A Beauty for the Scarred Rancher (Preview)

Chapter One

Dust kicked up behind the brown bull as he took out his rage on the packed dirt beneath his feet at the far end of the pasture. 

Ezra sat astride his horse, Storm, watching as the bull worked himself into a fit. This was the worst part of the season. When he took to separating the cows and their calves from the bull, there was always a problem on his hands. 

Clouds of steam came from the bull’s black nose, stark white against the cool early morning air. 

The bull’s head tossed, more dirt flying up before the horns lowered. 

Horns were always the biggest worry when dealing with one of the bulls, especially one as large as the one in front of him. 

The angry bull was the most impressive one he had, its horns spanning several feet. He stood a good deal taller than the other bulls and had produced some fine calves over the last couple of years. 

But the beast had a wicked temper.

Ezra dug his heels into Storm’s sides as the bull set his sights on a weak point in the fence. If the bull got to the fence before Ezra could lasso him, he would be running toward the calves. 

He pulled his hat lower over his eyes as the sun shone bright, riding hard to get to the other end of the pasture. Rocky yipped at his heels, the grey whippet waiting for his command to be released. 

Storm thundered down the pasture, breathing hard as Ezra ripped the rope from around the horn. The fibers were rough against the few smooth patches of his hands as he held tight to it, trying to come in at the best angle to lasso the bull. 

Thankfully, Storm was the best Quarter Horse a man could ask for, anticipating the movements Ezra was going to make before he made them. 

He kept his feet firm in the stirrups, fighting hard to keep his balance as he rode through the long grass the bull had yet to chew away. 

Ezra tied a quick lasso, whistling for Rocky to run away as the bull charged. 

With his heart lodged in his throat, Ezra started swirling the lasso above his head, the loop growing bigger. 

The bull charged closer to Ezra as he tossed the lasso. The bull’s eyes rolled and it huffed, more clouds of steam exploding from his nose. The ground shuddered with the weight and stride of the bull bearing down toward him. 

As long as me and Storm don’t get gored and the bull doesn’t get injured, this morning will be a good morning.

The rope pulled taut as it looped around the bull’s massive horns. Storm turned to the side, lunging backward as Ezra fought to keep his grip on the rope. 

“Enough of this, you devil!” 

The bull pulled hard, the rough rope biting through the callouses on Ezra’s palms, ripping new cuts. 

Ezra let go of the rope as the bull ran. He looked to the sky, taking a deep breath before seizing the reins once more.

Rocky rushed by, hot on the bull’s heels. 

With a hushed curse, Ezra whistled, calling the dog’s attention to him. “Rocky, stay!” 

The last thing he wanted was to see his beloved dog get hurt if the bull decided to charge it next. 

Rocky skidded to a stop, his head tilted to the side and his tail wagging. 

Ezra urged Storm faster as the bull wheeled around again, its back end dipping close to the ground before it surged forward.

Drawing on the reins, Ezra moved Storm closer to the bull, matching its speed until they reached the dirt patch at the end of the pasture again. The bull’s chest heaved as Ezra pulled Storm to a slow walk, gently guiding the bull into the corner of the pasture where the gate to a small pen was open. 

Ezra kept moving forward until the bull had backed into the pen. 

He turned Storm to the side and kicked the gate shut with his foot. When he hopped down from the saddle, the bull looked at him with wild eyes, though great puffs of air no longer came from its nose.

“Easy boy,” Ezra said, his tone low and soft as he opened the gate and slipped inside. He took the rope from the bull’s horns, taking a moment to rub the white spot between the bull’s horns. “Good boy. Everything is calm now. No need to throw more of a fuss than you already have.” 

The bull snorted, its massive head moving from one side to the other as the female cows called for it again. 

Please, God, don’t let this bull gore me.

By some small miracle, the bull ignored the calls, instead allowing Ezra to thread the rope through the iron ring in its nose. 

“Easy, boy.” 

Ezra hummed to the bull as he tied the rope to one of the fence posts, ensuring the bull stayed in place while he looked it over. 

“What spooked you in the first place?” He ran his hands along the bull’s face, feeling for anything that didn’t seem quite right. “It wasn’t just the girls, was it? No, you’re a good ol’ boy.” 

He moved down the side of the bull, and it was then that he saw the dark red cuts to the bull’s flank and the dried blood matted in his soft fur. 

