Dorothy Garlock (34 page)

“After we’re married Logan wants to go out to meet the men coming in with his herd,” Rosalee explained. “I may go to Mary’s and wait for him if he won’t let me go with him.” She was wearing her riding skirt, but she had a dress she wanted to be married in, a loan from Mrs. Parnell, in a bag she hung on her saddle horn.

“We’ll find you. I’m sure the town will be buzzing with all the news,” Sylvia laughed. “If there’s anything you want me to know, leave word with Mr. McCloud.”

“I might have two dresses by the time we come to town. Mrs. Parnell said I’d be pretty in some green she has.” Odell fairly danced with excitement and wasn’t at all unhappy about being left behind.

“You be a help to Mrs. Parnell, honey.” Rosalee hugged her little sister and held her hand out to Cooper. “Good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Miss Spurlock. The next time we see you, you’ll be Mrs. Horn.” He smiled widely. “It’d be worth the ride to town to kiss the bride. I reckon I could do it now—”

“Stop teasing, Cooper,” his mother scolded. “You’re making Rosalee blush.”

Logan watched with an amused smile. He helped Rosalee mount, then held out his hand to Sylvia. Their eyes caught and held with secret understanding; both were smiling faintly.

“Thank you for . . . everything, ma’am.”

“You and Rosalee are welcome here anytime.”

“We’ll sure have to come back and get this young lady if we miss connections in town.” He reached down and hoisted a giggling Odell in the air, then set her on her feet. “She’ll be just as pretty as you thought she would be in that yellow, ma’am. I reckon we’ll have to build a fence around her in a few years to keep out the suitors until she’s grown.”

Odell giggled and blushed and dug the toe of her shoe in the ground, but she clung to his hand and looked at him with adoring eyes.

Cooper stepped forward and held out his hand. “Now don’t be so stiff-necked and proud, Logan, that you go riding right down the middle of town. Take that back trail I told you about and come in from the side. You’ll see the church. The preacher’s house is right beside it. You know I’d be more than glad to go along if you just say the word.”

“Thanks, but I don’t intend to face up to anyone with Rosalee along. We’ll go to the preacher and see what he has to say. It goes against the grain to take the back way, but like Case Malone said, pride doesn’t keep you from getting a hole in the head.”

Cooper laughed. “Case said it right.”

Logan clasped his hand warmly and his eyes lingered on his face for a long while before they flicked to Sylvia standing proudly beside her son. She knew what he was feeling and returned his smile warmly.

As they rode away from the ranch, Brutus trailing Mercury, Rosalee couldn’t help thinking about the difference in this leave-taking and the one from the Haywards’ when they had stopped by for her sister. Oh, bless Sylvia, her heart cried. She turned and waved happily to Sylvia and Odell, then held her hand out to Logan. He grasped it tightly.

“I just want to touch you,” she said. “It seems years since we’ve been alone.”

“To me, too. As soon as we’re out of sight I’m going to kiss you.”

“Let’s hurry, then!” She snatched her hand back, put her heels to the roan, and raced ahead of him. In a thick stand of pines she drew up and waited.

Watching her, Logan’s heart swelled with love and pride. He rode up beside her and pulled her from the saddle to sit across his thighs. Holding the reins of both horses in his hand, he held her tightly with the other. Her arms went about him and her mouth, soft and eager for his kisses, found his in mutual hunger.

“Darling!” Her mouth moved a fraction and the word came from the center of her being. Her lips sought his mouth again and conveyed the deep heat in her body which was about to flare out of control.

“My love!” His voice was hoarse and breathy, his eyes were close and flared with warmth. Little flecks of light seemed to float in their depths.

His arms, like rigid bands, held her, and she could feel the evidence of his want, firm and hard, against her. She throbbed with response, with an urgent need to be filled. He kissed the dewy sweetness of her mouth time and again.

“We’d better stop this,” he moaned into her open mouth.

“Why?” she asked and giggled. “I love it, and I love you—”

His hand moved over her breast and his lips nibbled at hers. “Because . . . when I have you again it will be as my wife.”

Rosalee felt her breath catch in her throat, felt her insides warm with pleasure as she looked into his dark quiet face and eyes now filled with love for her. Love and tenderness welled in her. She lifted her hand and held it to his cheek.

