Beauty and the Beasts [Bride Train 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (33 page)

“I didn’t mean—”

“Face your fear and start living,” continued Oz. “Because if you don’t, you’re going to make us lose Sarah. And she’s the best damn thing that ever happened to us.” He blinked rapidly. “Until the three of us bought the Circle C as partners, I never knew what it was like to feel proud. And now Sarah makes me feel whole. I don’t want to lose her.” He inhaled and cleared his throat. “It’s damn well time you started to act like a man.”

“But—”

“He’s right,” said Gabe. “You get Sarah from town after supper. Work things out with her. When we come back tonight, either you’re getting married, or I am.” Gabe straightened to his full height. For once he held his shoulders back and head high. “And where does that leave you?”

* * * *

Three hours later, Luke put the last set of nails on his anvil. He lined them up carefully. There was something satisfying about taking a piece of metal, all bent out of shape, and making it useful again. Sarah had bent him out of shape the moment he set eyes on her. Did he really need Gabe’s hammering to get straight?

Yeah, he did.

Born a few weeks earlier, Gabe had always been there. Gabe’s ma had been his wet nurse. His own mother had birthed him because it was her duty. Nothing in that unwritten contract said she ever had to touch him again.

But he could see Sarah in a rocking chair by the fire, a baby at her breast. She’d hold on to that child, loving it, and protect it with every bit of her being. And he’d stand near, ready to help do whatever a man did with a baby. He wasn’t sure what it was all about, but the MacDougals hung Ross’s tiny twins over their shoulder and rubbed their backs with hands almost larger than the babies. He didn’t know how such a mite could bring up a burp loud enough to startle a drunk.

The way things were going, the valley would be filled with children one day. Trace and Ben planned that all the ranches would work together. They’d already set up a system to share the work of the spring gather. As they worked, they’d figure out what demands they wanted Ben to bring to Helena and Virginia City. They’d be a community of their own. Their children would have lots of friends to learn from, and get in trouble with. They’d have scores of uncles and aunts to teach them, and keep them in line.

How could he make sure Sarah was part of that life?

Daisy suddenly lifted her head and looked toward the cabin. The dog was good company, lying in the shade out of the way. He remembered begging his father for a puppy when he was a young boy. He was coldly informed that animals were not allowed in the house. Not only did they serve no useful purpose, they created work for the servants. That was the end of it.

He liked it when Daisy came over and nudged him now and then, just to let him know she was there. Even Oliver used to come by for a rub before Daisy returned. Their fur was soft and warm. He found himself talking to the dog even more than his horse. The dog looked interested, even maybe understood, while the horse usually looked disgusted with him. The cat didn’t even pretend to listen. Luke snorted a laugh at himself. The way he’d acted the last few years, the cat and horse had it right.

Daisy pulled herself to her haunches. She stared intently at something by the cabin.

“Oh, oh.”

Trotting toward them was a black-and-white cat with its tail high in the air. It moved like it owned the whole damn ranch. Sarah once said with disgust that he acted like that. So did Oliver, she added, but that was okay since it came naturally to a cat.

Daisy liked to chase cats.

Oliver, unaware of Daisy’s presence, continued on. Daisy woofed. Oliver stopped and stared, one paw still in the air. Daisy got to her feet. Oliver puffed up like a porcupine. Daisy yelped. Oliver turned and took off. Uphill, toward the trees. Daisy followed, barking up a storm.

“Daisy! Get back here!”

The dog was gaining on the cat. Luke swore. He strained his eyes to see where the damn cat was aiming at. There was a stand of younger trees to one side, but to the right were much bigger—

“God, no!”

The damn cat might not be able to get down, but could he climb! Ten feet, fifteen…Luke’s stomach did a flip. Daisy leaped at the trunk, barking like she’d treed a mountain lion.

His mind raced so fast he couldn’t think of anything. Moving slowly, he took off his leather apron. He hung it on the nail in the shed. He put away his tools. He went to his knees to make sure he picked up every nail. If Sarah or one of the boys walked through in bare feet, he didn’t want an injury that could turn septic and kill them.

When everything was done that needed doing, he straightened his shoulders and climbed the hill behind the cabin. Slow, steady steps, one in front of the other.

