Married to Claim the Rancher's Heir Read online

  She’d been young and vibrant, but it hadn’t been until she’d said that she was on her way to Denver to start a new life that he’d become more interested. She’d claimed she’d always wanted to go west, to see the frontier that everyone held in such high regard. When he’d told her about the ranch, her eyes had twinkled with excitement and she’d begged for him to tell her more. He had, and he’d also started to wonder if she just might be the one woman who could make getting married worth the troubles and headaches of having a wife.

  When the train had stopped in Hays, she’d sent a wire to Denver, stating her arrival would be delayed. Bringing her back to the ranch had shocked some people, just as he’d known it would.

  A sickening bolt stabbed him dead center, and, needing to rid himself of thoughts that could haunt him if he’d let them, Gabe took off toward the barn. There was plenty of work to be done. Always was. Work that made him forget. Just as it had for the past five years.

  He’d been at the house when Janette and Ruby had arrived because he’d been responding to correspondence concerning the purchase of cattle from a buyer in Denver. The letter was now written, ready to be delivered to the next westbound train, and that meant he needed to cull the cattle that would be driven to the train station next week.

  Work, what needed to be done, is what he focused on every day. Today was no different. Once he had a horse saddled, he rode north, to where half a dozen hands were already separating the young stock.

  * * *

  After Janette had scrubbed herself with the strong-smelling soap, Rosalie had entered the room and dumped water over her head until the tub was about to overflow. Then the woman covered Janette’s neck in baking soda and made her sit in the cooling water for a full five minutes. That part wasn’t so bad. It was what came next that had almost made her jump out of the tub. The vinegar Rosalie used to rinse away the baking soda had smarted so badly tears had formed in Janette’s eyes.

  However, by the time all the snarls had been brushed out of her hair, the initial stinging had eased, and her neck felt near normal. It didn’t look normal, still covered in a blotchy red rash, but the swelling in her lips and earlobes had gone down considerably.

  Thank heavens. The rash was enough to contend with.

  Not knowing if any stray strands of hay might have entered her traveling bag, Rosalie insisted Janette put on a borrowed dress. The older woman was about the same height, but much rounder and bustier. Janette couldn’t remember wearing something so ill fitting. Probably because she never had. She’d inherited her seamstress abilities from her mother, who had always made sure both of her daughters were well dressed. Luckily, Rosalie had a sewing kit, so with little more than a few stitches, Janette had the dress looking much more presentable, not to mention wearable.

  Rosalie also insisted that Janette not touch Ruby, stating some of the oils from the poison ivy could be on Ruby’s clothes. Janette made herself useful by hauling buckets of water into the washroom from the cistern pump in the kitchen and from the four kettles on the stove. While Rosalie scrubbed Ruby, Janette cut apart a cotton gown Rosalie had given her in order to stitch it into a simple dress for Ruby to wear while their clothes were washed and dried.

  “Thank you for being so accommodating,” Janette said while sitting in the chair by the washroom door. “Both Ruby and I appreciate it.”

  “A little bit of excitement is just what is needed around here.” Rosalie grimaced slightly as she squeezed the water out of the ends of Ruby’s hair with both hands. “Not that I’d wish poison ivy on anyone.”

  “I wouldn’t either,” Janette answered, telling herself her neck was not starting to itch again. Was not. There was no way she’d tolerate another vinegar dousing.

  “No one’s had poison ivy around here since Max left,” Rosalie said.

  “Max. My dada, Max,” Ruby said, her blue eyes as bright as her freshly scrubbed face.

  “Yes, your daddy was Max,” Rosalie said, patting Ruby’s cheeks.

  “Mama, Dada went to heaven,” Ruby said.

  Janette had to close her eyes at the ache that entered her heart. Mrs. Potter had explained Max’s and Anna’s deaths to Ruby before Janette had arrived in Texas, and Ruby could make it sound like they’d be coming back any day now. Withholding the desire to cross the room and hug the child, Janette opened her eyes in time to meet Rosalie’s gaze, which said the older woman had the same desire.

