

Violet's Mail Order Husband

Montana Brides: Book 1

Kate Whitsby

~~~

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Kate Whitsby

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Dedication

To YOU, The reader.

Thank you for your support.

Thank you for your emails.

Thank you for your reviews.

Thank you for reading and joining me on this road.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

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Chapter 1

"You know I don't approve of your mail-order husband idea, Violet." Cornell Pollard shuffled the papers on his desk and bristled his eyebrows over the top of his spectacles.

Violet Kilburn lounged her long, slender body on a divan across the room, her brown eyes gazing out the library window at nothing in particular. Rocking Horse Ranch spread out before her, but she didn't take much notice of it. Her thoughts wandered elsewhere. "Yes, I know you don't approve, Cornell. You've only told me about a thousand times." She touched her straight auburn hair, put up in curls on top of her head, but didn't adjust it.

"Whatever possessed you to get a mail-order husband, I'll never understand." Cornell laid down one paper and picked up another. "You know, I have young men in mind for you and your sisters, young men who will suit you better than perfect strangers."

"Yes, I know you have young men in mind for us," Violet returned. "That's precisely why we chose to get mail-order husbands. We want to marry men of our own choosing. Surely that's not too difficult for you to understand."

"I understand it," Cornell replied. "I just don't think it's a very wise policy. For one thing, you aren't marrying men of your own choosing. You're marrying strangers picked out of a hat. You have no notion of these men's true motive. They might be marrying you for your fortune. Did you ever consider that?"

"Marrying us for our fortune?" Violet repeated. "You mean, like the men you have picked out for us? I can guarantee _they_ would be marrying us for our fortune and nothing else. Of that I am quite certain."

Cornell's head shot up and he gaped at Violet. "What has gotten into you, child? I've never seen you so petulant before."

Violet scowled at him from her couch. "I'm not a child, Cornell. I'm twenty-three years old, and I want to get married. That's all you need to know about it."

"You've never acted like this before," Cornell exclaimed. "You've always been so sensible about things in the past. I worry you've quite taken leave of your senses."

"I haven't taken leave of my senses just because I won't do what you want me to do." Violet turned back to the window. "If I've been so sensible in the past, you should trust me not to do anything foolish now. I know what I'm doing, and there's nothing you can say to convince me otherwise."

"I only want what's best for you and your sisters, my dear." Cornell's voice took on the pleading whine of an old man with no other weapons in his arsenal. "You're my nieces and my wards, and I only want to see you happily married to men who will do you credit. I hate to think of you married to some rude cowboys with no refinement or breeding."

Violet sighed. "I understand you want what's best for us, Cornell. But there's no point in arguing about it anymore. My sisters and I will drive down to the train station in Butte to pick the men up off the train today. The deed is done, and you can't undo it by pestering me about it. So I would appreciate it if you would drop the whole subject."

"I don't know if I can do that," Cornell told her.

"You better do it," Violet snapped. "Because my sisters and I agree that we won't stand for you harassing these men once they arrive. If you can't accept the situation for what it is, then keep quiet."

Cornell stared at her. Then he shook his head and sighed down at his papers. "I don't believe I'm hearing this from you, Violet. I just don't believe it."

"Believe it." Violet compressed her lips and kept her eyes fixed on the scene outside the window.

The sunshine of early spring blazed down on the range outside. The green grass disappeared before the viewer's eyes into the purple and blue of the horizon. A gust of wind sent ripples through the grass.

A split rail fence separated the yard in front of the ranch house from the open range beyond. A herd of cattle ambled by on the other side of the fence, and two or three figures on horseback rode among them and around them. They swung whips above their heads to keep the cattle moving, and a few scruffy dogs ran around barking at the cows' heels. Even through the window, Violet heard the shouts and whistles of the cattle punchers urging the animals forward.

Violet spotted one of the riders veer off and steer toward the fence. The figure swung down from the saddle, tied the horse to the fence, and climbed over it. Then the lanky rider strode across the yard toward the house.

What was the point of wasting her breath trying to convince Cornell of anything? Heaven knew she'd spent the better part of her life in the futile attempt. He never listened to anything from anyone. He only cared for his own opinion.

She hadn't relished the idea of contravening his desires by marrying a mail-order husband. She'd spent her life trying to please him. After her parents died, Cornell took over the management of Rocking Horse Ranch as well as the guardianship of Violet and her sisters. So Violet always treated him as a third parent. She never questioned his motives or his competence at handling their affairs.

But when he decided to arrange their marriages, Violet began to question her loyalty to Cornell. When she discussed the matter with her sisters, they agreed they wouldn't allow Cornell to determine the rest of their lives.

Violet heard a door slam somewhere in another part of the house, and the next moment, the library door opened, and a young woman entered. Her blonde hair hung free around her face, and her sun-kissed cheeks glowed with the flush of activity. Violet exchanged a knowing smile with her middle sister.

Chapter 2

Iris Kilburn wore beaten canvas trousers, a buckskin jacket fringed up the sleeves, and rawhide chaps down her legs. She didn't notice her tattered work boots leaving dusty footprints on the carpet. She carried a crumpled felt hat in hands covered by worn leather gloves,

Cornell glared at her. "Honestly, Iris, I've asked you to change out of your work clothes before you come into the house. Look, you're getting dust all over the place."

"I didn't change my clothes because I'm going right back out," Iris replied. "I only came in to ask Violet when she wants to leave for Butte. I'll change my clothes before we leave."

"You'll change your clothes before you leave for Butte," Cornell shot back. "But you won't change your clothes to keep the house clean."

"That's right," Iris replied. "When do you want to leave, Violet?"

"As soon as you're finished working," Violet replied. "I'm waiting for you. We should leave as soon as possible. We have to get to the train station in time to pick up the men and get home before dark. That doesn't give us much time."

"Is Rose ready to go?" Iris asked.

"As far as I know, she is." Violet looked around as if l searching for their youngest sister. "I haven't seen her yet this morning."

"All right." Iris headed back toward the door. "You hunt up Rose, and I'll put my horse away and change. Then we can leave."

"I suppose you're champing at the bit to get a mail-order husband, are you, Iris?" Cornell scoffed. "I didn't know you'd suddenly taken such an interest in men."

"I haven't taken a sudden interest in men," Iris replied. "Does it surprise you to learn that I've been interested in men all along? Well, I have. But I think Violet's plan for us to get mail-order husbands is a sensible one, and I'm willing to go along with it."

"And what exactly do you think is sensible about it?" Cornell asked.

"I've told you a million times, Cornell," Iris answered. "This ranch desperately needs men—and not the kind of men you'd pick for us. The ranch doesn't need any graduates of Eastern universities with specialties in politics or literature. It doesn't need the sons of railroad magnates or shipping tycoons. What this ranch needs—and badly—are cowboys. We need men who know how to work cattle and run a cattle ranch. That's what we need, and that's what we got. That's why I think it's sensible."

"This ranch doesn't need any more cowboys than it already has," Cornell argued. "We have Pete Kershaw and Wade Jackson. What else do we need? They do a good job, and the ranch is running fine. We don't need any cowboys."

"Pete is fifty, and Wade is pushing sixty," Iris shot back. "They can barely do the work now, and they'll only weaken further as they age."

"Nonsense!" Cornell spluttered. "You're exaggerating again, Iris."

"I've explained this to you so many times," Iris went on. "And you've ignored me and told me I'm a silly girl who should stick to my knitting. So I'm not going to waste my time going through it again. If you don't understand by now why we need cowboys, then you aren't going to understand it. I've given up on trying to convince you."

"I'll be the one to decide what this ranch needs," Cornell growled. "I know what goes on around this ranch a lot better than you do, Iris. You're a twenty-year-old girl with a lot of fanciful ideas that don't measure up on the ground. You would do well to leave the management of this ranch to me."

"I know your opinion perfectly well," Iris replied. "And right now, I have better things to do than argue with you about it. I'm going out to put my horse away. Then I'll change my clothes. Violet, you find Rose. By the time I finish changing, we should all be ready to go."

"Good," Violet exclaimed. "I'll get Rose. By the way, Iris, while you're out there, could you ask Pete to get the buggy hitched up for us? And we'll need three horses saddled for the men to ride home."

"I'll tell him." Iris disappeared out the door.

Cornell scowled at the door after she left. "That sister of yours will never make any man a good wife. She's too headstrong, and she doesn't understand a woman's role in the family. Look at her! She even has the temerity to wear pants! No man will put up with that. Whoever you got to be her mail-order husband will want her to stay at home and wear a dress the way a woman should."

"You don't know what Iris is made of," Violet told him. "You don't know what she does around here, or how valuable she is to this ranch."

"Oh, really?" Cornell asked. "Tell me, then. Tell me what she does, and what her value is to this ranch."

"I would, but she doesn't want me to." Violet sat up on her divan. "She's sworn me and Rose to secrecy. And that should give you some idea of how deeply you've hurt her with your comments about her clothes and her interest in men. You should be ashamed of yourself for treating her so badly."

"Ashamed of myself?" Cornell scoffed. "Treating her badly? I never did! I've never treated any of you girls badly in your lives. I've worked from dawn 'til dusk to make your lives as pleasant as possible, and this is the thanks I get for it!"

"If you really wanted to do the best for us," Violet declared. "You would listen to what we have to say. You might learn something you never thought you needed to know. Some of us know things even you don't, Cornell—especially Iris. And look, you're so pig-headed about things that poor little Rose won't even say a word to contradict you. She's that afraid of offending you."

"Pig-headed, am I?" Cornell fumed. "Since when am I pig-headed?"

"All the time," Violet shot back. "You won't listen to a word from anyone else. You won't take advice on what's going on with the ranch or what we need to do from Iris or anyone else. It's Cornell or nothing around here."

Cornell pulled his head down between his shoulders. "I should say it is Cornell or nothing around here. I'm your guardian and the executor of your estate. I'm responsible for administering the Kilburn family fortune. I would be remiss in my duty if I _did_ take advice from a little whip of a girl on how to run this ranch."

"You think all three of us are nothing more than little whips of girls," Violet remarked. "And to you, that's all we'll ever be. Well, one of these days, Cornell, you're going to wake up and realize just how wrong you are."

Cornell let his hands and his papers fall onto the desk in front of him. He stared at Violet. "What has gotten into you, Violet? You've always deferred to me in the past. You've always encouraged your sisters to follow my direction and my vision for the ranch. I don't understand what has induced you to attack me so blatantly now."

"I've always backed you before, Cornell," Violet agreed. "And now I'm not. I guess there's a first time for everything."

"But why?" Cornell asked. "Why now?"

Violet stood up and smoothed down the skirts of her dark brown dress. "I don't have time to discuss this any further right now. If you're still up when we get back from Butte, we can talk again then. But I'm telling you for the last time, Cornell, we won't discuss it in front of the men."

"But, Violet...." Cornell began.

Violet interrupted him. "And I'll tell you something else, Cornell. We won't discuss the advisability of my sisters and me marrying mail-order husbands _at all_ after the marriage service on Friday. Once we marry these men, you aren't to bring it up again—ever! Do you understand me?"

"But, Violet...." Cornell whimpered.

"I'm leaving now, Cornell. I'll see you for supper this evening. We should be back from Butte by then." Violet swept out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Chapter 3

Violet leaned her back against the wall in the passage just outside the library, her heart racing and her breath coming out in gasps. She'd never stood up to Cornell before or spoken to him in such an insolent manner.

She could only pray he'd be too shocked by her defiance to retaliate. No one could hold a grudge or repay it with more vindictive cruelty than Cornell Pollard. He acted defeated now, but he held all the purse strings on the sisters' lives.

He had the legal power and the financial interest, not to mention the vengeful spite, to disinherit all three of them for marrying without his permission. Violet certainly saw him do as bad, or worse, enough times in the past.

But she didn't have time to wait until she recovered. She hurried along the passage to the foot of the stairs to fetch her youngest sister, Rose. But she spotted Iris coming the other direction from the kitchen, still wearing her work clothes.

"I'm just on my way up to change," Iris told her.

Violet laughed. "What's the matter? Don't you want your fiancé to see you in your work clothes?"

Iris threw her hair back out of her eyes. "If he can't handle this, he won't be able to handle anything else about me. But he doesn't need to find out the sordid details when he lays eyes on me for the first time at the train station, does he?"

"Are you going to save that for your wedding night?" Violet asked.

Iris tilted her head to one side. "I don't know how I'll break it to him, but I'll have to do it gently and gradually. I don't think any man could understand the work I've done around here."

"I agree with you," Violet replied. "Cornell especially would probably lose his mind if he ever found out you were running the ranch behind his back. He knows you ride out with Pete and Wade, but he doesn't know you've been overriding all his instructions and making your own instead."

"We would all be out on the street, including Cornell, if I hadn't," Iris shot back.

"I understand that," Violet assured her. "But I think you've done the right thing keeping your activities a secret. You would probably do well to keep it a secret from your new husband, too."

Iris sighed. "I know you're right. Anyway, once the men get here and we all get married, they'll probably start running the ranch their own way. Then it won't matter what I did before they came. I might stop riding out with the cowboys altogether."

Violet smiled. "Somehow I doubt that. I don't see you giving up the reins so easily."

"I might have to," Iris pointed out. "If my new husband thinks I should stay home and mind the house, I'll have to do what he says, won't I?"

"Let's just hope that doesn't happen," Violet replied. "Let's hope all three of these men understand why you had to take over the ranch and are as grateful to you for what you've done as Rose and I are. If that happens, your mail-order husband will probably be glad to have you ride out and do the same work you're doing now."

"I hope you're right," Iris murmured. "I hope you're right, for the sake of the ranch, because three cowboys aren't going to be able to run this operation by themselves. They'll need Pete and Wade working with them, and even five cowboys will be hard pressed to bring our herd to the sale yards come the end of the summer. They'll need me working with them to do the job right."

"Then we'll just have to break the news to your fiancé gently," Violet replied.

"And it isn't just him, you know," Iris continued. "The other two will have to agree to it as well. Even if my husband consents to me working the cattle, I still won't be able to do it if your husband and Rose's husband don't want me there. Some men won't ride with a woman, no matter how good she is or how much they need her help. All three will have to understand and agree."

"Then let's just hope for the best," Violet told her.

"It isn't just me that has to worry about how the men will react, either," Iris remarked. "How do you think your husband will take it when he finds out _you've_ been running the ranch behind Cornell's back?"

"That's different," Violet replied. "I haven't been doing anything any other woman would do. I've only kept the house. That's a woman's work."

"Maybe, " Iris admitted. "But you're still overriding Cornell's orders. You decide what food Rita cooks, you decide how much firewood we use to heat the house, and you manage all the other domestic affairs. You even keep the books. If Cornell ever found out, he'd be a lot angrier at you than he would be to find out I managed the livestock. He prides himself on running this place without any interference from any of us."

Violet touched her fingers to her lips. "I know. I dread the day he finds out."

"You shouldn't," Iris told her. "You should be proud of what you've done. You've done an excellent job keeping all of us fed and clothed and warmed in spite of Cornell's efforts to impoverish us."

"It's not as bad as that," Violet insisted.

"Yes, it is, and you know it," Iris retorted. "Not only have you run the ranch and managed our affairs with masterful efficiency, you've kept Cornell in the dark the whole time. You've kept him blissfully unaware of your activities, so he's happy about what he's doing. He even thinks you're his strongest ally around the ranch. I'd say that's a pretty big achievement."

"It might be an achievement," Violet replied. "But I still don't want him knowing about it. Can you imagine what he would do if he found out I kept one set of accounts for the house and another, false set just for him. I shudder to think about it. Even you don't want him finding out what you're up to."

"I sure don't," Iris admitted. "I feel exactly the same way. I only hope our husbands understand when they find out. Aren't you at all concerned about that?"

"Sure, I'm concerned about it," Violet replied. "What if they think we're liars and frauds for deceiving Cornell? But what alternative did we have? To let Cornell squander our estate? I don't think so."

"Somehow, I think the men will understand," Iris declared. "I think when they find out the truth, they will take our side against Cornell. They'll agree with us and help us to get back control of the ranch."

"Either way," Violet pointed out. "There's no sense worrying about it now. We have to get going to pick the men up from Butte. Get upstairs and change your clothes. I have to go to the kitchen to give Rita some instructions for later tonight, and I'll go upstairs and get Rose. We can talk about this more on the trip down to town."

Chapter 4

Iris ran up the stairs with her fringe flying, and Violet went to the kitchen to hunt up Rita, the cook. She found the kitchen empty, and after a quick glance into the scullery and the pantry, gave up the search. She had no time to look for the older woman before they left for Butte.

She checked the fire in the big iron stove and added more wood to it. She peeked into the oven and found the haunch of beef roasting for their supper. She basted it with the juice in the pan and turned it around on the rack to brown on the other side.

On the lower rack in the oven, she checked the plum cake for doneness. Then she shut the oven door and trimmed the vents on the stove. Rita wouldn't be too far away. She would come back to the kitchen from wherever she was and finish cooking supper before the sisters came back.

Satisfied with the preparations for their mail-order husbands' arrival, Violet hurried upstairs. On the upper landing, she turned down the hall to the row of bedrooms at the back of the house. She knocked at the last door at the end of the landing and pushed it open without waiting for an answer.

Rose sat at her dressing table. She gazed into the mirror but didn't see herself. She often fell into a reverie in front of the mirror, seeing nothing but the passage of images in her own mind. An outsider might consider Rose intolerably vain for the time she spent in front of her mirror, apparently admiring herself. But this was simply Rose's way of thinking about things.

Rose snapped out of her trance when Violet entered the room. "Oh, you're here. Are you and Iris ready to go?"

"I am," Violet replied. "Iris is changing her clothes. Pete is hitching up the buggy for us, and then we'll go. Are you ready?"

"Yes." Rose pushed back her stool and crossed the room to her bed, where she picked up a satin shawl from the foot rail of the iron bedstead. "Shall we go down?"

"Just a moment, Rose." Violet laid a hand on her sister's arm. "I want to talk to you about something before we go down. Here, sit down next to me." Violet pulled Rose down onto the edge of the bed.

Rose's eyes flew open. "What is it?"

"I just had a confrontation with Cornell about this whole mail-order husband business," Violet explained. "So he's a little bit emotional about it. You know he doesn't approve of our plan."

"Yes, I know," Rose replied.

"I just want to make sure you don't have any second thoughts about our plan," Violet continued. "If any of us weakens, Cornell will attack, and the whole plan will fall apart. All three of us have to be firm in our resolve to go through with our marriages."

Rose stared at her eldest sister with wide black eyes. Violet saw her sister as a delicate fawn, blinking her soft, innocent eyes at a world of danger she couldn't understand. But Rose was no innocent fawn. Even at the tender age of eighteen, she understood danger better than anyone could guess, and under her soft, gentle exterior beat a heart of iron.

Rose would never waver on their agreement to marry mail-order husbands. If anyone second-guessed the plan, it was Violet herself. Her own loyalty to Cornell and her long history of complying with his wishes made her the most vulnerable link in their armor.

"You know I won't weaken, Violet," Rose assured her. "You know I agree with you and Iris on why we need to do this. If Cornell asks me, I'll tell him so. You know you can count on me, Violet."

"I know I can." Violet patted her sister's arm, but in her heart, she shuddered. In spite of all her assurances, Violet never fully trusted Rose. Her young mind seethed with secret thoughts and schemes. She noticed every nuance of every face around her at all times. Yet she knew how to tell people exactly what they wanted to hear in order to get what she wanted.

Rose kept Cornell wrapped around her little finger. Cornell would never doubt Rose's sincerity about anything. Cornell would never accuse Rose of disloyalty or foolishness, because Rose would never tell Cornell her real plans.

