Sophie's Daughters Trilogy

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Sophie's Daughters Trilogy Page 59

by Mary Connealy


  Logan let her stand on her own two feet again. “We’re getting married.” It wasn’t a question. It was an order.

  Sally found she liked the idea of a man ordering her to marry him. As long as it was Logan. “But I need to stay here with Mandy for a while. I don’t know how long.”

  “Then we’ll stay. I’d like to ride to town and get married, then come back past my cabin and see if any of my paintings survived. Remember that one of you that outlaw threw over the cliff? We might be able to find it.”

  “But then we can come back here?” Sally hoped some bald eagle didn’t distract Logan on the ride. Then she remembered he had no pencil or sketchbook and thought they’d probably be safe.

  “Yes, for as long as you want. All summer … all winter, too.” Logan looked up the mountain and grimaced at the mansion. “If they ever get that done, they ought to have plenty of room for us.”

  “Or maybe they could live up there and we could stay in this cabin.” Sally looked at the really nice-sized cabin Mandy now lived in and wondered why anyone needed more.

  “Unless Wise Sister and Buff want it.”

  Sally nodded. “We’ll figure out something, because, yes, Logan. Yes, I will marry you.” Her arms went around his neck again just as the cabin door slammed open and Sidney came flying out of the house to land belly down on the ground.

  Sally saw Luther standing in the doorway and Mandy peeking out from behind Luther, holding the baby.

  “You’ll come back in when you can watch your mouth!” Luther raged.

  Then he turned to Sally and Logan and said, “Get in here!”

  Sally remembered thinking Wise Sister could give orders. She couldn’t hold a candle to Luther in a rage. Maybe they’d just go on in. She reached down and took Logan’s hand and they exchanged a look.

  “Let’s go tell ’em we’re getting married,” Logan said, not acting all that afraid of saying something as stupid as Sidney must have and incurring Luther’s wrath.

  Clinging to Logan’s hand, Sally feared she’d have to drag him, but he came along willingly, walking past Sidney groveling in the dirt. They headed right into the teeth of Luther’s rage.

  Sally knew she’d finally found a man strong enough to let her be a cowboy, kind enough to let her have a few bits of lace and ribbon, and wise enough to keep his mouth shut about both. “Logan?”

  “What, honey?”

  “Luther’s had a bad day with losing Buff and dealing with Sidney. Maybe you’d better let me do the talking.”

  “There’s one more thing you’ll find out as you get to know me better, Sally.”

  “What’s that?” She smiled at Luther, who bared his teeth and glared at the hand she had entwined with Logan’s.

  “I’m not a foolish man.” Logan shifted so Sally was standing directly between him and Luther. “I’ve taken so much abuse for my painting over the years that it’s really hard to wound my manly pride.”

  “Which means?” Sally sort of felt like she was in a kill zone between the two men. Though in all fairness, no one would probably get killed. Exactly.

  “I’d be glad to let you do the talking.”

  “Good, I’ll start by inviting everyone to the wedding.” Sally looked over her shoulder at Sidney, crawling to his hands and knees and spitting out dirt. “Except him.”

  Thirty – one

  Buff and Wise Sister brought a preacher back.

  Sally saw the man wearing the black suit and thought Buff had hired a new bodyguard for Sidney.

  He might yet need one to protect him from Luther, and even more so from Mandy. Nils Platte was still hanging around, but whatever arrangement he’d had with Sidney for protection apparently didn’t stretch to include protection from a wife.

  When Buff dismounted, he had the most peaceful smile on his face Sally had ever seen on the taciturn old man. “We had our wedding.” Buff nodded toward Logan, who was holding Wise Sister’s horse. “Now it’s time for yours.”

  A smile bloomed on Sally’s face. “Luther isn’t too wild about the idea of me marrying a painter. Looks like you’re okay with it.”

  Buff jerked one shoulder. “Wise Sister likes him. Says he’s a good man. I trust her.”