The bull stomped, tossing its head, but it didn’t pull free, the slight pressure to its nose enough to keep it in place. 

“It’s all gonna be alright.” Ezra pulled the bandana from his pocket and dabbed at the blood still oozing from the cuts as they scabbed over. 

While at first glance it could have been an animal attack, the more blood Ezra cleared away, the crisper the cuts became. 

The marks on the bull couldn’t have come from an animal attack. There were no jagged edges to the cuts, no teeth marks. Any of the coyotes would have left teeth marks from tearing through the hide.

Coyotes were a possible threat in Arizona, and within the five years Ezra had been the owner of the ranch, he had only had problems with them a handful of times. 

The bull bellowed as Ezra wiped away the last of the blood. 

“I know, boy. I’m sorry.” 

He patted the bull’s shoulder, soothing the animal as he eyed the cuts. 

It was as if someone had hurt the bull purposefully. They would have snuck onto his ranch in the middle of the night and somehow passed the ranch hand shack without being detected. 

Ezra would have to speak with Giles after the morning chores were done. If there was a man injuring his herd and sabotaging his ranch, he would have to put a stop to it immediately. 

The ranch was the only thing left in the world he had. His family was dead, and though his parents had passed long ago, it had only been five years since his brother passed. 

Without another soul to care for in the world, Ezra took to the animals. 

They were his family now. Though his herd was vast, he had his favorite cows and bulls among them. The horses he kept each had personalities all their own, though Storm was his favorite. 

And now, he had to fear for them. 

Ezra swallowed hard and untied the bull. He stepped back through the gate, looping the rope back over the saddle horn. 

He placed a foot in the stirrup before hauling himself up and over Storm, settling in the saddle. 

Storm backed up with a slight shift of Ezra’s hand. He leaned over and pulled open the gate, letting the bull back into the pasture.

He rode back over to the patch of dirt, peering at the ground and looking for signs of blood. 

There was none there, which meant that the bull had to be cut somewhere else in the pasture. 

Ezra looked around, looking for a sign of blood anywhere. The person who cut the bull might have dropped something on the way out. It was a small hope, but it was there. 

As the cool morning breeze shifted, blowing some of the long grass, he caught sight of a smear of blood on one of the bushes near the fence line.

Ezra rode over and got down, crouching and running his fingers over the leaves. The blood was dry, which meant that the bull hadn’t been injured for long when he brushed up against it. 

There was another shift in the wind, parting some more of the tall grass, but there wasn’t any more blood close by. However, when he walked to the south of the pasture, there were footprints that looked too small to be his own. 

Someone had been in his pasture, and they had cut his prized bull. 

Ezra looked around, but there was no sign of anyone who might still be lurking at the edges of his property, waiting for him to discover the bull and the cuts on his flank.

The person could be waiting for another moment to plan an attack, waiting to see how long it took Ezra to respond to his herd when he noticed something was wrong. 

No matter what the purpose was for hurting the bull, it left a sick feeling in Ezra’s stomach. He had no patience for people who were willing to hurt an innocent animal. 

He wiped his hands on his trousers before turning back to Storm. He whistled for Rocky, grinning when the dog bolted through the grass toward him. 

Rocky looked up at him with a wide, doggy smile. Ezra crouched down and patted the dog’s shoulders as his gaze roamed the property.

“Good boy, Rocky.” 

For a moment, he thought about trying to get the dog to track the man, but Rocky’s sense of smell had never been the best. More than once, Ezra had been told that he should have bought a hound. 

However, Rocky was the dog that Ezra felt called to. 

Rocky shot to his feet, turning and barking as something dark moved along the horizon. His hackles stood straight on end, his tail frozen in place. 

A man appeared on a horse near the house, a dark silhouette against the blue sky and fat white clouds. 

Ezra stood and tipped the brim of his hat to block the bright sunlight from his eyes, but he couldn’t get a good look at the man. 

As the figure started down the pasture toward him, Ezra found himself wishing he had brought his rifle.

Chapter Two

Ezra strode back to Storm with Rocky at his heels, his heart pounding. He hadn’t thought to bring a single weapon with him. There hadn’t been a need for it. 

His ranch was nearly an hour’s ride from town. It wasn’t often that he got visitors out this far, though there were neighboring ranches closer than town. 

