Love Behind the Rancher’s Disguise (Preview)

Chapter One

Texas City, Texas, 1855

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ma’am,” Mira Thornton said, removing her apron and placing it on a rusty wall-mounted rack that hung near the clinic entrance. She had to hurry home. Father would be waiting for her in his study.

“Oh, my dear girl,” Connie Harrison answered with her hand on her hip jutting out, her other hand straightening the white coif pinned to the back of her graying head. “How many times must I tell you to call me Connie?”

“I couldn’t,” Mira said with a shake of her head. “I could never address you so casually.” Connie was in her late forties and the best midwife in Texas City earning the respect of many people. Despite her father’s disapproval, Mira loved working and learning under the infamous woman’s tutelage.

“Suit yourself,” Connie said with a chuckle standing near a side table beneath a window. Overlooking the streets of the city, she peered through the window dipping her hands into a small water-bowl, and washing the lye soap from her hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Mira affirmed with a smile, as she closed the door behind her.

Fitting her white gloves comfortably between her fingers, she strolled from the clinic and down the street waving at the business owners familiar with her working at the clinic. Though it wasn’t the best area in the city it was still safe enough to walk. Her father had skipped breakfast that morning, which enabled her to avoid his usual offer of the carriage.

She breathed in the mixed scent of the damp streets and horses with baked goods and pies, wafting in the air from the diners and bakery shops. Carriages and horses clip-clopped down the streets. A small group of women wearing hats with ribbons, and fashionable dresses concealing the bustles beneath a multitude of skirts, had stepped out of a carriage in search of the mercantile stores. Several men in fancy black suits and hats accompanied them.

Their fancy dress reminded Mira of the impending conversation with her father. She shuddered to think what he wanted to talk about. He made it a habit of having a talk with her whenever he expected her to attend formal gatherings, and lectured her on best behavior and etiquette. But Mira didn’t think anything was lacking in her propriety, and neither did her mother or two younger sisters.

She slowed her steps as she neared her home, an elegant Victorian-styled house. She stopped outside the varnished wooden door with the horrendous ornate brass bell pull, and glanced left at the double-paned sash windows of her father’s study. Her sisters, Dorothy and Priscilla, were likely embroidering in the parlor discussing what their father might want with her.

Taking a deep breath and lifting her chin, Mira turned the door handle and entered the house. Her boots clipped against the polished parquet floor. As she walked through the foyer, the door to her father’s study swung open. He stood tall in the doorframe dressed in his signature starched white vest and high collar, black trousers, and waistcoat where his pocket watch dangled from his top pocket. The years hadn’t been kind to him, revealing lines across his forehead and others unsuccessfully hidden by his handlebar-graying mustache.

“Come inside, Mira, I’ve been waiting for you,” said George Thornton, the tips of his mustache lifting as he pursed his mouth.

“Yes, Father,” Mira said following him into the study.

The room had a wide cupboard, a rectangular walnut desk—which she thought was too big for the room—and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase covering the right side of the wall. He sat at the desk located near the window and she guessed he must’ve seen her arriving home.

She sat opposite him in a leather chair. “I thought I told you to take the carriage,” he began in a low, unforgiving tone.

“I… I thought it was a lovely day to walk,” Mira said, her heart thumping. “Besides it takes too long to get the carriage ready. The clinic is only a few blocks—”

“It doesn’t matter. I will not have my daughter’s reputation sullied.”

“Yes, Father. I’ll remember for next time.” Mira’s chest rose and she exhaled through her nose. How could walking possibly tarnish my reputation?

“Next time?” he said raising a thick brow and staring at her with disapproval.

Mira’s eyes darted upward meeting his steely gaze. Why does he sound serious? Her hands became damp as dread slithered up her back.

“I know you love working at the clinic, but there will be no next time,” he said in a softer tone. “You’ll no longer be working at the clinic—”

“What? No!” Mira cried in horror. No, this can’t be happening. I must’ve heard wrong. Father would never… would he?

He went on as though she hadn’t said a word. “As of now you must ready yourself and pack your belongings. The servants have placed suitcases in your quarters and will assist you.”

