Naughty Marietta

by Nan Ryan

  Out on the sidewalk, Cole said, “The first thing we must do is tend the tired, winded stallion.”

  She nodded and followed as Cole led the weary black toward the livery stable down the street. While Marietta waited outside, he took the animal inside and found the stable boy.

  “Unsaddle him and give him a nice long drink of water. When he’s had his fill, wash him down real good to cool him off, then feed him a bucket of oats.”

  “I’ll take good care of him, mister,” said the stable boy.

  Cole grabbed the saddlebags, draped them over his shoulder and said, “I’ll be back for him in an hour.

  The torture’s over, old friend,” Cole said to the stallion. “You’re going to get a long rest.”

  The stallion raised his drooping head, nickered and affectionately nudged Cole’s shoulder. Laughing, Cole turned and stepped outside.

  “What are we waiting for?” he said to Marietta, “Let’s go get ready for our train ride.”

  Badly needing some new clothes, the pair walked directly to the general store. The choices were limited. The railroad had come to Lubbock, but the latest fashion had not yet arrived. But neither cared. Cole picked out a plain white shirt, a pair of tan trousers and black cowboy boots. Marietta found a simple dress of blue-and-white checked gingham, white cotton underwear and petticoats and white kid slippers.

  With their newly purchased treasures, the pair rushed to the town’s only hotel. They checked into a second-story room and waited while a porter filled the claw-footed tub with hot water. Then once he was gone, they laughed and scuffled as they hurriedly stripped, each attempting to beat the other into the steamy water.

  It was a draw.

  Marietta stepped into the filled tub, then squealed when Cole joined her. They stayed in the tub for a good half hour, washing the sand from each other’s hair and soaping their slippery bodies.

  “I never knew that the simple act of taking a bath could be so pleasurable,” Marietta said with a happy sigh.

  “Think how enjoyable it will be to sleep in a bed tonight,” he said and kissed her.

  She wrinkled her nose. “You need a shave, Texan.”

  “Coming right up,” he said, shooting to his feet, splashing water all over her and the floor.

  The train whistle blew.

  A half-dozen travelers had gathered on the platform, ready to board the southbound train.

  Near the end of the train, Cole led the shiny clean stallion up the plank gangway into a hay-filled stock car. He gave the big black a slap on the rump, turned and jumped down to the ground.

  He looked up the tracks and saw Marietta. She stood on the platform in her gingham dress, her red-gold hair aflame in the afternoon sunlight. Anxiously she waved for him to hurry. Cole sprinted along the tracks, reaching her in seconds.

  “You look like a schoolgirl,” he said. Then he plucked her off the platform and handed her up the steps and onto the train.

  No sooner were they on board than the wheels of the train began to slowly turn on the tracks. The whistle blew loudly as they made their way down the cars’ narrow aisles in search of their private compartment.

  “Here we are,” Cole finally announced, stopping before a closed door.

  Inside, the window shade was raised, revealing a cozy chamber equipped with a long, upholstered sofa with a high plush back. Both sighed and moaned as they sank onto the comfortable couch.

  The train began to pick up speed. The depot and the false-front buildings of Lubbock were left behind. For a while neither Marietta nor Cole spoke. Instead, both leaned back and relaxed, gazing out the window at the parched land rushing by.

  His head resting on the sofa’s high back, his long legs stretched out before him, Cole reached for Marietta’s hand. She turned and looked at him. He yawned and stretched, rippling his muscles like a big jungle cat, the fabric straining against his biceps. He reached up and loosened the collar of his newly purchased white shirt.

  He squeezed her hand.

  Marietta felt a thrill run through her and knew that she couldn’t wait one more day, one more hour to tell him that she loved him.

  She freed her hand from his, turned more fully to face him and said softly, “Cole, there is something I want to say to you. Something I have to tell you.”

  Smiling, he laid a hand on her knee and said, “All right, but must you look so serious? Is it something bad?”

  “I love you, Cole,” she said simply. “I am in love with you.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Cole’s heart skipped a beat.

