Rancher To The Rescue

Noah listened patiently. Clare was good at reading maps, he’d learned since she’d started working for him six months ago. She must have excelled at geography in college to know the port city of St John’s in England’s Newfoundland was the closest North American port to Europe. Some of the steamships must stop there before beginning their transatlantic voyages.

“The doctor said that breathing the sea air would do her good, so they wanted to leave from New York City, but I wonder if it might have made a difference if they’d left by one of those other ports.”

“What do you mean?”

She rose and walked to the long table against a far wall. There, she picked up several pamphlets. “I was tidying up today and found these. They have information on the different steamships and their ports of call. Perhaps if they’d taken one of the other lines, they might have arrived safely. These ships are newer.”

“Why didn’t they take one of them?”

“Mother gets nauseated on trains, so they went only as far as New York City and took Governor. It has the longest sea voyage. Honestly, I cannot see how breathing damp sea air is supposed to help arthritis, but I’m not a doctor.” Sighing, she set down the pamphlets again. “Governor is the oldest ship and also the most expensive, which I realize now was not good for the family finances. Although Father didn’t mind spending money.” She looked up at him, her expression resigned. “He could be a bit cavalier about that, I’m afraid.”

Noah cleared his throat. “Speaking of finances...today, you received a letter from the bank.” He’d seen the bank’s errand boy deliver it. He’d caught Clare’s sinking expression as she read the single page. But shortly after, that awful telegram had arrived, and he’d forgotten all about the letter.

Clare looked away. “I’m sure you can guess what the bank said. Father paid all the bills for March, but that’s it. His payments were always due the first banking day of the month.” She rubbed her forehead and groaned. “Let me think. Father paid March’s mortgage before they left six weeks ago. So April’s payment is now two weeks overdue.”

“Did he leave you access to his accounts?”

With lifted brows, Clare shook her head. “There was no need. They’re empty.”

Noah cocked his head, a frown deepening. “I don’t understand. Your father paid March’s mortgage at the beginning of the month, but didn’t expect to be in Europe until the end of the month. Surely, he would have realized that it would take a month to get the money back to you? That would automatically leave you a month behind in your payments, and yet he emptied his account, anyway?”

Clare looked like she was getting a headache. “He was afraid Mother would need extra time to recuperate from either the train ride or the sea voyage. He wasn’t sure she’d be able to travel to Baden-Baden—that’s where the Kurhaus is—right away. The transatlantic trip is said to be awful, and once in Liverpool, they’d need another short steamship voyage to Rotterdam before going upriver to the Rhine. He said he planned to send back enough money to pay the bills. I had assumed he’d paid at least two months, but I hadn’t asked.”

Clare flicked up her hands. “My father didn’t always consider the finances first. He often said that there would always be bills.”

Except it was irresponsible to make those bills worse, Noah grumbled internally. It might be wrong to condemn Clare’s father, and Noah did know of Mrs. Walsh’s ill health, but he didn’t feel like crushing the uncharitable thoughts rising unbidden in him. “There are more in his family than his wife.”

His clipped words cut crisply through the cool air. Yes, that was true, he decided firmly. And yes, there was more to life than earning money.

Noah tightened his jaw. People needed to look past their own needs to the needs of others. People needed—

He shut his eyes and stopped his thoughts. This wasn’t about his family. This was about Clare Walsh, the lovely, vibrant, independent woman in front of him. It was about what was probably the worst day of her life.

Would it be inappropriate to draw her into his arms? Surely if anyone needed to be comforted right now, it was her.

Yes, it was inappropriate, and a woman like Clare would resent the belief that she needed a good, strong hug right now.

“The plan had been to return whatever money they didn’t need,” Clare was saying. “They had expected to stay for the summer in Germany, but hoped her treatment would take less time. I don’t think he even cared that the mortgage would be a month late. My father often thought that there was no point in worrying about money.” She sank into her chair again. “I guess he didn’t worry about not surviving the first leg of the voyage, either.” An angry glance up at Noah told him that tears glistened again in Clare’s eyes.

