A Bride For Dalton Page 4

  She immediately regretted her question. “I apologize for prying.”

  “Don’t matter to me. Broke my hip when stacked logs broke loose and rolled into me. Dadburned thing didn’t heal right. Dalton’s parents kept me on anyway. They were sure good people and passed on that trait to Dalton.”

  By the time the men returned, a pork roast, potatoes, carrots, onions, gravy, and pickled beets would be ready to serve. In addition to the two new loaves of bread she’d baked that morning, she’d bake a large cobbler from dried apples.

  She recalled Bert’s comment about a bear. The thought of a bear coming up to the house made her wonder. They were running low on butter so she’d have to churn tomorrow. Rubbing the small of her back, she hoped she was tough enough for this life.

  ***

  Dalton had paired himself with Two Bits to keep the lazy man working. His constant complaining grated on Dalton’s nerves like a dull file on a rusty chain. In the little he’d revealed of his past, it was no surprise that Two Bits had no work ethic. But, why couldn’t he keep his griping to himself? Instead, the man never shut his mouth.

  Ignoring the obnoxious employee, Dalton had a hard time not smiling. He recalled Rebecca asking Two Bits if he’d like to offer the blessing this morning. Her blue eyes had sparkled with mischief.

  Biting the inside of his jaw had prevented a big grin but hurt like the devil. Then she confounded him by asking the man his real name. She turned a pest into a person.

  The first part of the night he’d slept like a stone. Toward morning, bad dreams had haunted him. Dread created pounding in his head that had woken him this morning. Rebecca added new complications to his already complex life.

  How was he going to protect her? All day Dalton mulled over his plans. Tonight he’d set them in motion.

  Two Bits caught his attention. “Sun’s going down so it’s time for us to ride in for supper. Sure hope that pretty lady cooked again.”

  They rode into the barn only a few minutes before Rob and George.

  George unsaddled his horse. “Told you Two Bits would already be here.”

  “Hey, you got no call to say that like you was criticizing me. We’re all here at the same time, ain’t we?”

  Dalton hurried through caring for his horse and gave the gelding a measure of oats. Leaving the other three to their bickering, he strode to the house. Once again, the aroma inside the house perked up his stomach.

  He stopped beside Rebecca. “Don’t act surprised when I announce we’re going to town tomorrow.”

  Her wide blue eyes held question. “Are we visiting the preacher or are you sending me away?”

  “Judge,” he whispered as the other three entered the kitchen.

  He heard the whoosh of her sigh as he took his seat at the table. “Sure smells good, Rebecca.”

  Two Bits jabbed Rob on the upper arm. “Told you I bet we’d have dessert again. Smells like apple tonight.”

  “You’re right, Clyde, apple it is.”

  Bert pointed to where a tea towel covered something. “And fresh baked bread. We’re eating like royalty.” He poured coffee into everyone’s mug.

  Dalton didn’t wait to be asked, he just offered a blessing. Rebecca smiled at him then served herself from the bowl he passed to her.

  When she rose to serve the cobbler, he announced, “Tomorrow, George and Rob, you two continue checking fence. Two Bits, you help Bert irrigate the garden and clean out the ditch to the cool room. We need all the produce we can grow and we can’t afford to let the trench to our cold spot fill in. Rebecca and I are going to town.”

  George shot him a scowl. “You never did say who she is.”

  Dalton stared at the man and feigned surprise. “Didn’t I? She’s my wife who’s been visiting my Uncle Fred.”

  Two Bits gaped. “You never mentioned you was married.”

  He pretended to think about the subject. “You know, I don’t recall any of us discussing marital status. That’s kind of personal and I didn’t want to pry.”

  Rob gestured with a slice of buttered bread. “I got a wife and a couple of little girls in Georgia. I send them money when I have it. Soon as we finish…” he looked around, “um, when we leave here, I’m going home.”

  George leaned back in his chair. “I was married but she left me and went back to her parents. Took the children with her. Don’t know if she got a divorce or not. Don’t matter ’cause I ain’t never marrying again.”

