The Texan's Bride (15 page)

With the rain hampering their goodbyes, Katie hugged her brother tight. “You take care, love. Mind Shaddoe and hurry back to Da and me.”

Daniel endured her embrace with the stoicism of a thirteen-year-old boy. “It’ll be grand, Kate. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

John gave his boy a manly handshake, then wrapped him in his arms. “God go with you, son,” he said. “McShane and I will be a’meetin’ you in church at two o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Shaddoe thanked John for his help, promised to take good care of Daniel, and turned to Katie. “I may not see you for some time to come, Kathleen. I am in your debt, for this and for your help with Steven’s plan regarding the land. Perhaps someday I shall be able to repay you.”

Katie smiled through her tears. “Shaddoe, you owe me nothing but your friendship, and I will hold you to that. Good luck,
oginalii
, my friend. Return to us soon.”

“I shall.” He bent to kiss her cheek, which was wet with more than raindrops. “Do not give up on my magic,” he said. “Be happy, Kathleen.”

Shaddoe melted into the trees followed by Daniel, who paused and waved to his sister and father, his sunshine smile a brilliant contrast to the weather.

By late afternoon, the clouds disappeared and a rainbow painted the eastern sky. John stood behind his daughter, watching the heavens from a parlor window in the Sternes’ home. “Care to go a’huntin’ for a wee leprechaun’s treasure, colleen?”

Katie smiled, her gaze fastened on the hazy band of colors in the distance. Often she and her father had done just that. During her childhood, after a storm, they would ride an outrageous race, searching for the end of the rainbow. They would laugh and sing, galloping across fields and meadows until the colored mist faded. Even at a young age, Katie somehow knew that the real treasure lay in the moments spent with her father, occupied in nothing more than play.

“Oh, Da,” she said. “What I wouldn’t give to find that rainbow’s end today with the little black pot filled to overflowing with smallpox vaccine.”

Gallagher kissed the back of her head. “Sure but if it isn’t a worry, having your brother after a task like this. But the boy is almost a man now, and he needs to be needed. This trip will be good for him, Katie. Shaddoe’s quest is noble.”

He pulled her away from the window and pushed her toward the stairs. “Time to dress, colleen. Mrs. Sterne has graciously offered the loan of a ball gown for this evening, and I accepted in your behalf. We need everyone in town to notice your presence at the dance tonight. ’Tis on the bed upstairs.”

“A dress? Really? I was going to wear my lavender, but if she offered…”

“She offered. In fact, I do believe she’d be insulted if you chose not to wear it. Now, get along, girl. As your da, I hate to admit it, but in that green creation of Eva Sterne’s you’ll be a grand distraction.”

Katie smiled tenderly at her father’s compliment. She kissed his cheek, then began to make her way upstairs. “I’m more than willing to contribute to the cause by wearing beautiful clothing. I just hope tonight’s activities do not leave us all inquiring after the latest jailhouse fashion.”

John turned back to the window and gazed at the symbol of dreams that colored the sky. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, hear her prayer,” he murmured.

BRANCH’S COLLAR itched. He considered plucking it off and tossing it in the nearest watering trough.
Damn
, but he hated wearing store-bought clothes. Give him a length of homespun cotton and a woman’s gentle stitch any day over these mercantile murder devices. The shirt was too tight across the shoulders, the vest too big, the jacket too short, and the trousers were just plain ugly.

Still, they were the best he could do in a pinch. He hadn’t planned on attending the Independence Day Ball until Adolphus Sterne told him just who he had for house guests.

Branch trudged through the mud, all but oblivious to the spatters that appeared on his pants. Something about this evening smelled like an acre of onions, he decided. John Gallagher wouldn’t attend a party at a Regulator’s place of business unless he had a very good reason. What was the old codger up to?

“Mr. Branch, wait!” Keeper McShane picked his way between puddles, stopping to brush off any speckles of mud that landed on his brand-new britches.

“Come on, squirt. If you’re so determined to follow me to this shindig, then keep up. Hell and Texas, these things usually break up by two, and it’s already past midnight.”

Early that morning, Strickland had waylaid him with a message for Colonel Moorman, who was off doing business with some horse thieves in the canebrakes a good half day’s ride east of town. Branch had ridden hell-bent for leather to get there and back in time to attend the dance. Had he known he’d get such a late start, he’d never have promised Keeper he could come along to the “real-honest-to-goodness, society-type dance.”