When Cornell asked Rose about her agreement with Violet's mail-order husband arrangement, Rose assuaged his concerns with flattery and declarations of her own helplessness. She spun the wool over his eyes until he lost the ability to accuse her of anything more than falling under her sisters' influence.

Violet didn't like being forced to count on Rose but the three sisters had to form a united front against Cornell to bring this triple marriage to fruition. Their future and their fortune depended on it.

"I know I can count on you," Violet squeezed Rose's hand and moved back toward the door. "Now let's go down and see if the buggy's ready. Cornell is in the library, so we can go out through the kitchen, and we won't see him."

Rose smiled at Violet, and they went downstairs together. Violet glanced right and left when they reached the passage, but Rose didn't give the surroundings the slightest consideration. She followed Violet to the kitchen, where they pinned on their hats before going out into the yard.

The small yard separated the kitchen from the barn, and in the yard, they found Iris just about to get up into the driver's seat of the covered buggy. Two horses stood between the shafts, while three others waited behind the vehicle, fully saddled and bridled.

Iris's attire couldn't have differed more from her work clothes if she'd been a completely different person. She wore a gingham dress checked in beige and white. Crisp white cotton gloves covered her hands, and a feathered hat perched on top of the pile of hair on her head.

When she spotted her sisters, Iris stepped up into the driver's seat and took the reins. Violet handed Rose up into the back seat. Then she sat up front next to Iris. Iris clucked to the horses and drove the buggy away from the ranch house with the three saddled horses trotting easily behind it. The three sisters rode past the wide ranges with herds of cattle grazing, past a few other houses, barns, and outbuildings, and at last, hit the road leading out to the highway.

Chapter 5

Though they rode alone, the sisters kept silent until they passed underneath the big wooden sign over their front gate that read Rocking Horse Ranch. Violet didn't like to break the silence at all. She would have ridden all the way to Butte with only her thoughts for company.

But this mail-order husband plan was her idea, and the sisters should go over their strategy one last time before they met their men at the train station. But how to broach the subject? Rose and Iris approached the business from such radically different points of view. Whatever Violet said would ring amiss with one of them.

Violet sighed. "Cornell sure is in a dither about this, I can tell you."

"You shouldn't concern yourself so much with what Cornell thinks," Iris told her. "He would work himself up into a dither no matter what we did as long as we did anything other than lie down and obey him. That's the only thing he understands or cares about. You know that, Violet."

"I just don't like making him so upset," Violet replied. "He's taken good care of us these last fifteen years. We should be grateful to him for that."

"He might have taken good care of us in the last fifteen years," Iris acknowledged, "but he sure isn't taking good care of us now, not with the way he's letting the ranch go."

"I still find it hard to believe he would let it get so bad without realizing it." Violet remarked.

"Do you want to know something?" Iris replied. "I think he refuses to change his stance on the ranch because I'm the one who brought it to his attention. If I'd kept my mouth shut and let him figure out for himself that the ranch was in trouble, he would have done something about it long ago. He's letting the ranch go out of spite because I presumed to tell him how to run his business. That's what I think."

"I just can't believe that," Violet exclaimed. "It isn't like him at all."

"Would you rather believe he's grossly incompetent?" Iris asked. "Would you rather think he's befuddled on account of his age, or that he's just too short-sighted to realize the ranch is in danger?"

"In danger?" Violet repeated. "Is it really in danger? I don't think you ever put it like that before."

"I told you already," Iris replied. "The ranch can't go another year the way it is. We have five thousand head of cattle and two cowboys, and those two cowboys are aging fast. If we don't get these mail-order husbands, we won't have enough hands to bring the stock to the sale yards in the autumn."

"And then what will happen?" Violet asked.

"We don't have enough range to feed them all over the winter," Iris told her. "If we don't bring them to the sale yards, then come the spring, we'll have nothing and they'll starve to death. So you see, we need cowboys, and we need them now. Cornell refuses to hire any more hands. This marriage plan of yours is our only hope."

"Oh, heavens!" Violet gasped`. "You told us it was bad, but I didn't realize it was as bad as that. If that's the case, I'm glad we have this mail-order situation well on the way to completion. We don't have a moment to lose."

"That's what I told you," Iris maintained. "I only hope we can keep Cornell at bay long enough to marry these men."

"I hope they're the cowboys we need them to be," Violet added. "I would hate to get them home and get married to them and find out later that they can't do the job we need them to do."

Iris shot Violet a sidelong look. "I'm sure they will be. We have their letters telling us their experience and their backgrounds. It sounds to me like they are competent cowboys. At least, the one I'm marrying is."

"Mine is, too." Violet took a folded paper out of the cuff of her sleeve and opened it. "Listen to this. 'Dear Miss Kilburn, I trust this letter finds you well. I am just getting on the train in Santa Fe, on my way to you. Who knows, but I may see you before you get this letter. I have been working on a ranch down here near Jemez Springs, and we have just finished the spring branding. How are you getting on with yours?' Do you hear that, Iris? How are we getting on with the spring branding?"

"We haven't done any spring branding," Iris grumbled. "I told you, we don't have enough people to do it. Who is this mystery man, anyway?"

"I told you before," Violet replied. "His name is Chuck Ahern. He's twenty-five years old, and he's from Pecos, Texas. He's been working all over the Southwest on ranches like ours. He's even worked as manager on a few of them. He's exactly what we're looking for."

"That's good," Iris declared. "What else does he have to say?"

Violet read the rest of the letter. "Your ranch sounds really nice, and I can't wait to see it. Also I look forward to meeting your sisters. They sound like nice people, and the Fort House sounds like the perfect place to stay until we can get married."

"You told him about the Fort House?" Iris asked. "What did you do that for?"

"Well, I couldn't very well agree to have him stay in the main house, could I?" Violet folded the letter and put it back inside her sleeve. "I had to explain where he and the other men would stay between their arrival on the train and the wedding on Friday. He couldn't stay in the main house with us. I'm surprised at you, Iris. Didn't you tell your groom he'd be staying in the Fort House with the others?"

"No," Iris replied. "We never discussed that. He left all the arrangements to me."

Violet laughed. "Well, what did you talk about? Don't tell me you spent all your time discussing ranch business. That would be just like you."

"We didn't spend _all_ our time discussing ranch business," Iris shot back. "But I can tell you I made sure he knew his way around a ranch. He wouldn't be much good to us if he didn't. You and Rose can get all romantic with your men if you want to. We're getting them in to work the ranch, and I'm making sure mine can, even if you won't."

"So what _do_ you know about him?" Violet asked. "What do you know, besides that he can work the ranch?"

Iris blushed. "I'm not going to read our private letters to you, if that's what you're after."

"What?" Violet exclaimed. "I just read you one of mine."

"I don't care what you did," Iris snapped. "I never asked you to read the letter. You did that off your own bat. My letters with Mick McAllister are my private business. I'm not sharing them with you or anyone else. So there!"

"Well, at least tell us something about him," Violet told her. "We have to know something about who we're meeting at the station."

"He's a cowboy," Iris replied. "What more do you want to know? He's from Yuma, Arizona. He has a twin brother somewhere in Georgia, and he's a bronc buster in the rodeo. He's worked on cattle ranches and cattle drives since he was fourteen years old, and he's twenty-three years old. What more do you want to know? No, wait. Don't ask that, because I don't know anymore."

"Well, there isn't much there to let us know how he'll react to you running the ranch," Violet observed. "He could be a real redneck, for all you know."

"I'll be married to him, one way or the other," Iris shot back. "It's a little bit late to question him about his attitude toward women."

"Didn't you ask him anything about it in your letter?" Violet asked.

"Of course not!" Iris exclaimed. "I didn't want to frighten him off marrying me. Anyway, if he objects to me working the ranch, I'll just have to stop. The only reason I began punching cattle in the first place is because we had no cowboys to do the job. Once we marry these men, there will be no reason for me to do it anymore."

"But didn't you tell me before," Violet pointed out. "That they'll need you on the cattle drive at the end of the season?"

"They'll need someone," Iris corrected her. "If they don't want to take me, they might decide to hire some other men instead. By that time, we'll be able to afford them, because when the cattle drive ends, we'll have the money from the sales to pay them. Once we have a decent cattle drive, the ranch will be making a profit again, and we won't have to worry about the odd expense here and there."

"I sure hope you're right about all this," Violet exclaimed. "All our futures are riding on your opinion of what's best for the ranch."

"I _am_ right about this," Iris declared. "I'll just be glad when these men get here and take over. Everything will be all right once that happens."

"What about you, Rose?" Violet asked. "What do you know about your groom?"

"His name is Jacob Hamilton," Rose replied. "I know he's been working on ranches down in Texas. He traveled up here from San Antonio. But I don't know much else about him."

"Don't you know how old he is?" Violet asked.

"No, I don't," Rose admitted.

"But he could be old," Violet pointed out. "He could be forty or fifty. Didn't you at least ask him?"

"No, I didn't," Rose replied.

Chapter 6

Something in Rose's tone struck Violet as odd, and she glanced over her shoulder at her youngest sister. Instead of facing forward, listening to their conversation with keen attention, Rose stared off at the countryside outside the buggy. The same dreamy expression haunted her eyes.

Violet shuddered. She expected Rose to eavesdrop on their conversation and inform Cornell about their complaints. That would be just like Rose to play both sides of the fence. Instead, Rose gazed at the scenery with her head in the clouds, seeing nothing in front of her. Didn't she care enough to listen to her sisters' conversation? Didn't she care enough about the future of the ranch to form an opinion about its management?

Violet barely discussed the merits of mail-order husbands with Rose to win her consent to the plan. Rose barely listened to her arguments at all. She flatly agreed to everything Violet suggested, right down to the methods they should employ to deal with Cornell. Her compliance irked Violet more than anything. She preferred Iris's rebelliousness to Rose's bland, empty submission.

Except it wasn't submission, was it? Rose might say 'yes' to everything, but she kept her true feelings and opinions secret. The comforting thing about Iris was, no matter how forcefully she disagreed with you, you always knew exactly where she stood and what she thought. She never minced her words keeping anything to herself. When you dealt with Iris, you got one hundred percent Iris or nothing at all. Violet never doubted Iris for a minute.

No matter what Rose said, even when she agreed with you, you always doubted her. You never knew what she thought or felt or heard or believed because regardless of what she said, she always kept something back. She smiled sweetly, and agreed to everything anyone asked of her gently and easily, so you hated yourself for doubting her. You couldn't question her. She only smiled more sweetly than ever and fill your head full of butterflies and bunny rabbits.

Like now, for instance. Rose said she didn't ask Jacob Hamilton his age, but Violet couldn't question her about anything else she knew about her prospective groom. Rose would only find a polite way of making Violet feel guilty for prying into her personal business.

Violet went back to her solid, reassuring conversation with Iris. "Anyway, we'll put all three of them in the Fort House. That will keep them out of Cornell's hair until Friday. The less the three of them have to do with him, the better."

"And what comes after Friday?" Iris asked.

Violet started. "What do you mean?"

"Where will all of us live after the wedding on Friday?" Iris asked. "Don't tell me all three of our couples will live in the main house. I, for one, won't think of it. Once I'm married, I'm going to live somewhere else."

"Where will you go?" Violet asked.

"I don't know," Iris replied. "But I won't live with the rest of you in the main house, that's for certain. I've lived with you and Rose all my life, and once I get married, I'm living somewhere else."

"But where?" Violet asked.

"I don't know," Iris repeated. "Maybe Mick and I can go live in the Fort House. If you and Chuck and Rose and Jacob stay in the main house together, the Fort House will be free."

Violet nearly jumped out of her skin when Rose chimed in from the back seat. "I don't want to live with anyone else in the main house, either." So she _was_ listening. A chill raced down Violet's back. What else had Rose heard that she never let on about?

"Well, that isn't going to work, is it?" Violet complained. "There aren't three separate houses. We can't all just go off and live alone with our new husbands."

"I am," Iris declared. "I don't care what anyone says. We're living alone. Cornell is around the main house all day, every day. And whichever of you stays there will be there, too. I need somewhere I can go to get away from the main house, and once we're married, Mick and I will want privacy. We'll take the Fort House. You and Rose can fight over the main house."

"There's the Bird House," Rose put in. "But Cornell lives there."

"But once we get married," Iris pointed out, "Cornell won't be our guardian and our executor anymore. Our fortunes will pass to our husbands. Maybe Cornell won't live at the Bird House anymore."

"I can't believe this!" Violet gasped. "You can't be thinking of turning Cornell out, not after he's lived at the Bird House and shared our lives all these years."

"Everything has to come to an end," Rose pointed out. "If he isn't our guardian and our executor anymore, he has no business at the ranch or in the Bird House. His duty is discharged."

"Discharged!" Violet repeated. "You can't be serious! He's like a parent to us."

"He might be like a parent to you," Iris shot back. "But to me, he's an obstacle. We're getting rid of that obstacle by getting married. Once all three of us are married and our husbands are running the ranch, Cornell is better off somewhere else. He can only cause trouble around the ranch."

"I can't believe you would be so heartless, Iris," Violet exclaimed.

"And I can't believe," Iris replied. "That Cornell would let the ranch—which, by the way, is our inheritance, and not his property at all, although he certainly acts like it is his—that he would let it fall into ruin through his own stubborn idiocy. If we have to get mail-order husbands to save the ranch from his mismanagement, then he should be sent packing with extreme prejudice."

Violet was just about to protest again when Rose piped up. "And then Jacob and I could live at the Bird House. Violet, you and Chuck can live in the main house."

******

Violet couldn't believe what she was hearing. Iris and Rose weren't conspiring to get rid of Cornell, were they? They couldn't! They wouldn't! They daren't! Or was it only Violet who daren't make a move against Cornell?

And what would their new husbands say about Cornell? They certainly wouldn't want Cornell around, not after they got their hands on the fabulous Kilburn family fortune. How much did the three men know about their future wives' wealth? Violet dared not ask her sisters how much they revealed to their fiancés in their letters. Nor did she tell them what she wrote to Chuck Ahern about their family fortunes.

One thing was sure, once the three men married the sisters, they couldn't control the estate as completely as Cornell did. A single man could do as he pleased with the funds and property at his disposal, and his wards could do nothing to stop him. Three men, joined for life to the three heiresses, would at least have to work together to make the ranch into a thriving, profitable enterprise again. None of them would possess a controlling share over any of the others.

Violet put the idea of Cornell's future as far out of her mind as she could. Was that the reason Cornell protested so loudly against these mail-order marriages? Then again, he suggested other potential grooms for the sisters all the time. He wanted them to get married—only to men of his own choosing. Their fortunes would pass out of his hands, regardless of who they married.

Maybe Cornell just tried to hide his uncertainty under a bluster of wounded propriety. Maybe he used his position as their guardian to protest their marriages to hide the fact that he didn't want to be turned out of house and home. No one would want that.

Violet rode the rest of the journey to Butte in silence, and her sisters obliged her. The last thing in the world she wanted to hear was her sisters plotting to dump Cornell. Anyway, she had other things to think about to take her mind off it.

The wedding celebration on Friday, for instance. Violet told Rita, the ranch cook, what foods to prepare and what cake to bake for the luncheon to follow the wedding service. She went to great pains to match her sisters' wedding dresses with the decorations she planned for the house. She would talk to Iris about giving Pete and Wade the day off work.

Before she knew it, Violet saw the town of Butte in the distance. It wasn't much to look at. Most Montana towns barely distinguished themselves from the scrubby rangeland from whence they sprang. You could barely see them until you practically ran into the wall of the first building. The weathered boards took on the same desolate grayish-tan color as everything else in this territory.

Only the mountains struck a breath-taking contrast. You couldn't turn around without catching your breath at their imposing grandeur. They thrust their magnetic presence into your awareness at every hour of the day. You couldn't get away from them. You kept seeing them even when you closed your eyes.

If Butte wasn't much to look at, it was even less to experience. As much as Violet looked forward to getting off the ranch and into town, Butte disappointed. The haberdashers' shop carried barely enough thread and other sewing notions to make a complete dress, and the dry goods store often ran out of essential staples like flour and salt.

No amount of complaints to any shopkeeper in town improved the service. They just didn't care. They knew very well they provided the only service of their kind anywhere in the territory. You could shop with them or go without, and they knew it.

The only businesses in town with enough competition to provide decent variety were the saloons. Butte had four—one in the hotel, one in the whorehouse, one at the billiard hall, and one at the distillery on the road out of town. All four stayed busy day and night, what with cowboys and railroad men and drifters and rich cattlemen coming into town for a bit of diversion. The saloons did a roaring trade in mayhem, gun fights, broken glass, and replacement tables and chairs from the local carpenters.

Violet knew all about the saloons from driving past them on trips to town. You couldn't set foot in Butte without seeing or hearing some brawl or drunken sing-a-long coming from one of them. The Kilburn sisters drove past them without looking right or left.

This time, Iris had a different idea. Because they were going to the train station and not into the town itself, Iris turned off around the barn and stables behind the hotel. She circumvented the town completely and drove right up to the station without passing a single saloon. Iris reined the horses in front of the station, but the train wasn't there anymore.

Violet patted Iris on the arm. "Well done. We'll have to remember that when we come into town next time." She glanced at the station. "It looks like we missed the train."

The three sisters alighted from the buggy. A few stray passengers milled around the station porch. "The three of them must have gotten off here. Didn't we all tell them we'd be here to pick them up? Let's ask around. Maybe someone knows where they are."

"But," Violet pointed out. "They aren't likely to know each other. They aren't likely to be together, wherever they are."

"We can only ask," Iris replied. "I'm sure we'll find them somewhere." She turned to the nearest man, who leaned against the station door, watching the three women and listening to their conversation. "Excuse me. We're looking for some people who got off the train from Salt Lake City."

The man cocked his head. "Well, that's just about all the people you see here. Every one of us got off the train an hour and a half ago. Don't you see the people you're looking for?"

Iris flushed, and Violet stepped in. "The men we're meeting are strangers to us. I mean, we don't exactly know what they look like. One of them is named Chuck Ahern, and one of them is named Mick McAllister, and the other is Jacob Hamilton."

"Well, then, you're in luck," the man returned. "I'm Chuck Ahern."

Chapter 7

"Oh!" The blood rushed to Violet's cheeks. For a moment, she floundered in confusion. Then she burst out laughing. Chuck stared at her as if she'd lost her senses. Finally she composed herself enough to extend her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Ahern. I'm Violet Kilburn."

"Oh!" Chuck went beet red, opened his mouth and closed it again, glanced around, and opened his mouth again. Finally, he burst out laughing, too. He took her hand. "Call me Chuck. If you call me Mr. Ahern, I probably won't know who you're talking about."

He and Violet shook hands, still laughing at themselves. When they eventually let go of one another's hands, they stepped back and regarded each other. Chuck stood as tall as Violet, and his square shoulders filled out his clean cotton shirt. His wore a gun belt around the hips of his denim pants, and the unmistakable band of spur straps marked the tops of his boots. A thick mustache covered his upper lip, but the rest of his face was clean-shaven and smooth.

His light brown eyes cut through Violet's embarrassment. She didn't look around to see if Iris evaluated Chuck the same way she had, but she knew this man was exactly what Rocking Horse Ranch needed. Everything about him screamed cowboy.

"Did you have a pleasant journey?" Violet asked.

"Good enough," Chuck replied. "It's pretty boring, you know, but you can't complain. The only other way to travel is to ride a horse, and I wouldn't want to do that all the way up here from Santa Fe."

"You must be tired." Violet wrenched her eyes away from him and peered around at her sisters. "We'll find the others and get you back to the ranch. As I told you, we have a spare house you men will stay in until the wedding service on Friday. You can rest up there and get your bearings. I hope that arrangement still suits you."

