The Rancher (19 page)

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Authors: Lily Graison

Tags: #historical romance, #cowboy, #western romance, #frontier romance, #historical western romance, #cowboy romance, #pioneer romance, #wild west romance

BOOK: The Rancher
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Her friend's eyes widened just a
fraction. "What would I be waiting for?"

 

"I don't know," Laurel said,
smiling. "You just look… well, settled in. I'm sure you have better
things to do than to sit with me while I go over lesson plans."

 

Abigail laughed nervously and
stood, grabbed her basket and said, "You're right. I do have things
to do today. Thanks for lunch!"

 

She hurried across the room,
leaving through the front door of the school and was gone in
seconds. Laurel sat staring at the door for long moments before
laughing quietly to herself and resuming her lesson plans. Not five
minutes later, Morgan Avery walked through the door. Laurel knew
something was up, then.

 

He smiled as he crossed the
room, tipping his hat to her before grabbing the chair his wife had
just vacated, turning it to sit astraddle the seat. "Afternoon," he
said, smiling.

 

Laurel nodded her head in his
direction. "Morgan. What can I do for you?"

 

"Nothing. I just thought we
could have a talk." He grinned, the smile looking a bit forced. "If
Holden has his way, we'll be related soon, so I thought we could
get to know each other better."

 

Her face heated at that. Had
Holden told his brother she'd said yes to his marriage proposal?
She hadn't told Abigail because the idea was still so new. Besides,
no date had been set, no plans made, so it all seems a bit
premature at this point. "Does your brother usually get his way?"
she asked, for lack of anything else to say.

 

Morgan chuckled. "He's an Avery.
We always get what we want."

 

Laurel smiled at that. Those
Avery's were also very sure of themselves. "It won't hurt one of
you to not get his way."

 

A blinding smile met her gaze.
"Probably not but we're not willing to find out how'd it'd feel not
to." He shifted on his seat, repositioned his hat and laid his
forearms over the back of his chair. "And Holden's waited a lot
longer than we have to find someone. He's always known he was a
family man. Even when we were younger, all he really wanted was a
wife, kids and that ranch. The rest of us were content to just
visit the saloons and live one day at a time. Holden's always been
a bit different and he's not been interested in anyone since Maggie
died. Not seriously, anyway." He smiled at her again. "Well, until
you came along." He met her gaze and held it. "He loves you,
Laurel. He'll make a good husband for you."

 

The words,
I know
, were
on the tip of her tongue but Laurel held them back. For the same
reason she hadn't told Abigail about their impending marriage, she
kept the knowledge from Morgan. She offered him a smile in response
and movement behind him caught her attention. Looking to the front
door, her heart skipped a beat. "Ethan? What are you doing
here?"

 

Morgan stood and turned toward
the door, crossing his arms over his chest. Laurel knew by his
posture he'd been waiting for this. She assumed it's also why she'd
had constant company since Holden had dropped her off at the
school. He was having her… babysat like an infant. Her temper
flared but she let it go and stood.

 

Ethan was again dressed in a
suit, dark gray this time. His shoes had a shine on them she could
see from across the room. He was also carrying another bouquet of
flowers. He removed his hat, tipped his head in her direction and
said, "Good afternoon, Laurel." His gaze shifted to Morgan.
"Marshal."

 

He entered the room fully,
crossed the space between them and stuck his hand out, offering her
the flowers. "These are for you, my love."

 

The smile on his face was sickly
sweet and Laurel blew out a breath of frustration. As much as she
didn't want the flowers, she reached out and took them anyway,
laying them on her desk. If accepting them was what it would take
to make him go away, then so be it. "Thank you."

 

He straightened the lapels of
his jacket, casting a quick glance to Morgan before returning his
attention back to her. "I came to ask you to lunch. I had them set
a special table for us over at the hotel."

 

Laurel's stomach was in knots by
the time he stopped talking. He was up to something. She knew him
too well not to know. "I've already had lunch."

