Page 4 of Leftover Mail-Order Bride (Frontier Brides #2)

O h, the thrill, the joy! She’d forgotten how much she loved racing—the wind tugging at her veil, the world flying past, and the power behind the reins. They sped across the grasses, veering around a stray bush and leaping little dips. She was an eagle! She was free!

The thud of more hoofbeats told her she had company even before Jack hove into view on her right. She sent him a grin before pressing her heels against Myra’s flank and urging her faster. Ahead, the twin barns she’d spotted grew larger and larger, until they towered over the paddock beside them. She slowed the horse to a canter, a trot, a walk.

She stopped beside the wooden fence, and Jack reined in next to her. His hat had blown off along the way, and his red hair waved in wild abandon around his face. It was oddly appealing.

“Where,” he started, “did you learn to ride like that?”

She might have bristled if she hadn’t heard the admiration in his voice. “My father loved to ride. There was a track just outside our part of Albany with some fields and trees. We’d go out in the summer after he was done with work and ride.”

With a whoop, his brother galloped past to wheel his mount in a cloud of dust.

“Now, that was a run! Jack, you should show her your skills.” He tossed his brother’s hat toward the brown and white patched horse, and Jack caught it with one hand even as color rose in his firm cheeks.

“Maybe another time,” he said.

He had no reason to be so humble. They were becoming friends, after all. “I showed you my skills, sir,” Victoria said with an encouraging smile.

He regarded her a moment, then nodded. “If you’d like.” He handed her his hat. “Wait here.”

She set the hat on her lap and patted Myra on the neck as he clucked to his horse and urged him out onto a track that ran between two fenced pastures toward the deep green wall of the forest beyond. Cows as red as his brother’s hair raised their heads to watch him.

“That’s Africa,” Jeremy supplied as they waited.

“You brought the cows from so far away?” Victoria asked, surprised.

He chuckled. “No, ma’am. Africa is Jack’s horse, though he tends to call him Af. Our brother Jacob named him. He thought that big white patch on the side looked like the continent. Jacob likes to read about geography and such.” He shrugged as if it were an odd flaw.

“And Jack doesn’t like to read?” she asked. The plaintive sound in her voice nearly made her wince.

“We all like to read,” Jeremy assured her, watching as Jack turned the horse in the shadow of the trees. “But Jack’s more of a problem solver than a deep thinker like Jacob. Here he comes!”

Victoria caught her breath as Africa thundered toward them, speed building with each stride. Jack slung one leg over the saddle. Surely he wouldn’t dismount now. He’d be killed!

She clutched the reins so hard Myra shied, but Victoria couldn’t take her gaze off Jack. He dropped and bounced off the dusty track, then whipped his body over the other side and did it again. Hooking one knee into the stirrup, he hung so low to the ground the fingers on one hand skimmed the grass on the edge of the track.

Applause burst out of her as he righted himself in time to bring his horse to a stop beside her. With a gentle smile, he handed her a wildflower.

Victoria clutched it close. “That was amazing! Where did you learn to ride like that?”

He shrugged, reminding her of his brother. “Just takes practice.”

“Lots and lots of practice,” Jeremy told her. “Jacob and I can jump off the side, but only Jack can ride on the side.”

“It was something we did when we were boys,” Jack demurred. “Before we understood we had more important things to do on the ranch.” He swung down from the saddle and stroked his mount’s sweaty neck. “Let me help you, Miss… Victoria. Jeremy, since you have nothing better to do, see to the horses.”

His brother saluted him as if he were a soldier. “Yes, sir! Serves me right for trying to get you to show off for a lady.”

She offered Jack back his hat, then took her foot from the stirrup and let him lift her down beside him. Sheltered in his arms a moment, she gazed up into his face. The fierce joy she thought she’d seen while he’d been riding had gone, to be replaced with something that looked suspiciously like resignation.

How sad. She could almost see little Jack practicing and practicing with his brothers, cheering each other on, trying to be the best. It seemed work had stolen his joy, just as it had tried to steal hers.

As his brother led the horses away, Jack stepped back and offered her his arm. “How about I show you the ranch?”