  Two Bits shook his head and sopped a bit of bread in gravy. “I ain’t never been hitched and don’t expect to be. Don’t figure a good woman would tolerate me. Wouldn’t wanta be wed to the other kind.”

  Rebecca smiled at him. “Clyde, my grandmother used to say ‘there’s a lid for every pot’. Perhaps you’ll find the woman for you some day.”

  After the three had gone to the bunkhouse and Dalton had locked and bolted the door, he returned to the kitchen and refilled his coffee mug.

  “We’ll go to the judge’s house first and get married. After that, we’ll stroll around town a bit and I’ll make sure everyone knows who you are before we come back here. We probably ought to send Uncle Fred a telegram and let him know you arrived all right.”

  “Thank you, Dalton. I appreciate you following through with the wedding. I promise I’ll be a good wife.”

  He toasted her with his mug. “I’m warning you, I view marriage as serious and forever.”

  Looking at Bert, he added, “Sorry you won’t be there, old friend. Can’t leave those three here without one of us watching the place.”

  Bert carried dishes to the sink. “Danged if that ain’t right. You can tell me about your trip tomorrow evening.”

  Chapter Five

  Rebecca was so relieved she slept sounder than she had in weeks. The aroma of coffee startled her awake. She hurried to dress and get to the kitchen. Bert had the coffee boiling and was pouring pancakes into two skillets when she got to the stove. He’d already amassed stacks of gently browned pancakes on a platter. A third skillet held sizzling sausage patties.

  She tied her apron over her best dress, a green taffeta with cream lace trim. “I’m so sorry for oversleeping. Thank you for getting things started.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t mind fixing pancakes if you’ll make your biscuits other times.” He flipped over the pancakes in each skillet.

  “Guess I’ll set out the plates and silver and get the syrup and butter on the table. I haven’t had pancakes in a long while.”

  Dalton came in and she poured him a mug of coffee. He mumbled and took the cup onto the porch. Buddy followed him.

  She leaned toward Bert. “Does he always drink his first cup out there?”

  “In good weather. Winter is too cold so then he stands at the parlor window. Reckon we’ll be shed of them other three by then.”

  She tamped down her curiosity and finished readying the table. Dalton and the three cowhands tromped inside followed by Buddy. She scooped up the sausages while Bert piled up the rest of the pancakes. Looking at the platter she wondered if five men could eat so many pancakes. Soon, she realized they could when Bert had to mix another bowl of batter and cook more.

  After breakfast, Dalton stood. “I’ll go hitch the wagon. You’ll need a bonnet and a jacket. Wind still carries a chill in the open.”

  Bert shooed her. “I’ll take care of cleaning up. I’m not eager to work alongside that lazy Two Bits and listen to his bellyaching.”

  “Thank you for being so considerate. Is there something you’d like from town?”

  He looked like a schoolboy confessing to mischief. “Wouldn’t turn down a peppermint stick or two.”

  On the way, Dalton pointed to a pile of stones. “This cairn marks the edge of the ranch. Pay attention to the landmarks in case you need to come on your own. Can you drive a buggy?”

  “Yes, but I can’t hitch one. I’m willing to learn.”

  He glanced at her. “What about ride a horse?”


  “Never have but—”

  “But you’re willing to learn.” He nodded to her with a glance she couldn’t interpret. Did he think she was useless or stupid? She’d prove she was neither.

  He appeared to concentrate on the drive. “We’ll have horseback lessons another day. Look at this turn coming up there. What landmark do you see?”

  “That tree with the gnarled trunk and the branch that grows low to the ground.”

  Every few minutes he had her describe the landmarks even when there was nothing remarkable.

  “Couldn’t I just follow this road to town?”

  He raised his eyebrows, but a hint of amusement glistened in his blue eyes. “Don’t know, could you?”

  She tilted her head and looked at him from under her lashes. “Will I need to?”

  “Probably. You don’t want to be stuck on the ranch unless Bert or I can drive you to town, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t mind. At least… I don’t think I would. I guess if there’re some ladies’ activities at the church or a tea or such, I might want to attend. You or Bert wouldn’t want to be tied up in town while I socialized with other women.”