"Suits me fine," Chuck replied. "I won't be sorry to stop traveling for a while."

"Well, then, we'll just find the others...." Violet trailed off. She and her sisters glanced around at the other passengers on the platform.

How should they go about finding the other two men? Nothing remained but to ask the nearest person, as they did with Chuck, and hope for luck.

But Chuck cut them off. "Mick McAllister's inside the station, talking to the station master." The three sisters jumped with surprise. "And Jake Hamilton is over there, in the hotel saloon."

"How do you know?" Iris cried. "We didn't think you three knew each other."

"We didn't," Chuck told her. "We got talkin' on the train. You know how it is. We're all in the same business of punchin' cattle, so you fall in with others like you. There's nothin' else to do on the train for days at a time. That, and after a while, you begin to notice which people are going the same direction as you. Anyway, we got talkin', and we figured it out. Took a while, but we figured it out."

"Well, that makes it easier for us, doesn't it?" Violet remarked. "Thank you very much....Chuck." She broke into another fit of giggling. His name sounded so strange in her mouth. Even after months of corresponding with him by mail, saying his name out loud gave her a queer little tingle. "Now we won't have to go hunting for them."

The noise of a scuffle drew their attention toward the station. The door flew open, and two men locked in a tight embrace exploded out of the station and bowled over into the dirt at their feet. As soon as they hit the ground, they fell into a mighty struggle to drive each other to the ground. Violet cried out in horror at the conflict, but Chuck and the other bystanders simply watched the two men fighting in the dirt.

Just when one man got the better of the other, the man on the bottom rallied and flipped his opponent over to regain the upper hand. They reversed positions two or three times before the larger of the two fought his way onto the top of the other. He delivered a decisive blow to his rival's midsection, which knocked the wind out of him, and then another to the side of his jaw. This last blow dazed the other man enough to give the victor time to consolidate his advantage by sitting on top of his opponent.

He straddled his fallen enemy on his knees and punched him repeatedly in the face. Sweat and saliva flew from both men's faces, and before very long, the man on the bottom lay motionless with blood leaking out of his nose.

The victor stopped hitting his victim and stared at his senseless form, panting and sweating. At last, he dragged himself to his feet and loomed over the body, his fists still clenched at his sides. He glared around him at the onlookers, his teeth bared between curled lips. "He stole my wallet," he growled.

So saying, he bent down and ransacked the fallen man's pockets until he pulled out a folded leather wallet. He waved it at the spectators and stuffed it into his own trouser pocket.

Most of the people standing around the train station turned back to their own business then, and the man relaxed his posture somewhat. Violet stared in horror at the ogre, but her horror reached a peak of dismay when Chuck announced, "This is Mick McAllister."

Now that he stood upright in front of them, Violet saw him clearly for the first time. She saw a very tall, sturdy man with sharp, angular features and a sun-bleached Stetson hat over his close-cut blonde hair. He walked away from his victim and toward the Kilburn sisters. His clear blue eyes surveyed the platform to the right and to the left with the quick superiority of command before he turned toward Chuck Ahern.

One more glance showed him who the women were. "These them?" he asked Chuck. Without waiting for a reply, he stuck out his hand to Violet. "I'm Mick McAllister."

Violet shook off her shock and returned his handshake. Sweat squeezed out between her fingers when Mick gripped her hand. "I'm Violet Kilburn. This," she nodded toward her sister "This is Iris."

Iris extended her gloved hand to Mick. "Good afternoon." Mick shook her hand with a curt nod, but both he and Iris blushed and stole shy peeks at each other. Iris couldn't approve of this street-brawling brute as her mail-order cowboy, could she?

Violet took charge. "Now if we can find Mr. Hamilton, we can get on our way. Hopefully we can get home before dark."

"Why don't you ladies walk over to the hotel and find him?" Chuck suggested. "Mick and me will load our luggage onto your...is this your buggy?"

"Yes," Violet replied. "You can put everything on the rack in the back. And there will be room next to Rose in the back seat, too. Are you men happy to ride back to the ranch? It's a long way but there just isn't room in the buggy for all of us."

"That'll be fine with me," Chuck told her.

"Me, too," Mick chimed in. "It'll be good to get back in the saddle after being on the train all this time." He glanced back at Iris, and she blushed and smiled again.

"Good, then," Violet declared. "We'll head over to the hotel and bring Jacob back. We'll meet back here at the buggy."

The sisters started across the street toward the hotel, and Violet fell in step next to Rose. "Are you all right, darling? You're not too concerned about meeting your groom, are you?"

"I'm not concerned at all," Rose replied. "Why would I be concerned?"

"I just thought you might think the worst," Violet explained. "When they told us he was over in the hotel saloon. I thought you might worry that he was...." Violet faltered.

"Was what?" Rose asked.

Rose's big limpid eyes threw Violet into confusion, and she lost the sense of what she wanted to say. She flapped her hand. "Oh, I don't know. He might be drinking or carousing or gambling. You know!"

"I don't think there's much likelihood of that," Rose replied.

"I just didn't want you to be worried," Violet repeated. "After all, he could be fighting in there like...." Violet stopped herself in time.

"You mean, like Mick?" Rose asked. "No, I'm not worried."

Violet let the matter drop, but she couldn't banish her first glimpse of Mick McAllister from her mind.

The sisters walked around the corner to the hotel and peeked into the saloon. About ten men occupied the big room, some leaning against the bar, some playing billiards, and some just chatting with each other. All but two wore the typical uniform of the Western cowboy, with heavy canvas pants, wide-brimmed hats, and boots. Nothing distinguished one from another enough to determine which man they sought.

Chapter 8

Violet hesitated at the swinging doors. "What do you want to do?"

"We'll just have to go in and find him," Rose declared.

"Go in....in _there_?" Violet shuddered. "I don't think I want to do that."

"How else are we going to find him?" Rose asked.

"I'll go in with you," Iris told Rose.

"You're not going in _there_ , are you?" Violet gasped.

"Why not?" Iris looked into the saloon over the tops of the doors. "What's wrong?"

"The place is full of men," Violet explained. "There could be trouble."

"What's wrong?" Iris asked again. "They're only cowboys. They won't hurt us. Come on, Rose." The two younger sisters pushed the doors aside and strode inside.

Violet hesitated just a moment longer, and then she hurried after her sisters.

Rose and Iris walked up to the bar. Several of the men eyed them as they passed, and when they arrived at the front of the room, the bartender laughed out loud. "What can I do for you ladies?"

"We're looking for a man who just got off the train from Salt Lake City," Rose told him. "We were told he was here. His name is Jacob Hamilton."

"Don't know him," the bartender shot back. "Can't help ya."

"I'm Jacob Hamilton." The voice came from behind them, but it sounded soft and timid.

The sisters turned around, and only a mighty effort prevented Violet from gasping in surprise at what she saw.

The man facing them was small and slight, almost as small as Rose herself. Far from the hard-wearing work clothes the cowboys wore, Jacob Hamilton wore a tailored black suit, snakeskin boots, and a dark red velvet waistcoat under his jacket. His brand-new black velvet hat covered dark hair combed back over his ears and curling up at the back of his neck. His black mustache swept away from his lips and pointed out toward the side of his face.

His black eyes twinkled across the faces of the sisters until they finally rested on Rose. He smiled at her. "You can call me Jake. Everyone does."

Rose blinked her wide eyes and smiled back. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I hope the journey wasn't too trying."

"Not at all," Jake replied. "I enjoy travel. It's good to see other parts of the country."

He and Rose kept smiling at each other as Violet struggled to hide her distress. This wasn't the cowboy they hoped for. Jake Hamilton looked more like a professional gambler or bank employee. He didn't even look old enough to be in this saloon. He looked all of fifteen at the most. Why, he didn't even wear a gun belt! What good would this tiny, innocent dandy be to them on the ranch?

Violet exchanged looks with Iris but from the very first moment, Rose and Jake only had eyes for each other. They took no notice at all when Violet said, "Shall we get back to the buggy and head home? Jake, I hope you don't mind riding a horse with the others. There's only room for four in the buggy."

Jake didn't take his eyes off Rose's face. "In that case, I'll ride next to Rose."

Violet spun into a flurry of confusion. She couldn't stop her mouth from working of its own accord. "Oh, that's just fine! I didn't think of that, but it makes so much sense. I'm sure the others won't mind."

"I'm sure they won't," Jake replied.

Jake waved his hand toward the door to usher the sisters out of the saloon, but a gnarled, callused hand clapped him on the back and a harsh male voice bellowed from behind him, "Hey, Mister Fancy Pants, I'm talkin' to you!"

Jake turned around and faced an enormous man nearly twice his size. Jake's head barely reached as high as the big man's chest. The two looked comical standing next to each other. Jake's crisp clean suit made a striking contrast with the other man's dusty worn work clothes. Even standing at a distance from him, Violet noticed the bulging knuckles on the big man's hands and the polished leather of his gun belt. His hair stuck out in tufts under his hat, and black dirt encrusted his fingernails.

He had to stoop to get into Jake's face. "I was talkin' to you, Mister. Don't you turn your back on me!"

"I'm engaged with these ladies here, if you don't mind," Jake returned. "We're just about to leave, so if you'll excuse me, I'll bid you good day." He touched the brim of his hat and moved to turn away again.

"I don't think so," the big man thundered. "I was in the middle of telling you I could lick you any day of the week for insulting my brother over there."

Jake's eyes flashed and he shifted his shoulders inside his jacket. "You were in the middle of telling me that, but you can't lick me and I have more important business to attend to. So unless you have some idea of stopping me, I'll go now." He nodded once and looked away toward the door.

The big man jabbed Jake in the chest with his thick sausage of a finger. "You're not goin' anywhere until I've had my say, Mister. If you don't apologize to my brother over there, you'll answer to me and suffer the consequences."

Jake narrowed his eyes. "I won't apologize to him or to you or to anyone, other than these ladies here for your wretched manners. What do you propose to do to me? You think you can lick a man half your weight? You're a bully and a coward, but I invite you to try. You think you can beat me in a gun fight? As you can see, I'm unarmed. But if you wait until I get my guns strapped on, they'll be hauling your rotten carcass to the graveyard in a quarter of an hour. Now which would you prefer?"

The giant stooped even lower, and the puffs of breath from his ragged mouth ruffled the hair on the side of Jake's face. "You'll be sorry for this, you fancy-pants...."

He didn't finish his sentence. With one swift movement, Jake brought his fist up hard under the large man's chin. His teeth clacked together and his head whipped back on his neck. His eyes fluttered in his skull, and he crashed to the ground in a cloud of dust.

The other patrons of the saloon turned around to see the commotion, but it ended as soon as it started. Jake studied the remains of his opponent at his feet, dusted off his hands, and turned back to the Kilburn sisters. "Ladies?" He waved toward the door again.

Violet whirled away to hide her embarrassment. So Jake Hamilton wasn't innocent after all. He was as much of a brute as Mick McAllister. Was her own mail-order husband the only one of the three worth taking home?

What if Cornell was right? What if this whole enterprise exploded in their faces and they lived to regret getting these men to come live on the ranch? After Friday, they'd be married to these men, two of whom appeared to be violent scoundrels. In addition to being violent, Jake could be anything from a drunken dissipate or a dangerous villain. Chuck Ahern was the only one of the three Violet wanted around the ranch.

Iris fell in at her side on the way back to the train station, and Rose and Jake walked after them, side by side. Violet kept her ear tuned to hear their conversation but to her amazement, they didn't speak to each other at all. Once they reached the street outside, she stole a glance over her shoulder and found them still gazing into one another's eyes, but without speaking. The same shy smile played across both their faces.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Violet recognized even then a fundamental similarity between Rose and Jake. Violet never met anyone quite like Rose before she met Jake Hamilton. When they gazed into each other's faces, they seemed to Violet almost as though they were looking at mirror images of themselves. Yet they didn't fall into effortless and intimate conversation with each other. Violet couldn't understand them at all.

When they returned to the buggy, they found Chuck and Mick already mounted on two of the horses the sisters brought and three trunks stacked on the rack in back of the buggy. Jake and Rose settled into the back seat, and Violet and Iris got into their places in front.

Chapter 9

Mick raised an eyebrow when Iris took the reins. "Would you like one of us to drive you home?"

"I can drive." Iris adjusted the reins in her hands. Then she cracked a smile. "Who do you think drove here to get you?"

"I just thought you might like one of us to drive," Mick muttered.

"Besides," Iris went on. "If you drive, Jake will have to ride, and I wouldn't want to disturb the lovebirds."

"I guess not." Mick wheeled his horse away. Iris clucked to the horses, and the buggy rolled up the street and out of Butte.

Chuck and Mick rode alongside.

"You mentioned you have an extra house you plan to put us in," Chuck began. "Isn't anyone living in it?"

"We call it the Fort House," Violet told him. "It belonged to my father's brother. They built the ranch when they were young, and my uncle built the house when he married. But his wife died soon after, and my uncle abandoned the house. We've used it as a guest house ever since."

"So the three of us will stay there when we get to the ranch," Mick asked. "Where will we live after we get married?"

"Funny you should ask," Violet answered. "We were just discussing that very topic on the way down to Butte. You see, the ranch has three houses, the Fort House, the main house, where we live now, and what we call the Bird House, which is another small guest cottage."

"That sounds perfect," Chuck replied. "So we can each have our own house."

Violet flushed. "It would be. There's only one problem. Our guardian, the executor of our estate, lives in the Bird House at present."

"You mentioned him in your letter," Chuck told her. "Pollard, I think you said his name was."

"That's right," Violet replied. "Cornell Pollard. And he's not just our guardian and our executor, he's our great uncle on my father's side, so he's family. He's lived in the Bird House ever since our parents died and he became our guardian."

"But after you get married," Chuck pointed out. "He won't be your guardian anymore. Then what will happen?"

"That's just what we were discussing," Violet replied.

"I think," Iris put in. "That Cornell should find another place to live. If he isn't acting as our guardian and executor anymore, we won't have any use for him around the ranch anymore. He'll only get in the way."

"That sounds about right to me," Mick added.

"I can't believe you would be so unkind to a man who's dedicated so many years to our well-being," Violet exclaimed. "We can't just turn him out into the street like an unwanted dog. He's earned the right to a comfortable home."

"If you ask me," Iris declared. "I think he's earned the right to be turned out on account of the way he's run the ranch into the ground these last couple of years." She turned to Mick, who rode at her side. "You'll be shocked when you see the state of the place. We've been running bare bones for years, and the place is on the ragged edge of collapse. And all because he wouldn't listen to me when I told him something had to be done about it."

"You told him?" Mick's eyebrows went up again.

The color mounted into Iris's cheeks, and she brought her eyes back to her driving. "That's right. You might think it's a little out of the ordinary for a woman to take an interest in the workings of a cattle ranch but it's our legacy. Do you understand? Once I realized how desperate the situation was, I had no choice but to get involved, to salvage it in any way I could."

"I understand," Mick replied.

"You'll see when you get there," Iris continued. "You'll see why I had to do something—anything. And everything I've tried to do, Cornell has worked against me. I almost think he's gone out of his way to thwart me, just to drive the ranch into the ground."

"But why would he do that?" Violet broke in. "He has no reason to do it. He has financial control of the whole enterprise. It's to his advantage to make it a thriving concern."

"Not if we get married, he doesn't," Iris shot back. "He knew all along that, one day, we would grow up and control of the ranch would pass out of his hands. Once that happened, he no longer had any reason to make the ranch work."

"But he has nothing to gain by ruining the ranch," Violet protested.

"There is one thing he could gain by it," Iris replied. "He could use the ranch to prevent us from getting married. He probably counted on the fact that, as women, we wouldn't be able to run the ranch ourselves. He probably wanted to put himself in a position where we would have to rely on him to run our enterprise for us."

"I can't understand why you would hold such a vindictive opinion of Cornell," Violet exclaimed.

Iris turned to Mick. "You see? We've had this conversation morning, noon, and night for months, and we never come to any agreement about it. But you'll see when you get there. You'll see why we had to get you men out there to help us. We'd lose our entire legacy if we didn't."

Chapter 10

"This Cornell sounds like a scoundrel," Mick growled.

"He is," Iris replied.

"He is not!" Violet cried. "He's our closest relative and our guardian. I refuse to listen to anyone saying a bad word against him."

"You tell her, Chuck," Iris called across the buggy. "You're the only one who can talk sense into her."

"But didn't you mention," Chuck replied. "That this mail-order marriage was your idea? It sounds like you're going along with Iris on this."

"It _was_ her idea," Iris told him. "When I told her how the ranch was suffering from lack of cowboys, she came up with the plan that we should marry some. You would all gain a share in the operation through marriage to the three of us."

"It sounds like a pretty good deal to me," Mick replied.

"Of course it wasn't all about business, you understand," Iris went on. "Just about anyone we married would be enticed by a share of the ranch. So we might as well marry cowboys who could help us manage it properly, if you see what I mean."

"Oh, I understand your point," Mick replied. "I think it makes good sense. And I'm happy to be on board. If we do decide to give this Cornell rascal the boot, I'll be right there to lend a hand."

"No one is giving Cornell the boot!" Violet yelled. "And that's final!"

"You have to admit, it might come to that," Chuck put in.

"Over my dead body!" Violet snapped. "He's already distraught about us getting mail-order husbands—and cowboys, too. He wanted us to marry up, you know, into wealthy families with prosperous, educated sons. We've dashed all his hopes to the ground by getting you men out here. The least we can do is smooth the way for him by leaving him comfortably situated in the Bird House until he dies—which won't be too much longer, I imagine."

"He could make things very difficult for us in the meantime," Iris pointed out. "He'll make a point of sticking his nose into everything, meddling in all our affairs, and arguing with us over every business decision, even when the business no longer concerns him. You know perfectly well he will, Violet. You're only defending him because you feel guilty about flouting his wishes. You've never done it before, and you feel bad for doing it now."

Violet crossed her arms over her chest. "I do not!"

"But that still leaves the question," Chuck added. "Where are we all going to live?"

"Mick and I will take the Fort House," Iris declared. "I've already told Violet and Rose this, and I'm putting my foot down on it. If Violet absolutely refuses to send Cornell packing, then you and Rose can wrestle over the main house. I don't care. I've told you what I think we should do. If you won't do it, I'm not going to put myself out to accommodate Cornell."

"Good for you, Iris," Mick exclaimed. "That's my kind of thinking."

Violet snuck a glance over her shoulder and saw Rose and Jake still staring at each other in silence. Neither made any move to join the conversation. If anyone but Rose sat in that back seat, Violet would have invited her into the discussion on Cornell and the Bird House. After all, hadn't Rose mentioned the Bird House on the way to town? Come to think of it, Rose was the first one to mention getting rid of Cornell so she and Jake could live in the Bird House.

Violet jerked around again and directed her eyes toward the road ahead of them. In the distance, the sign over the entrance gate to Rocking Horse Ranch peeked up between two hummocks of land. It gave her the perfect opportunity to change the subject. "There it is. Rocking Horse Ranch. You can just see the front gate from here."

The two riders gazed out over the range stretching toward the far horizon. "Nice piece of country you have here," Mick remarked. "How much land do you have?"

"We have fifteen thousand acres of our own," Iris told him. "Plus we have the use of another ten thousand acres of unclaimed land adjacent to our southern boundary."

Mick whistled through his teeth. "That's a good parcel. And how much stock?"

"Five thousand head," Iris replied. "About a third of that should go to the sale yards at the end of the summer. We haven't had a decent cattle drive in a few years, what with being so short-handed. We should cut our numbers and build up again next year with higher quality stock."

Mick squinted at her out of the corner of his eye. "You really know your stuff, don't you? I never heard that kinda talk comin' outta the mouth of a woman before."