Victoria looped up her skirts, tucked the wildflower behind a button, then put her hand on his arm. He led her along the track he’d just ridden. A cool breeze ruffled the veil on her riding hat, bringing with it the scent of something earthy and the sound of cattle lowing. Once again, some of the cows raised their heads, but they seemed to find Jack’s company comforting, for they quickly returned to their grazing.

He stopped beside a split-rail fence, gaze going off across the pasture. “We have about one hundred head of cattle, give or take, every year, on three hundred and twenty acres. Mostly we raise them for beef, but we keep a few for milk.”

“I haven’t seen many cows,” she admitted. “But I seem to recall them being black and white or tawny. How did you manage to find so many red ones?”

He smiled. “These are Red Rubies. Pa bought some off another settler when we first got to the territory. I think he liked the fact that they were redheads, like him.”

“Like all of you, it seems,” she said, remembering the rows of brothers and sisters sitting at the church service.

“All except Ma,” he acknowledged. “And Caroline. She’s Jeremy’s wife. They live in the house with my parents and sisters. We’re building a bunk house for my brothers and the hands we need when it comes time for branding and roundup.”

Victoria looked back toward the barns. From this angle, she could make out the side of a white clapboard, two-story house. “Is the house so big, then?”

“Not big enough for another bride, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “I have rooms above the barn, but they won’t be suitable for long either. I claimed a hundred and sixty acres of forest land. I was hoping to clear part of it and build my own home, after I’m done with the church and the bunkhouse.”

That was a lot of work! Small wonder he didn’t have time to practice his trick riding anymore.

He led her back toward the barns, pointing out the sheep in one of the pastures, the pigs in a pen, and the chicken coop and hens hunting about the yard.

“We have to make sure the raccoons or foxes don’t get them,” he explained as if he’d seen her look. “My sisters generally gather the eggs, though all of us learned how as children.”

She began to see why Mrs. Dalrymple had cautioned her away from being a ranch wife. Victoria hadn’t had many animals growing up, aside from the horses, but she knew they all required tending in one form or another. So many animals just meant more tending.

“And do you raise crops as well?” she asked as he turned for the house.

“Some hay,” he allowed, “but we have a large garden beyond the house for the family. My brothers and I generally do the planting and help with the weeding, Ma and my sisters harvest and can.”

Add all that to the usual activities of cooking, cleaning, and sewing, and Jack Willets and his family likely had their hands full.

“It must keep you busy,” she mused as they approached what appeared to be the back of the house.

“Very busy,” he confirmed. “Some days it’s all I can do to keep everyone safe and fed.”

The burden nearly bowed those broad shoulders. A wife would be expected to help carry it. Could she fill that role?

***

She could ride, and she’d showed a reasonable amount of interest in the ranch. But her back seemed stiffer as she lifted her skirts to climb the steps to the kitchen door.

The scent of baking ham met him as he moved into the kitchen, molasses combined with the savory juices. Normally, Jenny would have been bustling about, one or more of his sisters or Caroline helping, to get everything else ready for dinner. Now the house seemed oddly quiet.

“Double oven,” he felt compelled to point out to Victoria. “Good deep sink. I always like looking out the window when I’m helping with the dishes.”

“How nice,” she said, but she was using that polite, cool voice again, so she didn’t sound particularly pleased.

He poked his head out the door from the kitchen into the hallway, half expecting to find his family lining the walls and eavesdropping. But the hardwood floor stretched between him and the front door, empty.

Victoria joined him by the door. He nodded across the hallway. “Ma and Pa have a room downstairs. We have four more bedrooms upstairs. Dining room and parlor are along here.”

They passed the hooks where everyone in the family hung their coats. Most were missing. Funny. Ma usually insisted on more sedentary pursuits on Sundays except for the milking and egg gathering. Had they started some project they hadn’t discussed with him?

He showed Victoria the dining room, where the table was already set for dinner. Fourteen seats rather than the usual thirteen. They were obviously hoping she’d stay. Tension gathering, he took her across to the parlor, expecting to find a crowd waiting.

