Brides of the West: Josie's Wedding Dress / Last Minute Bride / Her Ideal Husband

“The best riders in Wyoming come for that race,” he said to her. “You know I want to ride in it, but on what?”

“I have Smoke.”

“Smoke?” Ty’s voice trailed to a whisper. He’d caught and gentled the mustang himself. No one else had ever ridden the crazy stallion, though a few men had tried. Josie or Nate must have bought the horse when the bank auctioned his possessions. He suddenly wanted to ride fast and free, without fences or prison bars to hold him back. He wanted that freedom almost as much as he wanted Josie’s forgiveness. He could take that ride, but Josie’s pardon would have to be earned. Riding in the Maze was a good start. Smoke would be five years older, maybe slower, but he was still a smart, rangy stallion.

A hush settled over the cemetery. The breeze died and the grass went still. Not even a bird chirped as Ty held her gaze. “I’ll ride for you, Josie.”

“We’ll split the prize.”

No, they wouldn’t. He’d give her every cent, but they could argue about it later. Afraid she’d change her mind, he tilted his head toward the gate and said, “Let’s go. I need to check out Smoke.”

She headed to the buggy without a word. Ty would have handed her up, even suggested tying his gelding to the back and doing the driving, but Josie lifted the reins before he could blink.

“You know the way.” She clicked her tongue at the mule, steered around the cemetery and headed for the Bar JB. Ty wanted a final word with Nate, so he walked back to the grave. Instead of taking off his hat, he pulled it lower. “This is it, friend. I’m going to make things right for Josie.”

The burden Ty carried didn’t ease completely, but a bit of weight lifted from his shoulders. If he could win the May Day Maze, he’d be a step closer to atoning for the worst mistake of his life. Blinking, he thought back to Reverend Gaines, the chaplain who visited the prison twice a week. Ty had been among the forty men who gathered in the dining hall for services. He’d never forget the reverend’s first sermon.

Jesus calls us to walk in His shoes. Do you have the courage to love the way He did? It’s the kind of love where you put your own hopes aside for the benefit of someone else.

That evening in jail, Ty had prayed with Reverend Gaines. He’d vowed to be a better man from that day forth, and he’d decided to start by making amends to Josie. The decision had come from the deep well of regret, though today he felt something along with the remorse. He couldn’t stop seeing her face in his mind, and his gut stirred with the feelings they’d shared as a couple. She’d changed, but she had the same fire he’d always loved. His reaction troubled him, because he had nothing to offer except riding Smoke in the Maze.

With the sun beating on his back, he spoke to Nate. “She’s prettier than ever, isn’t she?”

Nate didn’t answer, of course. But Ty knew what he’d have said. He’d have teased his friend about being sweet on his little sister. Nate had heckled him mercilessly, until Ty told him to shut up because he was going to marry Josie whether Nate liked it or not.

Nate had laughed. Ty could almost hear that sound now and he answered back, “I’ll do my best for her. You have my word.”

Determined and unafraid, he left the graveyard, climbed on the gelding and headed for the Bright ranch. With the buggy in the distance, he looked at the hills that hadn’t changed and the ruts that had. He felt more like a rut than a mountain today, but the mountains called to his blood. He was itching for wind and dust, speed, and the May Day Maze. As he took in the sky and the empty meadows, he thought of the Bible verse he’d scratched on the wall of his cell. The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.

Feeling better than he had in years, he lagged behind Josie, enjoying the vast meadows and preparing himself for seeing familiar things. Mostly he recalled the porch swing where he’d proposed to her. Ty had spoken first to her father. A big man, Mr. Bright had shaken Ty’s hand and told him to take good care of Josie or else. The “or else” had been a fatherly jab, but Ty felt the burden in his bones. After supper he’d sat with her on the swing. More nervous than he’d ever been, he’d dropped to one knee and asked her to be his wife. She’d said yes and they’d kissed.

Five years in prison had done nothing to dull the memory of that moment.

Five minutes in her presence made it sharper than ever. It cut through the fog of time and the effort he’d made to forget her. If he wasn’t careful, he’d earn Josie’s forgiveness but lose his dignity by falling in love like a calf-eyed kid.

