Chapter 3
Balfour Ranch, near Walnut Springs, Montana Territory
Sweat trickled down Enoch’s neck as he led the defiant young mare to the larger corral so she could run with the other horses in training. Her ears flicked back in muted rebellion, even after he’d removed the saddle. She’d been the hardest of the three he rode today.
He patted the horse’s damp shoulder. “Good girl. That’s enough for today.” Then he opened the gate and released her to trot as far away from him as she could manage in the small pasture.
As he watched her go, he shook his head. She’d come around in time, but it would take patience and consistency. Two things in short supply these days.
He released a heavy sigh as he hung the rope on a post. Already three months had passed, yet still, every thought reminded him of Will.
The sun hung low over the western peaks, painting the sky in shades of fire that echoed the turmoil in his chest. He should head inside, clean up for the evening meal. Mrs. Wang liked them all to be punctual.
Exhaustion pressed heavy as he turned to the house.
The big log structure had been home for most of his life, ever since they fled England when he was six years old to escape the schemes of his father’s cousin, Reginald.
That villain had proved he’d do anything to take over Father’s title as the Duke of Clarence.
Reginald had first tried to discredit them by attacking their mother’s Scottish heritage and Catholic loyalties, claiming they made her—and by extension, the boys—unfit heirs in the eyes of the Church of England.
When that didn’t work, he’d had Will kidnapped.
Held him for a day before Father’s men tracked the lad down and brought him home.
That ordeal had been the breaking point, driving Father to send their mother, him, and his brothers to Montana with the Wangs, far from Reginald’s reach.
They’d had this home built as a temporary refuge, but after Mother’s death two years later, Father’s grief had kept him from sending for their return to England.
By the time he finally raised the notion, Enoch and all four of his brothers loved this wild country far more than they’d ever appreciated the country of their birth.
Now, warm lamplight already spilled from the windows of the kitchen and dining room. He would miss this place. Would he ever get to return?
The weight pressed harder on his chest. What did he do so wrong that God would only strip away the people he loved?
First his mother. Then Charlotte, the woman he’d been betrothed to marry.
And her parents—parents who had felt more like his than the Duke of Clarence, who lived so far away.
Then Mr. Wang, who’d been more like an uncle than a manservant to them all these years in the Montana.
And now William. On top of that, he would have to step into William’s role and leave these mountains that had become part of his soul.
He trudged up the porch steps with the last of his energy and wiped his boots on the braided rug before opening the door to step into the great room.
Aromas of onion, sage, and roasting meat wafted from the kitchen—rabbit stew, most like. Mrs. Wang had a knack for making even the humblest fare fit for a king.
As Enoch turned into the dining room, Robert looked up from setting a steaming pan of cornbread on the table. Whether managing the ranch’s records or helping Mrs. Wang with one of the many tasks around the ranch, he applied the same precision to every task.
His brother motioned toward the dining room. “James and Thomas aren’t back from town yet, but Mrs. Wang doesn’t want the food to get cold.”
Enoch nodded. No surprise there.
Their housekeeper would keep the rest warm for when his other brothers returned, ensuring each of them had a hot meal no matter how late they rode in. She always went out of her way to make them feel cared for.
“I’ll wash up.” He headed to the small closet where Mr. Wang had once installed a pump.
The man had been talented enough to build anything, with a mind that understood the laws of physics as well as Galileo.
These last four years had been hard without him, and not just because of his skill with constructing things.
As he scrubbed the dirt and sweat from his hands and face, the cool water brought a welcome respite from the lingering heat and the turmoil in his mind. He stared at his reflection in the small mirror above the basin. The man looking back at him appeared older, wearier than he should. Haggard even.
He dried his face and hands on the towel, then straightened his shoulders and walked back to the dining room.
Robert had finished setting the table, and Mrs. Wang carried in a large tureen of steaming stew.
The savory scent made his stomach rumble, the apple and cheese he’d eaten at midday long gone.
“Smells delicious.” He managed a smile for the woman who had been a constant, comforting presence in their lives for as long as he could remember.
She smiled back, the creases in her weathered face nearly covering her almond-shaped eyes. “You sit and eat now, Lord Enoch. You work too hard.”
She’d always insisted on using their titles, even as lads.
She was the only one left in the area who even knew their connection to the peerage, and tucked away as they were, an hour and a half from the closest small town of Walnut Springs, he’d long since made peace with allowing her this freedom.
In truth, anything Mrs. Wang wanted, he’d march through fire to get her.
He took his seat beside Robert, with Mrs. Wang at the end of the table nearest the kitchen. William’s seat at the head remained empty.
And it would stay that way. No one could fill his brother’s place.
Enoch might be considered the eldest now, but he would take none of the liberties the position granted. Only the duties he couldn’t avoid.
Robert cleared his throat. “Shall we pray?” At Enoch’s nod, he bowed his head. “Lord, we thank you for this bounty and for the hands that prepared it. We ask your blessings on our family, both here and far away. May you guide and protect us all. Amen.”
