Chapter Five
Jackson glared at Ethan, hoping his stare was fierce enough to cause a physical sting. He watched Ethan attempt to soothe a sobbing Hope and felt he wanted to hurl a cow pie at his friend’s head. This was all Ethan’s fault!
This was why Jackson had tried to persuade Ethan not to go through with his idiotic plan to order a bride.
Ethan’s heart was warm and true, but he was easily distracted.
More than that, Jackson couldn’t see Ethan breaking away from his tight-knit family to care for a wife, especially not right now.
His mother and sister would always come first, and Jackson doubted any wife would be happy with such an arrangement.
Jackson blamed himself, in part. He should’ve been firmer with Ethan from the start, and not given in to Ethan’s endless speeches about the Mrs. Blake-To-Be. He hated that he had played a part in bringing Hope to such disappointment.
On the wagon ride here, he could tell Hope was nervous about meeting Ethan, and so he’d thought it best to leave her to her thoughts.
He’d quietly smiled as he saw her fall in love with the mountains and valleys, and he’d found her sudden animation at the sight almost endearing.
When the wagon had tilted slightly and she had leaned on him for support, he had realized how vulnerable she really was in a world that was unfamiliar to her and filled with strangers.
Now he stood opposite Hope, a woman stranded miles from home and utterly heartbroken, completely at a loss for how to stop her crying. She was so pale, and her hands shook every time she tried to dry her eyes. It dawned on him that he had no idea the kind of life she had left behind.
Jackson could see that Hope was more than just a beautiful and well-put-together woman.
Her hands looked strong and accustomed to work, and her speech and observations revealed she had a quiet intelligence to her.
He also had to admit that answering an advertisement for a bride must have required some kind of desire to escape the life she’d had.
He realized he was staring at her and looked over at Ethan, who was still talking endlessly about his sister’s health.
“Hope, Hope,” Ethan was saying. “Please, dry your tears and let’s talk about this.”
Jackson sighed and tugged on his friend’s sleeve. He felt the need to give Hope a little time to adjust to the news she had received.
“Hope’s had a long journey. Put the kettle on, Ethan. We’ll have some coffee and some of your mother’s molasses cake,” Jackson ordered.
Ethan nodded and left quickly, clearly grateful to have a reason to escape.
Jackson turned to Hope, and he could see she was doing her best to try and regain her composure.
Her handkerchief was sodden, and her shoulders slumped forward with such defeat that Jackson couldn’t help but feel something stir inside of him.
He dismissed it quickly, reminding himself he was not responsible for her.
Regardless of that, Jackson was one of the few people Hope knew in Montana, and that did make him feel oddly responsible for her.
“Here,” he mumbled, handing her his own handkerchief. “It’s clean.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick. “I’m sorry. I just need a moment to pull myself together.”
Jackson nodded, watching her as she dried her face. There was some strange pull inside of him to comfort her, and he made a half-step towards her before realizing what he was doing. His rough touch would only frighten her more. Hope had not come here for him, which made them simply strangers.
He stepped to the side instead, and entered the house.
“The kitchen is down the hall,” he said gruffly. “Come in when you’re ready.”
Jackson walked away quickly, confused by his own reaction to her. There was something about a woman in need that seemed to tug at his heart. The whole situation was affecting his thinking, and he reminded himself that no good would come from getting emotionally attached to this woman.
“This is your doing, Ethan,” Jackson growled at his friend as he stomped into the kitchen.
“She’ll be alright,” Ethan said. “It’s just overwhelming right now.”
Jackson stared at his friend and was reminded of a time when they were close to ten.
One Friday afternoon, Ethan had stolen two kittens from a cat at the schoolhouse.
Jackson had ordered him not to, but when Ethan had an idea in his head there was no stopping him.
Ethan had taken the two kittens home, and when they wouldn’t eat the food he put out, he had handed them over to Jackson.
“They’re sick and I don’t know what to do!” Ethan had wailed, a kitten under each arm.
“You took them away from their mama too soon,” Jackson had sighed. “Why didn’t you listen, Ethan?”
Ethan had only cried harder. “My Pa won’t take me back to the schoolhouse. He said I should drown them!”
Jackson took the kittens from Ethan and held them close to his torso to keep them warm, determined not to let that happen.
It had taken Jackson an hour to nurse the kittens, dipping his finger into warm milk and coaxing them into drinking.
The kittens, now grown mousers, still lived in his barn.
And while Jackson could see them as a reminder that he always had to rescue Ethan from many messes of his own making, he chose not to.
