Matt (The Cowboys) Page 2

  “Those other kids have mothers at home to watch after them,” the sheriff said, “and fathers to tan their backsides when they need it.”

  Ellen didn’t need the sheriff’s long-suffering look to tell her that she couldn’t work in the saloon and fulfill the roles of mother and father to two rambunctious children. Her landlady, Mrs. Ogden, tried to help, but she had her hands full taking care of her boarders and dishing up three meals a day.

  “It’s got nothing to do with chickens or chasing pigs into the street,” Tulip Owens said. “It’s got to do with them being fatherless brats of a dead saloon girl. If they was the banker’s kids, everybody’d be saying they was cute and high-spirited.”

  Ellen wasn’t especially fond of her co-worker, but she had to admit Tulip cut to the heart of the problem.

  “That may be, but they’re not the banker’s kids,” the sheriff said, “though it’s his chickens they chased and his pigs they let out.”

  “It’s all because of his wife,” Ellen said. “Mabel Jackson can’t pass Noah and Tess in the street without commenting on how it’s a shame children like that are allowed to run free all over town like wild dogs.”

  “I admit Mrs. Jackson may overstate the case now and again—”

  “It’s that preacher’s fault,” Tulip said, hands on hips, a frown on her heavily made-up face. “She didn’t act so holier-than-thou until he arrived.”

  “I wouldn’t be talking bad about the Reverend Sears if I was you,” the sheriff warned Tulip.

  “Nobody complained about Noah and Tess until he got here,” Ellen said.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  “They’re not your kids, not legally.”

  “Their mother left them to me.”

  “Where’s the will?”

  “You know April didn’t leave no will,” Tulip said. “I’m not sure she could write that good.”

  “April told everybody in town she wanted me to have her children,” Ellen said.

  “She told people,” the sheriff said, “but she didn’t get anybody to write it down. Things might have been all right if there hadn’t been any trouble—I’m saying might, mind you—but there is trouble. According to the law, those kids are orphans, and it’s the state’s responsibility to put them into good homes.”

  “There’s nobody around here going to open up their good homes to the fatherless children of a saloon dancer.”

  “Those kids didn’t do nothing to be ashamed of,” Tulip said.

  “You don’t have to do anything,” Ellen snapped. “I did everything I could to stay away from Patrick Lowell and his lecherous son, but there’s nobody in this town who believes me.”

  “I believe you,” Tulip said.

  “You don’t count,” Ellen said. “You work in a saloon.”

  “Look, Ellen, I’m not here to argue with you,” the sheriff said. “I’m just here to tell you them kids are causing trouble again. Mrs. Jackson and the preacher have made up their minds they ought to be sent to an orphanage.”

  “They can’t do that,” Ellen said.

  “The state can. You know no judge will consider a single woman who works in a saloon fit to bring up two little kids.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Get married. The state’s not anxious to take on more orphans. They’ll be happy to have them adopted by a respectable married couple.”

  Ellen’s laugh was bitter. “What respectable man is going to marry me? Everybody believes I tried to seduce my employer’s son and husband in her own bed.”

  The sheriff smiled. “Old Patrick Lowell wouldn’t be the first man to attempt to take advantage of a woman, even in his wife’s bed.”

  “Are you saying you believe me?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I believe. What’s important is what happens to those kids. As near as I can figure, you’ve got about two weeks. That’s when the judge swings by here on his circuit. Mabel is all ready to hand him a list of things the kids have done.”

  “I’ll kill Mabel Jackson!” Ellen didn’t mean it literally, though she rather fancied the idea. Noah and Tess were the two best things that had ever happened to her. She loved and wanted to care for them, and Mabel was determined to ruin it.

  Ellen had no desire to get married. She didn’t like men. She didn’t trust them.

  When she was fourteen, an enraged tenant had killed her parents. To this day she could still see the rage in his eyes, hear the menace in his voice, when she’d identified him. He’d sworn he’d make her wish she’d died. They’d hanged him, but she couldn’t get the picture of his face out of her mind.

