Chapter One
The candle flickered in the midnight breeze, causing Benedick to rise to his feet and pull the shutters closed. It did little to help the stench in the room, but he ignored it for the concern at hand.
Namely, his father.
He turned back to face the mighty man who had been confined to his bed due to age and illness. While Benedick would never consider himself a coward––nor would anyone dare call him one––he couldn’t seem to ignore the heavy ache of uncertainty in his chest threatening to overwhelm him. If he could, he would run out the door to his escape in a second.
But this was his father, Lewis Carter, and the man was dying.
“The boys?” the man croaked.
His voice was hardly more than a whisper. Memories rushed at Benedick as he returned to his father’s side and took the chair. His hand covered Lewis’s, and he leaned forward in the hopes the old man might focus his gaze long enough to look at him.
Every breath was difficult. Benedick feared it would not be long now.
“They’re resting. Like you should be,” he added in the hopes of changing the subject.
Lewis closed his eyes. “Good boys. Good boys.”
Working his jaw in the hopes the tightness he felt there would keep the tears at bay, Benedick reminded him, “You raised us well.”
His father gave a slight nod. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. It has been three weeks now. The man had taken a fall from his horse and injured his knee, and pneumonia arose within the next two days. Since then, every day had been a little more difficult for the mighty Lewis Carter.
It was difficult to look at his father now. Benedick hated to admit the truth to himself, but this was the case.
Once a well-trained boxer turned rancher, local winner of nearly every race on foot or horse, Lewis was nothing more than a shell of the strong man that Benedick had known for all his life.
Even now, his father’s skin was growing gray. It was papery thin and wrinkled everywhere. There were wrinkles on top of the wrinkles. The light he had known in his father’s eyes was no longer there, nor were the quick smiles, sharp rebukes, and clever remarks that could make anyone laugh.
It felt like a punch to the gut for Benedick to realize his father would soon be gone.
He had avoided this moment for years. Then he’d tried to pacify himself with at least a couple of months when the accident occurred. However, a few weeks had already passed, and the weight on his shoulder said they were already out of days.
Maybe even hours.
He kept searching for signs of the man who had raised him and his brothers but found none. Benedick found his strength failing him too. He felt seven years old instead of twenty-seven. His eyes studied Lewis for something familiar, but the illness had turned him into a pale, sickly ghost of a man. When he had once been tall and strong, he was now small and empty. His brown hair had already begun to thin and turn gray. Even now, the familiar eyes of the Carter family didn’t look so familiar. They were filmy and vacant.
“Benedick,” his father breathed, saliva hanging from the corner of his bottom lip.
He moved his gaze back up to his father’s eyes. “I’m here. I’m here, Pa.”
“You’ve done good. Hard workers, all of you. I only wish I could see…the ranch…one more time.”
The Red Creek Ranch in River City was established by Lewis Carter’s grandfather, Samuel Carter, many years ago. When Samuel discovered the property, it was open land with a strong river. He knew it would be the perfect place to make a home, so he had staked his claim and built the ranch from the ground up. He hoped this land and ranch would be passed down to his family, and it was. His son, Roger Carter, had taken up the work and doubled it in size before Lewis came around.
A family ranch. The men in his family knew of nothing else, and that was just the way they wanted it.
Except for right now, since Benedick would give the entire property back if it would help him keep his father. He wasn’t ready to let the man go. They hadn’t had the best of relationships, but his mother had passed ten years ago, and he wasn’t ready to be alone.
“You get better.” His voice was rough as he leaned forward, emotion thick in his throat. “You get better, and I’ll take you out. Soon as tomorrow morning if that’s to your liking, Pa.”
Lewis managed a weak smile. “I would like that. But you know that isn’t…The ranch is yours now.”
“Not yet.”
“Soon.”
Pressing his lips together, Benedick knew it was no time to argue. He held his father’s hand with one of his own while he used the other to find an old, faded handkerchief from his pockets. He’d used it to wipe his brow earlier that day while working under the sun. Now, he used it to wipe his father’s mouth. He tried to do it gently but feared he didn’t know how.
The truth of the matter was that he didn’t feel he knew how to do very much at all. He could break a horse, manage cattle, and build a dam in the river. He could even make a mean plate of donuts. That was the limit; he wasn’t good for much else.
“I’m not ready,” he admitted at last, hating how weak he sounded.
“You will be.” His father’s eyes fluttered open and shut, almost as if they were too heavy to manage. “Get yourself a wife. Get an…heir. Then you will be.”
