Lonesome Bride

by Megan Hart

  Calhoun's laughter stopped abruptly. He looked abashed. “Oh, sorry, Jed. I didn't know. And the way people talk..."

  "People talk too much,” Jed retorted, effectively cutting off Calhoun.

  The other man shrugged. “Sorry, Jed. So when's the wedding?"

  "Oh, you know how women are,” Jed responded as casually as he could. What had possessed him to blurt out that stupid lie? Caite had already told him she wouldn't marry him. “They're always changing their minds."

  "I reckon I do,” Calhoun agreed ruefully. He had six sisters.

  "Thanks for getting me these papers,” Jed said, touching the brim of his hat. He wanted to get out of the deed office before he told Calhoun any more outrageous falsehoods. Even if they were only to save Caite's reputation.

  "Oh, Jed! I almost forgot!” Calhoun handed him a long, heavy envelope. “This came for you, forwarded from Lonesome. Postmaster out there knows you're a sight more likely to come in here to Staghorn, so I guess he just sent it on out."

  "Thanks, Tay.” Jed turned over the envelope. He slit it open with his thumb and pulled several pages out. After reading the first few lines, he let out a low whistle, feeling an impossible grin stretching his mouth.

  "What is it?” Calhoun asked curiously. “Looks like good news."

  Jed shook his head. “Could be.” He tucked the papers back into the envelope. “It's a copy of the contract Caitleen signed saying she agreed to become the wife of Jed Peters."

  "That's you, ain't it?” Calhoun asked, obviously confused.

  "It sure is,” Jed grinned. “It sure is."

  CHAPTER 14

  Jed left the deed office, his paperwork crumpled and forgotten in one fist. The envelope he had tucked safely into his breast pocket. His mind whirled with possibilities.

  Caite had signed a contract agreeing to marry him. At least, a man with his name. He now carried a copy of that same contract and a letter from Pastor Jonas thanking him for supporting the Baptist bride program. Three sheets of paper and a couple of hundred words that just might change his life.

  Jed headed back to the hotel. He couldn't use this contract, could he? That would be mighty unfair advantage, using the law against her like that. Then again, he'd tried reasoning with her. For some reason she didn't take to his notion she had no real choice than to marry him. Heck, he'd even told her he loved her. Not that she remembered.

  Maybe this contract would be the perfect way to get her to say yes. It might be a little underhanded, sure, but she'd get over that. Besides, Jed thought smugly, all most women want is a reason they can't say no. He had Caite's reason right there in his pocket.

  "Mornin', Jed,” Davis Lacky greeted from his post at the desk.

  At the other man's greeting, Jed paused. In three steps he was over the desk, grabbing Lacky by the shirtfront and hauling him up on his toes. Lacky tried ineffectually to get away, but Jed held him tight.

  "I heard you've been spreading rumors about my intended,” Jed growled, shaking Lacky like a terrier does a rabbit.

  "I don't know what you mean,” Lacky yelped, his face slowly reddening from the tension of his shirt around his throat.

  Jed dropped him in disgust. “You're a liar, Lacky, and a poor one. Don't let me catch you saying anything about me or my bride again, you hear?"

  "Your bride?” Lacky stuttered.

  Jed stabbed his finger at the guest book. “You see what that says, Lacky? Mr. and Mr. Jed Peters. We're as good as married already. Now, I wouldn't write that if it weren't true."

  Lacky smiled and winked at Jed. “I just thought, you know..."

  Jed grabbed Lacky's shirt again and pulled him nose to nose. “Don't think, Lacky! You'll boil what little bit of brains God saw fit to stuff inside that big, ugly head."

  Lacky gulped and nodded, relief evident on his face when Jed let him go again. “Sure, Jed. And I sure do apologize to you."

  "You'll owe an apology to the lady,” Jed threatened. “And I expect you to tell everyone you see what I told you. You hear?"

  Turning his back on the emphatically nodding desk clerk, Jed headed up the stairs. He knew that between Lacky and Calhoun, the news would spread through Staghorn faster than a snake's rattle. Now he only had to go and share the news with Caite.

