Wed to the Texas Outlaw (21 page)

The buggy halted several yards beyond the couple. She tried again to scramble down but Boone leaped over the side and lifted her gently to the road.

“It's Mama, but before.”

Melinda rushed up the boardwalk steps. Behind her she heard Boone's boots clicking on the wood.

When her mother's eyes grew wide in recognition Melinda stopped, still not sure who she was facing. Mother? Mama? Both of them? She wasn't certain she could walk the distance separating them to find out.

Then she felt the heat of Boone's chest against her back, the weight of his hand on her shoulder.

“Do I show?” she whispered, touching her belly.

“Only with your clothes off.” His voice puffed against her ear, leaving a white cold vapor behind. “But I reckon your mother already knows, see her smiling?”

Yes, she had noticed her mother's downward glance to where Melinda's fingers covered her bean-size baby.

And Boone was right! Even though she had no way of knowing that her wild girl was a married woman, she was smiling.

“Mama?”

The woman she had missed for too many years opened her arms wide. Melinda rushed into them.

Mama's cheeks were damp. So were hers.

It was hard to breathe or to think or to even believe. How could the mama she had lost be restored?

“I'm so sorry, baby.”

“Why would you be? I'm the one who left home so—”

“No... I left you.” Mama took Melinda's face in her hands, looked deeply at her. “I came to realize some things while you were away. I left you. When my little girl needed me the most, I left her. Please forgive me.”

Vaguely she heard Boone and Mama's companion speaking, not clearly, though, because of the wind howling coldly along the ground.

“I love you, Mama!”

Melinda wrapped her mother in a hug. Mama hugged back. They remained heart to heart for a long time, saying things that words could not.

At last Mama held her at arm's length.

“You always did have too much life in you for this stale, old town. I don't blame you for leaving. I should have taken you all away after your father died. But it seemed a daunting thing to do alone, and I never had your spirit.”

She was aware of Boone putting the tree in the back of the buggy but her full attention was on the miracle of having her mother back.

“How are my sisters?”

“Bethune is stodgy. A librarian. She claims to be happy in her library with her dusty books. Prudence has a beau. A good man who will make her happy.” Mama clasped her hands in front of her still trim waist. “You'll be staying for Christmas?”

“New Year! Mama, I've got so much to tell you it will take more than a few days.”

“You men go along home.” Mama blew a kiss to the man she now recognized to be Mr. Portlet, the neighbor who had come to Mama's rescue when the butcher had come pounding at the door. “My daughter and I are going to catch up with things while we walk.”

Mama looped her arm through Melinda's as they walked, watching the buggy move down the road, the tree bouncing off the backseat.

“So, who was that great big handsome man with you? I must say, he's ever so much more...well, more than anyone in this town.”

“My husband—Boone Walker—he's wonderful in every way. He's going to be a preacher.”

“You and a preacher? Melinda.” Her mother laughed out loud. “I should not be surprised that you continue to surprise me.”

“Well, he used to be an outlaw, but we'll talk about that later. So, Mama, who is the man with you?” She knew who he was, of course, but who was he to Mama?

“My husband. You remember our neighbor, Mr. Portlet?” Mama winked, her smile indicating that Melinda would know what she was smiling about.

And of course she did.

“You look so happy, Mama.” Melinda squeezed her hand.

“Really, I've never been happier. What about Rebecca?” For an instant a shadow crossed her expression. “I hope she did well in spite of the way I treated her.”

“Well, Mama, if you think my husband is handsome, you will think Rebecca's is, too. Boone and Lantree are twins, except Lantree is a doctor. They have a beautiful baby girl.”

“I couldn't be happier. Maybe someday I can let her know how I regret things and that, really, I did care for her.”

“I have news.” Melinda stopped walking because she had daydreamed so many times about how she would tell Mama about the baby and wondered if she would be happy. “I'm expecting a baby.”

Mama covered her mouth but screamed joyfully, anyway.