Benedick jerked, frowning at the notion. He didn’t want to talk about women and babies at a time like this. Marriage was the furthest thing from his mind. “What? No. Pa, I have three brothers. One of them can take care of it someday.”
“It’s the first-born,” Lewis insisted.
“But––”
“Don’t.”
He swallowed hard. Dropping his head, Benedick considered the idea. He never saw himself as the marrying type. Maybe having a wife wouldn’t be so bad. It might be nice to have someone by his side. Someone to wake up to every morning, someone who would always be there, ready to talk, ready to fight. The notion made his stomach twist.
Flinching, he ground his teeth. “Pa, I can’t.”
“You will.”
“But what if I don’t want to?” He hated how he sounded so stubborn. Most of the time, he didn’t mind being obedient and doing as he was told. It served him well most of the time––served them all well.
Had he not lived the life his father had demanded of him for so long? The ranch was everything. Lewis had him riding before he could walk, reciting his letters and numbers while fixing fences. The ranch was as much a part of him as his own hand. It was all he’d ever known.
Marriage, however? He wasn’t convinced of that.
This ranch was his life, just the way his father had raised him to believe it should be. Benedick had never once questioned spending the rest of his life here. He wanted this ranch; however, he saw no reason why he needed to marry in order to keep it running smoothly.
“You must.” His father shifted his grasp and squeezed his hand. Or he at least tried to. “Tradition, Benedick. I need you to do this. You don’t have to love the girl. Just marry her. You are the eldest, and this ranch is your birthright. The responsibility lies with you. It’s my final wish, my last request, son. Please honor it.”
Such words made him wince.
His grandfather had left England a bitter first-born son who was denied his birthright by his own father for reasons he’d never been told. Though he left his family and homeland for a fresh start, he’d kept some traditions alive in the family.
Which, clearly, were now echoed in Lewis’s words. Benedick knew of the family pride all too well. It demanded that they always worked hard and presented their best. He had found peace in this.
But marriage and inheritances and birthrights had never been a part of this until now.
Everyone knew he was averse to marriage, including his father. There had been girls in his youth who eyed him and wished for him to woo them. Once or twice, he had been nearly convinced. He’d even entertained a kiss or two along the way.
But not marriage, never marriage. Just two years ago, their opinionated pastor at the time had not-so-subtly scolded him during a sermon for not being a married man in a town with so many available young women. Benedick had only stared at him coldly before walking out. His brothers reassured him that the town still talked about that moment.
He had been a fool to act that way. Never prone to outbursts, he should have sat there and ignored the pointed looks from the pastor and the stares on the back of his head from the rest of the congregation.
Except he couldn’t stop thinking about the shouting he had grown up with for the first seventeen years of his life. All that yelling. The animosity, the anger…he didn’t want that.
And here was his father, asking him otherwise.
“Benedick, the ranch needs you. Your brothers need you. Take a wife and be strong.”
Shuddering at the agreement, Benedick willed himself to choke back the emotion threatening to submerge him. Emotion didn’t do anyone any good, he knew it well. He didn’t want that tight feeling in his chest.
It all went away after a few deep breaths. Painful ones. Only then did he straighten up and look at his father.
This was the wilderness of Texas they lived in, the only home he had ever known. The only one he would ever have. Around these parts, a man was only as good as his word. He had to keep it. That meant he had to be careful about what he agreed to at any given time, even now.
“All right, Pa.” The words fell awkwardly off his tongue. He stared at his father’s hand. “Fine. I’ll find someone to marry.” He expected a response and waited. Yet, when Benedick lifted his eyes to see his father’s expression, his breath left him.
His father couldn’t respond. Not now and not ever.
With Lewis’s passing, a heavy weight settled onto Benedick’s shoulders. There was some relief knowing his father was no longer in pain. Beyond that was hesitation for everything he must do from this point on.
He had been preparing himself for all the new responsibilities he would acquire with his father’s passing. With his father’s wisdom and guidance now gone, he knew it was up to him to keep the ranch afloat. That was a heavy burden, but he felt he could be successful.
His days were already busy, but now the reap of good or ill would fall on him. Leaning back in his chair, Benedick considered everything he had to manage now.
With no more wisdom or support from his father, he was going to have to find a way to survive.
He would have more to manage now that his father was gone. His head spun as he considered all he had to do. There was the ranch, his brothers, a funeral to plan, and somehow, he needed to find a wife.
