Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (40 page)

“What’s horny?”

“Me. This.” He grasped her buttocks and slid her up and down over his arousal.

“Oh!” She giggled softly. “Will we wear it out?”

“I’m going to do my best to try.”

*  *  *

Mara and Pack were having breakfast when the twins, grinning like a couple of cats, came through the back door.

“What a ya think ’bout all this stuff, Mara Shannon? Ain’t Pack just the limit? We had to help unload it.” Travor helped himself to a flapjack, rolled it in his fingers, and straddled one of the new chairs. “Goldurn, Pack. Ya must a bought out ole Baker’s store.” He shoved the rolled flapjack in his mouth.

Pack grinned. Mara could not help but notice that when he did, it spread a warm light into his eyes. She found herself beaming with pleasure.

“He’s that all right. Help yourself, Trell. There’s another flapjack.” Mara was pleased the boys were so comfortable with her that they made themselves at home.

“Willy said we’d better get our butts on up here ’n help scatter all this stuff out cause he wasn’t goin’ to.”

“You tell Willy that I’m cooking doughnuts today, and unless he helps he can’t have any. Travor, you rapscallion!” Mara reached to swat the hand that was grabbing another flapjack. “Save one of those for Trellis. I’ll swear! Filling you up is like pouring sand down a rat hole.”

“He ate six down at the cookshack,” Trellis grumbled.

“Steamboat’s ain’t as good as Mara Shannon’s.”

“How is Steamboat?” Mara rose to get the coffeepot.

“All right. Just like nothin’ ever happened. Pack, is Sam goin’ to give me ’n Trav fifty silver dollars?”

“That’s what he said. I’m thinking Sam isn’t a man to go back on his word.”

Pack wrapped his arm about Mara’s thighs when she came to fill his cup. She leaned against him. Trellis watched as his brother patted his wife’s leg.

“Lordy! I’m sure glad you two made up. Willy said Mara Shannon was mad as a cow with her tit caught in the fence. He said she was red-eyed and spittin’ nails on the way to Charlie’s. He said—”

“Willy’s got a big mouth,” Pack said and watched Mara move away from him. “What are you boys going to do with your money?”

“That’s what we want to talk to ya about. Me ’n Trav are wonderin’ if we’d have enough to buy us a mare. We figure we could put her to your big gray ’n start us a horse herd. Whata ya think, Pack?”

Pack looked directly at Mara and caught her smiling eyes before he looked back at his brother’s expectant face.

“I can’t find anything wrong with that. You know those three mares I brought in are going to foal. I’ve been wondering if you fellows would want to partner up with me. You take on the care of the horses, and one of the foals will be yours. In a few years you’ll have a herd of good, blooded horses.”

Disbelieving, Trellis and Travor sat with their mouths open. Travor came out of his trance first. “Ya mean it?”

“Well, for the love of Pete and the sake of Pud!” Trellis shouted, then echoed his brother. “Ya mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. We’ll need help running this ranch, won’t we, honey?” He grabbed Mara’s hand as she passed and pulled her down onto his lap.

“Sure. And you know what else? I know two young men who are going to have to learn to read, write, and cipher. Else they’ll not be able to do business at the bank, read bills of sale or write out money orders. If they can’t do those things they’ll be cheated blind.”

Travor got to his feet. “You’re right, Mara Shannon. When can we start?”

Mara slid off Pack’s lap. “Not until all this stuff is sorted out, put away, or stacked in a pile to go back to the store.” She reached to jerk a strand of Pack’s hair and smiled lovingly into his eyes. He pulled her back down on his lap and kissed her.

“Ahh . . . mush! Come on, Trell. When they get done slobberin’ all over each other we’ll come back ’n help.”

The back screen door slammed. “In a year or two they’ll find out that kissing can be a very pleasant pastime.” Mara giggled happily.

“So pleasant that I might spend the entire day doing it.” Pack looked at her with a consuming tenderness in his dark eyes. She gazed back at him, the ache of love in hers, and shook her head slowly. He stilled her head between his two hands. “What does that mean, Mrs. Gallagher?”

“It means that you’re not going to charm me into sitting on your lap all day and dallying with you. We’ve got work to do. I’m dying to see what’s in all those bundles.”

He kissed her quick and hard. “All right, but as soon as night comes you’re going to get it, my girl,” he threatened.