“Darling . . .” The whispery word sounded as if part of the wind. “I know you’re worried about taking me into town. Don’t think about it and don’t worry. I love you, and nothing anyone says or does will keep me from being with you always.”

“It could be worse than at the Haywards’.”

Her arms encircled his neck. “If it is, we’ll face it together.”

He kissed her again and at that moment the temptation to take her back East where they could live a more peaceful existence pressed down upon him. The thought nagged at him while he pulled her horse close so she could climb back into the saddle.

They rode side by side when the trail permitted, and at other times Logan took the lead, Brutus always a dozen yards ahead. They rode cautiously on the downward trail that ran along a narrow ridge through a stand of close-growing trees, blow-downs and large granite boulders almost hidden by thick brush. The land to the right of them sloped steeply to the river below. It seemed to Rosalee they were the only living things in all this vastness until a large brown bird glided lazily into the air, gradually circling down to the river.

Late in the morning the dog stopped and froze. Logan pulled up his reins and Rosalee moved beside him. They heard heavy crashing in the brush ahead and Logan slipped the rifle from the saddle scabbard. Crossing the trail ahead were two furry black bear cubs, an enormous black mother bear sauntering along behind them.

“The little ones are . . . adorable,” Rosalee laughed softly. “The mother looks so calm and patient.”

“She may look calm, but angered she’s deadly. She could tear you to pieces with one mighty swipe of her paw. You notice Brutus knows enough to keep his distance and to keep quiet.”

“I’ve seen them from a distance but never up close.”

“You’re lucky. These mountains are full of them.”

Rosalee shivered and inched closer to Logan. They sat quietly until they could no longer hear the crackle of brush as the bears passed through. Logan waited a moment longer, then moved on down the trail and soon they left the ridge behind. The ground leveled out and the going was easier for the horses. The river moved alongside with a pleasant gurgling sound, but soon they left it to take the trail Cooper had told them to take to approach the town from the east.

As they rode down out of the hills toward the town, Logan thought about the preacher and Cooper’s reaction. If he will, he’d said. He decided that he would first speak to the preacher alone and save Rosalee the unpleasantness if the man were reluctant to marry them. However reluctant, Logan thought, the preacher would do the job. If Logan had to threaten the man, and he probably would have to do so, he was determined that it not spoil Rosalee’s wedding day.

They had circled to the east and now approached the back of the stores that lined the dusty street. Logan slipped the rawhide thong from the hammer of his six-shooter and freed the Winchester in its scabbard for easy use, if needed. A few horses were tied behind the stores. A slow smoke rose from the chimney of the eating house. All was quiet; the town was lazing in the noonday sun. Logan motioned Brutus back and led the way to the rear of the mercantile where they dismounted. Logan tied the horses and commanded Brutus to stay with them. He took the bag containing Rosalee’s dress from the saddle horn and ushered her into the back door of the store.

They stood just inside the door and waited while Mr. McCloud escorted a woman to the front porch. Logan was sure the man knew they were there by the way he’d grasped her elbow and by the stream of flattery that fell from his lips to keep her attention. When he was rid of the woman he stuck his head out the door and looked up and down the sidewalk before he took a sign from the nail beside the door and hung it on the doorknob. He closed the door firmly and walked rapidly to the back of the store.

“Howdy, folks.” He held his hand out to each of them. He didn’t seem to be the least surprised to see them together.

“I was wondering, Mr. McCloud, if Rosalee could stay here for a little while. I’ve an errand that shouldn’t take over half an hour,” Logan said after he and Rosalee had exchanged greetings with the storekeeper.

“You can wait in my room, that is, if you don’t mind the mess, ma’am.”

“But, Logan—”

“You need someplace to change your dress and I’ll not be gone long.”

“I could do it at the parsonage,” she protested gently. She placed her hand on his arm and smiled into his face.

His answering smile lent a fleeting warmth to his features. “I think it best if you do it here,” he told her.

“I hung out the ‘closed for dinner’ sign. C’mon and join me for soda crackers and cheese.” Mr. McCloud brought a cloth-wrapped bundle from beneath the counter and dipped his hand into the cracker barrel. “I usually noon here at the store and supper at Mable’s. Have a hunk of cheese, ma’am.”

