Chapter 4

Jamie POV

When I arrived in town just before noon, I headed straight to the post office to send the wire. The wire was for my Uncle Samuel who lived in Big Spring. It was time for him to join me. Beecham had begun to get sloppy with his business dealings and if we waited too long, he would do something stupid and the ranch would be lost. I stepped up to the window at the post office and smiled, “Good morning, Miss Betsy. I need to send a wire to my uncle in Big Spring. Think you can help me with that?”

She looked up at me and gave me a look that said she wasn’t falling for my tricks, “Jamie, I declare! You come into town and just assume that your good looks and those dimples are going to have the women in this town eating out of your hand and tripping over themselves to do your bidding. But let me tell you young man, I won’t fall for it!” She continued in a sing-song voice, obviously mimicking me, “Think you can help with that?! Boy, I am the post mistress! That is my job! Now give me the darn information so I can send your wire and you can go away before I get my broom after you.”

“Yes, ma’am! I was only trying to be polite. I don’t need a broom after me! I promise,” I chuckled and shook my head. Miss Betsy had been around Paris since I was just a boy running around in short pants. She was one of my dearly departed momma’s best friends. She, along with only a few other folks, knew who I truly was but had vowed to keep my identity a secret. I’m not sure if that was out of respect for my parents or because they didn’t want to see me killed. I assumed it was the former rather than the latter.

“Is this THE wire?” she asked almost in a whisper as she pulled out a piece of paper preparing to write the message for my wire.

“Yes, so if you could send it as soon as possible today, I would be much obliged,” I said with another wink. I knew that while she might verbally chastise me for my flirting ways, she was too much of a sweetheart to actually follow through.

“No problem, I will get it sent off today. Several of us are anxious about the outcome that will result with this wire”

“As am I. Too many years in the making. The wire goes to Samuel Smythe and should read simply, It’s time,” I told her, knowing that anyone who intercepted the wire or who delivered it to my uncle would have no clue as to its meaning. But I knew Uncle Samuel would understand.

Betsy nodded her head as she finished writing down the information. “And if a reply comes right away? What would you like me to do with it? Do you want it brought out to you?” she looked up at me with a questioning look.

"No, just keep the message here. I will be back in two days for supplies, as usual. Well, I am off to meet the stage. It is due in a few minutes,” I commented, then tipped my hat at her and turned to go.

“Meeting the stage? Why? Are you expecting company?” she questioned, her natural curiosity getting the better of her.

“Me, nope. Not expecting anyone. Mr. Beecham, on the other hand, his mail order bride arrives today. A Miss Wills.” I commented about to step off the boardwalk to cross the street, but turned back to Betsy with a frown on my face. “Just another reason, I need that wire sent today. An innocent person is arriving and I fear she is going to need protection from him.”

“Jamie, you are so much like both of them. Every time I see you, I remember my friends. I am here if you need anything. Justice is coming. I feel it.” Miss Betsy gave me a look of fierce determination. I knew that if her look of determination could fix this, it would have been resolved years ago. But now, it was up to me to end it. I just didn’t know how I was going to do that and to protect Miss Wills at the same time. I heard a rumble in the distance and took off toward the depot to meet the stage that was arriving at that very moment.

Getting my first look at Miss Wills was like punch in the gut. She was absolutely stunning. She was tall, not as tall as me, but taller than most women. Not many were. I stand at six feet three inches and she was several inches shorter. If I had to guess, I would say five feet ten inches. Tall for lady but just right for me. A thin but slightly rounded face covered in pale brown freckles, that disappeared if she turned full into the sunlight. Green eyes that reminded me of emeralds. Her fiery red hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. And what a neck it was! Slender, smooth and a lovely creamy color. Based on her coloring, it was apparent that while she didn’t stay in the sun for long periods of time, she wasn’t a homebody staying indoors all day either. I quickly gained my composure and got my thoughts and body under control as I reached for her and helped her down from the carriage. I had to immediately turn away from her to adjust the c*ck that had chosen that moment to rise up in my pants or she would know how very attracted to her I was. I shouldn’t be. She was Beecham’s bride. Unfortunately, I couldn’t save her from that.

The conversation on the ride to the ranch was strained. She wanted to know about Beecham and I was afraid to tell her. I didn’t know yet if I could trust her. I decided it was better to let her find out on her own than for me to share any details and accidentally give away the truth. Finally, we pulled into the ranch. I stopped right at the front porch of the main house. I jumped off the wagon and reached up to help her down. When her feet hit the ground, I didn’t immediately let go, for I enjoyed the feeling of her trim waist beneath my hands.

