Forgotten Mail-Order Bride Page 4

  In a few words he told the sheriff what had happened. “I was thinking of getting an attorney to fight that miserable piece of…”

  “I’d be hopping mad if it happened to me. To be honest, I don’t think it will do you any good getting an attorney. You’ve got nothing in writing. No witness to say they heard George give you the land. Unless George is able to write and say so.”

  “I doubt it would carry any weight now. He’s a sick man, his memory is gone, and with this city lawyer brother-in-law Edward has, they could say George was of unsound mind, which he probably is now. I can’t believe I never got anything in writing. I helped build the ranch up to what it is today, and that, that contemptible varmint, did nothing except cause his father grief.”

  “I know it’s unfair. Thank goodness you branded your own cattle. I would get them off the ranch quick smart.”

  “Why?”

  “Rowan!” The sheriff slapped his open hand against his forehead. “What’s to stop Edward from running them off the ranch, putting a bullet in them even.”

  Rowan rocked back on his heels. He hadn’t thought of that. Thank goodness Edward was stupid enough to think he would move to the bunkhouse, and stay on at the ranch until he had bled all the knowledge he could out of him.

  He would not be sorry to see the back of Dorothea, if there was ever a woman who was trouble it was her. Had she complained to Edward about him? Not because he had behaved inappropriately toward her; because he had been smart enough to reject her blatant advances. The pair of them were a good match for each other, both treacherous and unprincipled. A woman like her could get a man in serious trouble if he didn’t watch out.

  “What are you planning, Rowan?”

  “Nothing, Sheriff.”

  “You just be careful. I’d hate to have to toss you in jail for breaking the law.”

  “Don’t you start on me. I’ve got enough trouble as it is without you nagging at me.”

  The sheriff grinned. “Thank goodness you haven’t got a wife to worry about.”

  A wife! Miranda Kingston! He had quite forgotten about her. He had been so busy with ranch work and George moving out to think of anything else. No wonder she had slipped his mind. Marriage was out of the question now he had nothing to offer a wife. A pity because he was starting to like her. A gal like her would not worry too much about him suddenly stopping his correspondence. He tried to allay his guilt.

  He had read between the lines that she had been reluctant to get married to anyone. If the situation with her family had sorted itself out, she would probably have called the whole thing off anyway. Thank goodness she hadn’t been some poor woman with no home or money who desperately needed a husband. After all this mess was cleared up, he would write to her and apologize for his rudeness, and hopefully she would have moved on with her life and found happiness.

  He had no idea what he would be doing, and he had too much pride to ask a young woman to become his wife without being able to provide a decent home for her. His dreams of marriage and a family were shattered into a million pieces, because he had been a trusting, gullible fool. He didn’t entirely blame George who had obviously trusted his son to do the right thing and uphold the unwritten agreement they had made.

  “What about the two old timers on the ranch? What’s going to happen to them once you go, Rowan? I know you looked upon them as friends and not merely employees.”

  “I’m leaving as soon as I sort out a few things. I’d be obliged if you kept this conversation just between us. I’m not sure about most of the men, probably won’t affect them much, but Hank and Tom said they wouldn’t be happy staying there if I went. The point is, I can’t offer them work as I don’t even have a job lined up for myself. I told them stay put, say nothing and if I can get work for all three of us I will. Unfortunately, it was the best I could do for them.”

  “I’ll discretely make a few enquiries about work for you. I don’t think it would be local. I do have sheriff friends in other towns in Colorado who might know of ranchers looking for good men.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate it. All three of us would.”

  Chapter Seven

  Miranda stomped out of the telegraph office. Nothing from Rowan Carstairs. She wondered why the smoke wasn’t pouring out of her ears. Between his broken promises, and Clem’s refusal to loan her any money because she was a woman without a husband, this had to be the worst time of her life. Well, they would not get away with it, either of them.

