by Danni Roan
“Thank you, Mrs. Barton,” Maud replied. Seeing Cam, his arm tightly wound around Quil’s waist, made her hope that they truly were in love and that all would be well. She noted her daughter’s shy smile and breathed a sigh of relief.
“You have to go first,” Prissy spoke, her voice sounding impatient. “The serving table,” she indicated with a nod, “you have to go first so that everyone can get their lunch.”
Quil blushed. She knew these things but she couldn’t seem to think straight.
“Come on then,” Cam offered, “we wouldn’t want these folks to starve,” he said, guiding her to the tables.
“I’m sorry it’s not much dear,” one of the ladies said as she set a steaming casserole down, “we didn’t have any real notice you understand.” She looked accusingly at the couple, as if they’d tried to deny her one of life’s great pleasures.
Laughter, conversation, and good will soon filled the shaded space as guests, friends and neighbors enjoyed a welcome reprieve from the everyday grind of life. Soon several men tuned up their instruments, and at once everyone looked expectantly at the newlyweds.
“I think they want us to dance,” Quil whispered.
“We wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would we?” Cam laughed, pulling her to her feet.
Quil was both delighted and worried at how seriously the man was taking his role, but she forgot all about it as he twirled her into his arms and began moving around the clearing. It was nice to see a different side of the serious cowboy.
Other couples soon joined them, but Quil didn’t notice. Something strange seemed to be happening to her and all she could do was study the smooth, handsome face of the man who led her easily through each step.
“You shaved,” she said, the words popping out before she could think.
“You finally noticed, did you?”
“Well, I’ve been rather distracted you know.” She half smiled, feeling some of the tension of the day leaving her.
“I even had a little help,” Cam teased, tipping his head in the direction of the bulky man with the mouth harp.
“Who? Rock?” Quil asked incredulously.
“Yep, he was nice enough not to give me an extra wide grin at the same time.” Cam’s eyes were serious, though his smile never faltered.
“What? You mean…”
“Let’s just say that those fellas think the world of you and that they’ll be pretty riled up if I disappoint you.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Royal,” Quil said, “I didn’t mean for them to, well you know.”
Cameron leaned close, his mouth next to her ear. He could smell the soft scent of honeysuckle on her hair as he whispered, “I have nothing to fear,” his breath tickling her ear, “Mrs. Royal.”
Quil’s feet came to a sudden stop at the meaning of his words, and he pulled her tight, lifting her off her feet and turning to keep them from toppling to the ground.
“Mrs. Royal,” she stuttered. “I’m so sorry. I should never have asked this of you.”
Gently Cameron nudged her back into motion to stop people from staring at them. “I’m afraid it’s too late now, my dear,” he said. “We’ll muddle through as best we can.”
He could feel her tremble in his arms, saw the tears spring to her eyes as sudden realization or emotion replaced cold logic. He couldn’t have her make a scene, not here, not in front of the whole community. There was too much at stake.
Tipping his head to one side he placed his lips gently on hers, tasting a hint of the cider they’d had with their meal. She was soft and warm and he kissed her determinedly, distracting her from all the worries that had come rushing in.
A loud rumble of laughter buffeted him and Cam pulled back to see the town people enjoying the show. He’d almost lost himself in that kiss.
He grinned, twirling Quil dramatically while she blushed scarlet. “I think it’s time for us to go,” he said softly. “Say goodnight to your mother.” His voice was firm.
Quil hesitated only a moment, then walked to the table where her mother still sat, watching the others dance.
“We’re going now mother,” she offered, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “We’ll see you at home.”
To Quil’s great surprise her mother smiled warmly. “Goodnight, dear,” she said, all doubt and worry erased from her even features.
At the front of the church, Cam lifted Quil up onto his saddle then swung aboard. It would make for a nice show, him carrying his new wife home. He tipped his hat to the few men who were about, then turned Snap toward the Rocking A.
Chapter 10
“You look tired,” Cameron said, his voice a deep rumble in his chest, as he guided the little mustang on a westward track.
“It’s been a rather unexpected day,” Quil replied.
“Why don’t you rest.” Cam offered, pressing her head to his chest. He found he liked the way she felt laying there against him.
A deep sigh escaped her as she leaned against his solid bulk.
“I’m sorry about this,” She began, picking up where she’d left off with the kiss.
“Aquila,” the sound of her name trickled down her spine, “I agreed to this. You didn’t force me, trap me or anything else.” He paused, pressing her head back to his chest as she started to sit up again. “I’m no greenhorn with no miles on me. I know what I signed on for and I’m willing to do it, not only for the profit it will offer but, well, because I think we can be friends,” he finished lamely.
“You do?”
“Yes, we’ve already proven we work well together. You can take care of the dollars and cents and I can see to the stock.” He could feel her smile against the softness of his shirt new shirt.
