A Fiery Bride for the Reserved Rancher [EBOOK]

Chapter 1<br>

Savannah Walton gripped the reins and turned Thunder to the left, easing him around the curve. As the galloping black stallion’s hooves raced across the hard ground, the wind whipped at her clothes and twisted her blond tresses into a tangled mess. Savannah’s cares were left behind. If only her time in Thunder’s saddle would do the same for her problems. <br>

Rounding another curve, she pulled on the reins to slow the stallion’s pace. As the horse’s speed reduced, Savannah’s disappointment crept higher. The red barn came into view all too soon, along with the knowledge that her stay in Georgia must come to an end.<br>
Sure, she had been born here, but the south could not remain her home. At one time, the mere thought would have brought regret and remorse. Now that she’d proven her ease on horseback and skill at firing a gun, men didn’t look her way for a suitable wife. Even the stable boy awaiting Thunder’s reins seemed to care less for the rider’s dismount than the horse.<br>

“Give him a good rubdown and dinner if you would, Ben,” she said, handing over her four-legged friend. <br>

“Of course, Miss Walton. I’ll take good care of him.”<br>

“Thank you.” She didn’t bother hiding the sadness in her voice. <br>

Left with the fading thrill of her ride, Savannah waited outside the red barn. Frank Elliot, the owner of the horse farm, walked toward her and tipped his hat.<br>

“Hope you enjoyed the ride, Savannah,” he said.<br>

“I did. Thunder is a fine horse, strong yet gentle.”<br>

“He is that.” Mr. Elliot nodded, shifting his weight from one worn, booted foot to the other. “And he always looks forward to your coming. I think you’re his favorite rider.”<br>

Savannah smiled, already missing her four-legged friend. She would have to come out before she left Georgia to say goodbye and give him some carrots.<br>

“Always take good care of him, Mr. Elliot. Please.” She knew he would but felt compelled to say it anyway.<br>

“Of course, Savannah. I love him almost as much as you do.” The aging farm owner had seen her and Thunder tearing across the soil more times than she could count. “I’m using the buckboard to head into town, so I can offer you a ride if you like.”<br>

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” Sensing his impatience reminded her of her father. “Although when I get back, father will probably yell at me for being late.”<br>

“Oh, no.” Mr. Elliot motioned for her to follow him as he continued, “Your father was a pretty good horseman in his day. He shouldn’t get angry.”<br>

You don’t know my father as well as you think you do, Savannah thought. <br>

When they were beside the buckboard, Mr. Elliot took her hand and helped her into the seat. Proving spry for his age, he quickly climbed up and flogged the reins. The two brown-and-white geldings trotted down the road. Deep in thought, her forehead wrinkled in a frown as the buggy rolled toward town. At first, she had resisted the idea of becoming a mail-order bride. Whispered words here and there and disparaging looks had made her rethink her bleak future. <br>

Millersville, a dead town, held no young men willing to take on an independent wife. Frankly, there wasn’t a man inside the town limits that she liked, anyway. And to be honest, no young man within twenty miles of the town wanted to court her, either. <br>

Her ability to ride faster and shoot better than most men had crushed her chances. When she returned home, she was going to diligently read the Mail-Order Brides section of the Matrimonial Times, the newspaper devoted to helping women find a match to a potential husband.<br>

Her target location, she decided, would be the West, a place of adventure and excitement. Reading dime novels had always given her a sense of wonder and amusement, so why not head to the land beyond the Mississippi? The lurid tales of gunfights and Indians and outlaws, although they were fiction, fired her fascination.
Leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes, she imagined opening them again in Colorado, Oregon or California. The jarring buggy ride became a thrilling race across new soil with a powerful horse responding in kind to her every move. And then it all stopped.<br>

“Savannah, you’re home,” Eliot said.
She shook her adventure from her head and looked at her two-story yellow house with a lantern glowing in the living room. <br>

“Thank you, Mr. Eliot,” poured from her on a heavy sigh.
Every step toward the door strengthened her resolve to venture to the West. Before she could even reach for the door knob, her father yanked the door open and scowled at her. <br>

“Savannah, you’re late. As usual. What do you have to say for yourself?”<br>

“I apologize, father.” Her accepting tone quirked one of his unruly eyebrows. “Yes, I am late. I was riding Thunder, and we were having such good fun, that I lost track of time. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to make you and mama worry.”<br>

Her father, a large man with a bushy mustache and eyebrows to match, looked as if he had been struck by lightning. His already large black eyes widened. Astonishment replaced his anger as he looked past Savannah, maybe seeking the reason for her contrition somewhere in the dark. <br>

“Well…. we were worried,” he blustered a bit, then calmly stated, “but I understand. I’m glad you and Thunder had a good time.”<br>

She walked inside, lighter in step now that she had accepted her fate. “Father, the ride gave me time to think. You know that I have been considering my future, like becoming a mail-order bride. I’ve thought long and hard about my resistance to that path. Now I think it’s for the best.” <br>

His shocked moment of silence was expected after the many arguments they’d had. “I think that is best, Savannah.” Neither anger nor kindness entered his tone. “Frankly, you seem to have outgrown this town. For the sake of your happiness, your journey should include possibilities to the West.” He retrieved his pipe from a pocket and motioned further inside the house. “Now go on and eat your supper.” <br>

