Chapter One

“Oh, Cat! Can you believe it? Only four more months until I become Mrs. George Staton III!”

It was the same conversation Catherine Brings had gone through with her employer’s daughter every morning, afternoon, and evening for the past seven months. The twenty-four-year-old, head housemaid responded with a warm, caring smile. “No, milady. It seems truly unbelievable that your marriage is almost here.”

Cat had started working officially for the Millers at the age of sixteen after her mother, Elaina Brings, had died unexpectedly. Elaina had been a faithful employee of the Millers for nine years as the housekeeper of Braddon Park in Richmond, Virginia. After Elaina’s death, the Millers took pity on Cat and hired her on as a kitchen maid.

“And you are truly blessed to have found such a perfect, wonderful man,” Cat added.

Margret drifted her eyes up to the tall bedroom ceiling. “Cat! George truly is a perfect, wonderful man. I have never loved another as I love my betrothed. He is handsome and charming and beautifully rich. He’s learning his grandfather’s business to take it over himself in a year!” Margret rose from her seat on the chaise lounge and spun in a circle, sending her satin skirts swirling about her. “Can you just picture it, Cat? Dinners and dancing and social events with carriages and trips overseas and our very own house on his family’s land! Oh! What a fantastic life I’m going to have!”

Margret spun herself into exhaustion as she flopped down on the chaise lounge, throwing her arm over her pale face. “Enough of whatever you are doing over there, Cat. Come sit and read me the latest gossip in the Richmond Whig.”

Cat had known Margret Miller nearly her entire life. Being six years older, Cat considered Margret as something like a younger sister. Of course, social status could never allow for such a personal connection, but Cat knew as much about Margret as Margret knew about herself, and possibly more.

“Cat! Did you hear me? I’m eager to know who the talk of the town is this month. I cannot go to Elizabeth’s party being the only one without any knowledge of what’s happening.” Margret’s golden curls bounced as she furrowed her brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Elizabeth thinks she knows everything in this town. She thinks every man wants her and every woman wants to be her.” She shook her head, glaring down at her thumbs twiddling in her lap. “But not this woman. And not my man.”

Sensing Margret’s melancholy would soon lead into one of her usual self-pity fits, Cat set down her sewing and took her place on the floor in front of the chaise. Taking the magazine from the side table, Cat began to peruse with pretended interest.

“Alright, let’s see here. Ah, yes. First things first. The governor has approved expansion for farmers and cattle ranchers who wish to extend their properties.” Cat lifted her eyebrows. She had always been interested in the rural side of life. Her mother used to tell her stories of how father had worked day and night on the Brings family land to make it productive and successful.

Cat had always dreamed about how things might have been for their little family if her father had not died when she was only three.

Margret’s drawn voice pulled Cat from her daydream. “Cat, how many times must I tell you?” Glancing up, Cat caught sight of Margret waving her hand in the air. “None of that interests me. None of that will benefit me around the dinner table with Elizabeth and her guests. Read me something that actually makes a difference in conversation.”

Cat took a steadying breath, leafing through the magazine. “Isn’t this something?” Cat pulled the periodical closer to her face as she skimmed the writing across the page.

“What! What is it, Cat? Tell me, tell me!” Margret sat up.

“Here’s an ad for a mail-order bride. A rancher in Montana is looking for a wife….”

Margret’s loud cackle jerked Cat from her reading. “Oh, how wretched! Can you imagine someone responding to such a request? The woman would have to be mad with desperation to consider giving her life away to a man she never met clear across the country!” Margaret said. Cat sat perfectly still and silent. “Besides, he’s most likely old and terribly unattractive. I’m so lucky to have George. I don’t have to worry a single moment about dealing with such a situation as answering an advertisement for someone to fall in love with me.”

Though she did not show it, Cat struggled to keep her thoughts in check. Listening to Margret made the heat start to rise up her neck. She could feel her heart pound quickly.

“Cat! Don’t tell me you think the advertisement has some worth. I thought you a much smarter person than to fall for such absurdity.”

Realizing her thoughts were beginning to show, Catherine adjusted her brow and gave her usual sweet smile. “Don’t be silly, milady. I’ll never be one to marry. I have you to look after, and then, once you leave for Thornton Hall, I’ll be here tending to your family’s needs as I always have, just like my mother before me.”