  “Is this heaven?” Ruby said.

  Janette held her breath, wondering how to answer.

  Rosalie chuckled. “Some claim it is. Especially your uncle Gabe. I remember when your daddy was your size.” While laying a towel on the floor, she continued, “And I gave him and your uncle Gabe baths, just like I am you. Now, come here, you little pumpkin, you’re as clean as a boiled egg.”

  As Ruby giggled, Rosalie lifted her out of the tub, bundled her up in a towel and then carried her across the room and set her on a small bench.

  “I’ll brush your hair while your auntie finishes stitching up a dress for you to wear,” Rosalie said. “Is that all right?”

  Ruby nodded as she answered, “Yes.”

  “I used to brush your daddy’s hair,” Rosalie said. “When he’d let me. I sure have missed him.”

  Janette tried to focus on her stitches, but the sadness in Rosalie’s voice made it difficult. The way Anna and Max had run away wasn’t her fault, yet Janette wanted to apologize for it.

  As if she knew that, Rosalie shook her head. “Do you like apple dumplings?” she asked Ruby.

  Frowning, Ruby cast a look her way, one Janette had learned to read over the past couple of weeks.

  “I don’t think she knows what apple dumplings are,” Janette said. “But I bet she would like them.”

  “Then we will make some, as soon as we get all of your clothes washed,” Rosalie said.

  “I can wash the clothes,” Janette said. “I’m sure the water—”

  “No,” Rosalie interrupted. “If you’re as finicky about those weeds as Max was, you don’t want to come in contact with anything that was even close to poison ivy.”

  Janette bit the thread in two and then flipped the gown around to hem it. “I thought you said it’s not contagious.”

  “It’s not contagious from person to person,” Rosalie explained. “But once a person breaks out from it, they are more susceptible to it happening again.” After a final smoothing stroke on Ruby’s hair, she set the brush aside. “I’ll wash the clothes and then make apple dumplings. They’re your uncle Gabe’s favorite.”

  The gurgle in Janette’s stomach said the apple dumplings didn’t sound nearly as good as they once had. “How long does the rash last?” Janette asked, still refusing to give in to the itching that was starting up again.

  “Oh, three to five days,” Rosalie said. “If you keep putting vinegar on it. Vinegar dries it up. Otherwise it could linger for weeks.”

  “I’ll put some more on shortly,” Janette said. The sting from the vinegar didn’t seem that bad in comparison with dealing with a rash for weeks.

  Rosalie grinned as she walked over to the tub and pulled the cork out of the bottom. She then started putting the room back in order.

  “I didn’t expect such modern conveniences,” Janette said. Anna had mentioned the Triple C, but not in detail. So had Max. Then again, when they had mentioned the ranch, it was in connection to Gabe, who they both swore was on the ornery side. Janette hadn’t believed them, not completely.

  Then, that is.

  “Every time Gabe travels to a city, he comes back with some newfangled idea or another,” Rosalie said. “I’m glad he does. The water is piped out from beneath the washroom and runs all the way to the garden. Same with the tub in the kitchen. It sure has saved me from carrying a lot of water.”

  Janette couldn’t quite believe he had created the drains jus
t to reduce the amount of work Rosalie did. That didn’t seem like the Gabe she’d met, or the one Max and Anna had talked about.

  “It might be a month or more after he’s seen it that he sets into building it,” Rosalie said. “Because he ponders on things until he has it all worked out in his mind before he sets into building it. That’s how Gabe is. Thinks things through, good and solid.” With a laugh, she added, “Max, on the other hand, he’d jump into things like there was a pack of wolves chasing him. Lord, but those two could butt heads. Yet, they were the best of friends.”

  Janette had to force a lump out of her throat before she could even bite the thread in two. She didn’t need to learn anything more about Gabe than she already knew. Thankful for her speedy slip stitch, she held the dress up. “Here we are, Ruby. Let’s see if it fits.”

