Cassandra (Bride Brigade Book 3) Read online

  He took her hand and stood facing her. “Sounds nice but reckon I’d better get back to the ranch. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me on a picnic for lunch on Wednesday?”

  “I’d enjoy that. I haven’t seen much of the area.” She noticed the crowd had thinned.

  “I’ll call for you at eleven.” Sam released her hand and bowed. “Until then, take care, Cassie.”

  ***

  That evening in her room, Cassandra carefully replaced her dress in the trunk. There simply wasn’t enough armoire space for all her clothes. On the other hand, Angeline had almost no clothes with her.

  Angeline watched from the armchair. “You and the cowboy seemed to make a nice couple. He’s very handsome.”

  “He certainly is but Bart Tucker owns the bank. I don’t want to be poor, Angeline. I hope to bring my brother here and offer him a secure life.”

  “Do you know how to keep house? Lydia is helping teach those of us who don’t.”

  She paused and looked at the other woman before closing the trunk. “Oh, I know how but that doesn’t mean I like doing those things.”

  “All I want is a man who’ll be kind to me and… you know.” She touched her stomach.

  “You’ll find someone, I’m sure of it. But you need to smile more. The only time you smile is when you’re talking to the elderly. I swear, you need to be perky at these functions, Angeline, and not so timid.”

  “I can’t help my nature. Besides, now I’m gaining weight and popping out of my clothes. If you hadn’t helped me sew, I wouldn’t have anything to wear.”

  “But you do, so give yourself a chance next time. Promise me.”

  Her roommate offered a wry smile. “All right. I’ll try.”

  Chapter Two

  Monday afternoon, Mrs. Murphy told Cassandra she had a caller. When she reached the parlor, she found Bart Tucker waiting. He rose from the settee when he spotted her.

  “Ah, Miss Bradford. I hope I’m not being too forward calling on you this afternoon. I saw you in church yesterday but didn’t get a chance to speak to you. So many crowding me and asking questions about investments, you know.” He smoothed a finger across his dark brown mustache.

  “A pleasure to see you, Mr. Tucker.” She wondered what kissing a mustached man would be like. Would the hair on his lip be soft or stiff?

  He gestured to the front of the house. “I have my carriage outside if you’d care to go for a drive.”

  “Perhaps a short ride. Just give me time to get my parasol and let someone know where I’ll be.”

  She hurried upstairs. At the landing, she passed Rachel. “Would you please tell Lydia I’ve gone for a short drive with Mr. Tucker?”

  Rachel’s brown eyes twinkled. “Happy to. Lucky you, have fun.”

  With parasol in hand, she returned. “The afternoon is pleasant, isn’t it?”

  He offered his arm. “I ordered it especially for you.”

  Outside, she noticed his carriage. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had a covered buggy. I don’t suppose I’ll need my parasol.”

  “You can’t be too careful with skin as delicate as yours appears, my dear.” He helped her into the carriage then came around to climb onto the seat. With a click of the reins they were on their way.

  “I’ll take you on a tour of the town before we try the countryside. You’ve seen the church and probably the mercantile.” He named who owned the businesses and homes they passed.

  “I suppose you know everyone in town.”

  “Oh, yes. Everyone either banks money or borrows it, sometimes both. I’m privy to considerable personal information, but I never divulge details. I feel our clients deserve no less.”

  He must wield a lot of power. “Of course. I’m pleased to know you’re an honorable man.”

  “Rules are made to be followed. I set up guidelines for the bank and hold to them. People either qualify for a loan or they don’t.”

  She glanced at him. “Aren’t there times when you ease the rules enough to save someone? I mean, the person’s integrity would make a lot of difference, wouldn’t it?”

  His face appeared stern. “No way to run a business, Miss Bradford. People trust me to guard their money. If I offer unsuitable loans then the bank could fail and people would lose their money. You see why it’s important to follow the rules?”

