When he could postpone it no longer, he headed to the house, carrying their meager belongings and the last of their food. Maybe Mrs. Lachlan would find a use for pilot bread and dried beef and damp cornmeal. He'd not offer her the lemon drops. Those were his.
Luke smiled in spite of himself. He'd never again taste lemon drops without thinking of that morning when the tart candies were all they'd had left to eat, because they'd given the last of the honey and their pilot bread to the livestock.
And Katie hadn't complained. Not one word.
He stopped in the middle of the path.
Katie had never complained, no matter how cold it got, or how hungry she was, even when they weren't sure they'd find their way back to civilization. They must have traveled a hundred miles on foot, with only the vaguest idea of where they were, and how to get where they were going. They'd fought a blizzard and outlaws together. And when he'd just about given up hope, she'd offered herself to him, because she loved him.
She'd been stronger than most men he'd known. More determined. And a hell of a lot prettier.
She was his wife, and he loved her.
But would she love him, now that she was where she could be reminded of how easy her life could be?
* * * *
In a way Luke was thankful that Mr. Lachlan and the kids were off in the hills. Supper that night was just him and Katie, her mother and Abel Greene. They ate in the kitchen, at the big table. "I've got a woman who comes in to cook most days," Mrs. Lachlan said, as she was setting out bowls for them to serve themselves from the big soup pot. "Emmet insisted, and I didn't argue. Seems like I've spent half my life cooking."
Luke took a thick slice of bread from the basket. It was still warm. His mouth watered, but he waited politely until his mother-in-law had taken a sip of her soup. "I haven't had bread like this since I left home," he told her, once he'd chewed and swallowed his first bite.
"Ma makes the best bread in the world," Katie said. "Wait 'til you taste her biscuits."
Katie and her mother spent the meal talking about family affairs. Luke was just as happy to eat in silence, since he still felt like odd man out. When Abel stood and excused himself, Luke wanted to go with him. He didn't though, because no sooner had the door closed behind the hired man than Mrs. Lachlan said, "Now, Luke, tell me all about yourself. You're from Kansas, Emmet said. Were you born there?"
"No, ma'am. In Indiana. My folks moved to Kansas when I was about three." He went on to tell of his childhood on the homestead on Butternut Creek. When he described the time of the Border Wars, when Jayhawkers and Bushwackers raided back and forth across the border, until no place was safe from their depredations, she shook her head in sympathy.
"I joined up when the call came for volunteers, and stayed in the Army until Lee's surrender," he finished, hoping she wouldn't ask about those years. He had few memories of them that he wanted to share.
"Luke wants to be a stockman," Katie said, when he'd finished his recitation, as brief as he could make it. "I told him he'd find no better land than along the Boise."
He shot her a warning glance. She'd promised she wouldn't ask her folks to help them, and he wanted to make sure she'd remember. Her quick smile showed she had.
"Well, you'll have to go out a ways from town," Mrs. Lachlan said, "But there's still good land there for the taking. Emmet can tell you where the best land will be."
"Thank you, ma'am. I thought I'd take a look around while we're here. I'd like to find a place as soon as I can, so to get started on a house before spring."
"Well, you're welcome to stay here as long as you want. We've plenty of room. But surely you'll wait until after Christmas?"
"Oh, he'll want to be out in a day or two," Katie said before he could answer. "Sitting around isn't something Luke does well." She gave him another quick grin. "Now, Ma, you never did tell me who all's coming for Christmas, and when they'll get here."
"Well, the last I heard, Soomey and Silas were planning to come, but I don't know when. They were due in San Francisco the middle of last month, so they could be here anytime. I told you Tony's been staying here to go to school, didn't I? I haven't heard from William and Flower, but the last letter I got said they hoped to get down. Some of Flower's kin are wintering in Cherry Vale, so there'll be somebody to tend the stock."
"Tony's my...well, I guess you'd call him my cousin. He's my Uncle Silas's adopted son" Katie explained at Luke's look of puzzlement. "I guess I never mentioned him, did I?"
"Land sakes, Katie, even if you had, the poor man probably couldn't keep us all straight. Sometimes I forget who's who," her mother said, laughing. "Now, if you two want to go on into the parlor, I'll bring some tea."