Savannah gladly ate while telling her mother of her decision. Directly after her last bite was swallowed, she accepted her mother’s embrace and headed off to read the Matrimonial Times by the light of her lantern. <br>
Although she had three sisters, all married, none of them were close. Perhaps her father had desired a son when she was born, so he had taught her to ride and shoot. She didn’t blame him for her independence, though. She sighed and opened the paper. The first letter that she glanced was from a man in Montana. She shook her head. Montana was cold. Ice cold. Only if she was desperate would she write a return letter to a man in Montana.<br>

“Then again, I am desperate,” she said with a trace of humor in her voice. “But I’m still not going to Montana.”<br>

She knocked out letters from Wyoming, which was icy cold, too. And she ignored Arizona for being just as hot as Georgia in the summer and no fit place to be.<br>
Forty minutes later, she had narrowed her choices down to three letters. Her top choice was from a rancher in Easter Springs, located about a hundred miles northwest of Denver. The writer, a man named Ethan Waters, said he owned a ranch seven miles outside of town. <br>
What particularly interested her was that Mr. Waters said his place was a cattle ranch, and he also had five horses. He mentioned that he would teach his new wife to ride. Of course, Savannah knew how to ride and five horses should give her a suitable choice.<br>

A knock sounded on her door, so she called out, “Come in.” <br>
Her favorite aunt and relative, Harriet, opened the door. “Mind if I visit?”<br>

“Of course not.” Savannah patted the bed beside her. “Sit on the bed. By the way, I’m looking through the ads for mail-order brides like you suggested.”<br>
Harriet nodded her head and her voice carried sadness. “Savannah, I love you and my heart will ache when you leave, but this is best for you. You will get a second chance, a new life in the West and, I think, it will be a good life.”<br>

“You’re right, Auntie. There’s no future here, and like you’ve been saying, I do stand out, especially when in Millersville.” She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “It’s lonely here when I don’t even get along with other girls.”<br>

“I understand. But the West will welcome you. Maybe you will be another Annie Oakley or Calamity Jane.”<br>
Savannah smiled. “Once, I thought I was odd, but then I read about Calamity and Annie. I loved them so much! They were like me, riding and shooting with the best of men. They seemed very happy too, which gave me hope.” <br>

“Yes, the West does sound like the place for you, honey.” She picked up the girl’s brush and began to work the tangles out of her hair. “And when you get out there, you write and let me know where you are. Your old auntie might want to visit. I’ve never even been to the Mississippi River, much less anything past there.”<br>

Savannah reached over and grabbed her aunt’s hand, stopping the brush’s motion for a moment to say, “You bet I will write. And you write back, too.”<br>

“I will.” Her aunt fondly stroked a finger over Savannah’s cheek before continuing to brush her hair. “Whoever you pick will think an angel dropped down from Heaven for them.”<br>

“And I’ll tell my future husband that I want a room for my auntie. I’m going to show her what the West is like.” She smiled down at the newspaper, adding, “Look at this. I think I’m going to write this man back.”<br>

She showed her aunt the letter by Mr. Waters. Harriet read it slowly, then nodded.<br>

“Yes, I think Mr. Waters is a good prospect.”
Savannah sighed as her aunt continued brushing her hair. For a moment, tears formed in her eyes. <br>

“I know I don’t belong here, but this is a big decision. If Mr. Waters accepts, I’ll be going a thousand miles from what I call a home with no friends or family there.” She shook her head. “I like to think of myself as a courageous woman but going… I have no one to turn to.” <br>

Then a little choked laughter slipped out. “Of course, I don’t really have any female friends here, and all the men want a more refined and polite lady.”<br>

“You are a bit untamed, Savannah, but you have beauty on your side. Just don’t try to boss your new husband around. He might not like it.” <br>

“I’ll be proper and ladylike,” she promised.<br>

Her aunt laughed. “Be proper and ladylike for as long as you can. I love you, honey, but make sure your potential husband is an easy-going gentleman. A man who can tolerate a lot.”<br>

Savannah put her hands on her hips and gave her aunt an exasperated smile.<br>

“I’m not that bad, Auntie. I’ve seen a few of the men stare in my direction.”<br>

“You are a fine-looking woman, no doubt. But for a husband, you need a man with a kind and understanding heart.”<br>

Savannah held up the paper and tapped the advertisement with her finger. “Mr. Waters says right here he doesn’t have a temper, that he’s kind and attends the Community Church out there in Easter Wells. And said the church has a real good minister.” She tapped a finger on her chin as her brow wrinkled. “You think all these guys tell the truth in their letters?”<br>

“There’s one easy way to find out.”<br>

“What’s that?” Savannah’s gaze slid sideways to her aunt.<br>

“Ask him for money for the trip. If he gives it to you, he might be honest.”<br>

Savannah laughed. “Since I have very little money of my own, maybe I will do that.” She reached in the drawer and brought out a quill. “But I am definitely going to ask about the horses. I can’t imagine not being able to ride. A man with five horses should make a good husband.” She sighed. “At least I hope so.”<br>