  “I understand your point.” But she thought there were extenuating circumstances where easing restrictions slightly might save a person’s future. Well, she wasn’t a bank owner, so perhaps Mr. Tucker was correct.

  They drove by a home that was larger than any of the others they’d passed in town, but couldn’t compare to Lydia’s.

  He stopped the carriage. “This is my home.”

  The two-story house had a large wrap-around porch. It was white with black trim. She thought that was fitting, for it matched his viewpoint on life.

  He surveyed his dwelling then turned to her. “I’m sorry I can’t invite you in because the staff is off this afternoon. Can’t sully your reputation.”

  She snapped, “Certainly not. We’d need a chaperone, preferably Lydia or one of the others in her home.”

  He flicked the reins and they resumed their drive. “I’m glad you understand the importance of a good reputation.”

  His tone irritated her, but he was a man of wealth and position. She wanted to change the subject from banking or her. “Mr. Tucker, where did you grow up? Where did you live before you came here?”

  “I’m from Pennsylvania. My family is still there in a town near Philadelphia. My father owns the bank founded by my grandfather.”

  “Sounds like a nice life. With family there, I’m surprised you’d leave.”

  He stared ahead, his jaw set. “I have an older brother who’ll inherit the reins of that bank from my father. I wanted to forge ahead and build my own empire.”

  His family must have given him the money he used to set up his bank. “That’s understandable and admirable. You’ve certainly accomplished a great deal in three years.”

  He practically beamed. “How good of you to recognize my hard work. Building confidence when you’re a stranger is not easy.”

  She agreed with him there. “But you’ve managed.”

  “If we stayed on this road long enough, we’d reach Strawn, but of course we won’t drive that far. Nice town, though.”

  They were in the countryside now and she scanned the sides of the road. “Lydia said the Indian troubles have ended. I hope that’s true.”

  “Yes, last raid was in the north part of the county a couple of years ago. Fellow named Stone rescued the young boy who was kidnapped and ended up with Kiowa. Man must have nerves of steel to go up into Indian Territory after the child. Surprised he still has his scalp.”

  She couldn’t suppress a gasp. “The child was kidnapped? I’m glad they didn’t kill him.”

  He deftly turned the carriage back toward town. “As I’ve been told, the loss of so many of their warriors had some collecting boys to adopt into the tribe. They often killed the parents, but took many children with them as they raided for horses.”

  Memories of her family’s tragedy filled her mind. “How terrible not only to see your parents killed but to be kidnapped as well.”

  He shook his head. “I hate to think of their lives. Fortunately, you won’t see any hostile Indians here. But let’s talk of more pleasant things. How do you like our little town so far?”

  “I’m happy to be here. I’m sure Tarnation has a bright future.” At least, she hoped so now that her prospects were linked to that of the town.

  “Tarnation has grown since I’ve arrived. True, a few men left in search of a more diversified population. Lydia’s idea of importing you and the other young women has no doubt saved the town from further losses. Who knows, some of you young ladies might have friends and relatives who want to join you.”

  She didn’t mention Anna Young, who she thought might like to travel here. When Mr. Tucker escor
ted her to the door, she smiled and thanked him for a pleasant drive.

  “Miss Bradford, may I escort you to dinner on Thursday? Of course, we have only the one place to dine, but the food is good.”

  “I’d love to have dinner with you, Mr. Tucker.”

  “Then I’ll call for you at six.” He tipped his hat and departed.

  Elated at her progress, Cassandra went inside.

  Later that evening after dinner, Angeline sat beside her. “Well, how was your ride? Was the banker nice?”

  Cassandra sighed and considered how to word her reply. “He’s an interesting man who’s determined to make Tarnation his permanent home. He came from Pennsylvania where his family is in banking.”

  “From your tone I gather he still doesn’t make you want to swoon?”

  She couldn’t meet Angeline’s gaze. “He’d make an excellent husband. He has a large home with servants and he has a respected place in the community. In addition, he’s nice looking and well spoken.”

