Ties

By Roberta Olsen Major

Clementine figures Jack Standard will wake up, smell the coffee, and be hers someday--until her stepsister Diana shows up at the High Standards spread in Texas and stakes a claim of her own. Diana has always had a flair for getting what she wants--and what she wants this time is a piece of the Standards. All his life, Harry Standard's big brother has had to clean up after him. But not this time. This time, Harry Standard will find a way to get Diana out of Jack and Clem's way once and for all…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9781590880296

Book preview

What They Are Saying About

Roberta Olsen Major’s Ties

O nce I reacquired TIES from my granddaughter, I found myself being highly entertained... It was much more of an attention-getter than James Mitchner... Major is a talented author who gives her readers the opportunity to partake of sheer reading for pleasure... style, composition and wild imagination... I love reading a book where the good guys win and the bad ones go to that place where bad guys will reside for all eternity...

—a reader from Texas

I just finished TIES over the weekend! What a great book. I just loved it. I just love the subtleties...such a delightful band of characters! Harry is a loverly hero!!

—a reader from California

It was a really good story, with so many twists and turns, and such a wonderful command of language ...

—a reader from Maryland

Historical novels are my favorites and [the author has] combined this with adventure, romance, a big social message and very interesting characters.

—a reader from Vermont

[BOUND] is a great book—and wait until you read both TIES and PIECRUST PROMISES. More of those same folks! They're every bit as well crafted and entertaining.

—an advance reader from Iowa

Ties

Roberta Olsen Major

A Wings ePress, Inc.

Western Historical Romance Novel

Edited by: Lorraine Stephens

Copy Edited by: Sara V. Olds

Senior Editor: Sara V. Olds

Executive Editor: Lorraine Stephens

Cover Artist: Pam Ripling

All rights reserved

NAMES, CHARACTERS AND incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Wings ePress Books

Copyright © 2002 by Roberta Olsen Major

ISBN 1-59088-029-3

Published by Wings ePress, Inc.

Published In the United States Of America

Wings ePress Inc.

3000 N. Rock Road

Newton, KS  67114

Dedication

In memory of my Texas grandparents,

Fulton Woodrow and Carrie Elizabeth Lowe,

and with love for my sisters-in-law,

Joanne Bingham, Cathy Garcia

Mary Major, and Annette Olsen

I am blessed by our ties...

Part One

1849—1852

One

Standard’s Point, Texas

They stood on the porch of Augie Ledbetter’s dry goods store, one tall and slim, the other small and dainty. From a distance, you might have thought—had you known they were mother and daughter—that the small one was the child. But closer up, you would find faint lines fanning out from the small woman’s eyes, and a thread or two of gray in her brown hair.

And there was no mistaking the untried look of the tall one. She had hazel eyes, hair the color of native honey, and a quiet smile—should you be lucky enough to catch her in one. While her mama’s bodice curved out and nipped in, the daughter was still pretty much straight up and down—another sign that she had some growing to do.

Lord knows they both prayed it wouldn’t be the up and down kind.

You got a feeling of anticipation from the two of them, though the daughter’s was banked. The mother paced a little, though, and twisted the cord of her little drawstring bag every once in awhile. And they both turned their eyes to the north end of the street often, where the stage was supposed to come barreling into town any time now.

So far, though, there wasn’t much traffic.

It was a chilly afternoon at the tail end of winter, and the people of Standard’s Point were mostly going about their business—though they spared a friendly nod or a wave or smile for the two in front of Ledbetter’s dry goods.

In the daughter’s unspectacular breast, there was a hum of anxiety, though you couldn’t tell it from her face.

Afternoon, Mrs. Standard.

Clementine McKee could feel her mama stiffen, even from a few steps away. She looked over at the man. He was a tall young man—which was the first thing she checked right off, even though she’d never admit it—and many a woman would call him handsome. Clem knew him by sight only; Standard’s Point was not so large that you could call anyone a complete stranger.

