A Rancher for Rosie Read online

  She helped Catherine to lie back then rubbed her hands together. In spite of the perspiration on her brow and the damp beneath her armpits, Rosie’s hands were freezing.

  She placed her left knee on the bed and reached out for the hem of Catherine’s shift. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, preparing to conduct an examination, the like of which she had only seen carried out on a horse, when she heard a shout from outside.

  She jumped from the bed. She glanced at Catherine. Then at the open doorway.

  Thank goodness!

  Someone had come home. She smoothed out her skirts and tucked her hair back into its bun.

  “I’ll check who it is, Catherine. Stay as still as you can. Help is on the way.”

  Rosie rushed from the room and out through the homestead, her heart thudding. Was it Kenan and Joshua? Had they come home just in time? Or was it Matthew returned from town with help?

  She opened the door, a greeting of joy poised on her lips, then she let out a sigh of despair as she saw who had just arrived.

  Chapter Two

  Mr. Hampton tethered his horse to the rail in front of the porch then loped toward the house. Though his strides were tempered by his old injury, he exuded the easy confidence of a man of means.

  Rosie’s stomach somersaulted, and she battled the urge to slam the door and rush back into the house. She knew that Joshua’s father wasn’t pleased about the attention his son paid her, and she could understand why. At thirty-two, she was seven years older than the handsome cowboy. Joshua came from a well-to-do home, Mr. Hampton having created a prosperous cattle driving business, and they lived on an enormous ranch which he’d built from scratch. Rosie, however, lived at a modest homestead which had been built by her Irish father and was now the property of her twin brother, the eldest son. She had nothing to offer Joshua or his family.

  Except for my love.

  And when was that ever going to seem like enough to a businessman like Mr. Hampton?

  He climbed the steps to the porch and approached her.

  “Evening, Miss Duggan.” He briefly lifted his Stetson in greeting. The shadow from the porch and the light behind him meant that Rosie was unable to see his eyes. It unnerved her.

  “Evening, Mr. Hampton. Is everything all right?” Panic seized her as she wondered if something had happened to Kenan or Joshua. Had he come to tell her that they’d been hurt, or worse? The cattle trail could be a dangerous place, even for fit young men like her twin brother and Joshua.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He rubbed his chin with a large hand on which the blue veins stood out like bark on a tree trunk. Rosie noted that it trembled slightly. “I’ve not come to you with bad news. Well…at least I don’t think it’s bad news.”

  “Oh.” She dug her fingernails into her palms. What did he want then? He’d never come out to the homestead before, and she hadn’t ever spoken to him alone. If she was completely honest, he made her feel uneasy and self-conscious—on edge. It was a real shame, because she would have liked to feel a connection to the father of the man she adored, had hoped that he might see why Joshua held her in high esteem. But that reassurance seemed to elude her and it made her sad. She mentally shook herself. There was no point worrying over things she couldn’t change, especially when Catherine was laboring away inside. She couldn’t bear to be out here when her sister-in-law needed her.

  “Listen, Miss Duggan, I’m not gonna string this out any more than I have to. I needed to straighten a few things up. You’re a comely wench and all that…” He motioned at her figure, taking her in with a wave of his hand that moved from her head to her feet. It made her feel like a heifer being sized up for breeding. “But we both know that you’re not a good long-term prospect for my son.”

  Rosie’s palms instantly dampened, and she wiped them on her apron. “I…I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”

  Mr. Hampton shifted then removed his hat. Rosie met eyes that had once clearly been as bright blue as Joshua’s, but were now milky and diluted. What was it that stole their color and made them so hazy? Dylan Hampton was a handsome man, he was strong and broad-shouldered, in spite of his advancing years. But today, Rosie sensed a change in him, as if he was trying to maintain the façade of strength. As if he was refusing to give in to some physical ailment which plagued him.

  “Now, now, Miss Duggan. I’m sure that you do. I know from what Joshua has said about you that you’re no idiot.”

  No idiot! What?

  Rosie bit her lip. Had he come here to provoke her then? To rouse her to indignation? And to what end?