  Ellen had gone to live with a cousin. The situation might have been bearable if her cousin’s husband hadn’t ogled Ellen and made sly suggestions. Unable to retaliate against her husband, the cousin had taken her anger out on Ellen by using her as a drudge and loudly begrudging every bit of food Ellen put in her mouth. Ellen had been relieved when she got a job as a nurse-governess in the household of Patrick and Nancy Lowell. Until Nancy caught her son, Eddie, trying to force his attentions on Ellen. To protect his son, Mr. Lowell had accused Ellen of trying to seduce Eddie. He claimed Ellen had approached him as well. Mrs. Lowell had found it easier to accept her husband’s allegation than accept the fact her son was a bully and a lecher.

  “Nobody will marry me,” she said.

  “Reverend Sears said he’d offered.”

  “Wilbur doesn’t want Noah and Tess.” He only wanted to save her soul. She’d rather work in a saloon, dodging drunks and evading wandering hands, than have to be grateful to Wilbur Sears for the rest of her life.

  Two kids came tearing into the saloon, oblivious of the men eating, drinking, and gambling. “Ellen, guess what?” Noah, the older of the two, shouted. “We—”

  He skidded to a halt when he saw the sheriff. His sister bumped into him, then took refuge behind Ellen’s skirts.

  “I think I know what,” Ellen said. “It was chickens, wasn’t it?”

  “Oh, that,” Noah said. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

  “Mrs. Jackson hasn’t. Haven’t I told you to stay away from her place?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “There’s no ‘but,’ Noah. If you don’t stop aggravating her, she’s going to have you put in an orphanage.”

  Noah’s smile grew absolutely brilliant. “She can’t never do nothing to us again.”

  “Why?” Ellen asked.

  “Orin says Mr. Haskins has come to ask you to marry him. He’s going to adopt everybody.”

  Ellen walked so fast, Noah and Tess had to run to keep up.

  “You are going to marry him, aren’t you?” Noah asked again.

  Ellen remembered Matt Haskins. No woman could forget a man that good-looking. Still, she’d never imagined such a shy man would want to marry her. He rarely came into Bandera, didn’t talk unless he had to, and didn’t hang around once he’d finished his business. Some people whispered there was something peculiar about Matt, that maybe he’d hit his head on a rock when he got bucked off a horse. He was one of that batch of orphans Isabelle and Jake Maxwell had adopted some fifteen years ago. Whatever people might think, they didn’t say anything out loud. Nobody wanted to get on the wrong side of one of the most powerful families in this part of Texas.

  “What are you going to tell him?” Noah asked.

  “I don’t want to go to a ranch,” Tess said. “Orin says you have to ride a horse if you live on a ranch.”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to say. You don’t have to ride a horse if you don’t want to.”

  She wished she had left them at the saloon with Tulip. She needed to think, and she couldn’t with them bombarding her with questions. She’d vowed never to marry even before Eddie Lowell tried to climb into her bed, but she’d assumed if she ever did marry, she’d love the man and he’d love her. The idea that a virtual stranger would ask her to marry him without a minute’s notice
would have made her laugh … or swear, depending on her mood. Only now she was being forced to consider such a marriage. That it had been thrust on her in front of Tulip, the sheriff, and the kids made her furious.

  Yet Ellen also felt fluttery and confused, a totally unfamiliar condition for her. She was a very direct woman; too direct, Tulip said. After the scandal with the Lowells, she’d faced criticism from those who believed she might be telling the truth and ostracism from those who didn’t. She’d also had to fight off men who wanted to believe she was all too ready to jump into any available bed. She’d had to be tough to protect herself. But the men liked looking at Ellen, even if she gave them the rough side of her tongue.

  “I don’t like Toby,” Noah said. “He’s mean.”

  “Who’s Toby?” Tess asked.

  “Can I have my own horse?”

  “Can I have my own room?”

