A Sweet Misfortune, page 3
How could she say no to Estelle’s cheery disposition? John followed her over to the smart black carriage and assisted her up on the seat next to Estelle.
———
“John, don’t you have something better to do than stand about all day lollygagging with a pretty lady?” Estelle teased. “How about you go back to the Wild Horse and fetch the rest of Rachel’s belongings?”
John grinned and pulled his gloves out of his back pocket, pausing a moment to put them on. “Matter of fact, I was just going to saddle up Cutter and ride out to check on the boys repairing the fence line, and then I’ll take care of getting your things, Rachel. Enjoy your tour of the ranch, and maybe I’ll see about you riding Midnight sometime.”
“I’d appreciate that, John,” Rachel said.
John’s lingering gaze on Rachel, which she seemed oblivious to, wasn’t lost on Estelle’s keen eye. She tapped the reins lightly across the mare’s back and with a jiggle of the harness, the two set off down the lane farther away from the ranch to enjoy the crisp fall air.
5
The ladies enjoyed the ride in comfortable silence for a few moments, neither wanting to break the serenity, but Estelle, being a no-nonsense woman, finally spoke. “Rachel, I want to get right to the point. We don’t know each other, but I want to offer my assistance in any way I can. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t be alone in a cow town like Cottonwood, and I shudder to think of you working in a saloon.”
“It’s not as bad as it could be, and I appreciate your kindness, but I really don’t see why it matters at all to you. Did you know my parents?” Rachel’s brow knit together in question.
“No, I didn’t. But since your brother is a friend to my grandson and wrote to him for help, then naturally, I care what happens to you. I don’t take that sort of thing lightly.” Estelle steered the horse around uneven ground as they bumped along. Now that she’d driven off the dirt lane, she needed to pay close attention to the land ahead. She was too old to fall off a carriage now or it’d be the end of her for sure . . . just like Lura. She shook her head—it wouldn’t do to start thinking about that now. Estelle sensed Rachel’s gaze on her.
“If you’ve lived here for years, I’m baffled as to why you didn’t know my parents before they died,” Rachel said.
“I only came to live in Paradise Valley after my husband died. I was still in good health, and felt like John needed me and Wyoming didn’t. John’s father, Milton, was the apple of my eye. His wife, Charlotte, died not long after he did—from pneumonia or a broken heart, I’m not entirely sure which. Life can be really hard sometimes.” She paused, then asked, “What happened to your parents, if you don’t mind me asking, Rachel?”
Rachel fidgeted on the seat, and Estelle decided she should’ve waited until Rachel felt comfortable around her to ask such a personal question.
“They both died of cholera,” Rachel said matter-of-factly, showing no emotion when Estelle sneaked a sideways glance at her.
“I’m sorry. I remember reading about how quickly people died from cholera. How were you and Preston able to escape it?”
Rachel glanced around at her. “Divine intervention, I guess you could say. Preston and I were both shipped off to stay with our aunt and uncle in North Dakota for the summer to help them on their potato farm.” Rachel took a deep breath. “My aunt wouldn’t let us return home until nearly fall to be sure we were safe and the outbreak was nearly eradicated. Preston and I pretty much took care of the ranch, but we got behind on everything, including the taxes.”
“Oh, I see—”
“No, you don’t see. You don’t know what it’s like to lose your parents, then your livelihood, and then your home!”
Estelle felt sorry for the young lady, and her outburst and accusation stung, but it wouldn’t do any good to go into that now, so she merely replied, “Maybe I can relate more than you know. Try to remember, Rachel, I’m a friend and not your enemy.”
Stopping the carriage, Estelle gestured with a wave of her hand. “This gives the best view of the ranch and surrounding land that John has acquired. You can’t see your place from here, but I’m sure your brother will return to repay the taxes to John soon, and then you’ll be back at your home place.”