As the Bright ranch came into view, Ty lagged behind so he could take a good look at the old two-story house. The white siding stood out against the sky, and behind it grass stretched as far as he could see. He looked to the west and saw a barn the size of a cathedral. In its day, the Bar JB had been the most prosperous ranch in Rock Creek. Approaching now, Ty saw outbuildings in need of paint, missing shingles and a falling-down fence. He looked back at the house expecting to see a garden to the left of it. He couldn’t remember a spring when Mrs. Bright didn’t tend to her vegetables, but today he saw weeds.

There was no doubt about it. Josie needed help. Eager to get to work—and to see Smoke—he turned the gelding toward the barn. Rounding a curve in the path, he saw Josie going toe to toe with Obie Jones. Years ago Ty had hired the man and fired him a week later. Obie was the laziest, most conniving man Ty had ever met, and the fool had a cigarette dangling from his lips…a cigarette by a barn full of hay and livestock. Ty didn’t know the man behind Obie, but he recognized his type. Judging by the sneer on his face, he didn’t take kindly to a woman giving him orders.

Everyone in Rock Creek knew Obie’s reputation. Josie must have been desperate to hire him. Keeping a respectful distance, Ty climbed off the gelding and waited for her to finish her business.

The wait ended when Obie blew smoke in her face.

* * *

Josie hoped Ty wouldn’t interfere. She’d caught Obie smoking outside the barn…again. Lazy or not, Obie was the only man in Rock Creek who’d work for the pittance she could afford to pay. The other fellow, a drifter named Gordie, had less to offer than Obie. She’d hired them out of desperation. With the bitter winter, most of the local hands had drifted south. If Obie and Gordie quit, she’d be in trouble.

Obie looked past her to Ty and smirked. “Look what the wind blew in… .”

If Josie turned to look at Ty, she’d appear weak. She kept her eyes on Obie, but she heard the creak of Ty’s saddle as he swung off the gelding, then the scuff of his boots on the hard dirt. His shadow stretched to meet hers, and she heard the soft exhalation of his breath.

“Hello, Obie,” he said in a drawl.

Josie stole a glance at Ty’s profile. He had fire in his eyes, the kind that got him in trouble. If he chased off Obie, the trouble would be hers. She didn’t trust Ty to handle this situation, but she couldn’t deal with Ty and Obie and Gordie at the same time. Caught between two bad choices, she said nothing.

Obie aimed his stubbly chin at Gordie. “This here’s Ty Donner. He’s been locked away in that big prison in Laramie.”

Josie wanted to wipe the smirk off Obie’s face. The man had no right to gloat, though why she felt protective of Ty she didn’t want to know.

Next to her, Ty shrugged. “I’m out now.”

“I can see that,” Obie answered.

Ty indicated the man’s cigarette. “Mind if I bum a smoke?”

Obie hurled his tobacco pouch with too much force. Ty snagged it with one hand. Obie smirked. “Help yourself.”

“I’ll do that.” Ty sounded friendly, but instead of opening the pouch, he threw it as far as he could into a meadow full of tall grass. The blades waved, then went still.

Obie called Ty a foul name.

With his hands loose, Ty stepped up to the hired man, snatched the cigarette from his lips and ground it into the dirt. With his eyes narrowed, he glared at Obie. “If I ever catch you smoking by this barn again, you’re fired.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Josie didn’t know whether to cheer for Ty, be mad he’d presumed the power to fire anyone, or to smooth the waters with Obie. Lazy or not, she needed her hired hands. Ty was a hard worker, but he couldn’t do the work of three men. At the same time, she couldn’t let Obie control the situation. Like it or not, she had to trust Ty.

Obie spat on the ground. The brownish glob landed on the hem of her skirt. Gasping with disgust, she stepped back.

Ty grabbed Obie by the collar and lifted him to his toes. “A lady deserves respect. You owe Miss Bright an apology.”

Obie snorted.

Ty lifted him higher. “What does that mean?”

“Mizz Bright’s no lady.”

Josie blanked her face, but she felt the sting of Obie’s words. As the boss of the Bar JB, she’d learned to be tough. She drove hard bargains and wore trousers when she worked. She liked pretty things as much as any woman, but she’d traded lace for denim and hat pins for a Stetson. She’d also traded a wedding dress for a broken heart, and she had a ranch to run. For the sake of getting the work done, she could ignore Obie’s insults.

Ty, it seemed, had no such inclination. Using both hands, he hurled Obie against the barn. Obie hit with a thud but came back swinging. Ty ducked, then landed a roundhouse punch that sent Obie to the ground. Gordie cussed, then swung at Ty. The blow landed on Ty’s jaw and snapped back his head.

