A Cattleman for Cora Page 3

  “It’s a shame that you’re not used to the sun, but on the other hand, your skin is so fair, perhaps your mother really was doing you a favor,” Wynonna said. “I think you’ll want a larger hat.”

  “Tenny already suggested that I pick up some sturdier clothes,” Cora replied. “I’ll add a hat to my list.”

  “A bonnet, for sure, and then a straw one with a large brim.” Wynonna picked up the charming little hat Cora had been wearing. “This wouldn’t do anyone a speck of good.”

  “It’s definitely more for show than anything.” Cora pressed a hand to her forehead. “I think most of my things are just for show. I’ve certainly been unprepared for life out here.”

  Wynonna sat down on the chair next to the bed. “Why do I get the feeling that we’re not just talking about your clothing?”

  “Because you’re very observant.” Cora sighed. “I know my parents meant well—they doted on me, and they wanted me to have the very best they could provide. They thought that meant protecting me from everything, and not just danger, but from any sort of experience that might be unpleasant. When I told them I wanted to go to nursing school, my mother nearly fainted. She couldn’t believe that I’d want to subject myself to disease and illness and every other sort of bad thing in the world.”

  “But they did support you eventually,” Wynonna said.

  “After my father died and it was just my mother and grandmother left to raise me, Mother allowed me to do more. Not a lot more, but some. I don’t know if she realized she’d been limiting me or if Father’s death made her less passionate about things, but she did argue with me less. Even at that, it took me a while to gather up my courage enough to apply. And then . . .”

  “And we weren’t allowed to attend school after all,” Wynonna finished with her, chuckling.

  “Exactly. I thought about going home, but I knew that if I did, I’d never get up the courage to leave again, so that’s why I came here with you. I’d never been so terrified, but I had to take the chance on something more than the sheltered life I’d been living.”

  Wynonna rinsed out the rag, squeezed out the excess water, and placed it on Cora’s forehead. “And now you live on a ranch surrounded by rough and uncultured cowboys and hundreds of stinky cows.”

  “A thousand, actually, and they’re cattle,” Cora replied.

  “My goodness. You certainly learned a lot today,” Wynonna said approvingly. “And what did you learn about Tenny?”

  “Nothing about his likes or dislikes, really—or about his family. I do know that he grew up very humbly and that he puts a great deal of care into his work here on the ranch. Even though most people would consider his job to be demeaning or not important, he speaks of it with pride, and I respect that a lot.”

  “And . . . what else?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Wynonna smiled. “Cora, what else?”

  “Oh.” Cora felt herself blushing, and she couldn’t blame that on too much sun. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

  “You’re just now noticing?” Wynonna shook her head. “You’re quite helpless, aren’t you?”

  “Well, it’s just . . . all the men are dirty and sweaty most of the time, and it’s hard to look past that and see beyond the grime. Although, now that I’ve been out with the cattle and I’ve gotten an idea of the work that goes into them, I think I can be more understanding of the dirt and sweat.”

  “Good. And I noticed just now that Tenny had cleaned up very nicely. In fact, I think that was a new shirt he was wearing.”

  “He smelled like pine soap.”

  Wynonna smiled again. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, and then leave you to rest. Stay cool, drink water, and don’t move around for a few hours, all right?”

  “All right.” Cora didn’t even want to move. Staying perfectly still was just fine by her.

  “And let’s change that bandage on your hand while we’re at it.” Wynonna unwrapped the towel and found something more suitable to put in its place.

  Cora drifted off and sensed Wynonna bringing the water, but she didn’t open her eyes or speak to her. Soon, her dreams were filled with bright sunbeams, lowing cows, and a tall cowboy with crinkly blue eyes and who smelled like pine trees.

  Chapter Four

  “And then, Miss Margaret, Cora just sort of flopped over in my arms, like a rag doll or something.” Tenny shook his head, remembering. For a moment, he’d thought she was unconscious, and that had put the fear in him for sure. He was beyond relieved to find that she was merely woozy, but then he was worried about her because she was woozy.