  “Stop! I expect Orin got confused. I’m sure Mr. Haskins wouldn’t—”

  “No, he didn’t,” Noah insisted. “He said they talked about it for a long time. He said Matt was dead set against marrying anybody. He said Miz Maxwell said you were the best of the lot, that if Matt didn’t marry you before somebody else snapped you up he was a great fool.”

  That was too much for Ellen’s temper. She’d been certain Noah or Orin had somehow managed to mistake Matt’s intention. But to learn he’d talked it over with two boys and only decided on her because his adopted mother had told him to—well, no woman could tolerate that.

  When she rounded the corner and saw three horses in front of her landlady’s house, she knew exactly what she intended to do. “Noah, you and Tess stay here on the front porch.”

  “But I want to—”

  “If you even put your hand on that doorknob before I come out, I’ll take the skin off your backside. Understand?”

  “Yes,” Noah said as he flopped down in a white rocking chair. “But I think you’re mean.”

  “You have no idea how mean I can get,” Ellen said over her shoulder as she entered the house. “But Matt Haskins is about to find out,” she muttered.

  She met Mrs. Ogden in the hallway, clearly agog with curiosity. “Where are they?” she asked.

  “In the parlor.”

  “Thank you. And don’t listen at the keyhole.” She marched into the parlor and announced in clear, unmistakable tones, “I don’t know why you’re here, Mr. Haskins, but if it’s to ask me to marry you, you’ve made a great mistake.”

  Chapter Two

  Matt didn’t know how a person could feel relieved, disappointed, angry, and worried all at the same time, but that was how he felt. Relieved he didn’t have to get married, disappointed—he wasn’t sure about that one—angry she’d made up her mind before he’d had a chance to state his reasons for such an unusual request, and worried how to keep Orin.

  He had gotten to his feet when Ellen stormed into Mrs. Ogden’s parlor. It was a small room with flowered wallpaper, chintz-covered chairs, and crocheted doilies on every surface. The breeze coming in the open window swayed the tassels on a red lamp shade.

  “It wouldn’t be my first mistake,” he said, smiling. A man would never have any trouble knowing her mood. She wore her emotions like a ship wore its flag.

  “But you’re so handsome I’m expected to fall all over myself to accept your flattering proposal.”

  Something had got her back up good and proper. He’d have a hard time getting her to listen to him.

  “I haven’t made any proposal,” Matt said. “And all you seem in a rush to do is empty the slop bucket over me.”

  “But you’re going to make one,” Ellen said.

  “Not if you keep looking like you want to notch my ears.”

  Apparently having followed Ellen, the sheriff entered the parlor. “Sit down, Ellen,” he said without preamble. “Listen to what the man has to say. It’s in the best interests of both of you.”

  Ellen seemed to waver, but she seated herself on a small love seat. Her ramrod-straight back didn’t touch the couch; her restless hands smoothed and re-smoothed her dress.

  “I’m about to do something I’ve never done before,” Matt said. “I hope you’ll listen to me kindly in case I make a fool of myself.”

  Ellen’s gaze narrowed, like she suspected him of making fun of her. “I’m listening.”

  Matt looked from Ellen to the sheriff, who’d settled himself into an armchair.

  “I’m not very good with words,” he began.

  “Some people say they’ve never heard you utter one,” Ellen said.

  “I don’t believe in talking unless I’ve got something to say.”

  “But you’ve got something to say now.”

  He did, but how did a man ask a woman to marry him when everybody knew he didn’t want to be married? “I’m thirty years old. I own a ranch, a thousand cows,’ and a couple hundred head of horses.”

  “Is the ranch paid for?”

  That question irked him, but he guessed she had a right to know the answer. “You might say the bank owns the ranch, but they’ve been kind enough to let me work it while I make payments on it.”

  “Any other debts?”

  “No.”

  “What kind of help do you have?”

  “It’s just me and the boys.”

  “Tell me about the boys. I’ve seen them, but I don’t really know anything about them.”