“Stop it!” Josie cried.

Obie lumbered to his feet. Fists flew and curses filled the air. Ty lost his hat and blood spilled from a cut on his jaw, but he didn’t seem to care. Josie knew better than to get in the middle of headstrong males, either bovine or human. Furious, she paced to the water trough on the side of the barn, filled a bucket and lugged it back around the corner. Gordie was on his knees and heaving, so she hurled it at Ty and Obie. As the water fanned from the bucket, Ty landed a blow to Obie’s chin. The hired hand stumbled backward, leaving Ty to take the brunt of the water.

“What the—” he stopped in midsentence and stared at her.

Josie’s cheeks flamed. Dousing Ty alone had been unfair. He’d started the fight, but he’d done it to defend her honor. Judging by the marks on his face, he was destined for a black eye, maybe two. Obie was sitting on the ground, wiping blood from his nose and glaring at her as she set down the empty bucket. He lumbered to his feet and spat a mouthful of blood. “I quit.”

“Me, too,” Gordie added.

Josie panicked. “But—”

Ty interrupted. “Get out of here. Now.”

“Mizz Bright owes us wages,” Obie complained.

A full month’s pay… She’d gone to the bank because she couldn’t meet the obligation without holding back on the bill at the mercantile. Would the juggling ever stop? She was getting ready to negotiate with Obie when Ty looked at her. “How much do you owe these fools?”

Josie knew his thinking. He intended to pay off Obie and Gordie for her. She didn’t want to owe him a favor. “This isn’t your problem.”

“How much?” he repeated.

Gordie answered for her. “We get twenty dollars a month each.”

Ty went to his horse and opened the saddlebag. He came back with a money pouch, removed a few bills and paid Gordie and Obie. Gordie took the money and stepped back. Obie snatched two sawbucks and glared at Ty. “You owe me for the smokes.”

“Sure.” Ty dug in the money pouch, removed some pennies and tossed them on the ground.

Obie looked at the money, spat again, then glared at Ty. “You’re gonna pay for this, Donner.”

“I expect so.”

“I mean it,” Obie insisted. “I’m going to get even with you.”

Obie glared at Ty, picked up the coins, then motioned for Gordie to follow him to the bunkhouse. With Ty shadowing them, the men packed their things and saddled their horses. Josie didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. She needed help, but Obie and Gordie had given her nothing but grief. As the men led their mounts out of the barn, Ty came to stand at her side. When Obie and Gordie disappeared over a hill, Ty started to chuckle.

Josie wasn’t in the mood to laugh. “What on earth is so funny?”

In spite of the bruises and wet shirt, Ty looked pleased with himself. “I always did like a good fight.”

“That was good?”

“One of the best.” His expression turned serious. “Obie disrespected you, Josie. I won’t tolerate it.”

Five years ago, he’d disrespected her when he’d gone after the Scudders. Before he’d taken off, they’d quarreled and it hadn’t been a small argument. She’d begged him to consider her feelings, but he’d dismissed her worries and ridden off. He could apologize a hundred times, but nothing could erase the humiliation of standing in church in her wedding dress, waiting…and waiting…and waiting…until Nate delivered the news.

Josie snatched up the bucket. She wasn’t sorry she’d doused Ty after all. Thanks to the scuffle, she’d lost her hired hands and she owed Ty for their wages. The debt shamed her. “I’ll pay you back when I can.”

“Forget it.”

“I can’t.”

As she stepped toward the trough, Ty tugged the bucket away from her. “I’m going to need that.” He bent and picked up his hat, slapped off the dust and passed her on the way to the trough. Josie wanted to leave, but his cuts needed attention, maybe even a stitch or two. He’d earned them defending her, so she followed him. When he dipped the bucket in the water, she removed a hankie from her pocket and indicated the bench next to the barn.

“Sit,” she ordered.

He obeyed so suddenly she startled. The old Ty would have teased her. The new one had learned to take orders from prison guards. This subservient man wasn’t the Ty Donner who’d chased after the Scudders. The change shook her up, mostly because she didn’t like it. She should have been glad he’d lost his arrogance. Instead she ached for what he’d experienced behind bars.

