The Scoundrel's Bride (25 page)

She shrugged. “I’d have told her there’s a tribe of Comanche in my kitchen if it would have gotten rid of her.” Turning, she headed for the stairs, saying, “Why don’t you go on into the parlor and make yourself at home. Let me put Will down for a nap, then I’ll be right back. Help yourself to a drink if you’d like.”

Zach detoured to the back door on his way to the parlor, and when Ginnie came downstairs, she found not only her cousin standing by the window, but the Miracle Girl sitting in a chair. She was dressed in men’s clothes. “Well,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m glad to know I wasn’t seeing things. You gave me quite a shock, Miss Brown.”

“Call me Morality, please,” she replied shyly. “I am sorry about that. It’s not my habit to play the Peeping Tom, but we heard voices and thought it best to check. No one can know that I’m here, you see.”

Ginnie looked at Zach, her blue eyes brimming with curiosity, as she took a seat on the sofa.

With a rueful grin, he drawled, “You know, Morality, it might have been more diplomatic to ease into this.”

“I know, but I’m just so nervous. I’m afraid something will go wrong.” She turned to Ginnie. “I’ve never done anything like this before, you see, and so many things could go awry. It has me quite fearful.”

Ginnie’s brow lifted. “Done anything like what before?”

Zach opened his mouth, intending to give a diplomatic explanation, but Morality jumped in with the truth. “Elope, of course,” she said. “I never thought I’d do such a thing, and if not for the circumstances, I’m not certain I would have taken such a drastic step. Everything is planned. Zach and I have devoted a good amount of time to the discussion. Our problem is that the entire plan hinges on your being willing to help us.”

Appearing somewhat dazed, Ginnie shifted her gaze to Zach. “Elope?”

He nodded once. “Ginnie, Morality was with me at the cabin when the storm began. We’ve spent the last four days together. Alone.”

“Oh.” Her gaze flashed back and forth between them. “I see.”

“I doubt it,” Zach said with a humorless chuckle. With a last glance outside, he turned away from the window and crossed the room, taking a seat opposite his cousin. “It’s a lot more complicated than you are imagining, Ginnie. Suffice to say that we could use your help to avoid some definite unpleasantness.”

“It’s nothing too difficult,” Morality assured her.

Ginnie busied herself pouring Morality a cup of tea, then freshening her own. Zach could all but see the wheels turning in her mind, and he patiently sipped the whiskey he’d poured earlier at her invitation. Suddenly, she nodded and said, “What would you like me to do?”

Zach smiled. Marston or not, he was really coming to like his cousin. “First, check on Patrick Callahan. His hand was injured the other day, and Morality is worried about his health. Then, if you would ask Robert to find someone to care for my animals for me for the next few weeks, I’d be much obliged.”

Morality added, “Mrs. Drake, I know you are terribly busy with the baby and all, but it would mean so much to me if you could find the opportunity to speak with Patrick personally. I know he’ll worry that I’ve abandoned him, but Zach has convinced me I simply mustn’t try to see him before we leave. I want him to know I’ll be coming back soon, and that—” She paused, and set down her teacup, then leaned forward, saying imploringly, “This is most important. Patrick must know that Zach has offered him a place in his home. When we return, Patrick can live with us. Will you tell him that, Mrs. Drake?”

“Call me Ginnie, please. And of course I’ll speak with Patrick for you. I’ll be glad to.”

Morality sighed with such relief that Zach couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you ever so much,” she continued. “I’ll feel so much better about this trip knowing that Patrick understands. I do wish I could see him myself, to make sure his hand is healing properly.” She turned to Zach. “Are you certain…?”

“I’m certain, Morality.” He looked at Ginnie. “There’s enough feed in my barn to care for all my critters—”

Morality nudged his knee. “Don’t forget the puppies.” She faced Ginnie. “There’s a new litter of pups. We made a nice warm bed for the mama and her babies in the barn. I think they’ll be all right, but if it gets cold again, well, it worries me.”

“Kids and animals.” Zach shook his head. “The woman worries a lot. Now, as I was trying to say, we’ll make this as short a trip as possible. If you and Robert don’t mind helping us out, we’ll be happy to return the favor sometime.”

