The Colorado Bride

by Mary Burton

  Rebecca glared at Bess. “I’ve managed.”

  “Nearly broke your neck last month. You scared ten years off my life.”

  Cole’s jaw tightened. “When the rain stops, I’ll get up on the roof and have a look.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Rebecca was quick to say. The last thing she wanted was to be in Cole McGuire’s debt.

  Cole hung his coat next to Rebecca’s shawl. “Seeing as I’ll be staying awhile, I’ll need something to pass the time.”

  Bess grinned. “We ain’t never had a man around here and we could use the help.”

  “I don’t want a man around,” Rebecca snapped.

  “You’ve got one now,” Cole said, his words bursting with unspoken meaning.

  “Bess, I’ll bring my clothes down presently,” he said as he strode out of the room, his boots squishing with each step.

  “H-he’s in-incorrigible,” she stammered.

  Bess gestured toward Rebecca’s soaked dress. “Get over here by the stove and take that dress off. I’ll get you a blanket.”

  Rebecca’s fingers trembled as she undid the row of tiny buttons that trailed down between her breasts. More chilled than she realized, she breathed a relieved sigh when she peeled the garment from her shoulders and let it slide over her hips. Her chemise, transparent now, clung to her body like skin. Modesty aside, she stood next to the cookstove and opened the cast-iron door. Her body mopped up the welcome heat as she waited for Bess.

  Bess returned in two shakes, a calico patchwork quilt in hand. “Mac’s stirring from his morning nap.”

  “I’ll get to him.” She wrapped the soft cotton around her shoulders. She shivered.

  “He can wait a minute or two more. I want to know what happened outside. Cole McGuire looked like he could spit nails.”

  “Everything’s fine. I’ve just got to be strong and wait him out.”

  “You wait him out? Honey, you’re gonna lose that battle. That man had the devil in his eyes. He ain’t leaving this place any time soon.”

  “I will wait him out.” Rebecca clutched the folds of the blanket closer together. “Now I have to get upstairs.”

  Without waiting for Bess’s response, she fled up the darkened back staircase. Her bones ached from fatigue and cold. Mac’s giggles greeted her when she reached the top landing. She padded across the pine floor to his room and peeked around the door.

  Mac sat in the middle of his cot playing with a toy ball. So innocent. She wanted to pull him close and savor the feel of his small body against her. If keeping him safe meant damning her own soul, then she’d gladly pay the price.

  Rebecca tiptoed away from the door. She guessed she had ten minutes before Mac grew bored with his toys and came looking for her. Just enough time to change her clothes.

  She’d go into town today and find Mrs. Applegate. Once she’d assured herself that the women had spread the word about Cole, then she could breathe a sigh of relief. If no one talked, Mac would stay safely with her.

  When she turned, Cole was staring at her. He’d moved quiet as a cat in his stocking feet. Wearing dry pants and a worn black cotton shirt, he’d pushed his wet hair from his face with his fingers.

  His gaze flickered to her bare shoulder. “You look like you’re in a big rush.”

  “Mac will be up and about soon.”

  He glanced toward the nursery door where the sound of Mac’s giggles trickled out. “Sure.”

  She moved to step around him. “If you’ll excuse me…”

  Cole manacled his long fingers around her wrist. His hold was gentle but unbreakable. “I’m not a monster, Rebecca.”

  She stiffened. “I never said you were.”

  “You didn’t have to. You’re just like everyone else in this town. You hear the name Cole McGuire and your next thought is trouble.”

  “No, that’s not true.” Or at least, it hadn’t been until Mac.

  A shadow crossed his eyes. “I remember when you first came to White Stone. It was a crisp spring afternoon. Your pa had finished building his house and he’d finally sent for you.”

  Rebecca remembered that day. She’d been ten years old and hadn’t seen her pa in over six months. She’d been so excited to see him that she’d taken extra care that morning when she’d dressed, making sure the bow of her pinafore was extra crisp. “What does this have to do with anything?”

