by Lynda Bailey
She remembered being called that when she was a small child. When her mother had still been alive. It had been her father’s pet name for her.
Tears jumped to her eyes. “Papa—”
“Shh.” He moved closer, drawing her into his embrace. “You need to listen now, Mattie, honey. Nothing that has happened was ever your fault. Stop blaming yourself. Stop running from who you are. You’ll be all right, honey. Trust yourself.”
“Yes, trust yourself, darling,” her mother added. “We love you.”
“We love you very much, Mattie-girl.”
Her parents stepped back, their arms around each other. The dual image weakened, dissipating like a teardrop in the desert. Matt stretched out her arms. “Don’t go! I need you.”
“You have everything you need, Mattie-girl. Right here.”
“Please take me with you.”
They both shook their heads.
“You can’t come with us, darling,” her mother said. “It’s not your time. But we’ll be waiting for you when it is.”
The apparition faded. Grew paler until Matt could see through their bodies. Until she saw nothing at all. She waited for sorrow to clutch her heart. Waited to weep because she couldn’t be with her parents. Rather than sadness, joy lifted her heart. She now knew exactly where she belonged. And with whom.
On a soft sigh, she returned to blissful slumber.
~ ~ ~
Matt stepped onto the lowest rung of the corral and whistled for Turk. With a whinny, the gelding trotted toward her. She held out the two carrots she’d snitched from the root cellar. The animal munched them loudly.
She rubbed a hand along his neck. “Have you missed me, boy? Because I’ve sorely missed you.” He tossed his head and she smiled, scratching his favorite spot behind his ears. “Doc says I can’t ride for another week, though. Sorry I can’t take you for a run across the prairie. I know how much you like that.”
Turk ambled off, but she stayed perched on the fence and tipped her face to the cloudless sky. Having been cooped up in the house for the past week, she appreciated the sun’s warmth on her skin and the breeze flitting through her hair. She inhaled the bouquet of blooming spring flowers gliding on the air.
She folded her arms on the top rung and rested her chin on back of her hands with a sigh. She wondered —yet again—where Logan was. Her husband had been conspicuously absent during her recovery. She hoped that didn’t mean something more was wrong with the ranch.
In spite of everything, tranquility blanketed her shoulders. Though she still felt terrible about the stampede, the oppressive guilt she’d first experienced over Josh’s death was gone. She remembered the dream where her parents had said that nothing was her fault. That she wasn’t being punished. For some reason, she believed that, even though it was just a dream.
Her parents also said she had to stop running from herself. That everything she needed was right here. She believed that as well. Because she now knew the only thing she needed was Logan.
She no longer wanted to go to Kansas City or any place else. She wanted to stay here. With him. Because she loved him.
Another sigh escaped. Realizing she was in love with Logan hadn’t been the earth-shattering experience some of her penny novels had said it would be. Rather it had been a gentle comprehension. Like dawn turning into day.
Maybe she’d been in love with him from the first moment they met. Or maybe her love had grown over the years. Either way, she’d been too stubborn and too stupid to recognize it. Now she faced the task of telling him of her love. She closed her eyes.
Logan had married her to get the ranch. She accepted that fact. She could only hope he liked her well enough to want her to stay and be his wife.
The jingling sound of an approaching carriage interrupted her thoughts. Turning, she saw an elegant, black buggy, pulled by a beautiful palomino horse, roll into the yard. She jumped down and walked over to meet the visitors. She didn’t expect the people to be Daisy Upton and her father.
Daisy’s bright, golden curls bobbed as Mr. Upton reined the palomino to a stop. Dressed in a deep blue cloak and matching pin hat, Daisy looked as regal as a princess.
Normally, Matt would have felt inferior next to Daisy. After all, her denims were far from regal. But she didn’t. Not anymore. She smiled. “Afternoon. What brings you folks here?”