  “Mr. Hampton, much as I’d like to chew the fat with you, I can’t be hanging around here all day. My sister-in-law is inside…in labor…and she needs me.”

  “You’re alone?” He frowned.

  Rosie inclined her head. “Matthew has gone into town to fetch help.”

  Mr. Hampton paused. “Well, I wish that sister-in-law of yours the best of luck. She’ll need it, no doubt.” His upper lip curled slightly as if with distaste.

  Rosie bridled at his remark. So Dylan Hampton was still holding on to the image of Catherine as a harlot. His prejudice made her toes curl, but then he wasn’t much different from most other folks. After Catherine’s arrival, it had taken a while for the rumors and the disdain to blow over. Yet here was the father of the man she loved, raking over old horse shit. Well, she’d be damned if she was going to stand here and listen to him.

  “Well, goodbye, Mr. Hampton.”

  “Now wait a second, miss!” The harshness of his tone froze Rosie to the spot. “I’ve not finished what I came here to say.”

  “Then do so quickly, please, sir, as I need to be getting inside.”

  “To put it bluntly then… I want you to have no more to do with my son. Ya see, I think that this nonsense between you and Joshua has been going on long enough. It’s time to put a stop to it. You have no place in his life and no welcome at our home. You’re past your…your prime and he needs a young, healthy wife with a more suitable background. If you don’t pay heed and you continue to encourage Joshua, then he may just end up disinherited.”

  The porch seemed to sway beneath Rosie’s feet and she grasped at the post beside her. So Dylan Hampton had finally decided to put an end to her relationship with Joshua. She had been surprised that it hadn’t happened before and had been lulled into a false sense of security by Mr. Hampton’s lack of interference and Joshua’s sweet attention. But now here it was, cold and harsh as winter winds.

  How could I do that to him?

  “I…I’m not sure…” Quite how to respond… Emotion welled in her throat and choked her. It was all she could do to suck in small, desperate breaths.

  “Well, then. I’ve said what I came to say, so I’ll be off.” Dylan Hampton stared at her for a moment and she shook under his gaze. He lifted a hand as if to reach out to her then looked at it and dropped it to his side.

  He stepped off the porch and untied his horse. Before mounting the beast, he paused and turned back to Rosie. “Miss Duggan, I don’t mean to cause pain. Ya seem like a nice enough woman, but I just want more for Joshua. The best for my boy. You can understand that, surely?”

  Of course she could understand that. Of course. Surely that what was every good parent wanted for their children…the best.

  As Dylan Hampton settled into his saddle, pausing for a moment to adjust his gun belt, Rosie blinked away the stinging tears then turned and staggered back into the house, banishing the vision of the man who had just broken her heart.

  Rosie shut the door behind her and leaned on it heavily, gasping for breath. Her chest hurt and she felt sure that she’d vomit. All of her hopes and dreams had just been crushed, and the future she had dared to envisage had been ripped away.

  She could never marry Joshua. Never. Though she had, if she reached down into herself and dragged her deepest thoughts and feelings to the surface, never really believed that it would come to pass. Why would any man, let alone a han
dsome rancher’s son, want to wed an old maid like her when he could choose any young female in the county? Joshua had prospects. Rosie had none.

  “Rosie!”

  Poor Catherine. Where on earth is Matthew?

  She flung the door open and lurched onto the porch. She could make out Dylan Hampton riding away and someone approaching.

  Two horses. Two figures. Their silhouettes were black against the horizon.

  She squinted, but the dust kicked up by the horses made it impossible to see who it was. At least someone was on the way. She just hoped it was Matthew with help.

  Rosie had barely begun to smooth Catherine’s hair from her fevered brow when she heard feet on the porch and an agitated man’s voice followed by a softer, calmer one. Was that a woman? Footsteps moved through the house and she looked up as Matthew filled the doorway.

  “Oh, thank goodness! She’s near the end and I’ve been so worried about trying to deliver the babe.” Rosie’s words of relief flooded the room and it was all she could do to maintain a hold on her emotions.

