- Home
- Danni Roan
Mae: Book Six: The Cattleman's Daughters
Mae: Book Six: The Cattleman's Daughters Read online
Mae
Book Six: The Cattleman’s Daughters
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Prologue
Boston, Massachusetts April 1891
“Ouch! Ginny, are you trying to strangle me?” Mae’s voice was pinched like the rest of her being squeezed into the tight satin corset that engulfed her rib cage and waist.
“Sorry, Miss,” the bean-pole of a young woman said, but the smile never left her face. “Ms. Johnson said you’re to look your best.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to breath throughout the night in this thing, let alone dance and socialize,” Mae grumbled, looking down at the flounce of ruffles sewn into her bodice and wrinkling her nose. “Maybe if you hung me upside down, gravity would make my modest bosom rise to the occasion,” she added with a twinkle.
A sudden loosening of the strings at her back was her first warning, followed immediately by peels of embarrassed laughter from the young woman who was simply trying to do her job.
“Miss Mae, please stop. We’ll never have you ready.”
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Mae inhaled deeply, then turned to smile at the girl who was more than her maid, if less than a friend. “I’m sorry, Ginny,” she said, lifting a hand to cover her own giggles, her dark eyes sparkling with repressed life.
Eventually gaining control of herself once more, Ginny moved into position behind Mae. “It does seem like a waste of time lacing you into this thing, doesn’t it?” the girl not much older than her ward said. “You’re already so tiny.”
“I’m not a mouse, you know,” Mae grumbled, grabbing the side of her wardrobe once more while Ginny pulled her lacings tight.
“I only meant that you’re so petite,” Ginny started; even after all this time, she still jumped when she thought she was being reprimanded.
“Never mind,” Mae said, a sly grin spreading across her face as she held her breath. If she’d been a horse, she would probably get a knee to the belly about now to keep her from stretching the saddle girth.
“What’s so funny?” Ginny questioned suspiciously.
“Oh, nothing,” Mae squeaked, “just thinking about the party.”
“There - all done,” Ginny finally said, tying off the ribbons and eying her work, “now sit down and I’ll finish with your hair.
Mae moved to the bureau, taking a seat before the large mirror and sitting as comfortably as she could with whale bone stays compressing her midriff.
“You are going to be the most beautiful woman at the party tonight,” Ginny gushed, pulling a long strand of blue-black hair through her hands and brushing it before swirling it into an elaborate loop on top of Mae’s head.
“No one else will hold a candle to you.” Ginny tended toward exaggeration to Mae’s way of thinking.
For a moment Mae examined herself in the mirror. She was seventeen and there was no doubt that the past year in Boston had changed her. Dark, upswept eyes gazed back at her from a heart-shaped face that seemed slightly too pale, outlined by her pitch-black hair.
She could see that the apples of her cheeks were fuller than they had been when she’d first arrived at her aunt’s door, more pronounced by the hollows below. Where before her skin was bronzed by the sun, it was now soft white.
A sigh escaped her as she thought of home.
“Don’t you go getting all maudlin on me now,” Ginny chided, “besides, Miss Melissa will be here soon.”
A bright smile spread across Mae’s face at the thought of her first true friend in Boston. “She’s so beautiful, Ginny, I can’t wait to see her tonight. I know she’ll outshine us all.”
“And don’t forget Mr. Reese,” Ginny said, her eyes going dreamy at the sound of his name.
“Yes, Reese will be here, too,” Mae replied, rolling her eyes at the romantically inclined girl, even as her mind drifted back to the day she’d met her closest friend.
Chapter 1
Boston, Massachusetts October 1890
“I do hope that Ginny remembered to post my letter today,” Mae James spoke softly, her voice pitched toward the open carriage she rode next to.
“I’m sure Ginny did as she was told, as all good servants do.” Jemma Johnson turned her powdered face toward her niece, perched prettily upon the handsome bay mare that ambled quietly along beside the carriage.
“Your seat is quite improved, dear,” the older woman said, her ice-blue eyes, so like Mae’s father’s, assessing the young woman - measuring her.
“Thank you, Aunt Jemma. It’s such a pleasure to finally ride.” Mae wanted to add for the umpteenth time that it would be better if she could ride astride like the gentlemen did, but she was tired of that fight. At the moment she was simply glad to be able to ride at all.
Somehow Mae was sure that Aunt Jemma meant well, but she felt like she would suffocate if she didn’t get out more.
With a gentle hand, Mae stroked the neck of her tall bay. The horse was of the finest stock, sleek and well-cared for, but timid and far more gentle than she would have liked. The mare bobbed its head and nickered softly at her touch.
Ahead of them another riding trail merged with the wide avenue they were traversing in the park; a pair of riders coming from that direction seemed engrossed in their own heated conversation.
Mae watched as the young blonde woman sat straight on her dappled gray, moving smoothly toward the junction, while the lean, dark-haired young man worked the double bridle of his fractious chestnut, trying to keep the animal at an even pace.
