Prairie Song (29 page)

“In a cabin I know.” She played with the bottles of creams in the box he’d brought. “You’ll have nothing to do but eat and sleep and let that scratchy dark stubble turn into a beard.”

“I can think of a few other things that might keep me busy.” Now his smile was widening and looked like it might settle in to stay for a while.

“Come here, wife, and let me give you an idea of what we might pass the time doing.” He lifted Cherish into his arms and carried her back to the small bed.

Her arms reached up for him as he lowered her. He slid atop her, letting her breasts flatten against his chest. “I love you, Cherish,” he whispered while his mind could still form thoughts. “I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

She pulled his mouth over hers and there was no more time for words, for he was taking her to the ecstasy of feeling where only he knew the way. She gave herself fully to the journey.

The buttons on her borrowed shirt popped and he mumbled, “I’m sorry,” against her lips, but, for the second time that night, there was no remorse in his words and no sign of protest in her response.

Grayson was so exhausted he hardly had the energy to remove his clothes and wash the smoke from his face and hands before he fell into the cramped little hotel bed. Sleep blanketed him the moment his head settled onto the pillow and this time not even an earthquake and a fire could have awakened him. He rested in dreamless sleep as the night passed and the fire of Hattie’s Parlor cooled.

It was full morning when he awoke. Every bone in his body felt as if it had been rearranged and needed to be snapped back into place. Slowly stretching, he turned toward the window to gauge the time by the sun.

A thin black shadow materialized on the open windowsill, as Grayson squinted and blinked away sleep.

“‘Mornin’ Yank.”

Grayson’s good mood vanished. “I thought I announced your death last night after the fire. Just my luck, you pick me to haunt.”

Brant swung his long legs from the window and stepped inside as if he’d been invited. “Don’t bother to thank me for carrying you out of the flames last night. If it hadn’t been for me they’d have dragged two bodies from the ashes this morning. Everyone in town is up the hill looking at the charred remains of Brant Coulter. Wart positively identified my body over an hour ago. Talk is he’s going to take the reward money and ask Miss Holliday to marry him.”

“She’ll spend his money and leave him.” Grayson laughed.

“Yeah, but he’ll have the time of his life for a while. And who knows, maybe it’ll work out for them. I know that fate has certainly dealt us two winning hands.” Brant pointed with his head toward the Yankee’s leg. “How’s the wound?”

“Only sore, and not fried, thanks to someone carrying me out. I won’t bother to thank you. You’re dead, remember? I don’t want to get caught being grateful to a ghost who, by the way, should have already disappeared.”

“About that disappearing part”—Brant looked directly at Grayson—”we got a few things to settle before I go. First, I guess you already figured, I’m taking Cherish with me.”

Grayson stared at the younger man, his eyebrow raising as he adopted the role of Cherish’s guardian. “You’ll marry her?”

Brant nodded. “I asked her on bended knee last night.” He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered the way she looked.

“And what did she say?”

Brant laughed. “She said she’d let me know when my beard grew.”

Grayson joined in the laughter. “She’s as stubborn as her aunt.”

“About her aunt?” Brant began, but Grayson silenced him with a raised hand.

“I don’t mind telling you I care for that woman. I plan on making her a Kirkland as soon as I can drag her, probably screaming and fighting, to the church.”

Nodding, Brant moved toward the window. “That’s all I needed to know.” He paused as he sat on the sill. “There’s a cabin an easy day’s ride east of here. Follow the stream that comes down from a horseshoe ridge. You’ll see it; I’ll leave a trail even a Yank could follow. Cherish and I will be there for a month or so, waiting while my beard grows. You’re both welcome.”

Grayson nodded. “If I know Maggie, she’ll want to see Cherish and there’d be hell to pay if I didn’t take her. I should be able to ride within a week. Look for us then.”

Brant tipped his hat. “So long, Yank. Try not to get killed while I’m on my honeymoon.”

