Barbara Phinney - Rancher To The Rescue

“How quickly did your mother decline before they left?”

“Quickly enough to make my father forget.”

“So he probably forgot to make any legal arrangements or update his will, if he had one,” Noah said, keeping his tone reasonable. He pulled out his pocket watch to consult the time. “You’ll need to see a lawyer, then. You said you were going to the bank at lunch. It’s too early for that, but you should consult a lawyer first, anyway. Go do that now. And ask him how long your parents need to be missing before they are presumed dead and death certificates are issued. I haven’t yet had to deal with that situation here.”

* * *

How crisp and businesslike he sounded, Clare decided, fighting back a sudden surge of irritation. Seeing a lawyer first was good idea. Something she should have already thought of.

Was that why she was upset? That she should have considered it before he did?

Resentment rose above the anger and she hated it. A few minutes ago, she’d practically asked Noah if he would solve her problems for her. Now she was upset when he was trying to! When did she become so fickle?

Her cheeks burned. She shouldn’t have had to take her problems to a man. To anyone, for that matter. She was college educated, someone her parents had entrusted with their youngest children. She’d taken a semester of family law, albeit one tailored for ladies only, but one nonetheless. She should have had these answers already.

“Is there something the matter?” Noah asked again.

Not something. Everything. She tried not to look miffed, instead, leaning forward and plastering on her face the calmest expression she could manage. If she was going to be married to this man, she should at least be honest with him. “I can’t help but feel as though the idea of renting my house should have been...well, mine! Frankly, I don’t think I should be turning to you for the solutions to all my problems.”

Clare felt her heart plummet. Oh, how petty she sounded!

To add to that, grief draped over her.

Noah looked surprised. “You would have thought of it eventually. You have a lot on your mind right now.”

“That’s very gracious of you, Noah,” she said, only remembering after speaking that he’d suggested more formality in the workplace. “I mean, Mr. Livingstone. But I don’t agree. It’s not just having a lot on my mind. I have to give up my home, the only one I’ve ever had. It’s, well, sad.”

“It’s for the best. I own a ranch. I can’t leave it.”

“I don’t know how you manage both a job here and a ranch. Animals need care all the time.”

“The ranch is small, and I have a hand come in twice a week to help.”

“But it’s still a ranch!”

Noah cleared his throat. “I only have one animal right now.”

“Really?” She could feel her expression go slack. “That one you bought from Mr. Burrows?”

“Yes. As I mentioned before, I want to run a ranch for rescued equine. All kinds. Pit ponies, feral horses, abandoned mules.”

“I know that.” She frowned. “But why? Old horses and such can only be put out to pasture.”

“Because they’re not just put out to pasture! Grazing land here is valuable and given only to cattle. Feral horses and retired mine ponies are seen as stealing grass and water. I want to start a program of saving them. Some I will be able to rehabilitate.”

“What good will that do? Most will be too old or cantankerous to have any value.”

“But not all. Some will be useful, pulling carts, teaching children. There is a new society that cares for animals that relies on donations, so perhaps my ranch will, also.” His voice rose. “After the war, many horses were put down, and I feel that was such a waste. We can’t be cruel to animals. That’s not what God wants of us. We’re caretakers of this earth. It’s time we started acting like it.”

She arched a brow. “Even wild or feral ones and their offspring?”

“Yes! Can’t anyone see that horses, mules and ponies built this nation? But they’re treated well only as long as they serve men.” His tone had a fierce edge to it.

“So you care for this pony each day before you come in?”

“Yes. I can even show your brothers how to care for him. They’ll need to learn to do chores anyway.”

She bristled. “They have always had chores. This morning I had them sweeping and bringing in wood.”

“I can teach them how to work around horses. My father might have owned a large manufacturing company, but we also had a dozen draft horses doing much of the work, like hauling goods and all the heavy lifting in the factory. Father hired men to care for them, and I learned stable duties and care from them.”

Clare frowned. “You didn’t learn how to run his business?”

Noah shifted back from her desk. “Yes, but every spare moment I had I was in the stables. Horses fascinated me. I learned how to coax the best work out of them. It’s not by the end of the whip, either. I can teach Tim and Leo the same thing. It’ll do them good to work in a stable.”

She jumped to her feet. “Why? So you can ‘train ’em up good,’ like Mr. Burrows wants to do? I’ve lived here all my life and I know what he’s like!”

At her loud words, Pooley turned around. Noah held up his hand. “I’m not Mr. Burrows. He just wants free labor. I want Tim and Leo to have a chance to learn some valuable skills. Learning how to control a big animal through love and care can help with their unruly natures. They’ll learn patience and personal discipline. I’ve seen the stablemen who worked for my father coax Percherons to do almost anything with just a soft, patient word.”

With a remorseful expression, she sat down again. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to lose my brothers, that’s all.”

Noah pressed his palms onto her desk and leaned forward. He was so close, she could smell the faint cologne she’d noticed on his handkerchief. “I’m sure someone at Anderson and Haley law firm will be able to help you keep custody of them. Go see them this morning. Then go to your bank appointment.”

“And pile up more bills,” she muttered.

“It can’t be helped. I expect you back to work at one. After work, you can fill me in on what happened, all right?”

With a short, tight nod, she stood. As she walked past him, she stopped, her voice dropping to a mere whisper. “After we’re married, will I still get to work here?”

She rolled her gaze upward until it bumped into his. She could hear the naysayers now. Taking a job from a man, taking food from some family’s mouths. Was she expected to stop work just because of a marital status?

Noah looked grim. “This is not the time for that discussion. You have more urgent issues.”

Clare sagged. “I’ll do my best to get this sorted out as quickly as possible.” She waited a moment, before adding, “I’m grateful I’ve been able to share this with you. Regardless of why any, um—” she glanced over at Mr. Pooley as her voice dropped “—marriage is formed, honesty is still paramount in it, don’t you think?” She offered a small, hopeful smile. “We’re off to a good start, and you’ve been noble to a fault. I appreciate that.” Before he could protest, she hastily shook her head and quickly retrieved her coat and hat before leaving.

* * *

Noah felt a chill race through him. Noble? Honest? He was neither, and neither virtue had prompted his proposal. Thinking of Elizabeth and of her humiliation, the humiliation he’d caused her, he recalled again how he’d agreed never to reveal the true circumstances surrounding their broken engagement.

At the time, he’d believed it was the least he could have done for her. But back then, his faith in God had been weakened by an unchristian father who cared little for religion and who wanted only to line his pockets. Being in Proud Bend, listening to Pastor Wyseman’s excellent sermons and seeing the man’s resounding faith, Noah’s own faith had been bolstered.