by Linda Broday
“I thought you might be hungry.” She spoke low when he and Luke joined them.
His gaze brushed her—the base of her throat where her pulse throbbed, her chin, her hair—everywhere but into her eyes. Those he avoided. Had she embarrassed him by what she considered a “wifely” duty?
“You didn’t need to go to so much trouble. Pop could’ve come up to the house and gotten it if you’d hollered.”
“It wasn’t any trouble.”
“Paaaaaa.” Marley Rose stretched out her arms. A silly grin covered her face when Duel took her.
“There she goes calling you Pa again.” Luke wiped the sweat from his face with a handkerchief. “You never did explain the particulars, brother.”
“Not anything to it.” A frown deepened the crevices around Duel’s mouth. “Won her in a poker game in Cactus Springs. Her father didn’t want her, was determined to sell her that night if I hadn’t taken her. Felt sorry for the young’un. Didn’t want to see her wind up with someone worse than me.”
“You don’t say? I kinda assumed she belonged to Jessie.” Luke sent her a long, piercing stare.
The man’s persistence hadn’t dimmed even after she lied about her name. It took all of her control to be polite. “I wish that were true.”
“Way I see it, brother, you’re all the kin the kid’s got. Why don’t you just accept the fact?”
“’Cause I’m not, that’s why. Don’t want her growing up under false pretenses. Marley’s not my flesh and blood. I’ll never give her reason to think otherwise.” Duel settled down on the quilt Jessie had spread, and sat the child between his legs.
Jessie handed him a chunk of bread and watched him promptly tear off a piece for Marley. His tender care of “Two Bit,” as he called her, reinforced the hope that he’d one day see his flawed logic. Being a parent wasn’t about the big moment, but all the little ones that come after to fill a child’s life. It was about molding and shaping, helping a child to grow and learn. Maybe someday she could convince him.
Now was not the time, however. Luke’s infernal prying had set his nerves on edge. As well as her own. The younger brother either suspected something or else shared Vicky’s snoopiness. At the moment, she didn’t care which as long as he left them alone.
Slight movement caught her attention. At the edge of the clearing appeared an animal of some sort. When it stood, she saw a bandage around its leg.
“Duel, that’s the dog we doctored.” She pointed toward it.
“Yep, Yellow Dog was gone when I got up. Along about midmorning I spotted him. Stays at the edge of the field, won’t come any closer. Acts as scared as he did last night.”
“Poor thing. I imagine he is. Who knows what happened to him.” The animal wagged his tail as if he wanted to join them. His mournful whine carried on the breeze.
“Come on, boy. Come.” She whistled for him.
“Won’t do a lick of good, Jessie girl. Ain’t gonna come till he gits good an’ ready.” Walt wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
Sure enough, the dog lay back down, his droopy head resting in the dirt. Familiar pain ran the length of her form. Yet, time could mend bones…and broken spirits.
There were days she barely remembered Jeremiah’s rages. The days when he kept her locked in her room. The nights when he took what he wanted, knowing she’d dare not resist. At times it seemed more a horrible dream than reality.
Then there were moments when the remembering suffocated her with unbearable intensity.
“Give the dog time. It’ll come around.” Duel’s gentle admonition invaded her thoughts.
Seated an arm’s length away, she watched him caress Marley’s dark locks. Her tall husband had a tenderness, a compassion that was rare. He’d trusted her, asking in return only that she be a mother for the child.
Tears filled her eyes, blurring his firm jaw, sculpted cheekbones, and Roman nose. He was a proud man who’d never let her down, who was proving he’d stand by her through thick and thin. Her gaze drifted to his mouth and the deep lines on each side. The thought of his lips on hers released tiny flutters in her belly. Her boldness shocked her.
Still, daydreams didn’t hurt anyone. She’d never tell him he’d be an easy man to love. It would be her own little secret.
Jessie glanced away and encountered Luke’s stare. A flush rose. The quizzical lift of his brow told her he’d caught her studying her husband.
