A Ranch To Call Home. Carol Arens
About the Publisher
September 1883, Forget-Me-Not, Texas
A frizzle of unease teased Laura Lee’s stomach. She rolled up the newest edition of the Ladies’ Home Journal and Practical Housekeeper tight in her fist.
The elegant wedding gown that she had stitched with her own blistered fingers fell in lacy waves to the boardwalk, where she stood in front of Auntie June’s boardinghouse waiting for her very own prince to arrive and carry her off to the preacher.
The pocket watch tucked within the secret pouch stitched into her petticoat marked time against her hip.
Tick, tock, tick... Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes crept up on half an hour.
As a distraction, she watched the breeze pluck golden leaves from the trees and blow them over the rooftops of the main street of Forget-Me-Not. One leaf fell on the brim of a man’s Stetson. He brushed it off, then went inside the bank.
At forty-five minutes, with Johnny nowhere in sight, she reminded herself she had nothing to fear. Her groom had no doubt been delayed by something that was far beyond his control.
Any moment now, dust would stir at the end of the street... Johnny urging his horse to a gallop through a veil of falling leaves. He would be wearing an expression of apology on his dashingly handsome face.
And truth be told, it wasn’t uncommon for Johnny to be late. Once they were married, she would be able to help cure him of that habit.
Tick, tock, tick. Ten more minutes slid past. She gripped the Ladies’ Home Journal and Practical Housekeeper tighter.
“Curse it! Where are you, Johnny Ruiz?” She loosened her hold on the precious magazine—her guide to all things domestic and wonderful.
As soon as the impatient words left her mouth, she regretted them. Ordinarily she was sweet tempered, the very soul of composure.
“Howdy, miss,” came a deep male voice. Boot steps thumped on the boardwalk, bringing the speaker within feet of her. “May I be of assistance?”
She spun toward him and looked up...and up at a tall man wearing a black duster, a Stetson dipped over his brow. It was the man who had flicked the leaf from his hat and gone into the bank.
“Why, no.” She had thought Johnny to be handsome but this man... Well, my word. It took all of a second to feel ashamed of the thought. Johnny was her true love and would forever be the most handsome man in her heart. “Thank you, but I’m fine as can be.”
“Name’s Jesse Creed, ma’am,” he said, dipping his dark hat in greeting. “Couldn’t help but notice you’ve been standing in this spot for a good long time now. I reckon that fellow you just mentioned might not show up.”
He might assume so since she had blurted it out. Which did not mean it was any concern of his.
“Perhaps I simply enjoy taking in the morning sunshine.” In a wedding gown.
It cut her heart that this stranger thought her to be abandoned, given that was the very fear that had plagued her for the past ten minutes...as ridiculous a fear as it was.
Johnny loved her. Nothing could keep him from being here unless something horrible had happened. What if he’d been injured...or worse?
“It’s not my business but—”
“Just so. It is not.” She unrolled the magazine and pressed it flat to her chest. “And just how do you know how long I’ve been standing here, sir?”
“I’ve been to the bank, the livery and the blacksmith. Passed in front of you three times.”
She’d been so intent on watching for Johnny that she had only noticed him once.
“Well, you may go along your way knowing that I am perfectly fine.”
“Good day, then.” He tipped his hat and continued down the boardwalk.
One shop down, Jesse Creed stopped, turned. His olive green gaze settling upon her was more than a bit distracting...the sound of his voice far too appealing. In fact, it stirred her in a way she didn’t understand. “If you find you do need something, Auntie June is the one to ask for help. Here in town she’s everyone’s honorary aunt.”
Was that handsome fellow a married man? she wondered before she could stop. She chastised herself for wondering, given that she was an engaged woman.
A very lucky engaged woman. Johnny was dark-eyed and dashing...fun loving...passionate.
And striding out of the front door of the hotel across the street.
* * *
Jesse Creed would have laid a wager that the pretty woman’s “Johnny” was not going to show up. That she was as abandoned as her expression said she was.
Looks like he’d have lost that money. Just as he mounted the steps to the general store, a cowpoke, spiffed up and looking swank, sauntered out of the hotel. The lady rushed across the street and into his arms.
What she did not seem to notice was that another woman drew aside the curtain of a second-story window. She peered down at the couple with resentment contorting her mouth, narrowing her eyes. A red robe drooped off her bare shoulders.
The bride-to-be, and clearly she was that, was not going to find life an easy path with that faithless fellow as her husband.
Sometimes Jesse wished that he didn’t notice so much, but his former career as a bounty hunter made him take note of details that many folks would not.
Hell, the woman’s future was none of his business. He didn’t even know her. Still, he’d go on his way easier if he didn’t guess what her future held in store.
In the end, he knew she would not welcome his observation if he told her. She probably wouldn’t believe him. There was nothing to do but continue on his way to the general store. It was a shame, though, a pretty thing like her headed for such trouble.
Coming up the steps of the store, he nearly smacked into Auntie June on her way out. Carrying a sack of what he guessed to be sugar, she wasn’t looking where she was going, but up the street instead.
Her short, pillow-like body listed left, but he caught her by the forearms and righted her.
“Jesse Creed! I do declare I ought to watch out where I’m going. But I can’t rightly say I mind being rescued by such a dashing fellow.”
“Always a pleasure, Auntie June.” And it was. The woman was one of the kindest souls he had ever met. It had been Auntie June who had convinced Corum Peterson to sell his ranch to Jesse, when he had been a stranger in Forget-Me-Not.
“I’m just relieved to see that her young man showed up.” She turned her attention again to the couple kissing in the middle of the street. “She sewed all night long on that wedding gown.”
“Looks like it was worth the effort,” he answered, meaning that she looked fetching in it, not that he thought the man deserved the trouble she had gone to.
“I hope so.” She glanced back at him, brows arched over honey-brown eyes. “I’m not convinced.”
“Seems like she is, though.”
“Yes...and I do remember what it’s like to be blinded by love.” She stroked the bag of sugar with one finger, shaking her head. “The light of day was a harsh thing to face, I can tell you.”
“Whoever the fellow was who broke your heart, he was a fool.”
“What a pity you weren’t born forty years sooner. I turned many a head back then.” Reaching up, she patted his cheek.