  Margaret looked concerned too. She paused in her knitting and peered up at him. “You say Wynonna’s with her now?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then we know she’s in good hands. Thank you for coming to tell me, Tenny. I’ll pay her a visit later.”

  Tenny nodded. “Um, ma’am? I wondered . . .”

  “Did you have a question for me?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I did.”

  “About courting, maybe?”

  He was glad she was the one to bring it up. These things never got easier to talk about. “That’s right.”

  “Well, have a seat and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Tenny grinned as he sat down. Miss Margaret certainly made a charming picture, sitting there in her rocking chair with her knitting needles clacking, her hands resting on her nicely rounded belly. It was a picture of joyful motherhood, a part of nature that promised a future and prosperity and growth. He saw it every day out in the fields and with the expecting cows—not that he would ever compare Miss Margaret to a cow. It was just the course of nature, the way it worked for every plant and every animal, and it was beautiful.

  “What’s troubling you, Tenny?”

  He pulled in a breath. “Well, Miss Margaret, while I was out driving with Miss Cora this morning, I had a dozen or so questions pop into my mind, but now that I’m sitting here with you, I seem to have forgotten every one of them.”

  “What sorts of things—do you remember what they were about?”

  “I remember wonderin’ how a woman could get under my skin in such a short amount of time, but I don’t suppose you have an answer for that.”

  She smiled. “No, I’m afraid not, but if it helps, that question has been asked by almost every man since the dawn of time. You’re not alone.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” He rubbed his jawline. “I was also tryin’ to figure out why the Good Lord made men and women so different. Seems we’d get along better if we were just a touch more alike.”

  “Hmm. Maybe.” Margaret seemed to consider that as she turned her knitting around. “Sometimes when Wade and I can’t figure out how to see eye to eye, I think, ‘This would be so much easier if he just saw it like I do.’ But you know what? I need his perspective, and he needs mine. We balance each other out, and we keep each other from getting too big in the head.”

  “Ya know, it’s true—you’ve been mighty good for Wade,” Tenny said with a chuckle. “Not that he ever was too big-headed, but you’ve mellowed him out some. Made a real man out of him.”

  “He’s been good for me too, in dozens of ways. He restored my faith, for one. But let’s not start discussing my wonderful husband or we’ll be here all the rest of the day. Let’s get back to your dilemma.”

  “Oh, I’m not thinkin’ it’s so much of a dilemma. It’s more . . . not knowing what I should do next. How do I figure out if I really love Miss Cora or if I just like the idea of having a woman in my life? And how do I find out what she’s thinkin’ and feelin’?”

  “You certainly don’t ask easy questions, do you?”

  “No, ma’am. If they were easy, I’d take ’em to Old Sully.”

  Margaret laughed heartily. “I knew I liked you, Tenny. As far as an answer to your questions . . . well, spend time with her. See if you find yourself missing her when you’re apart. See if you feel more at peace when s
he’s around. And then, when the moment is right, you grab her and kiss her for all your worth. If you still don’t know after all that, well, you’re just out of luck.”

  Tenny grinned. “Grab her and kiss her, huh?”

  “Yes. For all your worth.”

  “And . . . what happens next? Do we just have a knowin’ about the situation, or . . .?”

  “You’ll likely already know quite a bit by that point, and the kiss is just the icing on the cake, so to speak. But let me tell you this, Tenny—once a girl has really been kissed, she finds it pretty hard to forget who it was who did the kissing.”

  He grinned. “You know, Miss Margaret, when you first came here, I was worried that you were gonna be one of those elegant ladies who’d never want anythin’ to do with us men, but you’ve turned out to be a real friend, and I appreciate that.”

  “Thank you, Tenny. I think of you all like my brothers.” Her eyes misted over, and she grabbed her handkerchief. “Oh, dear. There I go again. I’ve been crying off and on all day today.”

  “Nothin’ wrong with that. Just means you’re gonna be a tender-hearted mama.” Tenny stood up and gave her a nod. “Thanks again, Miss Margaret. Talkin’ to you has taken a burden off my chest.”

