“Can I feed Emily? Jake milked that momma sheep and Emily likes it. Can I feed her, please?”

  Mitch hadn’t wanted to leave the baby in Mary’s youthful care, but he didn’t want Mary working around the stove ladling hot broth, either. He would just have to keep an eye on her as he made the meal. Decision made, he nodded.

  He’d no sooner found the milk Jake had set in the well when pounding hooves drew his attention away. Victoria? His disloyal heart leaped, but he crushed the expectation and looked up.

  Jake rode straight into the barn. Across his lap lay Growler, the dog limp and bouncing with the horse’s gait. Mitch rushed over. “What’s wrong?”

  “Trouble.” Jake dismounted quickly and laid the dog on the nearby hay. “Those half-breed mongrels of Donner’s got into the north pasture. Five of them took down the donkey before Growler got at ’em.”

  Mitch bent down. Growler lifted his head and licked his hand. Blood matted his fur in several spots that were obvious puncture wounds.

  Jake busied himself with his horse, calming the animal who was clearly spooked. “Growler will be fine. I’ll clean his wounds in a minute. But the herd isn’t so good. They stampeded out to the west into that pasture that leads to Blue Gulch. That’s all I can say right now. But I got the fencing pulled closed, so they can’t move.” He looked over his shoulder with a grim expression. “We’ve lost a few of the heifers you sold. They fell into the gulch. I hadn’t even delivered ’em, yet. Those men are gonna want their money back, Mitch.” He sighed. “You aren’t going to make that bank payment.”

  Mitch’s gut twisted. Jake had been fixing the fence with the barbed wire Mitch had ordered in from out east. He was thankful Jake wasn’t hurt in the stampede, and that he’d had the presence of mind to close up the pasture. Noting Jake’s shredded shirt, he knew his ranch hand had torn strips off his clothing to tie onto the wire to warn the cattle away.

  Mitch had only just started to fence in his herd. Most ranchers allowed their cattle to wander the foothills and the fields around their ranches, only corralling and sorting the herds in the fall. Mitch owned his land and wanted his herd to stay put. The grass was plentiful, the water source fresh, and he could keep an eye on them that way. Donner, his neighbor, never liked that. But to punish Mitch by allowing his dogs to harass Mitch’s herd and therefore ruin his ability to meet his mortgage payment? Could Donner do that? Mitch didn’t want to speculate.

  “At first light, we’ll have to move the rest of them out of there. I used the fencing that was supposed to go along the side that touches Donner’s land.” Jake peered at Mitch. “You need to get over to Donner and tell him to tie up those mutts. This isn’t the first time they’ve roamed in a pack and killed. I heard they ran up to the Westwind Ranch this spring and took down some calves.”

  Mitch had heard that the Westwind Ranch had financial hardships. The deaths of their calves had no doubt added to those hardships. They were still operating, but how, Mitch didn’t know.

  He would confront Edgar Donner, all right, but it wasn’t a task he relished. Donner was well-known to be one of Walter Smith’s cronies. He was argumentative and cared little for his herd. Mitch had secretly wondered where the man got all his money. He never sold any of his stock but rather allowed them to wander the various upper pastures, expecting the other ranchers to deliver them at the end of the summer.

  Jake’s question intruded on his thoughts. “I saw someone galloping down the lane as I was coming in. Looked like a woman, what with the long skirt.”

  “It was Victoria.”

  “Why was she here?”

  Mitch tightened his jaw. “She came to apologize.”

  Finished with the quick grooming of his horse, Jake led the animal into its stall. “For what?”

  “Never mind,” Mitch growled. “She’s gone. And for good.”

  “Too bad she didn’t offer to help around here. We both should get up to the pasture in the morning.”

  “She did offer. I sent her packing.”

  Jake snapped his head around. “She offered to help and you refused her? What’s wrong with you?”