Not much happened out this far. Nights were quiet. The bandits preferred to stay closer to the trails, taking supplies from the unsuspecting travelers trying to make a new life for themselves. 

It was rare that the bandits would sneak onto the ranches, and during the rare times that they did, they only stole a cow or two. They didn’t harm the animals and leave.

Ezra took a deep breath and swung back into the saddle. If there was to be more trouble, he didn’t want it to happen near the bull. The poor creature had been through an ordeal already and didn’t need more stress piled on top of it. 

If the bull charged again, he would likely open the cut. Without knowing how much blood the bull had lost, it could be dangerous for him to start bleeding again. 

Which means I shall have to take the fight to the man. 

Ezra rode up the hill, his heart pounding in his chest in time with the rocking of his body as he trotted toward the man. 

Clouds shifted through the sky with the breeze, blocking out the sun.

With the bright rays fully out of his vision, Ezra got another look at the man. 

When he saw the long black hair and beige hat that was once white, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Giles, what in the blazes are you doing?” Ezra called to him, a smile overtaking his face, tugging at his cheeks until they ached despite the situation in the pasture. 

He was relieved that it wasn’t the man come back to finish off the bull. 

Giles rode closer. “Sorry. Went to the ranch across the way in the middle of the night since they had a foal that was stuck. Helped them get it out.” 

“Oh, did you?” Ezra asked, his tone teasing as he inclined his head in the direction of the weathered barn. “Come with me. We have an issue that we have to deal with, and it will be good for you to learn how to stitch wounds closed.” 

Though Giles was not a young man, he was still three years younger than Ezra’s thirty years. In a way, it felt as if Ezra had taken the man under his wing and was tasked with teaching him how to run a ranch. 

“I did.” Giles’ chest swelled with pride as he pulled his horse into a trot alongside Ezra. “It was the middle of the night, and Esmerelda came banging at the door to the shack. She said that she needed help with one of the mares and that her father was already elbow-deep in the horse.” 

“Ah, and there is the reason you went away in the middle of the night without waking me to tell me where you would be.” Ezra gave Giles a stern look as they approached the big barn doors. 

They got down from their horses, and Ezra moved the large wooden beam that spread across both doors, keeping them locked in place. 

Giles blushed and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you, but I didn’t think about it. She was in tears. She thought the poor little foal was going to die.” 

“Never apologize for helping your wife. How’s the building going?” Ezra tried to swallow the small tinge of jealousy he felt. 

Giles and Esmerelda had only been married a month, and they were still enamored with each other. More often than not, he would see the two of them beneath a tree in the pasture, sharing their dinner while Rocky lingered around them, trying to get some scraps. 

Though it was nice to see the loving couple, there were days when it made Ezra wish his family were still alive. 

There were more days still when he wished that he had a family to call his own. Perhaps a wife who would sit with him in the nights, talking about the ranch and their plans for their future. Maybe there would be children playing at their feet, dogs sleeping by the door. 

It was a life that he hadn’t thought to want until he saw how enamored Giles and Esmerelda were with each other.

Giles followed him into the barn, boots thumping against the straw-covered dirt floor. “It will be better when it’s built, and we can finally live together. That little shack is good for a single man, but it’s never been good for the two of us, and with the baby on the way, Esmerelda is eager for a nursery. I should be able to put the roof on it this week, and then by next week, I should be able to move her in.” 

“If you need help putting the roof on, I’ll be able to clear sometime in the evenings after chores now that the days are getting longer.” 

Giles led the way to the tack room, opening the door and coughing when a cloud of dust flew up. “You should think about sweeping in here more often.” 

He smirked over his shoulder at Ezra, knowing that was his job yet looking for a reason to poke at Ezra anyway. 

Ezra rolled his eyes and went to the table at the back of the tack room, searching for the little tin box of needles he kept high on a shelf. 

“Why do you need the needles?” Giles asked as he leaned against one of the other massive wood tabletops sitting across two old barrels. “Did some of the horses get into another fight again?” 

“No.” Ezra rose to his toes, searching the top shelf. He patted along its length, groaning when his fingers brushed through the cobwebs. “You’re going to be cleaning the tack room tonight. I want this place sparkling.” 

“Can a dirt floor sparkle?” Giles grinned as he grabbed a spool of thread, holding it between his pinched forefinger and thumb. “I’d think it’d become more of a giant mud puddle if I tried to wash it.” 

