There was nothing to do now but wait until everything could be sorted out. It was a mighty strange ride, all told. At last, the large iron gates of the Colgan ranch loomed ahead. He let the horses bound through and then slowed them to a respectable pace as they neared the ranch house.
Sure enough, the justice of the peace’s carriage was parked out front.
Miss Westmore gasped as they drew close enough that she could read the lettering on the carriage door.
“See? I told you.” He couldn’t resist reminding her. “They are probably ready to start the ceremony right now. Still think I’ve gone ’round the bend?”
She glowered at him and jumped down from the carriage, without waiting for help. Then she flounced inside the house, slamming the door shut behind her.
He stared after her. Maybe it would be better to leave her alone with her aunt for a while. He drove the horses around to Mrs. Colgan’s stable, where they would be more sheltered from the wind and sun. He unhitched them and took a seat on a nearby bale of hay. Then he took Laura’s letter out of his pocket.
“Thank you for the hair riben, Pa.” It was written in her large, childish handwriting. Then Pa had been crossed out, and Father scribbled over it. For some strange reason, that hurt. Now, away from home, she was learning to call him Father, when all he could remember was her tiny, sweet voice saying “Pa.” He had insisted that his daughter would call him Pa, which had made Emily roll her eyes. “I suppose she’ll use suitable Western slang,” she’d said, as soon as Laura’s infant burbling had matured to recognizable speech. “But I prefer to be known as ‘Mother’ to her.”
He folded the letter back up. No sense in going on until he knew whether or not he’d get to bring her home soon. It was painful to read, wondering if he would hear her call him anything again.
If he was a praying man, this would be a good time to raise his voice in prayer. But he had finished with the Lord a long time ago when his marriage had soured, and then his wife died and his only child was taken away.
There was nothing to do but wait a little longer and see if his betrothed would agree to be his bride.
* * *
Ada stared at Aunt Pearl. She had not seen her aunt since childhood, and those memories had long ago blurred to almost nothing. The tall, stern woman before her bore a strong resemblance to Father, especially in the way her every glance was a challenge. “So what Mr. Burnett said is true. You did sell me into servitude.”
Aunt Pearl threw back her head and laughed, a hearty sound that made one feel utterly ridiculous. “I doubt Jack said that. Come, now. Have a little common sense. He needs a wife in order for his daughter to come home. You need a livelihood. The arrangement is simple. A marriage in name only, and you would be paid to make the kind of home that suits his in-laws. I’m sorry my letter didn’t reach you in time, but there it is. Sometimes our best-laid plans get derailed.”
Ada sank into a tufted velvet chair that had been recently—and hastily—vacated by the justice of the peace the moment she had hurtled into her aunt’s parlor. Her head ached, pounding in her ears. Her breath came in short gasps. She was thousands of miles away from the only home she’d ever known and from her sisters. She had come out here specifically to raise the money needed to finance the rest of their education. Failing that, she would create a home for them, and they would come live with her.
Marriage to Jack Burnett, though distasteful, would solve both problems. She would earn money and create a home.
When her father died and his business affairs had collapsed, she had accepted her role as head of the family, even though she was just twenty years old. It was her duty to come out to Texas and create a life for herself and for her sisters so that they could all be together again someday. They were only a few years behind her, but she was miles ahead of them both in terms of maturity and a sense of duty. She had envisioned being her aunt’s helpmate on her sprawling ranch. She had not planned on marrying and certainly never thought of marrying a stranger. Yet, by doing just that she could solve her problems immediately.
“I never considered getting married.” She stated it slowly and firmly.
“Oh, you’re just saying that because you’re a suffragette,” Aunt Pearl replied with a laugh. She settled into the chair opposite Ada and regarded her frankly.
“I prefer the term suffragist. Adding a diminutive suffix, such as-ette, to the noble cause of suffrage demeans our work, I feel.” They were going off on a tangent, but at the same time, she had to take every opportunity, however untimely, to educate others about the cause. “But, no, that is not the reason, Aunt Pearl. I saw what happened in my parents’ marriage. Father took Mother’s fortune and ran through it like water. Mother was powerless to stop it. Once she married, all she had belonged to him.” She shuddered. “That’s why I campaign for the right to vote. Women should demand equality in all things. I refuse to suffer the same fate as my mother.”
Aunt Pearl looked at her, silent for a moment. She resembled Father so closely. She had the same blue eyes and the same steel-gray hair. Even the way she folded her hands in her lap was a familiar gesture. It was strange, being around someone who looked so much like her parent and yet wasn’t. The comparison between the two made a lump rise in her throat. Yes, she was angry at Father and had despaired of his wastefulness, but she did miss him all the same.
“I know Augustus was a poor businessman,” Aunt Pearl finally admitted. “Even way out here, we heard of his goings-on. The big fancy house in New York, the debutante balls, the jewels...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Then he started dabbling in politics. Gus always got in over his head with stuff like that. Did he really try to rig that election?”
Ada shrugged. “I don’t know. I never had the chance to ask him. He died the day the scandal broke. I’ve been too busy trying to arrange things since then to even stop and wonder if he was guilty.”
Aunt Pearl nodded. “Tell me, Ada, do you have faith?”
What a surprising question. Ada had never really considered the matter before. “Yes, of course. We go to church every Sunday.”
“What I am talking about is faith, Ada, not worship. Living out here, you have to have a lot of trust in God. There isn’t any other way to make it. Do you believe that God has a plan for you?”
“I suppose so.” Uneasiness gripped Ada. “Are you saying that He wants me to marry Jack Burnett?”
Aunt Pearl laughed again. “Child, you are sharp. You don’t need the suffrage movement, but I could see how it might need you. I am telling you that Jack Burnett is a fine young man, with a lot of land of his own and a pretty house up on the hill. He’s handsome, to boot, but you’ve seen that for yourself. I’ve known him since he moved out here with his first wife, Emily. She was a bit hoity-toity for my tastes, and I think you’ll be a better match for him than she was. You could do a lot worse.”
“If I marry him, it would be in name only. You said so yourself.” Ada stood her ground. She folded her arms across her chest.
“If you’re worried that Jack Burnett will run through your money, like Gus did to your mother, just remember that you have not a cent to your name,” her aunt warned her tartly. “Only through marriage will you gain anything. Now go upstairs and freshen up. I’ll call the justice of the peace in.”
Angry frustration rose in Ada’s chest, but the solution was before her.
She