Zach had decided already how he intended to do that. As soon as they returned, he’d give back the money the carpenter had paid for the shares of stock in his son’s name. “It’s the least we can do,” he added.

Ginnie waved a hand. “You needn’t worry about that. Why, this is the most excitement I’ve had since Will was born. An elopement!” She smiled at Morality. “How romantic. Where are you planning to be married?”

“New Orleans.” Morality blushed shyly. “Well, it is a business trip for Zach.”

“I’ve a meeting scheduled with my partner.”

Ginnie nodded. “I heard you were friendly with a vice president of the Texas Southern.” After a pause, she looked at Zach, her expression troubled. “If I may ask one other thing? Why all the secrecy? Why the disguise? You weren’t the only ones caught by surprise by the storm. Most of us here in Cottonwood Creek would be understanding about your predicament. And you are marrying Morality.”

Zach gave his cousin a wry smile. “Let’s just say her uncle wouldn’t exactly give his blessing for the match. I don’t want anything interfering with this wedding, so I’m making sure I get her out of town without being recognized.”

“You don’t have to lie for us, Mrs. Drake,” Morality said. “Zach and I have reached an understanding about that. If you can avoid answering any questions until after our boat leaves, that would be wonderful. After that, you may feel free to relay this entire story if you’d like.”

“Actually, it probably wouldn’t hurt if you spread a bit of talk around town,” Zach mused. “Might smooth the way for us when we return.”

Ginnie Marston nodded. “I’m happy to have the opportunity to help you, Zach. It’s a little salve for my conscience for being so awful to you when we were children.”

“Thank God for guilt,” Zach replied, pushing to his feet. “I think it’s the most powerful motivator on earth.”

“Hah.” Morality folded her arms and threw him a look. “As if you are ever bothered by the sentiment.”

Zach glanced at his cousin and recalled the money he’d accepted from her husband. “You’d be surprised, angel. You’d be surprised.” He lifted his hat from where he’d left it on a table. “I need to make a couple of stops before we leave, and it would be best for Morality to remain out of sight. Can she stay here for a little while, Ginnie?”

At her nod, he looked at Morality and said, “I won’t be long. The boat is scheduled to leave within the hour.”

Zach thanked his cousin, then took his leave. As he opened the back door, he heard Morality say, “The river- boat we are traveling on is called the
Runaway
. Quite a fitting name, don’t you agree?”

Not at all, angel
. Red Herring
would be more appropriate
. Morality wasn’t setting foot aboard the
Runaway
or any other steamboat.

Zach whistled beneath his breath as he stealthily made his way toward Joshua Marston’s stable. Ducking inside, he spent a few moments choosing between the half-dozen horses. While the dun looked to be the better animal, the roan somehow looked like the right mount for Morality.

Quickly and efficiently, Zach saddled the selected mare and led her from the stable. Safely away, he broke into a grin. He’d stolen from the Marstons before, but not in many a year and never something as valuable as a horse.

Damn, but he’d forgotten just how much fun stealing from his daddy could be. Too bad he couldn’t share his delight with Morality.

Somehow he didn’t think she’d understand.

TRAMMEL’S TRACE was an old Indian trail that ran from the Arkansas River southwestward to the Red, then meandered through eastern Texas toward Nacogdoches and the El Camino Real. The thick pine forests offered both refuge and working ground for thieves and cutthroats, so informed travelers made the trip in well-armed groups.

Zach and Morality traveled alone.

She wasn’t happy about it one little bit. But then, Morality hadn’t been happy about a lot of things over the course of the past week, since the very morning they had slipped out of Cottonwood Creek destined not for New Orleans, but for a stagecoach inn outside of Nacogdoches.

Zach Burkett had lied to her. Again. No steamboats and feather mattresses for her. Instead of the luxurious accommodations she had happily anticipated, she got blankets atop hay bales in a succession of farmer’s barns. Twice she’d made a bed of pine needles and dead leaves on the cold, hard ground. Not that she deserved fancy quarters—under the circumstances she should be lucky she had a blanket—but like any girl, she’d dreamed of her wedding all her life. So far, her experience with elopement had been a distinct disappointment.