Chapter Two
Humming, Viola paused where she was cleaning the stained-glass window by the back door of her home.
It was a ramshackle place, she knew, but she tried to take good care of it. The brass knobs didn’t match. Only half the windows had any glass. Few of the legs from their tables and chairs happened to sit right and evenly. Their small home was a mess of items that came and went through the years.
But it was her home, and she liked that.
Living in Hedgeson, a small town on the border of Oklahoma and Texas, meant there were many quiet days. Those were the ones she liked most of all.
Especially since they were so close to Green Hills, a town three times the size of her little town, that was booming with business. Folks came and went back and forth with regular business. Other people, that was––not her.
“Across the river blue and past the hill of green,” she sang under her breath, “we come together as––”
“Viola! Look what I have!”
She was used to the banging of the front door just like she was used to the sound of her mother’s eager tone. Something was always exciting for Laura Summers. New neighbors, blossoming flowers, and the usual win of cards at any table where a woman was welcome.
Turning, she found her mother waving a case around the narrow hallway. The corner banged into the wall, but only Viola winced.
“A viola for my Viola,” Laura teased. “I know you always wanted to play. Come see it!”
There was work to be done and supper to be prepared, but Viola found her feet obeying her mother. It was hard not to. The woman’s eager mannerisms were too charming to ignore for long. This garnered more than enough trouble through the years. But Viola couldn’t help obeying her mother now, curious herself about the instrument hidden within the case.
She glanced at her mother as she came forward.
In the past week alone, more than one person had commented on how similar the mother-daughter pair appeared. They were both petite with soft curves, bouncing blonde hair, and big blue eyes. While Viola’s nose was more pert, her mother had two inches on her and a few fine lines on her face and neck.
And there was that smile. It looked so innocent, so fresh. Viola knew it well; too well, she feared.
“Where did this come from?” she chided.
Laura was too busy opening the case now. Her entire body squirmed with delight as she pulled the latches and pushed it open to reveal––
“Oh my!”
Viola couldn’t help saying the words, gasping in delight as she admired the stunning instrument resting on the hallway table. Her eyes roamed over the bow cushioned by sweet, crushed velvet. The very sight of it took her breath away.
As performers and jacks of all trades passed through their town over the years, she enjoyed every show she could sneak into. Sometimes she couldn’t even watch; all she could do was listen. And that would be enough. It had to be. The violas had been more than enough. They had the prettiest sound in all the world. It was her dream to have one to touch, to play. All she needed was to learn and to have one in her hands.
Now she had a viola of her own.
Her heart melted with joy. She reached out her hand in breathless delight but paused right at the case. Exhaling, she felt the initial happiness begin to fade.
It always did. With it came discomforting dread.
“Mama,” Viola said with a frown. “Where did you get this?”
The woman turned to her with extremely wide eyes. “The store, of course, my dear.”
“The store?”
“Certainly. You know I’m not a thief, darling. I’m simply a shopper. I’ve been wanting to improve our situation, and that’s what I’ve been doing. And I wanted to do something special for you. Isn’t it about time you had one of these?” her mother added with a sparkle in her eye.
Another thing Viola feared she couldn’t trust.
“You deserve the best, darling. I always say that. Don’t I?”
Ignoring the poke her mother gave her on the shoulder, Viola slowly nodded. “Yes, that is correct. But….”
“But nothing! Look at this beautiful thing. Almost as lovely as you.” Her mother prattled on eagerly about the viola, rambling off what the general store manager had been able to tell her about it. She could only imagine how well Mr. Hanger would have talked about each and every one of his wares, especially to her mother, who always liked the next shiny new thing.
Then Viola frowned.
This instrument was not the only shiny thing her mother had brought home recently. Her brow furrowed as she eyed Laura’s new blouse with fine lace cuffs. Her shoes were polished, too.
She continued to count as she looked around their little house. There were two new chairs at the table. Four new glasses by the sink. One porcelain vase on the table filled with a dozen flowers that were purchased, not plucked from the lane or snipped from someone else’s garden.
“Mama….”
“Don’t take that tone with me,” her mother pouted. “Can’t we just have one day to celebrate? To have fun?”
Her eager tone only reinforced the tightening in Viola’s stomach. She stepped away from the instrument. “Mother, we don’t have this sort of money. We never do. What is going on? What have you done? We must return everything at once or––”
“Or what?” Laura wrapped a hand around her arm. “Don’t worry. Everything is going well! I’ve been playing cards with a few friends, that’s all. And I was winning.”