“What are you talking about Father?” Mira said, slack-jawed. “I don’t understand.”

The stern expression on his face indicated the solemnity of his decision. “You are aware that most of our trading ships were caught in the white squall and sunk on the way from the East?” He lowered his chin.

Mira nodded. The tragedy had occurred only a few weeks ago. Some shipping companies had even closed down due to loss of cargo. Of the many ships, five of them belonged to Father. It was no surprise his temper had worsened since then.

Her father swallowed. “Those five sunken ships have ruined our family business,” he said softly, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Our only two ships cannot recover our losses. I fear we are bankrupt. Everything is lost.”

“Oh, no!” Mira let out a horrified gasp, her eyes going wide. The end of her work at Mrs. Harrison’s was happy news compared to this. What about us? My sisters? “Father, what will we do?”

“I’m sure you remember Mr. Price?” Her father sat back in his chair, clasping his hands on the surface of the desk. “The owner of the bank on Fourth Street.”

The hint of an unsaid suggestion in his voice floated in the air like a bad smell. Mira shrank away from it instinctively as she answered, “Yes. They lived here for a while and moved to a ranch.”

Of course, she remembered Ethan and his family. They’d gone to the same school, shared similar friends, and played together. She was around eight or nine years old when they moved away.

Her father sighed. “I met with Mr. Price when he came here, and he sympathizes with our situation. He has agreed to assist us on condition for your hand in marriage to his son, which has my approval.”

Mira blanched. “What? Father, you don’t mean Ethan Price?”

“Oh good, you remember him,” Father said in his baritone nonchalant tone. For someone who had just lost his livelihood, he looked rather pleased. “I believe Mr. Price’s ranch in Riverstone is doing quite well. And Mr. Price has recently acquired ownership of another bank in Chicago. I think his son is a suitable match for you. You are of age now and won’t be nineteen forever. With this marriage, our financial troubles will be over.”

Mira blinked back tears pricking her eyes as her heart sank. The room swirled and became extremely small. Pain tugged at her heart at the idea of leaving her family. She turned her gaze away from father’s face. How could he have married me off? Especially to someone like Ethan Price? Every memory she had of him was of an arrogant, provoking child. The two of them were hardly better than enemies by the time he’d moved away.

But what else can I do? Mira knew all too well the stark reality of their situation. If she didn’t marry securely, her family would quickly be ruined, and she refused to let that happen.

“I understand, Father,” she whispered, curling her fingers into balls. She remembered Pastor Clemmet’s recent sermon about obedience and respecting parents. Closing her eyes she said, “It’s my duty and if it will help our family, I’ll marry Ethan.”

She’d always dreamed of marrying for love. For a time, her father had even encouraged it, in his own way. But now…?

Now that dream was over. In the span of a moment, it withered like a rose in autumn, overwhelmed by the inescapable need for money. Of all people, why Ethan? Even at ten years old, he was one of the bossiest and most controlling people she’d ever met. It was something she doubted even age or maturity could have ironed out of him.

“You may leave now,” her father said, shuffling papers on his desk. “I have important matters to attend to and you need to pack your belongings. Take only what you need. We can send the rest of your things later. I imagine the stagecoach driver will be making his way here.”

“Yes, Father,” Mira answered and rose from her chair. Trundling out of her father’s study and heading toward her room on the second floor, she swiped bitter tears from her eyes with her fingers. The desires of her heart could simply not be answered. She had a duty to obey her father and honor the agreement between him and Meshach Price… a duty she’d carry out, for the love of God, if not happiness with her father’s plans. Mr. Price, at least, would be some comfort. He had always been kind, funny, and compassionate to her… the complete opposite of his son.

Ethan Price. A soft snort of frustration escaped her. Was it even possible for such a child to improve in adulthood? Could he possibly have become like his father? She recalled playing hide-and-seek with him and a group of schoolchildren. Ethan wanted to claim all the good spots for himself, so he told the other children where they could or couldn’t hide.

“You can’t do that,” Mira had insisted when he’d ordered her best friend, Sophia Barnes, the silversmith’s daughter, to hide in the stable. “That’s no place for a girl.”