Daisy wagged her tail at him, smile wide as if she’d done a good job. He looked at the tree. A tall pine with enough branches to make it easy for a cat to climb high. Lots of branches, but they were small. They could easily bear a twenty-pound cat, but he weighed about ten times more. He’d just have to hold tight and pray. He told the dog to shush and walked around the tree, craning his neck to see Oliver.

He spotted a white flash high in the tree. He gulped. His stomach clenched, but he hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, and little the night before. Nothing would come up, it would just make him queasy as hell.

“What do you think, Daisy, am I a man, or a worm?”

Daisy, wanting attention, nosed his hand. He couldn’t blame the dog for doing this. When a cat, or other small creature, turned tail and ran, the predator followed. Oliver did the same thing with mice, rats, squirrels, and anything else he could catch to feed himself.

Sarah, on the other hand, stood up and fought back. He could do no less.

First he had to tie Daisy up, far away. Second, he had to find his backbone, even if he had to pull it up through his ass. Then he’d prove he was the man he believed himself to be.

Whether Sarah would marry him or not no longer mattered. This was something he did for himself. He closed his eyes, and the scene that filled his nightmares appeared. He was young enough to still be in short pants. He stood at the edge of a cliff facing the three Gatlin boys. He had a choice: he could stay there and be beaten by the older and bigger boys, or he could jump.

It was his fault he was in the situation. He’d snuck away from Gabe because he wanted to show off to the taunting neighbors. As an adult looking back, he knew they’d purposely said things to make him want to prove himself. His father had made it known that Luke was his only hope of carrying on the family. Everyone knew that the Gatlins hated the Frosts and wanted to destroy them. Killing Luke would kill the Frost family.

Everyone also knew how dangerous the river currents were below the cliff. It was the same place that, years later, the woman Gabe planned to marry committed suicide. She was fifteen by then, married to a brute with no way out except death. At the time, Gabe was in jail for protecting her from her husband’s fists, fighting his own battles. Luke still didn’t know exactly what happened to him there, but Gabe had never been the same after he was released.

Until Sarah came into their lives.

Whatever happened between Gabe and Sarah, Gabe was better for it. It seemed Oz had recently conquered some demons as well. It was his turn.

“Come on, Daisy. Back to the cabin with you.”

Daisy looked at Luke, then the tree, and barked. She was not going to leave her prize without a reward.

“Let’s go get your stick.”

Daisy took off downhill, ears flopping. Luke followed, fighting to breathe.

Twenty minutes later he was in the tree. Climbing was easy. All he had to do was look up and place his hands and feet on the thicker branches. He was still sore from his scuffle with Gabe, but it was good to stretch out.

“Here, kitty,” he said in a singsong voice like Sarah used to cajole the beast. “Time to get down. Sarah’s coming home tonight and she’ll want to cuddle you.” Oliver hissed and climbed another few feet. Luke knocked his forehead against the trunk. “I’m not fond of cats, especially ones who try to unman me with their claws. But you’re important to Sarah,” he said to the black-and-white shape too far above him. “So you’re important to me.”

He made sure his feet were set and his left hand had a good grip before he released his right and reached for a higher branch.

“I don’t know what it is about that woman, but my heart hurts when she’s upset.”

If he kept talking, it meant he didn’t have to think about what to do once he got hold of the cat.

“I bet if I just left you here, you’d be on the ground before I bring Sarah home from town. But I am not afraid of climbing this tree.”

No, he wasn’t afraid of climbing. It was the coming down he had a problem with. If he needed both hands and feet to climb up, how the hell could he get down with a spitting, clawing, twenty-pound beast from hell in his arms?

An eagle’s cry startled him, and he looked down.

“Oh, shit!”

Way, way, below, the rocky ground waited to smash his body. At least last time he’d landed in water. He closed his eyes and said a prayer. Not for him, but for Sarah, his partners, and their children. He couldn’t put it into words, but figured God would know what he meant. He set his jaw and started climbing again.

A scrabbling sound erupted above him. What else was in the tree? He tightened his hold on the branches and set his feet. He looked up. Small bits of bark trickled down the trunk as the scratching sound came nearer.