Violet laughed. "That's our Iris. She gets into everything that doesn't concern her. Do you know, Mick, she even orders the cowboys around? Pete Kershaw and Wade Jackson—they're our ranch hands—they take all their orders from Iris."

"Well, someone has to take charge of the place," Iris exclaimed. "If I didn't go out and tell them what to do, Pete and Wade would have left us long since. You order Rita around in the house, Violet. This is no different."

"Except you're a woman telling two men what to do," Violet shot back. "And both of those men are old enough to be your father. And it's cattle ranching, too! That's men's business."

"Anything having to do with my inheritance is my business," Iris declared. "And when there are no men around to run the ranch the way it should be run, I have no choice but to step in and run it." She glanced sidelong at Mick. "Once you men take over and we're married, if you don't want me getting mixed up in ranch business anymore, I won't."

"Don't worry about that," Mick replied. "As long as there's work to do, I'm sure we'll be happy for another pair of willing hands to do it. But just wait a little while. Once we're married, you might decide you don't want to run the ranch anymore. You might decide you like it better in the house doing women's things."

"Not likely!" Violet scoffed.

But when she saw Iris's embarrassment, Violet regretted joking at her expense. Iris bore the sole credit for keeping the ranch alive this long. She should apologize for her tactless remarks, especially in front of Iris's future husband, but she never got the chance. The buggy rolled under the sign at the front gate and purred up the road toward the house.

"There's the house." Iris pointed out the main house. "We'll drive you over to the Fort House and drop you off. What time is it, Violet?"

Violet fished around in her hand bag for a watch, but before she found it, Jake Hamilton's smooth voice answered from the back seat. "It's quarter to five."

Violet jumped in her seat and looked over her shoulder just in time to see Jake tucking a gold pocket watch into the breast pocket of his waist coat. He didn't acknowledge her, but went back to looking at Rose.

"Then we have a little time left," Iris replied. "Once you get settled in, why don't the three of you come on down to the main house for a little supper. We can have a meal together and get a little bit better acquainted."

"Sounds like a great idea," Chuck answered. "I'm starving."

"Me, too," Mick agreed. "And will Cornell be joining us?"

"I doubt it," Iris replied. "He usually has supper with us, but I think he'll make himself scarce tonight."

"Good for him," Mick muttered.

Chapter 11

Iris drove the buggy past the main house, around the barn, and up a small hill on the other side. She pulled to a halt in front of a log cabin perched on top of the hill. "This is the Fort House," she told them.

Mick surveyed the house. "Why do you call it that?"

"I really don't know, to tell you the truth." She studied the plain little house. "My uncle named it that when he built it, and we've called it that ever since. I like to think he named it that because it looks like the old log stockades the Army built for their forts when the first settlers moved into the country. But that's just a guess. I really don't know."

Mick and Chuck dismounted in front of the high porch that ran along the front of the house. Mick grabbed the three trunks from the rack on the back of the buggy and threw them, one after the other, onto the porch with no more difficulty than if he were tossing feather pillows. He also unloaded several longer cases. Violet assumed they contained long guns—rifles and shotguns. Pete and Wade kept their guns in cases like that.

Mick tied the two saddle horses to the back of the buggy.

"Would you like us to show you around inside?" Violet asked.

Chuck leaned against the porch. "You don't have to do that. I'm sure you have better things to do. We can sort ourselves out. I'm just glad to find a place to stop and take a breath for a while. I'm in no hurry to get indoors just now."

Jake made no move to get out of the buggy. He and Rose continued their silent communion in the back seat, oblivious to everything around them. But as if by some silent cue, he shifted his weight and stepped down from the seat. "I guess I'll have a look around inside."

Rose jumped down after him. She didn't say anything, but Jake took her by the hand and the two mounted the steps to the porch. The next minute, they disappeared through the door into the cabin.

"I'll take the buggy and the horses down to the barn," Iris announced. "There's not much daylight left."

"I'll come with you," Mick swung himself up into the front seat next to her, and the buggy trundled away, down the hill to the barn.

Violet watched the buggy roll to a stop in front of the barn, where Mick hopped back down and slid back the barn door. He stood aside as Iris drove the buggy inside with the three horses trotting after it on their lead ropes.

Violet sighed and glanced at Chuck, who still leaned against the porch. He smiled and lowered his eyes when he saw her looking at him. Violet couldn't wipe the smile off her face. She turned her shoulder to him and followed his gaze down the hill. "You can see the whole ranch from up here. You can see right through the back door of the main house, and you can see everything going on in front of the yard."

"Where's your guardian's house?" he asked.

"Over there." Violet pointed out an even smaller cottage on a distant hill to the north. Only the glint of the sun on its windows showed it was there. "It's very private, the Bird House. You can't hardly see anything of the ranch from there, and no one can see you. And you definitely can't hear anything."

"It sounds ideal," Chuck remarked.

"Rose mentioned on the way to town this morning that she would like to live there with Jake," Violet told him. "That is, if Cornell wasn't there."

"Sounds like a good idea," Chuck replied.

"I still don't like the idea of sending him away," Violet remarked. "It just doesn't seem right."

"I understand, "Chuck replied. "He's family, and family means a lot. But you never know. We're all going to be married—when did you say it was? Friday? Something could happen between now and then that will clear the way for all of us to get what we want, even Cornell. It often works out that way."

"Do you think so?" Violet asked.

Chuck nodded. "Don't worry about Cornell. Everything will work out in the end. You'll see."

Violet surveyed the ranch below her. Then she peeked sideways at Chuck again and caught him looking at her and grinning from ear to ear. Violet laughed in spite of herself.

"What's so funny?" Chuck asked, but before the words got completely out of his mouth, he burst out laughing himself. "Aren't we a pair, giggling like schoolgirls."

Violet wiped the corner of her eye. "We're going to be married. Can you believe that?"

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" Chuck dabbed his own eyes with the cuff of his sleeve.

Violet composed herself enough to look him in the face without laughing out loud. "I'm....I'm glad you're here."

Chuck went serious. "Me, too. I'm....Oh, heck. I sound like an idiot for saying it, but I think you're awful nice. I'm glad of that."

"I know just what you mean," Violet exclaimed. "I've wondered so many times what you would be like, and now that you're here and I'm seeing you in the flesh—well, I'm just so relieved and happy! I can't put it into words."

Chuck reached out toward her, and the next thing she knew, she found his hand holding hers. "You don't have to put it into words. Just so you know I feel the same way. I just can't wait 'til Friday."

Violet tried to answer, but she laughed for joy at the same time her eyes smarted with tears. This moment fulfilled all her deepest hopes for her mail-order marriage. She came up with the idea of getting mail-order husbands as a way to save the ranch. She never considered until this moment that she might marry a man she actually cared for.

Yet here he was, standing in front of her. She could care for him—she could do so much more than care for him! She could dedicate her life to him, she could join forces with him and become so much stronger than they ever were alone. So this was what marriage was all about! And she never realized it before.

Chapter 12

The daylight lengthened into twilight, a pleasant breeze washed over the range, and the last birds twittered from somewhere out of sight. Chuck's fingers slipped over Violet's, and a surge of goose bumps shot up her spine and up the back of her neck. Would Rose and Jake come out of the house right now and find them holding hands? Wasn't she supposed to be the proper older sister and set an example for her younger sisters? Somehow it never worked out that way.

Violet tore her eyes away from Chuck's face and took refuge in the view of the ranch. "Somehow, they've all managed to run off and leave us alone."

Chuck pretended to look around for the others. "I don't think they're thinking about us at all. I think they all wanted to get off alone, and I don't blame them. Is there anywhere we can go to spend some time, just you and me?"

Violet started back in surprise. "I hadn't thought about that."

"I'll be stuck up here with Mick and Jake," Chuck went on. "And you'll be stuck down there with Iris and Rose. When will we ever spend any time together?"

"I'm sure we'll all go off alone together after the service on Friday," she replied.

"I mean before Friday," Chuck corrected her. "I don't want to come to the altar on Friday without spending some time with you first. I'd die of loneliness."

"We aren't going to the altar," Violet told him. "Don't you remember? The minister is coming out here Friday morning to marry us at the main house. I told you that in my letter."

"I remember," Chuck replied. "But that doesn't change the fact that we have three more days to wait before that happens. What are you trying to do—torture me?"

"Of course not," Violet replied. "If you want to spend time alone, we'll find a way to do it."

"Of course I want to spend time alone with you," Chuck told her. "Don't you want to spend time alone with me, too?"

"Sure, I do," Violet replied. "I just need to think of a way to do it. Hey, listen. You're coming down to the house for supper in a little while. Maybe afterward we can take a walk together. And look up there. There'll be a nice bright moon. It'll be a beautiful night for a walk. How does that sound?"

"All right. You win." His finger slid back and forth in her hand again. The skin slipped silky and smooth under his touch. The goosebumps prickled over her body again. If only she could find a way to be alone with him! So what if they weren't married yet? They would be soon enough.

But they weren't alone now. Here came Iris and Mick out of the barn together, and the tread of footsteps on the stairs inside the house jerked Violet out of her reverie. She pulled her hand away from Chuck and stepped back. "Good, then. Until tonight."

The smile fell away from his face. Oh, what was she doing? He was right. Why couldn't they just stay like this forever? Why did they have to put up a façade of propriety between now and Friday?

Maybe Iris and Rose were right about getting rid of Cornell. She didn't really want to share a house with anyone, not even her own sister, after she married Chuck. How sensible Iris was! She knew perfectly well that, after the wedding service, she would want to take Mick back to the Fort House—alone—and stay there and live there with him—alone. She didn't want any interference from any of her sisters or their husbands, and she definitely didn't want any interference from Cornell.

Even though she knew in her heart Iris was right, Violet still couldn't resign herself to support their plan to serve Cornell with his marching orders. She just couldn't bring herself to remove the last remaining obstacle to all three of their couples living alone together in their own houses.

To Violet's eternal gratitude, the cabin door swung open and Rose and Jake came out onto the porch. At the same time, Mick and Iris strode up the hill and stopped right in front of Chuck and Violet. Thank goodness she'd let go of his hand before they came!

One passing glance at her sisters showed Violet they'd each shared a moment of connection with their future husbands the same way Violet had with Chuck. All six of them wore the same bewildered smile on their faces and the same smitten blush on their cheeks. Did she look that way, too? Violet felt the burning heat in her face and knew she did.

Mick climbed up onto the porch. He selected one of the long cases from the pile of luggage and laid it out on the floor. He unclipped the latches and threw back the lid. He took a polished shotgun out of the case and inspected it. He raised the butt to his shoulder, pointed the muzzle down toward the ground, and sighted down the barrel.

Then he set the shot gun aside and took out first one and then another lever-action rifle. He gave these the same inspection. When he finished, he stood all three guns against the wall in the corner of the porch.

The three sisters watched him, Iris in admiration, Rose detached, and Violet frozen in astonishment. So this was the man her sister planned to marry? A man who unpacked his guns before everything else? Jake and Chuck watched him, too, and his actions gave Jake an idea. He dug out a small square case from the stack of trunks and bags and opened it on the bent-wood chair at the back of the porch.

Violet gasped in surprise when he lifted out a gun belt bristling with bullets and buckled it around his waist. The hand grips of the two pistols hanging on either hip gleamed with inlaid ivory and silver enamel. Jake adjusted their position on his hips and drew them one after the other. He hefted them in his hands, flexed the hammers of both guns under his thumb, and then slid them back into their holsters.

The gun belt made him look different to Violet. It made him look....what? What was different about him, with a gun at his waist? Yet the minor addition to his wardrobe changed him in Violet's eyes. She couldn't understand it, but her estimation of him shifted. Her first impression of him at the hotel saloon had been grossly incorrect. He wasn't small or weak or inexperienced or soft. Jake Hamilton was not a man to be trifled with. Violet was never more certain of anything.

Neither Rose nor Iris nor Chuck showed any sign of disturbance at the men getting out their guns. Was Violet exaggerating the significance of it? After all, they'd wanted cowboys and cowboys was what they got. Still, something told Violet these were no ordinary cowboys handling the tools of their trade. Mick looked more like an outlaw getting ready to rob a bank.

And Jake? She didn't know what Jake looked like. He didn't look like any cowboy she ever saw. He looked like a coyote or a mountain lion stalking its prey. Violet knew nothing about him, but she was quite certain he could wield those guns with deadly accuracy.

Chapter 13

"I don't suppose you ladies know what sort of good huntin' there is around here," Mick asked.

"I'm sure I don't," Violet replied.

"I do," Iris cut in. "There's deer and elk and moose down here on the range all the time, especially in the fall. You know how it is. If you go up into the mountains, it's even better. There's bears, cougars, and wolves. And, of course, there's birds. You go down to the river, you'll have no end of birds of all kinds."

Mick squinted at her. "You don't go huntin', do ya?"

Iris blushed. "No. I don't have time. But Pete and Wade go when they have a day or two off."

"Hmm." Mick turned back to unpacking his cases. He took out bandoliers of small caliber bullets and boxes of rifle cartridges. He sorted them all and laid them out by size. "Maybe you and me can go for a ride up there, Chuck." He nodded toward the mountains behind the ranch.

"You go ahead. I want to have a look at things around the ranch." He caught Violet's eye and glanced away.

"How 'bout you, Jake?" Mick asked. "You fancy a little bit a' huntin' before you get stuck into work?"

Jake strolled across the porch and leaned against a post. "I could be tempted to go out, if you're goin'. No sense bustin' ourselves with work right away, especially if we're gettin' married on Friday. Might do to take a day or two to settle in first."

"If the ranch is anywhere near as behind as you say it is," Chuck added. "Then we don't have any time to waste goin' off huntin'. But I tell you what, I mean to have a look for myself and decide just what's what. I won't take anyone's word on the state of things around here. I'll look and see for myself."

"No one's stoppin' you," Mick replied. "But there'll be plenty of time for work after we get married. I've been traveling for three weeks to get here. I'm gonna take at least a day or two off before I start crackin' heads."

Violet caught her breath at his words, but no one else seemed to notice.

"We should get down to the house," Iris remarked. "It'll be suppertime soon. We can talk about things then. You men'll want to get settled in, and we've had a long day on the road."

"That's all right," Mick replied. "You go ahead. We'll be down to supper directly."

"Before we go," Violet interrupted. "I should show you around the house a little bit. There are some extra supplies in there to make your stay more comfortable."

"Oh, right," Iris replied. "I forgot. Violet arranged the house for your coming."

"If you follow me...." Inside, she showed them to the wood stove in the corner of the main room downstairs. "There's firewood here, and we always keep a box of matches and candles here on the shelf. I don't know if you'll need to light the fire. It's been pretty warm here the last few weeks, and I've arranged with Rita for you three to take your meals down at the main house."

"If it's warm and we don't need to cook," Chuck replied. "Then I don't see us needing to light the fire."

"That's what I thought," Violet agreed. "But you never know. Just keep it in mind. And there's a box of tinder here for getting it going." She crossed the room to a wooden trunk built into the wall of the room. "In here, I've put some food stores, just in case you get hungry. You never know when you might want something between meals. There's a side of bacon, a couple rounds of cheese, a loaf of bread, and a basket of apples from the cellar. That should keep you going. If you eat all that and you want some more, you let me know and I'll fix you up."

Chuck smiled at her. "Very practical. Thank you."

Violet smiled back. "They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, so I figured we'd keep the way well cleared."

The three men chuckled. "Of course."

"Now then." Violet stopped at the foot of the ladder leading up to the loft. "The beds are upstairs. I suppose Rose showed you, Jake. I won't go up. You can find your way by yourselves. But you'll find a supply of extra blankets in the bench at the foot of the beds. You shouldn't need them, what with the mild weather we're having, but like I said, you never know. If you need something else, you can tell me."

"No one's told you yet, Chuck," Iris interrupted. "Violet runs this ranch. Cornell thinks he's the one who makes all the decisions around here, but it's actually Violet who decides who does what and when and where. She even keeps the books."

"I'm glad to hear it." Chuck nodded to her. "It's good to know my future wife knows how to manage a place. I wouldn't want it any other way."

Violet flushed with pride. "I'm only doing what I have to do. I feel the same way Iris does. This ranch is our inheritance, and I want to make sure we have it in good working order to hand down to the next generation. Cornell can only do so much. He can't run the ranch with a woman's eye for the small details. He can't know how to run the kitchen for maximum efficiency. He can't know all the things we could be doing for ourselves instead of paying for them in town."

"Violet tells Rita what to cook for our meals and what ingredients to use," Iris told them. "She even tells her how much soap to use in the laundry and how to make the soap. She mends all our clothes, and she does it so well that Cornell doesn't even notice they've been mended. If he did notice, he would tell us to throw the clothes away and buy new ones."

"It's a waste of money," Violet insisted. "Take a look at this dress." She held up the skirts of her own dress. "Look at that seam. You would never know that dress had been mended."

The three men examined the seam, and nodded their heads in mute agreement.

"This is a perfectly good dress," Violet declared. "Why should I throw it away when it could be mended as good as new? And the laundry soap. If Cornell knew we used homemade soap for the laundry, he would tell us to use store bought soap instead. It's just wasteful, and it's our own money he's wasting, too. He doesn't care about spending our money the same way he would care if it was his own."

"I agree with you absolutely," Chuck replied. "A woman should do everything possible to safeguard the family economy. My mother made all our clothes, all our soap, mended all our clothes, and cooked all our food from homegrown ingredients. It's the mark of a sensible, practical woman. And it's everything I hoped my wife would be, too."

Violet blushed to the roots of her hair. "It's the least a woman can do to run her own household. We're not royalty, although Cornell certainly would like to think we are."

"And do you know," Iris continued. "Violet sneaks Cornell's clothes and mends them on the sly. That's how practical she is. He doesn't even know his clothes have been mended. That's how far Violet goes to keep him happy. He thinks she's his strongest supporter around here. He doesn't even know she disagrees with him."

The three men stared at Violet with new appreciation. "It's amazing," Chuck murmured. "That's certainly going above and beyond the call of duty."

Violet shook her head. "It _is_ the call of duty. I wouldn't get anywhere arguing with him about it. I've found that out too many times. If he doesn't have the eyes to see that his socks are darned and his shirts mended, why should he get new ones? My word, he doesn't even notice when they have holes that need mending!"

"Then I guess he can't really express his appreciation for your efforts," Mick pointed out.

"Oh, I don't want him expressing his appreciation," Violet exclaimed. "I'm very happy for him to remain in the dark. As I say, if he doesn't notice, he doesn't deserve new clothes. He doesn't deserve new clothes, anyway, not at our expense. If I'm the one paying for his clothes, then by golly, he'll get them mended when they wear out."

"I'll say!" Chuck agreed.

Violet looked at Chuck and found him studying her. When their eyes met, they both smiled and blushed and looked away.

Violet didn't hear what the others said. She didn't hear what Chuck said or what she herself said. They managed to separate somehow, maybe without speaking at all. Violet and her sisters strolled down the hill to the main house. Only about halfway down the hill Violet heard the door of the Fort House shut behind them. The men had watched them go.

Violet didn't bother to try to talk to her sisters on the way back to the house. She didn't even look at them. Her mind wandered away over the range under the pendulous moon. Chuck strolled at her side, his delicate fingers tickling the palm of her hand.

And then, when they came to the creek bottom under the poplar trees, he stopped and moved just a little closer to her. And all the while, her heart thudded in her chest until her legs wobbled underneath her. She saw his eyes, his face, his mouth, and his fingers caressed her hands.

Chapter 14

The three sisters sailed into the house, each floating in her own separate dream and smiling the same secret smile. Iris and Rose disappeared before Violet knew what became of them, and she knew better than to follow them. She ought to go to her own room and lie down for a while before the men came up for supper.