*
At day’s end, Duel dropped a bucket into the well and turned the crank to hoist it back up. The sweat and dirt covering him would have to come off before he sat down at the supper table.
Both men balked like stubborn mules, but he’d finally convinced Pop and Luke to return to Vicky’s for the night.
The less his brother came around, the better…for Jessie’s sake as much as his. Pride swelled in his chest for her quick thinking earlier. Despite Luke’s muttering that Rumford seemed a strange name, he’d accepted it. At least for the moment. Only Duel didn’t like the way Luke kept studying her, not that he could blame him. Any man would find her easy on the eyes. He sighed. Lord knows he had his hands full with his meddlesome siblings.
That dadblasted soiree Vicky had cooked up for Saturday would certainly test them all. Every citizen in Tranquility would have questions galore. Still, he entertained no doubts that his wife could handle them. She’d become quite a trouper.
He doused his head in the bucket of water. Though his entire body needed an ice-water drenching, he settled for the upper portion. Getting Jessie out of his thoughts seemed next to impossible. Even Pop and Luke had remarked on his absent-mindedness. Fact of the matter was, the woman just didn’t appear sisterly in the least. She and Vicky had nothing in common.
It was her strangely colored eyes that pulled at him. He couldn’t glance at her without thinking of his mother’s china. Graceful and dainty like the dishes, yet she possessed a spine of steel. Her long, elegant fingers fascinated him. A twinge of guilt shot through him; with the hard work ahead, it wouldn’t take long for her soft, beautiful hands to redden and crack.
If… Enough money would take her to California, Montana, or even the Alaskan Territory. Life wouldn’t be any easier, but a woman could get lost in the vastness.
He’d give anything to keep her safe.
And he wished to high heaven he didn’t want her so much.
A tug on his back pocket alerted him. He jerked upright.
“Bleh, bleh.” The nanny goat had pulled the big red handkerchief from his hip pocket and calmly chewed on it.
“You good-for-nothing critter.” When he yanked it away, a loud rend brought a curse. “Now look what you did.”
The handkerchief had a long tear, not counting the fact that it dripped with goat spittle.
“I oughta skin you and feed your sorry carcass to the buzzards. You wait. When Marley’s had her fill of your milk, I might do it.”
He kicked the bucket that sat beside the well and stuffed the fabric back in his pocket. The skittering container spooked the nanny, who took off like a shot.
“Go ahead and run away, see if I care. Good riddance.”
Mumbling a string of curses, Duel opened the door to the house, pausing to hang his hat on the nail just inside.
“Pa pa. Ma ma ma ma ma ma.”
Marley’s gleeful babbling eased the tiredness from his bones. If one could bottle the girl’s spirit, it would bring a hefty fortune, he mused. He pictured himself traveling the countryside with his two ladies, hawking the elixir. For a moment he wondered about his son and how it would have been to have heard his boy call him Papa just once.
“Maaaaaa.” Marley tugged on his buckskinned leg, trying to stand. He bent to pick her up.
“Hey, Two Bit. Where’s your mama?” Her chubby cheek was soft taffy against his lips.
“Pa pa. Ma ma.”
“Duel. Can you say Duel, little darlin’?”
“Paaaa.”
He turned his mouth from her prying fin
gers, and when he did, he spied a vision in ice-blue satin. Jessie stood frozen in the curtained alcove that served as a bedchamber.
Except for her auburn hair, she could have been Annie. Duel tried to swallow, only to find his mouth had become stone dry.
Memories spun, encircling his head in a flurry of flashes. His wedding day…his beautiful bride…the vows…the breathtaking wedding gown of ice-blue satin Tom Parker had insisted his daughter wear.
“I’m sorry. I only wanted to try it on, it was so pretty.”
He barely heard Jessie’s low murmur. The anguish came from a great distance.
“I’ll take it off. It was cruel of me to upset you. It wasn’t my intention, Duel. You must believe me.”
Pain came in huge, gulping waves, threatening to drown him. He sat Marley Rose on the floor before whirling out the door.
