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He knew what she was eluding to but chose to ignore her. He wasn’t ignorant enough not to know the rumors around town regarding a so-called fear he had of intimacy. Fact was, Wade conceded some truth in it. He didn’t much fancy all that hugging and kissing Prescott seemed to relish.
“Not every woman thinks a kiss is a marriage proposal.” She eyed him with a hint of mockery.
“I’ll see you when I’m next in town.” Slipping his hat low over his brow, he tilted the corner at her and made his way out of the room.
The smoky reek of kerosene lamps from the dance hall below drifted up to the second floor corridor as he walked toward the staircase, but soon would be saturated with the overly perfumed ladies of the saloon. Marion included.
Back home the ranch only ever smelled of fresh manure, but with the arrival of Kathleen, he was reminded of the dance hall. Not that he was comparing her to the saloon ladies. Lord, he had never seen two more different forms of females.
Kathleen, he thought. Ever since they were children, she had it all. Grace, beauty and brains. She was the only woman he came close to truly loving. Kind and gentle she bore no resemblance to their mother. And she loved Wade dearly.
She was expected at the homestead for her monthly visit by the time he arrived home. For
the first time, he was eager to get back to the ranch.
Nodding farewell to Vern Murdy, the saloon owner, who was also up early and polishing some glasses behind the counter, Wade headed out into the courtyard and turned toward the livery.
The town of Lantern was nestled in a wooded valley at the southern foot of Mount Louis. He and his men had headed out early two days before on a roundup of the eastern range and had stopped in Lantern on their way back after having passed through the Durand Pass. Winter was coming and he and his wranglers had begun rounding up the yearling steers and heifers to their fall gathering pastures.
Wade could see someone had already been in the stalls and had the horses fed and groomed. Without even having been told, he knew old Chuck Rhodes was the person. He walked through to the darkened barn toward his stall and saw a person bent over in his horse's stable. There was no one else around. Sty, his horse, snickered sensing his owner's presence. Chuck Rhodes straightened immediately.
Wade frowned as he opened the gate of the horse’s stall. The old man was scrawny, permanently bent from the waist over and had a tooth missing in every other slot. He had little trust in the creepy old guy, but since he had no reason not to, he allowed him to remain on staff.
It was obvious the old man was mentally disturbed and had an odd behavior. Though Wade hadn’t caught him in the act, many of his ranch hands had reported catching Chuck smelling the backside of animals. In itself, it was a fairly harmless act and since the old man proved to be a hard-working and loyal employee, Wade kept him on.
“Mornin’ Chuck,” Wade said. He approached his horse and ran his hand over the soft coat of the horse’s flanks, letting him know of his presence. Sty was a nine-year old quarter horse with a thick, lush chestnut coat covering his entire body. Wade had bred and reared him since birth. The horse’s mother, Lily, had been Wade’s faithful horse for years before she became too old and retired to the field.
Chuck grumbled something and slithered out of the stall. In actual fact, Wade couldn’t remember ever hearing the man say anything coherent. Either he couldn’t speak a word of English or he had a speech impediment, he wasn’t entirely sure.
Wade turned and led Sty out of his stall and the pair of them were two silent figures as he began the process of applying the horse’s equipment. Shortly afterward his ranch hands came in and quickly got their mounts ready. Wade took note of their late arrival but knew their stop at the saloon had a lot to do with it. In particular, the ladies of the saloon. Some of his men were foolish to believe themselves in love. Wade excluded.
Contrary to Marion’s parting words, he wasn’t altogether against the idea of marriage. However, he had never met a female whose qualifications lured him even close to reconsider otherwise. He had spurned many false declarations of love from women wanting to secure a place in society as Wade Haddock’s wife. However, he knew they were only seeking a materialist gain but ignorant to the reality of life married to a rancher. Any wife of his would have to be as passionate about the land as he.
But Wade fully knew there wasn’t a woman alive who could withstand the harsh lifestyle of his land. The isolated wilderness and the formidable mountains that surrounded his vast property could browbeat the best of men. And crush a woman. It had broken his mother and would have destroyed his sister if she had not left.
Securing his Winchester to Sty’s saddle, Wade admitted the truth was he simply did not care at the lack of his marital status. True, he enjoyed the pleasure and release of what the member of the opposite sex could provide, but not foolish enough to want anything more.
When Marion arrived three years before, that part of his male needs came to an end. She easily seemed to accept what he was only willing to offer. Though she hinted at wanting more, Wade knew it was in jest. Marion was satisfied with their arrangement that allowed her to engage in other relationships. And make a living from it.
He led his horse outside into the bright early morning sunrise that now covered the earth and pulled the wide brim on his hat low to shield his eyes from the sun. For forty-four years he had been a rancher and knew nothing else, but he loved every bit of it. He would remain on his land until he was old and withered and when his time came, come to rest buried next to his father in the cemetery up on the hill overlooking the homestead.
Prescott emerged from the restaurant in the southern part of town, spotted him, then headed toward the livery with a face that beamed from ear to ear. Wade sometimes found it difficult to see how the man could be his brother. He was tall like Wade, built fairly similar with a set of broad shoulders and thick all around. Their mother used to call them big-boned. Kathleen, however, did not inherit that family feature. Like their mother, she was petite and slim. In personalities however, Prescott and Kathleen were more alike. As children they got along splendidly and were each other’s playmates. Wade, being the oldest had responsibilities around the ranch and had no time for play. After the death of his father it became a permanent part of his life.
“Good morning big brother,” Prescott greeted him.
“You’re late.” Wade adjusted the strap of Sty’s halter, ignoring the happiness booming from his brother’s voice.
“Am I?” Prescott feigned ignorance, pulling out a pocket watch from his chest pocket.
Wade only glanced at it momentarily. “New?”
“As a matter-of-fact, it is,” Prescott said. “A gift from Elizabeth.”
He thought the woman ignorant for spending money on something as foolish as a watch and particularly on Prescott Haddock. Everyone in the vicinity knew of the Haddock’s wealth. They certainly did not need to receive gifts from a woman whose hard-earned cash came from running the town’s less than lucrative restaurant. Wade thought about lecturing Prescott, however, from the expression on his brother’s face, he knew any words would fall on deaf ears.
“Well, hurry up then. I’d like to get back to greet Kathleen. It’s not much of a very welcome home if no one is there to greet her.”
“Ah, sweet Kathleen. How could I have forgotten?” Prescott eyed the watch once again. “If it hadn’t been for my beloved little sister and her meddling ways, Elizabeth would not be in my life.”