Immediately, Noah dragged a chair closer to her. He perched on the edge of the rounded and uncomfortable seat, his knees poking up into the air. He really hated these fussy, overstuffed things. “Clare, we don’t know what has happened yet.” He rubbed her upper arm, then dropped it quickly, afraid the touch was too personal. “Did you explain that to the bank manager?”

Looking resigned, she shook her head. “All I did was make an appointment. I can hardly ask them to wait until proof comes of my parents’ deaths. That may never happen. The manager may give me an extension, but that will come with a penalty. My wages won’t cover even the basic mortgage payment, let alone one with a late fee attached. And what about the other bills, such as food and coal? Where would the money come for them?” She sighed in exasperation. “You see, I can’t afford to take time off to sort out my parents’ affairs. That would leave us with no money.”

Outrage bubbled through him and he struggled to quell it. Her shortsighted father had left her in a bind that no woman should be in. “When is your appointment?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll be speaking with the manager. Maybe before I go there, I’ll have some better answers.”

To what questions? Noah doubted proof of her parents’ condition one way or the other would come in the next twenty-four hours. Or the money she needed, for that matter. Again, resentment bit at him with a ferocity that had up to now been reserved for his own parents’ manipulation.

No, this isn’t about them. You’ve left them behind, them and that lie you’ve agreed to be a part of.

Focus on Clare.

“Clare, let—” He had just begun to speak when the front door opened and juvenile screams tore through the house.

Clare’s brothers were home.

Noah felt his eyes widen as they barreled into the parlor. The boys were in a terrible state, their clothes muddied and ripped, their faces smeared with dirt. They skidded to a stop when they spied him rising to his feet.

Clare also stood, although her movements were slower, far more careful. She blinked and swallowed and Noah wondered if she was going to blurt out what she’d learned about their parents. Surely, Tim and Leo, suddenly looking younger than their nine and seven years respectively, could not fully understand what had happened. Yes, they’d understand if their parents had died, but not something as tenuous as being overdue at their first port of call. That they could be lost at sea. Children tended to see in more clear-cut ways than adults did.

Noah held his breath, all the while watching Clare, praying she’d say nothing. At least for now.

Eyebrows raised, her eyes shutting for a long moment, Clare sat down again before asking quietly, “Why are you two home early?”

The older boy, Tim, stared at his scuffed and muddied shoes. “At lunch, we went outside and down to the river. There’s a part where a spring comes right through the bank. It’s all muddy.”

“And why did you go there?”

“So we could smear mud on our faces to scare Mary Pemberton. She sits by the window ’cuz she isn’t allowed to go outside and get her dress dirty.”

“She’s a scaredy-cat and told Miss Thompson on us,” Leo added.

“Enough of that,” Clare scolded. “She reported only the truth and should not be criticized for doing the right thing.”

Tim shrugged. “We weren’t allowed back in school unless we came home and changed.”

The younger boy hastily wiped mud off his cheeks with his sleeve. It had dried and now fell in flakes to the carpet. He then wiped his hand on his torn pants and more mud fluttered down.

From some distant recess of the house, the clock struck the half hour. “It’s two thirty,” Noah commented. “How long is your lunch break, boys?”

“And how did your clothes get ripped?” Clare asked quietly.

Tim’s gaze dropped to his filthy shoes. “We climbed a tree down at the river. One of the branches goes right out over the water without touching the mud.”

“So we could clean ourselves off without coming home.” Leo finished his brother’s explanation, as if their unorthodox ablutions were perfectly normal. “But Miss Thompson told us to!”

Tim nodded. “We thought it would be better that way.”

“In case someone saw you and reported it to me, you mean?”

The boys looked confused. Noah wondered if they were even capable of such subterfuge, or they actually thought it would be easier that way.

“But we fell into the mud,” Tim answered. Being the older brother, he knew that they’d done wrong, whereas Leo didn’t. Or else Leo was ignoring the obvious.

“I’m hungry,” Leo announced, oblivious of his brother’s contrition. “You didn’t give us enough food for lunch. And it’s cold in here.”

