The Wrangler's Mail Order Bride (2 page)

BOOK: The Wrangler's Mail Order Bride
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Chapter 2

T
he three-day
train ride had gone by quickly for Clara. She slept most of the way, exhausted by the sheer activity of helping Robert and Margaret pack for their move to New York. It had been a bittersweet week—they’d tried every day to change her mind—but she’d held steadfast. That alone had been exhausting, not to mention the wrapping of delicate china, clocks and trinkets—all the while assuring Margaret that her trip to Arizona Territory wouldn’t be the end of her.

“You don’t even know this person,” Margaret said almost every day. Sometimes more than once a day.

Clara had held firm in her decision, explaining that Sadie and Suzanne had spoken highly of Hank Archer, and reminded Margaret that they’d all known Sadie, Suzanne and their parents their whole lives. She trusted them, and she encouraged Margaret to do the same.

By the time she’d actually gotten on the train and waved her final goodbyes to Robert, who was trying very hard to smile, and Margaret, who was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, she was ready to go. Exhausted, but ready. When she’d fallen asleep, it had been a sleep borne of countless waking hours and she sunk into it, rousing only for necessities and food, missing the changing scenery.

She blinked the sleep out of her eyes as the conductor came through and shouted, “Next stop, Benson, Arizona Territory. Thirty minutes to Benson.”

She turned and watched him as he exited into the following car, stunned that the entire trip had gone by so quickly. She sat up straight, her muscles objecting as she stretched. Used to long hours in the bakery, she stood and stretched more, oblivious to the glances of the other passengers. Out the window, strange vegetation whizzed past—she thought maybe there were cactuses but she’d never seen one. As she straightened her hair and tucked it back under her crumpled hat, the cactuses gave way to tall trees as they crossed a bridge over a river—or at least a riverbed. Frost hung in the trees and the riverbed was dry, but as she placed her hand on the window, she smiled at the warmth it transmitted. It was nowhere near as cold as Chicago.

She’d written Sadie with her arrival date but hadn’t heard back from her—one of the reasons for Margaret’s near-hysterics. Her family hadn’t wanted her to get on the train with no guaranteed party waiting for her. Clara’s smile spread, though, as the train pulled into the station and Sadie’s warm grin met her as she stood, arm in arm, with a tall, very handsome man that Clara assumed was her new husband, Tripp.

She hopped off the train nearly as soon as it came to a full stop. Dropping her valise, she rushed into Sadie’s open arms, holding tightly to her friend. Sadie pulled back, clasping Clara’s hands. “Oh, dear Clara. We’re so happy to see you, and thrilled that you’d decided to take Hank up on his offer—well, to help him, actually.”

Clara pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her face, wishing she’d taken the time to look in a mirror. She looked from her friend—certainly a sight for sore eyes—to the man smiling next to her.

Sadie laughed and grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. “Clara, this is my husband, Tripp Morgan.” She smiled, looking up at him proudly, her arm through his. She leaned toward Clara, her hand to the side of her mouth, and whispered, “He’s a chef.”

Clara laughed, her heart warmed that her friend was so happy. And clearly in love.

“I’d heard that.” She held her hand out to the man with the shy smile who seemed not to be able to take his eyes off Sadie. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Morgan,” she said, shaking his hand.

“Same here, Miss Martin.” He gave her hand a shake, smiling. “Welcome, and we are so grateful that you decided to come.”

“I told Hank how lucky he was that you were willing. It only made him pull his hat down further and stalk away,” she said, hiding her laugh with her hand.

“And I can see why you said that now.” Tripp tipped his hat to Clara and made his way over to the pile of bags unloaded from the train.

As he walked away, Sadie put her arm through Clara’s and turned her toward the stagecoach. “Isn’t he wonderful?” She could hardly take her eyes off of Tripp, either, and Clara wondered if it would ever be that way for her, smiling at her friend’s happiness.

“And wait until you meet Hank. I really think this is a truly fortunate match. For both of you.”