She ran a finger over his hard mouth. “I hope so.” Her eyes sparkled at him though thick lashes.

Their laughter mingled.

*  *  *

The days slipped past in a flurry of work as Mara arranged the new furnishings, put away the new dishes and cooking pans, hung the mirrors and comb case, filled the new lamps, spread a beautiful new cloth and placed the caster set in the center of the table. Pack and the boys tore the boards from the windows and put in the new glass, letting more light and sunshine into the house. Riley and Aubrey put the new screening on the front and back doors. The new bedsheets, blankets and towels were stacked neatly in the bureau drawers.

It was a busy time. Mara spent two hours each afternoon teaching the boys. Travor was especially bright when it came to reading. His inquisitive mind absorbed the printed word. Trellis, the methodical one, took to ciphering, and in a week’s time was far ahead of his brother. Penmanship came hard for both boys, but they tried.

The boys were a joy to work with, and Mara couldn’t have loved them more if they were her own flesh and blood. At times she couldn’t help but think how different they were from Cullen. Pack and Mara had heard nothing of his whereabouts, nor was he mentioned by Aubrey or the twins.

Mara loved working in her house, and with the twins, but each day she looked forward to the time after supper. This was her special time with her husband. They usually went to the creek and bathed together. Afterward they sat on the porch, fingers entwined, and Pack told her tales of his trips into the mining camps. She told him little anecdotes about her life at the school. They retired early to the room upstairs, made love and slept in each other’s arms.

Mara had not thought there was so much happiness in the whole world. She felt laughter bubbling inside her at the most unexpected times. The joy of living flowed in her blood and smiles of pure delight curved her mouth. It was so wonderful to love and be loved. Pack filled every corner of her heart. She felt she knew him as well as she knew herself.

The warm afternoon breeze was drying the clothes Mara had hung on the line. Humming a tune, she checked the meat she had boiling in the pot, covered the fresh loaves of bread with a clean cloth, and wandered out onto the back porch. She saw Aubrey come out of the tack house carrying a harness on his shoulder and go into the shed. Pack had said Aubrey was not drinking, that he had taken an interest in the horses and in keeping the bridles and harnesses repaired.

She stepped off the porch and strolled down the path toward the barn, something she wouldn’t have dared do when Cullen was around. The heavy double doors of the barn were closed, but as she neared, she could hear Willy’s voice. The words were inaudible, but the tone was complaining. Mara smiled. The old man would die before he admitted it, but he loved Pack. And because of that Mara had become fond of him.

Mara reached for the heavy hasp to pull open the door.

“Plop, plop, plop.” The sound came at regular intervals. She paused to listen. “Plop, plop, plop.”

“Spread yore feet, duck left, duck right, duck right,” Willy sang in a monotonous tone.

“Plop. Plop.”

“Ah, hell, ya’ll get knocked on yore ass if ya stand flat-footed.”

She swung the door open a crack and slipped inside. It was stifling hot in the barn. The only breeze and the only light came in through the small door at the back. Pack, stripped to the waist and wearing old britches cut off above the knee, was pounding at something in a gunnysack that hung from the rafters. Sweat was rolling down his face like he’d been in a heavy downpour. His arms, shoulders and back were wet and glistening. He pounded at the heavy sack with his fists, bobbing to the left, to the right. Willy sat on an overturned barrel with a straw in his mouth.

Pack stopped pounding on the gunnysack, opened his hands and flexed his fingers.

“How be that thumb?” Willy asked.

“It’s all right.”

Holding his arms together chest-high, Pack squatted down. He must have done fifty squats before he jumped up and caught hold of a bar suspended on two ropes. The muscles in his shoulders and arms rippled as he lifted his weight until his chin was even with the bar. He did this until it was harder and harder for his arms to lift him.

“This place is hotter than a two-bit whore,” he exclaimed breathlessly when he dropped to his feet and wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forefinger.

“Yore own fault fer keepin’ the doors shut.” Willy got off the barrel mumbling something about Pack not having any backbone anymore and threw him a towel. “Ya ain’t got—” He turned to see Mara standing beside the door. “Ah shitfire!” he muttered.

Pack wiped his face on the towel and threw it back at Willy. The old man jerked his head in the direction where Mara was standing. Pack turned his head and his eyes came to rest on Mara’s white face. He went toward her.