She dipped her handkerchief in the water, cupped the back of his head and dabbed at the cut. His hair, warm from the sun, tickled her fingers. She couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering to his smooth jaw. He’d once grown a mustache. When she complained that it tickled, he’d shaved it off the next day. Was Ty remembering, too? Her eyes locked on to his. As if they’d never been apart, his gaze made her melt.

Fool!

To hide a blush, she rinsed the hankie in the bucket. She had no business thinking of his clean-shaven jaw. Not only did she need someone to ride in the May Day Maze, she needed someone to muck out stalls, fix fences, mend tools, check the few remaining cattle and paint the house before it turned to splinters. She finished cleaning the cuts, decided they didn’t need stitches, then said, “I hope you plan to work hard, because you just fired my only two hands.”

He shrugged. “They needed firing.”

“I still need help.”

“I can see that.” With a twinkle in his eye, he indicated his wet shirt. “Now that I’ve had a bath, I guess I’m hired.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You needed it.”

She used to enjoy sparring with Ty, and she supposed she still did. They had that way about them, where it sounded like they were bickering but they weren’t. It had been a game between them, but now they had business to conduct. “About wages…I’ll pay you what I paid Obie.”

“Forget it.”

Josie had her pride. “You can’t work for free. It’s just not right.”

“You’re paying me room and board.”

“But—”

“Please don’t argue.”

She barely heard him, a sign he remembered their sparring as sweetly as she did. If she quarreled with him now, they’d end up recalling other spats, the ones that ended in laughter and kisses. “All right,” she agreed. “Room and board it is.”

“Thank you, boss.”

The name annoyed her. Frowning, she emptied the bucket and set it down. Ty stood and pulled his hat low. It hid his eyes, but not the hard line of his jaw. Josie knew that look. He had something to say, but he wouldn’t say it. She felt the same way. Talk would lead to remembering, and remembering would lead to trouble. She had to get away from Ty. “Smoke’s in the north pasture. Go and say hello.”

“I will,” he answered. “But first I’ll tend to my horse and your mule.”

“I’ll do it.”

“No you won’t, boss. It’s my job now.”

“Don’t argue with me.” She couldn’t stand another minute of his sassy attitude. If he was going to call her boss, she’d act like one. “Go see Smoke. That’s an order.”

* * *

Ty couldn’t stand another minute in Josie’s presence. He could still feel her hankie against his skin, her fingertips dabbing at the cuts. The tenderness in her touch didn’t erase the fact he’d taken a beating, but it made the bruises worthwhile. It would take time to win her trust, but defending her honor against Obie’s insults had been a start.

Before he left, he had to square a few details. “I’ll sleep in the bunkhouse. What about meals?”

“I’ll bring your supper and the noon meal here. You can save some bacon and biscuits for breakfast.”

So he wouldn’t be sitting at the table with Josie and her mother the way he used to with Nate. “Anything else?”

She indicated the dilapidated barn. “You can see what needs to be done.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He could have been saying Yes, sir to a prison guard. It would take time to get used to being free.

Josie gave him a peculiar look, then went to put up the animals. Ty headed for the pasture. The path took him past the spot where Gordie had upchucked. He kicked dirt on the mess to save Josie the sight of it, then he rounded the corner of the barn. Flexing his knuckles, he felt the sting of broken flesh. Obie had earned his punishment, but Ty regretted making an enemy. He regretted a lot of things. Some of those regrets were best forgotten, but others could be fixed. He couldn’t make up for ruining Josie’s wedding day, but he could win the race for her.

As he neared the pasture, he searched the perimeter for Smoke. He hoped the horse remembered him. It had taken weeks to earn the stallion’s respect, and he didn’t have time to start over. The Maze was less than a month away.

At the fence he propped a boot on the bottom rail and crossed his arms over the top one. In the far corner he spotted Smoke. The stallion’s coat had darkened, but he still had a silvery sheen that stood out against the sky and grass. If the mustang had the same fire inside, he could outrun any horse in Wyoming. Ty put two fingers in his mouth and whistled the signal he’d taught Smoke when he’d caught him as a yearling. The stallion raised his head, looked in his direction and froze. The first blast had wobbled a bit. Ty tried again. This time the notes were high and sharp.

