The Rancher (8 page)

Colorado, Friday

Abby watched from her bedroomwindow and waited until her father and

his horse finally disappeared over the far ridge of the sun soaked hillside.  Friday had come all too soon, but Lily had come early to help her get ready and to offer moral support.  Abby was unaccustomed to letting her hair hang in curls, but she trusted Lily to make her into a presentable female.   She could hardly believe her reflection.   She was almost… pretty.  Abby took a deep breath and headed for the door.

Most of the hired hands would be outwith her father fixing the broken dam atthe far end of the property and repairing afew fences that had been ruined during thelast windstorm.  However, there would beat least one hand who would have beenleft behind to make the run into town for

the weekly supplies.

She couldn’t risk anyone discovering her plan before she’d had a chance to carry it through. She’d lose their wager for sure and she’d have no choice but to leave for Denver this afternoon.  That was

not an option. Today she would find a man to marry.  Somehow.

Pulling her father’s large coat around her shoulders she hoped to avoid Martha or any of the hands.  They would surely start asking questions if they saw the frills

beneath the coat.

“Abby,” Lily whispered, “I can’t ride a horse like this.”  She pointed to the trim, bustled waistline and tapered skirt of her dress.

Abby took a hold of Lily’s hand anddragged her across the courtyard towardthe barn.  The cows would have alreadybeen milked early this morning and noneof the horses were scheduled to be bredtoday. The barn should be mostly empty,other than the cows, a few chickens, and adozen or so horses.

Abby heaved open the unpainted doubledoors.  “Come on,” she motioned to Lily.  “We’ll have to hitch a ride on the wagon.”

When they reached the oversized stallwhere the wagon was kept, it was gone.  Abby opened the doors on the opposite

side of the barn and was pleased to see it had already been hitched with a fresh team of horses.

“This is gonna be easier than I thought.” Abby heaved up the skirts of her dress high enough to place one heavily booted foot on the step plank at the side of the buckboard.

Davey poked his head up from the opposite side of the wagon.

“Oh. Hi, Abby,” he said casually.

Abby dropped her foot to the ground in an instant, haphazardly shoving her skirts downward, and smiled sheepishly at the gangly red-headed hired hand.  So, Davey was the lucky hand to have been chosen to stay behind and make the run to town.

Glancing from Abby to Lily, Davey stretched   his   neck   forward   and

swallowed.  He licked his hand and ran it over the stubborn cowlick at his temple.  “Miss Lily, I didn’t know you was here.” His face changed three different shades of pink as he spoke, his freckles becoming more pronounced. “Um...What are you...” he looked at Abby, “...ladies doing out here?” He cleared his throat and moved the hammer he held from one hand to the

other.

“Davey,” she tried to cover the surprise in her voice as she looked around the barn, thinking of what to say, “I, we,” she corrected, “have to make a trip into town today to...uh, pick up a few things, and uh, I didn’t want Lily here to have to ride horseback in her pretty new dress.”

As if on cue, Lily bowed her head demurely and smiled, glancing up coyly

through lowered lashes.

“It’s a mighty perty dress, Miss Lily.” Davey dropped the hammer.

Lily placed her hand over her mouth quaintly and giggled.

When the young Davey vanished behind the wagon to retrieve the fallen tool, Lily pulled a sour face at Abby, her normally beautiful features contorted.

Davey’s disorderly red hair leapt,before once again settling on his head, ashe reappeared over the edge of the wagon. He placed the hammer in a box in the backof the buckboard and walked around to the

front of the horses.  Pulling an oily black rag from his pocket he wiped his dirty hands.

“Just finished oilin’ the back wheel.

Been givin’ us problems for a while.” He

jutted his head toward the rear wheel against the back wall.

Abby rolled her eyes at the toothy grin that, in the last few minutes, had become a permanent fixture on Davey’s face. What Lily could do to some of these men.

“So,” she rocked back and forth on her heels, “I guess she’s ready then?” Abby started to lift up her skirts enough to reach the loading board.

“Sorry, Abby.  Can’t have the wagon today.”

Abby paused, her skirt layers around her knees, turned a fixed stare on the scrawny little string of a man standing in the way of her brilliant plan. With a look she was sure undid all of Lily’s hard work with her this morning, she walked toward him with strong, focused steps, until her

chin nearly ran into his chest.

Davey took a step backward.  “You’re

in   luck  though,”   a   nervous   laugh accompanied his words.  “I’m on my way into town right now.  That’s why I was a fixin’ the wheel,” he darted a glance at Lily, who stood with her hands wrapped neatly in front of her, still smiling in his direction, “I’d be happy to take ya,” he finished with a look of utter triumph on his face.

Abby grunted. Maybe this would work

after all.

“I’ll just saddle Bella.  No need to be cramped on that little old seat.” Abby walked toward the stall where her

mother’s beautiful white mare resided.

“How ya doin’, ol’ girl?”

As if in response the Thoroughbred

lifted her head and whinnied. Abby clenched her hands together to stop them from shaking. “I’m doing the right thing,” she whispered under her breath.

Once saddled, she hiked the dress up enough she could mount without a problem.  She dropped the heavy layers down around her, the bottom of the dress not able to reach her calves and feet.

Inappropriate   she   knew,   but,   sherationalized, at this point it could onlyhelp. She shrugged her shoulders andnudged the horse outside of the barntoward the awaiting wagon. “We ready?”

“You owe me,” Abby caught Lily’smouthed words as she sat in extreme

proximity to the gawky ranch hand.

“Thank you,” she mouthed back.