Luke looked at Katie and shook his head slightly. She said, "We're both tired, Ma. I think we'll just go on up. Luke's still got to have that bath we promised him. And I've got to hem that dress of Regina's you gave me. I can't believe she's already taller than me."
"She takes after your pa," Mrs. Lachlan said with a smile. "Go on, then. And Luke? You soak as long as you want. We've plenty of hot water." She shooed them out of the kitchen with both hands.
"I like your ma," Luke said to Katie once they were in their room. He'd expected...well, he wasn't quite sure what he'd expected, but it hadn't been a warm welcome. Not after he'd married Katie with her Pa standing by, rifle at hand.
"She likes you. Oh, Luke, I am so glad to be home." She spun around, her arms flung out, as if to embrace everything in the room. "Look at that bed! I can hardly wait to..." She paused, a pink flush blooming in her cheeks. "Do you realize we've only slept together in a real bed twice? And we've been married a whole month!"
Desire flooded through Luke. Along with regret and shame. "Oh, Katie, girl, you ain't had much of a marriage atall, have you?" He pulled her close and held her, his head resting atop hers. "It'll be better sweetheart. I'll make us a home, soon as I can find land."
She squeezed around his waist. "We'll make a home, Luke. Together." With one hand she started pulling his shirt out of his britches. "Now, you get in there and have a bath. I'll be along in a few minutes to scrub your back."
"Uh, Katie, I don't think you--"
"Git!" She smacked him across the arse. "There's nobody up here to pay attention to what we do tonight. We'd better take advantage of it while we can. My sisters will give us precious little privacy when they get back."
Luke was soaking, half asleep, in a tubful of warm water when the door opened.
"Are you cooked yet?" Katie said. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her, then hung the robe she carried on a hook behind it. Before he could say a word, she'd removed her robe and tossed it aside. "Scrunch your legs up. I'll sit in front of you." She climbed in, her back to his chest, and settled between his legs. "Oh, this feels good."
Luke couldn't resist. He slid his hands under her arms and curved his hands around her breasts. "Yeah, it sure does." Although he felt himself getting hard--something that happened whenever Katie was anywhere close--he was content to simply sit here and hold her. Warm, safe, comfortable. They'd had precious little of any of those since they'd met.
The water cooled while they sat, both dozing. When she shivered, Luke realized just how cold it had become. "Let's go, before we grow icicles," he told her. Snagging a towel with one hand, he stood and held it open. "Wrap up in this. I'll get another one."
They toweled each other dry, a slow process because Katie insisted on kissing him wherever she could reach. "Watch it! I nearly hit you," he told her once when she tried to kiss his elbow.
"I'd just have to hit you back," she said, dodging back. She twisted her towel and snapped it at him, narrowly missing his belly.
"You little dickens," he said. Tossing his own towel aside, he lunged for her. Before she could dodge, he grabbed her. "Now you're in for it." She went limp and he nearly dropped her before he could get a better hold and sling her over his shoulder. He opened the door and looked both ways. The hal
l was empty and no light shone from downstairs. He sure hoped Mrs. Lachlan wouldn't decide to come up to see what all the ruckus was.
"You realize I'll have to kill you for this," Katie said when they were back in their room.
"Yeah, but you can do it later, can't you?" He tossed her on the bed and landed atop her. Caging her legs between his and framing her face with his hands, Luke said, "Funny thing. I ain't sleepy now." He kissed her, catching her plump underlip gently between his teeth.
She ran her hands down his back, digging her short fingernails into his buttocks. "Me neither. Oh, Luke, I do love you!" With a quick wiggle, she had her legs wrapped around him. "Now, Luke. I don't want to wait."
"Oh, yeah, Katie girl. Now!" He slid inside her hot, welcoming depths and lost himself in her.
Chapter Three
"Of course Pa won't mind," Katie told Luke as they reached the bottom of the stairs. She turned toward the kitchen. "He'd agree with me that Idjit needs a few days rest."
"I just don't like to impose," he grumped.
"Impose? You can't impose on family. Can he, Ma?"