Smoke broke into a run. Ty hopped the fence. The next thing he knew the horse was nosing his chest in search of carrots. With his heart brimming, Ty wrapped his arms around Smoke’s neck and gave thanks. He’d felt his kind of joy just once before. The day he walked out of prison, he’d felt both free and burdened by his bad choices. He’d wanted to be baptized, so he and Reverend Gaines walked fully clothed into the Cayenne River. The reverend said a prayer, then he bent Ty back and held him tight so he wouldn’t fall. Water rushed up his nose and he’d come up sputtering and full of joy.

He felt that joy now…a good measure, pressed down like grapes giving their juice. It tasted sweeter than honey. In this precious moment, he prayed for Josie, that he could be her friend and save her home. He prayed she’d forgive him. Another prayer formed in his mind, but he didn’t dare give voice to it. He had no right to think about loving her again, and if the truth be told, she’d hurt him, too. Not a single letter… Not even an angry one.

Smoke nosed him again. The force pushed Ty into the railing, and he thought of prison bars. Who said horses didn’t understand jail? Smoke wanted to be free…so did Ty. He wanted to go far and fast until he lost himself in a cloud of dust. He didn’t need a saddle to ride Smoke, so he swung onto the horse’s back. They circled the pasture once and came back to the gate. Ty reached down, unlatched it and Smoke broke into a gallop.

Breathing in perfect rhythm with his horse, Ty felt strong and free. With God’s help, he’d win the race for Josie. He’d give her back the life she’d lost. Maybe then he could make a new life for himself.

Chapter Three

Josie walked into the house, closed the door and leaned against it. She needed to clear her head before she spoke to her mother, but the older woman was coming down the hall in measured steps. Winnie Bright had no trouble navigating her home of twenty-five years. She’d lost the ability to read and see distant mountains, but she could detect patterns of light. She described her vision as looking through fogged glass. She couldn’t identify faces, but she had sharp hearing and remarkable intuition.

“Josie, is that you?”

“It’s me, Mama.”

The older woman emerged from the hall into the front room. Red gingham curtains were tied back, giving the sun full access to the parlor. The rays caught the silver in her mother’s braided coronet, a sharp contrast to the auburn that matched Josie’s own hair. The women would have been the same height, but Mama had shrunk with age and had stooped shoulders. Her posture worried Josie, mostly because she knew her mother’s back hurt all the time.

The older woman walked to her rocking chair and sat. “What happened with Mr. Proffitt?”

“He said no, but it might not matter.”

“Why not?”

“I have a new plan.” Josie sat on the divan. This was her place, where she sewed and fretted. “I found someone to ride in the May Day Maze… Someone who can ride Smoke.”

Mama tilted her head. “That horse belonged to Ty Donner.”

“That’s right.”

“Are you telling me—”

“He’s back.” In a brusque tone, Josie told her mother about Mr. Proffitt denying them a loan, meeting Ty and the decision to ask him to ride in the race. She ended the story with the description of the fight with Obie and Gordie. “I’m stuck with him now,” she said, sounding disgusted. “I hope he can do the work of three men.”

“Working hard was never Ty’s weakness,” Mama replied. “As I recall, the boy worked too hard.”

“He’s not a boy anymore.” Josie tried to sound disinterested, but she’d noticed Ty’s new maturity, both physical and otherwise. She couldn’t help but mourn the marriage and children she’d been denied. Biting her lip, she recalled going with Ty on a picnic and how they talked about the future. She told him that she wanted to give him a son, and he’d kissed her.

I’d like that, Josie girl. But I want a daughter, too.

She’d been surprised. Really?

She’ll grow up to be like you, and I’ll be scaring off boys like me… Someday she’ll wear your wedding dress.

The dress…Josie wished she’d sold it. Instead she’d wrapped it in muslin and shoved it to the back of the top shelf of her wardrobe. She couldn’t think about the gown without feeling bitter, but neither had she been able to part with it. The ruined wedding had been a fulcrum in her life, the tipping point where hope turned to loss and her faith dissolved along with it. If she got rid of the dress, would she heal or would she stay bitter forever? She didn’t know.

Mama put her rocking chair in motion. “Prison changes a person. I imagine Ty’s done some maturing.”

“I suppose.”

The bowed wood creaked against the floor. “Even so, it has to hurt to see him.”

How did her mother do that? Even without clear vision, she saw past Josie’s nonchalance to the pulp of her heart. Josie had been angry with Ty for chasing after the Scudders, but mostly she felt unloved. Just one day for a wedding…that was all she had asked. But it had been too much. Ty set aside her needs for his own, and they’d both lost everything.