  She minced across the road to treat herself to a piece of apple pie and a cup of coffee at the diner, because no-one deserved a treat more than her right now. Glancing at a couple of cowboys who lounged outside the saloon, she knew they were not husband material. Likely as not they would murder her and steal the ranch. Surely there had to be a decent man around here prepared to marry her. There again, she didn’t want Clem to know she was thinking of a temporary marriage until she got the loan from him. A local man might raise his suspicions, particularly if he knew the would-be husband.

  At the diner she chose a table at the back, away from anyone else. To partake in senseless chit-chat with so much on her mind would be unbearable. A smiling young waitress sashayed up to her. Helen’s replacement most likely.

  “Good morning, are you ready to order?”

  “Yes, thanks. I’d like a coffee with cream, no sugar, and a large slice of apple pie.”

  “It won’t be long.”

  She was in a dire situation now. How could she lose the ranch her father had given more than thirty years of his life for? All the blood, sweat and tears he had poured into the place. Ma had just about worked herself to death at his side. It wasn’t right. Jacob might be prepared to throw his legacy away, but not her. Where on earth could she get a husband from? She could not afford to be too picky now. On the other hand, she had to make sure she got someone honest who would not try to take advantage of her.

  Suddenly it came to her. Rowan Carstairs had promised to marry her, and he would. She was desperate enough to ride over to Mountview and drag him to the altar by the scruff of his neck if necessary. She could bring him back here, get everything fixed up with the bank, then they could pretend he was going back to his own ranch to sell it. After a while they could discreetly have the marriage annulled. He owed her this much at least. Building up her hopes and dashing them without even having the decency to let her know. The most galling thing was she had liked him in the letters they had exchanged. Bob had said he was a decent man, so what had gone wrong?

  She nodded her thanks when her order arrived. All she had to do was get one of the neighbors to watch the ranch for a couple of days. The Hobson boys were thirteen and fifteen years old and experienced ranch hands who could do the essential chores for her. Amos, the older boy, had done casual work for them before and was always looking to make a few extra dollars. She would promise them at least three days of work, probably more, depending on what happened in Mountview.

  They were trustworthy and their father would keep an eye on things as well. She really could not afford the money to pay them, but it was better than losing the ranch to Clem and his rotten bank. Even if the boys offered to work for nothing, she would never accept their offer. Having always been fiercely independent, she was not prepared to change her stance because she was short of money.

  How dare Clem sit at his desk, presiding like God on judgement day, as he played with people’s livelihoods? The man had such an intense dislike of women, she wondered whether some woman had let him down in the past.

  The apple pie tasted delicious now she had made up her mind to confront Rowan in Mountview. She would ride over even if it meant spending a couple of nights on the trail. Much cheaper than paying a stagecoach fare, not to mention accommodation for the night at the hotel, because it was too long a trip to make in one day.

  ***

  After an uneventful two-day ride, Miranda found herself on the outskirts of Mountview by late morning. Now all she had to do was find out
where Rowan Carstairs lived and confront him in his lair. She wore a wide brimmed hat, her usual buckskin pants, and a blue work shirt covered by a black and white, tanned cowhide vest. Her hair was tied back with a leather thong and tumbled down her back. She had been tempted to squeeze a dress in her saddlebags, so as to look more feminine, then decided it would take up too much space.

  She might look like a man, but at least she was clean, having been able to wash in a stream earlier in the morning. What Rowan Carstairs saw was what he was going to get. The sheriff would be the best person to ask directions from. Knowing small towns as she did, anything out of the ordinary could generate gossip, something she had never been in favor of.

  She tied Audrey to the hitching rail out the front of the mercantile because a large tree offered the mare some shade from the sun. Taking her Winchester with her, she made her way to the sheriff’s office and opened the door.

  A tall, thin man sat at the desk reading a newspaper. By the tin star pinned to his chest he was the one she wanted.

  “Howdy, I’m looking for Rowan Carstairs.”

