The Rancher’s Devout Bride Read online

  However, as far as Jake was concerned, there was one other thing that mattered a whole lot more. He was sure that Grace already knew just how much Jake had been impressed by Miss Emma Dunbar.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Two hours later, inside the staging station, having just completed eating a simple breakfast of ham and eggs, Emma sat on a long bench at the wooden table. The girls fidgeted on either side of her. Emma watched Jake Buchanan, lounging on a chair by the empty fireplace. His sister Grace, sitting opposite her brother, glanced at Emma and smiled. Emma turned quickly away.

  Over at another table she saw Vance, still looking visibly annoyed. He'd been like that the whole time since Emma and the girls had hurriedly claimed their places on the stagecoach back at Billings. She pushed memories of their rushed departure out of her mind. No sense in thinking about that now, she told herself. There would be plenty of time to figure out what she was going to do next, once they'd reached Helena. Anxiety welled up inside her as she considered the choices she'd have to make.

  Emma was glad Vance was keeping his distance. That probably had something to do with Jake Buchanan's frequent, stern glances. Since they'd entered the station, Vance had kept his distance from Emma and the girls. And for that she was grateful to the rancher who'd carried her bags into the station.

  The dusty, slightly dark interior of the stagecoach station seemed designed to ensure that travelers wouldn't get the foolish idea of becoming too comfortable. Where she was sitting was a makeshift waiting area with one long table, a bench, wooden chairs and creaky floorboards that looked like they hadn't been washed any time this year. Thick wood beams stretched across the low-ceilinged roof. Out back, she'd been told there were some basic sleeping quarters. Emma shuddered at the thought of sleeping in a place like this. Thankfully, the stagecoach would be on its way soon.

  There was a counter by the door, behind which sat the owner of the station, an ornery, gray-haired man who'd curtly introduced himself as Dan. He regarded everyone with a disinterested gaze as he tapped his fingers rhythmically on the counter. It couldn't be much fun living out here, in the middle of nowhere, with an endless stream of folks passing through, Emma told herself.

  "When are we leaving?" Bethany asked.

  "Soon," Emma said and ran the back of her hand reassuringly down the side of the young girl's soft cheek. "Real soon." Bethany's shoulders slumped. She was more impatient than her sister, Emma told herself. That much she had learned in the short time she'd been with the girls.

  Emma glanced across at Jake Buchanan. He was leaning back on his chair, one arm casually hanging down at his side, and one booted foot resting on his knee. Right now, he wasn't looking at her. She didn't know whether to be pleased about that, or disappointed. She recalled the way he'd walked straight over to her out in the yard. There had been an impressive directness in the way he'd advanced toward her. As if he was the kind of man used to persuading, accustomed to winning the favor of anyone he met.

  She examined him for a long moment. Tall, powerfully-muscled and with sun-kissed skin betraying a lifetime outdoors. Was he what a typical rancher looked like? If so, she could hardly fail to be impressed.

  He was wearing jeans, a plaid shirt open at the collar, and well-worn-looking black boots. Emma saw Grace, his pretty, brown-haired sister, lean closer and murmur something inaudible. Jake lifted his chin up and laughed. As he did so, he glanced in Emma's direction. She felt something heavy dip in her middle. A wonderful sensation she hadn't felt in a very long time. Heart quickening, her breath hitched in her chest and she dragged her gaze away from him. No sense in betraying even the slightest interest in a man she'd never see again, after today.

  In spite of her resolution not to look at him, she found her attention drifting back toward him a few moments later. Once again, all his attention was on his sister. Now Emma could see his features better. The strong slash of his nose had a slight bump in it. Maybe the result of an accident at work. Or a fight, she told herself. Out in the yard, he'd made it plain he was willing to stand up to Vance. Even resort to physical violence, she speculated.

  But, something she'd seen in his eyes, told her that Jake Buchanan wasn't the kind of man to resolve disputes with easy violence. There was a visible softness in his gaze. The hardness she'd seen in his chocolate-brown eyes had been tempered with a patient, even kind, expression. Not what she'd expected to find out here in the Montana wilderness. Coming from New York, all her knowledge of frontier life had been gleaned from books and periodicals and hazy photographs. The reality was proving to be so different, she told herself.

  Bethany and Clara shifted nervously in their seats. "What's the matter?" Emma asked.

  Clara stamped her feet on the floorboards and squinted up at Emma. "Can't we go outside for a while?"

  Bethany nodded enthusiastically. "It's so dusty in here. I can hardly breath."

  Emma felt a sudden anxiety take hold of her. Bethany was the kind of young girl who could have breathing difficulties come on without warning. Emma had seen that more than once during the long train trip from New York to Billings, Montana. Emma had become attuned to the small signs that Bethany might be about to have difficulties. She stood and waved to the girls. "Come with me," she urged them.