Margret rose from her seat and stared down at her with a look of pity. “You and your mother have always been so good to me and my family. You truly are where you belong, Cat. I hope you never leave us.”

Cat continued with her smile. “Thank you, Lady Margret. I appreciate your kind words.” Knowing Margret spoke only out of a selfish desire for herself and her own household, Cat did her best to not let the mundanity of being “where she belonged” bring her spirits down.

“I think I’ll take a rest before supper, Cat. Can you please let Mother know? I don’t feel like traipsing downstairs only to climb them once more for my sleep.”

Cat rose to her feet, tucking the magazine in her cotton skirt pocket. “Shall I turn your bed down for you?”

Margret waved her hand in the air dismissively as she flopped onto her large canopy bed. “No need, Cat. Just do as I say, so I don’t have to talk to Mother.”

Cat nodded her head and excused herself from the room, closing the large oak door behind her. Leaning up against it, Cat closed her eyes and let out a long, deep breath.

Father God, please help my hurting heart. Help me to hold my tongue and keep a positive attitude.

With that, Cat made her way to the drawing-room to relay Margret’s message to the lady of the house.

As she descended the stairs, Cat could not help but clamp her hand on the magazine in her pocket. Her mind drifted back to the advertisement that had caught her eye. The idea of finding someone she could fall in love with brought hope to her suddenly weary soul. She had longed to have a love of her own ever since her mother read her the story of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet.

“Cat?” A familiar, elderly voice broke into Cat’s memories. Glancing across the foyer, Cat’s gaze landed on the matriarch of the estate.

“Good afternoon, Lady Miller.” Cat slipped her hand from her skirt pocket and crossed her arms at her waist.

“Is everything alright, dear? You look a little flushed.” Corliss Miller sashayed toward Cat. “You were standing there as if you were lost in deep thought.”

Cat quickly adjusted her facial features to mask her true feelings. “Forgive me, milady. I did not see you. Yes, everything is just fine. In fact, I came down to let you know Lady Margret won’t be joining you for tea this afternoon.”

Corliss lifted her delicate fingers to the chest area of her petite frame. “Oh, my heavens! Is she alright? I hope she isn’t coming down with something.”

Cat smiled at her mistress. “There’s no reason to worry, milady. Lady Margret simply needed to rest her eyes. She told me to tell you she will be down for supper this evening.”

Cat had always been grateful to Corliss Miller. Lady Miller had been the one to promote Cat to head housemaid, which included the charge of caring for the only daughter of the Miller family.

Corliss patted her graying, auburn hair, causing some loose tendrils to fall from their tight bun at the nape of her neck. “Hmm. I always worry when she strays from our daily routine. But I suppose you know her better than any of us.” The lady of the house let out a deep sigh before turning to the drawing-room behind her. “I’ll be reading in the drawing-room until teatime.”

Catherine remained steady and sure as she replied, “Linny will bring in your tray momentarily, Lady Miller.”

Corliss waved her hand in the air with gratitude and smiled over her thin shoulder. “Thank you, my dear. I have no doubt you will keep everything in line. You’re becoming more and more like your mother every day.”

Catherine’s breath caught in her chest, and her eyes stung from happy tears. It was one of the kindest comments anyone had ever made about her. And it meant even more to have them come from the very lips of the woman who knew both Elaina and Cat. Cat cherished her mother and missed her greatly, and she had come to cherish Corliss Miller in a motherly way as well.

Though she would never truly experience the mother-daughter relationship from the days of her past, Cat cherished these small moments as treasures for her lonely heart.

***

A few weeks had passed since Cat’s discovery in the Richmond Whig. She did not have many chances to dwell on the daydreams the advertisement had stirred up in her. Usually, she could count on some alone time when she was taking care of the wash or lending a hand in the kitchen or mending Margret’s clothing in the evening, but after a surprising announcement from Linny that she was leaving service to get married, Cat suddenly added more duties to her regular responsibilities. On top of tending to the guest rooms and the family rooms and fulfilling the duties assigned by Mrs. Holmes, the housekeeper, Cat continued her responsibilities of caring for Margret Anastasia.

“Cat! Cat!” the panicked and irritated voice of Margret screeched across the second-story floor of Braddon Park. “Cat! For goodness sake, where are you girl? Cat!”

