A Ranch To Call Home. Carol Arens
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He looked so proud, preening like a peacock with his feathers splayed. How could she not adore him?
“I met an old man last night. We hit up a friendship and he told me how he was headed east to live out his days with his granddaughter. He sold his place to me but I told him to make the deed out to you. I know how you’ve got your heart set on a house of your own.”
A house of their own, she knew he meant to say. “But how did you pay for it?”
They had planned to work and save and finally make that dream come true. Now here it was, not a flight of fancy, but a reality in her hands. She could scarce believe what she was looking at.
“Well, that’s the thing, Laura Lee.” He cast a glance over his shoulder at the men walking single file down the boardwalk, then turning at the ally running between the hotel and the stream that trickled through town. “I’ve still got to pay it off. There’s a mortgage.”
“We’ve got to pay it off, you mean. The both of us will work hard and get it done.” She hugged him about the middle as tight as she could. Any man who would do this for her must love her more than...air or food or...or anything. She regretted thinking badly of him for knowing those men and for being called Hell Dog.
Johnny Ruiz was a man among men.
“The fortunate thing is—” he loosened himself from her grip of gratitude and shoved a slip of paper in her hand “—I know a way of getting it paid off quick. But I’ve got to go away with the Underwood boys to do it. But that there is directions to where the ranch is.”
“I don’t trust them.” Here she was with her dream in her hand, a deed of ownership in her name and so fresh that the ink smelled damp, and she was turning shrewish again.
“I told you, Laura Lee, they’re not so bad as they seem. Trust me, what we’re doing isn’t illegal.”
“Or dangerous? I couldn’t go on if something happened to you.”
“Don’t you worry.” He held her away from him, took two long steps backward. “You go on home and fix the place up. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“When? You must have some idea of when.”
“Hard to say—not long, though. Before first snow, I reckon.”
“We could get married now, before you head out.”
“I’d like that, you know I would. But the fellows are waiting.”
She held on to his arm. “Thank you. This is more than my dream come true.”
Pounding hooves trembled the dirt. Five animals carrying Underwoods galloped up the road. One horse was being led without a rider.
Johnny peeled her fingers from his arm. He backed away.
“Bug-ock, bug-ock!” clucked one of the Underwoods. This one was short, slim and had blond hair that curled tightly to his scalp.
Johnny turned to glance at him. When he looked back at Laura Lee a smile blazed across his face.
“Goodbye, Johnny!” All of a sudden, she wasn’t sure the house was worth the cost of having him go away. She ought to be a married woman by now. “I love you!”
“Wait for me!” he called, mounting his horse.
“I will! I promise I’ll be waiting!”
Maybe he heard her promise. She couldn’t be sure, though, because galloping off with his friends, he did not glance back.
Two wagons were for sale in the livery. One was small and weathered. It would carry her home but would not work to transport all the goods she would need in order to set up housekeeping.
The other one was large and new. She smelled the freshly sawed wood the moment she walked into the livery. It would only take one trip to bring everything she needed. But it would require a pair of durable workhorses to pull it. Saffron, her sweet saddle mare, was not used to such hard work.
Laura Lee knew exactly how much money was in the pocket of her petticoat by the weight of it. It had gotten heavier, but only slightly, since she left the Lucky Clover Ranch.
Before Johnny came for her in Travers Ridge, she, along with Agatha Magee, had worked as cooks. First for a hotel that went bankrupt, then for a traveling circus.
Laura Lee had managed to collect her pay from the hotel owner, who was a good and decent woman. Sadly, the owner of the circus was neither good nor decent and still owed her a week’s wages.
If she had her way, she would have gone after him and pestered him until he paid, but Johnny had come for her, and what really mattered other than that?
Loving man that Johnny was, he thought their time would be better spent in a hotel room. Naturally, she’d reminded him that an even better use of time would be spent with a preacher.
Given that they were traveling together, and in constant company, he’d tried to convince her it was like being married. He vowed that he was as devoted to her as he would be when they were officially wed and that waiting was hard for a man. Especially when he loved a woman so. In the end, he’d accepted the wait. He even promised to replace the money the circus owner had cheated her of.
He had more than kept the promise. He’d bought her a house...and land! Even though she was not yet Mrs. Johnny Ruiz, she soon would be. Johnny would return, just like he swore he would.
Yes, it was disquieting to remember the look on his face when he rode away, like it was the dream of a lifetime to be running free.
When that image threatened to subdue her joy, all she had to do was remember the deed packed away in her trunk.
That piece of paper proved his vision for their future was the same as hers...to settle down in their own little home and raise babies.
A huge gray-and-brown dog wandered into the barn, distracting Laura Lee from her woolgathering. Bartholomew Rawlings, the liveryman, shooed it outside with the bristle end of a broom. He shook his head, sighed, then set the broom against the gate on the larger wagon.
She dearly wanted that one. Did she dare risk spending so much of her money on it? Johnny had been vague about how long he would be gone. What if a mortgage payment became due before he returned?
She would need an income in order to cover it.
Mending and washing laundry...she knew those skills with the best of them. But one needed clients before she could begin earning money that way. The only person she was acquainted with in Forget-Me-Not was Auntie June.
Besides that, she did not particularly enjoy mending and washing.
“You can’t beat this wagon, ma’am.” Mr. Rawlings gripped the large front wheel of the wagon, shook it to demonstrate how solid it was. Then he pointed a finger to a stall on the far side of the barn. “Whittle and Bride