  Platte came out of the barn and took both horses. He didn’t seem to be staying all that close to Sidney these days.

  “How’d you manage to not get shot when Sidney ran Cord Cooter off?” Sally had been dying to know.

  “Mr. Gray told me what he was planning. I convinced him to make a hard day’s ride of it to Helena. He wouldn’t do it for his wife, but he decided his own life was at risk so he was willing to get the firing done fast then run for home and set up a lookout over that gap. I’ve suggested guarding that gap before, but this time Mr. Gray seemed to believe he was in danger. I expected Cord to follow after us, thinking to get some lead into me and take Mr. Gray, maybe force the information about his gold out of him.”

  Wincing to think of how cruelly Cooter would accomplish that, Sally moved closer to Logan. They’d been under Cooter’s gun. Either of them could have died so easily. Logan rested his arm across Sally’s shoulders, and she couldn’t believe the comfort of that single touch. She really did know him. It was all honest. Yes, they were different, but she knew that and she loved him anyway.

  Wise Sister asked Platte, “Why didn’t you get home earlier?”

  Platte’s jaw clenched. “Mr. Gray wasn’t done with his town business. He insisted we leave the trail and let Cooter go past, then ride back into town.”

  “And leave his pregnant wife here unprotected, with Cord on the way?” Logan snarled.

  Sally was happy to see Logan firmly on the side of those who despised Sidney. If he wanted to fit in the family, he really needed to do that.

  “Mr. Gray didn’t see it that way. He figured Cooter wanted him, not his wife. He didn’t think she’d be in any danger.”

  “That man is mighty unconcerned about his wife and children.” Logan pulled Sally closer.

  “Seems right fond of his son.” Platte spit on the ground with contempt. “Maybe he’ll take better care of all of them now, with a boy in the mix.”

  Sally realized that if Cooter hadn’t come after her, he’d have been back right during Mandy’s birthing. Even her tough big sister would have had a time of it defending herself. “Why’d he go after us?”

  “I talked with Luther some about the trail you took. You were close enough he probably heard the gunfire. Might’ve even thought it was Mr. Gray, gone off the trail.”

  “We were close to Mandy all this time, and I didn’t even know it.” Sally shook her head.

  “There were a few things barring the way, Sally.” Logan’s grip loosened enough that she could breathe, but she didn’t mind his holding on tight. “A cliff or two stood in the way. Miles of treacherous trail, a broken leg.”

  Nodding, Sally said, “It all slowed me down some.”

  “So why do you reckon Cord never came back? After he met up with his brother, I figured they were headed this way.”

  “Looked that way to me, too. Never cared for the way he looked at Mrs. Gray. I didn’t agree with the boss that his wife wasn’t in danger. But Cord’s not in here, and I’ve posted a watch up there so he can’t get in.” Platte looked back in the direction of the gap then scratched at his bristly jaw. “Sometimes Cord would get to talking and he was crazy on the subject of his family. He asked everyone we ever saw if they’d seen a man with a streak of white in his hair. Said it was a family trait and he wanted to find two brothers he hadn’t ever met. Or leastways not since he was too young to remember. He had a few folks say they’d seen such a mark, sometimes on one man, some would say on two. There were definite sightings around these parts, but no one could give him any solid information about just where the man lived.”

  “Fergus and the man Wise Sister shot had that white streak in their hair. Those must be his brothers.”

  “Cord talked about how his family always backed e
ach other. Cooters stick together. He must’ve said it a hundred times. Figured it for big talk since I never saw a sign of any family. They sure weren’t sticking by Cord.”

  “The dead man we saw where the outlaws shot Sally and killed the colonel and the others had that streak.” Buff frowned. “He must be family, too.”

  “Then I say we need to be ready for trouble.” Platte looked so serious it sent a chill down Sally’s back. “Cord will be bent on hunting down anyone who harmed his family. Like I said, Cooters stick together. That’s how he’ll see it. He’ll want revenge.”