  For a long moment he didn’t speak. Finally, keeping his tone low and level, he said, “Marietta, please don’t talk like that. Such foolishness. You don’t love me.”

  “I do, Cole, and I—”

  “Sweetheart, listen to me,” he cut in. “You think you love me, but you don’t. Not really. It’s simply that we’ve had some grand adventures and you’ve been swept away.” Cole smiled and added, “Why, we managed to elude Lightnin’ and his entire gang. And then when Lightnin’ finally caught up with us, you knocked him senseless.”

  Marietta nodded and smiled.

  Cole continued, “After that we encountered that pair of dirty buffalo hunters, one of whom definitely had his eye on you. And then we managed to evade a band of whooping bloodthirsty Comanches. We’ve seen a thundering buffalo herd and then rode down into the awesome Palo Duro Canyon and…and…don’t you see, Marietta, you’ve been swept away by the circumstances. Once you get back to civilization, you will—”

  “Still love you,” she firmly stated. “I love you, Cole, and whether you love me or not I will always love you.”

  Cole smiled as one might smile at a precocious child. He said, “That’s terribly sweet and I am very flattered. But you don’t love me. I know you don’t. How could you? I have nothing to offer.” He paused, then said bluntly, “Marietta, there isn’t anything you can get out of me. Not a thing I can do for you.”

  Stung by his hurtful words, she stiffened and said, “I don’t want you to do anything for me except love me.” Cole made no reply. He glanced away, stared out the window. She said, “Look at me, Cole. Please, just look at me.” Cole slowly turned to face her. She said, “Didn’t you hear me? I said I love you and I only want you to love me.”

  Cole exhaled slowly and shook his head. “Nice try, but it won’t work, Marietta. I’m on to you, sweetheart. I can see why you’d suppose that all you need do is profess your love and I’d give you anything you asked me for.”

  “That is not true.”

  “It is true and we both know it,” he said, determined he would not be as easily conquered as her other past admirers. “No offense, sweetheart, but it’s obvious that you have been pampered and spoiled all of your life.” He paused for a heartbeat, then added, “And that you are an expert at using men to get what you want.”

  Angered now, Marietta’s face flushed and she said hotly, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Cole Heflin! You think you’re so clever, think you know everything about me. But you don’t. You know nothing. Nothing at all. You don’t know who I am or what I am or anything about me! You believe me to be a child of privilege? Coddled and indulged every moment from the cradle forward? You suppose I’ve led a life of ease and indulgence with never a care in the world? Nothing could be further from the truth. Did my dear old granddad tell you why I wouldn’t want to come to Galveston with you? Did he? Tell me!”

  Cole straightened. “No. No he didn’t, but—”

  “Then I will tell you,” she said, her delicate jaw tightening and her eyes flashing fire. “When my mother became pregnant with me at the young age of seventeen, she was not married. As soon as he learned of her pregnancy, my spineless father deserted her. Left her to face my grandfather alone.”

  “Marietta, you don’t have to tell me—”

  “Yes, I do, so don’t interrupt,” she warned. “My grandmother was dead and my mother’s brother was just a child. M
y coldhearted grandfather, shamed by my mother’s condition, banished her from his sight without a dime to her name. Can you imagine? That old bastard tossing out his only daughter?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Well, he did. He told her that she had shamed the Lacey name and he never wanted to see her again. There she was, pregnant and on her own, with no skills and nowhere to turn, no place to go. She walked away from her home and accepted a ride out of town with a traveling drummer.

  “Months later she wound up in Wichita, Kansas. She had me all by herself. We were dirt poor. We never had any luxuries, hardly had the necessities. We were fortunate to have a roof over our heads. My mother was so beautiful and sad and I watched her grow old before her time. She cooked and cleaned at a boardinghouse for our keep, and by the time I was twelve years old I had decided that my mother’s life was not going to be mine. No matter what anyone thought about me, no matter what they said about me, I was going to do whatever it took to have a better life.”

