Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (24 page)

“I’ve got one more favor to ask, Sam. Ride after that preacher and bring him back, will you? Get him back here if you have to bring him at gunpoint.”

“Well, shore, Pack. But—”

“He’s got a marriage service to read, but don’t tell him that. Just bring him back. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with the marshal. He rode on ahead.”

After Sam left, Pack beckoned to Charlie. The brother and sister came up onto the porch.

“Is Mara Shannon getting ready?” Emily asked.

Pack stepped aside to let her enter the house. “She’s not going. She’s in the parlor.”

The thump, thump of Charlie’s peg leg on the floor echoed loudly as they entered the room.

“Mara Shannon?”

“I’m here, Emily.”

“I’d love for you to visit for awhile. Please say you’ll come.”

“Thank you, but if I leave my house, there’ll not be a stick of anything left when I return.”

“But . . . you can’t stay alone out here. Pack can tell you that.”

“He has. I’ll not be alone.”

“Mara Shannon asked me to marry her.” Pack’s voice had a sneer in it. “Sam’s gone to fetch the preacher back. Funerals and weddings are much the same. A man dies and is put in the ground; a man weds and he’s got a millstone around his neck for the rest of his life.”

“A thousand acres of land is some millstone,” Mara said dryly.

“You’d wed the devil himself to stay here.”

“That’s most likely what I’m doing, but I’ll survive. My father’s dream was to build a home for his family on land to call their own. He worked from dawn till dark to get it. I’ll not leave my land, and I’ll not leave my house sitting idle to be ravaged even if I have to wed you to keep it.”

Pack swore. “You’d be the one to be ravaged by that bunch in the bunkhouse!”

Mara sat on the chair, as prim and proper as if she were sitting on a church pew. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her ankles were crossed neatly. Emily moved toward her. Mara took her hand to guide her to the chair beside her. It suddenly occurred to Mara that she may have broken her friend’s heart, and she felt a wave of regret that eased when her friend spoke.

“You and Pack were made for each other. I knew that as soon as I met you,” Emily said softly.

Mara bent forward to look into her face. “Emily? Are you sure you don’t mind? I was afraid that—”

“Mind? Oh, you thought that I was in love with Pack?” Emily laughed. “I do love him . . . in a way. But Pack and I are friends, nothing more.”

Mara glanced at Pack. He was rubbing his hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration that was becoming familiar. He was still angry and no doubt regretting his hasty decision. Emily might not be in love with him, but what about Pack? Did he love her? Did he think that as long as he couldn’t have Emily, he’d take her?

“Well,” Mara said flippantly, in spite of the unease that made her stomach flutter. “I didn’t want to buy him away from you. He agreed to marry me for half of my land.”

Mara knew that she was being unnecessarily blunt. She hated herself for saying it, but it was best that Charlie and Emily knew that this was not a love match, but strictly a business deal. If Emily didn’t want her friendship knowing that, it was better to know it now.

Pack’s mouth flattened into an unyielding line. He wanted to lift the stubborn little redhead out of the chair and shake her until her teeth rattled. God almighty! Was he letting himself in for a lifetime of misery? She would never see him as anything except a rough, uneducated teamster who married her for her land. Hell! What was he to do? Ride out and leave her alone? He couldn’t do that even if he hated her. She was Shannon’s daughter, for Christ’s sake. He would do his best to protect her from the scum who would have her, but who would protect her from . . . him?

“There must be a way around this if neither of you want this marriage.” Charlie finally spoke. “People are coming in on the train every week looking for a place to settle. You’d not have any trouble finding a family that wants a little land.”

“I’m thinking Mara Shannon isn’t willing to give up any of
her
land to homesteaders. What good would that do anyway? She’d still be here alone and Cullen would run off the homesteaders.” Pack’s mouth snapped shut with a soft click of his teeth.

“You could find someone to come stay with her,” Charlie persisted.

“Another woman? Ha!” The snort accompanied a venomous glance at Mara. “That would only give the bunkhouse crowd two women to sport with.”

“A man and his wife—”

“I’ll not have strangers living in my house,” Mara said firmly. “If Pack wants to crawfish out of the deal, he only has to say so.”

“There are times when I’d like to beat your butt!”