“I can’t let anything else bad happen.” She shivered at the thought and he tightened his grip around her shoulders.
“Let’s take it a day at a time and see what happens. I think, if we work together, we’ll be able to see things right.”
Cameron felt her relax a bit in his arms and he kicked the little horse into a smooth trot.
By the time they reached the ranch, Quil was sound asleep. Gently, Cameron pulled her from the saddle and into his arms, carrying her up the steps and into the log home.
Confidently, he walked across the plank floor of the living area and made the turn by the big fireplace, only to stop short as he looked at four closed doors. He didn’t know which room was hers.
“Blast it,” he grumbled.
“Hm, what’s wrong?” Quil asked sleepily.
“Which room do I go to?” Cam asked.
“Oh!” Quil squirmed out of his arms. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Royal.” She started toward the room at the far end of the hall, but he pulled her back.
“Quil,” he purred, “you’ve got to quit calling me that.” His dark eyes searched hers, trying to make her understand. “My name’s Cameron, or Cam. You’re going to have to use it.”
Aquila looked up at him, hearing his words and understanding. “Yes, of course. Cam,” she added with a smile. “We’re in here,” she replied, dropping her eyes as she led the way.
Together they entered a pretty room with brightly polished pine walls, a large bed and two pretty bureaus. “You’ve got some lovely things,” he said, trying to cover his unease.
“Oh, yes, I suppose we do,” Quil answered. He could hear the tension in her voice. “There’s an awful lot of nice furniture about in Biders Clump,” she said. “You see often people would realize before mounting the pass that they had too much in their wagons and they would abandon heavy items, like this bed or these dressers.”
“You mean like at the boarding house, all those nice things Ms. Polly has?” Cam said, feeling uncomfortable.
“Yes, Biders Clump became a bit of a trading post in the early days. People would often swap out furniture or other items for supplies. Mama and Pa always liked nice things, so over the years they’ve picked up a little at a time,” Quil continued, moving around to the other side of the bed a
nd setting her little handbag on the bureau there.
“This is rather uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Cam finally asked, moving to the window to look out onto the yard.
“A little.”
“I’ll make up a bed on the floor though and it will be fine.” He rubbed his chin, missing the rough scrub of his beard across his hand.
“Thank you.” Quil turned, her green eyes full of worry, and light.
“Don’t worry,” Cam said, moving to stand before her. “We’ll be alright.” He ran his hands up her arms and she shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked. “I can start a fire.”
“That would be nice,” Quil said, still surprised by the effect his touch had on her. “I’ll get ready for bed, then you can come back in.” Why hadn’t she realized how difficult this was going to be?
Cam smiled, understanding her reluctance to having him in her room. “I’ll be back soon.”
Twenty minutes later he returned. It was still early; the sun had just slipped from the sky, settling a cloak of darkness over the world.
Cam could barely make out Quil’s form in the big bed. “I put some blankets and things by the window.” Her voice was small.
“Thank you,” He felt like a little boy who had a secret and was sneaking around behind his parents’ back.
“I hope you’ll be comfortable.”
“I’ve slept in much worse.”
Silence settled into the room awkwardly, then was broken by Quil’s small voice.
“Thank you, Cameron.”
Impulsively, Cam moved to the bed and bending, placed a kiss on Quil’s brow before returning to his pallet and settling into his blankets on the far side of the room.
The sound of hushed giggles much later indicated to Cam that Aquila’s family had returned. He shifted in his bed with a grin. He was sure he could expect a great deal more of that type of thing over the next few days.
Cameron thought of the young woman sleeping only a few feet away from him. She seemed strangely vulnerable, even with her quick mind and keen determination. He would not let her down.
Stretching his arms behind his head, he studied the situation he’d gotten himself into. What had made him agree to this faux marriage? Was it simply pride? A way to prove he was an honest man and could stand by his word?
At twenty-four Cameron Royal was no silly, wet-behind-the ears boy. He’d been over the trail a few times, he’d met scoundrels and saints, sirens and simpletons. He chuckled softly. Perhaps he was the simpleton.
A pair of soft green eyes flecked with gold came to mind and a warmth settled into his heart. No, he thought silently into the night, not a simpleton, just the worst kind of a fool.
***
“Morning, Mama,” Quil said, pulling her apron on and heading for the stove. It was her week to cook breakfast and she needed to get started.
“Good morning,” Maud replied, surveying her daughter to determine her mood. “I’ve already started the coffee,” she added conversationally.
“Good morning,” Cameron’s cheerful voice echoed across the quiet kitchen, his boots clicking on the hardwood floor.
Quil turned, smiling at him shyly, then started as he walked up behind her and placed a kiss on her cheek.
“I’ll fetch the milk,” he said, heading out the back door.
“I’ve got the eggs,” a sleepy Priscilla called, walking in with a yawn. “I don’t know why we all had to get up so early,” she grumbled, handing the basket to her mother. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Pancakes,” Quil answered.
