by Tanya Hanson
“You sound settled in then, after these two days.”
Minda moved on to the real reason she was here, unwilling to chat about her life's events with a perfect stranger. “Mr. Hackett, I would like to discuss a little transaction.” She showed him the black velvet cap and explained her plan. “That way, the little girls can have new bonnets to, well, cheer themselves up.”
This time, she didn't say “my nieces.” Somehow that made the girls sound like they belonged to her. And while it hurt in a strange way to say so, they really didn't. She wasn't anything to them at all, other than their uncle's reluctant wife. The more she told herself that, the easier it was to guard her heart.
“I think that's a fine idea.” Caldwell Hackett nodded vigorously, reminding her of her present business. “My parents are ever eager to help our friends and neighbors. I know I speak for them.”
He set the cap on a hat stand and placed it prominently on the countertop, the plume curling elegantly. “Come along with me. Let me show you where my mother keeps her remnants.”
With some amazement, Minda looked around the well-stocked store. Why had she thought the shelves would be shorthanded, with a poor selection of wares? Norman Dale's letters had assured her she'd find everything she needed in Paradise.
Well, that was probably the reason. He'd lied about so many things.
She examined a dainty calico of pink posies, perfect for a tiny sunbonnet for baby Priscilla, particularly when trimmed with a leftover yard of white tatted lace. She touched the materials lovingly. But she would treat Katie to something more than a big bow pinned to the back of her head, something brimmed and special. After gathering up some pink velvet, she found a handful of silver netting, some black grosgrain ribbon, and three silk rosebuds. She could make do with cardboard to support a brim.
“This should do, Mr. Hackett,” she said, happy with the choices. Although he had looked away while she examined the goods, he had stayed nearby her the whole time. The store bustled with customers doing their Saturday shopping, but Minda soon saw why. His mother had obviously recovered from her headache, and was behind the counter now.
“Geraldine Hackett,” the shopkeeper called out with a wave.
As Mr. Hackett wrapped her supplies in brown paper, Minda waved back, planning a friendly chat with his mother and other townswomen before she left.
“Mrs. Haynes,” Caldwell Hackett said suddenly, back at her side, “might I invite you to join me for tea at Miss Lila Jean's boardinghouse? She runs a fine dining room.”
His invitation startled her. Was this the state of manners in Paradise? She was a married woman, after all. And himself a handsome bachelor. He definitely hadn't included his mother.
“Why, Mr. Hackett? I don't think...”
He bent down close to her ear and moved his head side to side to make sure no other customers were close enough. “Mrs. Haynes, you need to know that not everyone in Paradise supported the trick played upon you in your marriage. Should you need a friend...”
His face reddening, he stood up again, as if realizing the impropriety of his nearness. “What I mean is, should you find yourself needing a means of support...” He stumbled over the words. “Hackett Mercantile could make a permanent business arrangement with you regarding your hats.”
She fought for words. “Why, Mr. Hackett, your generosity is most kind, but I ... Well, this is just my way of gifting the girls with something special. I'm quite all right. Really.”
“Well,” Caldwell said. “Should the day come when you tire of the trickery...” He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips.
The gesture was merely gallant and gentlemanly, but at the same time she caught a scent she recognized, the scent of oceans or pine trees or downright manliness that her husband wore like a second skin. Caldwell Hackett didn't drop her hand, but Minda watched him stiffen from the toes of his brogans to the oiled strands of his hair.
“Keep your hands off my wife, Hackett.”
* * * *
Caldwell Hackett hung over Minda's hand for another split second. Then he looked straight at Brix, his mud-brown eyes turning black. It was a challenge any man would recognize.
“Afternoon, Brix. No cause for ruffled feathers. Just being gentlemanly.” His smirk was big and real.
“Known you since we were kids, Hackett. You're no gentleman.” Brix's fists tightened. Hackett needed his pretty face busted up, but hell, the buffoon wore spectacles.
