Page 22 of The Rancher's Wedding

Dearest Megan,

It has been ever so wonderful receiving your letters in the mail. As much as I’m glad to be away from the city life, it’s delightful to hear that everything’s going well for you, though I do confess that I wish you had sufficient motivation to come out here to Grafton Town. But I digress.

On that note, I have noticed you’ve been in communication with our beloved Jacob here at the ranch. Has he been responding? Oh, I do hope you two continue your correspondence. Every time I say your name, his face lights up. I do believe you have stolen his heart—and the proper thing to do would be to come back and return it, then keep watch over it as his doting wife.

I apologize for not keeping you abreast of the situation here but, as I’m sure you understand, life has been busy over the past few weeks. I have been working on the ranch with Michael, who is very patient in teaching me all of the inner workings. I assure you, though, that it is not all work from dawn until dusk. It’s peculiar how, though the days are busy, there’s a certain relaxed quality that one doesn’t get back in the city. Things need to be done, but they get done at their own pace and in their own way. Dinner does not start at 6 o’clock sharp. It starts when I finish cooking. And I don’t start cooking until my duties are finished for the day.

Oh, how I wish my mother could be here to assist me. I have Michael’s help for all of the ranch chores, but I am figuring out the kitchen duties and cleaning on my own. My mother always did try to teach me when I was younger, but I never paid her the attention she deserved. It’s no matter, though, as I’m teaching myself. Perhaps when you come live with us, you can help me with such things.

Look at me! I’m doing it again. Of course, I would love to have you here, but it is entirely your choice. Still, it’s worth noting that since he had his shave and haircut for the wedding, Jacob has become quite the eligible bachelor—I suggest you come out here and claim him before someone else does.

Have you been in touch with my father? I’m curious as to how he’s doing and, if I may be perfectly honest, also concerned. I received a letter from him which I dare not open. It was addressed to one “Estelle Williams, proximate to Michael Holden, Grafton Town, Utah” and that was evidently enough for the postal service to deliver it. The address is vague, but it’s still a bit unsettling that he managed to get so much information as to my whereabouts. Do you have any ideas? This is, naturally, not me trying to accuse you of anything; I know perfectly well that any secret I tell you is as safe as if I had told nobody at all. Still, he must have found out somehow, and I worry that if he could send a letter, then he may be able to pay me a visit—and, perhaps, even get my marriage to Michael annulled.

Oh, and no, to answer your question, I still have not told Michael the truth about my family and my arranged marriage. I feel awful for lying to him, but does it truly matter? I am his wife now and whether I arrived here as an orphan or a wealthy young woman, the fact of the matter is that now I am a rancher’s wife and that’s what’s important.

Still, I suspect he’s suspicious and I worry that secrets can create distance between two people. At some point, I suppose I will need to tell him, but it still feels too early in our marriage and too intimate a truth to reveal. Why, if he finds out, he’s just as likely to annul the marriage as my father might be.

I wish I could speak to you directly and that you could be here with me to help me decide what to do, but I shall have to rely on your letters. I miss you dearly and wish with all my heart that I will see you again soon.

Sincerely,

Estelle Holden

***

Estelle sealed the letter and placed a stamp on it, then left her room to find Michael. She eventually saw he was in the barn, sitting on a stool, milking the cows.

She watched from a distance as he remained focused on his work and felt her heart swell in her chest. It was a good feeling, to be sure, but it wasn’t a good feeling that left her comfortable. It made her nervous, especially knowing that she was keeping a secret from him.

She approached him tentatively.

“I was wondering,” Estelle said, “if you would care to escort me to town so I could mail this.”

Michael stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“You ever had milk like this when it’s fresh?” he asked. He pulled a cup from a counter and scooped some milk into it, then handed to her.

She looked at it cautiously. It had just, moments ago, been inside the large, bulky animal beside Michael. Thinking of it that way, it didn’t sound too appealing to her, but she closed her eyes and took the cup from Michael, the tips of their fingers touching for a moment, swelling Estelle’s heart just a bit more and causing her to nearly drop the cup when she grabbed it.

“Careful, there,” Michael said.

She brought the cup to her lips, eying Michael the whole time, watching him watch her, and took a sip.

It was full and creamy, still a bit warm, and filled her throat with a nice, comforting feeling. Her instinct was to go lie down and take a nap, rather than head into town.

“It’s delicious,” she said. “Why doesn’t all milk taste like this?”

“It’s not fresh. I bet you can get milk any day of the year no matter where you are out in Philadelphia, can’t you?”

“Sure,” Estelle said.

“But it don’t taste half as good as what I just gave you. Only difference is I had to raise the cow myself and do the work of getting the milk out of it. I don’t mean to make fun or criticize. I’m sure life out there’s mighty nice for the right kind of people, but I like it better here—and I hope you will, too.”

She smiled. “Michael, I haven’t been here very long, but I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave.”

“Me either,” he said. “I mean, I don’t want to leave, but also I want you to stay, too.” He looked at her and she looked back, the two staring at each other for longer than either intended until Michael broke the silence. “You were asking if I wanted to take you to town?”

“Yes. I need to mail a letter.”

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