A distinctive black-and-white shape approached on the far side of the trunk. Oliver, backing down the tree as if he did it every day. The cat didn’t even glance at him as he went past!

“You little rotter,” he whispered, not wanting to scare the beast into climbing up again. But Oliver kept on going, all the way to the bottom. He turned and leaped to the ground.

“You rotten cat! I bet you knew how to climb up, down, and sideways the whole time!” Luke watched as the cat, followed by his insulting tail, disappeared toward the cabin.

No one made him climb this tree. He chose to do it, and he now chose to climb down again. But luck, or something else, had taken the cat out of the equation.

“Thank you, God, for getting Oliver down safely,” he called out, just in case it was a higher power who helped. “I guess the rest is up to me.”

He hooked an arm around the branch so he could stretch and flex his sore hands. He had to finish this, and soon. Not only would his muscles give out, Sarah would be waiting for him in Sophie’s kitchen. They’d arranged for a buggy to be parked by the hotel. She’d be more comfortable there than on his lap on a horse, and the buggy would carry any baking or supplies from the mercantile.

If he was late, Sarah would leave without him. With Sheldrake out of the picture, she’d think she was safe. It was the sort of thing she’d want to prove. But he couldn’t be sure the bastard was gone.

He set his foot on the next lower branch. He had almost released his hand when his foot slipped. He grabbed, his foot flailing in the air for a moment. The tree shook from his fumbling. He closed his eyes and pressed his face against the trunk until the tree stilled. Icy drops of sweat rolled down his temples and between his shoulder blades. When his heart slowed enough so he could breathe, he wiped his palms on his pants, one by one. Then he laughed, delighted to be alive.

Gabe was right. If marrying Sarah was simple, he wouldn’t have wanted her. He looked down to see where to next put his foot. He could do this. One foot, one hand at a time. He was worth it. Sarah was worth it.

She’d better be waiting in Sarah’s kitchen when he rode up. It would give them a private place for the kiss he would give her before proposing.

“Thank you so much for letting us live in your bakery.” Mary Barstow wiped the last of the dishes from supper. Sarah had washed this time.

“It would be silly to leave the place empty when you’ve got such a need,” replied Sarah.

“I enjoyed visiting Florence and her husbands.” Mary chuckled. “That word is still hard for me to say. But they’re all happy, and that’s what matters.” She took a double handful of tin cups to their shelf and stacked them upside down. She lingered there, tracing a pattern on the wood with one finger. “Have you thought about your plans for the bakery?”

Sarah dried her hands and turned to her new friend. Mary was almost thirty, older even than Sophie, but she had an infectious spirit that made her look and act years younger.

“I’ve thought about it a lot, but I’m not sure what I want to do. The town council won’t let me open unless I’m a wife. But if I marry into the Circle C, I’ll want to live on the ranch. It’s only a half hour ride into town, but it would be miserable at four o’clock in the morning, when it’s cold, dark, and wet.”

Mary flashed a quick smile. “I’d be happy to get things going in the morning for you. We’re up early. Owen likes to ride out by sunup to see what trouble’s left over from the night before. At the least, I could prepare the bread and set it in the oven to bake.”

Sarah hadn’t wanted to say anything until she got to know Mary, and her husband, better. The sheriff was certainly both gruff and tough, but he obviously loved his wife and treated her children as his own. He’d been kind to Billy as well, praising him for his roping skills.

“Would you be interested in running it for me until things settle?”

Mary pressed her fingers to her mouth. She swallowed. “Do you mean that?”

“I don’t want to lose the bakery.”
Especially if there really is gold in the walls.
“But I also don’t want to trek back and forth every day from the Circle C, or share Sophie’s bedroom. I want to live on the ranch, whether I end up marrying Luke or not.”

“Do you think you might? Marry him, I mean?”

“Now that I’m getting to know him better, and his partners, I think so.” She fought the blush that threatened when she thought of Thursday night.

“I’ll be blunt with you,” said Mary.

All trace of laughter left her, showing the determined widow who’d survived and, realizing her children would have better prospects out West, chose to ride the Bride Train. Like Sarah, and the other valley women, Mary had a strong will.