  After a few minutes, she turned on the seat. “I need to tell you something. When we have a valid marriage certificate, we can take it to the bank and show it and a copy of my mother’s will to the banker. He’ll send to St. Louis for my money that’s in trust. Then you’ll have money to make whatever repairs you want to the ranch.”

  He stared at her, a frown marring his handsome brow. “I don’t need money from a wife. The ranch makes enough.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that Bert said the other three men wouldn’t be around much longer and I thought that meant you couldn’t afford to hire them all year.”

  He looked ahead and clicked the reins. “Naw, they’re just part-timers. They work a while and then move on. No telling where they’ll go next.”

  “Rob said he’s going home to his wife and children.”

  “Maybe… unless the mood strikes him to chase off somewhere else. You can’t tell with those three. There are countless cowhands just like them.”

  “Oh, well, the money is mine as soon as I marry and I intend to have it. My parents weren’t wealthy, but the money was left to me by the grandmother for whom I was named. If I don’t claim it, I’m certain my stepbrother will try to break the trust and keep it for himself. He’s probably plenty mad at me for leaving.”

  “You don’t think he’ll come after you, do you?”

  She had considered the possibility and dismissed it. “Pffft, that would take too much energy. Besides, operating his saloon keeps him busy. He has gambling tables there and loose women working for him. It’s not a pleasant place.”

  “He doesn’t sound like a very nice person. Was his father like him?”

  She tilted her head and considered his question. “My stepfather was all right I suppose. At least, he was good to my mother and me. When he owned the saloon it was a decent place where people—even families—went to eat or have a drink.”

  “Did his place include gambling?”

  “There was some gambling in a back room but it was by individuals and not provided by my stepfather. He made certain there was no cheating. When my stepfather died two years ago, Bradley changed the place to be what he thought was more profitable. I’m not sure it is because now only a sordid crowd goes there.”

  “You may know my folks died several years ago in a train crash on the way home from visiting Uncle Fred. How long have yours been gone?”

  “Papa died when I was ten and I’m twenty-one now. Mama died in January after being sick for several years with consumption. I don’t believe she ever got over losing Papa even though she was fond of my stepfather.”

  “Reckon it’s good my folks went together. Either would have been lost without the other.”

  “Remember I mentioned I met your folks when they were visiting. Uncle Fred was sure cut up because he couldn’t come to your parents’ funeral. He thinks an awful lot of you.”

  “I’m real fond of him and have tried to get him to move here. We have a church in town but no minister. That’s why we’re going to see the judge instead of a preacher. A couple of the men take turns leading the Sunday church services.”

  “Oh, I hope Uncle Fred will come. He’s been so good to my family and especially to me. I feel as if he really is family.”

  She clasped her hand to her throat. “Oh, I see the town. What a pretty view from here, so much nicer than from the stagecoach.”

  They had crested a rise and a lovely valley lay below. She spotted neatly squared-off streets and the church’s white spire. As they drew nearer, a hodgepodge of buildings formed downtown as she remembered.

  Today when fatigue didn’t weigh her down, she was able to appreciate the stores. She noted a millinery shop, dressmaker, bank, and café before Dalton turned off the main street.

  He stopped in front of a home with a decorative wrought iron fence around the property. He helped her down and they walked to the front door.

  When he rang the bell, a woman with neat gray hair answered. She wore a pink dress with a white lace collar. Her smile set her blue eyes sparkling.

  “Hello, Mr. Sterling. Please come in. I guess you’ve come to see my husband. He’s in his office talking to Sheriff Scott. I’ll tell them you’re here.”

  Both men came into the parlor and exchanged greetings. The judge was a portly man with gray hair and jowls.

  The sheriff held his hat in his hands. “I’ll run along and let you get on with your business.”