“So long, stranger.” Grayson smiled, adding, “I’ll see you in a week. Meanwhile, I’m going to try not to get killed during
my
honeymoon.”

The thin black shadow vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Grayson was still smiling when Maggie pounded on his door moments later.

“Come in,” he growled.

Maggie opened the door and hurried in like a martyr with a mission. “I’ve come to check your bandages,” she announced, crossing the room and throwing his covers aside.

“Wait.” Grayson pulled at the covers.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting modest after all the times I’ve seen your body.”

Grayson laughed. “I thought you were doctoring, not looking.”

Maggie raised her proper little chin. “I was doing both. It’s not often a nurse gets to see such a mass of scars and wounds.”

Grayson surrendered and leaned back to allow her to work. His bandages smelled of smoke, but there was no longer any blood seeping from the wounds. The damage was healing nicely.

“How did you sleep last night, my Maggie?” Lord, she looked inviting this morning. All tied up in her proper dress with lace around the collar and cuffs—like a present just waiting to be opened.

“Stop calling me your Maggie.” She continued to wrap a clean dressing on his leg as if he were no more than a patient to her.

“You are my Maggie.” Grayson’s hand rested lightly on her knee. “What do I have to do to convince you that you belong to me and have since the first time I touched you? Marry me, woman, and let me give you a real only-ever home on a farm in Ohio. I’ve got more land than Bar and I could ever work and a house with more rooms than we need to rattle around in.”

Maggie raised her proud chin. “I can’t.” She shoved his hand from her knee.

Grayson bellowed like an angry bull. “If it’s because I’m from the North …”

Maggie stood and turned her back to him. “It isn’t because you’re a Yankee. That’s a handicap I could learn to live with.”

“Hell, woman, you say the word Yankee like it was ranked somewhere between a rattler and a skunk in your vocabulary. I think it’s generous of me never to mention that you’re from the South.”

She glared at him with a stare that would have driven most men to drink. “It’s not where we were born that has anything to do with it.”

“Then what?” She was doing it again, he thought. This woman would try the patience of God Almighty. If Job had had her as a wife, he never would have made it into the Bible.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve never heard the words,” she shouted back, “but I want a husband who loves me, not one who thinks I belong to him like some cow! I’ll live alone, thank you, before I’ll live without a loving man.”

Grayson’s sudden swing off the bed cost him dearly, but he was by her side before she had time to move away. “Is that what this is all about?” His words were still angry but his blue-gray eyes were tender. “I thought you knew I loved you. Hell, I’ve damn near got myself killed loving you.”

He pulled her against him. “I’ve never wanted anyone in my life the way I want you. Don’t you understand that you not only belong to me, but I belong to you? Hell, woman, I don’t just love you; I am part of you just as you’re a big hunk of me.”

Maggie pressed her lips together. “Stop yelling at me and stop swearing. I’ll not have a husband that yells and swears.”

Grayson smiled. “And I’ll not have any wife but you.” He kissed her gently. “I love you, Maggie. I’ve loved you since that first day we met and you fit so right at my side. I know that you were made for me. I feel it. God took a rib that protected my heart and made you. In doing so, he left my heart wide open. I want you with me for the rest of our lives. I want to eat every meal looking at your beautiful face across the table and sleep every night with you in the same bed.”

Maggie laughed. “You short-sighted Yankee, I’m not beautiful. You’re the only man, North or South, who ever said such a thing to me.”

“Then I’m the only man not blind,” Grayson whispered in her ear. “Marry me, Maggie.”

“Are you sure you want to settle down with a family?”

“I want to settle down with you and Bar,” he answered. “I’ll raise Bar just as if he were our own son. It’s time I went back to working the land like my people always have.”

“And what if there are more?”

“More what?” He loved the way she always whispered into his ear. When she wasn’t yelling at him, she had a way of giving him great pleasure.

“More children.”