There were other memories that he reminded himself of.
Because of his reserved nature, Jackson had not easily made friends in school, and some of the older boys took to picking on him.
None of that had stopped Ethan from standing up for Jackson.
Ethan had made sure that Jackson always had a friend to sit with, and that meant far more to him than the few things Jackson had done for Ethan.
Through the years, their friendship had continued to grow because they never stopped helping each other. They were brothers.
“If you still marry Hope, she can stay on and help around the ranch. It would be an advantage, Ethan. She could take over Clara’s chores and make your load lighter,” Jackson reasoned, trying to find a way to help everyone in the situation.
Ethan shook his head. “It wouldn’t be kind to Hope. I don’t have the time to be a husband. And as you said-”
“Sending her back isn’t fair, either,” Jackson pointed out.
Ethan poured boiling water over the coffee grounds and drummed his fingers on the table as he waited.
“My mind is made up,” Ethan said quietly. “Hope seems like a sweet girl, but you were right. I’m not ready for marriage, especially not to a stranger.”
“Why not let her work here and marry after some time?” Jackson suggested, his irritation creeping into his voice.
He took a breath. Sometimes Ethan simply wouldn’t see sense and Jackson had to persevere in trying to be the grounding voice of reason for him.
“Think of her reputation,” Ethan countered. “What would people say? She was brought here as a bride and ended up a maid?”
Jackson heard footsteps in the hall, and then Hope cleared her throat, as if to warn them of her entry.
“Please come in, Hope, and sit down,” Ethan urged, gesturing to a chair.
Jackson shook his head at Ethan, then glanced at Hope.
He tried not to picture her as a half-dead kitten that desperately needed saving.
He was surprised to see she was no longer crying and more in control of her emotions, though she avoided their eyes.
There was a strength in her yet, and once again Jackson found himself wondering about her and what her story might be.
“Hope, we were just talking about your predicament-” Ethan began calmly.
“My predicament?” Hope repeated, an edge in her voice. “This is not my doing. You misled me, Ethan Blake. I paid a good deal of money to travel here under the promise of marriage, and now you are backing out of our agreement.”
Ethan choked slightly on his coffee as Hope’s words hit him. Jackson watched as Ethan swallowed hard, his eyes darting to Jackson for help. It wasn’t time to intervene yet, Jackson thought. No, his friend needed to at least try to find a way to resolve the mess he had created himself.
“Now, Hope, I want to assure you that I plan to help you as best I can,” Ethan stammered. “I can arrange to pay for you to stay at the boardinghouse until the next train.”
“No.” Hope shook her head. “I can’t afford to go back to Kansas. I spent everything I had to come here.”
Ethan’s eyes widened with surprise, and he nodded slowly, absorbing this next problem. “I see. I didn’t think of that.” A long pause. “But if we could get you back,” Ethan reasoned. “It might take some time, but we’d find a way.”
“I left my job in Dodge City,” Hope explained. “They won’t take me back with so many in need of work.”
“What about family, friends?” Ethan asked, clearly exasperated by the situation. “You must have a family to go back to!”
Jackson became keenly aware yet again that they knew nothing about Hope or what she had come from.
He could tell by her crushed expression and the way her hands gripped her coffee mug that her return to Kansas was not as easy as Ethan was making it out to be.
He could tell she was holding something back, and he suspected it had something to do with her family.
Perhaps Hope was a stray kitten after all.
Ethan, meanwhile, was oblivious to Hope’s emotions.
His mind was clearly on his own sister, and Hope was proving a difficulty for him that he didn’t know how to solve.
Jackson knew it wouldn’t be long before Ethan gave up entirely.
He felt Ethan look his way, but he buried his face in his coffee mug.
“Hope, I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here. There will be no marriage,” Ethan restated firmly. “That’s final.”
Jackson watched as Hope’s cheeks reddened with anger and embarrassment. Her lips parted, then pursed, then parted again as she struggled to form words. Her fingers twitched around her mug, and Jackson wondered if she would strike Ethan.
“I see,” she said quietly.
“Hope,” Jackson addressed her, diverting her attention away from Ethan. “We’ll figure something out.”
Hope’s hazel eyes rested on him, and he could tell she’d had enough of hearing their excuses.
Jackson had to admit that, as annoyed as he was with Ethan for putting her in an impossible position, he was intrigued by the way Hope handled herself.
She was not a terrified young woman, uncertain of her own mind.
Hope was a formidable force to be reckoned with, and he needed to figure out how to help her.