“It would be my pleasure.” Reynolds rang a little bell. “I’m sure y’all are both tired, and you have to get an early start. I’ll have Caro show you to your room.”
Caro didn’t hide her frown when she was once again directed to help the two Rangers. They followed her up a wide staircase. Chisholm ran his hand along the worn, rustic pine handrail. Nice workmanship. He’d always loved woodworking. Maybe he’d have a chance to make a handrail for his own place once his Ranger days were over. His father had always promised him a piece of the 7 Heart Ranch, and he’d spent many hours on horseback passing time by imagining his spread.
He and Whit followed Caro down a short hallway until she stopped by a door on the right. “Here is your room. There are two beds and there’s water in the washstand. Since I have to go with the two of you tomorrow, breakfast will be at daylight.”
Whit trekked inside and let out a low whistle. “This sure beats sleeping on the ground. You ladies have made this downright pretty.”
Chisholm set his bag down in the hallway and turned to Caro with a grin on his face. “Thank you, again, for the delicious supper, Miss Cardova.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “It won’t work.”
“Excuse me?”
“Using your Ranger charms on me.” She met his gaze. “You men of duty want everyone to think highly of you. You like to be revered. You want us to believe we need you to save us, but I, sir, do not need you.”
He stifled a chuckle. While her temper surprised him, he found it oddly endearing. “I’ll try to remember that.”
“Please do.” With a huff, she stormed off. But in her haste, she tripped over Chisholm’s bag.
Chisholm could have caught her, but he didn’t. She twisted and landed solidly on her backside with a thud.
She glared at him, accusation in her eyes. “Why didn’t—”
He shrugged. “You said you didn’t need me to save you, so I didn’t.” Without another word, he retrieved his bag, went inside the room, and shut the door, leaving a flustered Miss Cardova in a heap.
Still chuckling to himself, Chisholm took a seat on the bed’s multicolored quilt, tugged off his boots, and withdrew the envelope from his pocket.
Whit punched a feather pillow into his preferred shape. “I heard you two out in the hall, and Chisholm, I think I can say with all certainty that that lady does not like you.”
“I reckon you’re right.” He studied his father’s script on the front of the envelope.
“Well, you’re having way too much fun annoying her, but I guess you deserve a little fun. She seems like a lady who can take it.” Whit spread his lanky frame over the bed. “Are you going to read that letter or hold it all night?”
“Guess I’ll read it.” Chisholm rubbed his chin.
“’Bout time.”
Chisholm unsealed the envelope and took out the paper. His chest squeezed as he read the words on the page. Fear and frustration grew inside him and tangled like two tumbleweeds in a dust storm.
Whit sat back up, his bushy brows scrunched together. “What’s it say? Bad news?”
“Sorta.” A weight settled on Chisholm’s chest. “For some strange reason, my pa has issued an ultimatum.” He stared at the words on the page. “He wants to see each of his sons married and settled. He’s given us one year to find a bride.”
“The whole lot of you? All seven brothers have to marry up in one year?”
Chisholm nodded. “Or we lose our share of the ranch.” The words tasted bitter on Chisholm’s lips. “I can’t believe he’s doing this. My pa is a reasonable man, but this isn’t fair. I’m a Texas Ranger, and I took an oath to serve and protect. Between the Indians and the thieves, Texas is awash in miscreants. Who’s going to make this a civilized place to live if we Rangers take off willy-nilly to go courting?”
Whit smoothed his thick mustache with his hand. “There are Rangers who have wives. Some have even traveled with us.”
“I remember a few, but I can’t drag a soft little lady into a life like that. It wouldn’t be right, and I can’t take a wife and simply put her up at the ranch while I go off to do my job. I’d want to be there to take care of her.” Chisholm stuffed the letter back in the envelope. “I think I have no choice.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to pray about it, but as near as I can tell, I’ll have to give up my share of the ranch.”
Chapter Three
Humming “Fairest Lord Jesus,” Caro looked out the window of the summer kitchen. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, pinking the Texas sky and swallowing the night stars. She gave the scrambled eggs a final stir before heaping the yellow curds in a serving dish and setting them on the tray. Besides the eggs, she’d made fresh biscuits and gravy. Too bad the two Texas Rangers would be eating a congealed blob, but it wasn’t her fault she’d not yet heard a peep out of either of them. She’d told them breakfast would be at daybreak, and she always kept her word—especially today.