  Marietta paused to get a breath and Cole felt a sudden ache in his throat. Seeing the bright tears shining in her eyes, he reached out to lay a comforting hand on her arm.

  She irritably brushed his hand away and declared, “You’re a man, you can take care of yourself, can’t you?”

  He did not even trust his voice to answer. He simply nodded.

  “Of course you can. You can come and go as you please. Do anything you set your mind to.” She glared at him and said, “You have no idea what it’s like to be a woman all alone in a man’s world! While my worthless father blithely turned his back on me, my mother could hardly do the same, now, could she? She couldn’t just walk away from me like he did.”

  “No, she couldn’t, sweetheart,” Cole said softly.

  “When I was seventeen, my mother died from overwork and a broken heart.” Tears sprang to Marietta’s eyes and spilled over when she said, “She was only thirty-five, but she was no longer young, no longer pretty. She was an old woman.” Marietta shook her head sadly and continued, “After I buried her, I could have stayed and been a serving girl at the boardinghouse where my mother had worked. But I didn’t. I left that very day.”

  Continuing to talk, revealing things she had never shared with anyone other than the motherly Sophia, Marietta told Cole about her fears, her loneliness, her struggles, her constant striving to be somebody, to make something of herself.

  Cole listened as she told of the terrible hardships she had endured and of how she had—all of her life—yearned for a family that loved and cared about her. Deeply touched, loving her more than ever, he wanted to draw her to him, to comfort and reassure her. But he knew that she was too upset to allow it.

  “I am far from perfect,” she admitted, “but I am not the terrible person you believe me to be. I have done what I had to do to take care of myself. And yes, I’ve used men to get what I wanted, but weren’t they using me as well?”

  Cole started to reply, but she threw up her hand and stopped him. “I wanted the things my mother never had. I wanted pretty clothes and a nice place to live and an exciting life. I wanted to be an opera singer more than anything in the world! Can’t you understand that?” She exhaled and continued, “It is true that Maltese gave me the opportunity to sing at the Tivoli Opera House. But did he get nothing in return? Did he look unhappy to you? Is it acceptable for a man to use a woman, but not the other way around? If so, who made those rules? A man? Who else!” She was openly crying now.

  “God, Marietta, honey, please, don’t. I’m sorry for all the cruel things I said.”

  As if he hadn’t spoken, she sobbed, “I am not proud of the things I’ve done, but I’m not ashamed either. I am not the scarlet woman you believe me to be. I’ll admit to playing the flirt with a number of well-heeled gentlemen, but it never went any farther than that.” She stopped, sucked in an anxious breath, brushed a wayward lock of hair back off her face and stated emphatically, “I have never known a man before you. Never.” She paused and looked at him with sad, tear-filled eyes.

  For a moment Cole was stunned, couldn’t speak. Then softly he asked, “What are you saying, Marietta?”

  “Cole, you were my first and only lover. I never gave anyone else anything more than a chaste peck on the check, so help me God. I am telling you the truth and I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

  Cole was deeply affected by her admission. He loved her and he couldn’t help be relieved and happy to learn that he was her first and only lover. That confession made her all the more precious to him. Made him feel even more protective of her.

  And he was incensed that her heartless grandfather had been so cruel to her mother. He swallowed hard, straightened his legs, reached out and put his hands to her narrow waist.

  He hauled her over and sat her on his lap. He dried her tears and said, “Darling girl, I’m so sorry for all that you’ve been through. I apologize for the mean things I’ve said and for the way I’ve treated you. Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?”

  Her arms slipping around his neck, she sobbed, “Cole, don’t take me to Galveston. I’ve never met that mean old man who is my grandfather. I don’t want to meet him. I hate him.”

  Cole comforted her, sympathized with her, but said, “Sweetheart, your grandfather saved me from the gallows and I vowed to him that in return I would bring you safely home. I must keep my word.”

  “No,” she cried. “If you don’t love me, at least let me go. Tell him I got away and—”

  “Listen to me, Marietta,” Cole said. “I can’t do that, you know I can’t. But don’t worry, I’ll be there with you when you meet him and I’ll take you away from his house anytime you say the word.”