“You always make pancakes,” Prissy replied.
Maud smiled at her girls. “What are you complaining about?” she asked with a grin, “you like pancakes.”
“That’s true.” Prissy agreed, “but Quil always makes pancakes. Where’s Sara?”
As if in answer to the question, Sara entered, carrying a string of sausages from the smokehouse. “Here’s the sausages,” she spoke cheerfully, handing them to Quil. “I’ll set the table.”
“Mama,” Priscilla’s voice carried across the kitchen. “There’s a horse outside.”
“Who’s coming at this hour?” Maud asked, moving toward the window.
“Not a rider, just a horse, that big spotted one that Mr. Dixon rides.”
Maud stepped up and gazed out at the tall, white horse covered in black and brown spots. “Good gracious, where in the world did he come from?”
The heavy clunck of a plate hitting the table a little too hard made them all look as Sara jumped. “Sorry,” she said. “Is it really that spotted horse?” she asked.
“Yep, he’s out there nibbling grass in the yard.” Prissy yawned again.
“Oh. Perhaps there’s a break in that fence between the properties,” Sara offered logically. “I’ll take him back,” she offered, heading for the door.
“I think that can wait until after breakfast,” her mother spoke. “Go put him up in the corral so he doesn’t wander off.”
Quil, still feeling a bit awkward, sat beside Cam and picked at her pancakes.
“What a fine breakfast,” Cameron said brightly, wrapping his arm around her and giving her a little squeeze. Strangely, a feeling of contentment settled over Quil and with a smile, she finally dug into her meal.
“I’m heading up to the back forty today,” Cam said, rising from the table. “I won’t be back for lunch, but I’ll see you for supper.” He kissed Quil on the cheek again, tipped his hat to his new in-laws and left.
“I thought he’d maybe want to stay around home today,” Maud said to Quil as they started the dishes.
“There’s so much that needs to be done, Mama. Cam is like me. He wants to see the ranch grow and become prosperous again.” It was too bad that he was only interested in what he could gain from his side of the bargain, Quil thought to herself.
“I’m taking Che.. the horse back now, Mama,” Sara called, tying her bonnet strings as she headed to the door. “I’ll walk him over and then come back. Maybe I’ll look for some blueberries while I’m at it.”
“Be careful, Sara,” Maud chided, watching her youngest scurry to the nearby corral. “I swear that girl would live out doors if she could.”
***
“Sara!” Rafe called, hurrying toward her as she rode Chester along the trail that led to his own ranch.
“Rafe, what in the world is Chester doing wandering around on his own. I almost called him by name and that would have put the fat in the fire.”
Rafe Dixon swung down from the buckskin he was riding and pulling Sara off Chester and into his arms. “I don’t know how he got out,” Rafe chuckled then kissed her soundly.
“Oh, stop that,” Sara groused, pushing away from him.
“Sara, what’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” Sara grumbled. “This whole wedding thing has me all befuddled.”
Rafe rested his hands on her shoulders. “Did something happen? Is Quil unhappy?”
“No,” Sara said flatly, her voice almost truculent. “I’m happy for Quil, I really am, but how much longer do we have to wait?” Turning from Rafe’s embrace, Sara ran her hand over Chester’s white mane.
Gently Rafe turned her back toward him, a soft grin tugging at his mouth. “Be patient, darling,” he drawled. “Our time will come, you just have to have faith.”
Sara drew a finger down the buttons of his shirt. “I noticed you dancing with Janine Williams at the wedding,” she said softly.
“I danced with every girl,” he laughed, “but I danced with you twice. What would your mother have thought if I had only danced with you?”
Sara wrinkled her nose. “I guess that’s true.” She shrugged her shoulders, where his hands, warm and strong, still rested. “I don’t want you to wait so long you get tired of me,” she added, dropping her eyes.
Rafe smiled, placing a finger under her chin and lifting her face so she was looking at him. “Were you jealous?” he teased.
“No,” she stamped her foot.
“Seraphina Adams, I love you. I will never be tired of you and I’ll wait for you until the end of time itself if I have to.” To prove, it he kissed her fiercely.
Sara’s arms wrapped around Rafe’s waist, her fingers twisting into his heavy flannel shirt. Her knees had grown weak as her pulse quickened, pounding in her ears.
Breathing hard, Rafe set Sara at arm’s length. “We’d best figure out how to fix our folks pretty darn quick,” he said. “I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this.”
Sara blushed. “We’ll get an answer. I know we will.” Her voice was ragged. “Soon.”
“I’ll see you home.” Rafe said, offering his hand to put her up on Chester’s bare back.
“No, I think a walk in the woods will help me clear my head.” She turned to go, then stopped. “I love you Rafe,” she called, and dashed off toward home.