She glanced around at the sofa and ladder-backed chairs, the stone hearth, and the bookcase filled with the family favorites. “Very cozy.”

Also very empty.

She turned, gaze going out the big front window overlooking the porch. Shadows disappeared on either side. He could hear the thuds of people diving for cover. Alone on one of the chairs, his mother waved a hand as regally as a duchess in one of Jacob’s novels.

“Come meet my mother,” he said, turning for the door.

She touched her hair, but he could have told her nothing was out of place, even after that pounding ride. Everything about Victoria was perfect.

Ma beamed at her as they came out the front door. A pitcher of lemonade, cups, and a platter of cookies waited on a side table next to her. “Oh, there you are, Jack.”

“Ma,” Jack said. “This is Miss Victoria Milford. She’s a guest of the Dalrymples.”

“I noticed you at services,” Ma said, motioning Victoria into the chair nearest hers. His family had several scattered along the porch, which ran all across the front of the big ranch house. “New to the area?”

“Yes,” Victoria said. “From Albany.”

“And are you visiting or relocating?” his mother asked, pouring her a glass of lemonade.

“Relocating,” Victoria said. “Jack was kind enough to show me some of your ranch. You must be very proud.”

His mother straightened her shoulders. “We’ve worked hard, and it shows. Jack works hardest of all.”

“I gathered that,” Victoria said, pausing to take a sip.

His mother jerked her head at the plate of cookies, and Jack hurriedly offered it to Victoria.

She shook her head. “Thank you. Those look delicious, but I shouldn’t spoil my appetite. I promised Mrs. Dalrymple I’d be back in time for dinner.”

His mother’s face fell. “Oh. We were hoping you could join us.”

“I wish I could,” Victoria told her regretfully. “But a guest has to honor her hostess’s wishes.” She set down the glass. “In fact, I should probably be going.”

“Ride back with her, Jack,” his mother ordered, rising with Victoria. “That’s only gentlemanly.”

As if he needed an excuse to spend more time with Victoria. “I’ll be back for dinner,” he promised.

Ma reached out and pressed Victoria’s hand. “I hope we have another opportunity to become acquainted, dear.”

Victoria smiled at her. “I’d like that. Thank you again for your hospitality.”

“Any time,” Ma assured her with a look to Jack.

Jack saw Victoria back to the barn. A scuffle from the hayloft told him where at least some of his siblings were hiding. Jeremy had disappeared as well, so Jack brought out Af and Myra and helped Victoria back into the saddle. He’d helped his sisters mount on occasion when they were riding sidesaddle. Putting his hands to Victoria’s waist was something else entirely. It reminded him it was his duty to protect, to cherish.

To love and honor.

His throat felt tight, and he wasn’t sure what more to say, so he said nothing as they rode back to the parsonage. She didn’t seem to need to fill the silence either. He could imagine walking, hands clasped, through the fields. And when they paused, he would take her in his arms and hold her close, letting his kiss tell her how much he valued her.

“May I call on you tomorrow?” he asked as he helped her down at the parsonage.

She glanced at him as she looped up her skirts. “I’d like that. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Willets.”

Her smile was kind, but somehow, he felt as if he’d been demoted.

If only there was someone in the family he could trust to ask advice about courting. He’d always been close to their oldest brother, Jesse, but he was off at Wallin Landing with his own bride. Jeremy had just married Caroline, but theirs had been an unusual sort of courtship, with her showing up unexpectedly after answering an ad for a mail-order bride.

Of course, in their family, if you wanted to answer a question, you went to one person. As soon as he returned to the ranch, which had repopulated itself nicely in his absence, he found his brother Jacob holed up on one of the porch chairs, nose in a book.

“James Fenimore Cooper,” Jack said, taking the chair next to his. “That’s a new author.”

Jacob glanced up, the glass in his spectacles glinting. “Ned sent it with Caroline’s belongings.”

Ned was Caroline’s only brother. He’d been at the ranch a month ago, but he’d returned to their hometown of Cincinnati to take care of some family business and sent on her trunks as well.