“Now isn’t the time for jokes. We have to take care of the bull.” Ezra’s fingers finally brushed over the metal, and he pulled the box down. “And if I see you trying to mop the floor, you’ll be the one to find a way to dry it.” 

A loud guffaw burst out from Giles as he shook his head. “I wouldn’t try mopping the floor. Esmerelda would be ashamed to call me her husband if I did, and then her father would have more of a reason to dislike me.” 

Ezra put the tin on the counter and opened it up, pulling out one of the needles. He took the thread from Giles and a small knife from one of the other shelves before heading out of the barn. 

“One of the bulls was injured last night.” Ezra led the way out of the barn, hopping over the fence and into the pasture with the bull.”

Giles stopped in his tracks. “How did the bull get hurt? I swear I put him into the pasture alone last night like you said to do.” 

Ezra nodded to a length of rope draped over the fence, leftover from chores he had done the previous day. “Grab that and bring it with you. You’re going to need to tie the bull to the fence and then keep him from putting a horn through my eye while I close the wound.” 

“Maybe a scar through your face would make you more appealing to women,” Giles said, his tone light and teasing as he snatched the rope and followed Ezra to where the bull stood by the fence. 

“I don’t need help finding myself a woman.” 

“I would argue about that based on the fact that you haven’t yet found a wife.” Giles gestured to the stained trousers Ezra wore, and the shirt that had a small tear in the forearm that he had yet to patch. “Perhaps clothes that don’t make you look like you’ve been living in a ditch.” 

“I have not been living in a ditch.” Ezra nodded to the bull. “Go and tie the rope to his ring and then secure him to the fence. Tight. Don’t give him enough room to move his head.” 

Giles did as he was asked, speaking to the bull in a low tone as he stepped closer while Ezra remained back a few feet. If they both approached the bull at the same time, there was a chance the creature would spook, and then they would be left trying to catch him and stop the bleeding again. 

Within a couple of minutes, Giles had secured the bull to the fence. 

Giles stepped to the side, getting a good look at the cuts on his flank. “This looks like it’s been done with a knife. I thought when you said something happened to the bull that he had gotten into a fight with one of the others.” 

“Not this time.” Ezra cut a long length of thread from the spool before shoving the end through the eye of the needle. 

He tucked the spool into his pocket before motioning to the waterskin Giles carried slung across his body by a leather strap. 

Giles handed over the skin. “What did happen to him then? I didn’t see anybody when I left to go help with the foal. I didn’t see anyone approaching either, and Mr. MacDonald’s barn faces the road.” 

“I don’t know who was here or what they were planning to do beyond injuring the bull. With breeding season coming up shortly, I’m not sure that he’ll be much use to us. He risks tearing the wound open again with too much physical activity.” 

Giles nodded, taking back the skin after Ezra poured water over the wound. “It will mean a loss of profit for the season if you have fewer calves.” 

“Yes. Which is why I’m going to stitch the wound shut and hope that is enough to heal him quickly. We’ll have to catch him and check the wound each day for signs of infection.” 

“Do you think whoever did this to him is going to come back?” 

Ezra took a deep breath before beginning to stitch the bull’s wound shut. “I don’t know. It seems like an unusual attack, but whoever cut him knew the potential damage this could do.” 

Giles rolled his bottom lip between his teeth before running a hand through his short beard. “If I had been here last night, this might not have happened.” 

The bull grunted with each pierce of the needle into his hide. Ezra hated the way he had to hurt the bull more to heal it, but this was the best option they had. 

“If you had been here, last night would have still happened.” Ezra kept his tone even, though he was annoyed that his ranch hand left the property without informing him. 

Though, at the same time, he couldn’t blame Giles for wanting to help his wife when she came to him in tears over a foal’s birth. Ezra supposed that he would have done the same had he been in Giles’ position. 

Ezra finished stitching the wound and tied the rest of the thread in a tight knot before cutting off the excess. 

Giles stepped closer to take a look at the stitches. “Still, if I had been here and the fire had been lit in the shack as it usually is, they would have thought twice about getting into that pasture. I would have stepped out with the rifle and scared them off if they had.” 

“Or they would have slipped into the shack and harmed you instead.” 

Ezra put the needle into his shirt pocket, though he knew he would probably lose the needle long before it ever made it back to the tin. 