Twelve
For well past the supper hour, Duel sat hunched beside the grave. Despair flogged his spirit. How could he entertain thoughts of another woman when he’d failed the first so miserably?
He bore the blame for his first wife’s death as surely as if he’d sent a piece of hot lead into Annie’s breast. In all reality, he’d committed murder. Jessie had done no worse than he. Using a fingertip, he lovingly traced the name on the cold granite.
“Remember me always, my love,” Annie had said in the final moments. “Take good care of our babe. Tell him how much his mother loved him.”
She never knew the babe lived only a few short hours. Burdened with incompetence, he’d not been able to save the fragile little life Annie had entrusted to his care.
He’d waited all night for Jonas, his hired hand, to return with the doctor. He should’ve taken into account the man’s lust for the bottle. He found Jonas in the saloon, stinking drunk. Jonas had never even told Doc Mabry that Annie needed him. Wild with fury, Duel had knocked the man to the floor. It was bad enough he’d let Annie down, but then he had to face her father’s wrath.
“It’s all your fault, McClain.” Pure hate had blazed from Tom Parker’s eyes. The man knew how deeply to thrust the dagger. “You killed her. My daughter would be alive if she’d never met you. I warned her of her folly in marrying a bounty hunter.”
Duel never bothered to defend himself. Wasn’t any use, because for every word Judge Parker uttered, he damned himself ten times over. He rested his face against the cool stone.
*
“Never saw a man love anyone the way Duel loved his Annie. Why, the sun rose an’ set in that woman’s smile.” Walt tipped his head sideways and gave Jessie a crooked grin. “Not sayin’ he won’t feel that way about you. Gotta give him time.”
There was one small problem: they didn’t have any time. Not if Luke put two and two together. Besides, all the hours and minutes in the world couldn’t make her husband forget his true love. Jessie had pretty much ruined any chance of that happening.
“You couldn’t know he’d go loco over one dress, Jessie girl.” Walt seemed to understand his son’s disturbed frame of mind. He patted Jessie’s arm, but it did little to calm her fears.
“Annie’s wedding gown, of all things.” The ache made it hard to breathe.
Three days had passed. In that time, she’d had the briefest of contact with Duel. She could count the words he’d uttered to her on one hand. As one gone mad with grief, he rose each morning before daylight and worked until well after night set in, plowing and planting. He looked for any number of chores to prevent him from darkening the door to the house.
Fearful that he’d stop eating altogether, she took meals to the barn for him. From the way his clothes hung on his lanky frame, he’d eaten far too little of the food. Most likely he’d fed it to Yellow Dog, who continued to hang around at a distance.
“If only I had minded my own business, shown more respect for Annie’s belongings. For God’s sake, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.”
Deep concern had led her to confide in Walt. With the older man’s help, she came to understand Duel’s behavior and the importance of the gown.
“None of this is your fault. That son of mine’s got a barn full of good horse sense, but sometimes he forgets to use it.”
“A person can’t help the way he feels, no more than he can stop breathing,” Jessie reminded him softly. Walt opened up his arms, and she leaned against him.
Last night she’d watched Duel from the window. A full moon cast eerie shadows around his silhouette. From afar she’d shared his inconsolable sorrow.
“Don’t worry, he’ll git his gumption back. Cain’t say it’d do a whole lot of good, but I could give him a talkin’ to.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” His father might send him running in the other direction and drive a larger wedge between them. She didn’t dare risk that. “And please don’t mention our conversation to him. I’d die if he found out. As it is, I worry I’m betraying him.”
“This has gotta be hard for you, Jessie. It’s near impossible for any woman to live in another wife’s house—the constant reminders. Been better if you could have started fresh with your own doodads.”
She couldn’t bear to look at Annie’s clothes, much less wear any except a few necessities, despite Duel’s blessing. Drawers, chemises, and nightgowns he’d never see. However, the two dresses she owned wouldn’t last long with repeated washings.
“How was it you arrived in Tranquility without so much as an extra stitch, gal?”
Walt’s question startled Jessie. She frantically groped for a suitable explanation.