Cattle dotted the grasslands below with ranch hands scattered about tending them, along with the sheepdogs. The valley was still green enough for grazing, but a change in weather could happen at any time in Montana. Estelle enjoyed helping John oversee the large cattle ranch and was glad that she’d come to live here. Lately, she’d spent plenty of time praying for the right woman to come along for John. He needed a woman in his life—something to center his life around besides becoming one of the largest cattle barons in Montana—and she wouldn’t mind having great-grandchildren too.
She looked over at Rachel still taking in the scene before her. Her profile allowed Estelle a chance to observe her fine bone structure with long lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks and a perfect small nose. Her wheat-colored hair had abundant curls, and she had deep-set golden-brown eyes underneath her naturally arching eyebrows. When she turned to face her, Rachel’s full lips gave Estelle a friendly smile, which Estelle returned. She could make any man’s blood percolate, and maybe she did at the Wild Horse. Estelle wondered . . .
“It’s something, isn’t it?” Without waiting for an answer, Estelle turned the buggy and trotted the horse to the nearest shade tree. “Ahh, the perfect place to have the lunch that Annabelle packed for us.” She stopped the buggy underneath a large cottonwood tree, climbed down, then reached in the back for the basket of food and her gun. Rachel followed her and the two of them spread a woolen blanket on the grass to share.
“You open the basket and let’s see what Annabelle packed for us. I’m ravenous,” Estelle said, laying her gun within reach and catching Rachel’s eyes grow large at the sight of it.
“It’s always better to be armed out here in the wild country,” she said to reassure her. “Varmints and thieves alike in these parts.”
———
The older lady’s affability made Rachel curious about Estelle and she wanted to know more about her. But will I be here long enough to get to know her? She wasn’t sure of anything, but an unplanned picnic outdoors on a gorgeous day suited her just fine!
As Rachel dug into the basket, she could hear the cattle bawling and a distant cowpoke’s whistle or an occasional hoot. It brought to mind the smaller herd her family used to own—long ago. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten.
“Looks like roast beef sandwiches and apple pie slices to me,” Estelle confirmed after removing the cloth napkin. “And she packed some apple cider in a jar, too. Let’s bless the food so we can eat. I’m hungry.”
Once Estelle said grace, Rachel unwrapped her sandwich, taking a small bite. It was so delicious! “Either Annabelle is a good cook or I’m just starving.” Estelle nodded in answer, her mouth full.
“I promise not to sleep late tomorrow. I was exhausted last night.” She paused from eating a moment. “Estelle, were you serious when you said I could come to work for you in your millinery shop?” Although the possibility wouldn’t leave Rachel’s mind and the thought of going back to dance at the saloon held little appeal, she wasn’t sure she wanted to rush into anything.
Estelle patted her mouth with a napkin before answering. “Of course I was or I wouldn’t have mentioned it. I believe you’ll catch on quickly. You can start tomorrow if you think you want to stay here. You could try working three days a week, which would give you time here on the ranch to help John—though I doubt he needs it. It could help you in ranching in the long run . . . when you’re able to get your land back. You can stay in the same room you’re currently using unless you decide otherwise.”
“I’d like to give it a try. It beats what I was doing, even if I was being paid decently. There was nothing else available for me at the time. What sort of things could I possibly help John with on the ranch? He already has plenty of help with all the ranch hands, it seems.”
Estelle gave a small laugh. “I’m sure he and I can find things to keep you busy. He could certainly use help with his bookkeeping if you are good at figures.”
Rachel quirked an eyebrow at the older lady. “I am, but I can hardly see him allowing me to work on his books.”
“Don’t be too sure. My eyesight is not what it used to be nor do I have the slightest desire to keep his books in order. I shall ask him myself. Now we need to decide on your salary.”
“Perhaps you should wait until you see if you are pleased with my work first—say, a few days.”
Estelle shook her head. “Oh, I have no doubt that you’re bright enough to learn the business quickly.”
They agreed on an amount for salary that Rachel considered to be more than generous. Rachel wondered what it would be like being on the ranch daily with John. Preston, please come back soon.
“Where did you learn to dance for the saloon patrons?” Estelle asked.