Her mama, who was a smiling woman, only spared this man a stingy one. And Clem saw the way she took a half step in front of her daughter, as if to protect her.

Mr. Brody. Along with the miserly smile, Jewel McKee Dover Standard dipped her chin in what might be able to pass for a nod, if you made allowances.

Meeting someone on the stage this afternoon? Cameron Brody asked as pleasantly as if he hadn’t just been as close to snubbed as a sweet woman like Jewel could bring herself to do.

Clementine, even at sixteen, figured he had to be as dumb as a post if he couldn’t tell Mama didn’t want to chat with him.

Yes, Jewel said curtly. Now, if you’ll excuse us.

Brody touched the brim of his hat. He didn’t look offended in the least. In fact, Clementine almost thought she saw a glint of amusement in his cold dark eyes. Give my regards to your husband, Mrs. Standard.

Jewel dipped her chin again, though her fingers were white on the cord of her little bag. Cameron Brody moved off, chuckling.

What is it you don’t like about Brody? Clem asked when he was out of earshot.

What makes you think there’s things I don’t like about Mr. Brody? Jewel hedged. Then, without waiting for an answer, she went on. Is the stage late, or am I just anxious? It’s been a lot of years. Jewel pulled out a handkerchief, coughed into it, then folded it up and tucked it away. What if I don’t recognize her?

Clementine smiled her quiet smile. She’ll probably be the only dark-haired young lady arriving on the stage this afternoon.

Jewel started to chuckle, but it turned into another cough. When the spell had passed, she looked up at the serene face of her practical daughter. You’re my joy, Clementine. What would I do without you?

Clem half-shrugged, smiled again, then took another look towards the north end of the street that cut Standard’s Point into pretty much two equal halves.

Diana Dover was coming. The stepsister she barely remembered.

Diana had chosen to stay with an aunt when her stepmother came to Texas eight years back. Now, after all this time, she’d decided to join them in Texas. Whether it was the death of the aunt, or for some other unnamed reason, Diana Dover was coming out to High Standards. She was going to share Clem’s house, Clem’s mother and stepfather, Clem’s stepbrothers, Harry and Jack.

Clem gave a slight shake of her head. No, not Jack.

She figured she wouldn’t mind sharing the rest of it. It might be nice to have a sister again. Though, if memory served her right, it hadn’t been that great the first time around. Still, people could change. You had to believe that—or it might not be worth getting up in the morning.

EVEN TIRED AND DUSTY after the journey, Diana Dover was a vision. Small, like Jewel, dark-haired, like a fairy tale princess, her travelling dress was vivid blue in contrast to the dark of her eyes.

Mama Jewel? The old name seemed to come easily to her tongue as she leaned forward to kiss the air beside the older woman’s cheek.

Why, Diana, Jewel breathed, you’ve turned into quite a beautiful young lady! A real credit to your Aunt Delphinia.

Diana thanked her prettily enough, but Clem caught a flash of something in her stepsister’s eyes as she turned. Land, but you’re tall, girl! You must just tower over all the fellows!

Clementine shrugged, though her stepsister’s remark had her feeling all sharp elbows and knobby knees.

Jewel tucked her arm through her daughter’s, and smiled at her stepdaughter. This way, she said, they all get a good look at her pretty face.

Diana seemed to realize that she’d ruffled some feathers. There is that, she agreed gaily. Now tell me all about this place, this High Standards of yours, Mama Jewel. I suppose your Mr. Standard is very rich and handsome, else you wouldn’t have come all this way to marry him—and stuck it out with him, besides.

SO, LET ME TRY TO GET this straight, Harry said with a laugh as he leaned back in his chair at the supper table that night. Your daddy, Diana, was married to your mama first, and she died when you were a baby.

Diana nodded with just the right amount of solemnity, though her eyes had a sparkle to them.

Clem’s daddy died when she was a baby, Harry went on.

Clem nodded, but Harry was looking at her beautiful stepsister, so he missed it.

Your daddy married Clem’s mama when Clem was two and you were—? Harry paused. Not polite to fish for a lady’s age, but this was a family supper, so he thought he could get away with it.

