Grace asked Elizabeth if she was all right and Elizabeth nodded. “I learned a long time ago that I had to be all right even when things went badly. I can understand that men occasionally get drunk, but the scent of perfume on his clothes was stronger than the whiskey on his breath. That I can’t understand or condone, but what can I do? We’re married.”
Grace looked at Cora and Cora closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. Neither had an answer to Elizabeth’s question.
Wade saddled his horse and rode out to the south pasture before Clay had a chance to say anything to him. Clay was busy breaking a new horse in the corral and watched as Wade galloped off without a glance in Clay’s direction. Clay mumbled to himself, “This situation is getting worse. I can’t imagine how angry grandpa will be at supper.”
Clay looked up and saw Grace walking toward the corral. Her smile brightened his day, and he waved. She waved back and strode directly to where he waited.
“What are you doing?” Grace inquired. “The horses are beautiful.”
Clay nodded, “Just getting them used to me. Last month a neighbor died after falling from his barn roof while doing repairs. One of the adjoining ranches bought the ranch and cattle but didn’t want the horses. I bought the three mares and that black stallion in the other corral.”
Clay whistled, and the three mares trotted over to him. He pulled some sugar from his shirt pocket and gave it to the mares.
“Now, I understand why they come when you whistle. You bribe them,” Grace laughed.
“Not always,” Clay insisted. “They come to the whistle because they are well trained.”
“I suppose that explains why your shirt pockets are sticky when I washed them.”
“You wash my shirts?” Clay stammered.
“Of course. I wash your things, Elizabeth washes Wade’s, and we help Cora with grandpa’s and the rest of the wash. You men dirty a lot of clothes, and it’s too much work for Cora. I’m not sure how she managed before we arrived to help.”
Clay nodded and then his face turned white and then red, “You wash all my clothes?”
Grace bit back a smile. “Yes. Before my mother passed, she made sure I knew how to cook, wash, and clean house even though we had help. When father and I moved into the city, we eventually sent the washing out, but I did wash his things for about a year. I still remember my lessons from years ago.”
Thinking about Grace handling all his clothes gave Clay pause, and he stared across the corral.
The beautiful chestnut with four white stocking stepped away from Clay and closer to Grace. She lifted her hand slowly and gently ran it along the horse’s head. “She’s beautiful,” Grace said. “What’s her name.”
Clay turned back and watched Grace with the mare. “I don’t name them until I’m sure I’ll keep them. If I sell them, I let the owner name them. Do you want to ride?”
“Of course,” Grace answered.
Clay pondered his next question. “Do you have the proper clothes coming from Chicago and all. I know you said you can ride astride, but if you don’t have a riding skirt, we can buy one for you. If you prefer a side saddle while you get used to the open prairie, I’m afraid we don’t have one.”
Grace laughed again. “I can ride either way. I rode astride when we lived in the country, and then, unfortunately, when we were in the city, the only horses available to ride were those in the park. I had to get used to a side saddle and a sedate horse. No more galloping across the fields.”
“If you had to name her, what would choose?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure. Something beautiful and gentle like she is,” Grace answered.
“Best think hard because she’s yours,” Clay said and smiled at the surprise that registered across Grace’s face.
Grace stammered, “What? You’re giving me my own horse? She’s mine? Can I ride her now?”
“Yes, yes, and yes.”
Grace threw her arms around Clay’s neck and did her best to pull him close with the corral fence between them. Thank you.”
Clay leaned a bit closer and kissed Grace until the mare’s head forced them apart.
Grace whispered, “I think she’s jealous.”
“Of you or of me?”
Grace shrugged, and the mare stepped closer and dropped her head on Grace’s shoulder. “I think she’s jealous of you and decided I’m hers.”
Clay climbed the fence and hopped to the ground. He took Grace’s hand and led her a few feet from the fence. “You can ride her after lunch, but right now, you’re mine,” he said, and he kissed her.
Grace kissed him back, and the mare whinnied.
“Maybe we should kiss where the horse won’t see us,” Grace whispered when she pulled back from Clay.
“Maybe,” he whispered back, “but she has to get used to us.” He kissed her again, and the mare whinnied and stamped her foot.
Grace giggled. “I think you think you broke her, but she knows better. She has a strong nature.”
“That she does. Some horses bend to our will but are never totally broken. I like a horse with spirit,” Clay admitted.
Grace thought for a minute, looked at the mare, and then at Clay. “I have a name. Willow. They bend but never break or, so I’m told.”
Clay tightened his arms around Grace and held her close. “It’s a good name for her if that’s how you see her, she’s yours. After lunch, I’ll take you for a ride, and we’ll see more of the ranch.”