“I will, and thank you. Logan and I are going to be married today.” She looked at Logan and his slow smile once more altered the stern cast of his face.

“I kinda figured that—changin’ your dress, goin’ to the parsonage, and all. Congratulations, Horn. If I wasn’t so damn old I’d a been after her myself. Help yourself to the crackers, now.”

Rosalee munched the cheese slowly, trying not to gobble. It had been several years since she’d had cheese and it was so good. This was her wedding day, she thought dreamily. It wasn’t at all like the day she’d dreamed about—wearing a beautiful white dress and walking into the church on her father’s arm. But marrying Logan made up for everything. Her eyes lingered lovingly on his tall, buckskin-clad figure. He had removed his hat and his shiny black hair sprang back from his forehead and hung almost to his shoulders. His face was clean shaven and the soft, black mustache that hung down on each side of his mouth made him look more Spanish than Indian. But Indian he was, with those high cheekbones and fathomless black eyes. It was strange, but she already felt married to him, and the ceremony wasn’t so important to her anymore.

“Young Ben was in a few days back. I tried to give him the money I got for your pa’s birds, but he said leave it here and you’d take it out in trade. Sure a shame about your folks getting burned out. Some folks kinda got up in arms about it. Wasn’t no call for Clayhill to do that.”

“How is Ben? Did he manage to get away with some of our things? How about the cow?”

“From what I hear he did. He appears to be fine. He was chipper and seemed to think Horn, here, and Case Malone were goin’ to set Clayhill back on his ear. He’d grown up some since I saw him last. I hear you’ve got a good sized herd comin’ in,” he said to Logan, and sliced off another hunk of cheese with a bowie knife.

Logan’s brows described a puzzled arc. “How did you know?”

The storekeeper laughed. “Not much happens here that people don’t know about. Even Adam Clayhill’s gone out to look ’em over.”

“The hell you say!”

“He only took a couple of men with him, so I don’t figure he’s ready to do nothin’ yet.”

Logan chuckled. “If he starts anything with the men driving that herd, he’s going to think he’s been tied in a poke with half a dozen wildcats. They don’t back down once they’ve set out to do something. The Clayhill name’ll mean nothing to them, and it’d make no difference if it did.”

“I never saw the town so full of drifters.” McCloud looked meaningfully at Logan and shook his head. “Sure a lot of trash in town.”

Logan nodded, aware of what the storekeeper was trying to say without alarming Rosalee.

“Have you heard how Case Malone is doing?” Rosalee asked.

“He’s doin’ fine. Him and Mrs. Gregg came in and got hitched yesterday.”

“They got married? I’m so glad! I told you they loved each other,” she said to Logan.

“It took some persuadin’ for the preacher to marry what he considered a fallen woman,” McCloud said with a chuckle. “But after Case caught hold of that high stiff collar of his and threatened to choke the life outta him, he ‘saw the light,’ as he’s so fond of sayin’. The pious fraud ought to be run out of town,” he added with a disgusted snort.

“What if he doesn’t want to marry us?” Rosalee’s worried eyes sought Logan’s. The thought had occured to her before, but she had shoved it to the back of her mind.

“It doesn’t matter if he wants to or not, sweetheart. He’ll do it and he’ll give us a proper paper to prove it. Don’t worry.” He handed her the bag with her dress. “Go on into Mr. McCloud’s room and get ready for your wedding. I’ll be back for you in half an hour and we’ll see what the preacher man has to say.”

The storekeeper went out the back door with Logan. “He won’t want to do it.”

“I’m aware of that, but I figure to do my persuading beforehand.”

“Watch yourself.”

“I figured to ride the roan up to the preacher’s house. Do you mind if I put my horse in your livery shed?”

“Good idea. That horse is a dead giveaway. So’s the dog.”

“Brutus will stay with Mercury.” Logan lengthened the stirrups on the saddle and mounted the roan.

Mr. McCloud stood in the back door of his store and watched Logan lead the spotted stallion into the livery shed. He waited until he came out again and headed toward the preacher’s house before he went back inside. He shook his gray head in sympathy for what Logan had to endure because of his Indian blood.

“That man’s in for a bad time with that pious, sonofabitchin’ preacher,” he mumbled to himself. “But if anybody can scare the shit out of him, he can.” He grinned. “I wish I’d gone along to see it.”