  “Oh?”

  “My name is Miranda Kingston, I’m a friend of his cousin.”

  “Bob Tait?”

  “Yes, he used to be the sheriff where I live.” She decided only to give him the barest amount of information. The less people who knew about her situation the better. No woman liked to advertise the fact she was so desperate for a husband she had to resort to marrying a man she had never met.

  “How is he doing these days?” Rowan had obviously not mentioned him getting married to Lotte, or maybe the sheriff was just trying to make sure she was telling the truth.

  “Didn’t Rowan tell you he went to Wyoming and got married?”

  “No, he didn’t mention it.”

  “Oh. Well, what about Rowan, is he married now?” She waited with bated breath.

  The sheriff laughed. “Are you kidding?”

  “Look, I’ve ridden a long way to see him.”

  “He’s down at the horse sales.”

  “Oh?”

  “Go down to the end of the main street, turn left and you can’t miss it. I can’t understand why he’s interested now.”

  “Thanks.” She turned on her heel and walked out. How would she recognize the man? His description of himself had been sketchy at best. She had not been any more forthcoming, though. Someone at the sale yard would be able to point him out.

  She mounted her horse and set off. “Well, Audrey, this is it.” Was she crazy, talking to her horse? Audrey was smarter than a lot of humans, didn’t answer back, either. She inwardly chuckled wondering what was wrong with her. She always acted idiotic when she was nervous or upset. Her heart pounded and she broke out in a cold sweat on thinking about her impending confrontation with Rowan Carstairs. “I wouldn’t do it only I’m desperate,” she muttered.

  Quite a few horses were corralled together, with numerous ranchers and cowboys inspecting the stock, obviously buyers. A crowd of spectators milled around as well. After tying Audrey to the hitching rail next to several other horses, she walked over to the man who she presumed to be the auctioneer.

  “Excuse me, I’m looking for Rowan Carstairs.”

  The man looked her up and down. “That’s him over there. The tall one wearing the black Stetson, and with his foot on the bottom rail.”

  “Thank you.” Rowan had promised to marry her and didn’t follow through with it. She whipped up her anger to dampen down her nerves. She could lose the ranch because of his treachery.

  She marched toward him. A few feet away she stopped. “Rowan Carstairs?”

  He swung around and the breath caught in her throat. “Who’s asking?”

  This ruggedly handsome man with the touch of arrogance, was him? His blue eyes were hard, his features set and grim. “I…um.” Her tongue became tied in knots.

  “Listen, lady.” He surveyed her with one quick sweep of his eyes. “I’m a busy man, so state your business and leave me alone.”

  “You, rude, disagreeable oaf.”

  He turned his back on her. Rage almost consumed her. “I’m Miranda Kingston,” she yelled.

  “Miranda!” He spun around.

  “You asked me to marry you, remember?” A few interested spectators edged closer.

  “Oh.” A slight red stained his tanned cheeks.

  “Yes.” She purposely raised her voice. “I’ve come here for the wedding.”

  “I can’t marry you?”

  “Why you, you, unprincipled, polecat.”

  “Get about your business.” Rowan glared at the people who were obviously enjoying the spectacle.

  Anger bouncing off him almost knocked her over, yet she stood her ground.

  “My position has changed. Anyway, we only exchanged a few letters.”

  “Found someone else, did you? Didn’t have the courage to even let me know. You yellow-bellied polecat.”

  “To be honest, with everything that’s happened here lately. I forgot about you.”

  “Forgot about me? You led me to believe you wanted to get married. Now I stand to lose my ranch. I…I’ll sue you for breach of promise.”

  “Sue away, you won’t get any money out of me.”

  “I’ll get an attorney and take you for everything you’ve got.” She was so enraged she didn’t care what she said to him now.

  “I don’t like being abused in front of people I know.” He took her by the arm and stepped away from the bystanders. “I’ve got enough to put up with as it is.”

