Chapter Eight
As the wagon rounded the bend for the second time that day, and the view of Madison Valley spread out before them like a rolling green carpet, Hope focused on the ranch to the left this time.
“Is that yours?” Hope asked, awe creeping into her voice as they began the descent towards the valley.
Jackson nodded and, for the first time, she saw a genuine smile creep across his lips.
The ranch to the left was positioned beside a broad creek fed by a wide river that flashed silver through the grasslands.
The ranch’s sprawling cottonwoods, grazing cattle, and weathered barns gave it an air of permanence.
It was larger than Ethan’s ranch on the right, and Hope decided it was far more beautiful.
It was strange to think that several hours before she had not even given Jackson’s ranch a second look, all her dreams pinned on the man who lived on the right.
She wondered if it would prove difficult living next to Ethan, or if her marriage to Jackson would put a strain on their friendship.
Hope had never had any true friends around her, and given her brother, the concept of loyalty seemed foreign.
A marriage of convenience. Hope still wasn’t entirely sure what Jackson meant by that.
Earlier, he had said he had no intention of ever marrying, so perhaps he’d never had the desire for a close companion.
Hope wasn’t sure she’d ever had that desire either.
Her marriage to Ethan Blake was meant to be an escape, and a fresh start.
She wasn’t sure she had ever hoped for love in the arrangement, though upon meeting Ethan, she had believed it possible.
Now, with Jackson, she was certain there would be no love.
She watched his stoic profile as he looked into the distance, his deep green eyes unreadable.
He seemed so far removed from her, almost disinterested, as though he had done his duty to right Ethan’s wrongs and now he could set his mind to other matters.
Earlier, he had been trying to point out things along the way to interest her and distract her from her problems, but now he had withdrawn into his former silence.
Would they only ever be distant friends, despite being married?
Hope sighed. She didn’t care. She shouldn’t care, in fact.
She was just grateful Jackson had been generous enough to open his home to her.
The look in his green eyes when she had said she wanted to travel alone to Bozeman had scared her.
She had lived in Dodge City her whole life, and knew well the dangers that existed for women who had no one to protect them.
Apparently, those dangers were even more dire in frontier cities.
Hope smiled to herself. She had secretly enjoyed the envious looks on the faces of the women at the boardinghouse when Jackson had helped her collect her luggage. He was certainly no toad. Now that they were to be married, Hope studied him a little closer.
Jackson’s arms and hands were toned and browned from long hours working in the sun.
The fabric of his shirt stretched tightly over his shoulders, revealing the outline of muscles that told of the many heavy loads he had carried.
His features indicated he was around thirty, but there was a weathered look about him that had nothing to do with working out in the elements.
Overall, Jackson reminded Hope of a mighty stallion with impressive strength and beauty, a creature she could admire from afar, but would never dare get too close to.
Hope concluded that was what a marriage of convenience must really mean, but she was very grateful all the same.
“Is that your Ma?” Hope asked, her stomach twisting with nerves as she spotted an older woman watering some patches of flowers planted along the fence line.
Jackson nodded as he guided the horses through the main gates. The woman looked up at them, her eyes following Hope as they drew closer.
“Welcome to Hale Ranch,” he said, his first words since they had left Virginia City.
“Jackson,” his mother greeted him with a smile. Her eyes flickered to Hope. “And who is this beautiful young woman?”
Hope climbed down off the wagon and approached the older woman shyly.
“This is Hope Caldwell,” Jackson introduced her.
“Wasn’t that the name of Ethan’s bride?” she asked. Her warm green eyes were similar to Jackson’s, though lighter.
Jackson nodded. “Clara’s getting worse, Ma. Ethan couldn’t go through with the marriage. I’ll marry Hope instead.”
His mother nodded, her eyes widening in surprise.
She recovered quickly, giving Hope the impression that she had endured much in life and was not easily shaken by sudden changes.
She gave Hope a warm smile. Jackson’s Ma had light blonde hair with streaks of silver, and though she was easily in her late fifties, her beauty had not faded.
“Well then, my dear, welcome to the Hale family,” his mother said, drawing Hope into a hug. She released her and smiled again. “I’m Margaret.”
Hope returned her smile, trying to hide her surprise at how easily this Margaret had accepted their marriage.