“That doesn’t mean you can keep playing. Cards, races, whatever it is, you must stop,” Viola told her mother. “We’ll sell everything back and hold onto the money. I think that would be most practical. I don’t even know how to play a viola, after all. Your luck will not hold forever and…and….”
She trailed off as she caught her mother’s gaze. Laura suddenly looked rather young. She wrung her fingers together with a wobbly smile on her lips.
Viola felt her gut clench.
“Mama? What have you done?”
“I…Well, this gift comes with a, erm, price tag, you could say. You’re right, I’m afraid. I couldn’t win everything.” Her mother squirmed under her gaze.
Everyone knew Viola to be a cheerful young woman. Eager to please, eager to laugh, eager to smile. But she couldn’t smile now.
“What sort of price?” she forced herself to ask.
“It won’t be that bad. You’ll have your own home and a new wardrobe, he promised. Doesn’t that sound lovely? He told me all about the house in Green Hills. There are white shutters and two floors with an attic. A big porch, too. He said he would take good care of you. It wasn’t like I had anything else on the table, and he knew it. But I really think––”
Through her ramblings, Viola garnered a terrible notion of what her mother had agreed to.
She stared. “Mama, you didn’t.”
“I don’t have the money to pay him back,” Laura told her in a small voice, her shoulders hunched up to her ears. “It’s the only way. Besides, you told me you wanted to get married.”
Stunned, Viola wished that she could shout. Scream. Cry. Destroy the house and shake her mother until the woman saw sense. She wanted to do something. Yet, all she could bring herself to do was stare. Her body wouldn’t move. She could hardly breathe.
“You…sold me off…in a game” were the hardest words she’d ever said. Mind scrambling, Viola tried to process what Laura had done to her.
“Don’t say it like that! Darling, please, he told me. He promised me. He is going to take very good care of you,” her mother offered.
She hated asking, but she had to. “Who?”
After a moment of squirming, Laura confessed, “Joaquin Faulkes.”
Horror spread through Viola like she’d been tossed in a fire. She jumped back, clutching her chest. “What?” she cried out. Terror intermingled with disgust as she gaped at her mother.
The woman wasn’t dumb, but she wasn’t particularly brilliant either. She relied on luck for her games, and she never understood that everything would eventually fall apart. She’d had Viola when she was only sixteen years of age, running away from her home in Arkansas to here, where she never managed to land a job that lasted more than a couple months.
Although they’d never had much, Viola had enjoyed her childhood, and she loved her mother. No one was perfect. But her mother’s vices had never meant this much trouble for her.
“Mama!” Viola choked out. “He runs a gang! How could you? I cannot believe you would even talk to him. He’s dangerous. You know what they say about him. He steals horses and goods. He steals people, too!”
A shudder rippled through her as she considered the man. He was more than a head taller than herself. Only in his thirties, his black hair was speckled with gray. His pale blue eyes were colder than ice, though, and everything about him was hard.
She knew of the man, and he knew of her. They had passed a few times through the streets since he came around often. Business, he claimed.
Folks talked in Hedgeson. Everyone knew of Faulkes and his gang––at least eight men who called themselves the Red Riders––had been blamed in a couple of kidnappings on the Oklahoma side. He was a people smuggler and a horse thief. Either crime was more than enough to get a man hung by the neck for his final breaths.
Shivering, she crossed her arms. Faulkes had tried to talk to her a few times before. Those eyes saw right through her. The man was cold, strange, and dangerous. And she wanted nothing to do with him.
“You can’t prove that,” her mother was saying as she was lost in her thoughts. “No one can! He said he would never hurt a person. Including his wife.”
The very idea made Viola flinch. “I can’t marry him!” Stepping back into the wall, she felt her entire soul shrink with fear at the notion. “Mama, you cannot think I’d go through with this?”
Her mother loved her. She knew that. The woman had mended her cuts, encouraged her to learn, and given her endless hugs and kisses on the cheek. Laura Summers could not give her child away like this.
“Well, I must do something. Doesn’t it solve both of our problems?” the woman offered with a hopeful smile. “You get yourself a husband and your own home at last. And I don’t owe him any debts!”
“But I don’t want to marry him!”
“You want a husband, and you can have him now. You’ll be fine! He wants to settle down. I think you would be good for him, Viola.”