Daisy angled up her chin to look down her nose at Matt then turned away. Mr. Upton answered, “I needed to see Mr. Cartwright and it was such a nice day, I thought I’d bring Daisy with me. Is he around?”
Matt shook her head. “He’s out with the herd.”
“Oh, dear. We have a package he ordered. A gift for his wife.”
That inched up Matt’s eyebrows. “I’m his wife.”
Daisy scoffed. “You?”
Her smile deepened. “Yes, me.” She extended her hand. “I’ll take it.”
Mr. Upton produced a small bundle from his pocket. Wrapped in a swatch of black fabric, it felt weighty in Matt’s hands.
“You be sure and tell your husband we stopped by.”
“I will, and Daisy.” She waited until the younger girl looked at her. “I wanted to say thanks for helping me with that dress. It turned out real pretty.”
Crimson color rose to Daisy’s cheeks as she averted her gaze. Matt stepped back and Mr. Upton turned the carriage around then headed out. When they were through the gate, she opened the small package. And her breath stalled in her chest.
Nestled in the bed of silk lay a ring.
Logan had gotten her a ring. A wedding ring.
Tears burned her throat. She held the band between her finger and thumb, admiring how the sunlight glistened off the gold. But it wasn’t the sunlight making the ring wink. It was the moisture gathering in her eyes.
Her heart swelled with happiness as she closed the ring in a tight fist then cradled her fist to her chest. She spun in a happy circle several times. If anyone saw her they’d think her crazy as a loon, dancing in the yard by herself. She didn’t care.
She carefully put the ring in her pocket. The first time she wore it, she wanted her husband to have place it on her finger.
Logan might not love her, but maybe this ring meant he wanted her to stay after all.
Chapter Twelve
Logan knew the instant Matt stepped from the house because everything stopped. The birds singing, the wind blowing, his heart beating.
Even from across the yard, he could see a healthy tint graced her cheeks, like her skin had been kissed by the sun. She must have seen him ride in. Had she been waiting for him? His pulse quickened at the thought. Just as quick, he squelched the feeling.
He deliberately turned his back to unsaddle Sergeant and worked to reinforce the wall he’d built around his heart over the past week. Seven of the hardest, longest days of his life. Seven days where he’d come to the heart-wrenching conclusion that Matt had to leave him. She couldn’t stay out here on the prairie any longer. It just wasn’t safe.
He’d almost lost her—and more than once. First when she was shot and thrown from the saddle. Then when the longhorns nearly trampled them both. And finally when she lapsed into that deep sleep. His body went cold at the memory of how her heartbeat had grown fainter, her breathing shallower until both finally ceased altogether. How utterly helpless he’d been.
Less than half a minute had passed before her heart and lungs resumed their work, bringing her back to him. But it had been enough time for him to realize he couldn’t protect her. He wouldn’t take any more chances with her life.
She came to stand by Sergeant’s head. “Hi.”
Oh, Lordy, he wasn’t strong enough for this right now. For her beautiful smile and lyrical voice. For her wildflower scent to eddy around him. It made him want to bury his face into the curve of her neck and inhale deeply. He’d only been near her for two seconds and already the barrier around his heart was cracking.
“Morning,” he gritted out.
S
he threaded her fingers through Sergeant’s mane. He wanted her fingers touching him, not his damn horse. Wanted to feel her body pressed to hers. Her smooth skin beneath his hands. Clamping down hard on his molars, he lugged the saddle off and hoisted it on a corral rung. He snatched a curry comb off a nearby bench.
She dipped under the horse’s neck, her hands stuffed in her pockets. “How are things at the herd?”
“Quiet.” He moved to the ass end of his horse and concentrated on combing Sergeant’s coat rather than inhaling her wildflower fragrance.
“I haven’t seen you around. I’ve seen all the other hands, but not you.”
He could have sworn he heard a whisper of longing in her voice. He attacked the horse’s tail with a vengeance. “We’re doing week shifts either at the herd or brush popping then one day back at the ranch. After the stampede, I don’t want to risk losing any more cattle.”
