryn Albright - Wedding At Rocking S Ranch

Beside him, the new Mrs. Stewart sniffled. She fumbled with the drawstring on her reticule. “Drat,” she mumbled in exasperation, searching for something inside.

He stopped the horse, giving her a chance to find what she was looking for. A second later she withdrew a handkerchief and dabbed at the moisture in her eyes.

Was she crying about a house? He’d never figure out women...

She caught his look and turned away from him.

Guess he hadn’t treated her all that well. Whatever was going through her head about the ranch didn’t matter. It was none of his business. What did matter was that it wasn’t the way to honor his friend’s memory. For whatever reason, Doug had chosen this woman to wed, which meant Wolf should at least treat her with respect. “What’s wrong?”

She sniffled again and looked back at the house. “I wish my parents were here. They said his house would be a hovel—a dirt hut. And that his cattle were likely mangy. And that his property would be mud and dirt and not nearly enough to survive on. They should see this. It is beautiful.”

She turned back to him. “Why would he do that? Why would he purposely lead them—and me—to believe those things when they weren’t true? He even called it a farm.”

Her question took him off guard. It painted her in a different light—one that was softer than he had first suspected. A bit more vulnerable...and maybe a bit more innocent. At least he knew for sure that she hadn’t married for money now. It was Doug who had tricked her instead of the other way around.

“The joke is on both of us, Mrs. Stewart. You didn’t marry Doug for his property.”

“Of course not. I didn’t know he had much.”

“Telling you all those tales was his way of making sure it was him you wanted and not his money.”

She sniffled again. “I suppose you are right. He constantly surprised me. That’s one of the things I loved about him.” She drew in a shaky breath. “How I wish he were here with me now.”

“He is here. His spirit is here.”

He snapped the reins, urging the horse on. Another few minutes and he pulled the animal to a stop at the front steps. He jumped down and strode around to her side of the rig. After a second’s hesitation, she let him assist her to the ground. His hands spanned her waist easily, and when she landed, he felt a slight tremble flow through her.

She darted a glance his way and then stepped quickly back from him, squaring her shoulders.

But that look had revealed a thing or two. She wasn’t as sure of herself as she tried to act.

Before he could ponder on it further, Barker strode out onto the porch. His clothes were a cut above what Wolf had seen him wear in the past. Had he taken to wearing his Sunday clothes all the time? Or had he seen them coming down the lane and cleaned up for Mrs. Stewart’s arrival?

“This is Mrs. Douglas—” Wolf began.

“I know who she is.” Barker interrupted him. An ingratiating smile inched up the older man’s face as he came down the front steps. “A pleasure, Mrs. Stewart. We’ve been busy getting things ready for your arrival. I’m Cleve Barker, the manager here at the Rocking S.”

Barker’s attitude took Wolf by surprise. Courtesy was not part of the man’s makeup, which immediately put Wolf on alert. Yet Mrs. Stewart seemed won over by the foreman, answering his greeting with a relieved smile. Wolf frowned at that. Barker’s graciousness was likely insincere, but it sure made his own greeting less than hospitable. Guess he could have been more welcoming.

“Then I suspect I shall have to forgive you for not meeting me at the train,” Mrs. Stewart said.

“Oh, I knew Wolf here would see to your transportation. Or the sheriff. Or any number of others in town. We have been preparing for your stay here ever since receiving your letter. I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am. A sad day indeed for all of us here when we learned of Doug’s passing. Particularly for me, seeing as how he was my cousin.”

Her smile—the first Wolf had seen—revealed dimples. “Douglas mentioned that you are related.”

“Second cousins. His mother’s side. Which means that you must call me Cleve. We are family now too.”

Wolf pressed his lips together, skeptical of this side of the man. Barker oozed an oily kind of charm that put Wolf on edge.

Mrs. Stewart allowed Barker, his hand on the small of her back, to escort her up the steps to the porch. He opened the door for her. “Come right in.”

When Wolf would follow, Barker stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “I can take things from here.” His hard gaze challenged Wolf to say otherwise.

Wolf didn’t like this. Something didn’t sit well with him about the entire situation. “I figured I’d carry up her trunk.”

Barker looked over Wolf’s shoulder to the buggy. “Leave it on the porch. My men can bring it inside later.” He didn’t budge, still blocking Wolf’s path.

His men? Wolf knew Barker wanted the ranch. Once he had learned Doug wasn’t coming back, he’d wasted little time changing things around the place to suit him. But the fact remained it was Mrs. Stewart’s property. At that thought, an uneasy feeling settled in his bones. Was he leaving her with a snake in a snake pit?

Mrs. Stewart stood at the bottom of the stairs, ready to ascend, her hand on the railing.

“Ma’am? You sure about this?” he called out over Barker’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, Mr. Wolf. I do thank you for bringing me here and your help with my luggage.”

Guess there wasn’t much more he could do, no matter his unease with the situation. He tipped his hat to her and turned back toward the buggy.

As he hoisted the trunk to his shoulder and then deposited it on the porch, he couldn’t get his mind off the situation and the vulnerable look he’d seen in her eyes when he’d helped her down from the buggy. It was that look that made him hesitate about leaving her here.

Barker didn’t want him around, that much was obvious, but that had always been the way between them. When Barker had arrived looking for work, he hadn’t liked that Doug turned to Wolf for advice about the ranch instead of him. Wolf had been a part of this ranch since the beginning, but Barker didn’t care about the history between Doug and Wolf. He figured that family came first—no matter how loose the tie. And he knew how to work that connection with Doug. The man might be several years older and rough around the edges, but since Doug had no family around, he wanted Barker to stay.

Barker had worked as a ranch hand before he’d come to find work at the Rocking S. A few decisions he’d made at the beginning made it obvious to both Doug and Wolf that he didn’t have the experience to be a foreman. He needed overseeing until he wised up. That’s why, when Doug left for the East, he’d asked Wolf to check in on the place every now and then and especially to be there at the stockyards when the cattle were sold. Doug figured that with more experience and instruction, Barker would eventually learn the ropes.

Barker took instruction from Doug, but when it came to Wolf, from day one the man turned a deaf ear. Doug knew it but figured it would eventually work its way out between the two of them. Doug, always the optimist. But once his cousin left for the East, Barker changed—moving into the big house and helping with less of the physical work. By the time everyone learned of Doug’s passing, Barker acted as though he owned and ran the entire operation.

In the year that Doug had been gone and knowing Barker like he did now, Wolf wouldn’t put it past him to step right in, pretending to comfort Mrs. Stewart in her grief and while he was at it, take what he wanted while she was at her most vulnerable. That could be the ranch. That could be her. Likely it would be both.