  Matthew smiled as he stood aside and a young woman stepped past him. Rosie bit her lip and swallowed a gasp. The young woman he had brought to help Catherine was clearly of mixed race. She wore a plain navy blue housedress with her sleek black hair gathered into a knot at the nape of her neck. Her skin was clear and smooth and the color of coffee with cream. She was a combination of two worlds, a reminder of what had been and how it had changed because of the overbearing presence of the white man. And, she was one of the most beautiful young women that Rosie had ever seen.

  The woman approached the bed and gestured at Catherine. “May I?” She kept her eyes lowered as if afraid of being presumptuous.

  Rosie glanced at Catherine. “Yes, of course. Please do.”

  Rosie moved to Matthew’s side. She frowned at him.

  He shrugged. “What’s wrong, Rosie?” he whispered, his eyes fixed on the face of the midwife.

  “She’s so young… I was expecting you to bring a…a whore. Someone older and more experienced.”

  Matthew threw her a curious glance. “She was recommended. It took me so long to get back because she was tending to another woman in town, so I had to wait until she was done. She’s a Sioux midwife. No children herself apparently, but skilled in delivery and knowledgeable about female ailments, according to the woman she was working for.”

  “Working for?” Rosie queried.

  “As a maid. Her employer said that she’s reliable and quiet. No trouble. Just a good worker. She has helped deliver many babes in town and is in demand. Catherine’s lucky to have her.”

  “Oh.” It seemed that Matthew had done well. “Good.” Rosie became aware that she was clenching her hands and pressed them into her skirts to still them. “Does she have a name?”

  “Huyana.”

  Rosie stared at her brother. The way that he said the woman’s name suggested admiration and respect. It tripped from his lips like a summer breeze through a willow tree. The way that he looked at her right now suggested… Oh, Matthew. He was intrigued by the maiden he’d just met. Matthew—who rarely talked of women or the future, who avoided social gatherings with a thousand excuses. He had never spoken of love or named a woman he admired. Yet here he was, clearly captivated. Rosie felt a flutter of pleasure and pride. Matthew, her younger brother, had finally seen a woman who could penetrate his cool veneer. Like Kenan, he knew his own mind and was strong and stubborn. Typical then that his woman of choice would be different—a woman whom some in society might frown upon. A beautiful Sioux maiden.

  The flutter grew and spread to create a smile upon her lips. The Duggans would love whomever they would love and that was how it should be. Scars, skin tone, age, sin. None of them mattered in the face of true love.

  “Time for you to leave.” Rosie ushered Matthew from the room. “This is no place for a man.”

  Matthew nodded, but cast Huyana one more lingering glance before going. Yes, that was certainly the look of a man falling for a woman.

  Rosie had seen it in Joshua’s eyes.

  Her heart sank.

  But now, Mr. Hampton had won. And love, in Rosie’s case, had lost.

  Chapter Three

  Rosie held Catherine’s hand as she pushed her tiny, red baby into the world. Huyana had been wonderful throughout the final stages of the birth. The midwife was calm and organized. She coaxed and soothed Catherine every step of the way, barely blinking as Catherine squealed and panted in the most guttural, animal way. The thought that she would like the young woman at her side as she gave birth herself flittered through Rosie’s mind, but it was quickly banished as she realized that she would probably never experience this female rite of passage.

  Not now. Not anymore.

  Huyana handed the baby to Rosie and she swaddled it in a clean white sheet, carefully wrapping the wriggling arms against the little body. Her hands trembled as she did so, betraying her own anxiety about hurting the new arrival.

  While Huyana tended to Catherine, cleaning her efficiently and wordlessly, Rosie handed the wide-eyed infant to its mother.

  Catherine’s eyes filled with tears as she took her baby into her arms and held it to her breast.

  “So beautiful,” she whispered reverently, and Rosie was stunned by the pang of envy that pierced her. Catherine was so lucky to have a child. She longed to hold a baby of her own, but that would never happen. She would never know the joy of nursing a little girl or boy, of gazing into a newborn’s eyes and knowing that she had created that child with the man she loved.