“Why, the people of Paradise allow me to be in charge of their schoolchildren, Brix. I think they just might disagree with your assessment of my character. And this lovely lady might disagree as well, hmm, Mrs. Haynes?” Caldwell Hackett acknowledged Minda with a debonair little nod. “I think she and I are fast on the way to becoming business partners. And friends.”
“No matter what the town thinks of you, you got no right to put your perfumed paws on my wife. Damn, if you weren't wearing those spectacles, I'd...”
“What, Brix? You'd bloody my nose? Seems you settled a matter that way once already, remember? When we were twelve?
“You weren't wearing spectacles back then, and you deserved it. Taking Norman Dale's slingshot. Something else that wasn't yours.”
“Well, Norman Dale's bride seems to be yours now, and only through trickery. Shall we let her speak her opinions on that deal? Perhaps she doesn't accept that she's yours at all?”
Brix fumed. “Hackett, Minda's a married woman. My married woman. Now, get out of my way.”
“Or what?”
“Or you can take off your spectacles and meet me in the back of Skinny Hank's. But not here, not in front of the ladies.” He sure didn't need to harm his reputation, now that he had a wife and kids to his name. But likely he had anyway. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the town biddies looking straight at them with wide, interested stares.
“How remarkable, your respect for womenfolk. Yet you trick one into being your wife,” Hackett peered over his spectacles at Brix like he was a naughty dunce in a corner. It wasn't a feeling Brix liked at all.
“As I see it, our matrimony is none of your business.” Brix's back teeth clenched just as he saw his wife's jaws clamp together, like she might want to say something but not sure she should. Well, whatever it was, it was between the two of them.
Then Minda took his hand. She wasn't gentle at all, he figured she was angry, but his heart still set up a racket that made his ribs crack. “Well, gentlemen,” she said. “I've had enough of this, discussing me like I'm not even here. Good-day, Mr. Hackett. Thank you for your assistance. Come along, Mr. Haynes.”
She hugged her package and led Brix to the door.
“My pleasure, Mrs. Haynes. Any time. Any time at all,” Hackett called after them. “Especially if you change your mind about anything. Anything at all.”
Outside by their horses, she dropped Brix's hand and stuffed her package in her saddlebag. Hell, she wasn't acting offended at all.
Or flustered. His heart was beating twice as hard as it should.
Minda said in a tight little voice, “Just so you know, Mr. Haynes, Mr. Hackett's behavior was not untoward.”
“Save your big words, Miz Haynes. This is not Gleesburg.” Brix mounted his horse. “He's got no right to put his lips anywhere on you.”
“For your information...” She looked up at him in the saddle. “It was unexpected. I was very surprised.”
“Didn't seem like you minded it.”
She sighed long and hard. “Mr. Haynes, he was just being gallant. Polite. You needn't act insulted. He's right. You did trick me into marrying you. And you're leaving.” She raised her arm, put her hand on his sleeve. His skin burned through the twill. “But I'll still be here, and I'll need friends. Mr. Hackett seems like a fine man, and he speaks well of Katie. I assured him she'll be back in school come autumn. It'll be time for Neddie, too, then.”
“Don't think he'll be satisfied, just being your friend.” Just saying it tied Brix's
stomach into a sickly knot. He wanted to make yesterday's kiss the real thing. He was a healthy man, and she was a beautiful woman. It wasn't any more complicated than that. Especially since he was leaving first thing in the morning.
“Nonsense. Mr. Hackett's simply being kind.” She put on her riding gloves.
“Now, get on your horse and hurry home, Miz Haynes. We got time for a short lesson with my Peacemaker. Then I got to help Monty and Clem. Finish up our day in the fields.”
“Monty and Clem?”
“Field hands. Their pa, Donny Black, farms the next place over. You ought to come out and meet them sometime. Now, those fine hardworking boys are my opinion of a gentleman.” He gave her quick nod, caught her in the corner of his eye tying Ida Lou's old sunhat on her head. That gave him a twinge of satisfaction.
Brix kneed Norman Dale's buckskin into a full gallop. Storm clouds clumped overhead like West Texas grew sagebrush, dark as his own spirit.
