Cheyenne Mail Order Bride (Mail Order Brides Book 13) Read Online Free Page B

looking for, Jennie,” he said grinning.
    “I have a letter?” she asked.
    “No,” he said.
    “Oh,” in a disappointed voice.
    “You have two letters,” he said.
    “Two? I have two letters? You’re not funning me are you, Mr. Sam?”
    “No, I’m not funning you. Hold on, I’ll get them for you,” he said, and walked over to the part of his store that was the post office. “Here you are,” a nd handed her the two envelopes.
    As before, there was no return address on either of them, “Aren’t you going to open them?” he asked.
    “No, I’m going to wait until I get home,” she answered.
    Back at the farm, she unhitched the mule and led him to his stall. She drew a bucket of water for him, and pitched some hay into the stall.
    “I thought I heard you come up,” Chris’s voice came from behind her. “Mama, I told you, I’ll take care of the mule. You don’t need to bother with it.”
    “You do enough around here. You look worn out as it is. Did you have lunch?”
    “I had some biscuits and fatback left over from breakfast,” he said.
    “Now you know that is no kind of lunch for a working man. I’ll fix a big , early supper for you.
    “What did you do today?” she asked.
    “I spent most of the day checking the cotton for weevils and worms,” he said.
    “Did we have any?”
    “No, not yet. Maybe we’ll stay lucky. We’ll be in good shape if we get a little rain,” he said.
    Listen to him. He’s working as hard as any man. He’s a born farmer. You still have the seed bag we use to dust, don’t you?”
    “Yes ma’am.”
    “Do we need to get any poison to dust?”
    “I still have some left from last year,” he said.
    “Well, let me know,” she said. “I’m going to lie down for a bit,” she said. “You need to take a break too,” she said.
    “I’m fine, Mama.”
    “Well, I’ll make some lemonade anyway. You come in and get something to drink and sit a spell.”
    “Yes ma’am.”
    After making the lemonade, she poured herself a glass, and went into her bedroom to read her two letters.
    She opened the first letter.
    Dear Number 4694, I have seen your ad in The Matrimonial News, and I find it of interest. I am thirty seven years old, and a widower for the past two years. My wife passed and left me with three girls, ten, thirteen and fifteen years old. I have a steady job as a driver for a mining company that provides for me and my girls. They are in need of a firm hand and female guidance. I would like to correspond with you. My number is 4084. I look forward to hearing from you.
    She laid the letter down, while she thought about it. This doesn’t look to be written by a man. I wonder if he knows how to write. It sounds like he’s looking for someone to ride herd on his girls. I don’t think I could be happy with someone who has no education.
    She opened the other letter. It began in much the same manner.
    Dear number 4694 …

 
    chapter seven
    Cal’s Decision
    The Circle CP ranch prospered under the capable ma nagement of Clay Terwilliger. Cal had increased his holdings to over 30,000 acres. His herd now numbered over five thousand at any given time. He provided beef to the army, and the miners. Some of his cattle were being shipped to the slaughter houses back East.
    He should have been a contented man. He wasn’t. He was lonely. His ranch hands numbered twenty, he had a housekeeper, but something was missing.
    Cal had begun attending the First Methodist Church while he was living at the Frontier Hotel. A generous donor, he had developed a friendship with the pastor, Clem Hutchison. One Sunday, Clem sought him out after services. “How are you Cal?’, Clem asked.
    “I suppose I’m doing pretty well,” Cal said. “It seems to be lonelier than usual, these days, but I’ll get over it.”
    “By the way, I want to tell you how much we appreciated your generous donation toward our new addition,” the pastor said.
    “Thank you, Clem. Church attendance was one of