Clara squeezed her friend’s arm. “I’m a little nervous, now that I’m here. It seemed like just a—well, a good idea, but now it’s feeling more real.” Her breath quickened as she thought about all of the things that it meant to be a real wife. And wasn’t sure at all that she even knew what those things were.

“Don’t worry. We have a long ride in the stagecoach, at least two hours. We didn’t want you to have to ride alone, not knowing where you were and all. And the restaurant is closed today, so we came up to fetch you.”

“And I’m so glad you did,” Clara said. “I really don’t even know where I am.” She looked around at the strange surroundings. Buildings were much taller in Chicago than here in Arizona Territory, and the roads were even different.

Sadie guided her toward the waiting coach and Tripp handed her bags to the driver. Clara’s cheeks flushed as Tripp opened the door for them, waving them in ahead of him, and sneaked a quick peck on Sadie’s cheek. “Tripp, stop that, now. We’re in public.”

Tripp laughed as he stepped in and closed the door behind him. Clara glanced at Sadie, whose big, blue eyes were turned to Tripp. It was easy to tell that she really hadn’t mind the kiss at all.

Chapter 3


I
hope
you don’t mind that Hank didn’t come along to meet you.” Sadie still had her arm through Tripp’s, where it had rested the entire trip. “We thought you might like to rest—and maybe freshen up a bit.”

Clara’s hands flew to her hair, tucking it back into the pins it had fallen out of. “Oh, is it that bad?”

Sadie laughed, patting her friend’s knee. “No, of course not. You look lovely. I just remember the long journey and how grateful I was for a hot bath, a good meal and a real bed.”

She squeezed Tripp’s hand as he turned and smiled at her. “Yes, and it was nice for me to have a chance to get ready. I was nervous, too.”

Sadie’s eyes grew wide. “Tripp Morgan, you never told me you were nervous, too.”

“How could I not be? I was marrying someone I’d never met. Why do you think I made every dish I could think of to try to impress you?” He kissed his wife’s forehead and turned to Clara. “And knowing Hank, I’m pretty sure he’s feeling a little unsettled, too.”

Clara sighed as she watched the river flowing alongside the road. “You know, Sadie, you told me very little in the letter you wrote. All I know is that he is a wrangler—and I don’t even know what that is. And that he needs a wife to inherit property.”

Tripp set his hat beside him on the seat and leaned forward, smiling. “I can’t say what kind of husband he’ll be, but I can fill you in on Hank Archer, the way I know him.”

“Hank and Tripp grew up as brothers,” Sadie added as she straightened her skirts. “They are very close.”

“Yes, we are. He is like a brother to me. And we rode the trail together for years and years.”

“The trail?” Clara took the pins out of her hat and set it aside as well. She rubbed her sore shoulder muscles and waited for Tripp to continue.

He leaned back in his seat, taking Sadie’s hand in his. “Hank’s father, Beau, is a well-known and successful rancher here around Tombstone. He has the largest herd of cattle in southern Arizona Territory. Cattle need to move…to graze and be sold…and Hank and I rode the trail from here to Texas every season to get the cattle where they needed to be.”

Clara’s eyes flew open. “You rode from here all the way to Texas? With cows?”

Tripp cleared his throat. “Not cows, Clara. Don’t let the Archer family hear you call them cows.”

Sadie laughed at Clara’s surprised expression, reaching over and patting her knee once more. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn all of this. It can be overwhelming.”

“It can. I was the cook on the trail and Hank was the best wrangler we had.”

“What exactly is a wrangler?” Clara asked, not remembering that in the book she’d brought.

“A wrangler is the man who handles the extra horses. We need to take three horses per hand, so there are spares. Hank is great at it. Best I’ve ever seen. He keeps them in line like nobody else.”

Clara sighed, wondering what she’d gotten herself into. She had only seen horses from afar, the two most recently being the only ones she’d ever touched. And while she’d felt responsible for them, wanting to help, her knowledge and experience were—to put it mildly—very limited.