A long silence stretched between them before Giles nodded. “You might be right about that. I would hate to leave Esmerelda without a husband. It’s a shame that this happened, though.” 

“It is, but there’s nothing we can do now. We must move on and hope that no more of these attacks happen.” 

Giles cleared his throat and reached into the back pocket of his trousers. “I thought that there was something I should probably tell you.” 

Ezra turned to look at him, watching a bead of sweat roll down his forehead. Giles wouldn’t quite look him in the eyes, instead choosing to smooth out the paper in his hand. 

“What is it?” Ezra tried to get a good look at the paper but with the way Giles moved it and the wind tugging at it, he couldn’t make out any of the words. 

“Now, I don’t want you to be mad, but you know you’re not a charmer. I’m sure if we were to speak with Esmerelda, she would be willing to give you lessons on how to make a lady swoon,” Giles says, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. 

He didn’t know what to say to that. He kept his mouth shut as he thought of the scar on his neck. It wasn’t doing him any favors with the women in town, either. He saw the way they stared at it, wondering what happened to him, though none of them deemed themselves impolite enough to ask. 

Giles held out the piece of paper, snatching it back before Ezra could take it. “You have to promise that you’re not going to be mad. We’re just trying to help you.” 

“You’re going to have to show me what you’ve got there before I decide if I’m going to be mad or not.” 

With a sigh, Giles handed over the newspaper clipping. 

Ezra paused for a moment as Giles shifted his weight from one side to the other. He dreaded looking down. Whatever Giles had done, it wasn’t going to be good.

He was resolved not to be mad, though. Giles was only trying to help him, even if he went about it the wrong way. 

What worried him was the talk of finding a woman for him. 

When Ezra looked down at the paper, his worst fears were confirmed. 

“Giles,” Ezra said through gritted teeth. “Why have you placed an ad for a mail-order bride for me?” 

His voice rose with each word until it was booming across the pasture. 

He shoved the paper back to Giles. “I knew you and Esmerelda liked to meddle in my affairs, but I didn’t think you would take it to this level. You have no right!” 

“Esmeralda thought you were lonely, and I agreed. We both thought that, at the very least, we might be able to find a woman who was able to put up with your brooding.” 

“I don’t need a woman.” 

Giles grabbed his hand and pressed the paper into it. “Just take the time to read it over. No women have responded yet, but I’m sure in time they will.” 

Like the wise man he was a quarter of the time, Giles fled the pasture and raced over to the horses, leading them into the barn before Ezra could rip into him. 

Ezra sighed and looked at the paper in his hand one last time before tucking it in his pocket and heading to the house. 

He didn’t know what had gotten into Giles’ mind when he placed the ad for a wife on Ezra’s behalf, but he was sure that only trouble was to come. 

Nothing good ever came from allowing another person to grow close to him.

Chapter Three

Nadine stared at the train, swallowing hard as she reached up to scratch her cat, Ally, behind the ears. She took a deep breath as one of the porters came for her trunk, disappearing into the car. 

Byron looked at her, tears gathering in his eyes, his face crumpling and making the wrinkles that lined his skin more prominent. “You don’t have to do this, Nadine. There is another way, there must be another way.” 

She pressed her hand to her father’s cheek, her chest constricting so tight it felt hard to draw in a full breath. “This is the only option. We’ve exhausted all others, and you know I would do anything for you, Papa.” 

“I should have been more careful.” 

“We can’t change what happened.” She pulled him into a hug and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his whiskers scratching at her. “I’ll write to you when I arrive in Montana. I shall let you know that I’m safe and there is nothing to worry about.” 

The train’s whistle rang out, thick and dark smoke choking the air, despite the blue sky that hung above them. 

Nadine wanted to cry. She never thought that she would leave Phoenix, but if leaving was what it took to save her father, then that was what she would do. 

“I’ll miss you,” Byron said, his voice thick with the unshed tears. 

“I’ll miss you, too. Perhaps one day, once I’m settled, you can come stay with me for a little while.” She looked to the sun to dry her tears before they fell. “I love you, Papa.” 

“I love you, too.” 

With her head held high, Nadine boarded the train, keeping Ally close as she made her way to the small cabin she had purchased with the money her future husband had sent to her. 

It had only been enough for her ticket to Montana, but that was fine. She would go to Montana, and once she was there, she would find a way to help Byron. 

