The Rancher’s Bride Blessing Page 4

  Noah shook his head. "The seller took most of what they needed. Only left behind some basic furnishings. Nothing I can really use. I knew that when I bought the place. It's almost an empty shell."

  "Not even a bed to sleep on?" she asked, apparently incredulous.

  "Not the kind of bed I'm used to," he said. He felt his face suddenly warm, realizing the comment he'd made could be misunderstood.

  Abigail's hand tightened around the reins and he saw her glance away from him. Feeling like he'd offended her, he tried to change the subject. "There isn't even any cattle on the spread."

  Abigail frowned. "An empty ranch? How can you run a ranch without any cattle? That doesn't make sense."

  "This is a whole new start for me. I aim to learn fast." He tried to sound confident, even though deep down he knew he had a whole lot to learn. Maybe too much, he told himself.

  "But you don't know the first thing about ranching," she declared.

  Noah stiffened slightly, feeling the beginnings of pride well up inside him. He pressed down on it, determined not to show that side of his character to this woman he'd only know barely twenty-four hours. Pride had gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past. He wasn't about to let that happen out here. "As I said. I've got some learning to do."

  "And you'll need ranch hands, too. Horses. A cook. Everything," she added disbelievingly. She shook her head and then gazed at him. "You really are starting from scratch, aren't you?"

  Noah fixed her with a steady gaze. "Why do you think I came all the way out here in the first place, Abigail? I'm making a fresh start." He ran his gaze along the length of the street. "This is a perfect place to do that." He lifted his brows. "Wouldn't you agree?"

  He was sure he saw a slight smile crease the corner of her mouth at his use of her first name. But, as quickly as it appeared, she gathered her composure, lifting her shoulders back. She frowned. "If you think I'm going to say a bad word about Inspiration, then you're going to be waiting a long time, Mr MacKendrick."

  "I wouldn't expect you to have a bad opinion of this beautiful town," he said. Noah gazed up at her, feeling his heart thumping, sensing the pounding of his pulse. "I'm going to have plenty of time to get to know Inspiration, Abigail," he added softly. "And everyone who lives here. Perhaps you can help me with that."

  "How?" she asked sharply.

  "I might have some questions I need answering," he explained. He moved closer to the buckboard, drawn to her by a compulsion he couldn't quite understand. "The kind that only someone who has lived here a while can answer."

  Abigail's mouth opened slightly. His gaze was drawn to her full lips and then up to her furrowed brow. Was he asking her to agree to some kind of liaison? A meeting? He was surprised at himself for even suggesting such a thing. And, judging by her expression, she was equally taken aback. But then, back East, this kind of easy suggestion would be all too common. Out here, though, the rules were different. Maybe he'd stepped over the line.

  Once again, he saw the color of her pale skin change imperceptibly. A long, awkward pause passed between them both. Then, abruptly she tugged on the reins in her hand and the horse reacted with a shake of its head. "You have a great deal to attend to, this morning," Abigail reminded him, suddenly cool. "Perhaps I should let you get on with your business."

  Noah glanced up the length of the street. "I'm figuring on arranging that this morning. There're some folks I'd like to speak with."

  "Who?" she asked. He noticed a sudden concern on her features. Of course she knew the town better than him. He understood that. But, did she think he was a total fool who'd be prey to any of the unscrupulous men in town?

  "I'm starting in the land office. Figure he'll be able to point me in the direction of where I can buy me some cattle," Noah explained. "I don't need too many to start with. Maybe a hundred head."

  Abigail thought for a long moment. "I'd advise you to treat anyone you speak to with caution, Noah."

  For a brief moment, he savored the sound of his name on her lips. He took it to mean her concern for him might be genuine. "Why would I need to do that?"

  She peered at him. "Let's just say Inspiration isn't all it seems to be, Noah," she stated firmly. She flicked the reins. "Trust me. I know what I'm talking about."

  Before the buckboard moved off, Noah rested a hand on the seat. She stared down at him. Waiting. "Maybe you could share some of that knowledge with me, Abigail," he suggested. "Over coffee?"

  Abigail smiled at him and hesitated. "I have to go. I wish you luck, Noah."

  Then she tugged on the reins and steered the buckboard down the street. It turned into a side street and was soon lost to sight.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Abigail drew the buckboard to a halt alongside the picket fence which bordered the garden of the grand, two level house at the end of the street. Abigail gazed up at what was probably the most elegant house in Inspiration. A long porch stretched along the high-windowed, beautifully designed front. The whole structure declared that those who lived inside were people of importance in the small circle of Inspiration society. Abigail sighed. It was so very different from what she was used to. Her family's ranch was positively plain compared to such a grand residence. Abigail felt her heart beating faster, knowing that she was about to enter a different world.