Cat bounded up the steps of the grand staircase with her long legs. She grabbed a hand to her cap to keep it from slipping from her pinned-up hair. Cat had been taking a much-needed break at the servant’s table that had turned into a slouching slumber in her seat, when she had been awakened by the ring of the servant’s bell connected to Margret’s pull cord in her room. Cat had not planned on losing track of time, but with the new duties and the constant bending to Margret’s every beck and call, Cat felt she would never catch up.

Reaching the mezzanine, Cat quickly adjusted her apron before fixing a smile on her face. “I’m here, milady. Forgive my absence.”

Margret threw her lanky arms in the air, her voice rising to a high-pitched squeal. “Just where have you been, Cat? I’ve been ringing for you for nearly a fortnight. I cannot believe you forced me to cry out for you. You know father detests a woman raising her voice in the home, especially a lady-in-waiting such as myself. He says if George ever heard such a sound coming from my mouth, he’d break our betrothal off in an instant.”

Cat resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Margret Anastasia’s dramatics. She knew Margret’s outburst was simply a cry for attention.

Margret was a selfish girl. And, deep down in Cat’s heart, she knew she would always be one, no matter the situation of others around her.

“Again, Lady Margret, I apologize for my tardiness. I lost track of time in the servants’ kitchen working on the mending and the washing.”

Margret spun around, sending her royal blue, satin skirts into a swishing motion. “Excuses! Nothing but excuses from you, Cat. That’s all I have been hearing for the past week.” Margret’s crisp blue eyes peered over her thin shoulder and narrowed at Cat in a serpent-like manner. “You do know, Cat. I could call for father right this instant and tell him to fire you.”

A heat of nervous fear rushed over Cat, and she ducked her head. “Yes, milady.”

Margret turned her focus out the large, picture window and waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind, Cat. I don’t need you here with me after all. I’d rather be alone now.”

Cat nodded as she turned to leave. Reaching the door, she heard Margret’s final warning. “Don’t forget what I said about father, Cat. He would fire you without question.”

Cat closed the door behind her as her mind raced. I must be careful. I wouldn’t know what to do if I was ever fired. I have no place to go. No family. No home. Nothing to my name.

Chapter Two

“The sun’s goin’ down, Steve. Got to be gettin’ home to the wife,” said the wrangler from his horse to the young rancher kneeling beside the fence line. “Eh! Some of us got folks waiting on us, here.”

Without turning his head, twenty-nine-year-old rancher, Steve Priddy, waved his free hand in the air, gripping the nearly repaired barbed wire fence.

“Ehyep.”

“You know, you got a few waiting on ya, too,” the man added.

“Thanks for your help, Lou. See ya in a few days.” Steve was aware of what he had waiting for him at home. He did not need an old friend reminding him every time he worked past sundown.

The wrangler tipped his hat before turning the reins. “I’ll be seein’ ya, Steve. I’ll send Jenny over sometime this week to help out Honey.”

Steve twisted on the wire with one last frustrated motion        before rising to his feet. “My sister is doing just fine. Jenny can           just stay at home. I’m sure there’s plenty to do around your place.             No          sense in coming to the ranch. Honey’s got it all cared for.”

Steve kept his gaze strong and hard at Lou. It was not that he didn’t appreciate the kindness of Lou and his wife. Steve just did not feel any need for anyone to waste their time on his family. They were fine. They were doing just fine.

“Alright, Steve. All right.” Lou turned his horse and headed down the road.

Steve sauntered to his trusty steed that was waiting at the large oak tree. The large gelding glared at him.

“Quit looking at me like that, Branson. I’m sorry it’s so late. I’m finally ready to go.” Steve pulled a canteen from his leather saddlebag and took a long swig of water. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, slipping his empty canteen back into the bag.

He took a last look around before getting up into the saddle. He owned the largest herd of cattle within three counties. The Lord had been good to him over the years, but it didn’t make up for all He’d taken from Steve.

A few miles of travel later, Steve reached the moonlit two-story log cabin that sat on his land. Soft, candlelight burned in the main floor windows revealing two figures sitting side by side at a table.

“I told her to stop waiting for me to eat,” Steve grumbled under his breath. The air had turned colder while he rode. Cursing himself for not grabbing his thick coat, he dug his heels into Branson’s flanks. “C’mon boy. I’ll get you some fresh hay before turning in myself.”