  After removing the towel, she slipped the dress over Ruby’s shoulders and tugged the material down until it flowed clear to her tiny ankles. The child was thin. Though Janette had arrived in Texas as soon as possible, Ruby had also been ill, and it had been weeks since the child had eaten as she should. After dealing with the necessary tasks, Janette had packed Ruby up and left Texas as quickly as she’d arrived. At the first stage stop, she purchased all the extra food she could and had encouraged the child to eat regularly while traveling.

  “Well, you certainly are swift with a needle, aren’t you?” Rosalie said. “Talented, too. It doesn’t even look like it had been one of my old sleeping gowns.”

  “It’s just a simple pinafore,” Janette said, turning Ruby around to make sure the makeshift gown fitted properly. Whether it was a simple shift or a dazzling ball gown, every garment she made filled her with joy. Her mother had said that one must enjoy their work, and Janette believed that wholeheartedly. “But it will do nicely until her clothing dries.” Once again, she was inclined to say, “I’m sorry for the trouble we are putting you through.”

  “Trouble?” Rosalie shook her head. “This is more fun than I’ve had in a long time.”

  The shine in Rosalie’s eyes and the grin on her face made Janette smile. Couldn’t help it. The older woman beamed like a ray of sunshine. Shaking her head, Janette said, “Well, if doctoring poison ivy victims and washing clothes is fun, I don’t think I want to know what you usually do.”

  Rosalie’s laughter bounced off the walls as she picked up the basket of clothes. “Oh, darling, it’s not the work. It’s the company that makes it fun. There are plenty of people living on the Triple C, but every one of them is so busy, few enter the house. Some days I’m so lonely, I find myself talking to the flies.” With a nod toward Ruby, she continued, “Follow me. There’s a mama cat with a basketful of rambunctious kittens on the back porch that I think someone is going to love.”

  Ruby did love the kittens, and, feeling useless, Janette insisted there had to be something she could do while Rosalie washed their clothes. Finally giving in, Rosalie stated that although she could cook every type of food known to man, she had two left hands when it came to sewing. Therefore, while Ruby played with the kittens and Rosalie washed clothes, Janette sewed on buttons, stitched up rips, patched holes and sewed pockets back on a variety of clothing.

  “The hands are gonna be happier than frogs in a pond,” Rosalie said. “Some of those things have been in that basket so long I don’t remember what belongs to whom.”

  “I’m happy to do something useful,” Janette replied.

  “You’re useful, all right,” Rosalie said. “So useful, I’ll be carrying down a second basket of mending afore I start making those apple dumplings.”

  Chapter Three

  A familiar and tantalizing smell met Gabe as he entered the house. Apple dumplings. Rosalie hadn’t made them in a while. Regardless of the heavy thoughts that had hung with him all day, a smile touched his lips at how his stomach growled. She’d made them because of their company, but that wouldn’t stop him from eating several. Having already washed up with the others near the bunkhouse, he headed straight for the wide staircase on the far side of the front foyer. In his room, he was surprised to see his favorite tan shirt in his wardrobe. Usually mending of any kind took Rosalie months. It never bothered him, but he had missed this shirt. Most of his others were too tight across the shoulders.

  After tucking in the shirt, he combed his hair and left his hat on the dresser. His mother had been a stickler for hats not being worn at the table, and though she’d been gone over ten years, he abided by that rule every evening. Along with several other women, his mother had been in his thoughts today. She’d have been beside herself with happiness to see Ruby. Father, too. They both had talked about generations of Callaways living on the Triple C. Mother had loved the ranch as much as the rest of them and had worked as hard. She’d been the one to teach him how to use a branding iron, along with various other tasks. Back then, Father had been gone a lot. Buying cattle, driving them home. Mother had always stayed home and saw that the work was done just as regularly as Father would have. Anna’s enthusiasm at seeing the ranch had reminded him of his mother. Although she’d been on her way to Denver, Anna had said she didn’t like living in the city, but that her sister did.

