Authors: Joyce Wright
Thomas fumed as he stormed around the barn. How could she lie to him? He paced back and forth wasting time so Ruby could get her things and leave. Thomas would not allow a liar to raise his child. In fact if he had it his way, he wouldn’t even let her leave with Emma. He would rather raise those two on his own than let some good for nothing liar have the little girl he thought of as his daughter.
After what felt like an hour, Thomas decided Ruby had had enough time. Surely she would be gone by now. He picked up William, who was playing in a pile of hay, and left the barn. As he reached the yard, Thomas noticed there was light coming from the cabin. Ruby had not left!
He stormed through the yard, onto the porch and through the cabin door. The candles in the cabin were lit, there was the smell of food cooking, and there in a kitchen chair sat Ruby. If it hadn’t been for the fact she was nursing Emma, Thomas would have grabbed her by the arm and thrown her out of the cabin. However, something about the way Ruby held Emma to her breast stopped Thomas in his tracks. He was angry still, but it had subsided slightly.
“Are you done fuming?” asked Ruby not looking at him.
“Not really,” replied Thomas gruffly. He closed the door behind him and sat William on the floor, “I thought I told you to leave.”
“You did,” she answered still not looking at him, “But I figured you needed to hear my side of things, before you cast us out.”
“All right then,” said Thomas dryly, “Explain yourself.” He made his way over to a chair and sat down roughly in it. He looked at Ruby with bitter eyes.
“Well, to be honest there isn’t much to tell. I was a young girl when my father tried to marry me off. The man I was to marry was wealthy and lived in London and my family was very poor. The man I was to marry gave my father money to wed me. When I got there he was just horrible! We were only together one time and we were to be married that next month. Soon after I told him I was with child he fell gravely ill when the plague struck. He died a few days later. I was left alone and believe it or not, he hadn’t left a dime to me. After I buried him my home had been stripped away by his family. I decided to come to America with Emma because I was told it would be a good place to start over. I came to America and found it was not a suitable place for a woman with a young baby to start a new life. I was broke and starving. A man offered me a job in his saloon. At first I thought he wanted me to waitress, then I realized he only wanted me for my body. I had nowhere else to go, so I left. I’ve been slowly making my way from job to job around the country until I saw a company who was filling letters for mail order brides. I signed up and here I am.” Ruby finished her story, wiped Emma’s milk covered lips off with a towel and began to speak again, “So, now you know my story. If you wish for me and Emma to leave, then certainly I will abide by your wishes.”
For the second time today Thomas felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. He watched as Ruby redressed herself and placed Emma in the crib. Then she picked up William and tucked him into his own bed.
Thomas couldn’t take his eyes off her. Yes, he was angry with her for lying to him; however, after hearing her story, he could see why she hadn’t told him. Had he known who she was, he never would have let her stay. It was then that he chose to listen to his heart. He loved her.
Without thinking Thomas jumped from the chair, grabbed her and held her tight in his arms. Next thing he knew, he kissed her.
He felt her body in his arms, her lips on his as he held her closely. He kissed feverishly and to his surprise, she kissed back, wrapping her arms around his neck. Both Thomas and Ruby looked up at each other in surprise. Thomas could tell Ruby wasn’t going anywhere, and he was happy about that.
When Thomas woke the next morning he was surprised to see that it was light outside. The cabin was lit with the warm sun shining in. He was also surprised by the warm content feeling that Ruby was still there. She was still asleep, and Thomas watched as she lay peacefully. Thomas, too, felt at peace. There were no guilty feelings about his ex-wife. There were no angry or bitter feelings about Ruby’s past. He was truly content.
Looking around the cabin, Thomas noticed that William was still asleep, however, Emma gazed up at him from her crib. Smiling to her, Thomas gently picked her up and wrapping her in a blanket, he carried her outside.
Once on the porch, Thomas sat in the old wooden rocking chair and rocked Emma quietly. He looked down at the child as he rocked, she truly felt like his. The horses nickered at him, but he thought they could wait for their breakfast a little longer.