  Angeline tilted her head and pursed her lips. “Sounds as if you’re trying to convince yourself. Are you sure the banker is the man for you?”

  “There’s no reason not to be head over heels for the man. He has all I’ve dreamed of for a long time. Plus, he could help my brother obtain a sound education.”

  Angeline nudged her, teasing, “Maybe you need a man who makes you want to swoon, like your cowboy.”

  Certainly a cowboy did not fit her plans at all. “Harrumph. He’s hardly mine. Besides, I can’t marry the cowboy. I have goals and I can’t accomplish them married to him.”

  “Perhaps you need to reevaluate your goals.” Angeline touched her arm. “Cassandra, I’ve seen the way you look at Mr. Drummond and the way he looks at you. Believe me, Mr. Tucker doesn’t look at you like that. More importantly, you certainly don’t look at him with that dreamy light in your eyes.”

  Appalled, she asked, “You think I have a dreamy light in my eyes when I look at Sam?”

  “There’s no doubt—just like he does when he looks at you.”

  She brought her hands to her cheeks. “I hope no one else thinks that. Has anyone said anything?”

  “With so many men and so few of us, the other girls have too much going on in their own lives to worry about yours.”

  “And what about you? Have you picked out a man yet?”

  Angeline sighed. “What would be the point?”

  “Angeline,” she scolded. “You can’t sit around dallying. Start mingling. Talk to men when you’re walking around town.”

  Her roommate rolled her eyes. “What? Go into their businesses and start a conversation? What reason would I have to go to the freight office or the barber shop? Really, I’ll have to wait until Lydia’s dance.”

  “Let’s go up and work on your clothes. You’ll want to finish the gray dress before the next event.”

  Chapter Three

  Cassandra and Angeline worked steadily on Angeline’s clothes. Actually, Cassandra sewed while Angeline visited the sick and elderly. Why she so enjoyed going out of her way to read to and do errands for others when she had a huge packet of problems was beyond Cassandra. She admired Angeline’s dedication to helping those less fortunate but the young woman needed to take herself in hand and find a husband.

  On Wednesday, Sam called for her as arranged. Instead of a carriage, he drove a farm wagon as if he’d come to town for supplies. A disappointed sigh escaped through her lips. Maybe he had to pick up feed or groceries after their picnic.

  She wore a lavender sprigged muslin dress trimmed in lace with a matching hat and carried her white parasol. Today, she’d need its protection. Sam helped her climb onto the seat and she spotted a large basket behind the bench.

  When Sam had clambered beside her, she smiled at him. “That basket looks large enough to feed a lot of people.”

  His brown eyes sparkled. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve picked out a place but it’s about an hour away. You can see the range where I work.”

  “That should be interesting. Can you tell me something about yourself?”

  “Not anything exciting to tell. I’m thirty-two. Rode through here when I was twenty-one and fell in love with the land. Been working here ever since.”

  “You didn’t fight in the war?”

  “Nope, didn’t think there should have been one. Wanted no part of that mess.” He met her gaze. “Don’t think I was afraid to fight. We had a lot going on here while the soldiers were busy shooting at one another.”

  “Indians?”

  “You’re right there, but we had as much trouble with white men as Indians. Rustlers and robbers, though sometimes they tried to make us think they were Indians. There’s no excuse for thieves stealing what another man’s worked hard to have.”

  “I agree. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

  He laughed. “I was shot several times. Too ornery to die I reckon.”

  “Where did you live before you came to Tarnation?”

  “Illinois. Still have kin there, but my parents have passed on. What about you? Did you live in Richmond?”

  “A little town north of there.”

  “Your family still there?”

  “My family members have all passed away except for my younger brother, Trenton.”

  A frown marred his handsome face. “What happened?”

  How she hated talking about the tragedy she could never forget. “Trenton and I were staying with a friend of my grandmother’s, Mrs. Long. She was ill and needed help, but Granny wasn’t strong enough to nurse her friend. Trenton went with me to help with firewood and carry water and such.”