But some nameless misgiving induced her to seek out Cornell one more time before they parted for the evening. Maybe Iris had a point and she felt guilty about flouting his wishes. She just couldn't let him go with their quarrel hanging over her head.

She tiptoed along the passage leading to the library. None of the usual hum of human presence emanated from the walls the way they usually did when Cornell held office in there. Maybe he'd already gone home to the Bird House for the night. Maybe he'd given instructions to Rita to bring his supper up there so he wouldn't have to deal with any of the Kilburn girls at all. Maybe he just wanted some peace and quiet.

Violet stuck her head into the library, expecting to find it empty. But she cried out when she saw Cornell putting the last of his papers away. "Are you still up, Cornell? I thought you'd be sitting on the porch smoking your pipe by now. It's late, you know. You're not burning the midnight oil, are you?" Violet crossed the carpet to his desk.

"I'm still working, Violet," Cornell replied. "Have you and your sisters just come back from town with those men of yours?"

"Yes." Violet blushed in spite of herself. "They'll be staying in the Fort House until Friday, but I guess I already told you that."

"You told me," Cornell replied. "I just didn't want to believe you'd go through with it."

His tone snapped her out of her dream and brought her back to earth with a crash. "Of course we went through with it. Did you really think, after we went to the trouble of getting these men out here, that we would back out on our plan?"

Cornell sighed. "I guess I only hoped."

"You should know us better than that by now, Cornell," Violet told him. "You should know we aren't given to flights of fancy or idle threats. When we make up our minds to do something, we do it, especially when we believe it will serve the best interests of the ranch and our future."

"I suppose you're right," Cornell admitted. "I just hoped you wouldn't. So, what are they like, these men? Are they everything you hoped they would be?"

The blood rushed to Violet's cheeks and her eyes blazed at the memory of Chuck outside the Fort House. "They're everything we hoped they would be. I think they're going to be perfect for us. You'll see, Cornell. The ranch will be so much better off with them here. We all will be."

"No, I don't think so, Violet dear." Cornell put the last of his papers away, came around his desk, and positioned himself in front of her. He crossed his hands in front of himself and furrowed his brows at her. "I think you will live to regret this decision, and I wouldn't be doing my duty to your family if I let it happen."

Violet didn't like his tone at all. She wouldn't let him see how much his manner frightened her, so she straightened her spine and set her teeth for the next round of their argument. "There's nothing you can do to stop it now. They're right out there in the Fort House, and we're all getting married on Friday, come hell or high water."

"I don't think that will happen, Violet," Cornell insisted. "I think I can still make you see the light before Friday."

"I don't want to see the light," Violet declared. "Not your light, anyway. And neither do Iris or Rose. You'll just have to accept it."

"I won't accept it," Cornell told her. "And I still have a few arrows left in my quiver to convince you."

Violet froze. "Like what?"

"I'm still your guardian and your trustee," Cornell reminded her. "I still hold the purse strings of your fortune, and I still have the power to consent to these marriages. I can use the power vested in me by your late parents to stop you from marrying these men."

Violet shuddered. He didn't really mean to make this situation as unpleasant as all that, did he? "What are you saying, Cornell? You don't mean that..." Violet trailed off.

Cornell pointed his finger into Violet's face. "I'm holding you personally responsible for this fiasco, Violet. Your sisters would never go through with a plan like this without your encouragement. If anyone takes the consequences for this, it should be you."

"What consequences do you mean?" Violet could barely form the words to ask.

"I'm still sole trustee of your estate," Cornell reminded her. "I still have the power to decide which, if any of you, inherits your parent's fortune. If you prove yourself unworthy of it, perhaps you shouldn't."

"You wouldn't dare!" Violet gasped. "You wouldn't disinherit me on the very eve of my wedding day!"

"Wouldn't I?" Cornell sneered. "I can and I would, if you persist in this disastrous scheme of yours. I don't see why the fortune your father worked so hard for should be squandered on some dirty cattle puncher."

"You haven't even met Chuck," Violet retorted. "How do you know he's dirty? Why don't you come to supper now and meet him. I think your fears would be assuaged if you did. You'll see he's a good man who will do the ranch a lot of good. And I'm quite certain I'll be very happy married to him. Come and see for yourself."

"I wouldn't stoop so low," Cornell shot back. "I don't have to meet him or see him or the other two to know what they are. You said you were marrying cowboys, and that's all I need to know. They aren't worthy of the Kilburn family fortune, and I'll make sure they never see a penny of it. And neither will any of you, if you go through with these marriages."

"You can't disinherit all of us," Violet pointed out. "What are you going to do? Take the money for yourself?" She meant the question as a joke, but the minute the words passed her lips, a terrible chill froze Violet's heart. He couldn't, could he? He wouldn't! Wasn't he supposed to be their guardian, the executor of their trust? How could he even suggest such a thing?

"I can, and I will." Cornell squared his shoulders and his spiny eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead. "I suggest you go to supper and tell these men that the wedding is off, and that you and your sisters have decided to marry different men. That's what you'll tell them, if you don't want to wind up on the street." He compressed his lips on the last word.

Chapter 15

Violet pulled herself up and hardened her heart to him. For the first time in her life, he didn't frighten her. "And I suggest, Cornell, that you think twice about opposing these marriages. Do you know what Iris and Rose talked about on the way down to Butte today, and what she and the men talked about on the way home? They talked about packing you off, out of the Bird House, out of Rocking Horse Ranch, and out of our lives, after we get married."

Cornell's eyebrows flew up, but he kept his composure enough not to show his shock any other way. "Is that so?"

"Yes, it is," Violet told him. "I spent both trips doing everything in my power to defend you and keep a place for you here. But I see no reason to do that if you threaten me or make life unpleasant for our husbands."

"They aren't your husband's yet, Violet," Cornell growled.

"No, but they will be," Violet declared. "You may be absolutely certain of that. We will marry these men on Friday, whether you like it or not, and even if you do plan to take our money for yourself, all of our fortune will pass to our husbands the day we marry them, no matter what you say or do."

Cornell didn't reply. He only pressed his lips together more firmly than ever. Was that a hint of concern in his eye? Oh, please let it be so! Please let her words strike home!

Violet's words came out of her mouth like molten iron. She'd never heard her own voice so hard and piercing before. Was she really saying these things? And to Cornell's face, too! She never thought she'd live so long.

"If I was in your position, Cornell," she said. "I'd make an effort to be very polite and generous, not only to these three men, but to me and my sisters, too. Your future rests in our hands, and it wouldn't take much to tip the balance of power away from you. If that happens, there's nothing I can do to protect you, and it's you who'll be out on the street."

Violet fixed him with one last withering glare before she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room. She slammed the door behind her, but immediately ran away, down the passage, and up the stairs to her own room, where she slammed her own door and locked herself in.

She threw herself down on her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and screamed as she'd never screamed before in her life. She screamed out all her vile thoughts about Cornell. She screamed all her worry about the future of the ranch and for the well-being of her sisters. Last of all, she screamed in excitement and exhilaration at the thought of Chuck. The thrill of pleasure scorched up her arm from the fingers he'd touched and spread through her whole body.

Was this what it felt like? Was this what a man could do to a woman's body? Could a thought throw her into a ferment of anticipation at seeing him again, talking to him, touching him. Heavens above! How much more incredible would it be to live with him, to hold him, to lie next to him every night of her life!

Oh, she couldn't stop screaming from thinking about it! Did her sisters know? Is this the way Iris felt when she left the barn with Mick? What had they talked about and done in there? Had he touched her hand and spoken soft words to her and smiled into her eyes the way Chuck did to her? And Jake must have done the same thing to Rose in the Fort House. That's why they all smiled so foolishly and couldn't stop smiling?

Did every woman in the world feel this way when she got close to a man? So this was what all the fuss was about! Violet always thought all that romantic fairy-tale nonsense about finding your prince and living happily ever after was just a childish story. But here it was, coming true for her and her sisters.

Please, God, don't let anyone hear her screaming like this. But she couldn't stop. Tears of excitement and raw emotion wet her pillow. She only stopped screaming when the pain in her throat overcame her agitation and she couldn't scream any more. Maybe she'd destroyed her voice, and everyone would know she'd screamed her head off because she couldn't talk anymore.

She sat up and sniffed. Then she got a drink of water from the wash stand pitcher. She must pull herself together before going down to supper. The men would arrive soon, and she wanted to look her best.

The events of the day flooded back, and she suppressed a giggle at the sizzle of eagerness at seeing Chuck again downstairs. Why did Cornell have to be such an insufferable tyrant? Why couldn't he at least try to understand the sisters' reasons for marrying these men? Why did he have to make the whole experience so unpleasant for everyone?

What a joy these marriages would be for all of them if Cornell hadn't blighted the experience with his petty spite! A wedding should be the happiest day of a woman's life. And here were three sisters, all getting married on the same day.

If Violet judged rightly, all three were marrying their fairy-tale princes, their hearts' true and destined sweethearts. What happier occasion could anyone imagine?

Curse that Cornell, anyway! Violet would find a way to deal with him. She resolved to discuss with her sisters his latest threat to disinherit them. She crossed the room to tidy up her hair in the looking glass, but she gasped in horror when she saw herself. She wouldn't let a living soul—not even her sisters—see her puffy red eyes or swollen lips.

She wet a handkerchief in the washbasin and laid it over her eyes. She splashed more water over her whole face and then went to open the window. The cool night air would cool her down. She pushed back the lace curtains and threw up the sash. As she expected, the breeze gusted into the room and bathed her wet face in a luscious chill.

But Violet caught her breath again when her eye fell on a solitary figure on the ground below her window. In the last twilight before full dark, Chuck glanced up at the house and saw her. Their eyes met, and he smiled.

Violet laughed out loud in pure joy at seeing him again. His face broke into a grin, and he blew her a kiss.

All Violet's efforts to fix up her face failed, and her eyes brimmed with tears. She laughed at the same time, and she blew him a kiss of her own.

His smile turned to a laugh, and he cast his eyes down to the ground with his cheeks on fire. When he peeked up at her again, he pointed into the house, and Violet nodded.

Chapter 16

Violet never flew so fast as she raced away from that window. She forgot all about her face, her hair, Cornell, the ranch, and everything else. She only knew one thing: she was going downstairs to see him. Nothing else mattered in the world.

She ran down the stairs and nearly collided with Chuck in the entry hall near the front door. She collapsed into another laughing fit, unsure whether to run away or throw herself into his arms.

He held her at arm's length. "Hang on there. Where's the fire?"

"I was just coming downstairs to meet you," she stammered. "I guess I got a little ahead of myself."

"I'll say." Chuck examined her face a little more closely. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She tried to cover her mouth with her hand, but laughed hysterically instead. "It's just been such an emotional day. I guess I'm a little overwrought from it all."

Chuck cocked his head. "Emotional? How?"

"Oh, I just mean meeting you for the first time," Violet explained. "And I had it out with Cornell this morning, and now I just had it out with him again when we came in after dropping you off. But I'm fine. I guess I'm just tired. I'll be just fine as soon as I've had a chance to calm down."

Chuck heard more than she intended. Even at a distance from him, Violet felt him stiffen. "You had it out with him? In what way?"

"I went to the library to find out if he was still working in there, and he was," Violet told him. "You know he's not happy about us marrying you men. Well, he's more unhappy about it now that you're here. He got quite nasty about it, in fact." She glanced in the direction of the library, although she knew Cornell wouldn't be there anymore. He'd be back at the Bird House, having his own supper by now.

Chuck's sharp eyes pierced her. "What did he say? What did he say to you this time?"

Violet quailed. Why did Cornell have to spoil her happiness even now? She'd been so excited to come downstairs to Chuck, and here they were, alone, just inches away from each other, and what did they do? They talked about Cornell. She'd had enough of Cornell to sink the Spanish Armada!

She waved her hands as if to shoo Cornell out of her life, but the tears mounted in her eyes despite her efforts to blink them away. "I don't want to talk about him anymore. We're here together, and we're alone together. I don't want to spend the time we have together talking about Cornell. Let's go in to supper, and afterward, we'll go out for our walk, and we won't talk about Cornell, or the ranch, or anything else. We'll just enjoy each other's company"

Chuck frowned at her, and she almost lost her nerve entirely. Then he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. "All right. We won't talk about Cornell anymore."

"I hope you understand," Violet exclaimed. "It's just that I was so happy to come down here to meet you....." She burst into tears. "And here we are talking about Cornell! I could choke on Cornell! And we just met! It isn't fair!" She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

Something soft and warm was happening to her, but she couldn't see through her fingers or stem the flow of her tears to figure out what it was. Then she felt a warm breath on the outside edge of her ear and she realized Chuck was holding her in his arms. If only she could stop crying and enjoy it! What was wrong with her?

A slight inclination of her head brought her forehead into contact with his chest. An overpowering surge of raw emotion swept over her. Was it passion, or grief, or anger, or elation? She'd never experienced emotions so strong before, and they took every scrap of feeling in her whole body and heart and soul just to experience them without exploding into a million shards of glass.

She laid her head down on his chest and wept for all she was worth. It was the only response she could muster in the face of this overwhelming upheaval. Maybe she _was_ exploding into a million shards of glass. Maybe this is what it felt like to explode and come back together as a completely different person—a person in love.

What must Chuck think of her strange behavior? Would he think she was upset about meeting him or unwilling to go through with their marriage? Heaven forbid!

But he patted her on the back and breathed his intoxicating breath into her ear. Every breath of his on her ear and neck only blew the pieces of her up into the atmosphere again. Every breath of his burned her skin and fanned the flames of her torment. Why did she have to wait until Friday to rest her head on his chest forever, to let the breath of his mouth blow her away, never to return?

At last, the fragments of what used to be Violet Kilburn settled back to earth and she dragged her head up. She sniffed and dabbed the corners of her eyes on her sleeve. "I'm a mess," she mumbled. "Pay no attention to me."

He chucked from somewhere above her. "Okay. I won't."

She snorted with laughter again, and looked up at him. But she nearly choked on her laughter when she found his face just inches away from hers, his eyes searching hers and his lips parted. Instead of starting away from her in astonishment, he leaned even closer to her, his breath kindling her brain into a dizzying shower of sparks.

His lips hung so close to hers. His hands pressed so tightly against the small of her back. His heart thumped against the bodice of her dress, reverberating through her being and shaking the edifice of her nature to its foundation.

"I guess we better go in to supper," she breathed. "The others will be waiting for us."

"Let 'em wait," Chuck murmured.

He moved forward another fraction of an inch to close the gap between his lips and hers, but a door slammed in another part of the house and startled both of them apart. "It's him!" Violet gasped. "It's Cornell!"

Chapter 17

Chuck dropped his hands from her body, and they both stepped away. "How do you know it's him?"

"That was the door by the back parlor," Violet whispered. "He always uses that door when he comes down from the Bird House. He's the only one who uses it. It's almost his own private entrance."

"Quick! In here!" Chuck pulled her through the nearest doorway.

"Not in here!" Violet whispered.

"Why not?" Chuck asked.

"This is the library," Violet told him.

Chuck looked around. "Yeah? So what?"

"This is Cornell's office," Violet explained. "That's his desk right over there. If he's coming to the house at this hour, he'll be coming here. He probably wants to do some work, or he forgot something when he went home. We can't stay in here."

"Well, where else is there to go?" Chuck asked. "We can't exactly go to your room, can we? We aren't married yet."

"There is nowhere else to go." Violet glanced around the library. "The only place to go is outside."

"Maybe if we just keep quiet, he won't come," Chuck suggested.

"And if he does come?" Violet asked.

"Then I'll introduce myself to him," Chuck replied. "I have to meet him sooner or later. It's not like we're doing anything wrong by being alone together in the library, are we?"

Violet stared at him. Then she dissolved in laughter.

"What's so funny?" Chuck asked.

"Listen to us!" Violet gasped. "Whispering in a corner of the library and worrying about being caught! We're like two children sneaking into the cookie jar."

Chuck stared back at her. Then he burst into a grin. "You're right. We're adults, and we're going to be married in a few days. We aren't doing anything wrong. Let him come and find us here if he wants to."

They waited in silence, their noses almost touching, and panting in a cloud of anticipation. They gazed into each other's eyes. "It's nice to be alone together, just for a little while," Violet breathed

Chuck nodded, his eyes probing into hers. "It is nice."

Violet breathed again. "The others are still waiting for us."

"They could be hiding just like we are." Chuck's arm slithered around her waist. Violet sucked in her breath as he pulled her toward him. "We're here. We might as well make the most of it while we have the chance."

"What are you going to do?" she whispered.

"Oh, nothing." His lips hovered closer to her mouth, quivering and tasting the air.

"Cornell....."she began.

"Forget about Cornell," he growled.

Something banged in the distance and Violet jolted in shock again. This time, Chuck let her go. "Let's get on. We'll have plenty of time for this when we don't have to worry about someone breakin' in on us."

Chuck took Violet by the hand and never let her go. His hand dwarfed hers by a mile, but her little hand and her heart took shelter in his big rough paw. Violet could face any menace with him at her side. How had she managed all these years without him? It must really be true that a person wasn't complete until they married their heart's intended.

Violet led Chuck out of the library and down the passage to the dining room. She slid the door open, but the only other person inside was Rose. She lifted her head and smiled at Violet and Chuck, but she didn't notice—or took as wholly natural—their joined hands.

"Where is everyone?" Violet asked. "I thought you would all be in here waiting for us."

"Jake just went out for a smoke before supper," Rose replied. "I don't know where Mick and Iris are. I haven't seen them. But I just heard Cornell come in. I wonder if he plans to join us. Maybe we should tell Rita to set another place for him."

Violet flushed. "I don't think he'll join us. He told me earlier he wasn't interested in meeting the men."

Rose's eyes widened. "Really? Why not?"

"He's in a fine stew about our mail-order marriages," Violet told her. "He has all kinds of wild ideas about how he's going to convince us call off the wedding."

"Really?" Rose repeated. "What are his ideas?"

"I'll tell you when Mick and Iris get here—oh, and Jake, of course." Violet took a chair on the side of the table and pulled out the one next to it for Chuck. "I don't want to repeat the same story more than once. We'll talk about it when all of us are together."

Rose smiled. "This is almost like our first family meeting. It's our first council of war."

Violet stared at her sister. "This is hardly war, Rose. We're talking about Cornell. He's our uncle. I only wish there was some way to resolve this situation without escalating hostilities any further."

Rose leaned back in her chair. "Cornell bears all the responsibility for any hostility. We shouldn't go out of our way to lessen it for him. That will only weaken our position, and we don't want that."

Violet's mouth fell open. Was this her little sister saying these words? Was this sweet, innocent Rose, the flower of the family, taking such a stance against Cornell? "Rose! I'm shocked at you!"

"Why?" Rose asked. "You've done everything a person could do to make it up to Cornell. You've explained our position to him about a million times, and he refuses to listen. He refuses to be placated in any way. So you should stop trying. He wants to be hostile, so let him be hostile. We'll show him we can be hostile, too, and he won't like it one little bit."

"Rose!" Violet gasped.

Before they could discuss the situation further, the door opened and Jake sauntered in. He gave Chuck and Violet a casual smile and sat down next to Rose. "Evenin', folks. Nice night for it."

"It's gonna be a blazer," Chuck replied. "Violet and I are takin' a walk in the moonlight after supper. You two oughta do the same. You gotta take advantage of nights like this when they come around. The air is good for the soul."

"I agree." Jake turned to Rose. "What do ya say, darlin'? What do ya say to a stroll out in the moonlight after supper?"

Rose smiled at him and lowered her eyelids. "All right."