The sudden loud squeal of the gray mingled with the scream of the young woman caught everyone by surprise, plunging the chestnut into a fit of rearing and flailing as the gray leapt into full gallop.
The whole world seemed to slow around her, stretched out like taffy at the wharf, as Mae’s quick eyes took in the scene in a split second, and she’d laid spur to her mount plunging into the fray.
The gentle mare leapt, stretching her long legs and extending her neck as she reached for speed. Mae leaned over her mount’s neck, asking for the animal’s best with rein and voice alike and the horse responded, lining out parallel over the hard-packed trail.
In a few more paces, Mae’s horse was abreast with the gray, neck and neck in a wild race. Shifting her weight forward and to the side, Mae reached for the other horse’s bridle but missed. She couldn’t get a balanced grip that wouldn’t pull them both down.
Painfully she slid her right leg up along the top pommel until her knee reached its summit and hooked behind the tall guard that kept her leg in place on the side-saddle.
With petticoats now flapping, she stretched across the mare’s neck, grasped the cheek piece of the gray’s bridle, and began pulling both horses to a stop.
“Whoa, whoa.” She gently eased the mare and gelding alike to a trembling halt. The sound of galloping hooves behind her made the horses jostle and she tightened her grip on the gray.
“Melissa! Melissa!”
A strong male voice crowded around them, causing Mae to look behind her. The young man on the flighty chestnut horse had arrived, flinging himself from the saddle he raced around to the gray’s head.
Mae winched as the gray tossed its head and skittered sideways, but forced her mare to move with him with only the pressure of her legs.
A moment later the man had swept the young blonde woman off of her still trembling mount and pulled her into his arms.
“Are you alright? Whatever happened?” Gently he placed the young woman on her feet and pushed her away enough to see that she was unharmed, examining her with his eyes.
“I’m alright. I’m alright, Reese,” the girl whimpered, still clinging to his arms, dust and tears streaking her pretty face. “She saved me,” she added, struggling from his strong embrace and turning toward Mae, who was still precariously wedged between her saddle and her horse’s neck as she held to the gray’s bridle.
“Heavens!” The man jumped, grasping the reins of the gray gelding and sliding around its head to get to her heaving mare.
“Well, get her down, you ninny,” the woman spoke again. “She looks terribly uncomfortable there.” She added with a sniff.
“Yes, of course” The young man eased himself between the two horses, looking at the petite girl – no, woman - sitting on the sagging bay. The rider’s black hair had become unpinned from her riding cap and parts of it trailed down her back, cascading across the seat of her side-saddle.
“You were very brave,” he stuttered, gazing into dark, upturned eyes that held a sparkle instead of fear. A bright pink blush, a flush of excitement, graced her soft cheeks and it made him smile.
“It’s nothing,” the young woman said, her hand going to her horse’s mane as she tried to right herself, causing a rustle of petticoats to fan themselves across barely exposed black boots.
Reese Middleton stood mesmerized. He had never seen a young woman quite so enchanting before. There was something different about her. She should have been shaking like his sister or crying or raving, not smiling at him as if it were all a lark.
“Mae! Mae!” A harsh female voice broke through Reese’s tangled thoughts. “What in God’s name were you thinking, child?”
A large old-fashioned, open carriage trundled up beside them. “I’ll never take you riding again, you foolish girl!”
“Madam,” Reese blustered, puffing out his chest and standing to his full height, “This young woman very likely saved my sister’s life. I hardly think that warrants punishment.” He turned toward the older woman, his deep green eyes meeting an icy-blue stare. If he hadn’t been so agitated, he would have shivered under that glare.
“And who might you be when you’re at home, young man?” the woman asked haughtily, her chin rising.
“I’m Melissa Middleton, Ma’am,” Reese’s sister stepped in, “and I’m terribly sorry for all of this…” A silver tear slipped down her face.
Reese watched as the older woman squinted at his sister. “Middleton, did you say?” A strange look passed over her aged countenance as she looked Melissa up and down.
“Yes, ma’am, please, please don’t be angry, let us all settle down a minute. I still feel as weak as a kitten.” She gasped leaning against the carriage.
Reese turned toward his sister, worry and fear rising like a tide in his soul, but just as he started to step toward her she waved him away.
“Reese dear, please help the young lady down. I’m sure Mrs….” She paused, blinking at the older woman, innocently.
“Johnson, Mrs. Jemma Johnson,” the woman replied.
“I’m sure Mrs. Johnson would be kind enough to let me rest in her carriage. I feel quite lightheaded.”
“Jenkins, don’t just sit there,” Jemma Johnson snapped at her driver. “Help the girl in and settle her.”
Reese caught the twinkle in his sister’s bright green eyes as the driver climbed down from the seat and took her arm.
Mae’s back was beginning to cramp as she started to lose her hold on her horse’s mane. If she didn’t find a way to regain her balance soon she would slide, face first, into the path. She’d had enough of that kind of embarrassment at home and the thought made her shiver.
“Allow me.” The young man that the girl had called Reese stepped up, lifting his arms toward her as she lost her last hold; his large hands wrapped around her waist and she fell into his arms, sliding down his chest until she stood on her own two feet.