  Mitch didn’t want to hear he’d made a mistake, especially from his ranch hand. “Don’t you start. It would never have worked out.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know, all right? Now, give it a rest.”

  With a shake of his head, Jake went to tend to the dog.

  “Is Growler going to be all right, Papa?”

  Mitch jerked around. Mary stood there, holding a whining Emily in her arms.

  His foolish pride had sent Victoria packing.

  When pride cometh, then cometh shame.

  His pastor’s words echoing in his head, Mitch strode over and scooped up both Mary and the baby. There was nothing he could do until he hired a decent housekeeper. The day after tomorrow was Sunday and by then, the children should be healthy enough to attend church. He’d ask his pastor again. It would all work out, he told himself fiercely. He’d done the right thing, sending Victoria away.

  So why did it not feel that way?

  * * *

  Victoria rapped lightly on Rachel’s door. It was still early, not yet suppertime, so she might be able to catch her cousin before the woman left for the evening. Victoria refused to ponder where the woman went. Her activities, however disconcerting they were, were none of her business.

  Allowing her hand to drop, Victoria cringed. She’d ridden home at a brisk pace. Her riding outfit and corset were both rigid, forcing her to lean back uncomfortably. Her legs ached, too, for she hadn’t ridden in such a long time.

  Mitchell had been correct when he said it turned cool at night. She managed to reach the stables just as the sun dipped down behind the mountains. By then her feet had been frozen, and even now, standing before Rachel’s door, she found herself still shivering.

  She’d shed more than a few tears, too. Mitchell would sooner let his family suffer than take her help, but now, in retrospect, she understood. She would have only made things worse. He’d been right and it hurt so much, she’d cried most of the way home.

  But it was Mitchell’s soft plea for her to leave that had really flustered her. It was as though a part of him wanted her to stay. Did he not trust himself? Her heart hitched. Had he really wanted to kiss her?

  How did she feel about it? A few weeks ago, she’d never have entertained the thought that a rancher, a man who worked with his hands, would try to woo her. Nor had any man ever stated so bluntly that he wanted to kiss her.

  It was a dangerous desire.

  She fought back the heat that flooded into her face just as the door opened. Rachel stood there, her outfit simple and modest, but warm. A lovely, fashionable hat perched on her head and Victoria’s trained eye spied a discreet pearl pin holding it secure. Obviously, Rachel was preparing to leave.

  “I know you plan to go out, and I won’t take a moment, but I need to ask a favor.”

  “Come in,” Rachel said briskly as she backed away from the door.

  Once inside with the door closed firmly behind them, Victoria began. “I need your help, but I’m not sure you can even help me. I don’t want to ask Aunt Louise or Uncle Walter. They may not approve.”

  Brows raised, Rachel walked over to her dressing table and began to put small notebooks into her purse. “I’m intrigued. But saying my parents may not approve doesn’t mean much. Father misbehaves more than anyone I know. I can’t imagine what he wouldn’t approve of.”

  Victoria blushed. Rachel was nothing if she wasn’t candid. And what were those small sheets of paper she was tucking away? They looked like tiny newspapers. Or Bible tracts.

  “So,” Rachel said as she pulled on the drawstrings of her purse. “What is it?”

  “I want to learn how to run a household. More specifically, how to run an ordinary household.”

  “Mother could teach you that.”

  “I’m not sure. Can Aunt Louise build a fire and make porridge and do laundry?”

  Rachel laughed. “That kind of household! I can see why you are reluctant to ask her. I don’t think she’s ever done laundry in her life. And since Father wants to marry you off to Clyde, I would say he wouldn’t approve of your request, either. By the way, I should warn you. Today is Friday and Friday evenings are when Clyde makes his appearances. And why I choose to avoid supper and leave early.”

  Victoria swallowed. She didn’t have the luxury of being born the daughter in this household. Or have the boldness that Rachel wore with the ease of last season’s fashions. Could Victoria merely refuse to see Clyde? She’d met him at the train station and that had been enough for her. Even now, the memory of his assessing look made her shiver.