I was six. Diana’s smile was coy.

Harry did the math right quick, then grinned. He was a year older than Clem, so that made three years difference. And three years wasn’t such a big gap that it couldn’t be leaped by someone willing.

My papa died four years later. I stayed with Mama Jewel and Clementine until Mama Jewel decided to come to Texas and marry Mr. Jeremiah. Diana’s smile at Jeremiah Standard was meant to say plainly that now she understood the why of it. I stayed in Boston with Aunt Delphinia.

Your family ties are as tangled as ours, Harry said with a grin. Between Jack and me, we’ve had three stepmamas. He winked at Jewel, who dimpled back at him. But we like our Jewel best.

Jeremiah cleared his throat.

Meaning no disrespect to the other two, Harry said.

Virginia and Ella May had both been nice enough ladies, but neither of them had proved hardy. Virginia had died after just a year of marriage—thrown from the horse she’d been trying to learn to ride. Ella May had lasted eighteen months—but childbed fever had carried her off. Undaunted, Jeremiah had remarried. And then remarried again. High Standards wanted a woman’s touch—and Jeremiah Standard did, too.

CLEMENTINE HAD ALREADY helped Diana unpack that afternoon—though helped was probably an understatement. Diana had sat herself down in a chair by the lace-curtained window, while Clem shook out dresses, folded away dainty underthings, spread out trinkets and furbelows from the tightly-packed trunk.

She’d been fascinated by the gewgaws and paint pots, but when Diana had offered to use them on her, Clementine had shied away like a skittish horse.

Now it was bedtime. Jewel had urged Clem to follow Diana upstairs. Make sure she settles in, Jewel had added in a whisper. It’s her first night here and she might be feeling a little uncomfortable.

Clem couldn’t help but smile at the difference between Jewel’s concerns and the reality of Diana Dover. Diana had peeled off her dress, shoes and stockings, and shrugged into a garment that was frilly and loose-fitting. Now she sat down in front of her mirror and took down her hair.

Tell me what you do for fun here, Clementine, she demanded.

Clem made a little shrug. I help in the kitchen—I’m a pretty fair cook—and I ride out with Jack and Harry sometimes to check the fences and see to the stock. We go into Standard’s Point on Saturdays to pick up things at the dry goods, and Reverend French preaches on Sundays. He’s not too dry, and his wife is a nice lady. And now that winter is just about over, there’ll likely be a barn dance or two.

Diana was looking at her with open scorn. Call that fun? Land, Clementine, I mean, which fellows are the best-looking? Which men are the richest? Who dances best?

Clem shrugged again. I don’t much care about dancing.

Diana pouted. Well, I do. At least you can tell me about the men around here. You aren’t still such a baby that you don’t think about boys, are you, Clementine?

Clem thought about them, sure, but there was only one that mattered. Still, she did her best to oblige her stepsister. Well, there’s Buck Dudley. He’s my age—

Too young, Diana interrupted.

He’s got a pretty face, Clem went on, and strong hands. He’s a hard worker.

What about that tall man I saw when the stage pulled up in front of the mercantile? The dark-haired man, clean-shaven like a gentleman, with the dark eyes?

You must mean Cameron Brody, Clementine said. Mama don’t much like him.

Diana laughed, but it wasn’t nice. What would you expect from a woman who married Jeremiah Standard? She’s got no taste. No offense to either of them, I’m sure, she added quickly when she saw the look on Clementine’s face. As for that Cameron Brody, though, he looks exciting. She brushed a few more strokes through her dark hair, then paused. Do you think your stepfather will throw a party for me—if I ask him nicely? He’s got this big house—perfect for a party—and I do so want to meet everyone.

Everyone wearing pants, Clem thought. But she only smiled. Want me to ask him for you?

Diana tossed down her brush. No offense, Clementine, but I’ll ask him myself. I think I can handle a man four times married—better than an innocent like you could.