  This was the home of Lydia Chester and her husband Maxwell, who was a lawyer. One that could be trusted, Abigail reflected. The house was the regular venue for all the meetings of the Inspiration Benevolent Society. And the home was as grand as Lydia herself. The spectacular edifice was a testament to Lydia Maxwell's status in town. Lydia was at the heart of whatever passed for society in Inspiration. If something was going on in town, she knew all about it, courtesy of her extensive network of contacts.

  Abigail stepped down off the buckboard and made her way up the garden path. The front door opened and Abigail saw Lydia standing, a stern look on her pale features. She had her hands clasped at her middle, settled against her plain, dark brown gown. Silver-haired and well past sixty years of age, Lydia seldom granted anyone with a friendly look. It was all pretend, though, Abigail told herself as she made her way up the steps to the porch. Deep inside that forbidding exterior lay a heart of gold. A generous spirit which wanted only the best for their community.

  "Abigail Buchanan. At least you've decided to come." Lydia's voice crackled with a hint of indignation.

  Tugging the bottom of her gown upwards so she didn't trip on the steps, Abigail frowned at Lydia. "Am I early?"

  "You and Sophie are the only ones who are coming, this morning," Lydia declared.

  Halting at the front door, Abigail squinted at Lydia. "None of the others are here?"

  Lydia shook her head and pursed her lips. She gestured for Abigail to enter the hallway. "At least you're here," Lydia said. "I suppose it isn't a complete loss, after all."

  Abigail wasn't sure whether to take that last remark as a compliment or not. She let it pass and made her way into the sumptuous sitting room. Sophie Cameron was seated on the purple velvet-covered sofa. Sophie already had a teacup in her hand. Upon a small table in front of her was a silver tray with a curved teapot and cakes. More white china cups had been laid out than would be needed, Abigail reflected as she made her way to Sophie, who laid her cup down and stood.

  "Abigail," Sophie exclaimed. "Good morning." Both women exchanged a gentle, polite hug and then sat down alongside each other on the sofa. Sophie's scent was a simple perfume. Sophie was dressed in a light blue gown which set off her clean, bright skin, shining eyes and blonde hair. As always Sophie looked excited.

  Since Sophie was the woman who had been responsible for most of Abigail's cousins finding wives three years ago, and consequently holding onto their ranch which had been threatened with loss, Abigail always felt happy whenever she was in the company of the sheriff's wife. There was something reassuring about Sophie's presence. Something calming. And, after meeting Noah MacKendrick back there outside the ho
tel only a few minutes ago, Abigail needed all the calming influences she could find.

  Lydia poured tea for Abigail and then took her seat by the fireplace. The grandest chair in the room was almost like the throne of royalty. It had a curved back and was covered in expensive looking green fabric. The sides of the chair were of carved wood. The wooden legs had been fashioned into the feet of an animal.

  Lydia settled back in her chair, looking completely in control, even though there were only two others in the room. Lydia was, in fact, Inspiration's version of the upper class, Abigail reflected.

  "What are we dealing with today?" Abigail asked. She knew there was a family of homesteaders who were needing some assistance because the father had injured himself while plowing. It meant helping hands might be needed. And urgently.

  But, instead of that, Lydia went immediately to another topic. "Sophie has told me something very interesting," Lydia said. Her voice sometimes took on a curious quality, Abigail reflected. Now Lydia was talking about what she considered important matters, her voice had taken on an imperious, regal tone.

  Abigail glanced at Sophie. "She has?"

  Sophie smiled and nodded. "The new rancher in town."

  Abigail felt something heavy sink in her middle. "Oh," was all she could say.

  "I believe he is your neighbor," Lydia commented. Her bright, small eyes locked upon Abigail. "Have you met him?"

  Startled by the suddenness of the query, Abigail took a quick sip of tea. She put the cup down and nodded. "I have met him."

  "And?" Lydia inquired.

  "He's a most pleasant gentleman," Abigail offered.

  "Gentleman? Of course he is a gentleman. I have heard he is from a distinguished Philadelphia family," Lydia stated.

  "He does have the manners you would expect to find in someone from such a background," Abigail admitted.

  "Where did you meet him?" Sophie asked breathlessly.

  Hesitating slightly, Abigail took another sip of tea. Placing the cup down she said: "I visited his ranch."

  There was a long silence. The sound of the ticking grandfather clock suddenly seemed unnaturally loud. Abigail glanced at Lydia. There was disapproval there, Abigail told herself. No doubt about it.

  "You have already been to his ranch?" Lydia intoned. "But he only got here yesterday."

  "I happened to be passing through when he arrived," Abigail admitted, realizing it didn't sound altogether convincing.

  "Out in the middle of nowhere?" Lydia probed, leaning slightly forward in her chair. "And you happened to be passing by?"

