Chapter 10
Mandie sat at the dining table the next morning, cradling a porcelain teacup as she breathed in the faint scent of chamomile.
The brothers dug into breakfast, forks clinking against plates of eggs and bacon, their voices a lively tangle of laughter and teasing.
Bea hummed softly in the kitchen amidst the rhythmic clatter of a wooden spoon against a pot.
Mandie shifted in her chair, the ache behind her eyes still pulsing a little—a stubborn echo of her injury. She sipped her tea, the warmth soothing her throat, and watched the brothers.
Back in Savannah, breakfast had been a hushed affair, full of starched linens, polished silver, and the murmurs of polite conversation…lacking that last bit after Nicholas passed.
Here, it was all noise and motion—James wiping grease from his chin, Thomas gesturing with a biscuit, Robert nodding along like a patient oak. She felt like a sparrow among hawks, out of place yet oddly drawn to their rugged warmth.
Enoch sat to her right, his broad shoulders a steady anchor. He caught her eye and tipped his head, voice low. “Sleep all right?”
“Well enough.” She kept her tone soft with the smooth, careful diction her mother had drilled into her. Yet further small talk fled her mind.
His proposal from yesterday hung like a shadow—she’d have to give him an answer soon. But marrying a man she didn’t know? She couldn’t fathom why she would have planned to do so in the first place. And until she knew every reason, she couldn’t make such a rash decision.
She needed to send a telegram to her parents, figure out why she’d come to this wild place. They might not even know where she was, might be sick with worry for her safety.
Mandie cleared her throat. “I was wondering if one of you might be willing to take me to town. I need to send a note to my family. They may be worried about me.”
Enoch’s brow furrowed. “It’s a long ride, and you’re still recovering. But one of us can take the message to the telegraph office for you.”
Mandie hesitated. That should suffice, at least for a start. “Thank you. I suppose that will do for now.”
Bea slipped in, setting a basket of fresh biscuits on the table. “Eat something, Mandie. You’re still too pale.”
Mandie offered a small smile, reaching for a biscuit she didn’t want. “Thank you, Bea. It smells heavenly.” She broke off a small piece, nibbling to please the housekeeper, though her stomach churned—probably from the lingering dizziness.
A sharp thud of hooves sounded outside, and all four men froze mid-bite. The sound pounded closer until it rattled the windowpanes.
Enoch rose first, his chair scraping as he stepped to the window. “Mr. Jenkins.” Tension laced his voice.
Mandie’s pulse quickened. Wasn’t that the surname of the woman Bea had said she would go help with her birthing when the time came? A visit from her husband this early in the morning couldn’t be good.
Enoch strode into the great room, and Mandie rose and followed with the others.
He pulled open the front door just as Mr. Jenkins reached the porch.
The man’s face was pale, his eyes wide with urgency. “It’s Mary. The baby’s coming early. Her pains have started.”
Bea stepped forward, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ll get my things. James, will you saddle my horse, please?” Without waiting for an answer, she turned and hurried toward her chamber.
As his brother trotted through the door toward the barn, Enoch turned to Mr. Jenkins. “You’re in good hands with Mrs. Wang. I’m sure Mary and the baby will be fine.”
Mr. Jenkins attempted a smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. “It’s our first. I just hope…” He didn’t finish, but the twisting in his expression showed the progression of worries likely parading through his thoughts.
Mandie stepped forward. “We’ll be praying for them both. For you all.”
Mr. Jenkins glanced at her, seeming to notice her presence for the first time. He gave a short nod, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Thank you, Miss...?”
“Beaumont. Mrs. Mandie Beaumont.” She curtsied out of habit. “I’m a guest of the Balfours.”
A flicker of curiosity flashed in his eyes, but Bea returned then, pulling his attention. Enoch took the carpetbag from her hands, and Bea turned to Mandie. “I shouldn’t leave you here alone, not while you’re still recovering.”
“I’ll be fine.” Mandie gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m feeling much stronger. Please, go help Mrs. Jenkins. She needs you more than I do right now.”
Bea searched her face, then nodded. “Very well. But promise to rest and not overexert yourself.”
“I promise.” Mandie gave a solid nod. “We’ll be praying for a safe delivery.”
“I’ll make sure she rests.” Enoch spoke with a firm tone. “You focus on Mary and the babe. We’ll manage here.”
Bea’s eyes softened as she looked between them. “I know you will.”