Chapter 18

The door opened again and Mick and Iris came in, but they weren't holding hands. Maybe she and Chuck ought to keep that sort of thing to themselves for now. Maybe the others hadn't gotten that far. But Chuck had almost kissed her just now. Who knew what the others had got up to when no one else was around?

Mick and Iris sat down side by side at one end of the table. Mick pretended to look around the room. "What is there to eat around here?"

"Rita will be here in a minute with the food," Iris told him. "She's our cook. We're late, so she probably took everything back to the kitchen to keep it warm for us."

"Does she know we're coming?" he asked.

Iris nodded. "I told her when we came into the house earlier. I also checked in on her before I came out to get you."

So Iris had gone out to bring Mick into the house. So they'd spent some time alone, just like Chuck and Violet. Violet stole a glance across the table and spied Jake gazing at Rose again, but Rose kept her eyes down on the table in front of her.

Violet opened her mouth to fill the silence up with some nonsense or other when the cook herself came in with a tureen of soup. She served it out to the three couples as they sat in silence, waiting for her to leave. Violet glanced from one of her sisters to the other, from one man to the other.

Mick and Iris stared straight ahead of them without the slightest indication anyone else occupied the room. Rose kept her eyes down, but Jake gazed around the room with a slight smile on his lips, taking everything with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. When Violet looked at Chuck, and he smiled at her. He probably would have taken her hand again if she hadn't turned away.

Rita left the room, and only after the door clicked shut behind her did the six diners stir to life. Yet still they didn't speak. For a long time, only the slurping and sipping of soup filled the room. In the end, Jake let his spoon clatter into the bowl and gave a loud sigh. "That hit the spot. What's for dessert?"

Iris's eyes flew open, and then she laughed. "That's just the soup course, silly. Rita will bring the main course next."

"What is the main course?" Chuck asked.

Iris flashed him a winning smile. "Beef, of course."

The three men exchanged a quick look and erupted in laughter. "Excuse me," Chuck exclaimed. "I should have assumed."

Rita brought the roast in, a dish of potatoes, and another of greens and cabbage. The three couples waited in silence until the cook placed the plates on the table and left the room.

"This looks capital," Jake remarked. "Thank you for arranging all this. This beats the pants off train station food any day of the week. I can't think of the last time I had a home cooked meal."

"It was all Violet's doing," Rose told him. "She planned the whole thing, and Rita even uses Violet's recipes."

Jake and Mick raised their eyebrows at Violet. She moved her cabbage around in her dish to stop them seeing her cheeks burning.

"That's pretty good goin'," Chuck put in. "This roast smells delicious. And it falls apart perfectly. You don't even have to cut it with a knife." He put a piece in his mouth. "Outstanding. I'm impressed."

Violet smiled at him and lowered her eyes to her plate.

"And she grew the greens in the garden, too," Rose added. "Did she tell you that? Just about everything on this table came from Violet's garden—except for the beef, of course. That came from Iris."

"Just wait until you taste the plum cake," Iris told them. "If you think the meat is good, Chuck, the cake is divine. And it's all hers. She came up with the recipe herself. And she cooked it, too. Don't ever let her tell you that she didn't. Rita runs the kitchen, but when it comes to her plum cake, Violet does everything herself."

"She does?" Chuck asked. "What does she do?"

Iris marked off the steps on her fingers. "She mixes the batter, she controls the fire in the stove, she checks it in the oven, and she takes it out when she decides it's done. She doesn't leave anything to anyone else."

"You ladies sure are something extraordinary," Jake exclaimed. "It's not many women can claim to put on a meal like this, all with the fruits of their own labors."

"Nonsense!" Violet murmured. "Women all over the country do this sort of thing all the time."

"But didn't you tell us," Mick replied. "That you were raised to be high-brow society women, and that Cornell doesn't want you doing this sort of thing? Didn't you tell me you were doing all of this behind his back, to make up for his bad management? Now, that's sayin' something. There's probably not a woman in a thousand who would do that, and there's probably not a woman in a million who could pull it off. And here you sit, the three of you at one table."

"I didn't do it," Rose corrected him. "I'm not doing anything behind Cornell's back. It's Violet and Iris doing everything."

"You're here with us now," Violet reminded her. "You're getting married against his wishes. None of us could get away with this if we weren't all doing it together. I'm grateful to you for that."

"And you've kept our secrets, too," Iris added. "We couldn't do what we do if you weren't helping us pull the wool over Cornell's eyes."

Jake patted her hand on the white tablecloth. "I don't mind. To me, you're just as good as they are." They shared a heartfelt smile.

Chapter 19

"Rita must be keeping your secret, too," Chuck pointed out. "You couldn't be doing any of this with the servants running to the master with tales of your exploits."

"Oh, she _is_ keeping it," Violet replied. "She does a marvelous job of helping me make up the fake accounts to show him what we didn't spend on food and supplies."

"It's the same with Pete Kershaw and Wade Jackson," Iris added. "They help me convince Cornell the ranch is running the way he wants it to run. They don't tell him about the decisions I make, and they help cover up the results so he doesn't find out."

"Not that you have much to worry about with him finding out," Rose remarked. "He barely sets foot outside the house, much less ride out onto the range to see for himself. He takes Pete's word for what's going on, how many head are in which pastures, how many calves the cows gave birth to, and everything else. You don't have anywhere near as hard a time as Violet has, covering her tracks around the house."

"And that tale you told us up at the Fort House about mending his clothes when he's not looking," Mick recalled. "Now that was impressive. I don't think I've ever met a woman who would try that and get away with it. Your mending skills must be as good as any professional tailor."

Violet blushed. "I'm okay."

"Okay?" Iris scoffed. "She can mend Cornell's suit jackets so well, a professional tailor would have trouble finding the repair. She makes all our dresses so Cornell can't tell the difference between her work and dresses bought from shops in Butte or even mail-ordered from Denver. He would pay for it, and she's good enough to make him think we did. That's how good she is."

"And she made our wedding dresses, too. Do you know what she did?" Rose laughed at the memory. "She got Wade's sister to drive out here from Butte with her sewing basket and measuring tape. Then she went through a big charade, pretending to measure us up for our wedding dresses."

"Did Cornell watch?" Jake asked,

"You better believe he did!" Violet exclaimed. "I almost fainted in fear that he would figure out what we were doing. He sat through the whole measuring operation and watched and asked questions about every detail. It was a very thorough fitting session, I can tell you!"

"I don't think Betty ever measured anyone for anything before in her life," Iris reported. "But she sure put on a convincing show."

"We told Cornell she worked for a high-end dressmaker out of San Francisco," Violet continued. "We said we were ordering our wedding dresses from them, and they would ship the dresses out on the stage. When Betty left, I walked her out to her buggy and she gave me the paper with all the measurements. Two weeks ago, we drove down to Butte and pretended to pick up the dresses. We even got some big boxes to not carry them into the house."

"That's a lot of trouble to go through to make your own wedding dresses," Jake pointed out.

"It was a lot of trouble," Violet admitted. "But can you imagine what it would have cost to get our dresses made in San Francisco and sent up here? And when you think about the ranch not doing so well, I just couldn't live with it—not when I can do just as good a job myself."

"Cornell will never know the difference," Rose assured her.

"He probably won't even attend the wedding," Violet replied. "From the way he's been acting, I wouldn't be surprised if he boycotts it."

"Do you really think he will?" Rose asked. "I thought he considered it his duty as our guardian to attend, even if he doesn't approve."

"Like I told you before," Violet told her. "He thinks he'll convince us to call it off."

Rose opened her mouth to ask her something, but Mick interrupted. "I suppose you ladies have the festivities for Friday all planned out. I suppose you have a big cake and flowers and the whole nine yards. Do ya?"

"Nothing like that," Violet told him. "Rita will make a cake, but it won't be big. After all, there's just the six of us and Cornell."

"Pete and Wade might come up," Iris put in."

"What?" Violet exclaimed. "Don't they have work to do?"

"There's always work to do," Iris replied. "But I told them they could come up if they wanted to. I told them they could take half the day off."

"That's a bit out of the ordinary, don't you think?" Violet asked. "After all, they're our employees. They aren't exactly family, that they should attend our wedding."

"They might not be family to you, Violet," Iris shot back. "But they are to me. They might be employees, but they've been running this ranch almost alone ever since Daddy died. And they ran it with him for fifteen years before that. We have Pete and Wade to thank for this ranch as much as anyone else."

"But still..."Violet began.

"I invited them, and they're coming—if they want to," Iris declared. "They're more family than Cornell, if you ask me."

The company shifted in their seats, and Violet jumped in to change the subject.

"To answer your question, Mick," she continued. "We don't have fancy decorations, either. The three of us have our wedding dresses, but the service will take place in the back parlor. We can all stand witness for one another. But we don't have anything very ostentatious planned. You'll be relieved at that, I suppose."

"It just makes practical sense to me," Mick replied. "As you say, there's just the six of us, and I guess your man Cornell will be there, too, so there's no point in going all out with the decorations. The whole shootin' match'll be over in a couple of hours. Then it'll be back to business."

"You'll be happy when it is, won't you?" Jake asked him.

Mick shrugged one shoulder. "I never went in for all that elaborate flowers and organ music and party favors and whatnot. We're getting married, not puttin' on a carnival. What's the point of putting up all those decorations when you're just gonna take 'em down in an hour or two. Makes no sense to me. Just get up in front of the minister, say the mumbo-jumbo, and get on with the rest of your life. The end."

"That's you," Chuck chimed in. "Mr. Romantic."

Iris flushed and let out a shocked little gasp.

Mick glanced to his right and to his left and shifted in his chair again. "Nothin' to do with romantic. Just plain foolishness, if you ask me."

"Your bride might think differently," Violet pointed out.

Mick shot Iris a sidelong look. "If she wants to do it, I sure won't stand in the way. But unless I miss my guess, she doesn't care much one way or the other." He caught Iris's eye, and the two exchanged a smile. Then Iris reached over and squeezed his hand.

So they were doing it, too. Violet breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't getting ahead of her sisters.

Chapter 20

"It would be nice," Chuck remarked. "If no one came, if it was just us. I think that would be the best way. After all, we're the new family. Everyone else is just extra. We oughta stick to just the six of us. Make a statement to the rest of 'em about the way things are going to be from now on. That's what I think."

"You're darn right there, Chuck," Mick boomed out. "I'm with ya."

"Chuck is right," Rose piped up. "After the wedding, we aren't going to want to share this place with anyone. We should make that clear right from the start. Whatever anyone's done for us in the past, it's in the past. We're making a clean break and starting fresh. What better way to let everyone know than to have a private wedding just between us."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Violet replied.

"I know you don't think it's such a good idea," Rose shot back. "But, if you think about it, we're basically doing the same thing right now, don't you think? We're discussing and planning how we're going to deal with the people outside this room. We didn't invite Cornell to this supper."

"I did," Violet replied. "I encouraged him to come so he could meet these men and get to know them."

"What did you do that for?" Iris asked.

"He made a terrible stink about our marriages when I found him in the library," Violet explained. "He said our fortune would be squandered if we went through with these marriages. He even called you men...." She stopped. Why had she gone this far? She should have kept her confrontation with Cornell to herself.

They waited. "Say it," Mick commanded.

Violet glanced to her right and found Chuck staring at her, waiting. She stared wildly around the room, but they all fixed her with the same expectant stare. She had no choice but to tell them. "He called you dirty. He threatened to disinherit me if I went through with the marriage."

"He wouldn't!" Iris gasped.

"That's what I thought," Violet cried. "But he said he held me personally responsible for this whole situation, and he said he would disinherit the rest of you, too, if we didn't call off the wedding."

"Can he really do that?" Chuck asked. "He doesn't have the authority to cut all three of you off. What would he do with the estate, if he did? There would be no legal heirs."

"That's what I said," Violet told him. "I was just joking when I said it, but I asked if he planned to take all the money for himself."

"What did he say to that?" Chuck asked.

"He said he could and he would," Violet replied. "He said we'd call off the wedding if we didn't want to wind up in the street."

Chapter 21

A hush fell over the table. Violet hated herself for revealing Cornell's threat. She should never have given it a moment's thought. She should have treated it as so much hot air. Now, she couldn't force herself to look at any of her sisters or their prospective husbands.

"That low-down snake!" Mick growled under his breath. "Just wait until I get my hands on him. I'll teach him his place!"

"What did you say to him, Violet?" Chuck asked. "What did you say when he threatened to disinherit all of you?"

"I told him about our conversation in the buggy," Violet replied. "I told him Rose and Iris and the rest of you wanted to get rid of him, and that I was the only one still defending him. I told him that, if he knew what was good for him, he would treat you men and us as generously and kindly as he could, or _he_ could wind up in the street."

Chuck stared at her. "You told him that?"

"Of course!" Violet cried. "He's been such a colossal boor these last few weeks. Rose and Iris don't know the half of it because I kept it to myself. But Cornell has done nothing but badger me day and night about this mail-order marriage. I've had enough of it! I've almost come around to your way of seeing things. If he can't at least be civil to us, then he doesn't belong here."

"Good for you, Violet," Iris exclaimed.

Chuck shook his head. "He's a blasted fool for driving you to it. Like you say, if he'd just mind his manners, you would probably defend him until the cows come home. He could have a pretty comfortable life here, if he would only be civil to us."

"He wouldn't even come here tonight to meet you," Violet told him. "When he called you dirty—I can only assume he meant because you're cowboys—I told him to come along and meet you for himself. I said he'd understand that these marriages will be good for us and for the ranch, and he would see that the moment he saw all of us together. I don't see how anyone could look at the six of us and not know that. But he wouldn't come."

"We don't need him anyway," Jake added. Violet jumped nearly out of her seat when he finally spoke. His voice sounded velvety and gentle, but it sent shivers up her spine. "We shouldn't give him another thought. He isn't worth our consideration."

"But how should we deal with him?" Iris asked. "We need a plan, in case he tries to disinherit us. You don't know him the way we do. He has every banker and lawyer in the territory yapping at his heels."

"We don't need a plan," Jake replied. "He can't do it. All we have to do is get married. Once that happens, he'll be completely helpless. There isn't time for him to disinherit any of you before the wedding and once you're legally married, all your money passes to your husbands. He can't do anything. He's just trying to frighten you."

"That's what I told him," Violet related. "But I didn't half believe it myself."

"It's true," Jake maintained.

"How do you know?" Violet laughed. "What are you, some kind of lawyer?"

Jake's black eyes cut straight through her. "Yes."

Her mouth flew open in astonishment. "But you said you were a cowboy!"

Jake crossed his legs at the knee and leaned against the back of the chair. "I am."

"But you can't be both!" Violet exclaimed.

Jake studied her across the table. Then he took a deep breath. "I went to work as a horse wrangler when I was fifteen. A draft horse stepped on my foot when I was hitching him to a wagon and he broke my foot. I was sitting in a hospital bed for six months while I waited for it to heal up. While I was there, I began to read some books in the hospital library. I became interested in the law, so I decided to study it."

"Where was this?" Chuck asked.

"Down in Texas," Jake replied. "I come from San Antonio, but I broke my foot in Galveston. So there I was, sitting around with not much to do for six months. So I read a bunch of books and took a bunch of tests. Then I received the results of the tests, and I got a job offer from a firm in Houston."

"What did you do?" Violet asked.

"I told 'em I didn't really want to work in an office all the time," Jake told her. "My foot healed up, and I went back to breakin' wild horses. So now you know." He glanced around the table at the five faces staring at him in amazement. At last, his eye settled on Violet. "If Cornell threatens you again, I suggest you send him packing then and there. The longer he hangs around, the more dangerous he could become. Get rid of him now. He won't ever come around to being civil to us."

"I don't think I can do that," Violet replied.

Jake examined her. "You're a decent person at the bottom. I'm a pretty good judge of people, and I can tell you have a tender heart, especially for anyone you've formed an attachment with. Cornell has been a crucial part of your life for years, and you're naturally reluctant to see him booted out on his ear."

Violet blinked back tears. "It just doesn't seem right, that's all."

Jake's eyes never left her face. "I know people pretty well. You might not believe it, but I do. Good, decent, kind people like you think everyone else in the world is like you. You think even a person like Cornell is good and decent and kind underneath it all. You think you can reason with him and get him to understand. But you can't. He doesn't think the same way you do. He doesn't want to make things up with you, and he doesn't want to find a way to understand you. He won't ever come around to your way of thinking."

"So what is there to do about him?" Violet asked.

"Shoot him like a mad dog," Jake declared. "Get rid of him, and don't ever let him back inside your house as long as he lives. That's all there is to do with a man like Cornell."

"But you don't even know him," Violet pointed out. "You've never even laid eyes on him. What you're saying is just as bad as what he said about you."

"There's one difference," Jake replied. "I'm not the one threatening people for even associating with him. I'm not threatening to throw three lovely young ladies out into the street for having supper with him."

Violet glanced around the table again. No one except Jake would look at her, and she couldn't stand to hold his gaze any longer. He saw too much of her innermost self, the part of her no one saw—not even Chuck. "This is all too much for me," she whimpered.

Jack turned back to Rose. "If you think about it a little bit, you'll realize that sending him away, and keeping this place for ourselves and our families, is the kindest thing we can do for him. What surprises me is that he isn't smart enough to realize that. You would think a man of his talents and intelligence would see which side his bread is buttered on. Instead, he's too stubborn and malicious to play second fiddle to your husband's—whoever they might be. He's too old and set in his ways, I guess. He'll cut off his nose to spite his face."

Chapter 22

Violet heard the clock chime in the back parlor. She turned to Chuck. "We should go out for our walk before it gets too late."

Chuck nodded, and the other two couples passed communications silently to each other through their eyes. Without agreeing on it, all three couples rose from the table and drifted apart.

Chuck and Violet meandered out of the dining room and back to the front door. Just outside the dining room, Chuck took her hand again, and her heart soared at the thought of walking out alone with him into the night world.

They turned the corner into the front hall and ran face first into Cornell.

"Oh, Cornell!" Violet exclaimed. "I didn't know you were here."

"Where are you going at this hour, Violet?" Cornell rumbled.

"We were just going out for a walk in the moonlight," Violet explained. "By the way, I don't think you've had the pleasure of meeting my fiancé. This is Chuck Ahern. And this is Cornell Pollard, my guardian."

Chuck put his hand out. "How do you do?"

Cornell glared at the hand and at Chuck. "I don't care to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ahern. I suppose Violet told you that already that I disapprove of your presence here."

"Yeah," Chuck replied. "She told me."

"Violet," Cornell continued. "As your uncle and guardian, I'm ordering you to go back upstairs to your room. Mr. Ahern, if you can't leave Rocking Horse Ranch immediately, I'll thank you to go back to the Fort House and stay there until you can leave. You aren't welcome here."

"You're in no position to order anyone to do anything," Violet snapped. "You've had your way with me and my sisters all these years, and you'll never order me to do anything again. Do you hear me? You are the one who should go back to the Bird House until you learn to speak civilly to us. This is our house, not yours."

"I think you misunderstand the situation, Violet," Cornell replied. "I will be the one who decides who comes and who goes in this house, and I will also be the one who ultimately decides who you three young women marry. That is my right and my responsibility as your guardian. You may not value me as such, but that is my role and I intend to fulfill it."

Violet drew herself up to her full height. "It may surprise you to learn, Cornell, that Jake Hamilton, Rose's fiancé, is a lawyer. He says you have no right to use our estate to control our lives. Once we marry these men, the estate will pass to them no matter what you say. You would do better to accustom yourself to that fact."

Cornell raised an eyebrow. "A lawyer, huh? Well, I have a lawyer, too, and I'm sure he's a much better one than Jake Hamilton of God-knows-where."

"San Antonio," Chuck put in.