  “And I don’t like being misled.” She kicked him in the shin and with a shocked curse he let her go. “I’m going to lose my ranch because of your lies.”

  “Well, I’ve already lost mine,” he snarled.

  “What! How?”

  “I was a trusting fool,” he shot the words out.

  “But your cabin, the one you built.”

  “Let’s get out of here. I’ve got no money to buy horses, anyway.”

  “Oh, Rowan there you are.” A blonde-haired beauty, dressed in a blue silk dress, alighted from a nearby buggy. “I thought I might find you here.”

  “Get away from me, Dorothea.”

  “It’s not my fault Edward kicked you out of your little house. We can still be friends, or maybe.” She ran her tongue suggestively across her lower lip.

  Miranda could not believe she was hearing right. Close up the woman had a hard, predatory gleam in her eye.

  “We are not friends and never were.” Rowan’s voice was so cold Miranda shivered even though it was sunny. “It’s your sister and her husband who are going to take over my home.”

  “They have to live somewhere.”

  “And I don’t?”

  The woman leaned over and made a grab for Rowan’s arm and he hastily stepped back.

  “Leave my betrothed alone,” Miranda said. Whatever was going on here was not good. “Or I’ll scratch your eyes out.”

  “The likes of you, betrothed to him?”

  The woman gave a tinkling laugh, which felt like slivers of glass piercing Miranda’s skin. What a witch. She wore a gold wedding band on her finger. A married woman trying to sink her hooks into an obviously unwilling man was so reprehensible, she was tempted to call her out on it.

  Chapter Eight

  Rowan could not believe what was happening to him. He had lost his home and now he had to put up with this. His stomach curdled with revulsion as he stared at Dorothea. The woman’s behavior was disgraceful, immoral when she was a married woman.

  “Where’s the diner you promised to take me to, sweetheart? I’m panting for a nice cup of coffee.” Miranda gave him a loving smile.

  “We can go now, darlin’. Dorothea needs to find her husband.”

  “You’ll be sorry you rejected me, Rowan Carstairs,” she hissed. “When I tell Edward how you accosted me.”

  “And who is going to believe you?” Miranda scoffed. “Rowan has lived around here for years. The sherif
f is a friend of his, and I’m prepared to swear you forced your unwanted attentions on him. The local newspaper might be interested in writing about it, too”

  “Why you, you, piece of trash. How dare you.”

  “Be careful what you say about my future wife,” Rowan snapped. He could never marry Miranda now because he had nothing to offer her. He liked what he saw though. Big emerald green eyes a man could just about drown in, and long brown hair. Dressed in men’s clothing he could clearly see her outline. Miranda Kingston was a pretty gal. It made his loss even harder to bear. Better if she had turned out to be a hag.

  They turned their backs on Dorothea and walked away arm in arm. “Where’s your horse?” he asked.

  She pointed her horse out to him. “Mine is the bay gelding next to her. Was it coincidental, or an omen that their horses stood side by side? He could not understand why he was having these crazy thoughts. Maybe he was starting to crack under the pressure of what had happened to him of late. He released her arm and stepped back a pace.

  “Why did you come here?”

  “I had to see you, Rowan. We need to talk.”

  “The wedding is off. I can’t marry you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have nothing to offer a wife now.”

  The distress on her face caused his heart to constrict. There was no point in building up her hopes. He was soon to be homeless, without a job, and not a lot of money put aside. He now regretted spending so much money on the cabin. Poor, trusting George would be heartbroken to know what Edward had done.

  He had contemplated writing to the old man about it. What was the point of distressing him when it would do no good? Edward only needed to get his attorney brother-in-law to say his father was of unsound mind and it would virtually be impossible to prove otherwise.

  “How did you get here?” He tried to concentrate on what was happening here and now.

  “I rode.”

  “On your own? All those miles?” He could scarcely believe a little gal like her would do such a thing. What if something had happened to her on the way?