She Was Sitting Alone at the Auction, the Cowboy Said, “She’s Coming Home With Me”

Chapter 3

Reading her silence, Elias spoke again. “The folks at Meadowlark are good people, Miss Hartley. Most of them have known hardship of one kind or another. No one will pry into your business.”

“I appreciate that.”

They rolled into the yard as lanterns threw warm rectangles of light onto the packed earth. A figure emerged from the main house as Elias set the brake and jumped down. The woman who approached was tall and angular, with the same storm-gray eyes as her brother, though her hair was a rich brown instead of his sun-bleached sandy.

“You’ve returned safely,” she called, then turned her gaze to Rose. “And this must be Miss Hartley.”

“Miss Hartley, my sister, Mabel Wainwright,” Elias said, offering Rose his hand to help her down.

Rose straightened her travel-worn dress as best she could and extended her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Wainwright. Thank you for opening your home to me.”

Mabel took her hand in a firm grip. “Any friend of Elias’s is welcome at Meadowlark. And please call me Mabel — we don’t stand on ceremony here.” She looked her brother up and down with a critical eye. “You look exhausted, Elias. Go get something to eat while I show Miss Hartley to her quarters.”

“I’ll see to Clover myself,” Elias said to Rose. “Fresh hay and water before I turn in.”

“Thank you,” Rose said, grateful past words for his care of her horse.

Mabel linked her arm through Rose’s and led her to a long, low building. “That’s the women’s bunkhouse,” she explained. “Currently home to our cook, Mrs. Crane, and Minnie, who helps with the housekeeping. You’ll meet them properly in the morning.”

The bunkhouse was simple but clean — six narrow beds along the walls, only three showing signs of use. Mabel led Rose to a bed beneath a small window, where fresh linens lay waiting and an empty trunk sat ready. “The washroom is through that door. We’re quite proud of our indoor pump. It’s a luxury out here.”

Rose set her satchel on the bed. “This is more than adequate. Thank you.”

Mabel studied her for a moment. “You must be tired and hungry. Would you prefer to eat now, or rest first?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to eat something. I haven’t had much today.”

Mabel’s expression softened. “Of course. Come to the main house when you’re ready. Take your time.”

Alone, Rose opened the satchel and laid out her few possessions: two dresses besides the one she wore, undergarments, a hairbrush, a small framed photograph of her parents, and her mother’s Bible. She arranged them carefully in the trunk, smoothing her hand over the dresses to press out the worst of the wrinkles. At the pump, she washed her face and hands and pinned her hair into a neat knot, then made her way across the yard.

The kitchen was warm and enormous, dominated by a heavy wooden table where Elias sat with a plate of food. Mabel stood at the stove, ladling stew into a bowl. “Come in, Miss Hartley,” she called. “Sit down and have some of Mrs. Crane’s venison stew. It’s her specialty.”

Rose took a seat across from Elias, who acknowledged her with a nod before returning to his meal. Mabel set a steaming bowl before her along with a thick slice of bread, and Rose found herself suddenly ravenous at the rich, meaty smell.

They ate in a comfortable silence until Mabel spoke. “Elias tells me you’re skilled with horses.”

“My father bred and trained them. I helped from the time I was old enough to hold a lead rope.”

“That’s valuable knowledge,” Mabel said. “We could certainly use someone with your experience.”

Elias set down his fork. “I told Miss Hartley she’d be helping you with household matters, Mabel.”

His sister raised an eyebrow. “I think Miss Hartley should decide where her talents are best utilized, don’t you?”

Rose looked between them, sensing an undercurrent she didn’t yet understand. “I’m willing to help wherever I’m needed,” she offered diplomatically.

Elias’s expression didn’t change, but he inclined his head slightly. “We can discuss duties tomorrow. It’s been a long day for everyone.”

Back at the bunkhouse, Mabel walked with her to the door. “Don’t mind my brother. He’s protective by nature, especially of newcomers to the ranch.”

“He’s been very kind.”

“Kind, yes.” Mabel smiled. “But stubborn as a mule. If you find yourself butting heads with him, come to me. I’ve had thirty-five years of practice managing him.”

Rose lay awake that night, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the ranch settling — the lowing of cattle, the creak of the barn door, the distant nicker of a horse. For the first time since her father’s death, she wasn’t completely alone. Whether Meadowlark would become a true home remained to be seen. But for tonight she had shelter, food in her stomach, and her beloved Clover safe in a stall somewhere in the dark. She fell asleep thinking of storm-gray eyes and a deep voice that had declared she was coming home with him — and of the strange, stubborn truth that for the first night in three months, she hadn’t once checked the lock on the door.