 

"Oh." He looked disappointed but
brightened a moment later. "Supper then. I can come back," he
pulled a watch from his pocket, the gleaming gold chain winking as
the sun shining in through the window caught it, "say, around
four."

 

She opened her mouth to respond
but Morgan spoke before she had a chance. "She's already accepted
an invitation to supper at my house this evening."

 

Morgan didn't so much as glance
her way but his lie was delivered as smooth as any she'd heard. She
was amused and grateful. "That's right," she said. "I already have
plans."

 

Ethan smiled and tipped his head
toward her. "Some other time, then." Nodding to Morgan, he turned
without another word.

 

When he was out of sight, Laurel
let go of the breath she'd been holding and sank back down into her
seat. Morgan turned to look at her and frowned. "Is he always so
persistent?"

 

Laurel laughed. "Most of the
time, yes." She didn't add that he had a reason to be. That he
would inherit a fortune from her father if―and when―he married her.
Whatever business deal her father and Ethan had, it must have been
profitable for Ethan to chase her across several territories and
linger once he found her.

 

Morgan stayed for another half
hour, talking about nothing really but the moment he left, Laurel
breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing her constant stream of visitors
were just there to help fend off Ethan only served as a reminder
that he was there and the sooner she could forget about him, the
better off she was.

 

She secured the front door of
the school so no one could get in from outside and walked to her
little room in the back and did the same. She looked around the
small space she'd been calling home and sighed.

 

The little room wasn't much but
it was hers and giving it up would be hard. She'd given up so much
to find the position, to live her dream of teaching, and she'd run
away from home to be able to have it. Now, she was giving it up to
marry a man who just wouldn't take no for an answer.

 

"Maybe I'm making a mistake,"
she said to no one. She sat on the edge of her bed, her mind a
jumble of what ifs.

 

If she married Holden, she'd be
sacrificing everything she'd ever wanted. But not marrying him
meant giving up the one thing she craved. A family. Someone who
loved her. A place to call home.

 

Doubts were creeping in and the
guilt that followed caused her heart to ache. She hadn't lied when
she told Holden she loved him. She did, but what if it didn't work?
What if all the fears she had became a reality? If Holden grew
tired of her, would he stray? Find a mistress to give him what he
was no longer willing to take from her?

 

Misery settled like a stone in
her stomach and she felt sick, queasiness churning in her belly.
She gulped in air, closed her eyes and willed the feeling away.
"Everything will be fine," she told herself. Opening her eyes, she
sighed. "It has to be."

 

 

* * * *

 

 

It was after midnight when
Holden rode back into town. He didn't think he'd ever been as
saddle-sore or weary in his life. He'd had to stop nearly two hours
ago to rest the horse. The stallion was sturdy and good for long
distances but even the best horse couldn't keep walking but so
long.

 

The town was quiet when they
lumbered through the street. The noise from the saloon subdued. No
one lingered on the boardwalk and other than the lamplights shining
from the windows of the saloon, the town was dark.

 

He wanted to see Laurel but knew
she had classes come sunup. Disturbing her at this hour of night
would be unseemly but he couldn't wait. He guided his horse around
the side of the school and stopped, climbed wearily from his horse
and unhooked the parcels tied to his saddlebags.

 

There weren't any lights coming
from the one small window to her room and trying the door, he found
it bolted from the inside. He sighed, ran a weary hand over his
face and knocked. He heard the bedsprings squeak then, moments
later, her voice.

 

"Who's there?"

 

"Holden."

 

She opened the door, squinting
in the darkness to see him. "What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing," he said, smiling down
at her. Her hair was mussed, her pristine white gown swallowing the
curves he knew she had and just seeing her lifted his spirits.

 

Grabbing his arm, she pulled him
inside the room and shut the door behind him. "Where have you been
all day? Morgan said you had to go to Missoula."