“Mind if I interrupt a moment?” Jack asked. “I have a couple of questions for you.”

Jacob set aside the book with obvious reluctance, then swiveled to face Jack more fully. Though his brother could look him in the eyes when they were standing, everything else about him was toned down—hair more russet than red, gray eyes lighter, and build leaner.

“You know I’m courting,” Jack began.

“The elegant young lady from church this morning,” his brother confirmed. “Jeremy insisted we all make ourselves scarce while she was here. Is she timid?”

By the way she’d ridden that dun neck for leather, he would never make that claim. “No. I just thought we might be a bit much all at once.”

Jacob shook his head. “If you want her in the family, she’ll have to get used to us at some point. And hiding us away might make her wonder if we’re unsavory characters.”

He hadn’t thought of that. “Seems like I’m already failing.”

“Courtship can be like that,” Jacob said cheerfully, though Jack knew he had only attempted to court one young lady. “One moment, you’re on top of the world. The next, you’re six feet under.”

“Well, that sounds dismal.” Jack leaned back. “I was hoping you’d have examples you could offer from literature or history, particularly of couples who came from different backgrounds.”

His brother stuck out his lower lip, as if thinking. “Well, there’s Boaz and Ruth in the Bible. They seem to have fared well. I suppose you might consider Romeo and Juliet.”

“What!” Jack sputtered. “They died!”

“A cautionary tale, to be sure,” Jacob agreed. “But your family and hers aren’t sworn enemies.”

“Who’s not a sworn enemy?” Pa asked, limping out onto the porch.

Jack shot to his feet to offer him his chair. Jacob frowned at Jack.

Sometimes, when he looked at his father, he thought he saw his own future. They were both stockily built, both dedicated to family and the ranch, in that order. But his father’s hair was fading into gray, and he carried a bit more weight than when Jack had been younger.

Now Pa held up a hand, then leaned against the porch support as if to steady himself. “You fixing to fight someone, son?”

“No, sir,” Jack said, remaining standing out of respect. “Jacob and I were just talking.”

“About your gal?” Pa asked, brow up. “Should I be thinking about a cabin raising?”

“Not just yet,” Jack allowed. “Seems I have a lot of competition.”

His father barked a laugh, which turned into a cough. Jack had to fight to keep from patting his back. Pa didn’t like folks fussing over him. Jack was the same way.

“I saw the looks Miss Milford was sending your way,” his father said when he’d recovered. “And she didn’t seem overly fond of that Goodenough fellow.” He winked at Jack. “Seems he’s not good enough after all.”

Jack laughed despite his concerns. “Thanks, Pa.”

His father pushed off from the support. “Dinner’s about on the table. Don’t be long.”

“Right behind you,” Jack said, but, as Pa entered the house, Jacob rose and put out a hand.

“What’s going on?” he asked, gray eyes narrowing.

“Not sure what you mean,” Jack said, keeping his voice neutral.

His brother ticked off the facts on his fingers. “Pa’s limp is getting worse, and now he’s coughing. Jeremy and Caroline decided to live in the house instead of building the cabin he wanted. You suddenly decide you need a bride. Now.”

He should have known Jacob would notice. He was only surprised the others weren’t asking similar questions. He glanced in the parlor window to make sure none of their siblings were listening, then took a step closer to his brother.

“A few months ago, Doc Rawlins told Pa his heart was failing him. Ma and I decided not to worry the rest of you. Jeremy and Caroline found out by accident and chose to stay close in case they were needed.”

“And you decided we needed another pair of hands,” Jacob reasoned. “That’s why you’re wondering about Victoria Milford.”

Jack nodded. “She caught my eye the moment I met her, Jacob, just like Ma and Pa like to tell us. But can she contribute to the ranch?”

His brother shook his head again. “I think you’re asking the wrong question, but, by all means, invite her to dinner. Just tell Ma in advance, ask everyone to be on their best behavior, and try to look as if you like her.”

The last was the easiest. He liked Victoria all too well, from her quiet smiles to her polished demeanor and skills in the saddle. If only he could see her fitting in here and enjoying it.