  Sally watched Platte, Buff, and Wise Sister exchange a grim look. She felt pretty grim herself.

  “So, is there gonna be a wedding or not?” Buff shook his head as if to throw off the tension.

  Logan looked at Sally then turned to Wise Sister. “Where will you go? Will I ever see you again?”

  Wise Sister moved to Buff’s side so the two of them faced Sally and Logan. “Buff and I plan to build a cabin where mine was before. We’ll build another one for you and Sally there, too, if you wish.”

  A smile bloomed on Logan’s face.

  Sally couldn’t enjoy the moment, though she loved the thought of having Buff close by. “What about Mandy? She needs us here. She needs someone.”

  “I’m staying.” Luther came up beside them, with Angela sitting atop his shoulders. The little girl’s hands were holding onto the long gray hair surrounding Luther’s bald crown.

  “And we’ll be a day’s ride away.” Logan lifted her hand up and kissed it. “We can come several times during the summer to see your family. And as soon as things are settled down, I’d like to go spend about half the winter in Texas and get to know your family.”

  The thought of spending months with her family thrilled her.

  “And then spend the second half of it in New York so you can get to know mine.”

  Sally’s eyes went wide. The thrill was gone. “New York City?”

  Logan lifted one shoulder sheepishly. “Only if you want to. We’ll decide all of that together. After we’re married.”

  “I’m kinda scared of New York City.” Which made her a little mad because Sally didn’t like being afraid of anything. “Maybe we’d better decide that before the wedding.”

  Shaking his head, Logan smiled. “Nope. We’ll work out everything else, but there’s nothing left to decide about a wedding. We’re getting married. Today. Let’s get your sister and get this wedding started.”

  Deciding that suited her right down to the ground, Sally said, “Don’t move,” ran to the house, and called Mandy’s name.

  Her big sister came out carrying a baby, with a toddler hanging from her skirts.

  Sally plucked Catherine up so they could all move faster toward saying the vows.

  They had their wedding guests gathered in two minutes—little more than the time it took the preacher to walk the kinks out after his long horse ride.

  Sidney even waddled over and watched, though he’d been inspecting the house and no one had invited him. He just happened to be coming down to the house to gloat over his son at that moment. Both of his eyes were black now.

  Sally stood Catherine on her own two feet, thinking it was a more proper way to conduct a wedding, but the little tyke hung from her doeskin skirt and babbled.

  “Dearly beloved …”

  Turning to Logan, Sally decided those words described him perfectly.

  “We are gathered here …”

  An absolute truth. They’d simply gathered everyone here and started in.

  The ceremony, such as it was, lasted about five minutes, but Sally took those vows, to marry a man who painted pictures instead of herding cattle. Logan said his promises right back, and he’d seen her wearing chaps with his own two eyes.

  When the parson finished, Logan leaned close and took both her hands in his. “There is truth between us, Sally. I know who you are, the tough wrangler, the pretty woman, the tears on occasion, the ribbon you always wear. I love you and know you and promise to respect you without trying to change you.”

  Sally heard some faint grunt from Sidney that sounded like he didn’t agree with such a statement. A quick glance at Mandy told Sally her sister had heard that noise, too. The man was purely lucky he didn’t have any eyes left to blacken.

  But this was no time for her sister’s problems or her brother-in-law’s whipping. This was a sacred moment.

  “We do know each other, Logan.” She gripped his hands tighter. “We don’t think alike about a lot of things, but about the big things, I think we’re in wonderful agreement.”

  She looked deep in his eyes, those eyes that had a way of studying her, reading her every expression until he was almost reading her mind. Things that she’d come to depend on. “You can paint all you want and I’ll still love you. In fact, I’ll love you because you paint all you want.”

  “And you can wear anything you want and I’ll still always love my little wrangler in petticoats.” Logan leaned down and kissed her.

  With that kiss, Sally sealed her vows, knowing as they began their future as two people, very different and very happy, they would always be true to themselves and to each other.