“If God blessed us with children I’d be delighted, but, Maggie, it’s all right if he doesn’t.” He remembered Westley complaining about how Maggie couldn’t get pregnant.

She moved closer into his arms. “He already has,” she whispered. “So I guess I’d better marry you if I want to make you a respectable father.”

The joy that pierced through the huge man almost rocked him from his feet. He forgot all about his wounds as he pulled her into his powerful arms. Kissing her soundly, he tasted the passion he loved so dearly in this woman. She was the only one he’d ever met who could stand as an equal at his side and he planned to hold her forever. When he’d made both their hearts pound, he finally let her wiggle free.

“So we’re going to have a baby.” Grayson felt like his heart might explode with joy.

“Not just one. I plan on filling that house of yours in Ohio. And I’m a woman who gets what I set my mind to. So you can wipe that smug smile off your face.”

But Grayson didn’t stop smiling all day. He was still grinning that night when he watched Mrs. Grayson Kirkland remove her prim and proper dress and come to his bed.

She might see her only-ever home within the walls of a house, but his was sleeping right there in his arms.

Cherish bit the thread free from her needle and handed Brant’s trousers to him. “If you keep eating like you have this week, we’ll have to stop in Dallas for clothes.”

Brant winked at her. “It’s your cooking. I can’t remember ever sitting down to three meals a day. If we stay here another ten days, I may not fit through the door.”

Looking up at his handsome face, now framed with a dark, short beard, Cherish smiled. “I wouldn’t mind.” She moved into his arms easily and held him to her, wondering if she’d ever grow tired of feeling his heart against her own.

Life had become whole during these quiet days at the dugout … a time of healing the wounds … a calm after the storm. Daniel’s death and the Knights of the Golden Circle had left deep scars on Brant that only time would erase. But the fire of past events had forged a love too great for words, a love that would heal the longing in both their hearts.

There were times in the quiet stillness of predawn when Cherish lay beside Brant knowing that his life had become more precious to her than her very own. Forever did not hold enough hours to express her feelings. And now, as he looked down at her with his gentle eyes, she realized that she’d have to try and make him understand how much a part of her already belonged to him.

Brant tenderly kissed the top of her head. “I can’t believe you’re here with me.”

She snuggled closer. “I plan to be here always. Right here in your arms.”

“That’s a long time,” he whispered into her ear, loving the way she turned toward him.

Her lips were feather-light against his cheek. “Don’t worry, my outlaw. I’ll think of something to make the time pass.”

Brant laughed and lifted her off the floor.

He was almost to the bed when he heard the sound of horses in the distance. His muscles tightened around her as the old fear of losing her gripped his heart.

Cherish sensed his fear even before she heard the horses. “Finally, Maggie and Grayson have come.” She whispered the words as a prayer.

Brant lowered her legs and reached for his guns. “Too many horses,” he answered. “When I leave, lock the door and if there is any shooting, don’t open it no matter what.” His words were cold and hard, but his gaze was warm with love.

“There is no need for guns,” she answered as she laid her hand on his. “Trust me, Brant. People, even strangers, don’t always mean danger.”

Brant searched Cherish’s eyes for the trust he needed and slowly removed his hands from the weapons. If they were to start a new life together, a life without the shadow of his past, it was time to set his old fears aside.

They stepped from the dugout into the evening air, his hand almost crushing hers as he waited. Horses were splashing across the stream and any minute they’d break into the clearing. The old nightmare that she might yet see him die began to pollute the peace in his mind. If she were wrong, there would be time to dive for his guns. If she were right, he’d just taken his first step into the future.

A sharp yelp sounded as a boy emerged from the trees. “I won!” he shouted as he rode full force toward the house. His lack of skill was outweighed by his youthful enthusiasm.

For a moment Brant and Cherish remained frozen as Barfield galloped toward them. The boy was laughing and waving his hat in greeting, while his mount showed no sign of slowing. Brant stepped in front of Cherish without a thought for his own safety. His quick action startled the horse and the confused animal stomped to a halt.