  “I was sitting on the steps outside the saloon,” Cole said quietly. “Your pa was right anxious to see you and he’d nearly worn a rut in the street for all his pacing. I was green with jealously because my own pa had run off before I was born.”

  She didn’t speak, too afraid the torrent of emotions inside her would spill free.

  “I was angry that you had your pa and I didn’t. So, I picked up a rock and tossed it on the rump of a horse standing near you. The bay bucked and kicked up clumps of dirt that splattered your dress. You started to cry and I started to laugh. Do you remember what you said?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. She thought back to the ruined dress and the tarnished homecoming. “I said you were hateful.”

  “The instant I saw the misery in your eyes, I knew what I had done was cruel.”

  She conjured vague images of a gangly boy who never smiled. “I stopped blaming you when I saw where you lived and heard what your mother did. No child should live like that.”

  He laid his hands on her shoulders. Energy surged through his palms, making her knees turn to mush. “I think you’re still judging me for those very reasons. You and everyone else in town see only the boy who got into too many fights and stirred up trouble every chance he got.” He captured a stray wet curl that had escaped her chignon. “I’m a different person now.”

  The truth begged to be told. Was she being unfair to him?

  “I’ve got plans to move to California. I want to stake a claim and put what your pa taught me about mining to good use.”

  California! It was over a thousand miles of hard traveling away. No. No. No!

  Maybe he wasn’t trouble. Maybe he could be a father to Mac. But Rebecca couldn’t let him take Mac that far away. She pulled away from him. “I wish you the best, Cole, truly.”

  His jaw tightened. “I’m asking this one last time, Rebecca. Tell me what you know.”

  Mac cried out to her. “Mama!”

  She stared at the nursery door. “I don’t know anything.” Have mercy on my soul.

  He grabbed her by the arm, his fingers biting into her skin. He jerked her close to him. “If I find out you’ve been lying to me, I promise you I will make you pay, Rebecca.”

  She broke free and fled into the nursery afraid to think or move. Her heart slammed against her chest.

  Rebecca had trapped herself with her own lies.

  Chapter Six

  Cole bit back an oath, scooped up his hat and stormed down the stairs and out the front door. The rain had cleared. The cloudy haze had split to reveal a blue sky. A dewy film clung to the leaves and the streets had turned to a muddy quagmire.

  Cole had given Rebecca ample opportunity to tell him what she knew about his boy. Hell, he wasn’t asking for much.

  Damn Rebecca! He’d gone out of his way to be thoughtful concerning her feelings, but she kept holding back.

  Double damn him for caring that she didn’t trust him. He smacked his fist against the porch railing.

  If he had a lick of sense he’d shake every last grain of truth out of her. But, blast his hide, he did care.

  Cole wanted Rebecca to trust him. He wanted her to recognize him for the man he’d become—a man worthy of her confidence.

  But when he looked into her light-blue eyes, he saw only fear and distrust. She was afraid of him and she wasn’t going to tell him anything.

  Well, by God, there was more than one way to skin a cat. From his pocket he pulled out a battered watch and snapped it open. Ten-fifteen. Dusty wouldn’t be meeting him at the Rosebud for nearly two hours, which gave him ample time to st
art nosing around. If Rebecca wouldn’t talk to him, someone else would.

  Cole dug his heel into a warped floorboard on the porch. “I tried to be a nice guy, Rebecca.”

  He put on his hat and strode down the steps toward town. Thick mud caked his boots, but his gait was sure and purposeful. He’d talk to every person in town if that’s what it took. And if no one talked, they’d learn that Cole McGuire could stir up a lot more trouble now than he ever did before.

  He’d just reached the inn’s picket fence when he saw Sheriff Wade striding toward him with Dusty in tow. He held the boy by his collar, forcing him to take three steps for each one of his.

  Dusty wore a panicked expression even as he kicked and squirmed each step of the way. “Let me go, I ain’t done nothing wrong, Sheriff.”

  “Hush up, boy. We’ll just see what you been up to and ain’t.” Sheriff Wade’s dented tin star caught the sunlight and his round belly jostled as he dragged the boy down the rutted path.