Nadine sighed as she closed the sliding door behind her and settled onto the crushed velvet couch, looking out the window at Phoenix. 

In no time at all, she would be at her new home. 

Ally hopped down from her shoulder and onto the table, letting out a small meow before curling up in a patch of sun. 

Oh, to be a cat without a worry in the world.

As the train lurched forward, Nadine closed her eyes. She would need her rest. First impressions were the most important, and she wanted her future husband to think the world of her. 

If she were cranky, he might send her back home. 

Returning home wasn’t an option. 

***

“Papa, this ledger is a mess.” Nadine looked up from the tight and slanted scrawl of Byron’s writing, wondering how he carried on for so long with numbers as inaccurate as these. 

Though, Byron would be upset if he knew that she had snuck into his study while he was tending to animals in the clinic, she could not help herself. 

In the last few weeks, she had noticed pieces of her late mother’s jewelry going missing. Those pieces had been kept in a box in Byron’s room, waiting for the day Nadine got married. 

Though she had never known her mother, she felt an attachment to the pieces. They were simple, with gold and single gems, but they had been the only part of her mother that she had left. 

Byron used to take the necklaces and rings out once a year to clean them, telling Nadine stories about her mother and how they first fell in love. 

Then those rings and necklaces had started going missing. 

Nadine had been cleaning Byron’s room while he performed surgery on a dog one day. She had been missing her mother more than she usually did and thought that peeking in the box might help ease some of her sadness. 

The more weeks that passed, the more pieces went missing. 

Now that she had looked over the ledger, taking into account all the figures from the income he earned and the money he had gambled away. 

Tears flooded her eyes as she flipped to the next page of the ledger, more numbers and names recorded there. 

She couldn’t believe that Byron had kept this from her. 

They were close. She had spent her days working in the clinic with him and healing animals for as long as she could remember. He had never remarried so they would have time to spend together as a family. He took on the burden of raising Nadine alone. 

And now, he had hidden the debt from her.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, her hand trembling as she turned another page.

Until this morning, she hadn’t known about Byron’s gambling or the debt he had incurred in the process. She knew that money had been a little tighter than normal, but she thought it was because business at the clinic had slowed down over the winter. 

Now that it was summer, business was booming and there were almost more animals than they could care for coming into the clinic on a daily basis, but there still wasn’t enough money to take care of the debt. 

“This is bad, Ally.” 

Nadine looked to the three-legged orange tabby lounging on the windowsill. The cat opened its eyes, showing off the vibrant green flecked with gold before letting out a small meow. 

She sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t know how to fix this. Papa would be mad if he knew I was snooping through his things, but he should have told me about the gambling and the debt.” 

“Nadine!” Byron’s voice boomed through the house as the door that separated their home from the clinic slammed shut. “I have time to have a quick supper with you before I have to take care of a litter of stray kittens. 

She glanced at the door, listening to the floorboards creaking beneath Byron’s boots as he walked down the hall and into the kitchen. 

Her heart seized in her throat as she hurried to return the ledgers to how they had been, arranging them on the desk and hiding them beneath the patient files Byron had left out. 

As she wiped the tears from her eyes, she didn’t know how she was going to eat sandwiches with Byron and pretend that she didn’t know about the debt. 

They would have to talk about it sooner or later, but she wanted to look over the numbers again before confronting him. 

At least now I know where he goes when he tells me he has to work late in the evenings. 

Though she had never thought her father was capable of lying to her, it was clear that he had been for years, based on the ledger. 

Money was owed to too many people. The sums were too high to be able to be paid quickly. 

She would have to search for a job in the city to help Byron. Phoenix was rapidly growing, and new businesses were opening often. There had to be at least one person who would be willing to provide her with work. 

Nadine bit her bottom lip as she stood and smoothed her trembling hands down the front of her poplin dress. 

Before she could join Byron in the other room, there came a thundering knock at the door. It sounded as if it was rattling in the frame. 

“I’ve got it!” Byron shouted, his voice tight and his words clipped. 

Nadine followed him to the door, ignoring the shout. 

Byron looked at her over his shoulder as he reached for the knob. “You should go start eating. Those sandwiches you made look delicious. I’d hate for them to go to waste after the effort you put into them.” 

“Who’s here, Papa?” Nadine asked, her voice wavering as another round of tears blurred the edges of her vision.