“Come, my dear, you must be exhausted after your travels. Let’s have some coffee and food. Nothing warms the heart like a good meal. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I sure do,” Hope laughed, feeling the older woman’s arm wrap around her waist as they walked into the house.
“Do you like to cook, Hope?” Margaret asked.
“I do,” Hope said with a smile, “very much.”
“Then we’ll get along just fine,” Margaret assured her. “My son is not so easily won over, but I’m sure you’ll soften him in time.”
Hope turned around to see if Jackson had heard his mother, but he was nowhere in sight.
“He’s probably watering the horses,” Margaret explained. “He cares more about the animals than he does himself. Now have a seat.”
Hope walked to the kitchen table and sat down while looking around the kitchen. Margaret’s kitchen had a warm glow about it that whispered of many happy meals and long conversations around the table.
The table and chairs were all beautifully made, seemingly hand-carved, and the large cast iron stove in the corner shone from years of cleaning and polishing.
There was not a cobweb or dusty corner, and everything had its place.
Compared to the chaos and heat of the boardinghouse kitchen, Margaret’s spoke of calm order.
“I baked these tea cakes fresh this morning,” Margaret said, placing a plate of pastries on the table. “I believe Ethan said you were from Kansas. What is it like there?”
“Hot,” Hope replied, “and dusty. I love the beauty of Montana, though your spring is far cooler.”
“Oh, my dear,” Margaret said, her face awash with concern. “I know exactly what you mean.”
She hurried out of the kitchen and left Hope alone. Hope nibbled on a cake, and only then realized just how hungry she was. It had been hours since her last meal, which was breakfast at the boardinghouse. She was on her second cake by the time Margaret returned carrying a woolen shawl in her hands.
“Here, my dear,” she said, sweeping the blue shawl over Hope’s shoulders. “This should keep the chill out.”
“Thank you,” Hope said, stroking the soft wool. “Thank you for your kindness,” she repeated, a lump forming in her throat.
The day had presented her with a complex assortment of emotions, and she did not quite know how to process them all. From Ethan she had experienced utter rejection, whereas, for the most part, Jackson had seemed almost indifferent. With Margaret, though, she felt unrestrained acceptance.
Margaret smiled gently at her, breaking her gaze only when Jackson entered the kitchen.
“Some coffee, son?” she asked, pouring a third cup. “You’ve sure had a busy day.”
“Thank you, Ma,” he said. “It was very unexpected,” he admitted, his eyes falling on Hope.
“When will the ceremony be?” Margaret asked.
“Tomorrow,” Jackson answered, startling both of them, though Margaret recovered faster than Hope did.
Hope closed her mouth and swallowed hard.
She’d brought a wedding dress with her in preparation for her marriage to Ethan, but since there’d been a change in plans, she had expected to have a few days to get to know Jackson.
She wondered if that was why he had been so silent on the drive back.
He had been busy planning their abrupt wedding!
“I wish to protect Hope’s reputation from talk,” Jackson explained, as if it was a business arrangement.
While Hope appreciated his consideration, she would’ve liked to have been consulted a little more about her own thoughts.
“Is it to be here?” Margaret asked. “I could go out early and pick some flowers.”
“At the church in town,” Jackson said. “I’ll talk to Father Mark.”
Margaret nodded. “A dinner here, then, to celebrate. Who shall we invite?”
Hope turned from Margaret to Jackson, awaiting his answer. She certainly had no one to invite, but she wondered if he might have friends who’d like to see him married. Her heart sank to see him shaking his head. Did he care so little for his own wedding?
“Just the three of us,” Jackson replied, drinking his coffee.
“I see,” Margaret said, giving Hope a reassuring smile. “What about Ethan?”
“I’ll ask him to be a witness at the church, but I don’t think he’d want to spare the time away from Clara,” Jackson replied. “I’ll ride over and talk to him later.”
“Well, I can still decorate with flowers,” Margaret said. “What’s your favorite color, Hope?”
Hope opened her mouth to answer, but Jackson cut her off.
“It’s not necessary, Ma,” Jackson assured Margaret. “It will be quick. I plan to check all the cattle tomorrow afternoon.”
Hope turned and suppressed a glare, feeling every part of her wedding day taken away from her. If she could not choose her husband, she’d hoped to at least choose the flowers she liked.