  But if she stood up to Uncle Walter, what would happen to her? Would she be tossed out onto the street?

  Before dealing with Clyde Abernathy, she had another problem to address.

  “Rachel, I don’t have any idea how to do even the simplest household tasks. My mother was adamant that we maintain the appearance of wealth, but you and I both know what happened to my money. That’s why I’m here.”

  “And my mother was probably quick to remind you of that?”

  “Not really.” Victoria didn’t want to add that she thought her aunt was a gossip.

  “How odd. Mother married Father for his money, and he married her for the prestige of a good Boston family. It was an arrangement that suited both parties. Did you know the real money is here out West? Father promised her the lifestyle she was used to, but don’t be fooled by her decorum. Father isn’t maintaining the high standards Mother was born into, so she prefers to walk around with blinders on. In other words, Mother believes that if she can’t see Father’s less than stellar behavior, it therefore doesn’t exist.”

  What a scathing assessment of her parents, Victoria thought. And while Victoria hadn’t sensed that behavior in her aunt, it did give her pause. Had her own perception of her life in Boston been like her aunt’s here? Had she been deluding herself into thinking she had been living in an idyllic world?

  “So,” Rachel said, changing the subject. “Do you want to live on your own?”

  Victoria blinked. “Yes, but it’s not quite that simple. Should I find employment, I could board at a nice establishment, perhaps a widow’s home. If that happens—”

  “You’d have the luxury of being treated like a daughter without the familial obligations. Not to mention avoiding everything here. Interesting hope, although you may not find it quite that way in Proud Bend.” Rachel studied Victoria carefully. “Do you really want to learn the basics of running a home just in case you can find a job or a widow who needs company?”

  Victoria paused, just long enough for Rachel to smile. But it bore a gentle, but fatalistic edge. “Times are changing, Victoria, and you, being completely penniless, need to change, too. There is a middle class emerging, and these people will want the finery you and I have grown up with.” Rachel lifted her brows. “Or is there another reason?”

  Victoria thought of Mitchell. Was that what he’d planned for his family? To have the good things in life?

  Then, after studying her a moment, Rachel set down her purse, and rang her bell for the maid.

  Victoria was not sure what her cousin planned. She had come looking only for advice, but now felt as though she was being swept out to sea on the riptide that was her cousin’s no-nonsense attitude.

  Well, whatever was happening, she could do it. Mitchell had intimated that she was someone who would find menial work distasteful. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

  “This will take a while,” Rachel was saying, tugging off her gloves. “You will be at it for most of the evening, not to mention all day tomorrow. These things take time to learn. I shall convey to Father that you’re not feeling well. It will keep both Father and Clyde out of the upstairs.”

  “But I feel fine.”

  Rachel peered hard at her. “Where have you been? I mean, you’re still in your riding outfit and you were shivering up until a moment ago.”

  “I went to Mitchell’s ranch. His children are sick.”

  Rachel’s brows shot up. “All the more reason you should not be around too many people. Who knows what you could spread?”

  It was a logical decision, but Victoria still didn’t feel right about it. “What are you planning? Am I taking you from your night’s activities?”

  “No. I’ll still go, but later. You have to understand, Victoria, that my evening’s activities are very important to me. I consider them more important than anything that can happen in this household.” She patted her cousin’s hand. “I know it sounds awful, and makes me look terrible, but just trust me on this. I don’t mean any of this to be offensive.”

  Victoria was about to say she wasn’t offended at all, but Rachel’s tone turned fierce with commitment. “Nor can I elaborate right now. Just suffice it to say that nothing, absolutely nothing, in this household could drag me from going out each evening. I may be a bit late tonight, but I will send the errand boy to warn of my tardiness.”

  Victoria flushed. Did Rachel have a paramour? Should she tell her older cousin just how awful her lifestyle appeared?

