I've been telling him that for years. Maybe he'll listen to a pretty face. Bethany blushed at the compliment, and Yates found himself charmed by her reaction. In the short time she'd been at the Lazy K, he discovered she was well educated, articulate, and possessed a quiet determination that he admired. She spoke intelligently on a range of subjects, from literature to current events, and listened with genuine interest when he discussed the ranch operations.
After lunch, true to her word, Bethany began organizing the bookshelf in the small study that Yates rarely used. He found excuses to check on her throughout the afternoon, bringing her tea or simply asking if she needed anything. "You have an impressive collection," she commented during one such visit, holding a volume of Emerson's essays. "I wouldn't have expected to find such a library on a cattle ranch. My mother was a great reader, Yates explained.
She insisted on bringing as many books as possible when we came west. She believed civilization followed literature. She sounds like a remarkable woman. She was. She died of fever my first year here.
My father passed a few years before that during the war. Sympathy softened Bethy's features. I'm sorry. It's hard to lose parents no matter our age. It is.
He agreed. You mentioned yours past last year. She nodded, replacing the Emerson on the shelf within weeks of each other. My father first, then my mother. They left some debts, which is why I had to leave my teaching position.
The school was understanding, but they couldn't continue my employment once the creditors took our home. The matter-of-fact way she described such devastating losses impressed Yates. And that's when you began corresponding with your fiance. James had placed an advertisement in a Boston newspaper. A businessman seeking a well-educated wife willing to relocate to California.
She smiled Riley. It sounds terribly unromantic, doesn't it? But his letters were kind and intelligent. He offered security when I had none. Yates frowned slightly.
But you've never met him. No, we exchanged photographs, but as I mentioned, mine was lost in the robbery. She sighed. I should really send that telegram soon. He'll be expecting me in San Francisco by the end of the month.
We can ride into town tomorrow if you feel up to it, Yates offered, though the thought of helping her contact the man who would take her away from the lazy K gave him no pleasure. Thank you. I should also check on the Whitfields while we're there. That evening, as they sat on the porch watching the sunset paint the desert in shades of gold and crimson, Yates found himself more at ease in Bethy's company than he could remember being with anyone in years. There was something about her quiet strength and intelligence that resonated with him.
It's beautiful here, she said softly, her gaze on the distant mountains, so different from Boston. There's a wildness to it, but also a peacefulness. That's what drew me to this land, Yates admitted. After the war, I couldn't settle back into Kentucky society. Too many memories, too many ghosts.
Out here, there's room to breathe to start fresh. I can understand that appeal, she replied. Though I imagine it was difficult establishing a ranch from nothing. The hardest thing I've ever done, he agreed. The first few years were brutal drought, rustlers, conflicts with neighboring ranchers.