Cowboy Seeks a Bride. Louise M. Gouge

of refinement Dad hoped to add to the community.

      Marybeth’s letters had informed him that she liked music, liked to read, enjoyed cooking and housekeeping; the usual feminine qualities to make a man eager to go home at the end of the day. Her beauty was just a bonus. Not that he deserved any of it, of course. But maybe this was another example of God’s grace toward an unworthy sinner.

      “Here we are.” He steered her toward Williams’s Café and swung the door inward to let her enter first. The aroma of simmering chicken and freshly baked bread poured over them, whetting his appetite.

      Before stepping over the threshold, Marybeth gave him a tremulous smile, causing his heart to bounce around inside his chest. The sweet little thing was skittish, bless her heart. Of course, he felt a bit nervous, too. Maybe by the time they finished dinner, they’d feel more comfortable with each other. Sharing a meal could have that effect on a person.

      “Hello, Rand.” Mrs. Williams, proprietor and chief cook, gave him a wave from the kitchen door. “Take any seat you like.”

      “Thanks, Miss Pam. Come over and meet my...meet Miss O’Brien.” Stopping short of calling Marybeth his bride, Rand paused to hang his hat on the wall peg. He led her to a table beside the wide front window where both of them would be able to watch the passersby. It was also far enough away from the half dozen other customers to keep their conversation fairly private.

      “Welcome to Esperanza, honey.” Miss Pam walked across the recently enlarged dining room and held a floured hand out to Marybeth. Seeming to think better of it, she brushed the hand on her white apron and chuckled. “Oops. I just finished making dumplings to go with the stewed chicken, so let’s not get any flour on those nice gloves.”

      “How do you do, Miss Pam?” Her smile warm and friendly, Marybeth seemed to catch on real quick to the casual way things were done out here, another attractive quality in Rand’s mind. “Chicken and dumplings sounds wonderful.”

      “Miss Pam’s are the best,” Rand said. “Make that two.”

      “Coming right up.” Miss Pam signaled Lucy, her waitress, before returning to her kitchen.

      Lucy took their order for coffee. When she brought it, she gave Rand a surreptitious wink and then went about serving the other customers. Rand doubted the wink held any other meaning than teasing because Lucy and his best friend, Seamus, were courting.

      As Marybeth removed her tan kid gloves, she glanced around the room and out the window, her shyness apparent. Rand gently captured one hand across the narrow table, hoping to likewise capture her gaze. Her long, slender fingers felt just right in his grasp, except for the tiny tremor in them. He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

      “I’m glad you’re finally here.” Not the smartest thing to say, but all he could think of.

      She looked startled. Frightened almost. The long trip from Boston must have worn her down. “Where can I find a place to stay?” The way her gaze darted around the room, she reminded him of a rabbit trying to escape a dog pack.

      Hadn’t she heard his remark about lodging? Did she see something in him to cause her concern? Rand swallowed hard. If he didn’t have such faith in his parents’ choice, he would think this was all a mistake. Instead of being happy or even interested in being in his company, Marybeth almost seemed afraid.

      Then it struck him. She knew. Someone, probably Maisie, had told her the one thing Dad had insisted was Rand’s responsibility to tell her. Now she was frightened of him, and he had no idea how to go about soothing away her fears and assuring her of his constant efforts to live for the Lord.

      * * *

      There it was, the tiny hardening in Rand’s expression that signaled the beginning of his anger. Oh, he’d find a way to cover it until they were alone. Then she’d pay. Just as Mam never knew exactly what had displeased Da, Marybeth had no idea what she’d done to anger Rand. Now his perfectly formed face was lined with a winsome sort of sadness, just like Da when he sobered up and felt ashamed for his brutality.

      Rand cleared his throat. “We planned to have you stay with my brother and his wife, but Susanna’s expecting her second— Uh-oh, sorry. Maybe where you come from, folks don’t talk about such things.”

      Marybeth hid her surprise at his comment. Indeed, such matters were never discussed at Fairfield Young Ladies’ Academy. However, in the lower class neighborhood where she’d grown up, people never held back when discussing the hows and whys of childbirth. Rand’s concern for her sensibilities spoke well of him. It was a quality more in keeping with the man his parents had recommended to her so highly.

      “I certainly understand why Susanna doesn’t need company right now.” She offered a little shrug to indicate a lack of concern, just the opposite of what she felt. Being in another woman’s house could provide protection. “Perhaps a hotel?” She would have to take a job to pay for it, but she’d planned to do so anyway. Her purse was empty, and traveling to Wagon Wheel Gap to search for her brother, Jimmy, would require another season of earning the funds to do so.

      “Another uh-oh.” He smiled and grimaced at the same time, a wickedly attractive expression. Oh, Lord, guard my heart against this man’s charms. “We don’t have a hotel. My father plans to bring in a hotelier from back East, maybe even England. He’s working on that and a lot of other things to build up the town. Of course that doesn’t help us right now.”

      Before alarm could take hold of Marybeth, Lucy arrived with two bowls of steaming chicken and dumplings. Once again Rand took her hand. This time he bowed his head and lifted a short, sincere-sounding prayer of thanks for the food. Emotion churned through Marybeth’s chest like a roiling sea. Da had prayed, too. Magnificent prayers in his lilting Irish brogue, prayers God would surely hear for their beauty. Yet he never changed, never improved his ways. She set aside the memories but would never permit herself to forget them, lest she end up like Mam.

      “Can I bring you anything else?” The waitress gave Rand a simpering smile at odds with her tomboyish swagger. She was flirting with him, but from his friendly, “No, thank you,” Marybeth could see he was oblivious to her attempts to get his attention. An odd sort of jealousy smote Marybeth. No, that was just silly. Not jealousy at all. Simply an awareness of the girl’s bad manners in flirting with a man when he was in the company of another woman.

      They wordlessly began to eat and Marybeth’s appetite roared into command. If not for the two years spent at Fairfield Young Ladies’ Academy, paid for by the ladies of her Boston church, she would shovel the delicious food into her mouth just as she had as a child.

      “About where you’re going to stay...” Lifting the shaker next to the salt, Rand added a healthy dash of pepper to his dinner. “Mrs. Foster is the local piano teacher and church organist, and she’s got an extra room. She’ll be mighty glad for the company because her husband died last year and she’s still at loose ends. She’s an older lady and a bit talkative, but kind as can be. I hope that meets with your approval.”

      The doubt and apology in his voice, along with his sorrowful wince as he mentioned the husband’s death, gave Marybeth pause. He possessed all the outward trappings of a gentle, thoughtful man. But so had Da.

      “It’s very kind of you to arrange that, Rand.” She offered a polite smile that hid her relief over not having to worry about lodging.

      Confusion clouded his expression. “Did you think I wouldn’t find proper lodging for you?” His tone held a note of injury.

      “W-well.” Her chest tightened into a familiar knot. Had she touched a nerve? Was he angry? “No, of course not. I mean, yes, of course you would.”

      He shook his head and chuckled. “Now that I think of it, when we were writing, I don’t believe we addressed the topic of where you would stay.” He gave his head a little shake. “An unfortunate oversight.”

      “Yes, that’s it.” The knot in her chest eased. “Just an oversight.”

      They’d