  Janette was that sister. The one who’d insisted Anna go to Denver. He wasn’t about to let Janette have the chance to insist Ruby do anything. Especially something she wouldn’t want to do. He’d concluded that while sorting out the cattle that would soon be driven to the rail station and shipped west.

  Miss Janette Parker was about to see just how stubborn he could be.

  A thought had him pausing in his bedroom door, taking a moment to inspect the stitches that secured the pocket to the front of his shirt. He’d accidentally ripped the pocket completely off a while back. The neat and even stitches were not Rosalie’s handiwork. She’d been mending his clothes for years and had never mastered the art of even stitches.

  Oh, well. The repair of a shirt, his favorite or not, would not put Miss Janette Parker in a better light. Not in his mind. Or his life.

  Gabe made his way through the second floor and down the stairs before he heard the laughter. It made him stop and listen. It had been a long time since the sound of a child’s laugh had echoed off these walls. Some of the walls—actually, most of them—hadn’t been there when he and Max had been small. A lot had changed since those early years, and in the last five years. The building of the railroad had a lot to do with the changes. Ever since that first engine, almost every train that stopped several miles north of the house to take on water also unloaded building materials his father had ordered. For the past six years, he’d been the one ordering the materials and the supplies to keep the Triple C prospering.

  Giggles still filtered the air, and once again, he found himself cracking a grin. It was clearly a child’s laughter, a little girl’s. Even small, girls and boys sounded different. A pang shot across his stomach. One that held sorrow. If Max had chosen differently, he’d be here now to hear his daughter’s laugh.

  That idea was still mingling in Gabe’s mind when he pushed the kitchen door open. Without thought, he reached down and scooped up the flash of fur trying to escape the room by running between his legs. About the same time he caught the kitten, Ruby skidded to a halt in front of him.

  Before, he’d thought she looked like Anna, but at this moment, he saw Max. The streak of freckles across her nose is what did it. He’d teased Max about those spots more than once. Max had gotten back at him with his own teasing. They’d been each other’s greatest opponent as well as best friend.

  Kneeling down, he held out the black-and-white kitten. “Is this little rascal trying to escape?”

  Ruby nodded.

  “Why?”

  “Ruby was—”

  Gabe let his gaze stop Janette’s explanation. “I think Ruby can answer for herself.” Smiling at the child, he said, “Can’t you, Ruby?”

  Nodding, she said, �
�It ran back in the house.”

  “It did?”

  “Yes, it did,” Janette said. “Ruby put the others on the porch, but—”

  His leveled gaze stopped her again. The child didn’t need her protection, not from him. She, on the other hand, might if she kept interrupting.

  “It doesn’t want to stay on the porch with the others?” he asked Ruby.

  She shook her head and frowned. “No.”

  He could look high and low and never find another little girl as cute as this one. Stroking the kitten’s back, he said, “Maybe because this one likes you.”

  Her smile made his heart tumble as it never had before. At that moment she was the spitting image of Max, and the shot of pain that ripped through Gabe told him just how much he missed his brother. Would forever miss him.

  His throat grew scratchy and thick as he forced his thoughts to remain on Ruby. “Would you like to keep this one with you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Ruby said, clapping her hands together. “Yes. Yes.”

  “Then here you are.” Handing her the kitten, he helped her get a solid grasp on the tiny, furry body before he glanced across the room at Rosalie, who was grinning. “Would you find a basket for Ruby’s kitten?”

  “Right away,” Rosalie answered. “I have one in the washroom that will work perfectly.”

  “That way it won’t run away while you’re eating,” Gabe said to Ruby. “Afterward, you can take it upstairs to your room.”

  Ruby nodded while clutching the kitten beneath her chin.

  He’d have had to be dead to not feel the glare Janette was giving him as she stood behind Ruby with both hands on her little shoulders. However, he could choose to ignore it.

  “Do I smell apple dumplings?” he asked Ruby.

  “Yes,” she said, with almost as much enthusiasm as she’d used a moment ago.