Triple K ranch - Texas - 1880’s

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From as far back as Clair Wainright could remember, Jacob Kirby’s Triple K ranch had been home. Pa had been foreman and she and Ma helped Jacob’s wife, Estelle in the house. They did most of the work, with Estelle issuing orders all the time, but doing little.

After Pa died, Jacob visited on a regular basis. Randy always accompanied his father, and he would take her for walks when the weather was fine, or they would play checkers in the covered in section of the back porch. She liked Randy, but Aaron Kirby was the one she loved. He never came over with his father and the two men often argued.

She closed her eyes and thought of the elder son, Aaron, the man she hoped to marry. He always said he was waiting for her to grow up. She ran her fingers across her lips where he had kissed her last night. Excitement swirled in the pit of her stomach every time she thought about it. If he hadn’t pulled back, she would have been his in every sense of the word. She was almost eighteen, old enough to wed.

There was a party for Marylou Sullivan at a neighboring ranch and she was going. Randy, the younger Kirby son had invited her. Ma had altered a blue taffeta gown Estelle had cast off a few months ago. Well, it was Aaron who had said she might like it after he rescued it before his stepmother got rid of it. Horrible old witch preferred to throw it away rather than give it to her.

Stop dithering or you’ll be late for your first ever grown up party. Well, her first ever party, really.

Claire bathed in the tin hip bath in the kitchen in front of the fire. Because she was only short, she could almost stretch out fully. Earlier in the day Ma had washed her brown hair in lavender water and she was pleased with how soft it felt, and the way the copper strands were highlighted.

Once she was dressed, ready and waiting for Randy to collect her in the buckboard, she preened herself in front of the mirror. The pale blue gown fit perfectly and Ma had trimmed the neckline, sleeves and hemline with deeper blue lace.

“How do I look?”

“Beautiful. Your Pa would have been so proud of you. Have a good time, but be careful.”

“I will, Ma. Thank you.” She stepped over and kissed her mother’s cheek. She was pale, with dark rings circling her eyes, and so sad looking sometimes, it broke Claire’s heart.

“Are you all right, Ma? I won’t go if you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick, just a little tired.”

“Will Jacob be coming over this evening?”

“I’m sure he will.”

“That’s good, you’ll have company while I’m gone.”

“Yes.” The strangest expression crossed Ma’s face, only fleeting yet she saw it. Regret? Sadness? Fear? She couldn’t work out which.

“You ready, Claire?” Randy called out from the porch.

“Yes, just a moment.” She kissed her mother goodbye and hurried out of the kitchen. Their cabin had a kitchen and parlor combined, and Ma’s bedroom. She slept up in the loft, but it was a comfortable home, the only one she had ever known.

She stepped out onto the porch and Randy caught her by the hand. “You’ll be the prettiest gal there tonight.”

“Thank you.” She glanced around.

“If you’re looking for Aaron.” He scowled. “He’s riding over.”

He helped her up into the buckboard. “You look very handsome,” she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. She liked him, he knew that, but he was jealous of her feelings for his older brother.

He wore a black Stetson, a black suit with a white shirt and shoe string tie. Blue eyed and blonde, he obviously took after his mother, because Aaron had dark brown hair and green eyes like his father.

It was dusk, still warm luckily as she had no cloak to wear. Not even a respectable coat.

“Giddup.” He flicked the horse’s rump with the reins and they were off. The Sullivan’s lived about two miles away and Marylou, who was turning eighteen, was the youngest of three girls. Mille was married and Joybelle was twenty and looking for a husband.

“They’re having the shindig in the barn,” Randy said. “Well, so Aaron says.”

“How would he know?”

“Because he goes over there quite a lot, I think him and Joybelle are sparking.”

“They are not.”

“Have it your own way. He’s not the saint you make him out to be.”

“What a horrible thing to say about your own brother.”

“Come on, wake up, Claire. He’s only toying with you.”

“Is not.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

They entered the Sullivan’s barn, which had been swept clean and decorated with streamers. Lanterns on posts set out at intervals, gave out adequate light. It was crowded, with a mixture of young and old people.

Marylou, resplendent in a pink gown with matching ribbons worn in her dark curls, was fetching and smiled prettily at her guests. Surprised pleasure swept over her face on seeing Claire.

“Oh, Claire, Randy, I’m so glad you could come.”

They chatted for a while. The three of them had gone to school together, although Randy was three years older than them.

“You’ve got a lot of people here,” Claire said. She waved to Millie and her husband and they smiled and nodded. “Where’s Joybelle?”

“She’s prettying herself up for Aaron.”

Claire turned a gasp of shock into a cough as Randy mouthed. “I told you so.”

It wasn’t true, they weren’t sparking. Aaron loved her. He was only waiting for her to be old enough to wed. The way he kissed her the other night proved it.

He wasn’t talkative like Randy, was a deep thinker, and even as a child she had followed him around. He had always been nice to her. No, he definitely loved her, even if he hadn’t actually said so. She was a woman, and women knew these things.

“Let’s dance.” Randy grabbed her hands and led her on to the dance floor. He took her in his arms and though she liked him, he didn’t cause excited butterflies to flutter in the pit of her stomach like Aaron did.

She saw Aaron the moment he sauntered into the barn. Like Randy, he wore black trousers, his shirt was white and covered by a leather waistcoat with shiny gold buttons. She noticed his brown hair was slicked down, but curled up at the ends where it touched his collar. He glanced around and gave her a dazzling smile, which somehow lit up his green eyes. Every other man in the barn paled into insignificance. Her heart almost catapulted out of her chest.

He walked over to Marylou, picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. This gallant gesture caused jealousy to rise in Claire’s throat. Marylou smiled, then turned to speak with Millie, thank goodness. Aaron strode over to them.

“You look very fetching tonight, Claire. The gown suits you, matches your eyes.”

“Thank you, Ma took it in and added lace trim,” she gabbled. “My eyes are more grey than blue.” He grinned, as if knowing he made her nervous.

“Mind if I cut in, brother?”

“Go ahead.” Randy gave him a sullen look. “You’d do it no matter what I said.” He stalked over to the drinks table.

Claire melted into Aaron’s arms. He held her firmly, his warm breath caressing her cheek and she never wanted the dance to end.