  The expression on both girls' faces brightened at the prospect of getting out of the dusty staging station. They stood and followed Emma to the front door.

  From behind the counter, Dan eyed Emma and the children with a suspicious gaze. "Where are you going?" he asked brusquely.

  Emma lifted her chin and peered down at Dan. "The children find that your place isn't somewhere they want to spend the rest of the day. I'm sure you understand," Emma declared in her best haughty tone of voice.

  Dan's brows narrowed and he looked on the verge of making a quick comeback. But he was interrupted by a voice from behind Emma. "I wonder where your driver has gotten to, Miss Dunbar," Jake Buchanan said.

  Emma turned and faced him. "The children need some fresh air," she explained, ignoring his statement about the stagecoach driver.

  Jake tilted his head slightly. "I would have thought he'd have things sorted by now."

  "Perhaps you're right, Mr Buchanan," she added. "I haven't seen him for over an hour."

  Dan flicked his head. "He's out back. Having a lie-down."

  Emma frowned. "He's sleeping!" she exclaimed. "Doesn't he know we've all got places to go?"

  "He's keeping the same horses he used to get to this station," Jake explained. He glanced wearily at Dan. "Seems like he wasn't too pleased with what was on offer in the stable."

  Dan's eyes widened. "There ain't nothing wrong with any of my horses," he barked.

  "Apart from the fact that they ain't any use for pulling a Concord stagecoach," Jake countered. Dan stood quickly, but Emma saw Jake just shake his head and smile at the elderly man. "Don't go taking it all so personally, Dan."

  "Why shouldn't I?" Dan replied. "Those are my horses you're proclaiming about."

  Jake smiled at Emma. "I think he means we're insulting his horses." Jake turned to Dan. "That's a mighty big word you got there," Jake joked. "You been reading books again?" Dan's frown just got deeper at that comment. Emma lifted her hand to her mouth and hid her smile. The banter between Dan and Jake was good-natured.

  "Dan and I have known each other a few years," Jake explained. "Isn't that right, Dan? We always come this way when we take the cattle to buyers."

  Dan rubbed a hand across his unshaved chin and eyed Jake. "I can't wait for you to be on your way," he growled. "When are you and Grace leaving?"

  "We'll be on our way before midday. Be back at Inspiration before sundown."

  Emma wanted to know more about where the place called Inspiration could be. The rancher's hometown. But now wasn't the time for such questions. As she led the children out onto the porch she heard Jake's footsteps behind her. The fact that he was determined to accompany her and the children outside didn't upset her in the slightest. F
or some reason she couldn't understand, she even found his presence oddly reassuring.

  The late morning air was warmer now, and the sky was a bright blue. It felt good to be out of the unpleasant interior. Beyond the trail, the grassland dropped down into a shallow valley. In the distance was a low range of hills and densely tree-covered. A river ran through the valley, shimmering silver in the bright morning light.

  It was beautiful country, Emma told herself. She'd been so cooped up inside the stagecoach, and she'd been so aware of Vance's unwelcome presence, so protective of the children, that she'd forgotten to take in the majesty of the Montana landscape. To enjoy that fact that they were no longer in the town where they'd all found so much trouble.

  Bethany and Clara started to race out across the yard, yelling excitedly. Emma called out to them: "Stay away from the trail," she ordered. The children halted immediately and peered at Emma. There was a corral over by the side of the barn. "Go that way. Stay there a while. If you must play, make sure you stay where I can see you."

  Their high spirits instantly calmed, Bethany and Clara walked steadily toward the corral. Already the girls were aware of the need to follow Emma's instructions. Maybe after all that had happened since arriving at Billings, they both realized that Emma was all that stood between them and a difficult, even hopeless future. Or maybe they were just so used to a hard life that this was one more difficulty to be endured. Concern gripped her. Just like it had done so many times in the last twenty-four hours.

  Hearing a quiet cough from behind her, she turned and faced Jake Buchanan. "You've really got them under control there," he observed with a wry grin.

  Emma nodded. "They know not to do anything foolish," she replied. Gazing at Bethany and Clara, she sighed. "They're good girls. I couldn't have expected any better."

  She saw Jake's brows furrow, as if her words had confused him. Realizing that he might be prompted to ask awkward questions, she hastily stepped away from him, along the length of the porch. Leaning against one of the porch's wooden supports, she wrapped one arm around the post and gazed out across the yard. Jake came up next to her. She felt his presence keenly. Even though he was a total stranger, he'd shown more kindness to her in the last two hours than anyone had in a long while.

  "You all heading to Helena?" he asked.