  * * * *

  The doorknob turned. Jed must be back. Caite threw off the covers and sat up, glaring. She knew she must look a fright, but she was beyond caring.

  "You!” she shouted, pointing at him accusingly.

  Jed shut the door behind him carefully, then looked at her in surprise. “What about me?"

  "It is all your fault!” Caite cried, a sob hitching her chest.

  Why is that cussed man grinning at me like that?

  Jed crossed the room and made himself comfortable beside her on the bed. With another glare and a haughty sniff, Caite moved away from him.

  "Now, Caitey, why are you looking at me all horns and rattles?"

  He had called her Caitey again. The endearment brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. She threw herself face down onto the pillows, beating at them with her fists.

  Sobbing, she blurted out the entire embarrassing story. She even told the part about Lawry forcing his kiss upon her, and how the two women in the street had cut her cold. When it was all out, she felt much better. She rose from the pillows to look at him.

  "He kissed you?” Jed said menacingly. His fists were clenched.

  "Yes, that is what I said,” Caite replied. “But, Jed, it was horrible the way those women looked at me! Like I was some sort of fallen woman!"

  "He kissed you?” Jed repeated. His fists were clenching and unclenching, and his jaw was set. He looked like he was about to spring from the bed and start pounding the walls.

  "Are you listening to me?” Caite snapped. She did not give a tinker's damn about Lawry's kiss. She had fended him off with no trouble. What truly was bothering her was the thought that the womenfolk might think poorly of her.

  "He put his hands on you?"

  "Jed!” Caite cried, shaking his shoulder. It was so typical of a man not to know what was really important. “What has gotten in to you?"

  Now he looked at her, finally seeing her instead of whatever revenge scheme he had been planning. “Caite, it doesn't matter what any of those old biddies say."

  Caite threw herself back on the pillows. “Yes, it does! My reputation is ruined, and it's all your fault!"

  She felt his hand on her shoulder, tugging her upright again. She knew she should not let him pull her to his chest the way he was. She most definitely should not allow him the liberty of stroking her hair like that. And she absolutely should not permit him to press his lips against her temple!

  "Jed!” Caite admonished, pulling away before he did something else she should not allow.

  "Hush, Caitey,” he said, pulling her firmly back against him. “I've fixed everything."

  His arms did feel so wonderful around her, she admitted reluctantly. And he was being awfully nice to comfort her so. But it was just this sort of thing that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. Again, she pulled herself away from him.

  "How did you do that?” she asked.

  "Why, I just told a few folks we were practically married, that's all.” He grinned, chucking her under the chin. “It'll be all around town in few hours. Your reputation isn't ruined. Folks are mighty understanding about couples who are engaged."

  "Married!” Caite cried. “We are not getting married!"

  He grinned again. “Well, now, according to this letter I have here, we are."

  She narrowed her eyes at him. What tricks was he pulling now? “What letter?"

  He pulled an envelope from his breast pocket. “I have here a signed contract that says you, Caitleen O'Neal, have agreed to marry a Mr. Jed Peters of Lonesome, Montana.” He grinned. “Jed Peters. That's me."

  Caite remembered signing that contract all right. She even remembered Pastor Jonas telling her he woul
d forward a copy to her future husband in Lonesome. She snatched the envelope and its precious sheaf of papers out of Jed's grasp and looked over them quickly.

  "This contract is null and void.” She fixed him with a look that would have withered a less cocksure man. “This was the contract between me and your father."

  "It just says Jed Peters,” Jed said, still grinning at her. “Doesn't say which one."

  "You and I both know which one,” Caite countered sternly, although excitement was surging through her. If he had taken the time to bring her the contract, might that not mean he cared? “You can't possibly think I'll marry you because of this paper?"

  Jed put his arm around her cajolingly and plucked the contract from her hand. “Look at it this way, Caite. I reckon it's as good a reason as any."

