Abigail thought a moment, then pursed her lips.
“Did you come to that conclusion when you placed your advertisement for a mail order bride?” she queried, adding as she inclined her head sharp in his direction, “Or at the moment that you saw me step out of the stagecoach?”
She froze as the man before her whipped his ivory cowboy hat clear off his head, holding it reverent over his heart as he said, “Oh no Ma’am, please don’t take offense at what I said.” He paused here, adding as he returned his hat to its place on his head and let loose with a frustrated sigh, “Truth be told I didn’t even place that blasted ad. My brother placed it, with the intention of finding me a new bride—totally ignoring the fact that all I need is an able assistant here on the ranch. I already had my wife, the love of my life, and was on the verge of fatherin’ the child that completed our family. Then, in a heartbeat, they were both gone.”
With these words, he took the garden hoe clutched in his sturdy grasp and threw it recklessly to the ground beneath him.
“For all my brother’s annoyin’ meddlin’, I have assured him that I am in no need of a replacement bride,” he insisted, planting his hands firm on his hips as he added, “I want a professional arrangement here, nothing more.”
His eyes flew wide as his guest met these words with a loud, joyful whoop; one that came accompanied by a spirited Texas two-step that would look right at home at a barn dance.
“Well Ma’am, I’m most pleased that you’re taking this news so well,” he muttered, adding as he pinned her with a sideways glance, “Did you come to that conclusion when you answered my advertisement for a mail order bride? Or at the moment that you saw me here working in the fields?”
Coming to an abrupt halt as her rawhide boots skidded in the dirt below her, Abigail let loose with a hearty chortle as she considered this question.
“Oh don’t be ridiculous Gent,” she admonished her host, adding as she pointed a most accusing finger straight in his direction, “You likely qualify as the most ridiculously handsome gent I’ve ever seen. I reckon that your degree of preposterous male beauty probably should be illegal, in point of fact. And most any woman would be more than eager to hogtie you into submission and drag you headfirst before the nearest justice of the peace.”
Blinking with surprise as he considered these words, Cal let loose with a robust chuckle as he shifted his boots in the grass beneath him.
“Well you sure do have a way with words Miss,” he praised her finally, adding in a reflective tone, “especially to the ears of a man who hasn’t laughed in a mighty long time.”
Abigail nodded.
“Oh, I hear ya. Back at home on the Diamond T Ranch, my folks and I used to laugh the day away. Then when Pa passed, it was all I could do to muster a smile,” she released these words on a tired sigh, adding as she graced her host with a warm, knowing smile, “I have the distinct feeling, Gent, that you and I are two of a kind. One day we’re just moseying through the process of working our own land and living our dreams. Then that pesky ol’ thing called life happened along and threw some big ol’ cow pies in our path.”
Guffawing outright in response to her words, Cal stepped forward to offer the lady his hand.
“At this point Ma’am, I don’t give a lick if you lack one bit of experience in working the land,” he told her, adding as he inclined his head in her direction, “You are hired.”
Two weeks after taking on an additional hired hand at his ranch, Cal Hopkins was pleased to see that she did indeed know how to work the land. This lady Abigail, in fact, proved herself an expert on all things horticultural, standing tall and proud in rows of roses and making them grow and bloom more beautifully than ever; also tending his more conventional crops of corn and cotton, increasing the productivity of his farm while his second career as a law enforcement officer continued to thrive.
Although not a conventional beauty like his Elsa, he loved the way that her bright blue eyes came alight whenever she inspected a radiant rose; and the lovely smile that she displayed whenever she favored him with one of her hilarious jokes.
“I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much in my life,” he mused at one point, looking on with keen amusement as she charmed him with an impression of an untalented chorus girl who gets her high kicking feet caught up in her voluminous petticoats after sipping on what was perhaps one too many tempered sarsaparillas. “Not to mention think—this gal is probably the smartest I’ve met.”
When Cal came home at night, he always looked forward to the home cooked meals that Abigail prepared for him; feasts that featured corn and potatoes grown on his own ranch, along with juicy steaks and buttermilk biscuits coated with layers of fresh churned butter.