Byron gave her a soft smile. “Whoever it is, I’m sure that they don’t mean me any harm. Just go to the kitchen.” 

“No.” 

He stared at her, his bushy eyebrows climbing high. It was the first time in her life that she had openly defied him, but she wouldn’t be shoved into another room while he dealt with whoever was on the other side of the door. 

The pounding continued as Byron gave her a pleading look. “Nadine, go.” 

“No.” Nadine crossed her arms, her chin jutting out as her jaw clenched. 

With a sigh, Byron turned the knob and opened the door. 

The man standing on the front porch tipped his hat as his green eyes locked on Nadine. “Evening, miss. Evening, Dr. Jameson. Mind stepping out here so we can have a friendly discussion?” 

When the man tucked his hands into his pockets, the black jacket he wore shifted, showing the holstered revolver on his hip. 

Nadine stepped forward, taking the door from Byron and opening it wider. “Won’t you come in? We were just about to sit down and eat, but I have enough food prepared for everyone.” 

“Perhaps you could bring some out here,” the man said, giving her a small smile, though it didn’t meet his eyes. 

There was something dark and dangerous lingering there. Whoever this man was, he was someone that she didn’t want to disobey. 

Byron looked at her, his eyes wide as the color drained from his face. “Yes, Nadine. Go get the sandwiches. And perhaps you could put them on that platter you painted.” 

Nadine knew that Byron was trying to get her as far away from the conversation as possible, for as long as possible, but she wasn’t one to be deterred. 

She nodded and hurried into the kitchen, leaving the sandwiches on the plain white platter. 

As she swept through the kitchen and back down the hallway, her skirt snagged on one of the doorknobs. She pulled herself free and hurried down the hall as fast as she could without running. 

“I’ve been patient with you, Byron, but time has run out, and I’m tired of not having my money.” The man’s voice grew louder as Nadine got closer. 

She set the platter of sandwiches on the entryway table, smiling at the man. “I brought the sandwiches, but I couldn’t find our nice platter.” 

Byron glanced at her like she was insane for coming back. “I told you to find that platter, Nadine. We only provide the best for our guests. Return to the kitchen and look for it, please.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “Byron, don’t you think your daughter deserves to know the kinda trouble you’ve put her in?” 

Nadine swallowed hard. “Papa, what kind of trouble are we in?” 

***

The train rolled to a stop a few days later, pulling Nadine from the memory as she looked at the small town around her. It was nothing like home, with painted buildings and clean glass windows. 

This town was dirtier, though it still smelled of freshly cut wood. 

Nadine looked around the crowd of people gathered outside the train station, but amongst the women taking their afternoon tea on the porch, there were only two men who looked engaged with the women beside them. 

She swallowed hard and dipped her head to the porter as he unloaded her trunk from the train. He deposited it at her feet as the men stood and drew closer to her. 

She looked away, her brows furrowing. In the letter her future husband had sent her, he would be waiting with a whippet and a wagon for her.

As she rummaged in the bag hanging from her shoulder, her fingers brushed against the letters she had sent back and forth with Ezra. 

Perhaps it was foolish to move to Montana and marry a man she didn’t know, but it was the only way she could save her father.

If he’s not here yet, I’ll have to look for him. 

Nadine left her trunk in the dirt, grinning at Ally as she meowed from her shoulder. The little cat dug her claws into the material of the dress, holding on as Nadine climbed the long and low steps to the station. 

“Excuse me,” she said, her tone soft and friendly as she approached a pair of women playing cards, their trunks beside them on the ground. “I was looking for a man who is supposed to meet me here. He’s a rancher. Ezra Wolfe.” 

The older of the two women put her hand to her mouth, while the younger drew in a sharp breath. 

The younger woman shook her head. “You don’t want to see him. It would be wiser to return to the train.” 

Nadine’s eyebrows pulled together. “I’m afraid that I don’t know what you mean. I wrote to him, and we were to meet here. He said he would be with his dog.” 

A man laughed and shook his head. “Too innocent for your own good. Listen to the lady. You don’t want to find the Rancher Wolf. He’s better left in his den.” 

The people around her laughed, but none offered their assistance. 

Nadine plastered on a polite smile, though internally, her blood boiled. 

She left the train station, rounding the side of the red building and stepping out into the street. 