DIANA GOT HER WISH. Jeremiah was happy to host a party—though it was Jewel and Clementine who did the planning. Louetta, the slave who ruled the kitchen, organized the food—though Clementine spent a lot of time with her sleeves rolled up, lending a hand.

Jewel did what she could, but she was looking peaked. Her cough seemed to be getting worse, too. Clem found, when helping with the laundry, that her mama was coughing up streaks of blood, but when she tried to talk to Jewel about it, it was just waved off like it didn’t mean a thing. So it was Clem who, rather than standing around worrying, pitched in to help with the party preparations, taking Louetta’s bossing calmly, working late into the night and getting up early to start it all over again.

Diana was not good for much more than standing around looking pretty. She concentrated her energy on flirting with the Standard boys and their papa, just to keep her skills honed to a razor sharpness. And when Jeremiah, Jack and Harry were busy elsewhere, she turned her attention to the foreman, Eli Burnett. She even managed to make the hands, Walt and Arthur, think they were something special—though they were obviously at the bottom of the pecking order.

How does she do that? Clem wondered as she reached for another ear of corn to shuck. She’s got every man and boy on High Standards land drooling like some kind of hungry hound dog.

This wasn’t strictly true.

Jeremiah, for example, was pleasant enough, but seemed immune to Diana’s charms. He was a canny man, where females were concerned, and Diana might as well have been crafted of spun glass, so well did Jeremiah see through her.

And Jack, to Clem’s relief, followed Jeremiah’s lead. Jack, at twenty-three, had more important things on his mind than dallying with a pretty girl. Jeremiah was handing over more and more of the running of High Standards to his older son. And, of course, there were still Harry’s messes to clean up—which duty fell to Jack, as it always had.

Harry wasn’t around much. Jeremiah suddenly seemed to have lots of errands for the younger son of the house to do—and that kept him pretty well out of Diana’s reach, except at mealtimes. And at mealtimes, after all that hard work, Harry was more hungry for biscuits and pie than he was for flirting.

Clem had never met a girl so desperate for male attention. It was an interesting thing to watch—except that there was no time to stand around watching. There was more corn to shuck, biscuits to cut, pies to bake, and a hundred other things to do to make ready for the party.

ON THE NIGHT OF THE party, High Standards was lit up like a drunken cowboy. The furniture had been pushed back to make room for dancing, and boards were set up and draped with cloths and covered with mountains of food of all kinds, from fresh tamales and dried apple pie to corn fritters and cheese biscuits.

A new dress had appeared on Clem’s bed that afternoon—more grown up than anything she’d ever worn before—in a deep rose color that flattered her tanned skin and honey-colored hair.

Jewel mustered up the energy to fuss over Clementine, pinning up her customary braid and tucking a rose next to the coronet of plaited hair.

You look beautiful, darlin’. All grown up. Jewel seemed melancholy this evening, for all her smiles.

Hardly. Clem smoothed her hands over her bodice—which still lay mostly flat. She wasn’t one to waste time in pining, but it would have been nice if God had shared out a few of Diana’s curves among those less fortunate. But at least I won’t shame you and Daddy J.

Never, Jewel said. Never ever.

CLEMENTINE FELT FUNNY as she came down the stairs. With her hair up and her shoulders practically bare, she felt too exposed, like some poor little jackrabbit in a room full of bobcats. Would the fellows laugh at her—Harry and Buck and the others—for daring to dress up like a girl? Would they dance with her—or would they only have eyes for Diana Dover?

One look at her stepsister, and Clem knew the answer to that last one.

Diana was dressed in white. It ought to have looked demure, with its modest neckline and simple lines, but there was something about the way she filled it out that wasn’t at all sedate. If the girls in the room looked and thought wedding gown, well, the men in the room had to be thinking nightgown for the way their eyes followed her as she moved around the room.

Diana paused just long enough to tell Clementine how sweet and girlish she looked. You make me feel like a hag, she trilled without an ounce of sincerity.

Whatever hopes the new dress had raised in Clementine’s