I’ll see you in hell before I let you leave this house, woman. Little did Jeremiah know that he’d beat her there. She hoped he found the flames to his liking.
“A fire.” Another lie added to the passel she’d already told. Keeping her gaze on the tall figure out the window, she justified their usefulness. “A fire burned everything I owned. I barely escaped with my life.” At least part of it was true.
Walt clucked sympathetically. “Reckon that explains the bruises and whatnots.”
“I don’t like to think about it.” No matter how much logic she used, lying to Walt weighed heavily on her conscience. Kindhearted as the day was long, he’d quickly accepted her as a daughter. Alone in an unfamiliar town, in a farce of a marriage, she’d found a staunch ally.
From the first moment, the elder McClain’s twinkling eyes and his sense of fair play had drawn her to him. Same as now when she finally met his clear gaze. Her affection for Walt was growing by leaps and bounds.
Fine way to show it, though—by lying to him.
The man gave her a friendly pat. “Nosiness runs in the family, but I didn’t want to ask. Figured you’d say in your own good time.”
She kissed his grizzled cheek. “I appreciate that. I wondered where Duel got his quiet ways, especially after meeting Vicky and Luke. Now I know.”
The main problem left was how to get Duel talking again and back into the house. Marley Rose needed him. And she so missed his company.
*
A light rain Saturday morning raised Duel’s hopes that Vicky would call off the soiree she’d planned. No such luck.
“Your sister expects you to be there, an’ no excuses.” Walt gave him the same stern, no-nonsense stare he had used when he caught Duel smoking grape vines behind the barn. Or the time he found Duel stealing a kiss from little Lucinda Moore.
Now, as then, the look made Duel uncomfortable. They’d butted heads more than once, something a few trips to the woodshed cured. Pop had taught him respect in spite of his rebellion.
“You’ll do right by Jessie, son.” Again, that tone left the “or else” unsaid. It appeared Jessie had completely charmed his father as she did anyone who spent a minute in her company.
“Plan on it, Pop.” Guilt that he’d neglected her and Marley was already eating at him. They’d not asked for anything more than a home and someone to watch over them. Of late, he’d not done much of the latter. Why had he ever thought he could?
“Don’t plan—do it. The lady’s been through a peck o’ trouble to be by your side.”
What had Jessie told his father? Not that he blamed her if she’d spilled the whole truth. He knew he’d frightened her that night he flew out of the house. Before he messed up good, he’d better find out what and pronto.
“One thing I’ve learned, Pop, and that’s to listen to you. Don’t intend to stop now.” Funny thing was, the older Duel got, the smarter his father became.
“Ain’t so old you can pull the wool over my eyes neither.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“I got eyes. I saw where you been sleepin’ in the barn.” Walt’s squinty glare accused and convicted him. “That’s why you were so all-fired agin me stayin’ here.”
“This is my business, Pop. Stay out of it.”
“Ain’t right for a man an’ wife to start a life that way.”
He had found a whole lot of things weren’t right in the world. Duel swallowed his anger. He hadn’t meant for Jessie and Marley Rose to pay for his shortcomings.
*
A few hours later, he dodged the hurt in Jessie’s gaze as he helped her and Marley from the wagon. He’d tried to apologize several times on the ride to the Austin residence, but the words got stuck in his throat. Fancy that; he was more insecure in facing his wife than all the times he’d stared down the barrel of a forty-five in the hands of a killer. Big difference.
The only risk with the latter was knowing a bullet could send him to glory.
“Pa pa pa.” Marley patted his shoulder as if she couldn’t touch him enough.
Self-reproach for his dereliction didn’t make the knot in his belly disappear. He would make up for it, he promised.
“Duel, Jessie, I’m glad to see you finally made it.” Vicky waved to them from the barn door. From behind her drifted the cheerful strains of fiddle music.
“Looks like everyone in town came for this shindig.” He grumbled low, casting a dispirited glance at the number of wagons and carriages packing the yard.
“I heard that.” Vicky took her niece from his arms. “I have only one rule, brother.”
