Read Online Mail Order Josephine - A Historical Mail Order Bride Novel (Western Mail Order Brides) by Kate Whitsby - Free Book Online Page B

ranch, and she couldn’t afford to hire anyone to run the place. So what did she do? She put on his trousers and chaps and boots, and she belted on his pistols, and she mounted his horse, and she rode out and punched the cattle herself. Of course, there was a big outrage in the town, and they sent the sheriff out to her place to straighten her out. But there was nothing he could do. When she explained the case to him, that she could either punch cattle like a man or she and her two young children could starve in the gutter, he let it go. When he came back to town, he explained the same thing to the outraged citizens who demanded he arrest her, and they shut their mouths right quick. Everybody settled down peacefully after that, and now everyone understands. She even comes into Johnny’s forge like any man, and negotiates for the shoeing of her horses and the repair of her tack, and no one bats an eyelash.”
    “She must have learned an awful lot about how to run the ranch,” Josephine observed.
    “Yes, she did,” Andrew confirmed. “She came over here a couple of times to consult with my father about a few things, and I know she asked a lot of questions of the other ranchers when she first started out. Johnny was particularly embarrassed to have to transact business with a woman and to explain everything to her. After all, most of the men around the area—like me, for example—started going to Johnny’s forge as boys and learned most everything we know from listening to our fathers and uncles and other men negotiating with him. She didn’t have that experience. She had to learn everything on the fly, and quickly, too. Johnny didn’t like it at all, but he got used to it. He grumbled at first, but basic charity made him bite his tongue and tell her what she wanted to know. Besides, she was too good a customer to turn away, and he accepted her for her late husband’s sake.”
    “I’d like to meet her sometime,” Josephine remarked.
    “Maybe, sometime,” Andrew agreed. “But for now, let’s head back.”
    “Do we have to go so soon?” she complained. “It’s so peaceful and beautiful here.”
    “We’ll come again tomorrow,” he promised. “We’ll carry out our secret project, and we can stay longer, if you like. I just want to get you back to Aunt Agatha before it gets too late in the day. I wouldn’t want to do anything to make her mad.” He bent down and formed a cradle with his interlocking fingers. She stepped into it, and he propelled her up into her saddle. Then he leapt up onto his own mount, and they ambled back across the ridge in the direction from whence they came.
    “I don’t think Aunt Agatha has given me a second thought since I went downstairs to breakfast this morning,” Josephine speculated. “She’s much too preoccupied with her own despondency at being stuck here for the rest of the week to consider that I might ride off into the wilderness with a strange man.”
    “I’m hardly a strange man,” Andrew countered. “We’re practically related, after all.”
    “ Almost practically related, you mean,” she pointed out. “I never actually married your brother. Don’t you remember?”
    “Of course, I remember,” he returned. “But for some reason I feel like I’ve known you a long time.”
    “I feel the same way,” she breathed.
    Andrew pulled up his horse and wheeled around to draw up by her side. “I feel like we’ve known each other since childhood. I feel like I’m talking to my sister or my cousin when I talk to you. It seems so natural to talk to you. I feel I could go on talking to you for hours and never get tired of it. I hate to think of leaving you alone at the hotel. I want to stay with you. But I suppose it’s only for one night. I’ll be with you again tomorrow, so it’s not so bad, I guess.”
    She started to smile, but she stopped herself when she saw a faint mist of moisture in his usually merry black eyes. She felt a sudden pang of regret in