“It stinks. I don’t want to go there,” he’d responded with a scowl. “Someone must go there.”

“Why must it be Sophia? She is a girl!” Mira had been insistent. “You must go there. You’re a boy and boys are messy anyway. Mother says a stable is no place for a girl to play. We’ll go to the barn together and hide behind the haystack.”

“No, I’m hiding there with Henry,” Ethan had declared forcefully. He’d nearly come to blows with her before she grabbed Sophia’s hand.

“Fine! We don’t want to play this silly game anyway,” and she hauled Sophia behind her toward the lake.

Mira pushed the memory aside with a shake of her head. That didn’t matter now. All she could do was hope and pray that everything would work out. Perhaps the years had improved his poor attitude and disrespectful nature.

Yet even if he was still controlling, the arrangement would have to work out somehow. If only out of obedience to God and love of her family, she’d give her best efforts as his wife. Of that much, she was certain.

By the time Mira arrived at her room, her chest was heavy as though a ship had anchored inside her heart. The servants were tidying her room, and packing away her dresses, skirts, shoes, and jewelry.

Gazing over the suitcases already packed, she chose three green medium-sized suitcases.

“I won’t take much with me,” she explained to the maids and thanked them for their help. Sitting on the edge of her bed she added, “Please… I need some time alone.”

There was a knock at the door and a sweet, familiar voice called out to her. Sophia Barnes… thank goodness. She tripped into the room with a grim look on her face. Her natural brown curls fell about her face as she sat beside Mira. “I heard about you going off to the West.”

Mira cocked a brow and said with a bitter smile, “News has spread already?”

Sophia shook her head. “No, Papa spoke to your mother and sisters earlier today before they visited the modiste. They went to buy new clothes.”

“What? New clothes?”

Sophia had Mira’s full attention. What was her mother doing, buying new clothes while they were on the edge of bankruptcy? We have more than enough! So much so that many garments had to be packed away seasonally to make room for others.

“But that’s not why I came. I heard about your betrothal. I’m coming with you to the West,” Sophia declared excitedly.

Mira stared at her in amazement and remained silent.

“Surprised, aren’t you?” Sophia turned to Mira and grasped both her hands. “I know it sounds positively crazy, but I want to go with you. In fact, I insist. You cannot leave without me.”

“But… why?” Mira stared at her in astonishment. “This is our home. I don’t want to leave, but I have no choice… you do. You can marry a great man of stature here. Doesn’t Mr. Todd Heston like you? Hasn’t he shown interest?”

Sophia let out a tired sigh. “Yes, he does, but we’ll remain friends only. I don’t mean to sound fussy, but his family’s furniture business isn’t going well. They may just sell and leave Texas City for California. My father gave me a choice by the end of the season I should marry him or choose someone. I’d have to leave anyway.”

Mira glanced at the ceiling for strength. Has she lost her mind? Sophia was pretty and charming. She could find a suitable match in Texas City. She did not need to rely on Todd Heston for marriage. There were many eligible bachelors, however, they did not meet her father’s approval.

“You might not want to leave after all,” Mira warned her. “Todd Heston is a sight better than what’s waiting out West. I’m betrothed to Ethan Price. Don’t you remember him?”

“Yes, of course I do.” Sophia turned beet-red. “He wasn’t bad, Mira. In fact… well, truth be told, I liked him a lot back then,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “Besides, we were children. Surely things are different now. Maybe he’s different. And I’m sure there’ll be plenty of adventures for us out West—enough to keep our minds off some grumpy betrothed.” She glanced aside bashfully. “Maybe… maybe I’ll find love there, too.”

Mira shook her head. “I’d hardly say Ethan’s my love, but… you’re truly coming with me? Your father gave his permission?”

“Yes, silly!” Sophia’s laugh was like a merry lark. “He agreed that I should go, and the experience would be good for me. I’m sure Ethan will still have many friends like he did when he was a child. He was always popular. If it doesn’t turn out, well, then I’ll have no choice but to return home and marry Todd.”