  Cole thought back to his own youth. Whenever there’d been a speck of trouble, he had been the one they’d come looking for, whether it was stolen apples or missing money. Wade hadn’t been the one looking for him in those days, but that didn’t stop him from resenting the man.

  Cole stopped at the fence, his hand resting on twin pickets. “What seems to be the problem, Sheriff?”

  The old man halted and spat. He wore a clean shirt, had trimmed his beard and the strong smell of bay rum wafted around him.

  “You’re just the one I’m looking for.”

  “That so?”

  Dusty squirmed against Wade’s meaty hold. “Tell him I ain’t been looking for trouble,” he shouted.

  “Hush boy,” Wade warned. “Or I’ll jerk a knot in you.”

  Cole’s fingers bit into the pickets. “No need to be rough with the boy.”

  “Rough’s about all he understands.”

  “I’m asking you real polite. Let go of him.”

  Challenge flashed in the sheriff’s old eyes as he tightened his hold on Dusty. “He’s been hanging around the livery. Likely he’s looking for trouble.”

  Dusty wrenched free of the sheriff’s grip. The old man lunged toward him, but the boy skirted out of his reach, hopped the fence and took his place behind Cole. “The livery’s where I sleep. I weren’t doing nothing wrong.”

  Wade opened the picket fence. “It’s high time I took you back to your pa’s place.”

  “I ain’t never going back to him again. And you can’t make me.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Wade strode toward Dusty.

  Cole blocked his path. “The boy’s my responsibility now. I’ll see that he doesn’t get into trouble.”

  “Why would you want to take on the likes of him?”

  “All you need to know is that I am.”

  The sheriff shook his finger in Cole’s face. “Just see that he don’t get into trouble or I’m coming after you.” As if he owned the place, he brushed past Cole, strode across the front yard and up the steps, and knocked on the door.

  Dusty moved to run but Cole’s arms shot out and he grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Dusty grunted. “Let me go.”

  “No.”

  Cole ignored the string of curse words the boy spat out as he watched Wade. “What do you suppose that old codger is up to?” He spoke more to himself than Dusty.

  “I reckon the sheriff’s come courting Miss Rebecca. Everybody knows he’s been sweet on her.”

  Annoyed, Cole glared at Wade’s back. “He’s too old for her.” The vinegar in his voice surprised him.

  “He don’t think so.”

  Cole glanced down at the boy’s dirt-smudged face. Blue eyes stared up at him with more wisdom than was right for a boy his age. “How would you know?”

  “Heard him bragging to the men at the Rosebud the other day that he’s got his sights on marrying her.”

  “She’s young enough to be his daughter.”

  “She’s going to the picnic with him.”

  Cole snorted. The idea of Wade lurking around the inn set his teeth on edge.

  The front door of the inn opened then and Rebecca appeared. Bright as a new penny, she’d changed into a dark blue dress and her damp blond curls framed her oval face, she gifted the sheriff with a bright smile. Cole’s mood soured.

  Dusty poked Cole in the ribs. “You’re jealous.”

  He ripped his gaze off Rebecca to glare at the boy. “Mind your own business.”

  “Ha! You is sweet on her.”

  “And you smell bad.”

  Dusty raised his arm and sniffed his armpit. “I don’t.”

  “When’s the last time you took a bath?”

  Dusty’s face scrunched with indignation. “Ain’t been that long.”

  Cole folded his arms over his chest. “How long?”

  “Well, it was chilly outside. April, I reckon.”

  “That was two months ago.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Cole took the boy by the arm. “So, it means you’re getting a bath today.”

  Dusty dug his heels in. “I ain’t.”

  Cole pulled him easily along toward the Inn. “You sure are. You smell worse than the sheriff’s bay rum.”

  “Now, that ain’t fair.”

  “Life isn’t fair, boy.”

  Dusty tried to tug his arm free from Cole’s grip, but had no success. “What gives you the right to go and toss me in a tub? We was getting along fine and I ain’t wronged you.”