  Caite shoved away from him and off the bed. So it's just another excuse! She scowled, irritated with herself for believing, even for an instant, that the contract meant anything more to him than a way to bend her to his will. Why he should want to she could not decide, but she was not about to let herself be filled with daydreams again. She was no starry eyed girl any longer. She had escaped a loveless marriage once already, despite that stupid contract, and she would not let it bind her this time. She whirled on him, stabbing his chest with her finger with her every word.

  "I could not care less about any paper you have, Jed Peters! I told you before I would not marry you, and that is what I meant!"

  He grabbed her hand, holding it against his chest. “Your reputation, Caitleen,” he reminded.

  Caite thought of how the women on the street had cut her short, and how the men had jeered at her. She did not want to go through that again. Her father's drinking and gambling had isolated her from the good people in East Frankton. Would her actions now do the same here in Staghorn? Could she face a lifetime of pointed fingers and whispered rumors?

  On the other hand, could she stand to live out her years staring across the breakfast table at a man, whose every gesture made her heart pound, all the while knowing he did not love her. How long would it take before she grew to hate him for denying her his heart?

  "I can always go to Lonesome,” she declared, trying ineffectually to tug her hand away from his.

  He would not let her go. “You don't really want to do that, Caite."

  "Why not?” she asked defiantly.

  "You'd be worse off than here. The whole town's filled with saloons, and the type of people who frequent them. You'd end up becoming just what the people here have already accused you of."

  Caite yanked her hand from his grip. “I would never,” She cried, affronted he could think so cheaply of her. “Never!"

  She backed away from him and strode to the dresser. Standing in front of the mirror, she caught a glimpse of her disheveled reflection. Without thinking, she loosed her bun, letting her hair fall to her back, and began tugging a brush through the strands hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. At least that was what she wished to believe was bringing forth the tears. Certainly nothing so foolish as emotion. She would not allow it.

  She heard Jed's slight gasp behind her, but ignored it. There was no need for him to think she noticed every little noise he made. No, better to let him see just how unimportant he really was...

  It was her turn to gasp. Jed had come up behind her, swept the hair away from her neck and planted a kiss at the tender spot at her nape. His lips against her skin was sheer torture.

  "Stop that,” she said weakly.

  "I couldn't help it,” he murmured against her flesh. The movement of his lips as he spoke caused fresh chills to sweep through her. “The sight of your hair down makes me want you so, Caite."

  With great effort, Caite wriggled from his grasp and moved out of his reach. Clutching the hairbrush in her hand as though it were a weapon, she forced her breathing to slow.

  "Then I shall put it back up immediately,” she told him, not daring to admit his words had caused a familiar damp ache to spring up between her thighs.

  "Don't, Caite.” Jed moved toward her and ran his fingers through the silky strands. “Don't fight me, Caitey."

  "Don't ... don't call me that."

  He looked at her, truly puzzled. “Don't call you what?"

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to say the name. “Caitey. Don't call me that."

  "Why not?"

  Because it makes me love you so, she wanted to scream. Instead, she turned her back to him and began pulling the masses of her hair together. “I do not like it."

  She felt his hand on her shoulder and nearly sagged beneath the weight of his touch. At the last moment, she was able to lock her backbone, standing straight. Only the way her heart was trying to leap from her chest betrayed to her how his caress had affected her.

  "I know plenty of things you do like,” Jed teased, trying to encircle her waist.

  She stepped briskly out his embrace, making it perfectly clear she was not amused. “Is that all you ever think about?"

  "I reckon it's all I will think about this winter, when I'm alone,” he told her matter-of-factly.

  "Alone?” She looked at him, startled. “Why will you be alone?"

  "I'm moving out of Heatherfield,” Jed said. “I reckon I'm a mite tired of working my father's land. Thought I'd strike out on my own."

  So what Lorna thought was true. Jed was leaving Heatherfield. But then he would be leaving her! Caite fought the wave of anxiety that filled her at the thought of not seeing him again. It had been one thing for her to think of parting from him, but for him to decide to go was unthinkable. With the reality she might not see him any more looming over her, Caite was hard-pressed to decide which would be worse: living near him without his love, perhaps even hating him, or not living near him at all.