“After your wedding?” Margaret asked with a raised eyebrow.
Hope felt that at least Margaret’s surprised reaction matched her own. Hope gave a little sigh, quietly reminding herself that this was not to be a normal wedding. Jackson was assisting her, not promising to love and cherish her all the days of their lives together.
Jackson nodded. He devoured three cakes in an instant and drained his coffee. “Would you like to see the ranch?” he asked Hope.
Hope nodded and quickly gulped down her own coffee before hurrying after him.
“You might want to put on a coat,” Jackson warned her, stopping at the door to hand her one. “The temperature drops quickly in the late afternoon.”
Hope followed him out onto the porch. The ranch glowed softly in the late spring light, with horses wandering lazily through green pastures beyond the ranch house.
She could make out a couple of men on horseback rounding up some of the cattle and sheep, their distant calls echoing through the valley.
“We bring the milking cows inside in the evenings,” Jackson explained. “Can you milk a cow?”
Hope nodded. “Our family had a dairy cow, but we ended up selling Beth.”
“Beth?” he asked.
“The cow,” Hope answered, watching Jackson with interest. He was a completely different man walking through his ranch compared to driving the wagon. He led her to a handsome chicken coop enclosed with fencing.
“Who built everything?” Hope asked.
“My Ma and Pa built the house and barn,” Jackson answered. “The chicken coop was one of my first projects. I was twelve, I think.”
Hope’s jaw dropped a little as she inspected the neat coop.
Jackson might not have been a man of many words, but seeing his work gave her insight into the kind of man he was.
Every fence line stood straight, every tool carefully put away, and even the barns and corrals had the orderly appearance of a ranch run by a man who valued hard work and precision.
Hope kept her quiet admiration to herself as Jackson led her past the weathered barn, the smokehouse, corrals, and neatly stacked woodpiles. He seemed perfectly in control and at ease, and compared to the chaos and disorder of her own life, Hope felt almost out of place.
They rounded the back of the ranch house and Hope spotted a small kitchen garden just beginning to flourish with hardy herbs and early flowers.
“My Ma’s,” Jackson explained before she asked. “She loves all things green. Do you know how to grow vegetables?”
Hope nodded, thinking of the hours she had spent on her knees tending her Ma’s vegetable and herb gardens after her death. The leafy greens had kept them from starving during the leaner times when Daniel had not been able to find work
Jackson suppressed a smile, and she wondered what he was thinking. She was about to ask when he stopped and pointed at a small cottage at the end of the ranch surrounded by colorful flowers and another, smaller, garden.
“That’s my Ma’s cottage,” Jackson explained. “In case you need anything.”
“She doesn’t stay with you in the house?” Hope asked.
Jackson shook his head, but he didn’t elaborate further. He then turned and pointed to a small shed at the back of the property with flowers planted in the front.
He turned to her and explained, “That will be yours for tonight.”
Hope stared at him, a smile forming slowly. She knew that their marriage was only to be one of convenience, but she still imagined she’d have to share a house with Jackson. To think that, for the first time in her life, she’d have a little space to call her own was not something she had expected.
“I thought sleeping under the same roof as me might affect your reputation,” Jackson explained. “Tomorrow you can move into the house with us. It’s warmer, and I fear you might struggle with the Montana winters.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Jackson. Thank you,” she finally said, realizing she hadn’t given any thought to her own reputation once she had been assured of a marriage.
“The bed is comfortable,” Jackson assured her. “And I put your luggage inside.”
“Thank you. Did you build this shed, too?”
Jackson nodded again, and she could see by his shy acknowledgement that he was not the kind of man who enjoyed being openly praised. The feeling she got from him and his mother was that the hard work simply got done, and there was no fuss over it.
“I have to go,” he said suddenly, breaking through her thoughts. “I’ll speak to Ethan, and also arrange things for the ceremony tomorrow. Ma will have dinner ready at six.”
Hope nodded. It was right back to business with him.
Jackson walked away, and Hope turned back to the shed and laughed quietly to herself.
As much as she had looked forward to the little shed being hers, she had to admit that seeing the ranch had piqued her curiosity about Jackson.
He clearly struggled to express himself, but there was a depth to him that intrigued her.
Something told Hope she would spend the rest of her life trying to understand the man she was about to marry.