Bar jumped from his horse so fast that Brant dropped to a knee in an attempt to break the boy’s fall. Bar nearly disappeared into a cloud of dust but straightened quickly, pulling away from Brant’s helping hands. “I’m a great rider, but I have a little trouble gettin’ down.”

Brant dusted off the boy. “It looked like a fine dismount to me.”

Bar looked up into the outlaw’s face. “Good to see you again, sir … I mean, stranger.” The boy smiled at his lie. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

Brant laughed. “No, we haven’t. My name’s Dan, Dan Coulter.”

As they shook hands, Maggie and Grayson emerged from the trees. Grayson led several horses behind him as he rode beside his mate. Within moments they were even with Brant, Cherish, and Bar.

“Tie the horses, son,” Grayson ordered as he pitched the rope to Bar.

The huge man lowered himself to the ground gingerly and turned to swing Maggie from her saddle. He seemed to pay no heed to her as she ordered him to be careful of his leg and to slow his pace. Still, Brant didn’t miss the way he leaned on her every other step, counting on her strength to keep him from limping.

Maggie and Cherish ran toward one another, laughing and crying at the same time.

“Welcome.” Brant moved to greet them, suddenly wondering when he’d ever used that word before. “I’m Dan Coulter and I’ve been waiting to meet Cherish’s Aunt Margaret. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

Maggie pulled herself away from Cherish and lifted her head to stare at the young man before her. “Well, I haven’t heard near enough about you, young man.” It would take quite a man to measure up to what she thought Cherish would need for a husband and she planned to inspect this one closely. “So,” she began without a smile, “you’re Dan Coulter. Not any kin to that outlaw Brant Coulter, are you?”

Brant forced his features to remain sober, which was more than Grayson was doing as he stood just out of Maggie’s line of vision. “No, ma’am,” Brant answered calmly. “I’ve heard of him though.”

Maggie walked nearer. “My husband tells me he thinks Father Daniel married the two of you the morning after the fire. Is that true?”

Brant darted a glance at the Yank and found him enjoying the interrogation far too much. The outlaw squared his shoulders. “Father Daniel tied us together and blessed our union.”

Cherish came to Brant’s aid. “This is the man I love, Aunt Margaret. The man I plan to spend the rest of my life loving, so stop trying to frighten him off.”

“She couldn’t,” Brant answered. “I know she’s only looking out for you, just as I plan to do from now on.”

Margaret relaxed and shifted her gaze to Cherish. “Well, being with this Coulter man certainly agrees with you. I’ve never seen you looking so happy.” Maggie turned back to Brant. “I’ve only a few more …”

“Ah … Dan,” Grayson interrupted. “Will you help me with the horses? Maggie has some news to tell Cherish and I’m sure she doesn’t want to wait any longer.”

“News?” Maggie touched her stomach and frowned, knowing it was too soon to tell anyone, even Cherish, about the baby. A respectable woman didn’t announce her pregnancy until she had to, and certainly not if the baby was ordered before the marriage.

Grayson winked. “About our wedding.”

His wife gave a sharp nod as if she’d been set back on track. She linked arms with Cherish and headed into the house, already filling her niece in on every detail since they’d parted.

Bar followed behind the two men as they moved off to water the horses. They hadn’t gone more than a few feet when Grayson reached back and pulled him up even with them. “My son walks with the men and not behind them.” His love for the boy sparkled in his every word.

When the trio reached the stream, Bar busied himself tending the herd. His pride in being called Grayson’s son lifted the boy a step closer to being a man.

As Grayson watched Bar moving the horses downstream, he pulled a tiny pack of brown paper from his vest pocket, unfolding the plain package carefully. “Listen, reb,” he began when he figured the boy was out of hearing range. “I figure I owe you one, so I bought Cherish a ring when I picked out Maggie’s. It may not be what you want, but it’ll last until the two of you are settled somewhere.”