As he rocked Emma, Thomas looked out over the sunlit valley. Autumn would hit soon and all the tree leaves would be changing colors. Perfect time of year for a wedding, he thought to himself. He didn’t know if he would ask Ruby to marry him or not. After last night, the proper thing to do would be to make an honest woman out of her and claim Emma as his own child. Thomas didn’t know if they were ready for that just yet. He definitely knew he loved Ruby. He knew he wanted her to bear his children, but he just didn’t know if he was quite ready to make her his bride just yet.
At that moment the cabin door opened. Ruby stepped out wearing just her nightgown. She looked radiant, standing in the warm morning sun, her hair hanging messily down to her butt. Looking at her made Thomas shudder.
“Good morning,” said Ruby blushingly, she took in the site of Thomas rocking Emma, “Looks like I’ve been passed up for another little lady.
“Never,” said Thomas smiling at her. He stood up and kissed her on her forehead before handing Emma over to her, “But this little lady is probably ready for her breakfast.”
“I’ll get right on that,” Ruby said taking the wriggling baby in her arms and unbuttoning the shirt so could nurse. Emma ate eagerly.
Thomas walked into the cabin and pulled on his boots and hat. Then he walked back outside. Before heading to the barn to do chores, he stopped to kiss Ruby one more time. Then he walked to the barn.
The months began to pass and Thomas and Ruby’s love only grew. They also watched as their children grew together, so Thomas decided the old cabin just wouldn’t do anymore, not for such a growing family. So the following spring, he began building a new house. It would have multiple bedrooms, all of which he and Ruby would fill with children, he thought. However, there was still something missing, Thomas thought one afternoon as he marked out the spot where he would build the new house.
Without any hesitation he made his way to the cabin. Ruby was just laying Emma down for her nap, when Thomas walked through the door. He took Ruby’s hand and led her out onto the porch. Then he got on one knee.
“When you got here, I was a broken man. I had a crippled son and a couple of unplowed fields. You and Emma helped to heal me. You brought warmth and love back into this family. You also brought a beautiful little sister for my son and I can’t wait to give them more siblings. Ruby McAlister, will you do me the honor of becoming Ruby Baldwin? Will you be my wife?” Thomas asked Ruby holding her hand closely.
“When I came here, I was a broken woman, Thomas Baldwin. I had a bastard child and no money to my name. You and William took us into your home and together we have built a family of our own. Yes, I’ll marry you,” Ruby replied. Then with a passionate kiss, Thomas pulled his bride to be into his arms. He was ready to be married again.
**THE END**
Reluctantly, Jesse Greenhow placed his infant daughter back into her cradle, the one he’d built when he and Aimee had been eagerly awaiting the birth of their first child a summer ago, when all the promises he’d believed in seemed destined to come true. A hard winter later, he didn’t believe in promises anymore. Six-month old Aimee-Anne was the only survivor of those promises, and her birth had cost Aimee her life.
Sarah put her hand on his arm. “She needs a mother,” she said gently.
“She has an aunt.” He smoothed the fair, feathery hair on top of his daughter’s head. Yellow hair like her mother, and blue eyes like her mother. So much like Aimee that it hurt to look at her. Maybe it wouldn’t be so painful if he saw her every day, but that wasn’t possible. He had a ranch to run, and he didn’t know anything about rearing young ones. “A good aunt,” he amended, smiling at his widowed older sister, who’d agreed to care for the baby in her home, with five sons ranging in age from twelve to eighteen who were of an age that allowed their mother to mind a baby. “I know it’s imposing, Sarah, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“You need a wife,” Sarah said.
Jesse drew in his breath sharply, then exhaled slowly so that he had time to word his response with care. “I don’t want a wife,” he said.
“Jesse, I know you’re hurting. But you can’t be selfish. She needs a mother and you need a wife. You need a woman, Jesse.”
As always, his sister’s delicate candor caught him off guard. He rubbed his chin. He’d forgotten to shave that morning, even though it was Sunday and he’d ridden over to Sarah’s ranch, as he did every Sunday, to join the family for church and spend the day with his sister, nephews, and baby daughter.
“Where am I going to find a wife out here?”
“You could start by looking for one. There are some mighty pretty girls in town. You saw some of them in worship this morning.”
He’d seen them. Bright, giddy things, wearing their Sunday best with ribbons in their hair. No more pretty young girls with dreams of a family, not in Montana, where the winter could take those dreams and send them straight into a pine box.