Leaning forward, Mira pulled her into a tight embrace. “If that’s your decision and your father has given his blessing… then I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am that you’re coming with me. It would be awful to be alone, knowing nobody except for Ethan.”

“Of course.” Sophia hugged her back tightly. “How could I let you go off on your own? Even if he’s as terrible-tempered as he was before, at least you’ll have someone to talk to.” She pulled away and looked at Mira with bright eyes. “Well, I best take my leave. I’m supposed to purchase tools for my father and thought I’d come to share the news with you. It seems we only have a few days left here, doesn’t it?”

Mira pressed her lips together. “Yes, it does, though I’m not delighted about it.” Even with Sophia’s unexpected presence, the prospect of leaving everything behind was still not a happy one. I’m giving up my entire life to marry someone I barely know.

“Everything will work out,” Sophia said with a positive edge in her voice. Giving Mira’s shoulder a gentle squeeze she added, “I’m sure it will, you’ll see. Why don’t we wake up early tomorrow and spend as much time visiting everyone we know and say goodbye? We can go to our favorite places until the stagecoach arrives.” Though Sophia was full of cheer, Mira perceived a hint of apprehension. Was Sophia as keen as she let on? Maybe she was nervous and didn’t want to admit it —like herself.

“Yes, I quite like your idea.” A spark of happiness flickered in Mira’s heart. What a blessing to have such an amazing friend. It was a welcome relief knowing Sophia would be accompanying her. “Let’s make the most of the few days we have left in Texas City.”

Chapter Two

Riverstone, Texas

“This isn’t happening. It can’t happen.” Ethan Jeremiah Price crumpled up the letter from his father with a vengeance. He dropped the letter to the ground and stamped his thick-soled boot over it.

“What’s wrong?” Nathaniel McCarthy said from behind the kitchen table filling two glasses with cider.

“My father,” Ethan replied tightly. “He’s taken the great liberty of arranging a betrothal. Between me and the daughter of some friend of his in Texas City.” He slammed his balled right hand into his left palm.

“So refuse. Can’t you?” Nathaniel asked lightly.

Ethan lifted furious eyes to him. “I can’t. Not unless I want him to disinherit me.”

Nathaniel’s eyebrows lifted. “Disinheritance?” he repeated slowly. “But… Mr. Price would never do that.” He slid the glass of cider across the table to Ethan. “I mean, I know your father almost as well as you do. What reason could he possibly have to disinherit you if the marriage doesn’t happen? Is it really that important?”

“I didn’t think so! I thought he was joking when he told me about it before he left for Chicago,” Ethan said, his arms waving in the air. “We argued before he left. I told him no and that was the end of it! And, now I get this?”

Nathaniel shrugged. “I … don’t know what to say. I suppose it’s every man’s dream to pass on his legacy.”

Ethan gave a humorless bark of laughter. “Legacy? And yet I don’t have a right to choose my wife?” He scowled. “I was born into his gentleman’s code. I’ve dutifully lived it my entire life. Honesty, respect, courage, integrity—haven’t I been all of those and more? What else could he possibly want? I’ve been nothing but loyal to him. Why wouldn’t he let me have any say in my own marriage?”

“Hold your horns, Ethan,” Nathaniel responded in a calm tone. “That’s not the point. I don’t think Mr. Price sees it that way. You’re twenty-one. Your dad’s probably thinking you’re never gonna get married and thinks he needs to push you a bit.”

Ethan shot him a dark look. “I don’t know what’s going through his mind, but he’s already hired a stagecoach. And according to that letter, you’re supposed to be driving it to Texas City and back.” He grabbed the glass of cider and swallowed it down, barely tasting it, before slamming the glass onto the table. “Did you know about that?”

“Well, truth be told, he did tell me about driving a stagecoach for him last week,” Nathaniel admitted, and as Ethan glared at him, he lifted his hands placatingly. “But I had no idea it was for your bride!”

Ethan glowered at the table. “Of course. I suppose he knew you’d tell me all about it if he mentioned what the stagecoach was for.”

Nathaniel nodded in agreement, taking a swig of his cider. “I suppose that’s why he had me buy extra supplies. It’s a six… no, seven-day journey.” Then he went pale.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Ethan demanded.