“How many did we lose?”
“About half, but we’ve managed to collect thirty head or so.”
“A hundred and thirty head doesn’t seem like much of a herd to bother driving north.”
“I know, but with Applegate’s beeves, they’ll be over two hundred head.”
“So we’re gonna combine herds? What about the other ranchers? Have you asked them to join herds, too?”
Exhaustion and his desire for her snapped his brittle patience. “Can we talk about all this later? I’m tired and hungry.” He felt lower than a lizard’s belly when she jumped back a foot.
“Uh, sure.”
She turned toward the house and it took every ounce of his control not to reach for her. Not to bring her back to him. She stopped and he followed her gaze to the rider coming into the yard. Sam Applegate.
The big man had an even bigger grin on his face as he dismounted. He slapped the reins in his hands. “Elisabeth had the baby last night.”
Alarm registered on Matt’s face. “But she said the baby wasn’t due for another month. Is she all right?”
“She’s better than all right. And so’s the boy.”
She clapped her hands, her green eyes sparkling with glee. “A boy? She had a boy? How wonderful!”
Logan felt punched in the gut so hard, stars clouded his vision. He bowed his head at the joy on his wife’s face.
Sam laughed. “Yep. A big, strapping boy just like his daddy and uncle.”
“Oh, Sam. You must stay for the noon meal and tell us everything.”
Matt and Sam went off in the direction of the cookhouse as Logan walked his horse into the barn. Abject despair pulled his heart into his boots. What he wouldn’t give to watch his wife’s belly grow large and round with child. His child.
Hell’s fire.
He had to stop persecuting himself like this because it wasn’t going to happen.
After giving Sergeant an extra heaping of oats, he trudged to the cookhouse. The smell of chicken and dumplings—his favorite—hit him before he opened the door. Chuck piled his plate high, but it might as well have been saw dust for all he tasted.
Sam pushed a biscuit around in the gravy on his plate. “My brother and I were wondering how many men you figure we’ll be needing for the drive north.” He popped the soppy biscuit into his mouth.
“More than what we have now,” Logan answered. “We’re down a man here and I don’t reckon your brother will be willing to leave Elisabeth and the baby. We can’t move both our herds with only six drovers. I’ll have to hire on some more men in town.”
“I’m going, too,” Matt said. “Remember?”
“Doc Bingham said you weren’t to ride.”
She waved a hand. “For another week. I’ll be right as rain by the time we ready to head to Abilene.”
Logan forced his body to its feet. Matt wouldn’t be driving the beeves anywhere. If he had his way she’d be off to Kansas City before she could sit astride Turk’s back. “We still need to hire more men.”
Finished eating, Sam rode home and Chuck readied supplies for the grub wagon at the herd. Though a hundred things demanded his attention, Logan walked beside Matt across the yard to the main house. This was the one thing that needed doing right now.
He closed the door and rubbed the taunt muscles in his neck. “Listen, sweetheart, I have some things to discuss with you.”
She perched herself on a chair. “I do too.”
“All right, but let me go first.”
He sat across the table from her and she held out her hand for his. He hesitated, but took the offering. It might be the last time he ever got to touch her.
He traced the ridge of calluses on her palm. She had such dainty hands. Hands that knew hard work, but were still dainty. Delicate.
“Logan? What’s wrong?”
He cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowing at he studied her slender fingers. “Things have gotten real bad around here. The rustlers are getting more dangerous. We were lucky to have only lost just half the herd and Josh. Some folks have had their ranches burned down. Their entire families killed.”
“We’ve dealt with rustlers before.”
“It’s more than that. Beef prices are at an all-time low. I suspect we’ll make enough money to pay the men from the stockyard sale and the outstanding note on the ranch. Maybe even the bill at the livery. Nothing much more than that.”