Noah glanced at Clare in time to see her shut her eyes again. A crimson stain crept up her neck. What was she going to do? They needed discipline. Guidance. They also needed to learn there were consequences to their actions.

“Go upstairs and change,” Clare said wearily. After a slight hesitation, she added, “Supper will be a bit late, but I want you to clean yourselves up first, anyway. Just don’t make a mess upstairs, but bring down those filthy clothes when you’re done. I’ll have to mend and wash them before school tomorrow. Let’s hope they dry in time.”

For a long moment, the boys merely stared at her, as if sensing something was off. Then, after a nudge from the older brother as he turned to leave the parlor, the younger one followed.

When Leo had closed the door behind him, Clare sagged.

Noah laid his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t tell them yet.”

“I can’t, not without crying my eyes out. They won’t understand what it means to be lost at sea, anyway. They don’t realize how big the Atlantic is.” She sank back into the chair again. “Look at them.” She threw up her hand before smacking it against her chest. “Look at me! I can’t even discipline my own brothers.”

“They’re not dogs that need immediate correction. You can do it later tonight. They’ll know why.”

Clare shook her head. “It won’t be fair. I learned in college that children’s misbehaviour is simply an expression of another emotion, in this case, missing our parents. Tim and Leo need time to fully work out how they’re feeling about Mother and Father being gone.”

Lifting his eyebrows, Noah tightened his jaw to stop from contradicting her. He’d seen those boys around town even before their parents left. He’d heard Tim and Leo from within the confines of the Recording Office, too, before the school bell rang. He shouldn’t ask, but the question slipped from his mouth. “How is missing your parents getting converted into obvious mischief?”

She pulled from her apron pocket that crumpled handkerchief and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “They began to act up when our parents started to prepare to go to Europe. I think they were scared. Misbehaving would bring our parents’ attention back to them, and thus reassure them that they’re still loved. In their minds, if Mother and Father left, it would be because they didn’t love us anymore. It’s all quite understandable when you consider how we treat our children in today’s world.”

Noah had no desire to be drawn into something he knew nothing about, but he couldn’t help pointing out, “They misbehaved long before your parents left. Plus, it’s been weeks since they left and children adapt easily. What explains their disobedience today?”

“Me. I’m the one whose love they’re afraid to lose now. They think I’ll leave next.” She looked up at Noah with another bleak expression. “It’s all well-documented psychology. But that doesn’t matter right now. Think about today. How can I tell them that our mother and father aren’t ever coming home again when they’re grieving their temporary absence?”

Noah didn’t know if he agreed with this modern parenting nonsense. It sounded more like lack of discipline and flimsy excuses. But he wasn’t there to argue with her. He needed to tread carefully. Clare deserved that much. “A little bit of understanding is always a good thing.”

He felt his mouth tighten. Understanding. He’d had little of that from his parents.

Stiff-necked, his parents, mostly his father, had watched Noah leave them, not the other way around. They had gladly opened the door for him, too. Did they ever grieve for him? He’d certainly grieved that they’d refused to accept any wishes apart from their own. They’d refused to accept that Noah had his own dreams that didn’t fit into their plans for his life. His father’s plans, supported by his mother, who wanted only to maintain peace in her family.

They’d forced him into a situation that became a secret no one should have to keep, he added to himself bitterly.

Forget it. It was two years ago. Concentrate on the here and now. Clare needs help. She couldn’t yet deal with telling her brothers about their parents, not while she was reeling from the shock and certainly not while trying to figure out how she was going to keep their home.

Noah’s jaw clenched. He wanted nothing more than to help her. But how? Offer advice? She deserved her dignity, and wouldn’t appreciate him telling her what to do.

Clare, you need to let go of that pride.

He straightened. She also needed help and he wanted to be the one who offered it first. “Can you rent out part of your home?”