 

He nodded. "I had a few things
to take care of that wouldn't wait." He held out the packages to
her, waiting for her to take them. "That's for you," he said. "And
the preacher will be here on Sunday if you still have a mind to
marry me." He held his breath, hoping she hadn't changed her
mind.

 

She smiled at him and laid the
packages on the end of the bed. "I'll probably live to regret it,
but yes, I still plan on marrying you."

 

Relief flooded his system and he
wrapped her in his arms, laid his chin on her head and just stood
there holding her.

 

"What's in the packages?" she
asked.

 

He smiled and kissed the top of
her head. "You'll see when you open them." Pulling away from her,
he cupped her cheek in one hand. "As much as it kills me to leave,
I have to go. Alex is probably beside herself since I didn't go
home after dropping you off." He kissed her, briefly, and turned to
the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

 

Once outside, he waited until he
heard her bolt the door again before crossing the space to his
horse. He climbed into the saddle, let out a weary sigh and reined
the horse toward home. Once he'd left the town proper, he raised
his arm, stuck his hand into his coat pocket and smiled when his
fingers grazed the small package he's stowed there. He'd spend a
good chunk of his savings on it but come spring, when the new colts
were born, he'd make the money he'd spent back and then some.
Besides, it wasn't everyday one found a woman like Laurel and to
him, seeing her happy was worth every penny he had.

 

 

* * * *

 

 

Despite the fact she had classes
in the morning, the packages Holden dropped off were too intriguing
to not open. Laurel lit a lamp and sat down on the bed, pulling the
string holding the smallest wrapped parcel open. Yards of
snow-white lace spilled from the brown wrapping. She lifted it,
took in the detail in the design and was grinning in an
instant.

 

She laid the lace aside, reached
for the remaining package, a large bundle tied with two separate
strings and wasted no time unwrapping the treasure. What she found
laying inside took her breath.

 

Standing, she grabbed the dress
at the shoulders and held it up, a billow of white satin and lace
flowing to the floor. Her eyes burned as she looked at it. Holden
had gone all the way to Missoula to buy her a dress?

 

Tears clouded her eyes at the
thought. She hadn't even considered what she'd wear to marry him,
the idea was still so fresh on her mind, but he'd taken the burden
away from her. He'd delivered a white wedding gown Queen Victoria
herself would envy.

 

She laughed suddenly, hugging
the dress to her and gazing down at the bed where she'd laid the
yard of lace. She noticed something in the bottom of the package
the dress had came from and reached for it, more laughter bubbling
forth when she picked up the small, silk slippers tucked into the
folds of the wrapping. He'd thought of everything.

 

Wiping her face dry, she stored
the dress, the slippers and the lace in the wardrobe, folded the
wrapping paper and put it away, along with the twine and
extinguished the lamp. She lay staring at the ceiling, knowing
she'd never be able to sleep. By weeks end she'd be married. To a
man too wonderful to be true.

Chapter Thirteen

 

 

 

The following Sunday morning,
the sky was laden with slate-gray clouds and a chill wind blew in
from the mountains. Laurel stood in the small room behind the
schoolhouse with nervous butterflies swimming in her stomach.

 

The week had passed in a blur of
events that had Laurel ready to just throw up her hands, hop on the
first stagecoach out of town, and get as far away as she could.
Between the endless stream of visits from Ethan―who seemed in no
short supply of gifts, his idea of courting her, she supposed―she
was at her wits end. Ethan's visits put her on edge especially
after the local gossip about her impending marriage to Holden
reached him. Ethan tried to persuade her to marry him, going so far
as to produce a ring, and resorted to threats when she refused.

 

A classroom full of rowdy
children didn't help matters either. Not to mention, Alexandra, the
child she would soon call a daughter, had become withdrawn. She sat
in class with her head down, never spoke unless she was asked a
specific question and Laurel was worried on so many levels, the
stress was sure to kill her at any moment. Holden hadn't been able
to calm her fears any either. All the man ever said was, "It'll all
be fine. Just wait and see."

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