Page 18 of The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband

“I would. I really would,” Graham said, smiling back.

As they ate, the quiet settled around them, and Graham realized something he hadn’t expected—this silence, this peaceful, easy companionship, was everything he’d dreamed of and more. It was better than anything he had imagined when he thought about getting married. No chatter was needed, no constant talking. This was the kind of home Graham had always wanted—a home that was filled with contentment and understanding, with Ciarán by his side.

Chapter Six

Over the course of the following week, Graham took great care in acquainting Ciarán with every facet of life on the ranch. He showed him everything there was to know, starting with the full tour, though he was fairly certain Ciarán already knew where the well was, having visited it himself already. But still, Graham made sure to highlight all the key features: the barn where the animals were kept, the spacious pasture where the livestock roamed freely, Ginger’s stable—Graham’s old friend and the horse that had carried him through so many years of hard work—and the kitchen garden, which needed some attention. With two people now in the house, Graham realized it would have to be expanded. He’d need more crops to feed both of them, and maybe even enough to sell at market. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride as he showed Ciarán the long rows of tilled soil, the green buds sprouting from the earth, knowing that, in another season or two, the crops would grow into something they could harvest and use to sustain themselves. The land was still a bit untamed in places, but it was theirs. And the boundaries were well marked—he had carefully placed stone towers long ago, each one denoting the end of their property and the beginning of the open prairie beyond.

“All this?” Ciarán asked, his voice filled with a quiet awe as he touched one of the small towers of stones. He looked outover the land, the vast, empty prairie stretching out before them. “It’s a lot for just one person.”

Graham let out a low sigh, his thoughts turning inward. “Well, you’re here now,” he mumbled, glancing at Ciarán. The words came out more simply than he had intended, but when he looked into his husband’s eyes and saw the soft smile in return, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

It was true that Ciarán didn’t have any experience with life on a ranch. Graham had known that from the moment they’d met, but it didn’t matter. Ciarán was eager to learn, and Graham was more than happy to teach him. The young man’s hands weren’t used to working the land, and he didn’t know the first thing about livestock or farming, but he was quick to pick up the basics. The only plants Ciarán had ever tended to in his life had been small, decorative pots in his father’s house in Ireland. There was nothing like the earth under your nails, nothing like learning which soil was rich and which was poor, or how to spot the weeds creeping up among the plants. Graham knelt beside him, guiding his hand through the soil, showing him the differences in texture and smell. He taught Ciarán how to pluck the weeds, careful not to uproot the young plants along with them, how to spot the bugs that ate through their hard work, and which insects were beneficial to the crops and should be left alone.

But it was the animals that seemed to fascinate Ciarán most. The chickens were funny little creatures, and Ciarán enjoyed feeding them and watching them scurry around, clucking with delight. But it was the larger animals—the ones that Ciarán had only heard about in stories—that caused him a bit of nervousness. Horses, cows, and sheep had always been abstract to him, something he knew of only in theory. They were the creatures that gave people milk, butter, cheese, and wool, but now, seeing them face-to-face in the pasture, Ciarán wasn’t surewhat to expect. He hesitated, unsure whether to approach them or not.

“I’m a stranger to them,” Ciarán said softly, extending a tentative hand toward the nearest cow. He kept his voice gentle, hoping the animals would sense his calm. “Will they bite?”

Graham’s heart warmed at the sight before him. There was his husband, standing in the middle of the pasture, looking unsure but determined as the animals slowly made their way toward him, curiously sniffing at his hand. Ginger, the old mare, was one of the first to approach, nuzzling Ciarán’s arm with a soft snort. Ciarán’s nervousness melted away at the gentle touch of the horse. Graham chuckled under his breath. “They know when someone’s a good person or not. Don’t worry.”

“Well, I—oh!” Ciarán let out a surprised laugh as one of the lambs trotted over and gently headbutted him in the leg, eager for attention. He knelt down without a second thought, his face lighting up with delight as the little creature nuzzled against him. “What a sweet little thing!” Ciarán’s voice was full of awe, and he lovingly rubbed the lamb’s velvety ears and stroked its soft back.

The sight of his husband surrounded by the curious, friendly animals brought an unexpected joy to Graham’s heart. Ciarán’s beaming smile was enough to outshine the sun, and for a brief moment, Graham felt a deep sense of contentment. This was it. This was what he’d always wanted—someone to share the ranch with, someone who would walk alongside him through the daily work, someone who would be a partner, a companion.

Graham tipped his hat, his gaze shifting to the ground as he kicked at the dirt with his boots. He murmured, “Yeah, sure is.”

???

One morning, as they were finishing breakfast, cleaning the remains of scrambled eggs and buttered toast from their plates, Ciarán hesitated for a moment before asking, “Graham? Do you think that we might be able to go to town on Friday?”

Graham, who was scrubbing at the last crumbs on his plate, turned to him with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. That’s no problem. What do you need?” His voice was open and eager to help, though his curiosity piqued at what Ciarán might want to do in town.