Rachel folded her napkin and looked at Estelle, who was pressing her question but not in a patronizing way. “The other girls taught me. It wasn’t hard.”
“I see.”
Rachel waited for the next question she knew would probably be coming—whether or not Rachel was one of the “soiled doves.” But Estelle didn’t ask, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief—not that she had done anything of the kind, but there were a few times when it was nearly forced on her. Thank God, she was able to flee the clutches of some of the Wild Horse’s more dubious patrons. Now, she owed John—whether she wanted to admit it—for rescuing her, even if it wasn’t how she would’ve wanted it to happen.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to work at my shop. You’ll get to meet many of the ladies, whether they live on a farm or in town.” Estelle laughed. “Some of them are very interesting to observe.” She leaned against the tree trunk for support and closed her eyes.
“You’re getting me very curious now—” Rachel stopped when she heard Estelle’s even, deep breathing. The sun’s warmth, the outdoors, and the food made Rachel feel relaxed too. No harm in that, she thought as she leaned to her side, propping up on her elbow. She relaxed for a change, with the gentle breeze caressing her face, but just as her eyelids were getting heavy, she heard a movement in the brush. Rachel jerked up to see a fox step warily into the clearing and snarl with white stuff dripping from the side of his mouth.
6
Rachel held her breath, not moving a muscle as the fox slinked with his head down, edging closer to Estelle’s side. I must do something! Rachel’s heart froze, but just before the fox was ready to pounce on Estelle she suddenly remembered the gun. She reached for it, lifted the barrel, and fired once—hitting the animal dead center between the eyes. His body bounced upwards, then plopped to the ground.
Estelle startled and gave a yell, holding her hand to her chest. “What the devil—” Her eyes flew wide when she spied the fox lying next to her right leg. She quickly scrambled up as Rachel steadied her.
“Are you okay, Estelle?”
“Yes, dear, but land sakes—you saved me from being bitten by a rabid fox!” She drew in a few quick breaths as both of them moved off of the blanket.
“I don’t know if he would’ve bitten you, but I wasn’t planning on taking any chances, that’s for sure.”
“Thank you,” Estelle managed to say with a trembling mouth as Rachel handed her the gun. “Now, let’s fold this blanket over the dead animal. He’ll need to be buried. I’ll find one of the ranch hands to do it.”
“Let me move the basket first,” Rachel said. She reached for it, making sure not to get too near the fox.
Sounds of a distant gunshot immediately alerted John and his foreman, Curtis, that something was amiss, so they hightailed it in the direction of the sound with Winchester running alongside them. John was a little more than concerned since Grams and Rachel were out perusing the ranch land. Normally, he didn’t worry—Grams could take care of herself—but anything could happen in the raw territory.
They came over the rise and surveyed the valley below sprinkled with cottonwoods. It wasn’t long before he and Curtis spied both women. It appeared to him that they must have stopped for lunch, in a spot he would’ve chosen too.
Reining their horses in, they hurried to where the ladies stood.
“We heard a gunshot. What’s going on—” John began, walking toward them. He stopped, spotting the blanket on the ground.
“Rachel stopped a fox from taking hold of my leg while I was dozing.” Estelle turned to glance at their foreman. “Curtis, this is Rachel Matthews.”
Curtis tipped his hat in greeting and with a broad smile said, “Mighty nice to meet you, Miss Matthews. I admire a woman that can handle a gun at a moment’s notice.”
“And you as well. My papa taught me how to use a gun, thankfully.” Rachel smiled sweetly at him, swinging the basket, and John couldn’t help but notice the appraising look Curtis gave her. It grated on him—not that Rachel would pay him any mind, but the fact that he seemed to do that with every pretty girl he met. John chided himself, realizing he was being silly. Curtis was one of the best foremen that they’d ever had, and a good man who’d become a good friend as well. Besides, it’d be odd if he hadn’t noticed what a pretty young lady Rachel was. He remembered when Curtis used to flirt with Lura—but so did all the hands.
“Then I’m glad he didn’t eat your lunch,” Curtis teased, tossing her a warm grin.