"Well, that all depends on what you're trying to talk him into, Katie." Ma went to the stove and pulled a kettle from the warming oven. "Don't let her talk you into anything you don't want to do, Luke. Katie always thinks she knows best."
"Yes'm, I've learned that." He sat where Ma gestured.
"I hope you can eat porridge this morning. I've got the oven full of bread." She poured coffee for all three. "Now, Katie, what is it you're trying to talk Luke into?"
"Well, he wants to go out and look for land, and I told him he should take Pa's buckskin, since our stock needs a rest, but he's too darn stubborn. Doggone it, Luke, you..."
"Well, it's up to you, of course, Luke, but we've got a dozen horses eating their fool heads off. Any one of them would be better for a bit of exercise. If you don't like Buck, then have Abel take you down to the river pasture and you can take your pick."
Katie saw Luke's lips tighten for an instant before he said, "Thank you, ma'am. I may do that." He hated losing an argument, so she decided to keep her mouth shut.
An hour later she was waving him off. "You be back here tomorrow night, you hear? Whether you find anything likely or not. The next day's Christmas, and you've got to be here then."
"Christmas ain't until Friday," he said, still sounding grumpy.
"'Tis too. We start celebrating on Christmas Eve." She paused and looked back at the house, so different from the home she remembered. What else had changed while she was Back East? "At least we used to. Just be back tomorrow, won't you, Luke? If you're not, I'll worry."
His lips were cold when he kissed her, but Katie didn't care. She hugged him tightly for a minute. "It's going to be strange, not having you underfoot all the time. I'll miss you."
"You won't even know I'm gone, not with your family all around." He kissed her again. "I'll see you tomorrow." Mounting the big rangy bay, he waved at Ma, who stood in the back doorway. "You be good, Katie Savage," he told her before he kneed the horse into a trot.
"You be careful," she called. Lowering her voice she went on, "Big, stubborn ox. That land'll be there after Christmas. You just wanted to get away from me for a while." With a vicious kick, she sent a stone careening off the walk and onto the snow-covered lawn. "I'd've gone with you in a minute, if you'd asked me to."
A lump sat in her throat, big enough that she could hardly swallow. He acted like he loved her, but did he really? He'd been awful eager to get away. Would he come back?
"Katie, I could use your help in here," her mother called.
She stomped up the back steps and across the porch. "I thought you said you had a cook," she said, as she hung her shawl on a hook beside the door.
"She'll be here soon, but I don't want to leave the breakfast dishes for her. Now, if you'll wash up, I'll go make sure the rooms are ready for everyone." She bustled out the door.
Katie had a feeling Ma had seen the tear tracks on her cheeks and hadn't wanted to embarrass her. Knowing her ma, those rooms had been ready for a week.
* * * *
As he rode along, Luke had to admit to a certain curiosity about Boise City, a town that was, according to Katie, no more than five years old, even though a few folks had been here longer than that. There sure was a lot of building going on. Katie's ma had said that they were putting up a territorial prison a mile or so east of the Lachlan place. If he was looking for work, he reckoned he could find some, although he wasn't all that handy with a hammer.
Instead of following the road along the river, Luke chose to ride along Grove Street, right through the middle of town. There were a fair number of shops, more than he'd have expected for such a small place. Somewhere around twelve hundred people lived here, Mrs. Lachlan had said.
When he came back through, he'd have to stop and see if he could pick up a little something for Katie. It was their first Christmas after all. It sure galled him to have to use borrowed money, though.
This country sure didn't look like the paradise Katie had described. Not a tree in sight, except along the river. Those at the fort and in town had been planted, he was pretty sure. Where was the forest the early trappers had talked about? Or had Katie been fooling him when she said the town name came from some French word that mean woods, or some such?
Was he making a mistake, agreeing to settle here, so close to her folks? A woman needed other womenfolk around, he knew that. But they didn't have to be kin. Luke admitted that proving a homestead would be a lot easier if the Lachlan menfolk were around to lend a hand when he needed it, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to accept their assistance without resenting it. He'd never been one to be beholden to folks. It didn't set right with him to owe and not be able to pay back.