A bit of color leached from her cheeks. “It is really that bad?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But what about George and Sam? Are things this bad for them?”
He shook his head. “I can’t speak for their situation. Only for the Standing T.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I reckon we should drive the beeves up to Abilene. Pay the men and clear any Standing T debt.”
She nodded. “Agreed.”
“Then I figure we’ll sell the ranch to Jules Dobson.”
Matt lurched forward. “What? Sell the ranch? Why?”
“Because we won’t be able to make it through next year. Won’t be able to buy any new stock or get more credit.”
“But he said he’d only give us a hundred dollars.”
“That was counting the promissory note. If we pay that off, we should get three hundred.”
“That’s still not anywhere near what the ranch is worth.”
“True, but I don’t see any other choice.”
“Maybe we should hang onto the herd. Wait another year before selling the beeves. The prices should be better then, right?”
“Probably not. Prices have fallen for the past three years. It’s a gamble whether next year will be better. And we still won’t get any credit in the meantime.”
She slumped on her chair, her glassy eyes fixed on him. “I had no idea things were so bad.”
“I didn’t either until your pa passed on. Then I realized how indebted Gene had gotten the ranch just to keep it going. Not that he did a poor job. He didn’t really have a choice. It’s been awful tough these past few years.”
She spread her hands flat on the table, her spine stiff. “All right. We sell. Sell to that rat bastard Dobson.” Fury dripped from her words. “Three hundred dollars isn’t much, but we can take it and start over somewhere else.” Emerald eyes shone at him.
He sucked in a deep breath and ignored the dull thump of his heart in his chest. One battle down. “I’m glad you agree we should sell. I think the best thing would be for you to head to Kansas City.” He switched his gaze to the scarred table. “While I drive the beeves north.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll be going on the drive.”
“No. I’ll make arrangements with Dobson to get the ranch money now. That way, you can go to Kansas City. Now.”
Her forehead furled. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you’ve always wanted to go there and…” He paused to swallow. “Because you’d be safe there.”
“Safe?” The word stretched out like a rattler’s song.
He nodded and this time he reached for her hand.
“There are too many dangers here.”
She pulled her hands from his. “It’s no safer for you.”
“That’s different.”
“Why? Because I’m a girl?”
“Partly.”
“What about Elisabeth? And her baby? Is it safe for them?”
“They aren’t my concern. You are.”
She shoved her chair from the table and crossed her arms. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m being logical.”
“How will you outfit for the drive if I take all the money?”
“Don’t fret yourself about that. Like I said, I’ll make arrangements.”
“But if I’m in Kansas City and the ranch is sold, what will you do after the drive? Where will you go?”
“I’ll hook up somewhere else.” He quirked a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
“But what about…us? Our marriage?”
The dull throb in his chest magnified. “Reckon we’ll get that annulment you talked about. Since we’ve never had proper relations as a man and wife, it shouldn’t be difficult to do.”
For the longest time, silence boomed in the room. Finally Matt tossed her hair in that defiant manner of hers and met his gaze. The wetness glinting in her eyes rammed into his chest.
“Fine. Annul the marriage. And I’ll go to Kansas City, but I’m not taking any money.”
His eyebrows snapped together. “Yes you will.”
“No. You held up your end of the bargain by marrying me, so you should have it all. You’ve earned it.”
His frayed patience wore a bit thinner at her cutting tone. “What the hell’s that suppose to mean?”
“It means you never wanted to marry me in the first place. You only married me because the ranch was my dowry. I won’t take the money and leave you with nothing.” She stood and dug into her pocket. “Reckon you’ll be wanting this, too.”
The gold wedding band twinkled in her palm. He rose to his feet. After everything that had happened, the stampede, his wife being hurt, he’d forgotten about the ring. “Where did you get that?”
“Mr. Upton stopped by the other day to deliver it. He said it was a gift for your wife.” She placed it on the table. “Guess you meant it for your next wife.” Her voice hitched on the last word.