“He’s like having a lap puppy—wants to follow a man even to the backhouse,” he muttered. Of course, the kid wasn’t so bad, just lonely. Personally, Branch thought Sheriff Strickland could do a better job of dishing out attention to the boy, considering how he’d taken it upon himself to look after the youngster.

Keeper had told Branch the story of how Strickland had saved him from the whorehouse. The sheriff had settled into the Mansion for a weekend of entertainment when he discovered that the house had run out of his favorite cigar. Keeper had been sent to the mercantile in the nearby town of Red Mineral Bluff to purchase a supply of the smokes. For the remainder of the weekend, he noticed how Strickland eyed him while he went about his chores around The Mansion of Joy.

Keeper had been as surprised as a pup with its first porcupine when his mama traded him and his extra pair of trousers to Jack Strickland for three gold coins. He’d been happy to leave; some of the customers had been looking at him a might strangely. From the moment Sheriff Jack allowed him a cot in one of the cells for his very own bed, Keeper had become a fixture at the jail.

Branch thought the whole business a crying shame, but he took to the boy. In many ways, Keeper reminded him of himself.

The lilting strains of a waltz drifted into the street as Branch and Keeper approached the tavern. As they climbed the steps, Branch’s pulse quickened in anticipation.

He halted just outside the building’s open doors and gazed into the room, searching. He stepped inside the moment he saw her.

Dressed in green satin, Katie outshone every woman in the room. She wore her hair in a coronet with dogwood blossoms woven between the braids, and a patterned silk fan dangled from her wrist as a gentleman led her onto the dance floor when the fiddler began a waltz.

“Where’d she get the dress?” Branch muttered. “And where in the
hell
did she leave the rest of it?” Off-the-shoulder puff sleeves provided negligible support to a neckline that plunged entirely too low.

“Wow. Look at Miz Katie. Ain’t she just beautiful,” Keeper said, his face alight with awe.

Her dance partner (some sissified-lookin’ fool, Branch thought) twirled her around, and she faltered a step when she noticed Branch. But it was the moment she saw Keeper that she stopped dead still.

THE TINKLE of shattering glass screamed in Daniel Gallagher’s ears. His heart was thumping like a rabbit’s in a coyote’s hind pocket. Carefully, he squeezed through the small back window of Doctor Mayfair’s office. “Sweet Sainted Mother,” he said. “Breaking a windowpane in itself is enough to land us in jail.”

“Quiet,” Shaddoe demanded in a whisper.

Broken glass crunched beneath Daniel’s feet, and only a sliver of light penetrated the darkness through a gap in the window curtains. Although he waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust, he still knocked over a chair while crossing the room.

A glass-front cabinet stood against the side wall. He pulled at the door. Locked. Bending over, he peered inside, searching for the ampoules his sister had described. “Can’t see a blasted thing,” he mumbled.

He dug into his pocket for a match, then lit it. The flare of light allowed him to spot the two small amber bottles marked Smallpox Vaccine, Jefferson Strain.
That’s it
, he thought.

He blew out the match and lifted a book from Doctor Mayfair’s desktop. Tapping the book spine against the glass, Daniel cracked chunks from the cabinet front until he had a large enough opening to slip his hand through.

He was reaching for the second bottle when he heard the voices. “You should’ve known better than to go after your wife like that, Billy. You’re not going to win in a knife fight against a woman as strong as your Sal.”

Oh, no
, Daniel thought,
Doc Mayfair
! The lock on the front door rattled. Daniel grabbed the vaccine and gasped as his arm snagged on a ragged edge of glass. It sliced deep, and pain lanced his arm as he yanked it from the cabinet.

He raced for the back, shoving the bottles through the open window into Shaddoe’s waiting hands. With legs straddling the sill, Daniel froze when the front door opened and lamplight illuminated the room.

Doc Mayfair shouted, “What in the—Billy, get the sheriff!”

BRANCH WINCED as Katie trod on his foot. Again. “Sprite, you take to dancing like oil to water.”

“Oh, hush your mouth and waltz.” Katie’s flippant tone hid the tumult of emotion churning inside her as they glided across the floor. It had to happen again. So much to think of tonight, so much to do, and he had to show up. The untrustworthy wolf in gentleman’s clothing who made her blood race and her knees melt like ice beneath the August sun.