What did he have to offer the Lachlans, anyhow? A strong back. Yeah, he had that. But he'd no fancy education, like Katie's, and few skills, other than fighting a war and driving cattle. He didn't reckon either of them would be in much demand hereabouts.
Well, he knew horses and mules, but so did Abel, so he wasn't needed as a hostler.
He'd promised Katie's pa he'd care for her, provide for her.
How?
* * * *
"It's Silas! And Soomey! They're here, Ma!" Katie ran down the stairs. "Ma! Where are you?" She flung open the front door and waved frantically as the carriage drew to a halt at the bottom of the front steps. Her mother came outside just as a man stepped down and turned back to help a tiny woman clad in red velvet and dark furs alight.
"Merry Christmas," Silas called. "It's good to be home." He kept his arm around his wife as they ascended the front steps. "Well, Katie," he said, when she flung herself at him, "I thought you went Back East to get civilized."
"Do not scold, Boss," Soomey told him from where she was being hugged by Ma. "Hattie, we are happy to be here. Tao Ni is well?"
"You're not going to know the boy," Ma said. "He's shot up like a weed in a corn patch these last few months, and his voice is changing." She turned to Silas, who set Katie aside to hug her. "I'm glad to see you, Silas. You stay away too long."
"Spoken just like a sister," he teased. "Brrr. It's cold here. You ladies go on in, and I'll take care of the baggage. Where have you put us?"
"Second floor, first door to the right when you get to the top of the stairs." She shepherded Katie and Soomey through the front door. "Now, Soomey, suppose you tell me what you meant by sending that set of fancy silverware to me from England. What on earth am I going to do with it? It must be worth a fortune."
"Bah," Soomey said, as she shed her elegant coat and handed it to Katie, who stood waiting with a padded hanger. "They are only forks and spoons. You will use it. In this great house, you will entertain very much and you should show people how grand you are."
"I'm afraid I'll never be grand," Ma said, chuckling. "I'll leave that to you and Ellen. And Katie."
"Oh, no, not me, Ma. I'm going to be a stockman's wife. I d
oubt we'll have much time for fancy dinner parties for a long time."
Once they were all in the parlor, waiting for the tea to steep, Katie said, "Soomey, I've got a surprise for you."
"A surprise?" Silas interrupted from the doorway. "Aren't you supposed to save the surprises for Christmas morning?"
Before Katie could answer, they heard the back door open. A chorus of voices announced the arrival of the Christmas tree.
The next few hours were filled with confusion while the tree got brought in and set up. Katie, Soomey and Ma sat back and let the kids do most of the work, hanging the popcorn strings they'd made, tying bright red bows on branch tips, and having the annual argument about candles.
"No, Regina, we are not going to light the tree. Not this year. Not ever," Ma said, as she had every Christmas since Katie could remember. "It's just too dangerous."
Reggie, twelve, and looking far more mature, in Katie's opinion, than she acted, pouted. "It's perfectly safe," she muttered. "Everybody does it."
"Who's everybody?" Merlin said, from the top of the ladder. This was his first year to place the star, fashioned from wire and silver foil, on the topmost branch. Katie remembered when she'd turned fifteen, and it had been her privilege, as it had been Buff's and Ellen's' before her.
"All the girls at school, that's who," Reggie replied, sticking her tongue out at her brother. "We're the only ones who have such a boring tree."
"I think it's a beautiful tree," Iris said. She tied a crooked bow on a lower branch and came to stand in front of Katie. "Ma said you was married to a savage. Is he all hairy and naked, like a bear?"
Everyone laughed, and Katie pulled her youngest sister close. "Oh, honey, his name is Savage. He's not one. And no, he's not all hairy and naked." A picture formed in her mind, of Luke looming over her, naked, his eyes hot with sexual hunger. She had to swallow before continuing. "He dresses like a cowman, and he has hair as red as those bows on the tree."
"Nobody has hair that color," nine-year-old-Rhys said, from where he was carefully placing small, carved figures on a low stand beside the tree. He held up a white-painted wooden blob. "I carved this myself," he told Katie. "Pa says it's the best unsheared sheep he ever saw."
Lord of Misrule Page 2
