Running Wild (44 page)

Star sucked in her breath. “You couldn’t help it, Del, if
she wished to leave.”

“Perhaps she wouldn’t have left if I’d given her the
attention she so badly craved,” he said tightly. “Perhaps if I’d gone after her
. . . but I allowed my pride to overrule my heart, and I lost her. I lost my
marriage and, in the end, that self-same pride.” He sighed and lifted his head
to focus on her. His eyes were red, the shadows under them darker. “I wouldn’t
have you make the same mistake for all the world. I don’t know what’s come
between you and McGraw, but it is supremely ill-advised to allow pride to stand
in the way of love.”

“It won’t
work
, Del,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I
cannot be subservient to a man. You know I cannot.”

“Subservient? To McGraw? When were you ever? Star I was
there in the barn. I saw how you worked together to—eliminate—Price.” He
frowned. “That investigator, Keller,” he said slowly. “He and his wife share
equally in his business. That’s how you and Nick operate, as partners.”

Partners? She frowned, recollecting a comparison she’d once
made between her connection to Nicholas and the Blackwell’s marriage. But
Nicholas was not Henry Blackwell. He’d wish for a marriage like her parents’.
As much as she adored them and appreciated the love between them, everybody
knew that Father ruled the roost. She could not abide by that. “Nicholas
doesn’t subscribe to the movement.”

Del frowned. “Agreement on everything is not necessary for a
good marriage. Nor is it necessary for a good partnership. All you need is to
work well together and to compromise, of which you and your cowboy have proven
quite capable.”

As lovers, they certainly had. Moreover, she thought, they
had actually handled Saratoga Springs fairly well, too, along with the many,
many different competitions they had engaged in, from chess, to tennis, to
verbal sparring. She’d never held his wins against him, not for long at any
rate, and he’d respected hers. So much so, that he admitted he’d vote for her
if such a thing could ever occur. For a moment her despondency lifted. Then
fell back with a thud, for a vote was not marriage. Respect was not love. “It
doesn’t matter. He never asked me.” She meant it to come out casually. Instead,
her voice sounded pinched and worn.

“No doubt,” Del said with sardonic amusement, “because you
never afforded him the opportunity. You’re as prickly as a rosebush sometimes,
Star. Even with McGraw, whom you sincerely love, you spent half your time
ranting about what snakes men are and how we’re all determined to keep women
under our thumbs. How he bore it is beyond comprehension. Regardless, you must
own that ‘tis a daunting scenario under which to propose.”

She’d ranted, she thought mulishly, because she valued
Nicholas’s opinions. She didn’t behave that way in bed. “My home is in Boston
and his is in Colorado.”

Del sighed disgustedly. “I’ve thought many unkind things
about you, sugar, but I never thought you a fool.”

“I’m
not
a fool! I’m pragmatic!”

“You’re a fool. We have railroads and telegraphs. If you
cannot agree on where to live permanently, you may spend part of the year in
each location and communicate via telegram and letters between times. You both
have more than enough money to do that.”

“Part of a year? What kind of marriage is that?”

“The kind that will suit you. You are twenty-seven, Star.
You’re never going to find another man like McGraw. This is the
only
time I’ve ever seen you in love. What in bloody hell are you waiting for?”

Could it work, she wondered, as her heart started pounding
hopefully in her chest. Would Nicholas agree to that? What about children?

Her chest tightened when she recalled their discussion about
children. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t love me.”

Del turned in his seat, his eyes wide, his brow wrinkled in
disbelief. “Doesn’t love you? The man travelled half way across the country,
braving Society, to be with you. When you were in peril, he chased you another
thousand miles! What more proof do you want?”

She batted away the tears forming in her eyes. “He would
have done that for any woman.”

“I was with him on the train to Chicago. McGraw has always
been, since I met him, cooler than a cucumber. Nothing any of us did stirred
him, and Lord knows we tried. But on that train, he was just about mad trying
to get to you, Star, pacing and snarling at the porter when he thought the
train was moving too slowly. He barely controlled his emotions. I’ll wager that
he’s never been in that position in his life.”

She blinked. She’d seen Nicholas “stirred” many times, but
only when they were alone. “Then why did he never say it?”

“Probably,” he said acerbically, “for the same reason you
never did.”