Pack stood over her with his thumbs hooked in his belt. His voice carried a real threat, but she was determined not to be humbled by him. If she was sure about one thing it was the certainty that he would not hurt her—for her father’s sake, of course. So she looked up at him defiantly.

“You’ve a habit of repeating yourself, Pack. You’ve said that before. And,” she added with a lift of her brows, “a few other things that I’ve not forgotten.”

A low rumble of laughter escaped Charlie. It was one of the few times Mara had heard his laugh. The insufferable man! How dare he laugh at her!

“I fail to see any humor in the situation,” she said coolly.

“I’m sorry, Mara. I was just thinking that there’ll not be a dull moment at the McCall ranch from here on out.”

“The
Gallagher
ranch,” Pack corrected firmly, his dark eyes boring into Mara’s, daring her to contradict him.

The Gallagher ranch?
Dear God, what had she gotten herself into?

The sound of boots on the porch and words of protest from the preacher told her it was too late now to consider another alternative.

The preacher was inside the house for a total of ten minutes. During that short time, Mara’s life was changed forever. She was no longer Mara Shannon McCall. She was Mara Shannon Gallagher. She stood beside Pack, his hand holding tightly to hers as if he thought she would flee, while the sputtering preacher pronounced them man and wife. Sam had returned to the buggy where Mrs. Piedmont waited impatiently and brought the folded leather envelope with the blank marriage and death documents. The marriage paper was filled out and signed. Emily and Charlie signed as witnesses.

Pack shoved a few bills at the preacher.

“Register this in town. I’ll be in next week to check to see if you’ve done it. And keep your mouth shut about it. Understand?”

The preacher fled the house and the men followed to see him on his way.

“I can’t believe I’ve done this, Emily.” Mara stood in the parlor shaking her head as if she were in a daze and spoke huskily, not quite sure her voice would work. “It’s not at all like the wedding I dreamed of having. I . . . I didn’t even change my dress. I’m still wearing funeral clothes.”

“Ah, Mara Shannon. I know how you feel, but sometimes things are taken out of our hands. It’s said that some of the best decisions we make in our lifetime are spur-of-the-moment decisions. Pack is terribly fond of you and wants what’s best for you.”

“Fond of my land, you mean.” The sound that came from Mara was something between a snarl and a jeering laugh. She lifted her hands to her hair and slid her fingers along her scalp to loosen it from the pins. “Better Pack Gallagher than Cullen McCall,” she said, then added tiredly, “What’s done is done. I’ll make the best of it.”

“Pack will be . . . gentle with you. He is such a kind man for all his rough ways.”

“What do you mean, gentle with
me?
Oh, you think that we’ll— No! Absolutely not! He understands that this is not
that
kind of marriage.” Mara’s face had turned brick red, and her mouth clamped shut so hard that her teeth clicked. “He’ll keep his distance or I’ll shoot him.”

“You wouldn’t do
that.
”

“Oh yes I would.” Mara had to fight to make her voice sound convincing. She knew as well as she’d ever known anything that she’d not shoot Pack Gallagher, regardless of what he did or did not do. “I want you to take a pie and some of the meat home, Emily. It’ll just take a minute for me to put them in a basket for you.”

Mara had a great need to be alone. Within the last few minutes she had taken a step that would change her life forever, and the enormity of it was making itself known to her as her mind swam back to reality. She escaped to the kitchen, leaned against the wall, and covered her face with her hands.

*  *  *

When Pack went with Charlie to bring up the wagon, Sam stepped back into the house. He had not had a private word with Emily all day. He stood hesitantly inside the room with his hat in his hand, feeling like a bashful schoolboy.

“Miss Emily?”

“Sam? Is Charlie ready to go?”

“Not yet. I just thought I’d . . . tell ya he’ll be along soon.”

Emily drew in a long breath and stood perfectly still. When she heard him coming toward her, a smile lighted her face. She held out her hand and felt a fierce pleasure when he grasped it and placed her palm against his chest. She filled her lungs with the scent that was typical of him, pine, leather, tobacco. She loved the size of him, the strength of his hand, the heavy beat of his heart.

“I was afraid I’d not get to talk to you again. Oh, Sam, I never wanted to be able to see as badly as I do right this minute.”

