Cowboy Seeks a Bride. Louise M. Gouge

had made a few plans of his own. He’d envisioned someone who could grow a kitchen garden and a family and give him a little intellectual companionship on cold Colorado evenings. If he’d just married one of the gals who always smiled so sweetly at him in church, he wouldn’t be sitting here feeling like a complete fool. But he also wouldn’t have a bride who could talk about something other than the price of cattle or how the weather affected the crops.

      Probably intent on listening to their conversation, Lucy sidled up next to him and gave his shoulder a sisterly nudge with her elbow as she held out the coffeepot.

      “You must be missing Seamus.” He held his cup while she poured.

      Lucy shrugged. “If you see him, tell him I do miss him.” She sniffed. “Don’t know why he has to be the one up in the hills with all them cattle all summer long. I don’t have nothing to do on my days off.”

      Rand gave her a sympathetic smile. “He’s the trail boss because he’s the best man for the job. You can be proud of him for that.”

      “Humph. And what am I supposed to do while he’s out there?” Lucy poured coffee for Marybeth and then took Rand’s empty plate in her free hand. With a swish of her skirt that brushed fabric against his forearm, she headed back toward the kitchen.

      Eyeing Lucy with a hint of disapproval, Marybeth put two lumps of sugar and a dash of cream in her cup, stirred and lifted the drink to her lips. Her graceful hands looked like white porcelain and her little fingers posed in refined arches as she held the cup. Beautiful, elegant hands, but not hands for a rancher’s wife. What had his folks been thinking? This young lady was entirely too genteel.

      Or maybe as she’d traveled farther west, she’d realized what she’d gotten herself into. Too bad he couldn’t blame Maisie for this turn of events, but that wouldn’t be fair. Even if she spilled the whole story, with her upbringing as a rancher’s daughter, of course she’d be proud of his killing a horse thief.

      Well, one thing was sure. With Marybeth making it clear they wouldn’t be getting married anytime soon, if at all, he could postpone telling her about the fatal gunfight. He had no doubt Maisie had blabbed the story, so when they did get around to talking about it, he would have to reassure Marybeth that he wasn’t proud of killing a man, no matter what other people thought. On the other hand, he was still responsible for her since she’d come all this way to meet him. Best get this all figured out.

      “Now about that job you mentioned, how do you plan on getting it?” He couldn’t keep the rancor out of his voice.

      She lifted her chin and gazed down her pretty little nose at him. “As I said, I plan to work for a lawyer or in the bank.” She blinked in a charming, innocent way. “You do have a bank, don’t you? I thought I saw one on our way here.”

      “Yes, we have a bank. But everybody knows that’s a man’s job. Besides, what makes you think Mr. Means is going to hire you?” Rand felt justified being a little cross. Not only was Nolan Means young, wealthy and good-looking, he kept trying to finagle his way into community leadership, something the Northam family carefully controlled to keep out unsavory elements.

      Marybeth’s hazel eyes flashed at his challenge. “I will have you know I am very good with accounts. Not only that, but with my typewriting ability, I will be a great asset. If Mr....Mr. Means, is it? If he doesn’t need an accountant or secretary, I am certain some businessman in this growing town will be happy to employ someone with my skills.”

      Rand gazed at her, admiration mingled with annoyance. The girl had spirit, that was certain. But as he watched her, something else became evident in her bright hazel eyes—a look he’d seen in green gamblers who just realized they’d gotten themselves into a game with seasoned cardsharps. She had a secret, one that scared her. Why on earth did she think coming out West would solve her problems? But here she was, and despite her postponement—maybe even her cancellation—of the wedding, he had every intention of sticking to his plans to take care of her. A Christian man always kept his word, always saw to his responsibilities.

      Bolstered with that thought, Rand scratched behind his ear and gave Marybeth one of his best “aw shucks” grins. “Well, Marybeth, I wish you all the best. And I will pray for your success.”

      Her eyes widened and she seemed to struggle a moment before answering. “Why, thank you, Rand. How very kind.”

      He shrugged. “I’ve been praying for you since last January when Mother first wrote to me about you.”

      “Oh.” She looked down at her coffee cup. “Thank you.”

      He frowned. She seemed confused by his mention of prayer. Yet Mother had assured him she was a Christian. A real one, not someone who just went through the motions in church. Maybe she’d fooled them all. That meant he had more than one responsibility for this little gal. He had to take care of her and get her saved. He would take her to church every Sunday and let her hear some of Reverend Thomas’s fine sermons. If he’d listened to those sermons when he should have, he’d never have killed a man, no matter how threatened he’d felt.

      Another thing he could do for Marybeth was to write to the sheriff in Wagon Wheel Gap to see if he’d come across a man matching Jimmy O’Brien’s description. Maybe if Rand found her brother, she’d forget working and decide to settle down with him. On the other hand, he needed to find out what she was hiding before he could marry her. That was quite a quandary, one the Lord would have to sort out.

      “If you’re done with your coffee, I’ll take you over to Mrs. Foster’s. She’ll put you up until—” He shook his head. No longer could he think until the wedding. “Until you get things worked out.”

      He stood, pulled a half dollar out of his pocket and dropped it on the table to pay for their dinner, adding a nickel for Lucy’s tip. When Marybeth continued to stare at him with some sort of unreadable expression, he sighed as he snagged his hat off of the peg.

      “I guess I should ask if that’s all right with you.”

      She gave him a tentative smile and her eyes seemed to glisten. “Yes, it’s fine. Thank you. You’re very kind, considering...”

      Rand ducked his head to put on his hat and to hide a grin. Her eyes held that secretive look again, but this time with even more uncertainty. Maybe he had a chance with this pretty little lady, after all. And maybe his older brother could offer some tips on how to win a gal determined not to like him.

Chapter Two

      “Shall we go?” Rand held out his arm and Marybeth set a hand on it.

      Once again she could feel his muscles rippling through his fine cotton shirt. How nice it would be to depend upon such a strong man. But Da had also been strong before his final drink-induced illness, and his excellent physique had housed a deceitful soul. In fact, Marybeth had met few men, sturdy or weak, who kept their word. Was Jimmy any different, or had he become like Da? She’d prayed for years he hadn’t fallen into such sinful ways, but she didn’t hold out too much hope. After all, the American West was known for its lawlessness. Maybe Jimmy had chosen that path.

      Even if he had, she was determined to find him and make him hand over the silver locket. Mam had told her it contained the key to a treasure that would take care of Marybeth all her life. Although Jimmy probably didn’t know what lay hidden behind the tintype picture of their family, the locket still belonged to Marybeth. Of course she would share the fortune with him. Too bad Mam hadn’t claimed the treasure herself and used it to escape Da and his abuse. Knowing him, he would have found her and forced her to turn over the money so he could gamble it away or use it in one of his get-rich schemes that always failed. The man had never known how to tell the truth or make a wise decision, other than marrying a good woman like Mam.

      “It’s not far, just six blocks.” Rand glanced down at her high-top shoes, already covered with dust from the unpaved street. “But we can get a buggy if it’s too far