Jesse shook his head. Sarah smoothed back a lock of his hair. “You need a woman, Jesse,”
How long had it been since he’d gotten his hair cut? He couldn’t remember. Aimee had taken care of those kinds of things; trimming the wild mane of hair that Aimee told him was the color of a field of wheat; reminding him that if he didn’t shave soon, she wasn’t going to let him kiss her; sewing his shirts and remembering his birthday with a molasses cake. He reckoned he looked like a mountain man by now. If he kept this up, his own daughter would be fearful to lay eyes on him when she was old enough to know who he was.
“Aimee-Anne needs brothers and sisters,” Sarah continued, tender and relentless in the same breath.
He looked up at her, his dark brown eyes raw with pain. “No more babies,” he said gruffly. “I’m done with that.”
“Jesse, you’re a young man. Too young to be a bachelor for long.”
“I’m not a bachelor, Sarah, I’m a widower. This is no place for a woman who’s---“
“Jesse, Montana didn’t kill Aimee.”
No, he acknowledged silently. He had killed Aimee. She’d given birth in the middle of a blizzard, and something went wrong, but he couldn’t leave her to get the doctor or a woman to help with the delivery, the baby had come early and the wrong way, and Aimee had poured all her waning strength into giving her daughter life. “I never should have taken her from San Francisco.”
“She wanted to marry you and be here with you. She didn’t regret her choice.”
“If she’d known it would kill her, she might have thought twice.”
“Jesse,” Sarah took him by the arms, just as she had when he’d been an unruly boy who didn’t want to do his schoolwork, and she was going to make him do it by sheer force of her will. She’d been as much mother as sister to him after Ma’s death. “I bore five big, strapping baby boys right here in Montana. There’s a time for the grieving to stop and life to pick itself back up and go on and that time is now. Aimee-Anne deserves a home with her father and some brothers and sisters. You owe Aimee that much.”
He thought of Aimee, laughing merrily as her waistbands grew tighter with the baby inside her, chattering away to him in the mornings as she prepared breakfast, full of silly talk about the babies they’d have. “Where am I going to find a wife? And don’t tell me there are plenty of women in town. There aren’t plenty, and those that are out there are young girls and widow women who’ll smother me with cakes and homemade preserves.”
“It’s how women do the courting, Jesse,” Sarah smiled indulgently. At least he was paying some attention to her suggestion.
“I don’t want to court anyone and I don’t want to be courted,” he said roughly. “I told you, I’m done with that.”
Silly nonsense. Hand-picked flowers and his best shirt, polished boots, and for what? To take a delicate young thing from her family and her home to a voracious Western land that would claim her youth and health and life.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything. You’re the one fussing over it.”
It was time to broach the idea she’d had, but she knew she’d have to do it with precision. “If you send for a mail-order bride,” she began, “you can say what you want in a wife, right up front.”
“Mail-order bride!” he exclaimed. “Are you daft? Put out an advertisement for a wife like I’m ordering equipment for the ranch?”
“Amos Blythe did it, and he’s happy with his wife.”
“Amos Blythe―“
“Is very happy with Marta, and she’s happy with him. They’re suited.”
“Suited.” He and Aimee hadn’t been suited, but they’d been in love.
“Yes. She’s not a little miss who was waiting for a chevalier to carry her off on his steed. She’s strong and wise and willing to work to keep a home. You need a woman who knows what she’s getting into.” Sarah squeezed his arm. “Jesse, promise me you’ll think about it? Not just for your sake, but for Aimee-Anne’s sake?”
Looking down at his sleeping daughter, feeling the pain of leaving her, Jesse nodded. Aimee’s death wasn’t the end of his obligation to his wife.
That night, back in his house which, he admitted ruefully was as greatly in need of a woman’s attention as his untrimmed hair, the oil lamp burned into the night as he struggled with the words that would lead a woman to come out here to marry him without promising more than he could give. Finally, tired and by now angry with himself for entertaining the idea, he finished writing and went to bed. No woman was likely to respond to an offer so ungraciously written, but he could at least tell Sarah that he’d tried.
Wanted: a wife for a widowed rancher in Montana with infant daughter. 2,000 head of cattle; ranch is owned and paid for. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, child, much work. Winter is hard. Must be healthy. Young enough for childbearing. Must know how to do without.