  Abigail looked to Sophie, seeking even the most meager assistance. Whenever Lydia disapproved of something, emergency measures were usually required to retrieve the situation.

  "His ranch is next to where Abigail lives, Lydia," Sophie suggested. "It's only natural she would want to find out more about her new neighbor."

  Lydia's lips twitched dismissively. Her brows ridged into deep furrows. She seemed to consider her next words carefully. When she spoke her voice was steady. "And what did you find out about our new rancher?"

  Abigail realized she had become the sole source of information about Noah MacKendrick. If the truth about the newcomer was to be revealed, Abigail herself would have to be that source. Lydia would extract every available fact from Abigail. If, that is, Abigail allowed it, she told herself. Suddenly, she wasn't sure she wanted to reveal anything about Noah. "As I said. He seems very much the Eastern gentleman."

  "But not the ranching type," Lydia said. "Is that what you mean?"

  Abigail felt her face flush with sudden heat. She didn't like the way Lydia was talking about Noah. "He seems very capable. And able to provide for himself."

  Lydia's head tilted to one side. "By that, I suppose, you mean he is rich."

  Abigail stiffened, feeling instantly defensive on Noah's behalf. He wasn't here to defend himself against these judgments, Abigail told herself. "He does seem to be self-sufficient," Abigail replied. "That might make what he's trying to do a little easier."

  Realizing what she'd said would open up another line of inquiry, Abigail glanced at Sophie. "He's planning on setting up a real ranching concern. Seems determined to make it work, too," Abigail explained.

  Sophie gazed back sympathetically at Abigail, perhaps sensing Abigail's unease. "I'm sure he'll do very well," Sophie said. Abigail felt instant relief. Sophie usually thought well of people. It seemed like a natural effect of the business she ran, bringing brides to Inspiration.

  "That may be the case," Lydia pronounced. "But, the fact is he doesn't know the slightest thing about ranching. It places a question mark over one very important matter."

  "What's that?" Abigail asked.

  Lydia lifted her chin and peered down her nose at Abigail and Sophie. "Whether he will make a suitable husband for someone living in Inspiration."

  Abigail felt her mouth drop open. Luckily, before Lydia had a chance to add to what she'd announced, Sophie chimed in. "Maybe I can help out in that regard," she said.

  "How so?" Lydia asked.

  "I could arrange for some introductions, for example," Sophie said. "I've done it before," she added. She glanced at Abigail. "And with quite a bit of success with your cousins."

  "That was quite a different matter," Lydia declared. "Abigail's cousins were professional ranchers. They've lived that life all their days. Been brought up to know what it really means. Mr MacKendrick won't find it quite so easy. And so, anyone who becomes attached to him might find life rather difficult."

  For some reason, Lydia's low opinion of Noah MacKendrick annoyed Abigail. "We don't know what Noah is truly capable of," she said. She bit her lip, realizing she'd spoken of the newcomer with a premature familiarity.

  "Noah," Lydia said and gave Abigail a long look.

  Eager to move on, Abigail continued. "He is going to get a lot of help. Which I am sure he can afford to pay for. Perhaps all he needs is someone to advise him. Guide him when it comes to knowing how to run a ranch."

  "That isn't something which can be bought and paid for," Lydia stated. "Success in ranching only comes with long years of practice and hard work. Your cousins would tell him that." She sniffed sharply and glanced away. "I wonder if Mr MacKendrick is at all used to hard work. Or if he is one of those Eastern types who think they can buy their way through life without lifting a finger."

  "I don't think he's that kind of man," Abigail stated quickly. "Not at all."

  Lydia and Sophie looked at her, obviously expecting further explanation. "What makes you so sure?" Sophie asked gently.

  Abigail frowned. "I don't know. Somehow, he comes across as the kind of man who knows what he wants. And won't let anything stand in his way."

  "There's no shortage of those types in this territory," Lydia replied sharply.

  Abigail shook her head. "I think Mr MacKendrick has come here with a purpose in mind. He has a reason for being here." Abigail thought for a moment. "Something private. Personal, maybe."

  "Everyone who comes to Inspiration has a reason for being here," Sophie suggested.

  "I know, Sophie," Abigail said. She peered across at Lydia. Resolve stirred in Abigail. Something important had to be said. "And I think we should perhaps leave Mr MacKendrick to get on with his business. Without too much talk of marriage."

  It was a bold statement to make, and Abigail knew making it would provoke a reaction from Lydia. And it did. "May I remind you, Abigail, the purpose of our Benevolent Society. It is to make Inspiration the best town in this territory. And that means, not only do we try to help those in need. But, it also means we have to ensure every newcomer to our town feels as much a part of this place as possible. Mr MacKendrick should be given the same opportunities to fit in as anyone else who comes to live here."