“I thought so! The way you touched your middle so lovingly.”

“You're happy?”

“Deliriously so. I'm walking on clouds.”

Yes, and she had been ever since Melinda had first spotted her.

“Do you recall our happy dance, Melinda? The one we did when you were tiny?”

Melinda lifted her skirt high. She shuffled her feet.

Mama echoed the movement.

“Aren't you worried that folks might be watching through the windows?” she asked.

“I'm going to be a granny!” she called to invisible listeners. “Even though I'm far too young!”

They danced down the boardwalk, kicking up their heels, tapping their toes and twirling their skirts.

The celebration didn't end until they whirled up the front steps, Mama into her husband's arms and Melinda into Boone's.

Montana, March
Lantree

A thaw in early March made it possible for Boone to take his bride and leave the small house in Billings where they had sheltered for the winter.

He liked the bustling new town but didn't care much for Coulson, the dying one next to it.

Interesting how the towns, side by side, resembled his life. The old dying one full of wickedness; the new burgeoning one full of hope and new beginnings.

Emotionally, it hadn't been easy to hole up for the hard months of winter, not when Moreland Ranch was only eighty miles away.

Eighty hard miles this time of year, he'd been told. While he might have attempted the journey alone, he would never subject his wife to it.

All through the long days and nights of snowy weather, he had longed for the reunion with his twin nearly as much as he'd dreaded it.

He'd spent a lot of years doing a lot of things to make his brother ashamed. Beginning with abandoning Lantree the night of the killing and ending with robbing the saloon where he had been captured and arrested.

There was little chance that Lantree would have any respect for him. When he finally met his brother face-to-face would there be even a ghost of their former affection?

Melinda had assured him that his brother loved him deeply. That might be true since he had hired Smythe to represent him. Then again, it could be that he had hired the lawyer out of family obligation.

There was every chance that his brother deeply resented him. It was hard to imagine any man being pleased to open his door and find an outlaw standing there.

He and Melinda had discussed sending a telegram to let Lantree and Rebecca know that they were coming, that he was a free man, and about their marriage.

With all they had to tell, it would have made for a mighty long wire. Plus his wife was set on sharing every detail of their good news in person.

He had no doubt that Melinda's reunion with her cousin would be joyful, with hugs, kisses and tears. As for what his own reception would be? He had no idea. What he did know is that he would spend a lifetime making things up to Lantree if that's what needed doing.

“We're nearly home.” Melinda rose in her stirrups, pointing down the slope of the hill they had just topped. She glanced across at him, eagerness moistening her eyes and casting them a deeper blue.

“Do you see the big house down below? There's smoke coming from the chimneys! Boone I think they're at home!”

It was hard to imagine that they would be anywhere else. From all he'd seen, they'd passed the nearest neighbor at noon. It was now getting toward sundown.

Besides, the weather was taking a turn for the worse. He doubted Lantree would take his family farther than the front porch.

“We'd better get a move on, honey. A snowflake just hit your nose.”

She laughed and wiped it and a stray, happy tear away.

By the time they rode into the yard, the sun had set. Lamps glowed softly through the parlor windows. Seen through a dusting of falling snow, the room held an aura of quiet peace, of contentment.

Moreland Ranch seemed a place that had only existed in his dreams.

But the vision greeting him through the window was something he had never even dared dream of. He felt Melinda's gaze settle on him. Knowing his wife as he did, he was certain that she wanted nothing more than to leap from the horse and rush inside. But she waited, watching him watch his brother.

Lantree sat on a large chair with a tall, lovely woman snuggled on his lap. It looked as if they were reading a book of some sort. It was a cozy scene with the fire brushing the pair of them in shades of soft orange.

The woman—Rebecca, she could only be—rocked a cradle beside them using one long, bare toe.

Lantree set the book aside. The pair of them laughed then Rebecca's fingers settled on her stomach with a caress. Lantree covered her hand with his. They shared a smile.