Wrapping his arms around the young woman, Reese was startled at how light she was. How could a slip of a girl have had the strength to pull that retched horse to a stop?
“Are you alright?” he asked, looking down into her dark eyes. She barely came to his chest but her upturned face was doing strange things to his head. She didn’t seem frightened or upset at all, yet he couldn’t seem to let her go.
“Ahem,” the older woman in the carriage cleared her throat, bringing Reese out of his stupor.
“Mae, are you alright?” the woman’s terse tones made Reese wonder if she really cared.
“Yes, ma’am,” the girl replied, demurely dipping her head.
“Then I suggest you accompany me and our new guest in the carriage.” Her icy glare shot through Reese and he stepped away from the petite, black-haired beauty.
Ducking her head, the young woman slipped out of his grasp and took a step, but faltered and stumbled. Without thinking he reached for her, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders.
“Are you injured?” he asked, looking between her and his sister who now sat on the white upholstered seat of the carriage.
“Tarnation!” The girl’s expletive made him blink.
“Mae!”
“Sorry Auntie, but my leg’s gone to sleep.”
Reese Middleton ran a hand across his face to suppress the smile. He could see by the dower look on Mrs. Johnson’s face that laughter would not do.
“Lean on me, then,” he offered, schooling his face to calm, and extended his arm.
The girl called Mae lifted her eyes to his and offered the tiniest of smiles. It was as if the whole thing were great fun to her.
Together they hobbled to the carriage and he helped her up the step, easing her in beside his sister.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the small group and Reese looked from Mrs. Johnson, to Melissa, to Mae and then to the driver who stood motionless by the horses’ heads. What a strange situation.
“Oh, for goodness sakes, Jenkins, we will need you to drive, of course,” Mrs. Johnson chided, her lips compressing into a disapproving line.
“Tarnation!” Reese expostulated, turning in a half circle as the driver climbed back to his seat. A titter caught his ear and he blinked surprised eyes at the girl who gazed at him with a sparkle. Melissa burst into laughter at the look on his face.
“You should really mind your language around ladies, young man,” the older woman said, glaring at him.
“I do apologize, it’s just that my horse…” his voice trailed off as the girl called Mae tried to suppress a smile by covering her mouth with a gloved hand.
“He seems to have wandered off, doesn’t he?” she said, still laughing at him with her eyes. “Horses really should know better, don’t you think?” Her smile widened as she made a small chirping sound, like a lark.
Behind him Reese felt the bay mare stir and nicker. He stood dumb-founded as the tall horse moved slowly toward the carriage, reaching out her nose to the young woman.
“Good girl, Maud,” she said, rubbing a gloved hand over the horse's nose even as she lifted the reins, securing them to the rear of the carriage, all the while looking at him as if it was the easiest thing in the world to call your horse to you.
“Reese dear,” Melissa’s voice pulled him from his reverie. “Why don’t you take Dandy and go find your horse, then you can meet us at…” she looked imploringly at the woman across from her.
Jemma Johnson lifted an eyebrow at the young blonde woman who s
at across from her in her very own carriage. She’d heard of the Middletons, and it would not be wise to ruffle their feathers.
“We’ll retire to my home for tea,” she stated, looking at Reese. “You can fetch your sister later,” she added, retrieving a card from her reticule and handing it to him. “I do hope you will collect her in a more appropriate conveyance this time.” She eyed the dapple horse that stood behind him, still twitching from its fright.
“Aunt Jemma, I’m sure Dandy is a perfectly fine mount,” Mae said, “He simply had a fright. Didn’t you notice? He’s been bitten by a blue-tailed fly.” Her smirk hit Reese in the gut.
The woman’s stony countenance cut off whatever else the young woman had to say and a moment later the driver had clicked to his team and started along the path toward the entrance to the park.
Reese Middleton stood staring after the black carriage for several slow steady beats of his heart before the jingling of bit and bridle from the horse behind him finally brought him back to his surroundings.
Turning on his heel he examined the horse, checking for any signs of injury but when none were apparent, he gathered up the reins, then stopped cold.
“Blast!” he bellowed, then let a smile spread across his face. Dandy was wearing his sister’s side-saddle; the animal was as useless to him as if it had only three legs. With a wry chuckle he stepped out, leading the gray horse behind.
Chapter 2
The steady clip-clop of the horses’ feet as they pulled the long black carriage out into streets of Boston merged with the sounds of traffic, but inside the open transport a silence seemed to settle, blocking everything else out.
The young woman, so recently rescued, dabbed at the tear stains on her cheeks and fussed with her hair, trying to set it right.
Mae studied her aunt, wondering if she would be banned from riding for good this time. Jemma had little patience with failure.
“Fix your hair, Mae,” Jemma Johnson snapped, her voice shattering the silence and letting all the noise and bustle of the city street engulf them. “It’s not fitting for a young lady to be seen with her hair down in public.” The disapproving tone was all too familiar.