While she understood the theory of laying a false trail, Morality couldn’t approve of Zach’s methods. She cringed every time she thought of her conversation with Ginnie Drake. The woman would naturally believe Morality had been party to the man’s lies!

If he’d been truthful as he should have been, she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about misleading Ginnie Drake. As soon as they were safely out of town, she’d told him so and challenged him on his actions. Zach had just smiled that dimpled, devilish grin of his and claimed he had a high regard for the truth—so high, in fact, that he used it sparingly so as not to use it up.

Morality had been incensed. She’d ranted at him, railed at him. She’d quoted him chapter and verse about the evils of lying. He’d listened politely, then dismissed all her arguments with a roguish wink and a suggestive remark before spurring his horse down the trace.

She’d felt a sinful urge to do him physical harm. The feeling increased when he’d looked over his shoulder and called back, “God’s truth, Morality. Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”

Morality had given an unladylike snort. “Mr. Burkett,” she replied. “Funny you should use that term. I’ve reached the conclusion that the only time you do speak God’s truth is when you admit to lying.”

He’d laughed uproariously, and she’d refused to speak to him for the next two days—until she’d recognized the horse.

It had been early evening and dusk had draped a heavy veil across the forest. They’d made camp for the night some hundred yards off the trace, as the only shelter available was a decrepit shack already occupied by a trio of unsavory characters. Zach stood beside her mount, stroking its nose, and she’d realized just why the mare had seemed so familiar.

Morality had watched Patrick groom the very same blaze-faced roan outside the Marstons’ carriage house.
Joshua Marston
owned the delightful little mare she rode, and Morality entertained no illusion that Zach had purchased the mount from the man.

He’d
stolen
the horse. Zach Burkett, the man she’d pledged to marry, was a horse thief!

The resulting debate was an ongoing topic as they traveled long days in the saddle. Morality refused to accept his glib explanation of how atonement and redemption could possibly be gained while one continued to express falsehoods and commit thievery. The only good thing about their argument was that it helped to pass the time, and she was beginning to think this trip would never end.

By the end of the first day, Morality had been sore. By the eighth night, she could hardly move. Unaccustomed to riding so many hours at such a grueling pace, she helped roll out their pallets in the loft of yet another barn, dreaming of a long soak in a steaming tub of water.

Zach expected them to reach their destination by noon the next day. Morality lay on her blanket praying that the place called Gallagher’s Tavern and Traveler’s Inn offered baths to their guests.

The animals below snorted and nickered as Zach’s voice drifted from out of the darkness, spoiling her fantasy by challenging her yet again on the liar/horse thief debate. Wearily, she replied by retelling the tale about the boy who cried wolf, and when finished, asked for her betrothed’s advice on what the well-dressed Texan woman wore to her husband’s hanging.

“Tears and Spanish lace,” he replied. Dry straw crackled as he shifted his weight and rolled her into his arms. “But leave your hair down, angel. You have the prettiest hair this side of heaven.”

She wasn’t, however, in the mood to be romanced. She turned her head away from his kiss, pushing against his chest. “Leave me be, Burkett. As I’ve reminded you every night for almost two weeks, we are not yet married. I won’t be seduced.”

Zach pressed tiny kisses along her jawline, causing chills to race up her spine. “That’s what makes this fun, angel,” he rumbled, nuzzling her ear. “I don’t have to worry about my moral conscience because I know yours is right on track.”

What a curious remark. Morality tried to distract her attention from the firm strength of the muscle beneath her hand. She clicked her tongue. “Moral conscience? From a lying horse thief? Quite an intriguing thought. You know, there’s an old saying about murderers and horse thieves— they are often found in a state of suspension.”

“You only think you want me hanged, darlin’. Just give me a chance, and you’ll be happier that I’m hung.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” He raised himself up on his arms, and although the barn was pitch-black, she tangibly felt his stare.

His tone held a serious note as he said, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should give up on the idea. God knows, after the past week or so I doubt I’d be successful anyway.”

“What idea?” she asked, thinking his voice sounded like velvet felt.

Zach didn’t reply. He breathed Morality’s scent, still fresh and appealing despite the hard travel, and cursed himself for his gentlemanly intentions that very first night. How much more bearable these long days in the saddle would have been had he known he’d be dallying with Morality Brown’s delectables come sunset.