“Thank you, Mr. Smythe. I appreciate your service today in delivering me to my new home,” she said, trying to dismiss me. However, her body language said that she was just as affected by me as I was by her. Within minutes, Beecham came out of the house, having heard us pull up. We both turned in his direction. Although my hands dropped from her side, my eyes never left Hannah’s face. As she looked at him, I saw a flicker of confusion as her eyes darted back to mine before moving back to look at Beecham. Clearly, he was not what she was expecting. Nope, not twenty-two. She covered her surprise quite well and smiled demurely at the man who was to be her husband. For just a second, I wished she had looked at me that way.

“Miss Wills, Hannah! I am so glad you made it. I was in a meeting that I couldn’t delay. I apologize for not meeting you myself at the stage. I trust you had a pleasant journey and that Jamie didn’t bore you on the ride here,” Beecham told her, once again taking a dig at me. I didn’t even flinch, I was so used to it by now.

I responded by saying, “Sir, would you like me to carry Miss Wills’ belongings into the house?”

“No, Jamie. I will take care of those. That will be all for today, thank you” he said rather flatly as if I was a pest that was still in the way. He took Hannah’s bags in one hand and reached out to show her into the house, placing a hand on the trim waist that moments ago was under my touch. “Hannah, dear, let’s get you settled, shall we. We have much to discuss this afternoon before we consummate our marriage” His voice trailed off as he shut the door and I turned to lead the team and wagon to the barn.

In the barn, I brushed down the horses, gave them fresh oats and grabbed two apples out of the bin. Slicing the apples into sections, I gave them to the horses. They did well today. A fast trip to town and back with little rest in the scorching August heat. As I finished giving the apple to the team, Bo came in, “Hey Jamie, I had to fix the fence in the south forty. Almost the same spot as last time. This time, the posts were knocked down. Can’t tell if it was intentional or something spooked the herd and they ran into the fence.” Bo was a couple years younger than me and had grown up in town. Miss Betsy, the post mistress, was his aunt. Bo had left home at thirteen when his mother remarried a man who was abusive to Bo. Formally, his name was Beauford, but nobody called him that. Bo was tall and stout, with the body structure to rustle cattle. He knew nothing about ranching, but when Miss Betsy asked me to get him a job at the ranch, I couldn’t deny her. Beecham didn’t want to hire him because he was definitely wet behind the ears, but I was able to convince him. I was so glad that I had. Little did I know at the time, but Miss Betsy had told Bo who I was and that I needed someone I could trust to help me find the proof that I needed. Bo and I became fast friends and, over the years, he was the one person in this world that I trusted like a brother.

“Thanks, Bo. Do you think it was related to the last time?” I had a hunch that Beecham was sabotaging the herd. Money wasn’t plentiful and he spent enough on women and booze that it was almost a miracle we were operating. I was confident that he was paying someone to destroy the herd. To what end, I couldn’t figure it out.

He nodded his head but said, “I dunno. Like I said, something could’ve spooked the herd and they started to stampede but the fence line stopped them.”

“Ok. We will keep an eye on it. Maybe it was wildlife that spooked the herd. So, what else is on the agenda for today?” I responded taking his cue to not say anything out loud. The others must be nearby. Bo wouldn’t say much unless it was just the two of us. We just weren’t sure if we could trust the others, too much was riding on it.

“Do you think we will get the new plow anytime soon? It would be nice to get some planting down on the north forty, good land for growing. But nothing else for today. Tomorrow, we need to go get the young steers and bring them in to brand. Oh, by the way, was that the new Mrs. Beecham I saw going into the big house?” he wondered, glancing out of the barn. He could probably see the porch from where he stood.

“Yes, her name is Hannah. She’s a looker, for sure. Looks dainty, but if that temper of hers is any indication, she is a spit fire. I hope she is prepared for life in Texas,” I said as a worried look rose to my face. Bo turned to look at me and nodded his head as he agreed with me. Then I scoffed and continued, “Or is Texas ready for her?”

Bo chuckled and moved closer to me, “Hmmm. It’s like that, is it? Well, I am going to hit the sack early tonight, tomorrow’s gonna be a long day” he winked at me. I gave Bo a look that told him I wasn’t denying what he was insinuating. Yes, I liked her. I didn’t deny it but I couldn’t do anything about it, at least not yet. Maybe if we handled Beecham, I could make her mine.