Hell, he might be a rough and tumble cowpoke, but he knew what was proper and what wasn't. Truth to tell, Minda hadn't done anything like Esperanza's vulgar embrace with Rawley Snate, but that sorry memory wrestled with his mind. And he was leaving tomorrow morning. Leaving with another man in hot pursuit of his wife.
He heard her hoof beats behind him. With each thud of his horse's hooves, his own confusion pounded. He didn't want a wife, but now that he had one, she was his and his alone.
But what if she didn't want the same?
Her payback would oblige her for a time, but what would happen after that? She might want a man like Hackett who didn't wear denim and buckskin and who spoke with fancy words.
At the homestead, he stabled his horse, gently in spite of his temper, saw her dust close behind him on the road from town, and went inside to check the kids.
Silly's face felt warm, but her eyes were bright. Still, he worried. Was it some strange new disease killing her slow? The loss of so much of his family already came back like a rash he couldn't stop scratching.
He looked around but didn't know where Minda had stashed the willow bark. Had she tossed it away? Damn better not.
Katie hustled over to him, freckles making her bright cheeks look like strawberries. “Uncle Brix, I got peas shelled and potatoes peeled for stew.”
She was a wonder, that girl. Most kids were trouble, but he'd miss these when he left. “Sounds good to me. Cookie's chuck along the trail isn't anything like the table you set here.”
The little girl preened.
“And me, Uncle Brix, I want a dog,” Neddie said.
“You got your chickens to care for, and plenty of barn cats. And that heifer.”
“But that's the reason. Dogs herd cows.”
“We only got one cow,” Katie told her brother. “And Mabel doesn't need a dog. She minds good. I want a pup just for fun.”
“But the heifer? That's two.” Neddie said, and Brix felt a stab. The young'un likely didn't know his prize pet might be bound for somebody's dinner table. Maybe even his own. But Brix's mood cheered a bit. Maybe he'd turn the lad into a cattleman like himself.
“No dog. I like dogs fine, but you got your hands full. Now there's Minda coming up.” Her name settled sweet on his tongue. “Don't you get scared now, if you hear a bang. All right? I need some time alone with her to show her how to handle a gun.”
And some time alone with her for other things.
“Papa had a gun. He taught Mama, too.” Neddie nodded. For the first time, Brix realized Minda had somehow made time to trim the lad's hair. He reached out and ruffled it, and felt a twinge. Hell, that boy's smile could bring a statue to life.
“Now, you keep Silly's ears covered if you've the need. Minda and I, we won't be long.”
Outside, he waited for her by the fence. She came out of the barn, her face cautious as she looked at him.
“Time for your lesson,” he called.
Her cheeks turned pink like they had then and there at the altar. Just the thought of it, of their wedding kiss, made him know he was a man. Against his trousers, his arousal came to life.
“In a moment, please. Let me put my parcel away and check the children.” She wasn't in the house long and didn't seem as peeved with him now.
“Over here, Miz Haynes.”
When she came across the farmyard over to him, he thought he saw a glimmer of a smile. Like before, he held her next to him, her shoulder and arm under his, showed her how to hold the Colt, explained how to peer and aim, cock and fire.
He gave good directions, else he wouldn't have made it long as a point rider, but right now, the smell of roses in her hair was too distracting. And that tuft of feathers and cloth on her head, why it wasn't silly at all. It settled just right inside the rolls and coils of her hair.
He breathed deep, wishing he had the courage to let her hair fall down long and loose like yesterday. Holding her along side himself, heating up at the warmth of her, he recalled full well what glory lingered beneath her jacket front. He'd seen enough in the lantern light to know he wanted to see more, see it all. Have it all.
But then he reminded himself that what he wanted could well bring on a child. He had enough worries with these three. No need to bring on more responsibility.
But she was his. He'd heard her I Do, watched her sign her name. She had his ring on her finger, but did he need to put his brand on her to keep men like Caldwell Hackett off her trail?
He fired and missed. She fired. A green glass bottle shattered to bits.
“Oh, Brixton! I did it! I did it!” She stuck the gun in her pocket and clapped her hand like she was at an opera or some other fancy thing.