  “I’m glad I was able to help. Please have someone send word if there’s anything Cora needs before I make it over there, all right?”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  As Tenny walked back to the stables to grab Buckeye, he thought about Miss Margaret and smiled. Wade had found himself the exact right woman to bring into this kind of life. Now Tenny would just hope that Cora could adapt—she might not be a good fit after all, but he sure wanted to give it a try.

  ***

  Cora napped until suppertime. When she heard Fiona ring for the evening meal, she sat up slowly, evaluating how she felt. She was a little bit woozy, but that was to be expected. The headache seemed mostly gone, and she felt well enough to stand up and get ready to head over to the dining room.

  “Cora!” Fiona exclaimed when she came in by way of the kitchen door. “Why are you up? We were just making a tray to bring you.”

  “That’s very nice of you, but I’m fine,” Cora replied. “Just not terribly energetic.”

  “Sit down and eat in here—I’m sure you don’t want all the noise of the dining room.” Fiona pulled out a chair at the small table in the corner, and Cora took a seat. “Tenny’s out there looking more forlorn than I’ve ever seen him.”

  “He is? I mean, I figured he’d be out there, but I didn’t know how forlorn he’d be looking.” For some reason, Tenny’s sadness made Cora happy. He missed her—he was worried about her. That meant a lot.

  Fiona set Cora’s tray in front of her. “Your outing this morning must have gone well. Aside from the headache, of course.”

  “Yes, I think it went well.” Cora picked up her fork, but didn’t touch her food yet. “I think . . . I think I could probably develop some feelings for Tenny. Maybe.”

  Fiona chuckled. “You don’t sound convinced . . . or maybe you don’t sound as doubtful as you should. I’m trying to decide which it is.”

  Helen came into the kitchen, set down a stack of trays, and gathered up a few new plates to take out. “Hi, Cora! Feeling better?”

  “Mostly, yes.”

  “She was just telling me about her morning with Tenny,” Fiona said, wagging her eyebrows.

  “Well, don’t say anything good until after dinner. We’ll all want to hear this.” Helen left again, and Fiona laughed.

  “You looked so embarrassed just now. Don’t you want to tell us what happened?”

  “Well, of course, but I’m not even exactly sure . . .”

  “Eat your dinner. Getting some food inside you is the most important thing. We’ll pry your story out of you later.”

  Cora felt guilty watching the other girls do the dishes after the meal, but she knew she didn’t have the strength just yet. Plus, the fact that Rowena nearly tied her to the chair to make her keep still was a very compelling factor.

  They were drying the dishes when Tenny stuck his head into the kitchen. “Beggin’ pardon, but I heard Miss Cora was in here, and I wanted the chance to say goodnight before I head off to the bunkhouse.”

  “Of course,” Helen said. “We’ll send her right out.”

  Tenny disappeared from the doorway, and four sets of brightly inquisitive eyes turned Cora’s direction. “Someone’s waiting for you outside,” Fiona said. “Are you going to see what he wants?”

  “Oh, we know what he wants,” Helen said. “And her name starts with a C . . .”

  Cora stood up, her face flaming. “Oh, gracious. You’re all being so . . . so silly about this.” She stepped out into the night air, hoping that the breeze would cool her face. Honestly, those girls . . .

  Tenny was waiting for her, his hat in one hand and a small flower in the other. “I saw this growin’ out in one of the meadows just before dinner, and I thought you might like it.” He held it out, and she took it.

  “Thank you,” she replied.

  “I see that you got some doctorin’ for your hand.”

  “Nursing, rather. Wynonna took care of it for me.”

  “That’s good.”

  Goodness—why was it so hard to talk to Tenny now when they’d just spent the whole morning together? It was as though they’d reverted back to being strangers, and by now they should know each other well beyond that point.

  “I wanted to check and see if you were up to that trip to town in the mornin’, or if you thought you’d better wait,” Tenny went on.