  Discussion Questions

  It is historically accurate, even in the West, to always put women in dresses and let them ride side-saddles. Few western novels do this though, preferring riding skirts and riding astride. Why do you think such an impractical way to ride and dress was asked of women?

  Sally is tough and Logan is a wimp—or that’s what Sally thinks. But Logan is strong in things she doesn’t respect or understand. Talk about the differences between their value systems … seeing the land as providing a living versus seeing it for its beauty.

  Both Sally and Logan learned to appreciate each others viewpoint. How have you changed due to being near someone you respect and love who thinks very differently from you?

  Mandy’s marriage has changed since it began, mostly for the worse. How has the West changed Sidney? Or explain how it is just revealing his true character.

  Has Sophie done wrong to let her daughter Sally be such a tomboy? Explain how you feel Sophie’s choices were right or wrong.

  When an elk walks near the house, Sally reaches for her rifle, and Logan reaches for his sketch pad. Talk about how that creates conflict between them.

  Why do you think Sidney wants to build his house at the top of a mountain?

  How normal is it for a woman to conform herself to keep peace in her home, like Mandy does?

  The West had a way of swallowing people up. They’d head west and never be seen again. Why do you think people went to such a dangerous place? What was drawing them there?

  Did you like Tom Linscott? He’s got a cameo in all three books in the Montana Marriage series, but now he’s got his own story. Do you remember him? Did you want to know more about him?

  Do you like the books being woven together with Lassoed in Texas and Montana Marriages? Explain what you like and don’t like about series in general.

  Today, with Internet and cell phones and air travel we can stay more connected, but distance can still make a difference. Have you ever had someone in your family move away and you’ve lost touch with them, or nearly? Explain how that affected your relationship.

  Sharpshooter in Petticoats

  One

  Montana Territory, August 1884

  Tom Linscott slid backward five feet before he caught a slender rock ledge and clawed at it to stop himself from plunging a hundred feet more.

  The rock was nearly sheer. He felt blood flowing from his fingertips. His grip was shaky already, and now it was slippery. He clung to that ledge like a scared house cat, afraid to move, fighting to slow his slamming heart and steady his breathing. He’d been climbing a long time, and he had a long way to fall if his grip didn’t hold.

  Then he did what any thinking man did when something scared him. He got mad.

  So, he clung to the side of
that stupid mountain, gathered his strength to go the last twenty-five or so feet, and fumed. He was a rancher not a mountain goat. He should not have had to climb up here.

  No woman should be this hard to get.

  His handhold felt solid; his footholds were all of three inches wide. He needed a minute of rest before he went on to a more precarious spot. And while he hung there, dangling over a dead drop that ended in jagged granite, he looked up and saw her.

  The woman he’d come for. Lady Gray.

  She lived in a fortress, cut off from all the people she considered beneath her. The rumors about her were legion and harrowing. Ruthlessly dangerous, some said. A witch, others had called her. She’d put a curse on the land she ruled over.

  Tom hadn’t told anyone of his plans until just before he left home. But he’d listened for any whisper of her name, any passing reference to the legendary Lady Gray.

  She was the most dangerous woman in the West. As fast and deadly with her rifle as any woman alive.

  That last part Tom suspected was true. The first, well, he hoped she wasn’t dangerous to him, but he was minutes away from testing the theory.

  He’d had to admit he was coming right before he left because there were arrangements to make. That’s when one of his cowhands told Tom with dead seriousness that he’d lived in this area and it was widely repeated and believed that to approach Lady Gray meant certain death.

  But Tom knew something none of the rest of them did. He knew what had brought her to this place. He understood the roots of her reputation. He knew who she was before the legend had been born. And he knew she was no witch.

  That didn’t mean she might not blow a hole in him with that blasted Winchester if he wasn’t real careful.

  Right now she stood motionless, looking up, clearly visible in the starlit night. He watched her and stoked his temper while he hugged this stupid cliff that he should not have had to climb. The fool woman should have invited him to come right up to the front door of her fortress.

 

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