She cringed as she said, “I would rather marry anyone else. The town drunk, the loud pastor, any of them!”
Laura froze, her owlish eyes staring at her as though she hadn’t considered her daughter might disagree. “But…but…what do I do if you don’t? I can’t pay it, Viola. I don’t have the money to pay him back. We don’t have the money. Come now, maybe you can help your husband stay on the right side of the law, don’t you think?”
With her heart hammering, Viola put a hand to her forehead. She closed her eyes as she tried to pull herself together. Her stomach only grew queasier while her skin felt hot to the touch. The anger built up inside her as she tried to relieve the panic.
“How much do you owe him?”
After a pause, her mother whispered, “One thousand dollars.”
“What!” Her voice was shrill as she cried out in dismay at such a large sum.
That was a small fortune. No, a large one. She scrambled to sort out how her mother could have gotten herself in so deep. She would have thought they might be able to gather a hundred dollars or two, but she knew there was no chance of collecting a thousand dollars. That would take them a lifetime.
“Mama!”
The woman shrank back a step. “I just…I nearly won, darling.”
It was too much. Viola could hardly stand any longer. Her limbs shook, and she flinched when her mother dared to reach out to her. “Don’t,” Viola ordered before running past her.
Fresh air, that was what she needed. Racing out the door, Viola breathed in loud gulps as she hurried down the lane.
She didn’t know where she was going. There was no purpose to it. All she knew was that she needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. Looking around, Viola clutched her stomach in desperation. She feared she might be sick even though she hadn’t eaten in a long time. Thoughts storming around her mind, she kept walking. She saw her mother’s face in her mind and tensed. The poor naïve woman was blinded by money. Usually, Viola could endure her mother’s ways.
But this? This was too much.
Viola fixed her grasp around herself and turned down a lane. She couldn’t bear to be around her mother right now. Wiping the tears from her face, she knew she had to do something. The answer, however, evaded her.
They couldn’t pay him off. But she also couldn’t marry him.
No, she would rather marry anyone else. The words she had told her mother echoed in her mind. As she crossed to Main Street, the only lane with shops in Hedgeson, she found herself wandering over to the general store.
A plan, Viola told herself, they needed a plan. But what? How else could she and her mother pay back Faulkes?
The orderliness of the shop helped her calm her breathing. Roaming the shelves, Viola began to relax. She studied the options for flour and the three types of fabric for sale before passing the dried beans. By the time she reached the selection of books and newspapers, she was much calmer…albeit without a plan.
Until she found the ads.
“Mail-order brides,” Viola mouthed.
The term sounded familiar, and she read through the ads to garner a better understanding. Men and women were writing about themselves, and they wanted someone to marry. The men were willing to send for women, and the women were willing to travel to the men.
The notion didn’t sound too terrible. It was true that she wanted to marry. She was twenty-two years of age without any prospects in her small town, especially since she had never even traveled even to Green Hills like her mother had.
A home of her own. A husband who would most likely not be as dangerous as Faulkes.
Her breath hitched as one ad stood out.
There was a young man, a rancher, in need of a wife. He didn’t expect much––just someone to help tend his home. A cook, a cleaner, a helpmeet. Viola rocked on her heels, wondering if her troubles were over. It would be one train ride away to the western corner of Texas. So close, and yet far enough from here.
She stared at the ad, wondering if she dared.
“Her Ray of Sunshine” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!
Even though Viola Summers loves her mother, she cannot go through with her promise to marry off to a stranger. Eager to escape, she decides to take control of her future and answer the ad of a rancher. However, when she arrives at Benedick’s house, an extraordinary world awaits her. The dream of a happy life seems to be coming true, until the day her past comes knocking at the door…
Can Viola persuade Benedick that their love is worth fighting for, although she barely knows him?
Benedick Carter has remained dedicated to his family despite the constant arguments between his parents. When his father’s dying request is for him to marry to ensure an heir for their ranch, he reluctantly agrees, afraid of repeating his parents’ mistakes. Yet, when Viola turns up, she challenges everything he thought about love…
Will Benedick dare to open his heart to let someone new in his life?
When Benedick finds out that Viola is holding back a well-kept secret, his trust will be shaken, and the wedding will be at stake… What are Viola and Benedick willing to sacrifice in order to have a happy ever after? Can they change their minds and hearts for a future together?
“Her Ray of Sunshine” is a historical western romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
Hello everyone! Hope you enjoy this little preview of my new book!