Hank had eyed her warily after the cake incident, but seemed not to be bothered after he’d been given a napkin and cleaned up. Mercifully, he hadn’t done the same to her.
They’d been the first to leave due to Hank’s appointment, and he’d said he wanted to see her settled in her new room before the arrival of whomever he expected.
Hank pulled the buggy up to the front of the ranch house and went around, helping her out. He didn’t release her hand right away, and took his hat off, and said, “You look beautiful, Clara, and thank you for wearing my mother’s dress.”
She looked down, smoothing her skirts. “I notice that the tie you’re wearing matches,” she said, referring to the turquoise bolo tie he had on, the light blue color the exact shade as the dress.
“My father gave it to me right before the wedding. I didn’t know why, but I wore it out of respect. My guess would be it’s what he wore when they got married.”
“Did you know your father had sent the dress?” She pulled her hand away and started up the steps to the house. Hank pulled his hat down and followed.
“No, he hadn’t told me. I still think there’s something strange going on.”
Clara waited as Hank opened the door for her, ushering her inside. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room. I hope you don’t mind joining in with the crowd in the house, but there’s not a choice for now. Besides, when I head out on the trail next week, it’ll be better for you to have company.”
She followed him down a long hallway with doors on both the left and the right, and into the one she’d seen during their brief tour before.
Hank set her bags down on the small, wooden bench at the foot of the bed as she looked around. The room was cool due to the thick adobe walls, the window open to the garden behind the house.
The doors to the large, dark wood wardrobe stood open, its shelves empty. Hank followed her gaze and said, “The room is all ready for you. Our housekeeper will be in shortly to help you unpack.”
She turned from the window and walked toward the bed. “That won’t be necessary, really. You go on ahead to your appointment. I can manage.”
Hank sighed and looked back out the door to the grandfather clock that stood in the hall. “I really do have to go, Clara. I’ll be back later this evening for supper. And please do take advantage of Maria, at least to show you around to the facilities.”
Clara took off her white gloves and laid them down with her hat on the bed. “Really, Hank, I’ll be fine. Please, go ahead.” She smiled weakly as he hesitated then left, shutting the door behind him.
“Some wedding day,” she muttered, propping her head on the windowsill and dropping her chin into her hands. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thoughts that clamored in. It really had been a beautiful wedding, her friends going to a great deal of trouble—particularly with the short notice. She reminded herself to be more grateful.
Clara banged her head on the top of the short window frame as a, “Hello,” jarred her out of her self-pity.
Rubbing the top of her head, she peered out the window, greeted by the shy face of Saffron, one of the twins. The longest, most beautiful eyelashes Clara had ever seen fluttered over big, brown eyes, her shy smile welcome.
“Hello to you, too,” Clara said, accepting the single daisy that Saffron held out to her.
“I wasn’t sure that we needed any more sisters at first, but Pepper said we didn’t have a choice, that it’s what Papa wanted.”
Clara groaned, once again reminded of her place—and purpose—in this household. “Thank you for the flower, Saffron. I will try to be a good sister, as all of your others are.”
Saffron laughed, her hand to her mouth. “Who said they’re good sisters? Not all the time, anyway.”
“Oh,” Clara said as she laughed, thinking of Lucy and Lily. “Hopefully, I’ll be one of the good ones. I’d like to be, anyway.”
“I hope so, too.” Saffron walked away slowly, but stopped as Clara said, “Thank you for welcoming me to your household. I imagine it has been a bit of a surprise.”
Saffron looked at her intently, walking back over and squeezing her hand through the window, to Clara’s surprise. “We’ve had some time to get used to it. I, for one, am glad you’re here.” Her shy smile returned before she ran off further into the garden.
Clara pulled her head back in the window. Holding the daisy to her cheek, her heart filled with warmth at the shy greeting she’d just received.
She moved to the door when a soft rap came, thinking it was the housekeeper to help her get settled. “Thank you very much but I don’t need—”
She stopped mid-sentence at the sight of her new father-in-law outside of her door. He looked down at his polished boots, his hands clasped behind his back, his head popping up as she opened the door.
“Hello, Clara. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to thank you for today. I’m sure you know how much it means to me,” he said.
“I do, Mr. Archer. And thank you for the dress. It was an honor to wear it.”
His eyes misted as he looked down at the dress Clara still wore. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m glad that you wore it. It looks lovely on you.”
She stood waiting as he looked around. “Where is Hank?”
Clara sighed. “We had to come back early. He said he had an appointment, down at the barn, I believe.”
His lips fell in a thin line. “Is he messing around breaking horses again?” He looked out the window in the direction of the barn.
“I don’t know, exactly, but I think so. Isn’t that what he does best?”
“Best? It depends on how you define best. Hank is the best trail boss I’ve ever seen. And he’s heading out in a few days, so he should be getting ready for that, not training some stranger’s horses.”
Clara watched as her father-in-law grew more agitated with every word. She squared her shoulders, and even though she was angry with Hank, she said, “Mr. Archer, shouldn’t people be able to choose what they want to be best at? He’s awfully good with horses. They listen to him.”
“Listen to him?” he scoffed. “Don’t be silly. Horses don’t ‘listen’, they only know what they’re told to do.”
She lifted her chin and continued. “I’ve seen him with the horses and it’s…special.”
Beau fumed in front of her, his hands clenching. “Now, young lady, we have a business to run, and it has priorities. There’s no time for him to chase those fantasies of his that the horses ‘listen’ to him. There are cattle to be run.”
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to say—”
“I know what you were trying to say, and I’ll have none of it. And truthfully, it’s not any of your business. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” he said as he gave her a curt nod and turned on his heel toward the front door.
Clara shut the door and plopped on the bed. She worried the hem of her dress and reached into her valise to find another one, more suitable. Or at least durable.
As she hung the crystal blue wedding dress in the wardrobe, she smoothed it, tucking it in, wondering how she would ever fit here. Clearly, she’d been told to mind her own business. She wasn’t sure that was something she could do now that she knew her husband needed her.