Tripp eyed her, and added, “Don’t worry. You won’t be expected to have anything to do with the cattle or horses. That’s Beau and Hank’s world.”

“Well, what
will
I be doing?” Clara realized she only knew how to cook and bake, really. Yes, she loved animals, but really had no experience with them. She hoped she wouldn’t be expected to milk a cow. She was used to getting milk delivered every morning, in glass bottles on the front stoop of the house.

She blinked hard when Tripp said, “If you’re worried about having to milk a cow, don’t be. Hank’s got sisters, and they each have a job. Pepper and Rosemary are the cow-milkers.”

“Pepper and Rosemary?” Clara asked. “Sisters?” Her mouth went dry. She’d only had Robert, her very much older brother, and wasn’t sure what to expect with so many…sisters.

Sadie nodded her head reassuringly. “Yes. Nutmeg, Rosemary, Sage, Saffron, Tarragon and Pepper. Their mother, Katie, was a fabulous cook and taught Tripp a great deal of what he knows. She had an herb garden she tended every day, hence the girls’ names. She died not long ago. So they’re all in that big, rambling house, trying to find their way. But they are very sweet girls.”

Tripp and Sadie exchanged glances before Tripp continued. “It’s been a rough time for them—for all of us, losing Katie. I’m sure Hank will tell you all about it, but we thought it might help for you to be prepared. It’s a full house.”

Clara’s heart tugged at the thought of a family of that size—any size, really—losing their mother. One that was obviously loved. She wondered how she could help, how she would fit in.

“You’ll see tomorrow. You’re the guest of honor at the ranch for lunch. You’ll meet everybody then. And you can get to know Hank. I do know that they’re in a hurry for you to get married. I heard there was some sort of timeline in his grandpa’s will that said he had to be married within a month after his death to inherit the property. And that’s soon.”

Clara shook her head, her mind fuzzy as she tried to piece things together. “I don’t understand why that would be in his grandpa’s will. As a requirement.”

“Nobody understands it, Clara. This was Katie’s father, and she’s not here to shed any light on why this might have happened. It was a big surprise to everybody, including Beau and Hank. All anybody knows is that a wife is what it will take to inherit the land. And it’s land that Beau feels will be very important to the ranching operations,” Tripp explained.

Sadie cleared her throat. “Yes, Beau feels it’s important, so it’s important.”

“Now, Sadie…” Tripp took her hand and squeezed it.

“I’m sorry. I just have my opinions.”

Clara and Tripp both burst out laughing. “Oh, so you know that too, Tripp?” Clara said as Sadie narrowed her eyes at them both.

“Yes, I do. Seems we have much in common, Clara. Understanding Sadie is one of them.”

“And admiring her, of course,” Clara said with a twinkle in her eye as she looked at her friend and realized how much she’d missed her.

Clara’s heart skipped a beat as she realized where she was, and what she’d done. It suddenly hit her like a cold burst of air—she was in a different part of the country, completely foreign to her, and soon to be married to a man she’d never met. She shook her head at the strangeness of it all, wondering if she’d made the right decision.

She was relieved and comforted that Sadie liked Hank and Tripp seemed nice enough, but she sensed that there was more that they weren’t telling her. A wave of exhaustion washed over her and she suddenly longed for a bath—and a bed, just as Sadie had predicted. Closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the seat of the coach, her exhaustion got the best of her.

“Clara? Clara, are you all right?” Sadie said, leaning forward.

She slowly opened her eyes, rubbing them with her handkerchief. Tripp’s furrowed brow and Sadie’s frown shook her out of her musings.

“Oh, please don’t worry. It’s been a long journey, and I’m very tired. I wanted this—I do want this—and I’m very anxious to meet Hank. All of them, actually.

Her smile felt weak, but it was there. She hoped that after she’d gotten some rest, she might feel a little more like smiling. Right now, though, all she wanted was sleep. Tripp and Sadie fell silent as Clara’s head fell to the side, her mind free of worry—for now.

BOOK: The Wrangler's Mail Order Bride
9.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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