  "Where will you go?” She struggled to keep her voice calm.

  "The cabin. You remember the cabin.” Jed looked at her seductively, but she was too rattled to respond.

  "Of course. You're moving to the cabin?” Relief flooded her. He would not be far away. She had imagined him moving to another state. The cabin would not be so bad. She could still see him. Not that she would want to, of course.

  "That's my land,” he said, pride edging his words. “Lincoln's Homestead Act of ‘62. I just finished signing all the papers today. That was my business in Staghorn."

  "How nice,” she replied, realizing as she spoke she sounded terribly insincere. She tried again. “I mean, how wonderful for you."

  "I've got the mares and Zeus to get me started,” Jed told her, excitement sparking in his emerald eyes. “With Pa's stock, plus what I can breed from Zeus, we'll have the best horseflesh in Montana."

  "Good for you, Jed."

  He grinned saucily at her. “But I'll still get lonely in the winter. Unless you marry me, Caite. How about it?"

  "I do not understand your persistence,” she replied. “You've made it very clear there's a limit to your affections for me. Why do you insist on asking me to marry you?"

  He pondered for a moment. “Comes a time when a man decides he needs himself a partner, Caite."

  Just when she thought she could not be any angrier at him, he had to go and say something like that. Served her right for ridiculously hoping he might have said he cared for her. “A partner! If that is all you want, why not take Shorty?"

  He winked. “Shorty won't keep me near as warm as you would."

  "Then I suppose you shall just freeze by yourself,” she retorted hotly. “And if you ask me, a little cooling down is just what you need!"

  "Would it be so bad, Caitleen?” Jed asked.

  She thought she heard a note of pleading in his voice, but certainly that could not be right. Not from the man who had told her to her face he had no feelings for her. Perhaps she only wished to hear the hint of appeal. “Being married to me, I mean?"

  She turned and met the green eyes so like her own. “A marriage without love is no marriage, Jed."

  He flinche
d, his mouth thinning. He dropped his hand from her shoulder. “You were going to marry my Pa, and you didn't love him."

  "You are not your father,” she replied steadily.

  "I reckon not,” he agreed bitterly. “Or else we'd have been in front of the preacher weeks ago."

  "Your father is a very nice man,” Caite said in exasperation, speaking slowly to drive the words through his thick skull. “And I would have married him. Maybe we would've even grown to care for each other, in time. But it would not have been a real marriage, and you know it. Thankfully, we both were spared the ordeal. He is very much in love with Sally, and she gives him everything he could need."

  "And you?” Jed asked. “What have you gotten out of the deal, Caitleen?"

  "Everyone at Heatherfield has been very kind,” she told him stubbornly.

  "So you take their charity and their pity, and think it's enough?"

  She gasped, heat rushing to color her cheeks. He had known just where to strike at her insecurities. “Pity? Surely you can not believe they merely pity me?"

  He laughed rudely. “Caite, I've seen Lorna take in stray cats not half as out-of-place and sorry as you."

  Tears filled her eyes, and she cursed him again for bringing them there. “You can be so cruel."

  Again, he laughed. “Cruel? Cruel is taunting a man with your body until he aches from just the sight of you. Cruel is giving me just a taste of everything you've got, but pulling it away when I ask for more. I've tried to do the upright thing by making you an honest woman, Caite. Why won't you let me?"

  She wiped her face with the back of her hand, feeling her fingers tremble against her cheek. She was heartsick and weary, tired of fighting him and her emotions. “I do not need you to make me an honest woman, Jed. I won't marry you just to fulfill your lusts. That wouldn't be a real marriage any more than if I'd married your father."

  "I've had a real marriage. I reckon it isn't everything you're dreaming it is."

  Caite's stomach twisted at the mention of his former marriage. “Maybe not. But I know it's more than just an excuse to stop gossip, or to escape from something you don't want to do."