“The stagecoach—it arrived yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” Ethan cried.

“It didn’t seem important! After all, I do errands for your father all the time. He doesn’t share his business with me. How was I supposed to know?”

Ethan exhaled slowly, running his hands through his hair. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.” He began pacing the kitchen. I had no reason to blame him. He was doing exactly what he was supposed to do. “So, when do we leave?”

“We?” Nathaniel’s brows lifted and his eyes widened.

“Yes, I’m coming with you.” Ethan stopped pacing and stared at Nathaniel thoughtfully. “He might not have given me a say in my bride, but he isn’t coming with her. If I go with you—say, undercover—I could find out for myself what she’s really like. It only makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “No! If your father finds out—”

“He won’t. By the time he returns from Chicago, we’ll be gone.”

Nathaniel had been his friend for too long to believe that arguing would change his mind. “I have the stable and the horses covered,” he sighed, rubbing his hand over the side of his head. “What about the rest of the ranch?”

“Don’t get twisted about all that,” Ethan said with a broad smile spreading across his face. “Jackson isn’t the second in charge for nothing, right? Besides, he can manage until my father arrives.” He turned resolutely and headed out the kitchen door.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Nathaniel said, catching up with him. “And how exactly do you plan to travel “undercover?” Are you going to wear a disguise or something?”

“No need.” Ethan glanced smugly over his shoulder. “The girl is Mira Thorton—I knew her when we were children in Texas city, but it’s been more than a decade since we moved out here to ranch. She has no idea what I look like now. I don’t need to change a thing except my name.”

“Yeah, you got a point. What name are you planning on using?”

“Call me Jeremiah from now on.” Ethan grinned at the confusion on Nathaniel’s face. “I’m sure she won’t remember my middle name. It was one of the things I used to tease her about—she never could guess it.”

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?” Nathaniel glared at his friend, cocking a brow. “And, I have a feeling I’m not going to like it. I hope you understand this responsibility has been put on me, you know. If anything goes wrong…”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Ethan insisted. He scanned the land from the crops to the groaning and braying livestock grazing in the distance, and then stopped at the mountains and hills rising into the sky.

“I want to see for myself what she’s like now,” he mumbled.

“What was she like? When you were young, I mean?”

Ethan snorted. “Hardly more than a spoiled tinker. Her parents doted on her every whim.” He glanced sideways at his friend. “Now do you understand why I need to go? There’s no way I’m going to marry a snob of the first water.”

“Alright, come along. I know I can’t change your mind.” Nathaniel tapped Ethan on his shoulder with a friendly sigh. “Maybe you’re right and it will be good. But even if you’re like a brother to me, I’m not answering to your father about it.”

“Thanks, I know how to handle him,” Ethan said with a nod. “Remember, I don’t want her to know it’s me,” he called out as Nathaniel headed toward the corral. “It’s Jeremiah now.”

Nathaniel lifted his arm in an acknowledging wave, but he was still shaking his head.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Ethan sauntered toward the barn stirring memories of his childhood. He and his friends had gotten into all sorts of mischief when they were children. Sneaking into the bakery through the back door and chomping fresh apple pie, frosted cookies, anything they could get their hands on. The baker’s wife, Mrs. Basson, would chase them away with her wooden spoon. Of course, she’d tell their fathers, and they’d all have their hides tanned so hard that they could hardly sit … but it had all been well worth it.

Chuckling, Ethan entered the barn and found the pitchfork at the back to gather hay for the animals, but he was more absentminded than usual as he worked. We used to play all those games outside… He still remembered those visits to the Thorntons’ enormous house, running around their yard. There was a carriage house they’d pretended was a barn and a small stable for two or three horses.

Sticking his pitchfork in the hay, he began loading mounds of it onto the wagon.

Once, Mira wanted to play catch, but he’d insisted they play hide-and-seek; and of course, he’d won the vote from their friends. He’d known from the grown-ups’ talk that Mira’s father had gone to a business meeting. That meant the stable would be free; great for hiding. She should’ve listened to me. The butcher’s son, Danny, wasn’t the sharpest tool in the barn and would never think to look in the stable. But, no, Mira had to throw a tantrum and refused to play the game with everyone and stormed off somewhere. If she’d been clever enough to ask, she would’ve gotten my help.