Sam raised her hand to his lips. “Ah, Emily Rose, I’m not much to look at.”

“Oh, but you are!”

“I may be leavin’ here soon. There’s not been a place I wanted to come back to since I went home that first time after the war till now. I want to come back to you, Emily Rose. I’ll have somethin’ to offer when I come.”

“You don’t have to have anything but yourself,” she whispered with tears in her voice.

“I’ve got to be able to give ya at least as good as ya got now.”

“I don’t need much, but you—”

“Yore brother’s right to be lookin’ out fer ya like he does. When I come back, I’ll tell him I want to take over the lookin’ after ya.”

“Oh, Sam! Do you mean it? Are you sure?”

“I was never more sure a anythin’ in my life.”

“Will you come to see me before you go?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do! Oh, I do!”

“I hear the wagon comin’. Can I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you would.”

“Sweet, sweet Emily Rose.” His voice was husky and intimate.

Slowly he bent to brush her lips with his. Then his arms slipped around her, pressing her body to the length of his. His lips were warm, sweet and moved over hers with gentle strength. The tip of his tongue teased her lips until she sighed, giving herself up to his kiss with sensual abandon, wanting, needing to increase the pressure. She felt his breath against her ear and a shiver of delight raced down her spine. This was Sam, her Sam, her love. His touch was more wonderful than any dream she had ever had of a lover’s touch. Her arms tightened around him and his around her until she could hardly breathe.

He drew in a shaky breath when he raised his head. “Ya taste as sweet as a cool mountain spring.”

She reached up and kissed him with trembling lips. The freedom to do so went to her head like heady wine. “You taste good too,” she whispered before kissing him again.

“Emily, sweet Emily Rose, I like saying your name.” His voice was a caress as sweet as his kiss.

Sam felt as if his heart would leap out of his breast. But over its pounding he heard the jingle of harnesses.

“Charlie’s out front with the wagon.”

He placed a warm kiss on her parted lips, then, holding tightly to her hand, he led her out onto the porch and down the steps. Still holding her hand, he drew it up into the crook of his arm and covered it with his. This was his woman, and her brother might as well know it now. Come hell or high water, he intended to have her. He watched for Charlie and Pack’s reactions to the possessive way he held her close to him. Neither man appeared to notice.

Sam helped Emily up onto the wagon seat.

“Bye, Emily Rose. I’ll be over soon.” His words were for Emily, but he made sure that they reached Charlie too.

“Emily!” Mara came out of the house and ran lightly down the steps to the wagon. “Are you leaving already?”

“Charlie has chores to do before dark.”

“Thank you for coming. I couldn’t have managed without you.”

“I was glad to come, Mara Shannon. Now it’s your turn to come see me.”

Sam stuck out his hand to Charlie. “I’ll be over soon,” he repeated and looked the man in the eye.

Charlie took his hand, his sharp eyes narrowing as they held Sam’s steady gaze. Finally he nodded his head.

“You’ll be welcome, Sam.”

Pack saw the relief that slumped Emily’s shoulders, then the brilliant smile that lighted her face. Realization came to him slowly, but definitely. Sam and Emily had feelings for each other.
Lucky Sam.

“Bye, everybody,” Emily called, suddenly happier than she had been in her entire life. “Pack, as soon as you and Mara Shannon are settled, bring her over.”

“Take care of yourselves,” Pack said, without responding to the invitation. He drew back as the wagon began to roll.

Mara stood between the two tall men and watched the sister and brother ride away from the homestead. Now she was alone with this man, this stranger who was her husband. Never had she imagined it would come to this; never had she thought she’d be forced to give over the control of her life to a man like Pack Gallagher. She turned and went back to the house, her back straight, her head up, but the confident pose was completely superficial. Inside she was tied in knots.

She paused to look about the kitchen before she went up the stairs to the room above. Today she had married a man, joined her life to his until one of them died. There had not been a tender word, a kiss, nor a ring during the ceremony that had made them man and wife.

*  *  *

“Sam,” Pack said and walked a few paces across the circular drive to lean against the large oak tree with branches spreading almost to the edge of the porch. “I owe you, Sam. I’m obliged to you for standing by through this.”