Davey jumped down from the seat and

closed the barn doors.   He started climbing back up onto the buckboard when he hopped back off and ran to the house and in through the kitchen doors.  When he returned, he had a list in his hand.

“Martha woulda had my hide if I’d forgotten her lard and such.” Davey looked down over the list before sticking it safely into his shirt pocket.

Abby was grateful for the slower pace the wagon provided on the drive into town.   She needed time to calm her nerves. Every few minutes she would glance up and see Lily’s tolerating smile bestowed on the red-headed boy at her side, or she would catch her friend’s pleading glance at her for an end to the torment.

Silver Falls bustled with folks in townfor the day.   The first weekend of themonth was usually the busiest.  Farmersand ranchers who could not spare the timeaway from their own places often senttheir sons or hired help to pick upsupplies.   Abby looked about and waspleased to see more than a handful ofeligible men roaming the streets today.

She dismounted and tied Bella to a treejust beyond the church house. Daveypulled the wagon up to the front of the newtelegraph office, which was still a noveltyin town.  Abby watched as he held a handup to Lily, helping her down from the highperch of the buckboard. Once on theground with stable footing, Lily offered ashort curtsy, her head bowed.  Then, shewhipped around to face Abby.   Her

shoulders   squared,   and   she   leaned forward slightly as she made her way to where Abby stood.  As she got closer, her eyes narrowed into slits and her lips pursed together.

“Abby McCallister,” Lily spoke firmly, “if you ever leave me alone with a hopeful gentleman suitor from your ranch again, I’ll...I’ll...”   She   never   finished  her

sentence.   A huge bubble of laughter exploded out of her mouth.

Abby watched in amazement.  She had never seen Lily act anything but the lady in public, and she had lost count of how many times Lily had told her that laughing loudly,   especially  in   front   of  the townspeople, was certainly not lady-like.

With her faced flushed and her eyes aglow, Lily placed her hands on her hips

and calmed herself.  Her lips twitched a few times before she gave one small shake of her head and was finished with her outburst. Abby, amused at all the stares they were receiving, couldn’t help a twitch of her own.

Lily linked her arm through Abby’s and they walked toward the church.

“Abby, you are my best friend in the whole world.  Are you sure you know what you are doing?”

“What other choice do I have?”

Lily opened her mouth to respond when a fight broke out over by the mercantile, between what looked to be the three youngest Spencer boys. Lily’s attention was pulled from Abby and focused on the direction of the ruckus.

“Will they ever grow up?” Lily asked

with disgust.

Abby couldn’t think about that right

now.  Dragonflies had set up home in her belly and were all a flutter.  She took one step forward, then another as she started her walk across the dusty road, toward the church steps, her chosen podium for her announcement.

“Benjamin’s no better at twenty-two than Thomas at sixteen,” she said without looking back at Lily.  Ben was Jeremiah’s best friend and Abby did not want to revisit her most recent visit with the latter.

“Abby, have you really thought this through?” Lily caught up with her and whispered in her ear. “You could end up marrying anyone.  It could be one of those Spencer boys,” she said flickering her wrist in the direction of the disturbance,

“or even worse yet, their drunken father.  Or... even that old, dirty miner.  What’s his name?” Lily searched the ground, looking wildly about as they continued slowly toward the chapel.

“Oh, Lily.”   Abby tried to hide the impatience in her voice.

A gust of wind pushed Abby’s hat forward on her head.  She used one hand

to hold it in place and the other to gather

the hem of her dress.

“Matthew, that’s it. That’s his name.” Lily clapped, then pushed her blowing hair out of her face as she looked in the

direction of the mercantile, where the old man loaded a wagon full of mining supplies. She scrunched up her nose before turning back to Abby.

“Matthew is a kind old man who is still

in love with the memory of his dead wife.  He’d no sooner marry me than stop searching for gold.”

They reached the stairs.

“Lily,” Abby turned to look her straight in the eye. I
 
am
 
going to do this. I have to.” She sat down on the bottom step to calm her racing heart.

“Okay, then.  What do you want me to do?”

“Just watch for my father.  If I don’t have a prospective groom within the hour...well, just watch for him.”

Abby closed her eyes and said a quick

prayer.  She needed all the help she could get and wanted to make sure the Lord was with   her.
 
And, please
, she pleaded silently,
 
don’t let him be a Spencer.

Abby stood up at the base of the steps

gathering courage for what she was about to do. She’d much rather be driving a fence post, even shoveling manure, than swallowing her pride and asking for just any man to be her husband.

There has to be another way.
  
The thought had crossed her mind more than once today.

A dark haired man, whom she’d never seen around town before, stood across the street, arms folded and resting against the low hanging branch of an old oak tree, staring at her.  There was something in the way he watched her that made her feel empowered and she mustered enough courage to take the first step up.  Her legs nearly betrayed her when she took on the second step.   She wished there was a railing to grab onto.  The last thing she

needed was to fall on her face.  She’d lose for sure.  She clung to the fact that women were sparse out here and she may get someone logical enough to appreciate her skills as a rancher.  She stood up a little taller and took the next step.

When she reached the top, she slowly turned around to look at the bustling crowd.  A few people darted a glance in her direction, but most were going hastily about their own business.  Abby tightened her grip around the fastenings of her father’s coat.

The early afternoon still had a chill andby the look of the sky, a storm would soonbe rolling in.  She secured the thick coatmore closely around her neck.  Tippingher head forward, she reached up andpulled her low riding hat from off her

head.  She tousled her hair, running her fingers through its length to free the hair tucked up underneath and shook them loose.  After all, if she wanted a husband, she guessed she’d better look at least a little female.