A Husband for Karen
Rebecca Long
I should have considered myself lucky. I was lying in a warm dry bed and my stomach wasn’t growling. It had been two months since my father sent me to San Antonio to be the wife of Sylas Gilmer. It was either that or join my father in a hobo jungle outside of Kansas City. My father told me we went from being well off to dirt poor in a week because of the crash. A friend of his friend’s friend knew of a man on a ranch who wanted a pretty and capable wife. Sylas sent his sister Flossy to check me out and said I would do. Flossy was marrying a man in Wyoming, which meant she would be leaving. Having taken care of her brother since he was ten-years old, he had come to rely on having someone around. Flossy was leaving in two weeks so I had a lot to learn in a short time.
I pulled myself out of bed and met Flossy in the kitchen. “I’m coming. These early hours are taking some getting used to; I like to let the sunrise before my feet hit the floor. I spied a vehicle out the door. The truck is a godsend because the new boots you bought me aren’t quite broken in.”
“I’ll be back next year for a visit and you’ll probably be on your third pair by then.” Flossy tossed me a set of keys.
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