Just as she did, a cart whipped around the corner, a massive horse thundering directly in front of her. 

When she jumped back to avoid the heavy hooves, her heel caught on something. It sent her tumbling to the ground while the sound of a dog barking drowned out the witnesses laughing at her. 

“Sorry.” 

Nadine’s cheeks flame as she got to her feet, dusting the ruddy dirt off her pale blue dress. “You should be. You could have run me over!” 

“Storm didn’t mean much by it.” 

When she looked at the man, ready to give him a piece of her mind, her heart leaped into her throat, cutting off the words on the tip of her tongue. 

Though he was sitting in the cart, she could tell that he was tall. He would tower over her, and those broad shoulders were nearly double the width of hers. 

The man had black hair flopping across his forehead beneath the brim of his worn hat. Deep brown eyes the color of autumn leaves just before winter met her own. 

Nadine glanced to the dog in the back of the cart. The whippet tilted its head to the side, its pink tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth. 

When she looked back at the man, the heart lodged in her throat plummeted to her feet. 

This reckless man could not possibly be her husband. 

“Are you lost?” he asked as he hopped down from the cart and tied the horse’s reins to the hitching post out front. 

The dog started barking again, its eyes locked on Ally. The little cat stood up and hissed, her back arching and hair standing on end as her claws dug into Nadine’s shoulder.

The pain was a shock, clearing the blockage that prevented her from speaking. 

“No. I’m supposed to be meeting you, I think.” Nadine reached into her bag and pulled out the letters, handing them to him. “You are Ezra Wolfe, I suspect?” 

His brow furrowed as he took the letters from her. “I am.” 

“I’m Nadine Jameson.” 

The color drained from his face, his jaw working overtime as he flipped through the envelopes with her name scrawled across them in a spiky script. 

“Rocky likes you.” Ezra handed back the letters once he had finished flipping through them. “Kept bringing your letters back to me.” 

“You got a good many letters from potential wives then?” she asked, curiosity in her voice as she tucked the letters into her bag. “I didn’t know if you would. I’ve never done something like this before. I’ve never been married either, so I suppose that will be another first. Have you been married before?” 

Ezra took a step back, standing closer to the horse and looking at her with wary eyes. “No. I’ve not been married.” 

“Well, I suppose that is for the best.” Nadine smiled and approached the cart as Rocky started barking again. “You sure do have a lot to say, don’t you, boy?” 

Rocky glared at Ally, his barking softer, but not fading. 

Ezra approached the dog and rubbed his shoulder. “You talk a lot.” 

Nadine flushed and took a step back, looking at the ground. “My apologies. I’ve been told that I speak too much, but when I get nervous, it’s all I seem to do. My father used to say that I could out-talk a politician if I really tried.” 

“Didn’t say it was too much.” Ezra soothed the dog until it was silent, looking at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Just said it was a lot.” 

Her heart skipped a beat as she nodded. “Well, I guess that is alright for both of us then. If I am ever talking too much, you can tell me, and I won’t take offense to it. I promise.” 

Ezra looked away from her and at the people who were gathering in front of the shops that lined the streets. They whispered behind their hands and fans, glancing between Ezra and Nadine. 

He sighed and gestured to the cart. “Get in. Here isn’t the place to get to know each other.” 

Nadine stared right back at the people watching them until they turned around and went about their own business. 

When she turned her attention back to Ezra, he paid her no mind, looking past her at the train. 

“My trunk is on the other side of the station. I abandoned it to come find you as you were late, and I can’t lift it on my own.” 

He nodded and strode away without a word, rounding the side of the train station and disappearing. 

Nadine pressed a hand to her chest, trying to slow her pounding pulse. 

Ezra was not the man she had imagined him to be, but then again, she supposed she likely wasn’t the woman he had suspected she would be either. 

Perhaps she wasn’t as beautiful a woman as he had been hoping for. Maybe he was looking for a wife who didn’t speak unless spoken to. 

If that were the case, then he was going to be sorely disappointed with her. 

Ezra came back with her trunk hiked over one of his shoulders, and Nadine had to admit that she was impressed by his strength. Even though the trunk was on the smaller side, it was still heavy, and she hadn’t been able to move the thing on her own. 

He lowered it into the back of the cart before turning to her and holding out a hand.

After a moment of hesitation, she placed her hand in his.

Please don’t let this be a mistake.