Thanks to the scene she’d made, Danny had checked the barn first, and of course, he’d found Ethan and a few other boys hiding in the hay. For the rest of the day, they’d been itchy, and swimming in the small pond at the edge of the property didn’t help either.

He paused in forking hay and let out a loud, irritable huff. Why Mira of all people? Surely there was someone else who’d be a better match as a wife. What did she know about ranching? She had servants and cooks and didn’t need to worry about anything. Did she know how to handle hens when collecting eggs or milking cows? Ethan shook his head. I’ll just have to convince Pa to change his mind. There was no way a rich city girl like her could make it on a ranch out here for long.

And besides… he didn’t want to get involved with anyone again. He poked at the haystack, his lips pursed, and he gave a deep sigh.

Emily Parker. Six months had gone by already, but it didn’t make the hurt any less, even though she was gone. He’d courted her for months, only to find out in the end that she was betrothed to another, wealthier, man.

Ethan still remembered the cut of it, as though it had happened yesterday. It was the day before she was to leave Riverstone. She’d met him at the foothills of the mountain. It was a beautiful spot, right by a creek where water flowed between rocks hidden by dense foliage. But he avoided it like the plague now. He couldn’t escape the memories there.

He’d been the one to arrange the meeting. Some of the men in town had told him that Emily had been using him as a second option for marriage. He didn’t believe them. He’d confronted Emily about the other man, and she’d played the victim. Six months ago, but he’d never forget it.

 

***

 

“Are you Emily Parker?” he asked in disbelief watching her pick her way through the dirt. She stepped down the muddy bank like it was personally offensive to the shiny silk shoes on her feet. They used to jump on the rocks and splash in the creek, attempting to catch fish with their hands. Walking hand in hand, talking in the woods after picnicking. This Emily was nothing like the laughing, windswept girl who’d been by his side.

“Of course,” Emily snickered, narrowing her eyes at him. “Who else would I be?”

But her dress gave her away. She wore fine silk instead of calico, and her hair was styled up with expensive clips and decorative feathers. It was as though she was ready to attend a fancy ball. She’d even slathered her lovely face with false powder.

“You’ve changed.” The sight of her had always set his heart racing… but now, there was nothing left but growing disgust. This wasn’t the Emily Parker he’d come to love. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing has happened to me,” she retorted. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Why did you want to meet me here, anyway? Is it that are you upset I’m leaving?”

He stared at her with wide eyes. “Upset? Is that what you think?” Did I mean nothing to her? Tears pricked his eyes at her casual attitude. “So, it’s true?”

She lifted her chin proudly. “Is what true? That I’m leaving Riverstone for good? Yes, it’s true.”

“Emily, what about us?” he cried. “We were going to get married and travel someday. Don’t you care about any of those dreams?”

She gave a contemptuous snort, as though he had insulted her with the plans they’d once spent so much time creating.

“So. It is true.” He lowered his voice, trying desperately to hide the hurt that crushed his heart. “You only showed interest to avoid the embarrassment of being turned away by another man. I was the other man, wasn’t I?”

For just a moment, she paled, gray in comparison to the fluffy clouds above them. “There isn’t a thing I need to say,” she stammered at last. “If you misunderstood my intentions, then I’m afraid you have no one but yourself to blame.”

And then she turned and left.

 

***

 

The whole thing was unbelievable, even now. Ethan hadn’t wanted to believe it at all, but her behavior alone had proved the truth of the rumors.

She had played him for a fool. And he would never allow it to happen again.

Even if it costs me my inheritance. The success of the ranch was only after years of pouring his hard work and effort into it. Yet if his father disinherited him because he refused to marry a snob, then so be it. He would bear the consequences and accept the loss. He knew women like Emily. He wouldn’t be duped twice.

And if Mira was just the same kind of conceited girl, he would simply refuse to marry her. He stabbed the pitchfork fiercely into the hay. I guess this stagecoach ride will determine both our fates, then.