As Enoch echoed his own, “Amen,” the front door banged open, announcing the arrival of James and Thomas. His younger brothers’ boisterous voices filled the house as they stomped into the dining room.
James, with his golden-brown hair tousled from the ride and his green eyes sparkling with his usual charm, entered with a ready smile that made him look younger than his twenty-four years. He tossed his hat on the tree by the door. “Sorry we’re late. Got caught up talking to Timmons.”
Thomas, his dark hair in need of a trim and his eyes holding a mischievous look that belied his keen observation, held out a small envelope to Enoch. “This came for you. Looks like it’s from England.”
Enoch took the telegram, his stomach twisted. Father must have received his letter about William.
Mrs. Wang tsked at the other two. “You go wash up now. The meal is getting cold.”
As both men tromped to the wash closet, Enoch gripped the paper, but didn’t unfold it. Should he wait until after the meal, when he could read the note alone?
But Robert and Mrs. Wang watched him, eagerness in their gazes.
With an inward sigh, Enoch slid his thumb beneath the flap and unfolded the paper. He scanned the short message.
DEAREST ENOCH STOP RECEIVED LETTER DEEPEST GRIEF STOP MARRIAGE MORE IMPORTANT THAN PARLIAMENT STOP EITHER STAY AND WAIT FOR WILLIAMS brIDE OR LADY CECILIA AWAITS IN ENGLAND FULL STOP
He stared at the words, unable to will them into something more palatable. A wife. The notion settled like a stone in his gut. His father would require it already.
Enoch had spent the past months steeling himself for the journey to England, for the life of a duke-in-training, but now marriage too? He’d not been able to bring himself to consider that as a real possibility.
Not since Charlotte. The old pain twisted in his chest. He’d determined not to risk loving again. The pain wasn’t worth any pleasure that might come of an attachment.
Mrs. Wang and Robert exchanged a glance, no doubt noting the tension in his posture. He tried to school his features, but frustration simmered too close to the surface.
James and Thomas returned, their earlier joviality subdued for once. Maybe they sensed the shift in the room. They took their seats, glancing between Enoch and the telegram.
“Well?” James raised an eyebrow. “What news from the motherland?” His voice came a touch too casual. They’d probably read the telegram when they picked it up.
He didn’t have the energy to call them out though.
He tossed the paper on the table, as if physical distance could lessen its impact.
“Father wants me to stay here until the bride William sent for arrives.” The words fell like stones, heavy and immovable.
They’d received a wire from her accepting Will’s offer and saying she’d send a note when she arrived in St. Louis.
“Unfortunately, I’ve already sent her a telegram not to come.
” Once she received his note in St. Louey, she’d head back to where she came from.
James eyed him. “You could always send another, inviting her once more. Or place the advertisement again.”
Thomas reached for the telegram, skimming the contents. “I think it’s a capital suggestion. About time you settled down.”
Robert nodded. “A wife could be good for you. And you know Father won’t rest until you secure an heir.”
Enoch’s jaw locked. Good for him? What did Robert know of it? He’d never lost the woman he loved, never felt the ache of a shattered heart. Robert lived in the safe, orderly world of his ledgers and figures.
Thomas jumped in with his usual easy charm. “Come now, it might not be so bad. Think of it as an adventure. A mystery bride, sent to tame the wild Montana bachelor.”
Enoch shot him a dark look. “This isn’t one of your dime novels. This is my life.” They didn’t understand the gravity of what was being asked of him. The very idea of marriage tied his insides in knots.
He pushed back from the table, the screech of wood loud. “Forgive me, Mrs. Wang. I fear I’ve lost my appetite.”
Her dark eyes held sympathy and concern, but she merely nodded. “I’ll keep it warm for you.”
He inclined his head in gratitude, then strode toward the front door, snatching his hat as he passed the rack. The walls closed in, suffocating him. He needed air. Space to think.
Outside, the mountain air had already cooled. He gulped it in, anything to clear his head. The sun hung low over the snowcapped peaks around them, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink. This sight usually brought him peace, but now it only stirred a restless agitation in his blood.
He needed to move, to do something physical to quiet the clamor in his mind.
He headed toward the barn, his boots scuffing on the hard-packed earth. He’d check the stock in the east pasture, make sure they were settled for the night. It would give him time to pull himself back together.
As he walked, he couldn’t help sending a question upward. Haven’t I already dealt with enough death and disappointment? Nothing he’d planned was coming to pass. Why would this marriage be different?
But no booming voice answered. Not even a niggle in his mind.
His gelding, Leif, had already worked hard that day, so he saddled Will’s mare. She needed exercise.
As he swung up into the seat and turned his mount toward the upper pasture, he could almost believe he was riding away from the expectations, the suffocating weight of duty.
But even as the ranch house receded behind him, the telegram burned in his mind, an inescapable reminder of the choice that had been made for him.
Another choice. One he would have to find a way to bear, no matter the cost to his mind and heart.