  “Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten.” Cora thought for a moment. “I think I’ll be all right, but could I tell you for sure tomorrow? I’d like to see how I feel after a night’s sleep.”

  “Of course. That’s the best way to go about it. I’ll see you in the morning, then.” He gave a nod, put his hat on, and turned to walk away, but she couldn’t let their conversation end like that—not when it had been so unsatisfactory.

  “Tenny, wait.”

  He turned back. “Yes, Miss Cora?”

  “Thank you for today. I’m sorry I spoiled it by getting sick.”

  “You didn’t spoil anythin’. In fact, I think it was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

  “Really?”

  He grinned. “Really. You’ve gotta look at it from my way of seein’ things—most of the time when I’m out there, I’m surrounded by a bunch of men who are all as dirty and smelly as me. Havin’ you out there all pretty and pert—well, that was a treat. I hope you enjoyed it too.”

  “I enjoyed learning about the ranch and how you do things out there, but I have to admit, some of the smells were a little strong.”

  “That’s why I think those heavy boots would come in real handy. The stuff that makes those smells has a way of sticking to the feet.”

  “I’ll definitely be getting some boots. Oh, and Tenny?”

  “Yes, Miss Cora?”

  She closed her eyes. She wanted to say it, but she didn’t want to say it . . . “Would you . . . would you teach me how to ride a horse?” She pinched her eyes tighter while she waited for his response.

  When it came, it was accompanied by a low chuckle. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “No. I mean, yes. I need to get over this fear.”

  “If you can’t even look at me while you’re askin’, I’m not sure you’re ready.”

  She opened one eye, and then the other. “Maybe I’m not ready right this second, but I should start trying, shouldn’t I? Maybe I should just . . . touch a horse or something.” As she said the words, a shudder ran through her whole body, and Tenny laughed again.

  “Maybe lookin’ at a horse would be a better place to start,” he said. “And yes, I’ll help you out with that.”

  “Thank you, Tenny. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Night, Miss Cora.”

  As Tenny walked away this time, Cora f
elt better about letting him go since they’d actually had a conversation. But why, why had she brought up horses? She couldn’t believe she’d done that.

  Chapter Five

  When Tenny returned to the bunkhouse, he found Sully sitting in his usual place by the stove, whittling something new. This wasn’t a carved animal, though—this was some kind of floral design on a plank of wood instead of a stick.

  “Got a new project, Sully?” Tenny asked as he pulled up a stool.

  “Was thinkin’ about that new baby on the way. They’re gonna need a cradle, and I thought that was somethin’ nice I could do fer ’em.” Sully looked up from under one bushy eyebrow. “Miss Cora feelin’ better tonight?”

  “She is. She says she’ll let me know in the mornin’ if she’s up to the trip to town.”

  “She shouldn’t be overdoin’, not when she’s used to a gentler life and all.”

  “I agree.” Tenny bent down, picked up one of Sully’s wood shavings from the floor, and twirled it between his fingers. “I can’t help but wonder what kind of fool I am for thinkin’ she’d be happy on a ranch.”

  “Whaddya mean? Is she talkin’ about leavin’?”

  “Not for a long while, but still . . . She’s a town girl, not a country girl. She’s all roses and lace and ribbons, not dirt and grass and cornflowers. I can’t help but think we’d both be better off if I found a girl born and raised out here—someone used to this sort of thing.”

  Sully frowned. “You were havin’ yourself some trouble finding a wife before, if’n I recall. That’s why we sent for these mail-order brides in the first place. What makes you think you could just find a girl now?”

  “Well, that’s just it. I don’t know. Plus . . . plus I want to marry Cora. But am I doin’ her a disservice?” Tenny threw the shaving into the stove. “I had a talk with Miss Margaret today. She seems to think me and Cora suit each other just fine.”

  “Then I don’t understand why yer still ditherin’ about it. Miss Margaret hasn’t led us wrong yet.”

  “That’s true. I tell you what, Sully—I’ve never second-guessed myself like this in my whole life. What is it about women that makes everything so danged confusing?”