Now he had moved out of the bunkhouse, it was lonely living in the cabin on his own. He did crave a woman’s softness and warmth in his bed. He was no different to any other man in that respect. He’d had nothing to offer a wife before, now he did.
They stopped speaking while they ate. The steak was so tender it melted in Rowan’s mouth. Bob stared at him with a quizzical expression in his eyes. “Having second thoughts, cousin?”
“Maybe. Now I’ve got a nice cabin and a job for life at the Crossbow ranch, I wouldn’t mind marrying a nice gal if I could find one. The thing is, I’ve only ever heard bad reports about the dire consequences which can follow getting hitched to a woman you’ve never met.”
Bob finished a mouthful of food and took a sip of his coffee. “In my job as sheriff, I get around quite a lot, and I know several men who married mail-order brides and are happy. You just have to be careful and make sure they have decent, checkable references, all that type of thing.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, and Lotte was exactly what she said she was. A widow living on a small farm, whose husband had died.”
“Any children?”
“No, they were only married a short time. She was heartbroken for years, but I guess as time passes, the pain eases. Once she turned thirty, she realized if she wanted to have a family, she had to get herself a husband before it was too late, so she placed the advertisement and I saw it.”
He took a long slow sip of coffee. “We started writing to each other, then we met halfway between our two towns, discovered we had feelings for each other, and…” He shrugged. “That was it.”
“I’m happy for you, Bob. You deserve it.”
“Yeah, thanks. We both had bad childhoods, my father dragged me all over the countryside selling his snake oil cures, and yours was a drunk. If not for Aunt Gertie, life would have been intolerable.”
“I know.” Rowan shuddered. Not only had his father been a drunk, but he turned nasty when he got liquored up, which was often.
“We were lucky we came out of our childhood unscathed.”
He stared at Bob, who might have been unscathed, at least he did have a mother who cared for him. Whereas his own father’s drunken violence had driven his mother away, to he knew not where. It hurt to think his mother had escaped the clutches of a drunken brute by leaving her son behind. It had left him with deep scars, which he always tried to hide. This was one of the reasons he was so fond of his boss. “You are like a second son to me, Rowen,” George always said.
“You know, I’ve just been thinking,” Bob mused out loud.
“Of what?”
“I know a gal who might be interested in marrying a rancher like you.”
“No, you don’t.” Rowan laughed. “You aren’t palming your would-be wife’s ugly sister off on me.”
“Lotte doesn’t have a sister.”
“What then?” Rowan wondered why he was even talking like this, instead of concentrating on eating his meal and getting back to the ranch. Bob could be a cunning varmint sometimes.
“There’s a gal in Twisted Creek called Miranda Kingston. She’s a bit of a tomboy, but pretty.”
“Well, why didn’t you grab her up?”
“I might have done before I met Lotte. By the time I found out Miranda might be interested in getting a husband, it was too late.”
“And why would this gal want a husband now, if she didn’t want one before?”
“Her situation has changed.” Bob pushed his empty plate to one side. “She helped her father and brother run their ranch. It’s not a bad little spread. Anyway, the father died a while back and the brother, Jacob, took charge. That didn’t go down well as half the place is hers. She detests the woman he wants to marry, not that I really blame her, she’s a grasping, money-hungry shrew, but Jacob is besotted.”
Rowan stared at his empty plate as he drained his coffee cup.
“Miranda and his bride-to be clash something fierce. There’s only one ranch house, and no way will those two women be able to share it.”
“I’m not interested, Bob. It was great seeing you, but I really do have to go.”
“Okay, nice seeing you, too. I’ll send you an invite to my wedding.”
“Thanks. I’ll try and get there if I can.”
“What about Miranda?”
“What about her?” Bob was as tenacious as a blood hound once he caught a scent. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut about wanting a wife?
“Look, Rowan, what if I asked her to write to you and see how it goes? She’s a nice gal, not real feminine, and I blame her father for that. He brought her up the same way as Jacob after their mother died. Of course, she might not be interested in you.”
“Why wouldn’t she be interested in me?” The moment he asked the question he knew he had fallen into Bob’s trap. His cousin was sneaky, always had been when he thought about it.
“Okay, you get her to write and I’ll answer, but I’m promising nothing.”
“You might be pleasantly surprised.”
He very much doubted it. “We’ll see. It was good catching up, Bob, even if it was at a funeral. We’ll have to keep in touch and not let our busy lives get in the way.”
“Yeah, take care, Rowan. And try to get your boss to put something in writing about