  “You promise?”

  Cole hugged her closer. “I promise.” He kissed her then and said, “Darling, I love you. I’ve never said that to a woman in my life. I love you, Marietta, and I want you to be my wife. When we get to Abilene, let’s get off the train and get married.”

  “You mean it?”

  “I do. Marry me, Marietta, the sooner the better. Marry me.”

  “Oh, Cole, the answer is yes, yes, yes. The one thing in this world I want even more than I wanted to be an opera singer is you, my love. I love you so much, Cole, but there’s something else I must confess to first.”

  “All right, sweetheart,” Cole said, then tensed and waited.

  Sniffing, she told him, “I’ve called myself Marietta Stone for years, but that isn’t my name. I’m really just plain old Mary.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks when she added, “I don’t even have a last name.”

  Into Cole’s mind flashed the moment back in the grotto at Palo Duro Canyon when she’d said, as he started to carve her initials in the rock, “Just carve an M.” Now he knew why. Bless her heart.

  Cole hugged her tight and said, “Darlin’, soon your name will be Mrs. Cole Heflin.”

  Thirty-Eight

  “By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife,” said Sam Willingham, Abilene’s bearded, slightly inebriated justice of the peace.

  The minute the justice spoke those words, Mr. and Mrs. Cole Heflin, laughing happily, hurried out of his office. Holding hands, they ran swiftly down the wooden sidewalk toward the train depot. The locomotive’s wheels were already beginning to turn on the tracks when Cole swept Marietta off her feet and handed her up the steps.

  “Cole!” Marietta shouted anxiously as he jogged along beside the tracks and the locomotive began to pick up speed. “Cole,” she sighed with relief when he grabbed a handhold and swung up onto the moving train. She impulsively wrapped her arms around his waist and said, “For a second there I was afraid you weren’t going to make it.”

  Cole grinned and hugged her. “And miss my own honeymoon? Not on your life. What are we waiting for, Mrs. Heflin?”

  Marietta laughed, took his hand and pulled him along behind as they made their way through three cars of day coaches to their private sleeper. Once inside,
Marietta was pleased to see that during the half-hour stop in Abilene, the porter had prepared the compartment for the night. The couch was pulled out and made into a bed, complete with clean white sheets and fluffy lace-trim cased pillows.

  Suddenly feeling shy, Marietta turned to Cole and said, “But, darling, it’s only three in the afternoon.”

  “We’ll pretend it’s nighttime.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips. She felt it all the way down to her toes. She trembled. Cole kissed her, raised his head and looked into her shining eyes.

  “Do that again,” she said with a smile and he did.

  Once their lips separated, Cole told her, “I have a little wedding present for you, Mrs. Heflin.”

  She made a face of puzzlement. “How could that be? I was with you every moment we were off the train. We hardly had the time to get married.”

  “I always plan ahead,” Cole told her with a mischievous grin.

  He kissed her forehead, then set her back and reached for his saddlebags. He withdrew a white paper bag and handed it to Marietta. She took it and on seeing that Lilly’s Ladies Apparel was written on the bag, her eyebrows knit. She looked at Cole suspiciously.

  “Go ahead. Open it,” he coaxed.

  Marietta gingerly opened the bag and peeked inside. Her lips parting, she took out a folded article of clothing that was soft and blue and shiny. She dropped the bag, shook out the beautiful ice-blue lace and satin nightgown and held it up. For a minute she was speechless. She stood staring at the beautiful nightgown, shaking her head.

  Finally she drew it to her, pressed it to her breasts and said, “You bought this back in Central City, Cole Heflin!”

  “Guilty as charged,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “The day we met.”

  Marietta smiled and said, “And you bought it for me?”

  “Who else, darlin’?”

  She playfully swatted him with the nightgown and said, “Aren’t you the presumptuous one, Texan.”

  Cole stopped smiling, uncrossed his arms and said earnestly, “The truth is, sweetheart, that never in my wildest dreams did I dare to hope I’d one day see you in the gown.”