He looked down at her, a question reflected in the golden glow of his eyes. “Why, Kate Starr?” he eventually asked. “There must be four men for every woman here tonight. Why did you fight through a herd of admirers to ask me to dance?”

“I need to talk with you, Branch.”

“Why?”

Because I’ve got to get Keeper out of here
. The boy’s presence at the dance muddled the entire plan. Da expected him to be at the jail. Of course, Katie couldn’t tell Branch that, so she searched her mind for a plausible lie.

Branch continued, “Yesterday, you left me with the distinct impression”—he lifted his fingers and rubbed his cheek—“that my attentions weren’t welcome.”

She felt her face flush at his reference to her slap.

His eyes narrowed and he asked, “What are you up to, Sprite? And why isn’t your father here scolding you about your lack of clothing?”

“Branch, I need to tell you something.” But before she could finish, the music ended and a dark-haired gentleman slapped Branch on the shoulder. “Deputy, I thought you were on duty this evening.”

“Hello, Sheriff. Don’t worry, I’m keeping watch. This seemed the best place to be, since the whole town is crammed in this room.” He added silently,
with their eyes on Katie Starr’s bosom
.

Though Strickland spoke to Branch, his gaze never left Katie. “Allow me to say hello to this beautiful woman, Kincaid.”

Branch’s jaw tightened. Working for this man was getting old fast. If the deputy’s job didn’t suit his needs so well, he’d tell Strickland to take his pearly-white smile and shove it—

He broke off the thought as Katie deftly brought her heel down on his toes. Scowling, he said, “Certainly, Sheriff.”

Strickland bowed low over Katie’s hand. “Mrs. Starr, it is such a pleasure to see you again. Allow me to say that your beauty brightens this room like a thousand candles.”

Branch rolled his eyes as Katie preened. Strickland continued, “Nacogdoches has gone too long without having seen your lovely face grace its streets. You must accompany your father and brother on their trips into town more often. Why, I don’t recall your visiting here since that terrible business concerning your late husband.”

“She was here earlier this week,” Branch pointed out, annoyed at the way the sheriff’s words had dimmed Katie’s smile.

“It has been difficult for me to leave the inn, Sheriff Strickland,” she said. “Business has been good—up until very recently, that is—and in truth, I’ve not felt much like socializing since Mr. Starr and our daughter died.”

“I understand,” Strickland said with a consoling nod. “Perhaps had I been able to apprehend the villain responsible for your loss, you’d have found it easier to put the past behind you. I apologize, Mrs. Starr, for my failing.”

She shrugged, and Branch figured she’d had enough of this subject. A bleakness had entered her eyes, and she looked a little lost as she gazed around the room.

There was nothing cold or innocent about the way the sheriff was looking at Katie, however. Branch scowled as he watched the man’s gaze linger on her neckline. A woman ought to be locked up for disturbing the peace in a dress like that.

“Enough of this,” Strickland said. “We’ve a holiday to celebrate here. Mrs. Starr, may I request the next dance? I watched you earlier, and I must say that your grace on the dance floor overwhelms me.”

“Yeah, right,” Branch said. “She’s as light on her feet as a buffalo. But I’m afraid—”

“I’d love to dance with you, Sheriff Strickland.” Katie stepped forward, extending her hand. Strickland led her onto the floor for a waltz.

Branch retreated to the refreshment table, where he tossed back two cups of sweet ginger punch and consumed three tea cakes, trying not to stare at the tall, debonair easterner and his sassy, seductive dance partner. Little witch, she didn’t trample the sheriff’s toes once. And wasn’t Strickland holding her a tad more close than was necessary? Probably had something to do with his height and the angle he needed to look down the front of her dress.

Branch shoved his empty cup onto the table and maneuvered himself over to Katie’s side for the final bar of the song. Strickland frowned at him. “I think you need to make a circuit around town, Kincaid.”

“I think you’re right, boss.” He turned to Katie and took her elbow. “Ready for that walk now, Kate?” His smile was grim.

After taking one look at his face, Katie agreed, and then thanked Strickland for the dance. With his hand against the small of her back. Branch guided Katie firmly toward the front door.