Chapter 2  

NORTH FORK, TEXAS

Andrew Simms scanned the horizon as he paced the boardwalk in front of the North Fork depot. The sight of trailing smoke as the train came up out of the Red River Valley brought him to an abrupt stop.

What had he been thinking? When he’d written to an old friend in Dry Gulch asking for prayer about Aunt Martha’s situation, he’d never expected an immediate response suggesting Miss Lucy Benson as the perfect solution. Had he been out of his mind, agreeing to have a stranger take up residence on the ranch?

The train rumbled into the station, and Andrew stepped back to avoid the plume of steam that hissed from beneath the wheels.

What kind of person would volunteer to take on the task of watching over his unpredictable aunt, sight unseen? He hoped she would be intelligent and congenial. It had been hard enough to sell Aunt Martha on the idea of having a companion foisted upon her. Showing up at her door with someone she found unacceptable would only make matters worse.

The conductor leaped from the car to the platform and set a small wooden box at the bottom of the steps. Andrew’s stomach knotted, and he ran his finger around his collar as if the action would help him breathe easier. It didn’t.

The first passenger to alight was a young woman Andrew guessed to be a few years his junior. She smiled her thanks as she took hold of the conductor’s proffered hand and stepped down to the platform, where she smoothed the skirt of her blue dress and adjusted her flowered hat. She looked around, as if she expected someone to be waiting for her.

Andrew glanced behind him and frowned when he saw he was alone. The new arrival wasn’t anyone he recognized from the North Fork area. Why hadn’t someone come to welcome her?

She looked his way with a questioning expression. Embarrassed at being caught staring, Andrew shifted his gaze back to the passenger car, waiting for Lucy Benson to alight. To his surprise, the conductor picked up the wooden box and jumped back on board. A moment later the train gave a lurch and chugged away.

“Wait!” Andrew stepped forward with one hand raised and realized the newly arrived young lady was standing at his elbow.

“Mr. Simms?”

“What?” Andrew stared into her wide blue eyes, an impossible idea forming in his mind. No, it couldn’t be. In his wildest imaginings, he couldn’t picture this refined creature in a setting like the Diamond S.

“Miss Benson?” His voice came out in a dry croak.

A smile wreathed her delicate face, and she extended her right hand. “That’s right. I can’t tell you what a godsend this opportunity is.”

Andrew shook the hand she offered, and continued to stare. So this was Lucy Benson, the woman who was going to ride herd on his cantankerous aunt. Dear heaven.

Lucy gripped the seat of the buckboard as it jounced along the dusty road—up one gentle swell of land and down another. A weary sigh escaped her lips despite her best efforts to hold it in. First the train ride from Amarillo, now this jarring trail, barely more than a track through the sagebrush. She felt more than ready for her interminable journey to end.

She cast a sideways glance at Andrew Simms. His dumbfounded expression when she introduced herself announced more clearly than words that she wasn’t what he’d been expecting. But how could that be, given that he’d agreed to the arrangement orchestrated by the anonymous letter writer?

She glanced down at her gloved hands, clasped on the skirt of her royal blue traveling dress, and wondered what he’d expected. A sturdy farm girl, perhaps? One who could rope and brand cattle or cook for a crew during roundup? Surely not. The job offering hadn’t mentioned anything of the kind, only serving as a companion to his much-loved aunt.

Looking up again, she saw that his attention seemed focused on guiding the horses and took the opportunity to examine him more thoroughly. His appearance was pleasing enough, but outward features didn’t always give a clue to the character that lay within. What kind of man would her new employer turn out to be? Lucy shifted on the seat, uncomfortably aware that they were miles from the nearest town or dwelling. Right now, Andrew Simms was the only person on earth who knew where she was. The thought left her feeling vulnerable, and a bit nervous.

The moment she read the letter describing her new position, a mental image of Martha Simms had formed in Lucy’s mind—a gentle white-haired soul who passed her days in a rocking chair, lost in happy memories of the past. A picture of her nephew had come less readily. His concern for his aunt’s welfare put him in a positive light. Underneath his taciturn exterior, he must have a good heart, though his gruff manner upon their meeting hid it well. He’d barely said a word since asking if she wanted to stop for lunch in town. At that point, her taut nerves had driven thoughts of hunger from her mind, but now she felt her stomach rumble.

“How much farther is it to the ranch?”

Andrew started as though he’d forgotten her presence. “Another thirty minutes or so.” He shook the reins, urging the horses to pick up their pace as though he felt every bit as eager as she to see this uncomfortable ride come to an end.

Thirty minutes. Lucy sighed and dug in her carpetbag. Rummaging through its contents, she pulled out two apples and held them up. “Would you like one?”

Andrew glanced at the fruit in her hand, and the lines in his forehead deepened. “Thank you. I should have insisted on getting you a meal in town before we started. You had no way of knowing how long the drive would be.” He accepted one of the apples and took a bite.

“I’m not famished. I just thought it would be nice to have a little snack.” Lucy bit into the crisp apple and savored the juicy tartness. With the ice thus broken, she plunged ahead. “Tell me about your aunt. I’d like to know more about what’s expected of me.”