"Of San Antonio," Cornell corrected himself. "Now go upstairs, Violet, before I take you there myself."

"You'll do no such thing," Violet shot back.

"You don't think so?" Cornell stepped forward and reached out to grab her arm.

Chuck matched him by taking a step of his own forward, and he thrust his arm between Cornell and Violet to block the older man's move. "Don't even think of laying a hand on the lady, Mister. I don't know you from Adam, but by God, as sure as I'm standing here, you won't lay a finger on her or I'll make you pay for it."

Cornell fumed and raged. "Pay for it, will I? I'll show you!"

Violet never saw Cornell move so fast. She never knew a man of his age could move so fast in the heat of anger. Cornell flailed his arms to one side, knocking Chuck out of the way. Chuck staggered backward and tripped over.

Violet screamed, "Chuck!" but it was too late. Chuck pitched over and cracked his head against the corner of the wall where it turned toward the dining room. He grunted once and slumped into a pile on the floor. He didn't move again.

With Chuck out of the way, Cornell made another grab for Violet. His fingers locked around her arm, and he yanked her toward the stairs at the end of the hall. She shrieked as loud as she could in the hopes of rousing someone in another part of the house. She didn't know if any of her sisters or their fiancés were still in the house, but even Rita would do. Let anyone come who could help her fend off Cornell.

She tugged and wrenched at her arm, but he held her as tight as a vice. Pulling at it hurt worse than his iron grip, but her desperation to get free only made her fight harder. He hauled her down the hall to the foot of the stairs, fighting all the way. By the time they got there, cries of panic prevented her from making any louder appeal for help.

Cornell put his foot on the first step to drag her upstairs, but the finality of the move jolted Violet out of her helplessness. She lashed out with her free arm and struck Cornell as hard as she could across the side of the head.

He flinched in pain, but not enough to let go of her arm. Seeing some effect from her efforts, she reared back and struck again. Cornell roared in rage and brought his own arms up to protect his head, but too late.

With one deafening bellow, he swung his arm with the hand at the end balled into a fist and clubbed Violet to the floor. The force sent her sprawling across the hall, and her shoulder knocked against a plant stand near the dining room door.

Chapter 23

She stared up at the towering figure of Cornell at the foot of the stairs, and she couldn't even recognize him. Where was the kindly uncle who managed all their affairs so selflessly through their formative years? Where was the man she revered as a second father or grandfather? Where was the guardian she turned to for advice and protection?

Cornell never turned his hand against any of the sisters before. Had he suffered some sort of apoplectic spell? Had he suddenly taken to drink? Certainly the sisters' mail-order marriages couldn't have driven him beyond his senses. But she didn't stop to try to reason with him or find out the cause of his bizarre behavior.

Something snapped in Violet's mind. Her ability to rationalize deserted her, and her body took over her brain. She never could understand afterward what impelled her to act. Some force beyond her comprehension took control of her arms and legs and exploded out of her in a whirlwind of motion.

Violet launched herself up off the floor with a violent screech, her teeth bared and her fingernails flexed like the claws of a wild cat. Her feet didn't touch the floor as she sailed across the hall and hit Cornell with all her weight.

She knocked him backward, and he landed on his back on the incline of the stairs. But Violet didn't stop there. She leapt on top of his prostrate form, screaming her insanity to the rafters. She seized Cornell by the tufts of hair on the side of his head and slammed his head down again and again onto the stair underneath him.

The first two times she delivered these blows, Cornell grunted in pain. He stared up at the banshee on top of him in terror, unable to rally his own hands to fight her off. The third and fourth blows drew whimpers of agony from him. His eyes rolled up in their sockets, and a wet dark patch stained the edge of the stair under his head.

Violet couldn't stop herself, even when she saw him losing consciousness in her hands. She wanted to drop his sweaty bleeding head and run from the house, but her body wouldn't stop slamming him down, lifting him up, and driving him down again. Each blow sent a sickening shudder through her body. How could she ever rid herself of this memory?

Cornell lapsed into hollow grunting underneath her and probably would have died on those stairs had Chuck not pulled Violet off him. Violet heard his voice in her ear, but she couldn't make out the words. Cornell's hair tore out in her clenched fists, but Chuck dragged her off him.

The same mindless shriek still poured out of her mouth, and she kicked and scratched at Chuck's hands and arms to get back at Cornell, but he held her until they retreated to the front door of the house.

Cornell rolled onto his side with a moan and lurched up into a sitting position. He tried to speak, but only a muffled growl of pain came out of his mouth. He leaned forward to get his feet under him, but fell back down onto the stairs. "You'll pay for this," he grumbled. "I'll get you for this."

_"We'll_ pay for this!" Violet screeched. " _You'll_ pay for this! You had your chance to stay on good terms with us and this is how you act! I would have stood your friend through life and death, and this is how you treat me!"

"You'll live to regret this," Cornell rumbled through gritted teeth. "I'll see you thrown in jail for this, and I'll see your sweetheart there driven out of the territory."

Violet went still except for her hard panting breath. "You better pack your bags, Cornell. Come Friday morning, you'll never set foot in this house again, and if I never set eyes on your face for the rest of my life, it will be too soon."

She didn't hear his answer. Chuck pulled her the rest of the way out of the house and slammed the door behind them.

The lamplight of the front hall vanished behind them. The crisp night air and dreamy moonlight sealed the breach between the inner world of the house and the outside world of shadows and fantasies.

Violet gazed around her at the open range awash in crystal moonlight. All of a sudden, Chuck's hand enfolded hers, and she opened her eyes as if recognizing for the first time where she was. His touch, his presence, his essence grounded her and cleared her thoughts of everything that just happened.

"Are you okay?" Chuck asked.

Violet shuddered. Finally, she nodded. "I'm all right. How about you? You had a hard fall. I thought you might be hurt."

Chuck rubbed the back of his head. "I'm all right. I blacked out for a minute, and when I opened my eyes, he was trying to pull you up the stairs. I saw you hit him, and he knocked you over. The next thing I knew, you were beating the ever-loving tar outta that man." He shook his head. "Boy howdy! I wouldn't want to be him right now."

Violet stared down at her hands. Bloody hair was still tangled around her fingers. "I've never done anything like that before. You have to believe me. I don't know what happened to me. Something made me do it. I don't know what."

"You don't have to explain," Chuck told her. "I saw what happened. If it comes to explaining anything to anyone, we can both vouch for each other. He struck the first blow when he knocked me down. And you hit him in fear for your own safety. You attacked him only after he hit you back. It was all self defense."

"I don't know what on earth made Cornell act like that," Violet remarked. "I've never seen him so crazed."

Chuck cocked his head on one side. "No? Hasn't he ever done this sort of thing before?"

"Never!" Violet declared. "He's always been the most mild-mannered gentleman you could imagine. I just don't understand it."

Chuck rubbed his chin, and the two of them began walking away from the house, out onto the range. "I guess he was a mild-mannered gentleman as long as he had his way around here. As soon as you ladies started standing up to him, making your own decisions and telling him where to stick it if he didn't like it, he lost control. Sounds to me like the mild-mannered gentleman was just a mask he wore to hide his other side. This was the real Cornell we saw tonight."

"Don't say that!" Violet cried. "I just can't believe it! I've loved him and looked up to him all my life. I can't believe this is the real Cornell."

"How do you explain it, then?" Chuck asked

Violet shook her head again. "I can't explain it. Maybe he suffered a psychotic episode, or an attack of brain fever, or....or....I don't know, or anything."

Chuck gazed out over the pasture. "You might be right. But it doesn't change the fact that he attacked us. Whatever the cause, he's dangerous. We'll have to look out for ourselves and we have to warn the others about him. They could be in danger from him, too, if he's that worked up about us getting married against his wishes."

Chapter 24

They reached the corner of the fence where two pastures joined. Chuck leaned against the fence and turned his face up to the moon.

Violet sighed. "Thank you for what you did in there."

Chuck's eyes snapped back to her face. "What for? I didn't do anything."

"I mean," Violet explained. "For getting me out of there. I appreciate the way you stepped between Cornell and I, and I'm grateful you pulled me off of him when you did. I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn't been there."

"You don't have to thank me," Chuck told her. "If I hadn't been there, none of this would have happened. Besides, you're the one who beat the stuffing out of him. I was lying on my face on the floor. Who knows what Cornell would have done if _you_ hadn't been there. I should be thanking you."

Violet giggled. "Do you really think so?"

"I tell you what," Chuck replied. "Let's forget all about it. We're here to get to know each other better before we get married on Friday. I thought we agreed we weren't going to talk about Cornell anymore, and that's exactly what we're doing. Let's just pretend like it never happened and go back to being happy to be together."

Violet looked up at the stars. "It isn't fair to you, but I don't think I can ever forget it. I wish I could. I wish I could pretend it never happened, but it did. I don't know what to do about it, but I don't think anything will ever be the same, especially after I told him to pack his bags. Now all of us are against Cornell. I was the last person to back him, and now I'm not. Things could get ugly."

Chuck took her hand and pulled her closer to him. "I hate to tell you this, darlin', but things are already ugly. He just attacked both of us, and you smashed his head against the stairs. It doesn't get any uglier than that."

"I suppose not." Violet said, blinked the sting of tears out of her eyes.

Chuck pulled on her arm again. "Look at me."

Violet surveyed the ground at her feet. "I'm sorry about all this."

"Look at me," he commanded again, and this time, she peered into his eyes. The moon reflected off the shining surface of his eyes, and his nostrils flared not so very far from her face. "Listen to me, Violet."

Had he called her by her name before? Where were they, anyway? Were they in the middle of the pasture, with the Montana frontier stretched out for miles in every direction? Was she Violet Kilburn? Was she Violet Ahern? Did it really matter anymore?

"Listen to me," Chuck continued. "This was not your fault. You don't have to apologize for anything. You've done everything anyone could to stop this from happening, and what you just did to Cornell is the same thing any sane person would have done. I would have done it myself if he hadn't got the jump on me. If you ask me, you're a flamin' hero."

Violet burst out laughing and touched the corner of her sleeve to her eye. "Do you think so?"

"Absolutely," Chuck declared. "You saved both of us, and I'm delighted to find out what sort of a woman I'm going to marry."

"Really?" Violet squeezed his hand.

His mouth cracked into a broad grin, and the moon shone on the surface of his teeth. "Really. Now, honestly, can we stop talking about Cornell for just a little while? I didn't come out here to talk about him and I've had about all I can stand of him for now."

Violet laughed again. "Okay."

Chuck pushed himself off the fence. "Where should we go? Do you know a place we can sit down together?"

"I know a place," Violet told him.

"I hope it's not the barn," Chuck remarked. "Mick and Iris could be in there, or Jake and Rose, or even Mick and Iris and Jake and Rose." He pretended to look around the ranch. "Where can a person get off alone around here?"

"Don't worry," Violet assured him. "Where we're going, we will definitely be alone."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure," she replied.

"How can you be sure?" he asked.

"I'm just sure," she replied. "Trust me. No one will be there."

Chuck shook his head. "All right. I guess I have no choice but to trust you."

"No one will be there," she repeated. "But if they are, we can just go somewhere else. I can guarantee you, Mick and Iris and Jake and Rose will be together, wherever they are."

"That's for certain," Chuck muttered.

They came around the corner of the field, and the house swung around to the other side of them. Violet led Chuck a little further and then he looked right and left as if he couldn't believe his eyes. "Here?"

Violet smiled. "Yes."

"Are you certain?" he asked again.

"Listen," she told him. "No one will be in here. They'll be off together somewhere. They definitely won't be here, because they'll want to be alone. They'll be too worried about someone coming. They won't be here."

Chuck glanced up at the Fort House. Its windows stood cold and dark in the moonlight. The house was deserted. "All right. Let's go in."

Chapter 25

They tiptoed up the steps to the porch, and Violet opened the door. The interior yawned black and empty, and she took the first step into the front room. Chuck followed. Violet heard his breathing behind her. The house hung still and silent all around them, blocking out the light of the stars and moon. She took a few more steps and put out her hand to feel for the table.

When she felt it, she groped her way further into the house to the shelf next to the wood stove. She let her fingers walk along it until she found the box of matches that always stayed by the stove. She took out a match and struck it. Just next to the matches, a candle stood in a pewter candleholder. She touched the delicate flame to the wick, and a fragile halo of light spread through the room.

Violet took the candle back to the table. The light cast ghostly shadows around Chuck's eye sockets and cheekbones. He breathed again in the dark. "It sure is quiet," he whispered.

Violet snickered. "You wanted to be alone. Now we are." They listened to the heavy silence. A square of white shone onto the floor through the open door. Other than that, only the candle lighted the room. Violet took Chuck's hand. "Come sit down. I'll light another candle or two so we can see better. But I don't think there's any chance of Mick or Jake coming back here, not for a while, anyway."

She led him into the room and showed him to the settee by the stairs. Then she shut the door and went back to the kitchen. She came back with two more candles and set them on the shelf next to the settee. At last, she settled herself next to Chuck.

She took his hand again. "So," she breathed. "Here we are."

"Here we are," he replied.

Another long silence filled the room. They both breathed heavily, and their breath mingled between their two faces. Did her own face look as vacuous and hollow as his did? The surreal light lent a magical mystery to the moment.

Everything she knew or ever learned about the way men and women acted together when they found themselves alone vanished from her memory. The house, her family, and all the laws and conventions of propriety meant nothing now. Nothing separated her from this man. Nothing prevented her from giving herself to him, from belonging to him.

A slight pressure reminded her they were still holding hands. What happened next? "So what do you want to do, now that we're alone together?"

He didn't answer. He shifted her hand to his other, free hand, and placed the other one on her shoulder. Then he slid his arm around her shoulder and drew her to him. She smelled the meat on his breath from the supper table. Other smells of him filled her nostrils with the bloom of the range. The smells of horse, and leather, and dust hung around him like a perfume. She knew those smells. She knew the man who carried those smells. He could be no other.

The candle light shone in his eyes. He leaned forward, and his lips grazed against hers. The warmth of his mouth melted the chill of the night from her face and rippled down her neck. She never tasted any wine as strong as his kiss.

He pulled back to look at her in the candlelight, and their breath joined in the still air between them. His lips landed on her mouth again, lingering, feeling the soft welcome she gave them. Then he pulled back again. "It's going to be a long wait until Friday."

"But worth it," she pointed out.

"So, so worth it." Again, his butterfly kiss breathed its warmth into her lips. Her lips flamed with excitement, and her heart raced in her chest.

"I didn't think it would be like this," she told him.

"What did you think it would be like?" he asked.

"We got you men to run the ranch," she reminded him. "I didn't think I would feel this way about you. I didn't really think about it at all. But when I did, I didn't think I would feel anything much for you. I thought it would be more of a business arrangement between us."

His eyes bored into her in the dark. "I guess I thought the same sort of thing. I didn't think it would be like this, either. I thought we would probably keep our distance, at least right at the start. I didn't think we'd just fall into place together, like we were made for each other."

"I know!" Violet breathed. "I feel like I'm coming home after being away for a long time, or that I'm finding out who I am for the first time. I don't know how to explain it."

"I know what you mean," Chuck replied. "All that silly nonsense about the prince and princess falling in love at first sight and living happily ever after really is true after all. I never would have believed it if it hadn't happened to me."

So he felt it, too. "Do you think the others feel this way?"

Chuck nodded. "From what I've seen of the way they're acting, I'd say they are. All of us are walking around with our heads in the clouds. I saw the way Mick and Jake acted on the train. Believe me, they feel this way, too. I guess you've seen it in your sisters."

"I have," Violet confirmed. "Rose was always in the clouds, but I've never seen her act toward anyone the way she's acting with Jake. The two of them just sit there and stare into each other's eyes for hours. I don't think they took their eyes off each other once on the trip back from Butte."

"I noticed that," Chuck replied. "And Mick and Iris both go all shy and smiling when they look at each other. I'm telling you, I don't think Mick smiled once from Santa Fe all the way to Butte. I rode with him pretty much all the way, and talked to him, so I know. And he sure wasn't shy."

Chapter 26

She hesitated. "Do you think...."

"What?" he asked.

"You said you talked to Mick on the train up here," she began. "Do you think he might be....dangerous?"

"Mick!" Chuck exclaimed. "No way! What makes you think that?"

"I don't know," Violet faltered. "It's just the way he beat that man up at the train station. I guess it's just my first impression of him. And then the way he got out his guns when we first arrived here. It made my blood run cold to watch him."

Chuck thought the matter over. "I don't think he's dangerous. He acted pretty normal on the trip up here. He didn't beat anyone up or shoot anyone, although he was wearing a gun belt the whole time. You know how it is."

"It isn't that," Violet replied. "I've seen men wearing guns and carrying rifles around all my life. And I've seen men getting into fights, too. Why, you can't set foot in the town of Butte without seeing someone getting mauled in the street. But Mick is different."

"Different, how?" Chuck asked. "He seems like your regular ol' cowboy to me."

"I know you're right," Violet replied. "He just seems like kind of a violent brute to me."

"I'm wearing a gun belt," Chuck pointed out. "And so is Jake. He wasn't wearing it on the train, but he is now."

"I know he is." Violet shivered at the memory of Jake strapping his guns on.

"What's wrong now?" Chuck asked.

"Jake," she told him. "Something about him makes my blood run cold, too."

"What? Not Jake, too! Now I know you're not thinkin' straight. Jake's the sharpest, shrewdest, straightest tack in the box. You take my word for it. I don't think I've met a man in my life who's as clear-headed and straight-dealin' as Jake Hamilton. You should be glad your sister's marrying him. I wish mine was."

"Do you think so?" sh asked.

"Listen," he told her. "I talked to Jake a lot on the train out here, and I think I have a pretty good idea what sort of man he is. That Mick McAllister, he's a regular brick. He's solid and decent and hard-working. He's the salt of the earth. But that Jake Hamilton, he's another class of man altogether."

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"He's fine," Chuck replied. "I don't know how else to explain it, but he's pure and clear and fine. You know what he reminds me of? He reminds me of iron that has been smelted and beaten and refined and poured into a mold to make a clear strong bell. You can beat it until you're blue in the face, and it will just keep ringing the purest, clearest note you can imagine. It doesn't bend, or break, or crack, or move when you beat it. It just keeps ringing. You probably think I've lost my mind, talking like this."

Violet squeezed his hand. "No. but it's a lot to say about a person."

"It's true," Chuck told her. "You'll see."

"I guess I just don't know him," Violet remarked.

"You'll get to know him," Chuck replied. "And then you'll see that I'm right. You'll see I'm right about him and Mick. I'm just glad I'm out here with them. You won't find two better men the world over."

"I'm glad you think so," Violet told him. "If you think so, I'm prepared to believe it."

"That's the way!" he exclaimed. "Besides, your sisters sure do seem to like 'em."

"That's the truth," Violet replied. "I don't think I've seen either Rose or Iris act this way around anyone before. They can't stop smiling and going red in the face."

"And Jake and Mick act the same way," Chuck pointed out. "I guess we're acting that way, too, come to think of it."

"It sounds like all of us are lovestruck," Violet remarked.

Chuck moved closer. "I know I am."

He kissed her again, and this time, he caressed her cheek in his other hand. Violet let her head fall against his palm, and he cradled her in his arms. Oh, to drift away on that swaying stream of bliss! Soon, soon, she would ride away on it into a sea of forgotten harmony and never give a second thought to anything else.

Before she knew it, the kiss turned into something else entirely. Chuck's breath quickened, and he pressed his lips more firmly against her mouth, more insistently, more commandingly. It only seemed natural to open her mouth slightly to accommodate the additional pressure, and when she did, his tongue darted in and tickled hers.