When Beecham had first announced that he had sent for a mail order bride because it was time he had an heir, I wanted to wretch. No woman needed to be subjected to the likes of him. And I definitely did not want an heir to be born. I didn’t need to have to fight someone else for the land that was rightfully mine. Bo and I had talked while out riding the fence line a few days after the announcement and we had both agreed that no matter who she was, the new Mrs. Beecham was to be protected. Bo wasn’t going to bed early; he would make some excuse about not sleeping in his bunk and he would go stand watch near the back of the house. He was going to make sure that Beecham didn’t get rough with his new wife. Now, I know that she was technically his and some would argue that he could treat her however he wanted, but I believed that no one should abuse his wife. Even if it was only a marriage of convenience, or in this case, a mail order bride. Bo agreed with me and that is why Mrs. Beecham would be spared, as much as possible, from the evilness of her husband.

“Sounds like a good plan, Bo. You go get cleaned up. Cookie will most likely have dinner ready shortly. You can eat and then settle down for the night. I will finish up here and meet you and the boys for dinner. Thanks for your hard work today,” I slapped him on the back in gratefulness and in friendship. As Bo walked toward the bunkhouse to clean up, I nodded my head as I confirmed he was definitely someone I wanted around for a long time to come.

A short while later, I made my way to the bunkhouse and sat down to dinner with Cookie, Bo and Walt. Walt had been around almost as long as I had. He was a rugged looking cowboy; scars lined his face and arms. He didn’t mention his past, only long enough to say that he hadn’t had an easy life, had lost everything he had, and decided he was too old to start over, so he thought of hiring on someplace where he could live out his days doing what he loved. Riding horses and working cattle. He was a great fit. His eyes were constantly moving and I wondered just how much he saw that he never commented on. Could I trust him? Would he help? Or would he side with Beecham? I just couldn’t figure it out. He didn’t seem to like Beecham all too well, but he never spoke out against him, either. Well, none of us really did.

Cookie, on the other hand, had been here long before me. Cookie was dark complected with wiry hair and was average height and was a bit pudgy around the middle. We always teased him that he ate more than he served. He would just laugh and remind us that good cooks always sample their wares before serving. Cookie had the best sense of humor and the stories he could tell! The four of us would sit around in the evening and tell tall tales about our adventures. Cookie had grown up as a slave in Georgia but when Emancipation happened, he took off for the west. Stopped in Texas when he saw an advertisement for a ranch cook. At that time, Beecham had six other ranch hands. But they didn’t stay because Beecham was rude, crude, and a drunk. I once asked Cookie why he had stayed on when the others left and his response was simple, “Doesn’t matter where I go, they won’t hire me to do anything but cook. So, I might as well stay here. I have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep on instead of on the ground, a small wage and I can do what I love, ranching and cooking. Why leave?” I couldn’t fault his logic and if things worked out, he would stay on. And that small wage, well, I would see it increase as soon as possible.

 The four of us knew the potential of the land and we were determined to make it prosperous, despite Beecham’s laziness. The dinner conversation soon turned to the new Mrs. Beecham. Walt being the first to bring her name up, “So, did Mrs. Beecham arrive safely?”

“Yes, she did. Arrived on the stage and immediately put me in my place, refusing to call me Jamie,” I answered. Then, in a sing song voice mocked her, “Mr. Smythe, I cannot call you by your given name as you work for my husband.” My hand reached up to smooth my face, “does she not know how informal folks are around here?”

“From what I saw, and mind you, I didn’t get a good look at her, she seemed refined. Like a lady with good breeding. Where’d you say she hailed from?” Walt inquired.

“St. Louis. But she isn’t technically a “high-bred lady”. She told me that she was orphaned as a child and raised in an orphanage. I feel like there is a story there but she refused to share anymore,” I shared with the men. I still wondered what had happened to her and hoped that one day she would confide in me.

Several hours later, the sun had finally set and the darkness of the night had overtaken us. I took a short walk to clear my head. All through dinner, my thoughts kept going back to a certain red-haired beauty. I knew that I shouldn’t desire her but I couldn’t help myself. She was perfect. I stood at the end of the barn and looked at the moon. “Momma, Pa, I hope I have made you proud of me. Now comes the dangerous part. Help me protect her. Uncle Samuel will be here soon but, in the meantime, give me the wisdom of how to proceed,” I whispered quietly. A lone tear fell from my eye and I blinked rapidly, trying to stop more from falling, “I miss you both so much!”

With that, I turned back to the bunkhouse, pausing long enough to look at the main house where all of the lights were out. In the darkness, I could see Bo. No one would see him if they didn’t know where to look. For tonight, we had to pray that Hannah was safe. Tomorrow was a different story.