Because what use was such a declaration if heartache was
inevitable? She’d not considered that, for her fiancés all knew her prohibition
on marriage, yet still declared their undying love. She’d assumed that Nicholas
would do that same if he cared for her. Nicholas, however, was no fool.

“It is something to contemplate. Now you might rest some
again, Del. You’re looking pale.”

He scowled at her and leaned back. For a half hour, Star
stared out the window, blind to the passing scenery, as her brain turned over
the last months and the many, many ways in which Nicholas had acted like a man
in love, without ever having said it.

It’s gotta end sometime, right?

What if she’d answered no? What if she’d told him she loved
him, told him she wanted to stay with him, together, as
partners
,
as
equals
. Marriage did not sound so daunting when put that way. In fact, it
sounded rather cozy. Comforting. Safe, like when Nicholas had stood at the back
of the room at the rally and scanned the crowd for Romeo.

“South Bend in ten minutes,” the porter called out. “Gather
your items.”

“Sir!” she yelled, jumping up before her thoughts were
finished.

Del rubbed his eyes and sat up. The porter turned and walked
toward them.

“Star?” Del muttered.

“Ma’am, can I help you?”

“Yes, please. I’ve elected to get off at South Bend. If you
would kindly have someone see to my trunks in the baggage car, I would
appreciate it. I’m taking the next train headed west.”

A huge grin spread across Del’s face. “Now that’s my girl.”

***

With every nerve in her body either taut or shaking, Star
rode into the Bar M’s dirt yard. Dust flew up behind her horse, so different
from the last time she’d been here, arriving by coach. The man from whom she’d
rented her mount had been less than happy about letting “an Eastern-bed lady
like yourself” ride alone. He’d reluctantly agreed, however, when she’d
borrowed his Winchester ’76, and proven her capability with it by naming all
the parts and loading it.

Thank God he’d never asked her to shoot the thing.

As she pulled the horse to a halt, a man in blue jean pants
and a faded blue shirt exited the barn. He hit his thigh with his Stetson as he
moved, releasing dust. She’d know that walk anywhere.

Nicholas raised his head. Her heart rose in her throat.

He halted, shocked. His eyes narrowed as he took a moment to
scan her face. At length he strode toward her, yelling, “Mack, come see to this
horse!”

“In a minute, Boss!”

“Now!”

Reaching her, he took the reins and held her gaze. His eyes
were bright with hope, with excitement, but wariness bracketed them as well.
“Star. Mind tellin’ me what you’re doing here?”

Rudeness. So rare in “her cowboy.” “Why I’ve come for a
visit. I should think it obvious.”

He continued his scrutiny, not saying a word as Mack reached
them. He greeted her by name, and then with a bemused glance at Nicholas,
waited while she dismounted. Mack led the horse away. When he was out of
hearing, Nicholas spoke. “Well you’re more ’n welcome to spend the night. The
company’ll thrill Melinda. But here’s the deal, ma’am,” he said, his voice
roughening. Her heart squeezed at the sound of the word, once so formal and yet
so dear to her now. “Here’s the deal. You want to stay longer, then you’re
stayin’ for life.”

She sucked in her breath. So
quick
! No leading up,
just straight out “for life.” And she in her stained, brown travel gown which,
she thought with a twinge of merriment, she’d sliced down the back to allow her
to ride. She was scarcely dressed to receive a marriage proposal; her trunks
and marriage-proposal-suited clothing were two days behind her. “Might I—might
we—discuss it a bit? Life is—well, it’s a long time.”

He blinked. Then a smile pulled at his mouth. “Not a no
then?

She shook her head mutely.

“Well O.K. . . O.K., let’s mosey on into the library and see
if we can hammer out a deal.”

“Why, yes, let us by all means hammer out a deal,” she said
with a little chuckle.

He took her arm and they moved quickly across the yard, just
as Melinda opened the door. “Oh my heavens! Star Montgomery, as I live and
breathe. What are you doing here? It is so good—”

“In a little while, Mel,” Nicholas said, moving past her.
Jim, coming from the kitchen eating some kind of sweet, exclaimed, “Stwaw
Mongumwy?”

“Later, Jim.”