Melinda would not have seen the brief gesture since she was looking at him.

It was going to be like the Fourth of July with all the emotional fireworks that were going to go off when she found out there was another baby on the way.

“Don't worry, Boone.” She leaned sideways in her saddle to caress his shoulder. “This is going to be a wonderful moment.”

And it was time to face the moment, whatever it was.

He dismounted then rounded Melinda's horse and helped her down. He braced his arm at her back, not only to keep her from slipping on the quickly icing steps, but for the great comfort of holding on to her small body, of clinging to her reassuring spirit.

They crossed the porch together. When he lifted his hand to knock on the door, Melinda stopped him.

“Do I show?” Her eyes alight with hope, she feathered her fingers across her belly, cupping what would soon be a lovely bulge.

“A bit more than yesterday.” He kissed her forehead then her chilly lips.

He lifted his hand once more to knock but Melinda threw open the door and charged inside, dragging him by the coat sleeve, out of the cold and into the warmth.

“Becca!”

With a screech, Rebecca Walker pushed out of Lantree's lap. She dashed across the room to catch her cousin up in a hug.

Watching his brother rise, unsmiling from his chair, Boone was dimly aware of the women crying joyfully all over each other.

Barefooted, Lantree slowly crossed the room to where Boone stood riveted in the doorway. A gust of wind howled across the porch and blew a flurry of snowflakes inside.

For some reason, a lamp shade trembled.

Without speaking, Lantree spread his arms. Before Boone could blink, he was folded in his brother's sturdy embrace. Public exoneration meant nothing compared to this silent pardon.

After a long moment he became aware of life returning around him.

A bird screeched from inside the house. He heard a man's voice saying, “Miss Melinda, praise the Good Lord you've come home to us safely!”

He ought to make the man's acquaintance, but he was caught up in this long-dreamed-of moment. This was meant for him and his brother alone.

“You're all right?” Lantree asked, looking him over from head to toe then deep into his eyes. He swore that his brother was delving into his soul, looking for shadows of the past.

“I'm all right.” Thanks to Melinda, he could stand in front of Lantree and say that. “And you're a doctor?”

“It was a twisted road but, yes, I am. That and a cowpoke.” Lantree wiped a bit of moisture from one eye, shook his head on a long breath. “Hell and damn, I can't believe you are standing in my living room.”

“I want you to know that I'm no longer an outlaw.” That was something that needed to be said before anything else. “Even in the eyes of the law. Because of you and Mr. Smythe, my verdict was overturned. I'm a free man.”

From the other side of the room he heard the women's voices happily chattering. Melinda was probably relating all the news from Kansas City. The best of which was about her mother marrying Mr. Portlet and, being a changed woman, sorry for how she had treated them, especially Rebecca.

There was more talk than that, about how Mr. and Mrs. Portlet were coming to visit in the spring, but being involved in the moment of reunion with Lantree, he registered only a word here and a “By the saints!” there.

“I wasn't sure what to think of the little man,” Lantree said. “But I reckon he did well.”

There was another silence between them. Not lack of communication, though. For a moment they were simply seeing each other, feeling each other's presence.

“I need your forgiveness,” Boone managed to say at last. “For running away—leaving you to deal with everything. For all the years of worry I caused.”

“Hell and damn. You're here, you're safe.” Lantree clapped him on the shoulder. “It's all I ever wanted.”

“You should know—most of what they said about me wasn't true—but not all of it.”

“Oh!” A short, round fellow hurried across the room flapping a book in his hand. Now he understood why the lamp shades shook. “We know that, sir. Every evening we gather about the fire and read about you and our Melinda.”

All of a sudden Melinda was there beside him, snuggling under his arm, hugging him around the middle.

“How much of that account is true?” Rebecca asked. Looping her arm through her husband's, she arched a brow at Melinda.

“I related it myself.” Melinda shot her cousin a grin. “Nearly every word is gospel.”