READ ON FOR
AN EXCITING INSTALLMENT
OF SEASONS OF GLORY,
THE NEXT ROMANCE
FROM CHERYL ANNE PORTER …

 

 

 

 

Mama’s and Papa’s dream had been for a better life for them all. But now … Mama and Papa were buried out back, alongside old Pete. And Glory’s older sisters? They were gone from home, looking for answers, for vengeance. That left her in charge. Glory swallowed, keenly feeling the responsibility pressing squarely on her shoulders for every man, horse, cow, and blade of grass for miles around.

She couldn’t do this. A prick of panic gripped her belly, urged her to run after Jacey and again beg her to stay. No. Glory stubbornly fisted her hands in her shawl’s folds. No. It’s best to think about what I can do. Which wasn’t much, she admitted. After all, Papa’d seen to the day-to-day running of the ranch, the hiring and firing, the buying and selling of the cattle, the ordering of supplies. Jacey’d dogged his every step, so she knew all those ins-and-outs. But she was gone.

And Mama … well, she tried to teach me, Glory grimaced, seeing herself again dawdling so long over tasks that Mama would shake her elegant head, shoo her, and put the work in Hannah’s capable hands. Thus freed—the memory now pricked at Glory’s conscience—she’d fritter away the hours in her room, indulging her romantic daydreams of her own home, a loving husband, and her own beautiful children.

Just how you intend to take care of them, Mama’d fussed, when you won’t lend your hand to the simplest of tasks, I’ll never know, Glory Bea Lawless.

Oh, why hadn’t she paid more attention, asked more questions? Because here she was now—nineteen and helpless. And in charge. Well, surely I know something. Glory bit thoughtfully at her lower lip. She’d helped Mama some with the bookkeeping. And got in the way when Biddy was baking. And she’d also … nothing else came to mind. Surprised realization stiffened her spine. That’s it? That’s all I know?

Glory blinked, found she was staring at Biddy’s wide and capable back. Solace and reassurance rested with her. In a blaze of emotion, Glory hurried to her and clutched at her beloved nanny. Biddy’s squawk of startlement at being grabbed from behind blended with Glory’s heartfelt and sobbing cry of “You’re the only one who hasn’t left me, Biddy. I love you.”

Biddy turned in Glory’s embrace and hugged her tightly. “There, there, child. I love you, too. Yer sisters will be back. We must believe that. But right now ’tis you I’m worried about. Yer breakin’ me heart—all that time ye spend at yer poor parents’ graves. ’Tis not good for ye. Why, look at yerself—ye haven’t eaten or slept properly for the past month. Are ye still havin’ those nightmares?”

Nestling her face in the warm crook of her nanny’s neck and shoulder, her world once again warm and secure, Glory nodded her head and sniffed inconsolably. Biddy patted her and held her until she felt strong enough to pull away. Glory smiled that she was okay and then turned to stare out at the wind-stirred tallgrass. “I keep … seeing them, Biddy. Mama and Papa. Just lying there. All that blood.”

For long moments, Glory suspended thought, allowing the terrible pain in her chest to subside. Than she squared her shoulders against her sorrow and pivoted again to face Biddy. “I’ve been thinking about … well, everything. The ranch. Hannah gone, and now Jacey. Me—the only one left to keep the place going. Why, I don’t have the first idea about how to do that. But Jacey seems to think I can. And it’s not like I have a choice, is it? Because this ranch was Mama’s and Papa’s dream. They made it our home. And now I have to see that the dream lives. There’s no one else but me to do it.”

Having made that brave speech, she stood there, feeling alone and already bested by circumstances. Her shoulders slumped right along with her resolve. “Oh, Biddy, what am I saying? I don’t know a thing about running a cattle ranch. It’ll all die because of me.” The enormity of it all brought her hands to her mouth. She stared teary-eyed at her grandmotherly nanny.

Who leapt into action. “Now, child, don’t take on so. You’ll do a fine job of it. And ’tis plenty of help ye’ll have. Why, Smiley’s been the foreman since yer father settled the place. He’ll help you with the everyday ranching decisions. An’ Sourdough’s out in the cook shack stirrin’ up the men’s breakfast this minute. He knows what supplies are needed and when to get them. An’ there’s me, darlin’. I’ll be takin’ good care of you. See? Ye’ll be naught but an overseer until yer sister comes home.”

Heartened by Biddy’s cheery picture, Glory smiled—and exhaled for the first time since Jacey’d announced yesterday afternoon that she was leaving. “You’re right. We’ll be just fine. Hannah and Jacey will be so proud when they come home. The ranch’ll be better than ever.”

“That’s the spirit, child.” Biddy beamed with pride. “Those are the first words ye’ve uttered in a month that show some gumption.” She clasped Glory’s hand with both of hers. “’Tis proud of me baby, I am.”

“Now, Biddy, you can’t go on calling me a baby,” Glory chided, feeling stronger by the minute. “I’m a grown woman in charge of a cattle ranch. And I’m a Lawless. Papa’s blood flows through my veins. And the way I see it, that more than makes up for whatever I don’t know yet.”

Biddy stared a moment but then her expression changed, softened. Her mouth puckered with some emotion. She pulled her hand free and covered her quivering lips with it.

Glory tensed. “What is it, Biddy?” What’s wrong?”

Biddy shook her head, unsettling gray, wispy curls from her knotted little bun. But then her expression became intense. She gripped Glory’s arm with a fierceness that surprised her. “Listen to me, child. Ye’ll need other help besides that of a bunch of old folks who maybe canna protect you, should them murderers decide to ambush us again. So I’ll hear no talk of Lawless pride and how ye can take care of yer own without outside help. ’Tis rubbish and will see us all dead. I want a promise from you. Should outside help come a-callin’, promise me ye’ll accept it, Glory Bea. Promise me.”

Truly alarmed now—she hadn’t considered the possibility that the unknown men who killed Mama and Papa might return—Glory cried, “I promise, Biddy. I swear it. Do you really think they might come back?”

SEASONS OF GLORY—

Coming soon from

Cheryl Anne Porter and
St. Martin’s Paperbacks!