  “Didn’t you hear what I said to the sheriff? I’m responsible for you now.”

  A cloud passed in front of the boy’s eyes. “Those was just words. I know you were saying ’em to get the sheriff off my back.”

  Cole stopped and placed his hands on Dusty’s shoulders. “Dusty, they weren’t just words to me. You’re with me now, hell or high water.”

  His gaze narrowed. “I’m used to being on my own.”

  “Me, too, but things change.”

  “Yeah, well, what about Pa?”

  “I’ll have a talk with him. I’m sure I can make him see reason.”

  The yearning in Dusty’s dirt-smudged face was plain. “I reckon I could tag along with you for a while, but I ain’t taking a bath.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  The sound of Rebecca’s laugh, so clear and bright, floated down to them. He glared up at the porch. She stood close to Wade, too damn close, and was listening intently to something he was saying. The two of them looked as if they were settling in for a nice long visit.

  Cole ground his teeth. Why in the devil she would be interested in the likes of a man twice her age was beyond him.

  “Boy, it’s time you got that bath. And I believe, Miss Rebecca is just the one to help me get you squeaky clean.”

  * * *

  The smell of Wade’s bay rum made Rebecca’s eyes itch. Her nose wrinkled and she sneezed twice in the first minute of their conversation.

  She knew he’d come to talk to her about the picnic. He’d been mooning over her for weeks and so far she’d kept him at arm’s distance. He’d been a good friend to her but she’d never had romantic feelings for Sheriff Wade.

  Rebecca’s nose itched with the thick scent of aftershave. “Turning out to be a lovely day, Sheriff.”

  He pulled off his hat and clutched it in front of his chest. He’d slicked back his hair and combed his mustache and beard. Deep lines etched the corners of his eyes when he smiled. “Time you started calling me Ernie.”

  She could feel heat rise in her cheeks. Curtis had been the last man to come courting her and that had been nearly four years ago. She felt wretchedly out of practice.

  Rebecca caught sight of Cole striding back up the walkway. Her nerves tightened a notch and she stepped closer to Wade.

  Then, she noticed the boy next to him. He was the one who had been stealing pies from her for months now.

  Back in April, she’d been
hanging laundry on the other side of the house when he’d snatched a cooling pie. Believing himself hidden, he’d sat down under a shade tree and eaten every bite of the cherry pie. He’d licked the plate clean before carefully replacing the tin back where he’d found it.

  Her heart had been overwhelmed with sadness. In him she saw Mac. She wondered who would have cared for her boy if she’d not taken him into her home and heart.

  From that day on, she’d made a point to make an extra pie or loaf of bread and set it on the sill to cool. Each time she went into town, she looked for the boy, but so far she’d not been able to get close to him. He was forever scurrying out of her reach like a frightened rabbit.

  And now he stood next to Cole. The boy’s body was painfully thin; his clothes little more than rags and he wore no shoes. But his eyes were sharp and bright.

  Sheriff Wade cleared his throat. “Rebecca, I don’t believe you’ve heard a word I’ve said.”

  Startled from her thoughts, she glanced up at him. “Of course, I did.”

  “Then four o’clock suits?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  He grinned and took her hand in his. “Good. Then it’s a date.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “Look forward to what?” Cole asked, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

  Rebecca bristled. “The sheriff and I are attending the picnic together.”

  His gaze drifted to Ernie then back to her. “When?”

  “Next week,” she said.

  “I’m sure you’ll make a fine couple.”

  Dusty kicked the dirt. “He’s too old for her.”

  Cole nudged the boy, a warning to keep quiet.

  The sheriff cleared his throat. “Well, I best get going.” Wade faced off with Cole. “McGuire, keep that boy out of trouble.”

  Cole clamped his hand on Dusty’s shoulder. “There’ll be no trouble.”

  Rebecca waited until Sheriff Wade was well past the picket fence before she glanced down at the boy. He stared up with blue eyes, filled with a good bit of false bravado. “What’s he talking about?” She kept her tone light for Dusty’s sake.