  Dalton put his hand on the back of Rebecca’s waist. “I’d be pleased it you can stay, Sheriff. Judge Everett, Rebecca and I would very much like for you to perform our marriage today. Rebecca is in a precarious situation you can remedy. She married me by proxy in St. Louis at which my uncle officiated. I didn’t get his wire in time to do my part here.”

  A wide smile split the judge’s face. “A wedding, one of my most pleasant duties. You two stand over here by the fireplace. Molly we’ll need you to be a witness. You, too, Kevin.”

  Mrs. Everett smoothed a hand over her hair. The sheriff laid his hat on a table.

  In only a few minutes she and Dalton were wed and signing the license. After the two witnesses had signed, the judge did so with a flourish then blotted the ink. Dalton tried to pay the judge.

  His effort was waved aside. “My pleasure. Always happy to perform a wedding. I offer you both my wishes for a long and as happy a marriage as I’ve enjoyed with my Molly.” He placed his arm around his wife.

  Mrs. Everett sent her husband a loving smile. “I’m a very lucky woman. I hope you two will have happiness to match mine.”

  Sheriff Scott clamped his hat on his head. “Welcome, Mrs. Sterling. Looks as if I’m odd man out here. I’ll see you folks another time.”

  Dalton shook the judge’s hand. “Thank you again. You, too, Mrs. Everett. We have quite a few errands so we won’t take up any more of your time.”

  Back on the wagon, he took her left hand in his. “This ring looks familiar.”

  “It was your grandmother’s and then your aunt’s. Uncle Fred insisted I have it since he has no children and thinks of you as his heir.”

  “I’m sure happy he kept it. I’d wondered if Aunt Mary was buried wearing it but didn’t think it was decent to ask. Okay, let’s go to the bank first and then the shops.”

  When they reached the bank shyness struck Rebecca. “Can we talk quietly to the man in charge?”

  He guided her toward an office at the back. “This part is all your show, Rebecca. I can wait out here.”

  She grabbed his wrist. “No, you can’t. I need your support. Also, you’ll have to sign a paper since if I die you’d inherit rights to the money.”

  He huffed his disapproval. “My job is to see nothing happens to you. I get your point, though.”

  At the counter, Dalton spoke to the head teller. “
Vance, we’d like to see Mr. Applebee.”

  Eyes brimming with curiosity, the man knocked before he opened a door with gold lettering that read Orville Applebee, President. “Sir, Dalton Sterling and a lady want to talk to you. Shall I send them in?”

  Mr. Applebee stood when she and Dalton entered the small office. “Well, Sterling, who have you with you? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting her.”

  Dalton kept his hand at her waist. “Rebecca Sterling, this is Orville Applebee, bank owner and president.”

  Mr. Applebee beamed at them. “Have a seat. Happy to meet you, Mrs. Sterling. I sure didn’t know your husband had married.”

  Dalton kept her beside him until she was seated facing the banker’s desk. “My wife has business to conduct with you. I’ll just sit here while she explains.”

  Rebecca pulled paperwork from her purse and passed it and the marriage certificate to the banker. “When you read the terms of my mother’s will, you’ll see why I’ve included our wedding certificate.”

  Mr. Applebee adjusted his glasses and read the will. He appeared to read over one portion a second time before he picked up the proof of marriage. “I see, and you want to collect your inheritance, is that correct?”

  “I do. I wish to use it to open an account here. My husband and I will each have access to the funds, of course.”

  The banker leaned forward and tapped a finger on the will. “Do you realize that if you set this up as you suggested your husband could withdraw all of this and you’d have no recourse?”

  She glanced at Dalton. “I do, but he would never do that. Surely you know he’s an honest man.”

  “Of course, but I’m obligated to make you aware of your legal limits. Well, if this is what you want, I’ll need you to sign some papers so I can send for your funds.” He opened a file, retrieved a folder, and extracted several sheets of paper.

  After dipping a pen in ink, he filled in portions before turning the sheet so she could read what he’d written. He tapped a place near the bottom. “You sign and date here after you’ve read this. Take your time, Mrs. Sterling.”

  Rebecca read carefully. When she’d finished, she signed and then showed the paper to Dalton.