Andrew chewed thoughtfully for a moment, then turned to look at her full on for the first time since helping her into his buckboard. She felt a flush rise up her neck under the impact of his gaze, and she studied his face more closely. When he wasn’t gaping like a poleaxed steer or driving along in moody silence, he was rather nice looking. With wavy chestnut hair framing chiseled features and a tanned complexion that spoke of long days spent outdoors, he could easily fit the role of the handsome rancher Dottie had teased her about. His lips were firm, but not clamped tight like Walter’s when he was displeased with her. A crease marked his cheek just beyond the right corner of his mouth. Lucy wondered if it deepened into a dimple when he smiled. Her eyes moved a few inches lower and focused on the cleft in his chin. The indentation would just fit the tip of her finger, if she pressed it there.

“My aunt is a wonderful woman.” Andrew’s voice jolted her back to the moment. He seemed to choose his words with care. “She and Uncle Ebenezer pretty much raised me. Since he passed away three years ago, she and I are the only near family either one of us has left.”

Lucy’s breath caught in her throat, and she knotted her hands in her lap.

“Are you all right?”

Lucy bobbed her head in a brief nod. “It’s just that I know how that feels—being alone in the world, I mean. My mother died when I was young, and I lost my father just a few months ago.”

She took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. “Shortly after the funeral, I learned he made some bad investments and lost everything. Not only was my father gone, but the house and all our possessions, as well. I don’t have a penny to my name.” The confession brought a bitter taste to her mouth.

Andrew remained silent a moment. “That’s why you spoke of this job as being a godsend?”

Lucy looked away and sighed. “I was living on the charity of a friend’s parents. I had to find some way to get out of there and make my own way.” Pulling herself together, she squared her shoulders and faced him again. “Enough about me. You were talking about your relationship with your aunt.”

Andrew studied her before he continued. “We’ve always been close. Aunt Martha has been good to me, and I want to make her remaining years as happy as possible. I’ve offered to buy a small house for her in North Fork, but she’s stubbornly independent. She absolutely refuses to leave the ranch.”

Lucy looked out over the gently rolling landscape. “I can understand not wanting to leave the place where she’s lived for so many years.” She felt a pang at the memory of her childhood home, now in someone else’s hands.

“So can I. The Diamond S has been her home since she and my uncle built it up nearly twenty years ago.”

Lucy polished off another bite of her apple. “I’m sure she treasures your visits. Are you able to see her often?”

“Not as often as either of us would like. Especially not since I started a business in North Fork a year ago. I sell and install windmills to ranchers and farmers all over this part of the state.” His face took on a glow, and he seemed to grow taller on the buckboard seat. “There’s something about the look on a rancher’s face when the wind turns the vanes and the pump jack starts sucking up water and pumping it into the tank for the first time.”

Lucy’s lips parted. “Streams in the desert. That must seem almost like a miracle.”

A smile lit Andrew’s face. “That’s it exactly. This is a wonderful land, filled with promise. All it needs to be a paradise is water—and I can help supply that. It means a fair amount of traveling, though. I like to direct things myself when a windmill is being installed. I can leave the business in the care of my foreman while I’m gone on those trips, but I still have to stay on top of day-to-day operations.”

He finished his apple and tossed the core to the side with an easy overhand motion. “That’s why I’m hoping this works out for Aunt Martha. I would hate to force her to leave the ranch, but it’s gotten to the point where I can’t leave her out there on her own much longer.”

Lucy nodded, making mental notes. Martha Simms might be a frail, gray-haired widow, but she sounded spirited enough to dig in her heels and take a stand when she needed to. And that was a good thing. Lucy didn’t relish the thought of spending her days with a meek shell of a woman.

“Is your aunt’s health sound?”

Andrew let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Oh yes. She’s healthy enough. You won’t be dealing with an invalid, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Lucy furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand. If she’s in good health and doesn’t mind being on her own, why does she need someone to stay with her?”

Andrew’s smile faded, and he shifted on the seat. “It isn’t her physical condition I’m worried about. It’s more . . . mental.”

Lucy sat bolt upright. “You mean she’s unbalanced?”

“No, nothing like that.” Andrew patted the air as if warding the thought away. “She isn’t deranged—exactly. It’s just that she’s been . . . imagining things.”

Lucy eyed him narrowly. “What sort of things?”

Andrew cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on the road ahead. “Over the past couple of months, she’s claimed to see some pretty peculiar things going on around the ranch house. She says . . .” His voice trailed off, and Lucy almost missed the next words.

“Excuse me? Did you say something about a cow jumping over the moon?”

Andrew paused a moment, then went on as if he hadn’t heard. “There’s nothing to it, of course, but I can’t persuade her it’s all in her head. As much as this has been preying on her mind, I’m concerned she might get herself in a situation where she could get hurt. That’s why I thought it would be a good idea to have someone around to keep an eye on her.”

A heavy weight settled in Lucy’s stomach. “So my staying with her is all your idea? How does she feel about it?”

“She seemed fine when we discussed it.” Andrew jiggled the reins and clucked at the horses again.

Lucy waited for him to elaborate, but that seemed to be the extent of his conversation for the moment.