A fork of lightning shot through her and rocked her to her core. Instead of drifting away on a sea of bliss, she jerked upright and almost tore herself out of his arms. Chuck immediately withdrew, and his eyes sought her out in the yellow light. "We shouldn't go too far. We have a long way to go before we're married."

Violet nodded mutely. What a fool she was! Why had she reacted that way? Didn't she long to give herself to him? Didn't she dream day and night of nothing else? What if he turned away from her? What if her sudden repulsion disappointed him and he changed his mind about marrying her? Had she thrown away her future on this man? She only just met him! Who was he that she should give herself to him?

The thought of separating from him struck her with grief and misery. Oh, please, don't let it be! Don't let him cast her away, not after all they'd been through that day! Was it only today she'd met him at the station? Was it only today Cornell threatened to cut her off? Was it only today she nearly cracked his head open on the stairs for raising his hand against Chuck?

Chapter 27

Chuck studied her. But he didn't take his arms away from her the way she feared he would. In fact, he didn't withdraw from her at all except to stop kissing her. "It's gonna be awful hard to wait until Friday. Maybe we shouldn't sneak off alone together anymore."

"Why not?" Violet asked. "Don't you want to anymore?"

"Sure, I want to," Chuck replied. "But if we're gonna do things we shouldn't—or almost do things we shouldn't—then maybe we shouldn't go off alone. That's all I'm sayin'. It would be like a refined form of torture, to be so close to you and not be able to touch you and kiss you."

"But...." Violet stammered. "But....but....I want to."

His head flew up. "You want to what?"

"I want to be alone with you," Violet exclaimed. "We don't have to get carried away with anything. That's not what I mean. But I want to go off alone with you. I've waited all this time for you to come, and now you're here. I don't think I could stand it if we didn't. I don't think I could stand to stay apart from you for the next three days."

Chuck smiled. "All right. We'll do it. But let's just stick to the basics—holding hands and maybe kissing. Promise me we won't get all hot and heavy before we're married."

Violet smiled. "I promise. We'll keep calm."

They kissed again, and again, and again, but calmly and tenderly. Violet rocked in her feather-soft cradle, all her cares forgotten.

"What's going on tomorrow," Chuck inquired.

"What do you mean?" Violet asked.

"Do you have anything planned?" he asked. "Any plans for getting ready for the wedding?"

"I don't think so," she replied. "Like Iris told you at supper, Rita's making the cake. Everything else is done. Our dresses, the parlor—it's all ready. We just have to wait for the minister to get here. What about you? What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I guess I'll just have a look around," Chuck told her. "I'll ride out and have a look at the stock. I might talk to your hands about the operation. That sort of thing."

"You could talk to Iris, too," Violet suggested. "She knows as much as anyone about what's going on."

Chuck looked away. "I might."

"You really can trust her," Violet insisted. "Even though she's a woman, she really does know a lot about running the ranch."

"I never said she didn't," Chuck replied.

Violet saw him set his jaw and dropped the subject of Iris.

"Mick and Jake are going out hunting tomorrow," Chuck observed.

"That's what they said," Violet replied.

"If they haven't left by the time I finish looking around, I might go with them," Chuck told her.

Violet lowered her head. "Okay."

"I guess it's time to walk you home," Chuck remarked. "The others'll be coming back soon."

"I guess so," Violet replied.

"Come on." He got up off the settee.

"I can find my own way back," she told him. "You don't have to come. You could stay here. That would help fool the others."

He peered at her in the candlelight. "I don't think they need any foolin'. They know very well what's goin' on."

"I guess you're right," she replied. "But you don't have to walk me back if you don't want to. I can find my way."

"What if you meet Cornell again?" he asked.

"I think he'll stay out of our way from now on," she told him.

"You mean you _hope_ he does," Chuck shot back.

"I hope he does," Violet agreed. "For his sake, I hope he does. You know, I feel kind of sorry for him. He just doesn't understand that he's outmatched now. He's still fighting with the same weapons he used when we were children. He doesn't understand that we're grown women now. And now that you men are here, he doesn't stand a chance."

"He's a blasted fool, is what he is," Chuck grumbled.

"He'll just keep throwing himself at us until he breaks himself," Violet continued. "And he'll do it all because he just doesn't understand."

"He doesn't want to understand," Chuck corrected her. "Jake is right. There's no reasoning with a man like that. Once he loses control of himself, the only thing to do is to get rid of him."

Violet stared into the darkness. "I only wish it hadn't come to that."

Chuck regarded her. "Jake was right about you, too."

"In what way?" she asked.

"He was right about you thinking everyone is like you," Chuck explained. "You know what I think? I think you're probably the most innocent of the three of you."

"Innocent!" she snorted.

"That's right, innocent," Chuck repeated. "You wish it hadn't come to that, but he made it come to that. You did everything you could to prevent it, but he just wouldn't quit until it did come to that. You let him walk all over you for too long. That's why he thought he could get away with man-handling you and making you do what he wanted."

Violet thought it over. "Do you want to know something else?"

"What's that?" he asked.

"I don't think I would have reacted the way I did if he hadn't struck out at you," she told him. "I only went after him when I saw him strike you. Something in me wanted to protect you from him. I don't think I ever would have done it to protect myself. If I'd been alone, I probably would have let him drag me to my room."

"He wouldn't have dragged you to your room if you weren't with me," Chuck reminded her.

"But you know what I mean," Violet insisted. "I snapped, because of the way I feel about you."

"And what is that?" Chuck asked. "How do you feel about me?"

Violet stepped closer to him and put her arms around his waist. "I guess I love you. I did it because I love you."

"You do?" Chuck asked.

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Violet remarked. "I only met you a few hours ago. Is it possible to love someone in such a short time?"

"I don't know," he told her. "I've never loved anyone before. But I know I love you now. I've never been so certain of anything before."

"Me, too," she replied.

Chapter 28

"All right, I love you" Chuck moved toward the door. "Now, let me walk you home before we fall asleep here."

"Stay here," Violet insisted. "If the others come, you being in here already will explain the candles being lit."

"I'm telling you," Chuck repeated. "We don't need to bother trying to fool them. They already know, just like we already know about them. What's the point of trying to keep it a secret?"

"Just call it my female sense of propriety," Violet explained. "If you need a reason, just let me maintain the illusion a little while longer before my maidenhead goes whistling down the wind and I become Mrs. Charles Q. Ahern."

Chuck chuckled. "It isn't 'Q'. It's 'J'."

" 'J'?" Violet asked. "What does that stand for?"

" 'Julius'," he told her.

Violet guffawed. " 'Julius'!"

"That's right." Chuck stiffened. "What's wrong with that?"

Violet laughed even harder. "Julius!"

Chuck furrowed his eyebrows. "You can stop that now."

Violet covered her mouth with her hand, but her giggles still bubbled up from inside her. "I'm sorry."

"You are not!" Chuck barked. "Now stop that this instant! I won't have you calling me Julius! Now stop it!"

Violet bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

"Now get home," Chuck pointed toward the door. "And don't make me have to tell you again."

Violet rushed up to him and kissed him. When she pulled away, he broke out in a grin. "Go on. I'll see you in the morning."

She kissed him again. "Good night."

Their lips just wouldn't come apart, no matter how hard they tried. "Good night. Now get out of here. You're torturing me."

She flashed him a glorious smile and hurried out the door before she raced back to him and threw herself into his arms again. He kissed her once and pushed her away. "Go! Leave me alone!"

She left. She ran down the hill, but when she reached the corner of the fence, she stopped. She didn't want to go back to the house just yet. For one thing, she wanted to wait as long as possible to make sure Cornell wasn't waiting there for her. The last thing in the world she wanted was to run into him again.

She also wasn't finished walking in the moonlight. She came outside to walk in the open air, and she hadn't had a chance when she decided to take Chuck back to the Fort House. She wasn't tired yet. In spite of her long day, she wanted to stay out a little longer. The air cleared her thoughts and refreshed her aching heart.

What a day it had been! It started with her first confrontation with Cornell, followed by the trip to Butte, her first meeting with Chuck and the other two men, and now the final run-in with Cornell. This would go down as one of the most challenging days of her life.

Yet Violet couldn't fault herself for any of her actions, not even smashing Cornell's head into the stairs. She'd merely delivered the final result of all his provocations. She hadn't retaliated at all when he harassed her endlessly about her decision to marry a mail-order husband. She'd barely reacted at all when he threatened to disown not only her, but her sisters as well, if they went through with their plan. And she only lashed out at him violently when he attacked first Chuck and then her.

She strode along the fence line, but she didn't see the stars or the moon. Her mind only rolled over and over all the events of the day. She relived the memory of seeing Mick McAllister brawling in the streets, assaulting a man and taking back his rightful property. She relived her fear and foreboding at going into the hotel saloon to find Jake.

Chuck's description of his two comrades conflicted so deeply with her impressions of them that Violet wondered if he might be mistaken. Maybe they took him in with their talk and good manners. A person could act as politely as he wanted to in a quiet train car. Get him out on the street and he might behave quite differently.

What if Rose and Iris married dangerous men, but only found out their true nature after it was too late? What if Cornell was right about them being wanted outlaws?

And now this final experience of loving Chuck, of the wild insanity of falling into his arms forever. Just thinking about it, remembering his touch and the comforting intimacy of their conversation, sent her spinning out among the stars. Would she ever return to earth again?

Just imagine what would happen on their wedding night, when nothing remained to bring her back! She could discard all the social inhibitions tying her down to the ground and dive head first into him. She could discard this stiff proper body, shedding her skin like a lizard. The confining strictures of self and society would fall away, and she would be pure, unadulterated being.

She could hardly contain her excitement when she thought about it. She felt herself approaching the precipice of annihilation again, and she shook herself to regain her composure. Chuck was right. A few days was a long time to wait.

How stupid all those rules were! How stupid the whole concept of marriage was! Why couldn't they just live like savages and go home together? They knew they loved each other. They knew they wanted to live together and give each themselves to each other. Why not?

Violet stopped at the corner of the fence where Chuck leaned against the top rail. From here, she could see all the range land for a long way around. The moon illuminated the landscape so it shone as bright as daylight.

Was that a black shadow slinking along the back hill and slithering down toward the main house? Was it a coyote, or a person running in a crouch?

The refreshing breeze that just bathed her burning cheeks and forehead turned into a cutting wind, and Violet wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. She started toward the house. Her bed waited for her in her own room. She could rest there. Tomorrow, she would face another exciting day with Chuck.

In spite of fatigue and emotional distress, she slowed to a reluctant walk on the way back. Just a little while longer...

Chapter 29

All of a sudden, a thunderous bang shattered the tranquil night. Violet jumped out of her skin. Another crash rang out, followed by another. A corresponding flash lighted up a window in the house at every bang, and the thud of pounding footsteps scurried through the house.

Violet started toward the house, but stopped. Should she go in and find out what was going on? Could those be gunshots coming from inside the house? If they were, it might be dangerous to go inside. She turned one way, then another, started across the yard, and stopped again.

She just started walking a third time when a figure ran down the hill from the Fort House. The person almost ran straight into Violet, and only skidded to a halt when she called out, "Chuck!"

He peered at her in the moonlight. "Violet! Thank God you're all right!"

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"I heard the shots coming from the house," he told her. "I thought Cornell might have got you."

"Shots?" she asked. "Were those gun shots, do you think?"

"I'm sure of it," he replied. "Three of them. Something's going on in there."

"Do you think it's safe to go in?" Violet asked. "I was going to find out what's going on, but it might be dangerous. Whoever's shooting in there could still be shooting people."

"Who would be shooting people?" Chuck asked. "Who's in there? Your sisters, Rita, maybe Cornell. Who would be shooting?"

Violet glanced toward the house. "I don't know. But maybe we shouldn't go in."

"You stay here. I'll go in and see what's happening." Chuck turned away.

"Wait." She caught his arm. "Don't leave. If you're going in there, I'm coming with you."

"Like you say," he replied. "It could be dangerous. You saw the way Cornell lost his head before. Maybe this is the other shoe dropping. He could be shooting the whole place up. He could be killing everyone in sight."

"I'm not staying out here alone while you go in there," Violet snapped. "No way! If anyone's going in there, we're going together. We faced Cornell together before, and we'll face him together now."

Chuck stared at her through the gloom. "All right. Come on." He took her hand and they started toward the house together.

The house loomed huge and black in the eerie light, and when they stepped up onto the porch, the darkness blocked them in so they clung to each other and groped their way into the front hall. They panted for breath, neither of them willing to take the next step without holding tight to the other.

Chuck shut the door behind them with a soft click, and they paused in the front hall, listening to their own breathing and the echoing silence all around them.

"Wait a minute," Violet whispered.

She tore her hands away from him and groped her way to the hall table, where she lit a candle. They took each other's hands again.

"The shots," Chuck breathed. "Did you hear where they came from?"

"I didn't hear it," she told him. "But there was a flash of light, three of them, one for each shot, coming from the library. I saw them through the window."

"All right," he replied. "Let's check in there."

"Chuck," she whispered.

"Yes?" he asked.

"The library," she panted.

"What about it?" he asked.

"The library's Cornell's office," she whispered. "He has his desk in there."

He stared into her eyes in the candlelight. "Does he have guns in there? Does he keep a gun in his desk?"

Violet glanced toward the door to the library. "I don't think so. I never saw him with a gun in my life. He thinks guns are for criminals and working men. He thinks he's too good for all that."

Chuck sneered. "I'll bet he does. Well, I have my side arms here. We aren't totally unprotected. Come on."

They fumbled their way to the library door and slid it open as silently as they could. The interior of the room spread before them into a bottomless black chasm. Even with their candle extended in front of them, they couldn't see a thing.

They tiptoed over the threshold and the candlelight cast a watery outline of Cornell's desk in the far corner. No one sat behind it. The rest of the room stood empty. Not a whisker stirred in the whole house.

"Maybe it was nothing," Violet whispered.

"Nothing?" Chuck whispered back. "We just heard three gun shots. Someone shot them and they shot them at someone. I'd say that's something."

"Just a moment," Violet replied. "I'll light the lamp. Then we can see better. We'll have to search the rest of the house just to make sure no one's hurt. I hope Iris and Rose are all right."

She went to the desk and stepped behind it to reach for the lamp on the shelf. She almost pitched over onto her face as her foot struck something solid behind the chair. She bent down to remove the obstruction.

Then she screamed.

"What's wrong?" Chuck asked.

"It's Cornell!" she gasped.

"What about him?" Chuck asked.

"He's lying on the floor back here." Violet bent down and took a closer look with her candle. "He's been shot in the head." She took a closer look. "And at least once in the chest, too."

"Oh, no!" Chuck rushed to her side and they inspected Cornell together. "What are we going to do?"

Violet stood up. Deep inside her, a window opened that she never knew was there, and a bright vista exposed itself to her view. "There's nothing to do. He's dead."

Cornell was gone. All these years, he'd taken charge of her life and the lives of her sisters. He'd told them what to wear, what to eat, who to talk to, and even what to think. Cornell decided who Violet Kilburn was. She never had to question who she was or what made her what she was, because Cornell always did that for her. Now he was gone.

Her parents' deaths hadn't affected her much because she was so young. She didn't even really understand when her parents died. But she always feared Cornell's death. She worried she wouldn't know who she was or what she ought to do once he no longer made those decisions for her.

Now she found out who she was and what she ought to do for the first time in her life. She found out that, with Cornell gone, she was in charge. Everything rested on her shoulders. She saw her future and the future of the ranch laid out before her like a magnificent banquet with herself as the guest of honor. She knew what to do, and she would rise to the challenge.

Another patter of footsteps resounded through the house, and the library door opened a little further. Iris and Rose put their faces into the halo of candlelight. "Violet?" Iris whispered. "Violet, is that you?"

"I'm here, Iris," she replied in a regular voice. "You don't need to whisper. There's no danger anymore."

"Are you sure?" Iris whispered.

"I'm sure." Violet set the candle down on Cornell's desk and took the glass chimney off the lamp. "You can come in."

She lighted the lamp, and the room filled with light. The next minute, Mick and Jake appeared in the doorway. "What's goin' on in here?" Mick asked.

"Cornell's been shot," Violet told him.

"By who?" he asked.

"I don't know," Violet replied.

"Well, that's a fine how do you do," he exclaimed. "What are we going to do?"

"I would appreciate it, Mick," Violet replied, "if you would go out to the bunk house and wake up Pete Kershaw. Please ask him to saddle up and ride down to Butte and bring back the sheriff. There's nothing else we can do."

"The sheriff!" Iris cried. "Shouldn't we get the doctor?"

"There's no need to," Violet replied. "Cornell's dead."

Iris screamed, but no one paid any attention.

"Are you sure?" Mick asked.

"Half of his head is gone," Violet shot back. "I'm sure he's dead. Now please go and send Pete for the sheriff. If the sheriff finds out we delayed at all in sending for him, it won't look good."

"I'm goin'." Mick disappeared.

"What are we going to do with Cornell?" Iris asked.

"We can't do anything with him until the sheriff's seen him," Violet replied. "He'll have to see exactly where the body was found and examine the scene. That's the way it is when a person is killed."

Chuck raised an eyebrow at her. Did he notice the change in her? "You sound like you know from experience."

"It only makes sense," Violet replied. "Ask Jake if you don't believe me. You can't go moving a dead body around before the sheriff gives you permission to do so. Once he's seen Cornell and examined the room and everything else, I'm sure he'll give us permission to bury him."

Iris choked back a cry. "Bury Cornell! I never thought I'd live to see the day!"

"He wasn't exactly young, you know," Violet reminded her.

Mick came back in. "Pete's going now. Well, this certainly puts a different spin on the idea of getting rid of him."

Violet straightened her shoulders. "I wouldn't joke about it, Mick, if I was you. I'm sure the sheriff will have some hard questions for all of us."

"What do you mean?" Iris asked.

"It's very simple, Iris dear." Violet searched the faces around her. "Someone in this room is a murderer."

The End

Coming up next.....

Book 2: _Iris's Mail Order Husband_

This second episode of _The Montana Brides_ Series follows middle sister, Iris Kilburn, on her journey of self-discovery to win the heart of her mail-order cowboy, big, black haired Mick McAllister. When the sisters' guardian, Cornell Pollard, winds up dead in the library, everyone is a suspect. And when Sheriff Tom Maitland shows up at Rocking Horse Ranch and starts asking questions, the three mail-order couples begin to see each other with new eyes. Could Iris's new love be a murderer?

Iris finds a depth of feminine sensitivity within herself she didn't know she had when she falls in love with Mick despite his rough edges. Meanwhile, Mick finds out Iris's secret. Not only has she been running the Kilburn family ranching operation behind Cornell's back, but she actually puts on a hat and boots and rides out to help the cowboys herd and tend the cattle. Can big tough Mick handle a wife who can rope and brand and ride as well as he can?

With just one more day left before the sisters' triple wedding, the skeletons in the Kilburn family closet come out in force. The murder mystery deepens, and fingers point in all directions. No one knows who to trust or who to believe. Can Mick and Iris's budding romance survive the pressure? Will Iris marry her mail-order cowboy?

Thank you for reading and supporting my book and I hope you enjoyed it.

Please will you do me a favor and review "Violets Mail Order Husband" so I'll know whether you liked it or not, it would be very much appreciated, thank you.

Other Books by Kate Whitsby

Iris's Mail Order Husband (Montana Brides: Book 2

Mail Order Marion (Chapman Mail Order Brides: Book 1)

Christmas Mail Order Bride

Mail Order Josephine

Mail Order Bride Romance Box Set

Western Mail Order Brides Box Set

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