“You did all right, Minda.” He whooped with her, but inside he knew her aim was just beginner's luck. She had a long way to go to hit a moving target, or even a second bottle.
“Brixton, I learned something new, and I did it! I think I'm a fast learner! Thanks for teaching me.”
At that, he turned her inside his arms and tightened his hands at the back of her waist. Drawing her close, he wished he'd taken off her thick suede jacket first. But that would be later.
This was now. “You got a lot more to learn, Minda. And I'm real glad to be your teacher.” He breathed the words just before his lips touched hers, reminding him he was a man who needed every kind of nourishment there was. Her arms came up around his neck, and he knew she stood on the tips of her toes. He bent to her mouth and tasted cherries warmed by Nebraska wind.
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* * *
Chapter Seven
The twilight was hot and thick with dark gloomy clouds, and once in a while, thunder smacked the prairie miles away.
“I'll be sitting outside on the porch, Miz Haynes, lighting up this long-nine,” Brixton said after supper, wiggling a cigar at her, “unless of course you need me to help you some.”
Minda knew that little came between a man and his smoke, and he likely didn't mean the offer. But his assistance actually would be welcome. “Why, it'd be nice if you braided Katie's hair. We've just washed it, and she enjoys it so.”
“Sure thing,” he said, not without enthusiasm. But he didn't meet her eyes. Nor had he all through supper.
She sighed. He was back to using her formal name, too. His last kiss during their shooting lesson, the kiss that had taken all the power from her knees, had brought on her deepest fear. He truly was leaving. That was the farewell kiss he'd promised her.
Her heart paused for a second while her throat clenched.
Had he even told the children good-bye? He'd be gone by sunup.
Shaking her head with a strange sadness, Minda rinsed Priscilla in the washtub. Now all three had had their Saturday night baths. Maybe she could get her husband to sing the baby to sleep like he had last night. One last time. Neddie, too.
Neddie-boy drooped like a morning glory closing up until the next day, but still he fought sleep. In his arms, he held tight the foolish toy dog she'd tried to fashion out of Ida Lo
u's old brown shawl.
With his fingers gentle on Katie's hair, her husband sat in the rough X-shaped chair. He'd finally revealed to her that he'd made it himself years ago.
Well, he wouldn't be sitting in it much longer. Her heart hammered with a cruel disappointment. He hadn't been the husband she came for, so why was his departure so painful? Was it the humble lifestyle Norman Dale had left behind? The children she hadn't expected?
Or simply a woman's heart? Thinking of Brix's touch, his lips that seemed to give her life, the closeness where she felt the raging power between his legs ... No. He'd taken her to be the children's mother, nothing more. He was just a healthy man with masculine urges.
She tried to close off her unhappy thoughts. Priscilla fussed under the drying towel. Even though she'd eaten a bit at supper, her skin felt warm despite the cooling bath. And, Minda remembered with horror, she'd left the mercantile without the fever remedy she'd come for.
As she dressed the baby, her thoughts of the mercantile reminded her of Caldwell Hackett. Had he been impolite and indecent? And had she been demure enough? Whether she'd been tricked or not, she was a married woman.
But for how long? Did Brixton intend to hold her to her vows once her payback was done? Couldn't she seek an annulment if the marriage were never consummated?
Her cheeks burned. Caldwell Hackett had made it clear he never supported the subterfuge. That she had a friend. And as Brixton had ranted, more than a friend ... Did that mean Minda had a beau?
She certainly didn't have a husband.
“What's your brother got there?” Brix asked Katie, interrupting Minda's murky thoughts.
“Oh, it's a toy dog now, but it was a shawl before.” Katie giggled. “Mo ... Minda rolled it up and tied some ribbons here and there so he's got a head and ears. And some legs.”
Minda hid her warming face by tucking Priscilla into her little bed. It was a homely, amateur toy, and she didn't want her husband's ridicule. But Ned had fallen in love with it right away. Then, she made up her mind. She'd heard her husband refuse the children's request a number of times, but he was leaving. What did he care if the children had a dog or not?