“Hello, sweetheart. It’s too hot for you to be in here.”

“What are you doing, Pack? What in the world are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just trying to get some of my strength back. I’ve been idle for a long time.”

“But why were you fighting that sack?”

“It’s a good way to build muscles, sweetheart. Go on back to the house. I’ll be up soon and we’ll go down to the creek.” Pack pushed open the heavy barn door.

Mara walked back to the house. A puzzled frown drew her brows together. Pack hadn’t wanted her to know what he was doing or he wouldn’t have been in the barn with the doors closed.

In a corner of her mind, a little uneasiness began to grow.

NINETEEN

Arms entwined, Sam and Emily walked along the path beside the creek. Ahead of them something scuttled in a thicket. An owl glided between the branches searching for a meal. A crescent moon rode high in the sky, but they didn’t notice it. They came to a grassy clearing where fireflies flitted their brief lives away. Far away a night bird called. Sam tilted his head to listen. The call came again and he relaxed.

“Pack and Mara Shannon were so angry at each other the day they were here that they hardly spoke,” Emily said thoughtfully.

“Pack wouldn’t take her to town because we wasn’t sure what was waitin’ for us. They’ve straightened it out by now.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I’m afraid there’s trouble ahead for them. Pack’s afraid to take her to town knowing that she’ll be snubbed because of him.”

“He ain’t the most popular man in town. I got to admit it. Ole Piedmont let me know what he thought ’bout him when I went to fetch him for the buryin’. He said a man who fought in a prize ring was a spawn of the devil, or somethin’ like that. Pious old bastard! I never wanted to punch anybody so bad.”

“The Laramie Ladies, as they are called, are feeling pretty proud of themselves because for the first time in history some of them served on a jury. They marched in protest against the last fight. Reverend Piedmont’s wife was one of the leaders.”

“That’ll not keep their men at home. They’ll pay to see the fight and they’ll bet on it.”

“The last time they carried signs saying gambling was as evil as demon rum. And that Pack was taking the bread from the mouths of innocent babes.”

Sam chuckled. “I bet that was some parade.”

“Oh, it was. They had a band and everything. Charlie said they sang hymns and carried a little girl whose father had gambled away the family home, causing the mother to turn to drink and wander into the mountains never to return for the child.”

“They really get carried away, don’t they?”

“They’ll give Mara Shannon the cold shoulder. I feel bad about it. I wish I hadn’t heard you and Charlie talking about the fight.”

“Pack agreed to it because it’s a sure, quick way of earnin’ some money. He wants to buy in with me ’n Charlie. He’s confident he can win. Even if he don’t win he’ll get a sizable purse.”

“I wonder if he’s told Mara Shannon.”

“Honey, she’ll either stand by her man or she won’t. There’s nothin’ we can do. I talked to a young preacher today. His church isn’t big or fancy as ole Piedmont’s, but I think you’ll like him.”

“I will if you do.”

“Tomorrow we’ll go in ’n talk to him. Then about this time next week we’ll be wed. I’d like to do it afore my friend goes back to Saint Louis.”

“I’d like Mara Shannon and Pack to be there.”

“After we talk to the preacher and make the date, I’ll ride over and tell them.”

They heard a plop as a frog jumped from the bank into the water.

“We’ll have to come down here sometime ’n throw out a line.” Sam’s arm across her shoulders pulled her to him. “Right now fishin’ isn’t on my mind.”

“I’m glad.” She lifted her lips for his kiss.

Her mouth was warm, sweet. She parted her lips, yielded and accepted the wanderings of his. He raised his head and looked down at her, his lips just inches from hers.

“I’ve been so damn lucky, I’m scared, Emily Rose. I found you ’n I’ll have the means of takin’ care of ya.”

“No more lucky than I am, Sam darling. The dearest, most wonderful man in the world loves me in spite of what happened to me. I’ll have the family I always dreamed of having.”

Their lips met in joint seeking. She rose on her toes to press her mouth hungrily to his. His hands roamed over her, caressing every inch of her back and sides. One hand shaped itself over her breast, the other flattened against her buttocks and held her to him.

“I sure like kissin’ you, holdin’ you. It’s goin’ to be hard waitin’ to make you mine.” Sam lowered his eyes and found hers, sparkling like twin stars.