  He decided to take that as a positive sign. Everybody else in town knew more than they wanted to know. “Toby is sixteen. He’s never had a father, and his mother’s dead. He’s a good worker and great with horses.”

  “I hear he does pretty well with young girls, too.”

  “You can’t expect a boy his age to back off when a pretty girl shows an interest in him.”

  “Would you have backed off?”

  “What I would have done has nothing to do with Toby,” Matt said. “He’s high-spirited and resents the way adults treat him. He’s not happy about my getting married.” He might as well get everything out up front.

  “What about the other boy?”

  “Orin is eleven and completely different. He hasn’t gotten over the shock of his parents’ death or the way the town turned its back on him when his money ran out. He’ll welcome you to the ranch, but it’ll be a while before he’s comfortable around you.”

  “What about you? Will you welcome me to the ranch?”

  Matt knew what she meant. He also knew he couldn’t answer that question the way she wanted. “Of course. I think your children will like living on the ranch.”

  “They’re not my children. They’re—”

  “They’re orphans. We’re all orphans. It seems natural we should stick together.”

  “Mabel Jackson says Noah’s a menace.”

  “He’s a high-spirited boy who needs an outlet for his energy. If I give him a horse to ride and care for, he’ll have something more to think about than letting chickens out. If he doesn’t, no harm’s done as long as he gets them back before the coyotes eat them.”

  “You really wouldn’t mind having two more kids around?”

  “I can use a couple of extra hands.”

  “They’re children,” Ellen snapped, “not cowhands.”

  “Even children do chores. It makes them feel useful and keeps them out of mischief.”

  “What about me? Will cooking, cleaning, and washing make me feel useful and keep me out of mischief?”

  He couldn’t help but smile at the anger that flared in her eyes. “I started cooking, cleaning, and washing when I was nine. I think we can work something out.”

  Her skeptical expression said she thought he might just be looking for a housekeeper.

  “Toby and Orin do their share.”

  “It doesn’t sound like you need a wife.”

  He didn’t. He didn’t even want one. “Look, Miss Donovan, there’s no point in tiptoeing around the catamount. I need a wife if I’m going to keep Orin. You need a husband if you
’re going to keep your kids.”

  “Noah and Tess. They have names.”

  “I’ll remember that, but there’s no point in pretending things we don’t feel.”

  “Do you know what people say about me?”

  “I don’t listen to gossip.”

  “A lot of people believe I’m a strumpet. Some think I’m a lot worse.”

  “People say a lot of things they don’t mean. They just like something to gossip about.”

  “You believe me?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because the Lowells say I’m guilty.”

  “They would, wouldn’t they?”

  Ellen looked at him like he had just grown an extra head. “You’re either the most generous man in Texas or the biggest fool.”

  “I imagine I fall somewhere in between. Now, about this marriage…”

  “I haven’t said I’m going to marry you.”

  “You haven’t said you aren’t.”

  “You haven’t asked me.”

  He was a fool. Just because she knew why he’d come to town didn’t mean she didn’t want him to act like this was something more than a business arrangement.

  “Miss Donovan, would you do me the kindness of becoming my wife?”

  She glared at him. “Why should I?”

  She knew why. She knew he knew she knew why. Isabelle would say she was trying to salvage her pride. Well, he’d let her. He had no pride to preserve. “We need you, the boys and me. A woman has a civilizing effect on men. I’m sure you’d be able to turn us into respectable human beings in no time.”

  He thought he saw her lips twitch.

  “I never heard such nonsense.”

  “Isabelle says a man without a woman to make something of him isn’t worth the bullet it’d take to shoot him.” He didn’t think Isabelle meant it, but she’d said it often enough.

  “I’m not interested in turning you into something worth more than a couple of bullets.”

  “Stop being hard to get along with,” the sheriff said. “You got no choice. You marry Matt or you lose your kids.”

  Matt wished the sheriff had kept his mouth shut. Nobody liked being backed into a corner, especially a woman when it came to marrying.