“Well, I’m mighty glad you saved my Grams from a possible attack, Rachel.” John walked a little closer to the blanket. “Me and Curtis will take care of this. Why don’t you two go on and finish your afternoon.”
Rachel’s gaze settled on him. “You’re welcome—but it was a natural thing to do. I would do it for anyone.”
“Including me?” John teased. But Rachel only stared at him, folding her arms.
“We’ll do exactly that, John. Thank you,” Grams replied. Turning to Rachel, she said, “Let’s get back in the buggy and enjoy our ride back to the house.”
“Let me help you, Miss Estelle.” Curtis rushed over to assist Grams into the buggy and then turned to hand Rachel up, but John was already at her side.
John observed Rachel’s pretty hands and neatly filed oval nails. But that wasn’t all he noticed—like the way the sunlight played across her shiny head of curls and the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her delicate nose—all very appealing.
Rachel bristled at his look, then took her seat next to Estelle, murmuring a thank-you. A light flush warmed her cheeks as she adjusted her dress. John pulled his eyes away from hers. It was hard to judge from her expression whether she was still fuming about the saloon incident or not. She’ll thank me for it in time.
“Grams, you’ll have to buy yourself another picnic blanket. You ladies be careful, now,” John said, taking a step back and looking up at them. He turned back to Curtis, who was openly admiring Rachel now, and said, “Let’s go bury this creature.” John waved a glove in Grams’s direction before turning his focus to removing the dead animal.
———
A gentle breeze followed the ladies along the trail home where the cinquefoil and thimbleberry grew profusely. Estelle smiled to herself, remembering the many times she and Lura had driven over the ranch and stopped to chew the fat with the cowpunchers. She wasn’t sure what to make of Rachel, but she did want to give the young woman a chance. She pushed aside nagging thoughts that surfaced.
“Rachel, tell me something about your brother, Preston. Do you think he’ll come back to Cottonwood?” She cast a quick glance at the pretty occupant next to her sitting stiffly with her hands folded in her lap. Rachel was silent and Estelle wasn’t sure she would answer, but finally Rachel looked her way.
“I certainly hope so. It’s like John said. After my parents died, we couldn’t afford the taxes for the last two years, and the bank was foreclosing on us. Preston said a friend bought it and it would be a matter of time before he returned to buy it back.” Rachel sighed and paused, staring at the distant landscape. “’Course I had no idea the buyer was your grandson. Preston never told me and it didn’t matter at the time since we had to vacate the property.”
“But he’s never returned.”
“No, but he did write John about me. At least he hasn’t forgotten about me.”
“It sounds like you love your brother, and we should give him the benefit of the doubt that he’ll be able to do exactly as he said. Try not to doubt him.” Estelle felt pity for the young woman.
“I’m trying, but I must admit it’s getting hard, and he’s been gone a long time.” Estelle watched as Rachel’s face brightened a bit. “I do have a little saved, but not near enough to buy the land back from John, who seems to want to stick to their bargain.”
Estelle gave her an encouraging smile, masking a knowing look. “Well, my dear, we’ll just have to work on that, won’t we?” Rachel shot her a surprised look, then nodded.
7
Despite the fact that she would have loved to spend her days outdoors riding, with the wind caressing her face, by her third day at work for the millinery shop—appropriately named Estelle’s Millinery—Rachel was beginning to realize her good fortune. She still didn’t like how the new job had come about, but regardless of the circumstances, she was finding value in her work and soon forgot the horrors of working at the Wild Horse.
Estelle was incredibly patient with her. And so was her assistant, Molly, a rather plain, shy young woman with straight brown hair. The first day, Molly had walked her around the small shop pointing out where everything was kept and explaining how it was categorized.
“Miss Estelle likes everything to stay tidy—and I do mean tidy, so don’t take my advice lightly.” Molly gave her a lopsided frown.
“I understand perfectly.” Rachel nodded as she fingered the fine lace on a lawn nightgown. She’d never had anything as nice as that. Surely this selection was for a bridal set. “For the bride?” she asked Molly.