  Instantly, she was on the defensive. "Once the driver wakes," she replied, trying to make light of his quiet inquiry. She lifted her gaze and peered up into his dark eyes. Up close like this, he was even more handsome than she'd first thought. His even features were pleasing to the eye, and his broad shoulders hinted at strength won after long-fought days of work on the rangeland. For a moment, he almost seemed like he was from a different world. And in one sense, he was. Frontier men possessed qualities that were in short supply back East. A powerful integrity in the way they conducted themselves, for a start. Honesty. Virtue. If Jake Buchanan was anything to go by.

  "You come from somewhere called Inspiration?" she asked.

  "My hometown," he replied with a nod.

  "What's it like?"

  Jake smiled and shrugged. "Some folks say it's the loveliest little town in these parts," he replied. "I'd be inclined to agree."

  "Is it big?"

  "A few hundred people, I'd say," he replied. "Plenty of folks pass through." He grinned at her. "Some we like. Some we don't think much of. But, our sheriff keeps an eye on law and order."

  "Do you like living there?" she asked. Even as she asked the question she could tell, by his expression, what the answer was going to be.

  His eyes filled with visible delight. "I have my family there. Everyone I know. All my friends. And plenty of work to keep me busy all year round," he said. "I guess a man can't expect much more than that, can he?" Saying that last part, Jake looked straight into Emma's eyes. The directness of that look made her cheeks flush warmly.

  Emma dragged her gaze away from Jake. "I suppose not," she admitted. "How long have you been there?" she asked turning back to him.

  His brows furrowed slightly, as if she'd touched a raw nerve. "We moved there after my pa died a few years back. We used to live over near Helena. But after he passed, my ma just wanted to be close to my uncle's family. So we moved."

  "I'm sorry," she gasped, realizing she'd already stepped over a line in asking him so many questions. But it was her way of preventing him from probing her for more information about herself. She couldn't allow that. "I didn't mean to pry."

  "No need to be sorry, Miss Dunbar," Jake said.

  "Call me Emma," she instructed him.

  Jake nodded and smiled. Had he just moved a step closer as he'd done that? "Emma it is," Jake said quietly. For some reason, she liked the sound of her name on his lips. Liked his accent. "And I'm Jake to all my friends," he added.

  Whether she would ever be a friend to this rancher, or even something more than that, was an impossibility not even worth considering, she told herself.

  Excited squeals from the girls over by the corral dragged her attention away from Jake. Emma looked across and saw they had both taken a tumble next to the fence. But there was nothing to worry about as she watched them both get up and dust themselves down.

  Behind her, the door opened. She saw Vance step out from the dark interior. His eyes widened when he saw Jake and Emma standing together. Was that indignation she'd seen flash across his features before being quickly masked with an unconvincing smile?

  Jake turned and saw Vance. Emma was sure she heard Jake drag in a sharp breath upon seeing the man at the doorway.

  "I best be getting over to the children," Emma suggested. She stepped off the porch. Halting, she turned to Jake. "Inspiration sounds like a nice place, Jake," she said, forcing herself to smile at him. Jealousy fluttered inside her. She'd never know what that town was like.

  "It surely is," Jake agreed. He looked like he wanted to say something else to her. But one more glance in Vance's direction seemed to change his mind.

  And then she was walking across the yard doing her best not to think about Jake Buchanan.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When Emma reached the corral and turned back to look at the building, she saw that Jake had already stepped back into the main building of the staging post. Vance was still standing there as she kneeled down in front of the fence, and started cleaning some dirt from Bethany's shoes. After a few moments, she heard the sound of footsteps coming closer. Emma turned and immediately felt a knot of worry twisting in her middle. Vance was approaching, taking slow, resolute strides, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his waistcoat. He was only a few feet away as Emma rose quickly and stood behind Bethany, settling her hands on the girl's shoulders.

  Emma patted Bethany gently and glanced at Clara. "Why don't you and your sister go and have a look at the horses in the stable," Emma instructed them both.

  Clara peered at Vance. Emma already knew that Clara had taken a dislike to the man. More than once during the stagecoach ride, Clara had snapped at Vance, causing Emma to calm the little girl down. "You sure?" Clara asked Emma.

  Emma nodded. "It's fine, girls. Go play over there. I'll be with you in a few moments."

  Bethany and Clara stomped off in the direction of the stable. Both girls twisted their necks around as they walked, keeping a wary eye on Vance. Their simple concern for her safety touched Emma's heart. Maybe she and the girls had built up a bond during the long journey from New York, after all, Emma told herself. At least that was something for which she could be grateful.

  Emma brushed some dust from her gown and straightened, facing Vance. "What can I do for you, sir?"