Ciarán twisted the corner of his apron in his hands, an unconscious gesture that revealed his nerves. “I’d like to go to the post office,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “I wrote ‘thank you’ notes to everyone who gave us a wedding gift. And I—well, I want to mail a letter to my father. To tell him that I’ve arrived safely and that we’ve married.”

Graham’s heart gave a strange little twist at the mention of Ciarán’s father. He had heard about him from Ciarán’s glowing praise, from the way his husband spoke of him with such obvious admiration and love. But the truth was, Graham had never met the man, and the only connection he had to him was through Ciarán’s letters, which had been exchanged over the course of their courtship. In those letters, Ciarán had spoken of his family with a fondness that was palpable, and it was clear that his father had raised him with care, but Graham couldn’t help but wonder what Ciarán’s father thought of the arrangement. What would he think of his son marrying a man he had never met, after only a handful of letters? What kind of man would he imagine was marrying his son?

The thought made Graham feel uneasy, but he masked it quickly. He didn’t want Ciarán to see his uncertainty, not when the request was so simple, so sincere. “Of course we can do that,” Graham replied, his voice steady and warm. He placed his hand on Ciarán’s shoulder in an attempt to reassure him.“Your father needs to know you’re safe and settling in. And, uh, I think it’d be nice to go see Oscar and Mrs. Fournier, too. Thank them for coming to the wedding.” His mind flickered briefly to the thought of seeing the two older folks again, their kind faces welcoming them into the community. And besides, Oscar was always a wealth of information about farming. He had a mind for practical things, things Graham was still learning.

“Friday, then. It’s a plan,” Graham said with a finality that suggested he was more than happy to go along with whatever Ciarán needed. The idea of heading into town, seeing the faces of the people they had met during their short time here, was something Graham looked forward to. It would be a chance to reconnect with the world beyond the ranch, even if only for a few hours.

As the day passed, thoughts of the upcoming trip to town lingered in Graham’s mind. He knew it was important for Ciarán to send his letter. It was the kind of communication that would put his family at ease, show them that he was well and happy. It was more than a formality—it was a bridge between two lives, two families, coming together. And Graham couldn’t help but feel the weight of his own responsibility in that. He wasn’t just a husband, he was the person who had welcomed Ciarán to this new life, the one who would stand beside him through it all. He wanted Ciarán’s family to know he was taking care of him, that they were building a life together, one that was peaceful and fulfilling.

At the same time, Graham realized that he had his own tasks to take care of. They were quickly outgrowing the bed they had—the one Ciarán had helped make when he first arrived. The mattress was too small now, too cramped for two people, and with their growing life on the ranch, it only made sense to build something new, something bigger. He’d been meaning to buy the materials for it for a while, but now it felt urgent.With Ciarán’s presence, their little home was beginning to feel fuller, more like a proper home. It made sense that they would need more space, not just for themselves but for their future, for everything they planned to share together.

Later that day, as they worked side by side in the garden, Graham took a moment to glance over at his husband. Ciarán was focused, his brow furrowed slightly as he worked the soil, but the quiet determination in his eyes was something that gave Graham a sense of pride. The way he’d taken to the work, learning quickly, asking questions, offering suggestions—it was as if they had always been a team. And they had, even before the wedding, even before the letters had started to arrive. There was an unspoken bond between them now, something that didn’t need words to be understood. It was a trust, a quiet confidence in one another.

“You’ll feel better after sending that letter,” Graham said suddenly, breaking the silence. He wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but it felt right to voice it. “Your father will be glad to hear from you. And I’m sure he’ll be proud of you.”

Ciarán looked up from his work, his expression softening at the words. There was a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks, but he nodded. “I hope so. I want him to know I’m happy here, that I’m with someone who cares about me.” His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “I want him to know that I’m not alone.”

“You’re not alone, Ciarán,” Graham said firmly. “Not now, not ever. Not with me.” His words were simple, but they held all the weight of his feelings. He hoped Ciarán would understand that he meant more than just a statement about their marriage. He meant a promise about their life together—about all the things they would build, the memories they would make, the challenges they would face and overcome.

“I know,” Ciarán replied, his voice full of warmth. “Thank you, Graham.”

???

Ginger had grown accustomed to Graham’s weekly trips into town. The routine had settled into a comfortable rhythm, and the mare was always eager to leave the confines of the ranch, her tail flicking with anticipation as soon as the cart was ready. This morning, she was particularly impatient, whinnying and nuzzling Graham’s hair as he tightened the straps on the harness. She seemed to sense the excitement in the air—though Graham suspected it was more the promise of an outing than any understanding of the task ahead.

“Easy, girl,” Graham murmured, patting her neck, his fingers brushing against the soft, sleek coat. Ginger was a loyal companion, and despite her age, she was still as spry as ever. He had known her for years now, and there was an unspoken bond between them that ran deeper than mere ownership. She was part of the family, her steady presence as much a fixture of the ranch as the land itself.

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