Wedding At Rocking S Ranch. Kathryn Albright
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up. Twice during the summer, she had fainted because of the heat—although her mother had thought it due more to her indisposition than the humidity and temperature.
“I appreciate you doing this for me,” she said, growing tired of the silence and hoping once more to draw the man out. She wanted to know more about the property and his friendship with her late husband. “Do you visit Doug’s farm often?”
“When I hunt.”
“So, there is good hunting? What sort of animals do you hunt?”
“Quail, turkey, rabbit, deer.”
Short answers and still no smile or glance her way. “How did you and my husband meet?”
“At the ranch.” He darted a quick glance aside at her. “It’s a ranch. Not a farm. Don’t call it a farm.”
She stiffened. He may have only been correcting her, but it felt like a critical chastisement. “I’m sorry if I offended you. Ranch, then,” she said, acknowledging him.
She should be giddy with having drawn such a string of information from him. The sarcastic thought was not like her. What was wrong with her? Why were her emotions on edge with him? Usually, around others she was numb. For nearly a year now she had been numb. All this traveling must be more wearing on her than she had anticipated.
He didn’t elaborate further, and after a few attempts on her part to learn more, she grew quiet. What was the point of trying to drag information out of him when it was obvious he didn’t care to talk? She looked over the river to the far bank and the rolling prairie beyond, her thoughts flashing back to the Potomac River that flowed so near her parents’ estate. There was no comparison between the two. They were both too different.
The buggy lurched suddenly, and before she could react, Mr. Wolf grabbed her arm. “Hang on!”
Strength pulsed from his steadying grip.
Startled, she met his gaze. “I’m all right.”
He let go, but she caught the relief in his eyes before he turned his focus back to the road.
She drew her shawl tighter together at her throat, as if somehow the material could shield her from him. The heat from his touch burned through her sleeve. When he’d thought she might slip off the seat, the look of worry that had flashed in his eyes surprised her. She didn’t understand it. Up to now he hadn’t shown any concern for her. He had treated her like an obligation—one he carried out with obvious reluctance.
They continued on, the dirt road curving around a few bluffs and then skirting the river again. They forded a shallow creek. Mr. Wolf made no attempt to speak again.
“I imagine this is how it will be at the ranch,” she finally said. “No one will appreciate my intrusion. This next month will be an uncomfortable dance between the men there and me.”
“You plan to stay a month?”
“That’s what my late husband asked of me. Is there a problem with the length of my stay?”
“No. Just figuring things. You’ll be around for the fall roundup.”
She hadn’t heard that term before. “A roundup? Just what does a roundup entail?”
He darted a glance at her, his jaw tightening for a second before he answered. “We gather the herd, brand the new calves and drive a portion of them to the stockyards.”
“Oh. Then it is the procedure for taking them to market to sell?”
He shook his head. “Ma’am. You really do know nothing of ranching.”
He wasn’t condescending. He was simply stating a fact, but still she was irritated. “And obviously you consider that a bad thing. Yet I’m sure you would know nothing of my life back in Alexandria, so perhaps we can call a truce.”
He didn’t answer immediately but then blew out a breath. “You should know that the men at the ranch are hard workers and loyal to the Rocking S. One has lived on the ranch since Doug’s father planted his first fence post back in ’63. He and the others helped make it what it is today.”
“Meaning that I am an outsider? That I am not welcome?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Dismay and hurt swirled inside, making her chest tighten. She hadn’t expected to arrive with fanfare and a welcome party, but she did expect common courtesy. “Doesn’t it mean something that Douglas chose me for his wife?”
Mr. Wolf stared straight ahead.
She huffed out a breath. “Wonderful. So they dislike me already, sight unseen. Even though I married Douglas. Even though I am the new owner of the ranch. Thank you for pointing that out.”
His jaw ticked. “Most people around here judge someone by their actions. Not by who they marry.” He slanted a look at her. “’Course, you jumped at marrying faster than a lot of women would. Five weeks. That’s not much time to get to know someone.”
So that was what was bothering him so! “Do you think I tricked Douglas into marrying me?”
He pressed his lips together, thinning them into a line. He drew back on the reins, stopping the buggy. When he spoke, his deep voice held tempered frustration. “You didn’t come when his body was laid to rest. Why is that? Why did you leave it up to me?”
The full brunt of his animosity startled her. He judged her unfairly. Heat rolled off her as she tried to find the right words. To tell him the full truth would give him the advantage. He would think her a weak woman, and she couldn’t let him or anyone think that. “My reasons are no one’s business but my own!”
She lifted her chin, unable to believe she faced the same cynicism here as she had in Alexandria. She’d hoped it would be different here. She’d hoped to find a small bit of acceptance, yet if Doug’s good friend was suspicious of her motives, how much worse would the men at the ranch be?
He gave a sharp snap to the reins, and the horse and buggy started forward again.
The movement loosened her tongue. “Strange though it may seem to you, where I come from, a woman is judged very much by who she marries. My parents knew nothing of Douglas or his background. They tried to separate us the moment they saw that things were getting serious. They weren’t impressed with him or the small amount of property he possessed. But I trusted him, and for the short time we had together, I cared deeply for him. That is why, when he asked me to do this, I promised that I would.”
The lump in her throat grew twice as big. Her eyes stung with tears. She would die before she cried in front of this soulless rock of a man. She’d thought... She’d hoped that Mr. Wolf would be an ally. A friend. It was obvious that any regard he had for her husband did not extend past him to her.
Perhaps it was best to speak only of the ranch and the property. After all, her true business in being here—to honor Douglas’s request—wasn’t anyone’s business but her own. Once she had control of her emotions, she tried again, but this time, she made the attempt to see things through his eyes. “I suppose if the men have worked at the ranch as long as you say they have, they must be very good at what they do.”
“They are,” he said, his words clipped. He paused but then continued in a quieter voice. “What I’m saying, Mrs. Stewart, is they feel a part of the ranch. It is more than a job to them. It is a way of life. If your purpose for coming here is to sell the land, they’ll have trouble with it.”
She hadn’t given the repercussions of selling much thought. Her plan was to spend a month on the ranch and then focus on getting the ranch off her hands and collecting the money. Now this Mr. Wolf brought up an entirely different side. Would new owners bring their own set of men to run the ranch? Would Douglas’s men be out of a means to make a living?
“Is that what they think? That I’m here only to sell the property?”
“It makes