After finishing in the stables, Steve pulled the large double doors closed and marched heavily toward the wrap-around porch. A hard breeze whipped through the air, and Steve quickened his pace. With his head lowered, he barreled up the steps and shoved open the large front door.

“Dada! Dada!” Steve’s young son smiled up at him from his seat at the table. “Home! Home!”

Steve closed the door behind him and tossed his hat onto the hook on the wall. As he moved to the fireplace, where a warm fire crackled, his son continued to jabber excitedly from his seat at the table.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to acknowledge your son who is just excited to see you,” said a beautiful, blonde-haired young woman, as she tore a piece of bread from the slice on her plate.

“Don’t start, Honey, please. It’s been a long day, and I’m really tired.” Steve hunched on the edge of his rocking chair that had been pulled close to the fire. “I already got an earful from Lou. I’d rather not have you coming at me too, little sister.”

The boy’s voice carried through the chilled cabin as Steve’s sister carried on with her lecture. “Knowing Lou, it was probably an earful you needed to hear.” Honey turned and smiled at her nephew beside her. “Isn’t that right, Tommy? Yes. Yes. You are a sweet boy.”

Steve could not take the noise any longer. “Honey! Just take     Tommy to bed! It’s way past his bedtime!”

“I’m still eating, Steve,” she said. Honey always seemed to find her stubborn streak when it annoyed Steve the most.

“I told you that you don’t need to wait for me to get home to start eating. You never know when I’m gonna be home.”

“But we want to wait for you, big brother. We enjoy your company. When I’m done eating, I’ll take Tommy and put him to bed.”

Steve stood up with a sigh. “Why must you always go against everything I tell you to do?”

Honey glanced up from her plate and leveled a strong gaze at her tall brother. “I don’t go against everything, Steve. I listen to you practically every day, but when you get in one of your moods, I decide to do what’s best for this family instead of what’s best for you and you alone.”

Steve crossed his arms over his burly chest. “One of my moods?”

Honey dabbed her mouth with her napkin and set it on the table beside her empty plate. “One of your moods, Steve. Like the mood you are in right this minute. You get like this when things aren’t going your way or when something happens you don’t particularly agree with.”

Steve stared long and hard at his sister. Even though she knew how to stir up his fire when he got complacent, and cool his annoyance when it flared up, Honey needed to learn her place. She was still young and had so much to learn about life and caring for a home.

“Give your dada a hug and a kiss goodnight, Tommy. It’s time to go to bed.”

Steve’s two-year-old son wobbled on his chubby, little legs across the cold, planked floor to Steve.

“Nite nite, dada.” Tommy waved his arms up in the air.

Steve took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders momentarily to show his son some love. “Goodnight, Tommy. Sleep well.” Steve lowered down to one knee and wrapped his arms around the little strawberry-blonde-haired boy. “Now go on with Aunt Honey.”

“I love you, dada.”

Steve patted Tommy’s head as he turned him toward the staircase where Honey stood waiting with open arms.

“C’mon, sweet boy. Let’s get you into bed.”

Tommy ran over and jumped into her arms. Steve watched as the two interacted with complete love and affection. A slight twinge pinched at his heart. He turned around and marched back over to his rocking chair to get more heat to warm his cold body.

What’s wrong with me? He’s my son. My only child. I’m truly blessed to have such a sweet angel for a son. Steve listened as Honey prepared Tommy for bed. He dropped his head in his hands. Why does he have to remind me so much of her? It hurts so bad. I miss her so much!

Cora Ellen Priddy had been unlike any woman Steve had ever known. She was kind and selfless and gave everything she had to make sure everyone had everything they needed. Cora made sure they knew they were loved and cared for. She knew how to cook and clean and sew and take care of a homestead without complaint or disgust. Cora was the greatest woman Steve had ever known, and he had loved her with every fiber of his being.

And when Cora left the earth giving birth to their son, Thomas James Priddy, Steve’s soul had left with her. He couldn’t believe the Lord would give him such a wonderful woman, only to take her so quickly from him. They still had so many years left to share, so many children to create, so many memories to make their own.

