Short Straw Bride. Dallas Schulze

her aunt’s ability to find the most vulnerable place in which to slide the barb, Everyone in town knew about Mary Danvers running off with the corset salesman, but few people would have dared to mention the incident to her face. Since Zebediah Williams owned the other half of the bank, Dorinda felt safe in striking such a blow.

      “Anabel is such a pretty girl,” Millie Peters said hastily, her soft voice filling the taut silence. “It would hardly be a surprise if one of the McLain boys came courting.”

      “I wouldn’t wonder if they both came courting,” Dorinda said, forsaking modesty for maternal pride.

      Eleanor watched Anabel preen, and ground her teeth together. Just the thought of her spiteful little cousin clinging to Luke McLain’s arm made her want to plant her foot firmly in Anabel’s fanny.

       Chapter Three

      “A girl with a gentle temperament—that’s what I want.” Luke narrowed his eyes against the sun. “One who won’t throw fits at a man.”

      “The woman ain’t been born that won’t throw a fit.” Daniel reached into his pocket for his tobacco pouch and papers.

      The brothers were riding back to the Bar-M-Bar, walking their horses in the midafternoon sun. After church they’d had lunch with Reverend Mulligan, who’d done his best to talk Luke out of his determination to find a wife.

      What about love? the older man had asked, running his fingers through his thinning hair. Though he’d been loath to admit it, the question had given Luke pause. It had made him think of the bonds between his mother and father, of the way they’d seemed to complete each other. After her husband’s death Lucinda McLain had carried on, but there’d been something missing, a light that no longer shone in her eyes.

      But love like that was a rare thing, he told himself. And he couldn’t afford to spend his life hoping he’d be lucky enough to find such a thing for himself. Besides, he was a little old to be chasing after dreams like that. If he hadn’t found a great love by now, he wasn’t likely to find it, especially not with the ranch demanding most of his time. Even if he wanted to go off on some wild-goose chase to find a woman he could love, he didn’t have the time for it. No, a marriage based on more practical considerations would suit him just fine.

      “You see any likely-looking girls?” Daniel’s question dragged Luke’s thoughts back to the present. Daniel finished rolling his cigarette and flicked his thumbnail over a match to light it. Cupping his hands to shield it, he lit his cigarette, his eyes sliding to his brother as he shook out the match. “There were pretty girls there. If I’d known there were so many pretty churchgoing girls, I might have been more inclined to pay my respects to the Lord on a regular basis.”

      “Careful. You don’t want to find yourself on the wrong end of a father’s shotgun.” Luke paused and then grinned. “Of course, if you did, there wouldn’t be any reason for me to get married.”

      “I’ve got no intention of doing anything foolish,” Daniel said, dashing any hopes he might have had. “Though, from the looks of some of those girls, I’m not sure it’d be such a hardship to take one to wife. That redhead wasn’t hard on the eyes, and a little temper might make life interesting. A little fire can be a good thing.”

      “In a horse, maybe, but not in a wife. My life is interesting enough.” Luke let the reins go slack as he reached for his own makings and began to roll himself a cigarette.

      “What about the dark one? The widow. She was easy on the eyes.”

      Luke considered Letty Sinclair briefly and then shook his head. “Sean says she lives on her own. A woman who’s been living on her own is likely to be set in her ways. I want a girl who’s willing to get set in my ways.”

      “How about the one with the yellow hair?” Daniel suggested. “I can’t say I’d mind looking at that one over the breakfast table.”

      “Too young.” Luke dismissed Anabel Williams out of hand. “Besides, I’d bet my last dime there’s a streak of mean in that one that’d make a man’s life mighty unpleasant. And a girl that pretty probably spends half her time in front of a looking glass, admiring her own reflection.”

      Luke lit his cigarette and narrowed his eyes against the drift of smoke. “What I want is a girl who’s not so young that she’s got her head all full of romantic notions but not old enough to be set in her ways. Pleasant enough looking that it won’t be hard to go about the business of having sons with her but not so pretty that she’ll expect me to spend all my time admiring her. She’s got to be strong and willing to work.”

      “That’s quite a shopping list,” Daniel said. He reached up to tilt his hat down a bit, the better to shield his eyes from the afternoon sun. “You see a girl you think might live up to it?”

      “Eleanor Williams,” Luke said, drawing on the cigarette.

      “Don’t remember meeting an Eleanor Williams,” Daniel said after a moment. He blew out a thin stream of smoke and frowned at the endless vista of prairie ahead of them. “She wasn’t the one with the nose like a buzzard, was she?”

      “No.” Luke shot him an irritated glance, though he couldn’t have said just why it annoyed him that Daniel didn’t remember the girl.

      “She was the one standing next to the girl with the yellow hair. The cousin.”

      “The one wearing the god-awful hat,” Daniel said, making the proper identification.

      “Her choice of headgear don’t interest me,” Luke said shortly. Privately, he promised himself that the first thing he’d do when they got married was burn that hat.

      “There ain’t much to her,” Daniel said, just as he had when Luke had asked Sean Mulligan about her.

      “I’m looking for a wife, not a pack mule,” Luke said irritably.

      “Need some of the same qualities in both,” Daniel said. “Strong and steady, even-tempered—” He caught his brother’s annoyed look and broke off but there was nothing repentant about his grin. “Course, I’ve never seen a pack mule I wanted to share a bed with.”

      “Pack mule’s got more sense than to look at the likes of you,” Luke said.

      “So you think Ellen Williams is the one?”

      “Eleanor,” Luke corrected automatically. “And I won’t know till I’ve had a chance to talk to her a bit more.”

      “I don’t know, Luke. Marrying’s a serious business.” The laughter died out of Daniel’s eyes, which were the same clear gray as his brother’s. “Maybe this ain’t such a good idea, after all. Maybe we ought to just forget the whole idea and try another housekeeper.”

      If he’d thought about it, Luke would have said that he wanted nothing more than to give up the idea of finding himself a wife. And here was Daniel, saying that he should give it up. He opened his mouth to agree that it had been a dumb idea from the start and that they should put it behind them. And found himself remembering Eleanor Williams’s big brown eyes, the shy smile in them and heard her voice saying that she’d lived in Black Dog six years, four months and twelve days.

      “I said I was going to find a wife and that’s what I’m going to do,” he heard himself say stubbornly.

      Out of the corner of his eye he saw Daniel’s surprised look. Since he was no less surprised himself, the last thing he wanted to do was talk about his decision. He nudged the gray into a canter, effectively putting an end to the conversation. For some reason, the idea of having a wife just didn’t seem as bad as it once had.

      

      The Wednesday after he and Daniel attended church, Luke found himself driving the buckboard into Black Dog to pick