Brant stared at the ring, wishing he’d thought of it. He made no effort to accept the gold band. No one had ever given him anything without wanting something in return. “What’s the price?”

Grayson poked his hat back with his thumb and narrowed his eyes. He’d not insult the outlaw by just giving the ring to him. “I’m afraid there is a great favor that comes with it. If you accept the ring, you have to make me a promise to take care of Bar and Maggie if anything ever happens to me. Not that I think it ever will now that I’ve got Maggie to keep an eye on me, but you’re the nearest to family I have, next to a cousin in Philadelphia.”

For an instant the last rays of the sun caught the gold of the ring in Grayson’s hand. Brant knew what the promise meant. He’d have obligations. He’d have family.

“Done.” Brant took the ring, unable to say more. He straightened and stood a little taller, realizing the responsibility and trust that went with such a bargain.

As the men walked back to the house, Cherish rushed toward them. She ran into Brant’s open arms as she always had, silently declaring her love.

The outlaw swung her around. When her feet finally touched ground, she turned to Grayson. “Maggie said she needs to check your bandages and see if the ride did any damage.” She winked at Brant. “We’ll wait out here until she’s finished.”

Grayson grumbled. “That woman is going to bandage me to death.” He turned toward the cabin, continuing to grumble to himself, but he was already smiling at the thought of being alone with Maggie for a few minutes.

Brant pulled Cherish back toward the trees. “I need to talk to you.” They walked arm in arm the short distance toward the shady quiet area beyond the cabin.

“I plan to correct a lie I just told your aunt. That woman is not someone I want to look straight in the face and tell any more lies than I have to.”

They were in the tall grass by the stream before he slowed. He knelt down by the spot where they’d first made love and pulled her beside him.

“Marry me,” he said.

Cherish giggled. “What, here?”

“Yes, right here, right now.”

He faced her as he captured her hands in his. “Marry me, Cherish.”

She saw the need in his dark eyes and nodded slowly.

He bent and kissed her hands as if in prayer, then raised his gaze to hers. “I take you this day for my wife,” he started, trying to remember words he’d heard somewhere long ago. “If I owned the world, you’d be all I treasured. I promise to love and protect you for as long as I live.”

The beauty of his commitment melted over her and she couldn’t have felt his words deeper if they’d been said in the finest church in the world. “And I promise to love you for as long as I live. I take you this day and all the days of my life to be my husband.”

Brant pulled the gold band from his pocket and slid it on her finger. A current of emotion and surprise at the sight of the ring surged through Cherish’s body.

“Forever, Mrs. Coulter,” he whispered.

“Forever,” she answered.

Several feet away, Maggie stood and lifted the bucket she’d been filling. “Amen,” she whispered as a tear trickled down her cheek.

An hour later at dinner, Maggie was silent. When the dishes were done, Cherish and Brant picked up their bedrolls to join an already sleeping Barfield in the barn.

“Good night,” Cherish whispered as she kissed Maggie’s cheek.

Suddenly Maggie was holding her like a frightened child. Grayson raised an eyebrow in question, but Cherish understood. She dropped the bedding and held onto Maggie, hugging her best friend for perhaps the last time, holding her tightly, as she’d held Maggie all her life, knowing that her aunt would need this hug to last a long, long time.

“I’ll miss you,” Maggie whispered in a voice that had suddenly lost all its hardness and direction.

“I know,” Cherish answered. “But remember, ties of love stretch but never break. I’ll be there in your heart, whenever you need me. Just as you will always be with me. My love will walk beside you, even though your place is with Grayson.”

Maggie raised her chin as her strength returned. “And you belong with this Coulter man.”

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Maggie turned and hugged Brant Coulter. The outlaw blushed for the first time in his life, while Grayson’s laughter filled the tiny cabin.