“To whom? Women usually stay with families. That would leave only men. Would you like me to board single men to earn extra money?” She rolled her eyes as she brushed an unruly tendril of hair from her forehead. It fell back into its vacated place once again, determined to misbehave. “Can you imagine my reputation then? Would that do the Recording Office any good? Or my job, for that matter? If the people of Proud Bend believed I was acting immorally, they’d demand you fire me immediately.”

The idea of Clare opening her home to single men sparked a stinging moment in him. A jealous moment that had nothing to do with their office’s reputation. “Surely some women need a place to stay?”

“The only single women of any decent reputation live at home or with a selected family.”

A thump from upstairs drew his attention to the ceiling. He could hear the boys banging around and wondered what possible mischief they were getting into.

He looked back at her as she wrung her handkerchief. “And if you can’t pay the mortgage?” he asked.

Another bang from upstairs. Clare shot her gaze upward as her mouth tightened. “We both know what’s going to happen. I’ll lose this house. It’s the only home I’ve ever known. I could find a room somewhere, yes, but no one will take me with those rambunctious boys.” She sighed. “I appreciate your concern, Noah, but you needn’t worry. This is my problem and I will solve it.”

With a heavy heart, Noah knew right then what Tim and Leo’s lives would be. They’d be sent to different ranches or hired by some unscrupulous mine owner to work underground. Orphanages were rare in the West because there was always menial work for the few boys out here, be it on ranches, in mines or on the railroad. If that happened, they’d grow up seeing neither Clare nor the other brother. And with their record of mischief, their discipline would be harsh. The bleak look on Clare’s face told him she already knew that fact and it cut her to the quick.

Noah shut his eyes, hating to look at her expression. A surge of anger rose within him at the notion of this family being ripped apart.

Compassion flooded in, wringing out the ire and banding his chest. He wanted to grab her, hold her tight to fend off the bleakness of her situation.

Instead, though, he opened his eyes again and the most unexpected words tumbled from his mouth.

“Marry me, Clare.”

Chapter Two

Noah stifled a gasp. Thankfully, he had enough forethought not to race from the house and thus insult the woman he’d just proposed to. But that didn’t stop him from clamping shut his mouth as he stared, aghast, at Clare.

It wasn’t as though he was opposed to marriage. No, he simply hated the idea of marrying to appease a situation of someone else’s making. To subjugate a person so as to benefit another, as his father had tried to subjugate him.

But he wasn’t naive. He realized that for centuries marriages had been proposed with financial gain in mind. He just didn’t want to be a party to one, especially the one he’d flatly refused two years ago. Greed, his father’s mainly, had birthed the idea that Noah, as his eldest son, should marry a woman whose family business could be merged with the Livingstone’s. The other family involved would get a secure future for their only child, a young woman whose sole purpose in life appeared to be to remain in the lifestyle to which she’d become accustomed.

And, of course, Noah’s father would continue to rule all their lives how he saw fit, all the while expanding his wealth and power.

No. Marriage for someone else’s convenience was more than distasteful to him.

Resentment tightened Noah’s chest as he stared at Clare. He’d told himself years ago that he would not bow to his father’s wishes. He would marry only because he loved the woman and thanks to the scarcity of decent women in Colorado, marriage was unlikely to happen.

Noah paused. Had that been an unconscious reason for choosing to go west?

No. For as long as he could remember, he’d nursed a dream of building a special type of ranch in Colorado, one fed by the offer of free land if he worked it and filled it with livestock. In his case, horses and pack animals. They were as necessary as the railroad, yet many had been discarded, especially after the war, or left to turn feral and compete with cattle for water and food. As a result, ranchers who wanted no animals, save their own valuable cattle, to use their precious grass and water supplies rounded them up to sell or sometimes, if the horses got too close, they would shoot them. Abandoned horses and ponies didn’t provide the income that cattle could.

He had often thought of creating a program to relocate these magnificent beasts, away from the competition for food and water.

But for others that were caught, Noah knew he could rehabilitate them and other abandoned equine. The offer of free land given him would help. His job at the Recording Office would provide the funds to grow that dream. He’d even saved enough to hire a part-time ranch hand.