  No. Suddenly, something didn’t feel right about her assessment. She held her tongue.

  The maid arrived, and Rachel ordered wood, laundry soap and a bowl of hot water, after instructing the girl to tell her father that Victoria believed she may be coming down with an illness and would not be present at suppertime. Sandra nodded, confusion in her eyes as she curtsied to her mistress.

  “I also need to know how to make oatmeal,” Victoria added.

  “One thing at a time. Tonight, we learn how to start a fire, and scrub laundry. This way, you’ll be out of the way. If you pick it up quickly, we’ll go downstairs tomorrow and make a loaf of bread and fry meat and onions. Oh, and we’ll teach you how to make a decent cup of coffee and a pot of oatmeal porridge.” Rachel shook her finger at her cousin. “You’d better take notes, Victoria. You’ll need to refer to them later.”

  Victoria gaped at her. “I was just expecting you to speak discreetly with the housekeeper to allow the cook to show me what to do. I didn’t expect you to have to learn it at the same time.”

  With a laugh, Rachel brushed off Victoria’s words. “I learned these skills ten years ago, when I decided that God wanted me out there helping those women who need a bit of compassion, not judgment.”

  Victoria bit her lip. What women? “I don’t understand.”

  “Never mind. Go find a small selection of clothes that need to be washed. We have a decent wringer downstairs, but this will do as a start.” A bold smile grew on her face. “You’ll be able to work in any household by the time I’m done with you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Victoria squirmed like a small child in her pew the following Sunday. She ached all over, even where she didn’t think she had muscles. All day yesterday, Saturday, Rachel had kept her busy. They had slipped down the servant stairs, with Rachel somehow managing to convince the staff to keep their presence below a secret. And from there, Victoria had crammed a lifetime of rudimentary tasks into eight grueling hours.

  The cook, a robust woman with a booming voice, showed Victoria everything. Armed with a pen and notebook, and wrapped in a coarse, cotton apron, Victoria carefully followed all the directions fired her way by the cook.

  She cringed and gingerly rolled her shoulders, but she now knew how to do everything from wash laundry to pluck a chicken. Victoria shuddered at the memory of that task. She was sure she would never eat fowl again.

  “Stop moving or mother will demand you remove yourself,” Rachel whispered from beside her on the pew.

  “I don’t understand. Didn’t you tell her I was sick?” Victoria hissed back. She still hated that they’d stretched the truth about Friday evening.

  “No. When Mother came to my room asking about you, I told her the truth.”

  Victoria shut her eyes. Would her aunt tell her uncle? “Why did you say that?”

  “That way, you could come to church today.” She glanced over her shoulder and turned smug. “Good thing. Here comes Mitch.”

  Immediately, Victoria spun in the hard, wooden seat. The Smiths always sat up front, she’d been told and she now realized in horror that she faced the entire congregation. Aunt Louise clicked her tongue at her, and Victoria turned back around. Without seeing Mitchell.

  Wait, how did Rachel know?

  Rachel chuckled, giving away her ruse. Blushing madly, Victoria sat rigidly beside her older cousin, all the while willing her face to return to a normal color.

  Behind her she heard someone slide into the pew. Victoria noticed Rachel toss another fast look over her shoulder, then snap it back a moment later, almost in horror.

  Mitchell? Victoria jerked around.

  No. There sat a broad-shouldered man in a plain black suit with a lawman’s badge. Victoria’s gaze dropped to his waist, but thankfully the man didn’t appear to be armed.

  But he was staring a hole in the back of Rachel’s head. And her cousin was refusing to do anything but stare up at the altar. What was that all about?

  “Sheriff, how are you this morning?” Aunt Louise asked coolly.

  “I’m quite well, Mrs. Smith,” the sheriff answered. “And where is Mr. Smith this morning?”

  The congeniality on Aunt Louise’s face slid away. “Alas, Mr. Smith doesn’t share my devotion. Rather, he was up and gone very early this morning.”

 

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