It was why his young sister had moved into the large cabin. Steve had built the house with his own two hands. He had built it for Cora. Every inch was exactly how she had wanted it to be. But when she left him with a newborn son, Steve had lost more than the sense of being a husband. He had lost all sense of being a father.

A clatter in the small kitchen jerked Steve from his memories.

“You know, it’s okay to tell your son you love him. There’s nothing wrong with letting your only child know you actually care.”

Steve’s shoulders tensed, and his jaw clenched. He stared into the flames.

“I don’t think Cora would be happy with the father you’ve turned out to be. I doubt she would want you to treat Tommy with such cold, unfeeling emotions. I…”

Steve jumped up from his chair, baring his teeth at his sister.  “Cora’s not here, Honey! She hasn’t been here for two years!”

Honey continued to clear the table. “No, she’s not, Steve. And yes, she hasn’t been. I thought you would have realized it by now.”

“Realized what, Honey? That I have no wife? That the woman I loved is gone and never coming back? That when I look at my son all I see is Cora!” Steve felt his heart pounding in his chest. He felt his legs getting weaker by the second.

“Yes, Steve. Our Cora is gone. But life is still going. It’s time you start letting the past go and start moving toward your future. Or at least start living in the present.”

Steve backed himself up to the large chair and dropped his heavy body down, holding his head in his hands.

“There’s so much more living you need to do, big brother. Tommy is growing up every day. He wants to spend time with you. He wants to learn from you. He wants to love you.”

Steve shook his head. “Stop, Honey. Just stop.”

Honey wiped her hands on her apron, crossed over the floor, and lowered to her knees beside him. “It’s time to start loving again Steve. It’s time to start living again.”

Steve could not listen to her any longer. He had endured a long, hard day of repairing fences. He had listened to his old friend lecture about staying away from his family. He had seen his young son. Even if he was grateful for everything Honey did for the family, she grated on his patience at the end of the day. She was too young to understand his pain.

Without another word, Steve pushed up from the chair and headed for his bedroom behind the staircase.

“Where are you going?” Honey’s voice called out from the floor.

Steve did not miss a stride. “I’m going to bed.”

“But we’re not done talking.”

“We are for tonight, Honey.” Steve could hear his sister’s protest, but he did not let it stop him. He wanted the sanctuary of his bedroom. He wanted the quiet of sleep.

The next morning, he found Honey standing over the large, four-burner wood stove attempting her hand at breakfast. Her heart was as big as the Montana sky, but Honey’s knowledge of housekeeping and tending to a family was spare to say the least.

“I told you there’s no need for making big meals anymore,” Steve grumbled out as he walked past her to grab a cup hanging from a nail in the wall.

“Well, good morning to you, too. It doesn’t hurt to at least try. I know I’m not the best, but at least I’m willing to change things around here.”

Steve poured himself a cup of hot, black coffee. He needed as much fuel to get through the day as possible. “Please, don’t start this again, Honey. Let me get this down before you come at me.” Steve walked slowly to his chair at the table and slid into the seat.

“I’m not starting, big brother. I’m continuing. You didn’t let me finish our conversation last night.” Honey set down a basket of day-old biscuits in the middle of the table. She poured her own cup of coffee and joined her brother at the table. “Here.” She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.

After cringing from his bitter sip of coffee, Steve glanced at the parchment. “What’s this?”

“It’s an advertisement,” she said.

“What kind of advertisement?”

Honey shrugged her shoulders. “It’s an advertisement to get you a new wife.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Honey! I don’t need a new wife. And, if I did, I wouldn’t advertise for one!”

Honey responded calmly. “Yes, you do. And there’s nothing wrong with seeking a wife through the post.”

Steve jumped up from his seat. “Don’t send that advertisement out. Do you understand me?”

Honey sipped her coffee.

“Honey! I’m serious! Don’t send it! I don’t need a wife! I don’t want a wife!”

Steve grabbed his cup and a handful of biscuits and turned.

“Where are you going, Steve?”

“I’ll eat these in the tack room,” he said.

He shrugged into his coat, slammed his hat on his head, and stomped out the front door into the brisk Montana morning air with his small breakfast in hand.

God, please help me to have a better attitude today. Help me to find the patience I so desperately need. 

Steve tilted his head to the sky. “Help me, God! Somehow. Some way. Just please, help me!”

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