He pulled her into the library and shut the door. Nicholas’s
desk sat in the middle of the room—a heavy mahogany desk, with a lamp in one
corner, a neat pile of papers in another and the rest gleaming wood. Set in the
corner of the house, the library possessed several long windows, open now to
let in the late-summer breeze. The combination of pine and sun-heated earth
mixed with the fragrance of past fires and the leather of the books lining the
walls, quintessentially Nicholas. This was his sanctuary and Star’s favorite
room. She could imagine many winter nights spent here with him, she thought, a
lump in her throat as she crossed the room to a small table, set with crystal
glasses and decanters.

He chuckled behind her. “Straight to the booze, huh?” he
said, settling in a dark leather armchair in front of a stone fireplace.

“Why, of course! Port’s not here,” she said, pouring a
drink. She turned and on rubbery legs made her way to a matching chair across
from him. “Besides, we have much to consider, don’t we? Don’t men generally
‘hammer out’ deals over booze?”

His eyes sparkled. “Sure. Gettin’ the other party drunk
gen’rally makes ’em more agreeable.”

“Why, Nicholas,” she said with a laugh, “I am
always
agreeable. When I’m not arguing, that is.” She took a sip. “I must point out,
however, that
you
appear be a trifle rusty on business negotiations. I
should have expected an offer that is, shall we say, more committed?”

Nicholas grinned and leaned back in his chair. He gazed at
her with softly affectionate eyes, and a tiny lump formed in her throat. Oh,
how she loved it when he allowed her to see the gentleness that he hid so well
underneath his rough exterior. “You asking for commitment, ma’am? I never
thought I’d hear that.”

She laughed. “Nor did I ever expect to wish it, but I find
that I’ve changed my mind. When it comes to you, at any rate. From you not only
do I wish it, but I’m afraid I must demand it. A proposal, sir, on bended knee,
with a deep and true confession of your sentiments. Speak to me words of love,
Nicholas.”

He raised his eyebrows and laughter sparkled in his eyes,
but that heart-stopping affection still lurked just below. “Fair enough.” He
pulled his chair so near to her that their knees touched. He took her hands in
his.

“No bended knee?” Star asked. Good gracious, tears were
welling in her eyes.

“Not unless you agree to fall to your knees, too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“That was my point,” he said. He stared down at her hands,
his brow creased as he thought. Finally, he raised his head to hold her gaze.
His eyes were bright—oh with unshed tears! She blinked quickly to stop hers
from rolling down her face. Useless attempt.

“I fell in love with you, Star, during that first visit.
Asking for a glass of brandy, and then later at the coral,” he said in a husky
voice. He shook his head and smiled in recollection. “Damned if I didn’t think
you were just shy of mad. But fascinating. I’d never met somebody like you,
never even imagined somebody like you existed.” He paused, drew in a breath,
then continued. “I’m thirty-five and not married because I never could see a
reason to get shackled. Had my nieces and nephews, and well, there wasn’t
anything else I needed from a woman that I couldn’t get in town. I was happy.”
His eyes narrowed briefly. “I thought I was happy.”

“Then you came along and I suddenly saw this canyon-sized
hole in my life. Never thought of a woman as a companion. Hell, I never met one
worth talking to. Fifteen minutes and I’m generally wondering where the door
is. Same thing with you, Star, only with you, I’m wanting to lock you in.”

He paused, thinking for a minute before continuing. “I don’t
agree with half the stuff you believe. Some of it, yeah, you’ve convinced me.
Minnie—” He shook his head. “Women ought not to live that way. But women
doctors and lawyers? Well, I reckon if you marry me, we’ll argue about that
stuff ’most the rest of our lives. But I’ll love each and every second of it,
because I love you. Head over heels, don’t-want-to-live-without-you love.”

He stopped, regarding her closely as if expecting a reply.
Her throat clenched and her heart beat so swiftly she could scarcely breathe.
“No vows,” she said as tears slid down her cheeks, “to make me happy? To
protect me?”

He dug into his pocket for a handkerchief. “You’re already
happy. That’d be a fool’s errand.” He wiped her tears away. “And you’re better
able to care for yourself than ’most everybody I know. But I’ll promise not to
stand in the way of the things you want to do, and I’ll be here in whatever way
you need me.”