“You boys know I started this ranch before your pa was born. Your grandma bless her soul, and I always planned to leave it to your pa someday. Neither one of us could imagine the tragedy that would strike this family. Losing your folks when the river flooded was the hardest day of our lives and to lose your grandma to the fever just a year later nearly did me in. Now, I need to make plans before my time comes.”
Clay jumped to his feet. “Don’t talk like that, Grandpa. Doc said you had pneumonia and would recover. Did he tell you something different today?”
Grandpa motioned for Clay to sit back down.
“Yeah,” Wade interjected. “Did he say you were dying? What about the ranch? One of us needs it so we can continue what you started. I’m the oldest. Tell me, I’m going to inherit the ranch and take over.”
Grandpa shook his head listening to his greedy grandson insist he inherit the ranch. He shook his head again and took another sip of water.
“I changed my will today. Here is what will happen when I pass over. First, neither of you can inherit anything unless you’re married to a respectable girl that will help you continue on with this ranch.”
“Humph,” Wade mumbled. “Married, where are we supposed to find respectable women?”
“That’s your problem,” Grandpa Hutchison continued. “Remember I said respectable. No soiled doves and don’t try to marry an aging widow just to have a wife. I want great-grandchildren to inherit this ranch from you one day. I know neither of you seems to have the inclination to marry, so I will make this easy. The first to marry receives a seventy-five percent share and controlling interest in the ranch. The other will receive a twenty-five percent share and work as ranch foreman. The choice is yours. Marry and inherit or don’t marry and work for your brother.”
Another coughing spasm hit grandpa, and he waved the two men from the room. Clay held back tears at the thought of losing his grandpa and Wade grumbled about how he was going to find a wife first because he was not going to work for anyone especially not his younger brother. The ranch should be his, he is the oldest. Fury raged through his mind as he thought of ways to get a wife before Clay.
Clay watched his brother stomp from the room and then heard the door to the office slam. “Grandpa, you can’t be serious. Where are we supposed to find wives? The women in town are either too young, too old, or not what you would consider respectable.”
A slow smile spread across Grandpa’s face. “You both are smart young men. You will find a way.”
“Grandpa, this is not a good idea. Wade won’t play fair. We both know we have to look elsewhere for a lady and I can’t imagine what Wade will do. His temper keeps any lady he meets from considering him. The sheriff arrested him twice for punching the ladies at Murf’s Saloon. If you force us to marry to inherit the ranch, I worry he may do something drastic.”
Grandpa waved him off again. “I will make sure the lady he finds is respectable, and she will be under my protection.”
“But, Grandpa, you sound as if you don’t plan to be here much longer. I certainly can’t keep Wade under control.”
“Then make sure you marry first,” Grandpa insisted pulling the clean white sheet further up his chest. “You’re a smart young man. Use your head. Now, go, please. Doc said I need to rest.”
Clay nodded and turned to look back at his grandfather’s face. Something about the old man’s eyes gave him away. “You’re not as sick as you’re letting us believe, are you? You just want us married and settled.”
Grandpa’s smile broadened, and he answered, “My health is my concern. Now go and find a wife. I’m tired.” He rolled over on his side turning his back to Clay ending the conversation.
Clay shrugged and left the room closing the door quietly. Where in the world was he going to find a wife?
Chapter Two
Clay sat on the front porch pondering what to do when Wade pushed through the door and nearly tripped in his rush. He had an envelope in one hand and a sheet of newspaper in the other.
Clay stood and reached for the paper. “What are you reading?”
Wade pulled it back so quickly all Clay could do was hang on to a small strip of the paper. “It’s none of your business,” Wade growled. “I think that old man has lost his mind.” He hopped off the porch and headed for the barn.
Cora opened the door and told Clay it was time for lunch. He was busy studying the small strip of newspaper and didn’t hear her. She cleared her throat and asked what he was reading so intently.
“Wade was holding a newspaper, and I reached for it. All I got was this bit, and I can’t make heads or tails out of what it means.” He held out the paper strip with the words “trimonial Times” still visible.
Cora reached for it and laughed. “I saw this in the last paper on your grandpa’s desk. It’s part of the Matrimonial Times. I think your brother is sending for a mail-order bride.”
“A mail-order bride. Whoever she is has no idea what she’s getting if she marries Wade. I suppose he’ll marry first. I can’t think of anyone near here, and I’m not riding to Cheyenne to ask strange women to marry me. I’ll be arrested. I hate losing the ranch to Wade.” Clay mumbled to himself but loud enough for Cora to hear.
“Then find a way to marry first.”
Clay turned to ask her how he was supposed to do that when an