  “She’s perfect, Catherine.” Rosie pushed through her own pain. She would not create a cloud over Catherine’s joy. She loved her sister-in-law and believed that she deserved to be happy, especially after all that she had been through.

  “She?” Catherine giggled and kissed the tiny head with its covering of downy red hair—red like Catherine’s. Rosie wondered for a moment if it would stay that color or turn the ebony shade of Kenan’s.

  “What will you name her, Catherine?”

  The new mother shook her head. “I’m not sure. Not yet. I’ll wait for Kenan and we’ll decide together.”

  “That’s for the best,” Rosie replied. “Don’t want to fall out over a name.” She smiled, knowing that Kenan would never disagree with Catherine’s choice. He adored his wife and did everything in his power to make her happy. It would be so good to see Kenan’s reaction when he arrived home and met his new daughter.

  “Excuse me?” Huyana stood by the door with a basin full of bloodied cloths. “I will go wash these now that the lady is well.”

  “You will not!” Rosie admonished and she saw the young woman wince. What made her so anxious? She had just helped them in ways that they would never be able to fully thank her for. She had, without a doubt, saved Catherine and the little one. Rosie would have struggled to help them both through the final moments and her gratitude for all that Huyana had done swelled in her heart and threatened to burst forth in a torrent of tears and garbled words. “What I meant…Huyana…was that you have done enough here. We are so grateful for your assistance. I will wash the cloths.”

  “Oh…” Huyana lifted her big, brown eyes from the floor for a moment and Rosie saw the confusion within them. She had the air of someone who had lived her whole life subserviently, in fear, afraid of displeasing others. She was Sioux, or half-Sioux at least. Rosie had no personal experience of Indian people herself, but she had heard the stories of their ferocity and savagery. Yes, Rosie, stories. And this maiden, Huyana, evidently had a sweet, kind nature, and Rosie hated to see anyone browbeaten. “Well, would Mrs. Duggan like me to show her how to feed the child?”

  Catherine reached out a hand to Huyana and waved her toward her side. “Please. I don’t know where to start.”

  Rosie took the basin from Huyana then left them to it, her own breasts aching as she heard the baby begin to suckle and Catherine’s cooing as she was engulfed by maternal love. />
  * * * *

  Finally, as darkness fell, Rosie heard the thundering of horses’ hooves. That had to be the men.

  She opened the front door and peered into the night. Sure enough, three horses approached the perimeter fence. Two of the men jumped down from their mounts and hurried toward the house while the third one, Rosie suspected it was Emmett, took the mares over to the barn.

  Kenan reached her first.

  “Is she…is it…I’ve been so…” He leaned over his knees and gasped for breath.

  “Just get inside, you fool. Catherine is well. She’s waiting for you.”

  He obeyed and Rosie turned back to the porch.

  There he was. Dusty. Tired. Road weary. But as handsome as she remembered.

  “Joshua.” She whispered his name then sighed as he took her into his arms. She relaxed against him, allowing his strength and vitality to form their reassuring circle around her.

  “Oh, Rosie, I’ve missed you so much. Has the baby arrived? Are you all right? Each time I’m away, it gets harder, I swear.”

  You have no idea…

  “Yes, Catherine is very well. She and Kenan have a daughter. And how are you?” She pulled out of his embrace and looked at him. Even in the semi-darkness, with his face illuminated only by the light from within the house, his eyes seemed intense as the sky on a clear summer’s day. They burned into her, reaching down inside her and igniting her passion for him. But this would not do. She had to end this. She had to divorce herself from her feelings for him so that she could bid him farewell.

  She did. It was true.

  But an idea began to form. She would tell Joshua that they had no future, that he should leave and never return. But she could allow herself something before she severed their ties. Why not? If she was to experience a lifetime of suffering, an eternity of heartbreak in a cold, lonely bed, then she could give herself something first…some sweet memories to treasure for the rest of her days.