She turned to Mr. Jenkins. “Let’s be off then.”
As she strode through the open front door, Mr. Jenkins locked gazes with Enoch. “I’ll bring her back safe and sound, soon as the baby’s here and Mary’s on the mend.”
Enoch nodded. “We’ll pray all goes well.”
They followed Mr. Jenkins outside, where James was already helping Bea up into the saddle of a sturdy brown mare. Enoch tied on the carpetbag, then the pair rode off.
As the hoofbeats faded, a charged silence settled over their group.
Enoch’s jaw worked beneath his beard, his gaze distant as if his thoughts had followed Bea and Mr. Jenkins down the trail. After a long moment, he seemed to shake himself, his focus snapping back to the present. “I suppose we’d best get to work.”
Robert nodded and turned to the house. “I’ll clean up from breakfast.”
Thomas hesitated, his gaze flickering to Mandie. “Will you be all right on your own, Mrs. Beaumont? I could stay behind, keep you company.”
Mandie offered a faint smile. “I’ll be fine, thank you. I’m sure I can find ways to occupy myself.”
Enoch eyed his remaining younger brothers. “You two go check on the broodmare, then let’s get started on the saddle horses.”
As they ambled toward the barn, Enoch turned to her and spoke in a gentler tone. “You should rest now. I can have one of the men take your message to town later. It’s been an eventful morning.”
Mandie lifted her chin. “I’m not an invalid, Mr. Balfour. A bit of excitement won’t send me to my sickbed.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “No, I don’t suppose it would.” He stepped closer, his gaze searching her face. “But you are still recovering. Please, take it easy today. For Mrs. Wang’s peace of mind, if not for mine.”
His nearness sent a flutter through her middle, but she tamped it down. “Very well. But I need to write the telegram first.”
He studied her a moment, as if weighing her resolve. Then he nodded. “There’s paper and ink in the study.”
“Thank you.” She meant it, truly. For his understanding, his care. It relieved her even as uncertainty still churned in her middle.
As she turned to head into the house, his deep voice stopped her. “Mrs. Beaumont...”
She glanced back and found him watching her with an intensity that made her breath catch.
“I know I asked a lot of you yesterday. And I understand your hesitation. But please know, you’ll be safe here, cared for, no matter what you decide.”
Emotion welled in her throat, threatening her composure. She managed a nod. “I do know that. And I’m grateful, truly.”
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing more as she slipped away, her skirts whispering against the plank floor.
In the study, she sank into the large wooden chair behind the desk. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the pen and paper. The weight of her situation pressed on her chest, making each breath an effort.
She dipped the nib in the ink well and poised it over the blank page.
What could she possibly say to her parents to explain her predicament?
That she had traveled across the country to marry a stranger, but now found herself a guest of his equally unknown brother, a man who had just proposed to her himself?
It sounded like the plot of a penny dreadful novel.
Mandie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to still the tumult of her thoughts. Somehow she had to condense it all to a short telegram message.
When she opened them again, she began to write in careful script:
DEAREST MOTHER AND FATHER STOP WRITING FROM MONTANA TERRITORY STOP HAVE SUFFERED INJURY AND MEMORY LOSS STOP BEING CARED FOR BY BALFOUR FAMILY STOP PLEASE ADVISE REASON FOR MY JOURNEY STOP YOUR LOVING DAUGHTER MANDIE FULL STOP
As she read over the message, her vision blurred. This short note barely scratched the surface of all she needed to say, all she needed to ask.
But it would have to do for now.
She replaced the pen and leaned back in the chair, her gaze drifting to the window. Outside, the ranch hummed with activity—the distant lowing of cattle, the rhythmic thud of an axe chopping wood, the call of one of the men as the brothers went about their work.
It all felt so foreign, so far removed from the life she knew.
Yet a part of her whispered that perhaps this was exactly where she was meant to be. That maybe, just maybe, there was a reason for her journey, for her arrival at this particular place and time.
Her chest tightened at the thought of Enoch’s proposal, his earnest blue eyes searching hers as he spoke of duty and honor and a future she couldn’t quite picture.
He was a good man, that much was clear. A man who would care for her and protect her.
He might be a touch grumpy, but that made his smiles even more fun to tease out.
What if she stayed here? What if she said yes?
As far-fetched as the idea seemed, she could almost imagine what happiness would look like in this place.