  “How young was he?”

  “Ten at the time. He was strong for his age and a lot of help plus his friend lived nearby. After three days, Mrs. Long was well enough to be left on her own. I promised to check on her everyday but Trenton and I went home.” Sorrow clogged her throat and she had to pause.

  He turned toward her on the seat, a worried frown on his brow. “Cassie, what’s wrong?”

  She stared at her hands. “When we reached our house, nothing but embers were left. Our grandparents, parents, brother and two sisters had perished in the fire.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Cassie sweetheart. What did you do?”

  She leaned against his chest. “We went back to Mrs. Long’s until we found a place to live. Distant relatives, the Heathington family, took us in. They have a daughter only a couple of years younger than me. Trenton is horse mad, and they let him help train the horses.”

  “Why did you decide to come out here?”

  She sat up, too aware of the comfort being in his arms had furnished. “Their daughter, Arabella, got married. I didn’t know any eligible men who interested me and was feeling adrift with her absence. Mrs. Long called my attention to Lydia’s ad in the newspaper and I answered on the spur of the moment.”

  He flicked the reins to set the horses moving again. “You’re gonna bring your brother here when you’re married, aren’t you?”

  His question touched her heart. “Whoever I marry will have to agree to have him live with us. He’s fifteen now and is a good lad and a hard worker. I-I’m afraid he won’t be content to remain with the Heathingtons for long.”

  “If he likes training horses, he could work with me. We have a large herd on the ranch.”

  Not sure she understood, she frowned at him. “I thought you worked with cows.”

  He chuckled. “Cattle, sweetheart, not cows. We do, but we ride horses. Also we round up wild mustangs, break them to saddle, and sell some of them. Mustangs are sturdy horses with endurance.” He pulled on the reins and set the break. “Here we are.”

  Talking about her family had caused so much distress she hadn’t noticed the cabin until now. Somewhat horrified, she asked, “I-Is this where you live?”

  If he noticed her disbelief, he gave no sign. “This is a line cabin where we hole up when we’re trapped out on the range overnight
in bad weather or working on this part of the ranch for several days in a row.”

  He helped her down and gazed into her eyes as she slid down his body. She thought he held her close longer than necessary, but being near him was too wonderful for her to complain. Even through their clothes, his warmth heated her. When he broke contact, she wanted to throw herself into his arms and hold on forever.

  No, no, no! What was she thinking?

  After gaining control of her emotions, she asked, “So no one actually lives here?”

  “The cowboys sleep in a bunkhouse at the ranch unless they’re married. I guess I could live here if I were married and wanted to. I’ll show you inside.” He led her to the small building with a half shed attached.

  Inside was dark until he opened the three windows’ shutters to admit light. A large stone fireplace took up most of one end with wood stacked neatly on the hearth. Nearby was a stove of sorts. Four chairs surrounded a small table on which a lantern stood. Thin ticking mattresses were rolled up on each of the four bunks.

  Not much space remained around the small room’s austere furnishings. The floor was stone. Shelves at one end held a few canned goods as well as metal dishes and cutlery. Two pots and a Dutch oven were on the stove. A tall bench held a dishpan, bar of soap, and an empty bucket. She’d seen no creek so there must be a well nearby.

  He laid a hand on a range. “We used to cook in the fireplace, but we found this old stove and brought it here. Cooler in summer.” He gestured around the room. “You can see we have everything we need.”

  Not to her way of thinking. “What about sheets and pillows and blankets?”

  He grinned at her. “We carry bedrolls behind our saddles. Cowboys don’t need sheets and pillows.”

  She was incredulous. “You’ve been living like this for eleven years?”

  He appeared not to notice her skepticism. “Except for a year. Met a gal in Fort Worth who thought she’d like to marry and we got hitched.”

  Her hand went to her throat. Lydia had said only suitable single men would be invited to the events. “You’re married?”