His father had been furious that Noah had considered pursuing this dream, even if it offered a chance to become a Recording Officer, the youngest in the state. Eventually the promise of the job had been fulfilled and he had his dream ranch as well as a prestigious position.

But in his father’s mind, if Noah wasn’t going to do his bidding, the fool son could leave and never return.

That had been two years ago, and the angry, unfair threat still stung, just as the Walshes’ choice now stung Clare.

Was that why he’d blurted out that idiot proposal?

No. The idea of defying his father, even if the man wasn’t around, wasn’t his main reason to propose. He’d realized Clare was in very real danger of losing her family. And the boys, having just lost their parents, were in danger of being torn from everything they had ever known. Noah had proposed to help her fix her situation.

But it had been a foolish offer and Clare’s expression right now proved she agreed with that assessment. She knew nothing of his reasons, nor was he going to explain it to her. It was just that she hadn’t considered seeking a husband, either.

From upstairs, another series of bangs and thumps drew Noah back to the present. Clare’s brothers were definitely up to no good. Oh, yes, she needed a fast solution to her very serious problem.

His answer had been to offer her marriage. And he—

“No.”

He frowned at Clare. “What did you say?”

Her shoulders were pushed back, her jaw firmed and she snapped yet again, “I said no. No, I won’t marry you.”

* * *

Clare hadn’t expected to blurt out the first answer in her mind, at least not with such force. But it reflected how she felt.

“Did you just turn me down?” His brows knitted together, as if he’d misunderstood her. “Why?”

She bristled. Did he not know anything about her by now? They’d been working together for six months. During that time, he’d heard her say more than once that she was never going to marry, but rather work hard and prove that women could be a valuable asset to any organization. They might even run that organization someday. If that had to come at the cost of staying single, so be it, for marriage was a prison sentence to a woman. It had turned out that way for far too many of her friends. Hadn’t Noah also heard her announce that fact on more than one occasion?

Irritation continued to bubble through her. He apparently hadn’t listened to her at all. And what’s more, he looked genuinely surprised that she wasn’t groveling with gratitude. She lifted her brows and shut her eyes in one long, slow blink. “You heard me correctly. I don’t know how to say it any more clearly.”

Silence fell like a stone between them. Noah finally shut his gaping mouth, only to open it and speak again, this time slowly and calmly. “Your brothers need stability right now. They need a father figure.”

“They have a father. Even you thought it was premature to assume he’s lost at sea. Any number of things could have happened. My brothers and I have a father and he will be returning. Isn’t that the attitude you wanted me to adopt?”

Despite her haughty logic, she swallowed. Her answer wasn’t the main reason for her refusal. She was certainly not denying the obvious, that her parents could be gone, but with the irritation still simmering within, she couldn’t help but contradict him with his own words. No, the point was that he hadn’t bothered to listen to her. Over these past few months, he hadn’t paid her words the slightest attention. She didn’t go to college and return to her hometown to give up all her dreams at the first faltering. Clare Walsh had a sterner constitution than that.

Noah’s jaw tightened and his brows pressed together. “And if your parents don’t come home?”

Clare flinched but refused to waver. “I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” She cleared her throat, knowing it sounded like she was denying the obvious possibility, but she wasn’t. She was simply being strong when she needed to be. “I don’t need anyone, thank you very much. I can handle this situation as well as any man.”

“We’re not discussing the virtues of your gender, Clare, just your ability to keep going in your current state. You’re not going to make it.”

She flared up. “I can and I will. I’ve already told you I can solve my own problems.”

A deep crease forming between his brows—those perfectly shaped ones, Clare noted—Noah leaned forward, closer to her. “You don’t need to do this alone, Clare,” he said softly.

Temptation tugged at her, and she battled it back with tight words. “Are you just saying that to ensure you have a good employee who’s ready to work?”

Clare watched as hurt flickered over his features. It was quick, and disappeared as quickly as it appeared. But in its wake was a tight jaw with narrowing eyes. They were also brief as he schooled his expression. “Clare, I have only your best interests at heart here. Nothing more.”