Laurie Kingery - The Rancher's Courtship

“Please…it’s all I have left, now that he’s gone…”

He said nothing, just stared at her as if trying to think what to say, and she became even more sure she had guessed right. He just didn’t know a polite way to ask for it back.

She wrenched it off her finger and held it out to him, feeling the tears escape down her cheeks, but powerless to stop them. “Here…take it. It properly belongs to you now, to keep for your girls…”

He stared at the gold band with its beautiful pearl while her last words echoed in his ears—to keep for your girls.

He was not now and hoped he never would be so low as to take such a thing from a bereaved woman. And Caroline Wallace was bereaved, he realized, just as he was. The fact that she was still wearing black and the haunted look in her pretty brown eyes told him this beautiful woman was still grieving for his brother.

He forgot that he was still stinging from her scorn and started to say something, but the realization that they were both sorrowing over Pete tangled the words in his throat. So he shook his head and took a step back.

His tacit refusal, however, seemed to make things worse.

“Take it, I said!” She held out the ring again. “You can keep it for some woman you haven’t even met yet!” And then she hurled it at him.

The ring bounced off Jack’s chest and fell to the floor with a clink. He bent and retrieved it, hesitated for a moment, then pocketed it as he straightened to face her. He’d give it back to her later, when she’d calmed down. Even though the disdainful things she had said to him moments ago still hurt, he should have been quicker to say that she could keep the ring with his blessing. That he understood why she’d want to have this symbol of the love his brother had felt for her.

Shocked by the unexpected news of Pete’s death, he had just blurted out his plans, and she had shown him with a few contemptuous words just how ill-considered they appeared. Caroline Wallace’s derision made him feel like a silly boy still wet behind the ears. She’d looked at him as if he’d tracked cow manure into her schoolroom.

It was a cinch she’d never looked at Pete that way. Pete had always been the polished one, the one who’d excelled at book learning. No doubt a lady like Caroline Wallace had valued those qualities.

“We’ll be going, ma’am, me and the girls,” he said, determined not to say anything else he’d be sorry for later.

“Going? Where?” Caroline asked, sounding dazed.

“On to Montana.”

“But…but you can’t take those two little girls to that unsettled country up there! Why, there are Indians in Montana, I’ve heard! And bears, and mountain lions.”

“Last I heard, you had Comanches around here, too,” he retorted. “And cougars. And rattlesnakes.”

“And blizzards, and wolves,” she went on, as if he hadn’t spoken. “You can’t possibly be thinking of taking two helpless children into such a situation.”

“The girls and I will do just fine, but thanks for your concern, Miss Wallace.” He bit out the words. “Sorry to have troubled you.” He turned on his heel, hoping he could postpone any explanation to Abigail and Amelia until they were away from her.

He reached the door before she caught up and tugged on his sleeve.

“Please, Mr. Collier, wait a moment.”

He turned around and beheld her whitened face, the tears still shining on her cheeks.

“I—I’m sorry. I was unforgivably rude, but I hope you’ll reconsider leaving just now. It’s already mid-afternoon, and—”

He took out the pocket watch that had been a gift to him from his mother, who, unlike their father, hadn’t played favorites between the two boys. “It’s only two o’clock. Plenty of time to make tracks up the road and rid you of our troublesome presence.” Then he realized how sarcastic he had been, for he saw pain flash across her face.

“Yes, it’s only two o’clock, but if you’re heading north, the next town is quite a piece up the road on the other side of the Colorado River.”

“Who needs a town? We’ve been camping out with the herd since we left south Texas. I left the cattle south of town, grazing by the creek. My drovers are there, but we should get back to them.” In actuality, his men were not expecting him to return before morning, but Caroline Wallace didn’t need to know that.

He could leave the ring at the post office. He remembered Pete telling him her father was postmaster.

“I—I’ve given you the worst of news. You can’t just leave, after that. Please, allow me to apologize, and again, offer you a place for the night at our house. Mama and Papa would want to meet you and your daughters—they would have been their grandnieces…”

If Pete had lived to marry her. “No, thanks,” he said and strode out the door. He spotted the twins not far away, each holding one end of a jump rope while a third girl jumped it. It looked as if they’d been readily accepted by the other girls and were having a great time.

He beckoned to them. “Abby, Amelia, come with me.” He watched as they bid quick farewells to their new playmates, snatched up their dolls and ran to him. “We’ll leave the horses here for now.” With any luck, Miss Wallace would be gone by the time they returned for them.

“Are we going to Uncle Pete’s house now?” Abby asked.

“Where does he live?” Amelia chimed in, as they fell into step with him.

In Heaven, he thought, but aloud he said, “There’s been a change of plans, girls. Let’s walk along the creek and I’ll tell you about it.” He wanted to get away from the schoolyard, in case Caroline Wallace was watching from the schoolhouse window. The girls walked along with him quietly, taking their cue from his solemn demeanor.

The creek for which the town had been named was lined with cottonwood and live oak trees. It wasn’t wide—a man on horseback could splash or swim across it in a moment, depending on the time of year, but it was pretty, flowing lazily past them. He saw a fish jump after a dragonfly and regretted for a moment that he wouldn’t be here long enough to bring a cane pole and try his luck.

He paused when he found an inviting grassy bank and invited them to sit down with him.

“Miss Wallace told me some bad news, girls,” he began, when they were settled on either side of him.

They looked up at him, their faces serious, wary. “You mean Aunt Caroline?” Amelia asked.

He didn’t correct her, just nodded. They’d realize Miss Caroline Wallace was never going to be their aunt quickly enough. Best to get it over with—there was no way to soften the blow. “Miss Wallace told me that Uncle Pete became very sick this winter, and they couldn’t make him well again. He…he passed away, girls. He went to Heaven.”

Two identical shocked faces stared up at him, open-mouthed.

“He—he died, Papa? Uncle Pete died? Like Mama?” Abby asked, her voice breaking as a tear began to slide down her cheek. Beside her, Amelia had closed her eyes and sagged against her twin, whimpering.

He nodded, pulling them both against him, and for a few minutes he just held them while they sobbed. He let a few of his own tears trickle into their soft hair, knowing they would never notice in the midst of their crying, but he was careful not to lose control for fear of frightening them. They had only seen him weep when their mother died, but that had been almost three years ago and he thought they had probably been too young then to remember it.

A man couldn’t have asked for a better brother than Pete, Jack thought. He’d been Jack’s best friend, his playmate, his confidant—and his defender when Pa had taken out his frustrations on Jack. It hadn’t been Pete’s fault he was smarter, and he’d never rubbed Jack’s nose in it, never flaunted it. He’d thought it only fitting when Jack had inherited the ranch.