Montana Renegade (Bear Grass Springs Book 4)

by Ramona Flightner

  He met her shocked gaze. “And don’t ever tell me again that you aren’t smart. You had the ability to learn from the midwife, in secrecy, and to do a job that is challenging and potentially heartbreaking.” He thumbed away tears. “Don’t cry, my Nell. Don’t cry.”

  “No one’s truly seen me,” she whispered as she buried her face in his neck, unable to stop the flow of tears.

  “I’ve seen you from the very beginning. But that’s not what matters. What matters is that you allowed yourself to finally be seen for who and what you are.” He took a deep breath and waited for her to calm. When she had, he eased her back so he could meet her gaze. “Will you marry me?”

  She paused. “Will I still be able to work as a midwife?”

  He smiled. “Yes. I wouldn’t deny you the work that brings you joy.” He kissed her softly on the lips.

  “Will you start drinking spirits again?”

  He traced her eyebrow. “I rarely drink more than a sip of whiskey now and again. You’ll often see me holding a glass and acting as though I’m drinking, but my glass never goes empty.” His smile was chagrined. “Or I’ll switch with Ewan or Alistair, and they’ll drink it for me.”

  “But will you drink to excess again?”

  He took a deep breath. “I promise you, on all that I hold dear, on my love for you”—he paused as he watched her eyes round at those words—“I will never drink spirits again. Not even a sip. I refuse to lose your faith in me again.”

  “Oh, Warren.” She traced his mouth and then his jaw. “Yes, yes, I will marry you, Warren.”

  Cailean poked his head into the parlor and grinned. “When’s the wedding?”

  Warren held Helen to his chest, feeling her flush against his cheek. “Soon. I want you and all the MacKinnons there. And the Tompkinses. Other than that, I don’t care who shows up.”

  Cailean nodded. “’Bout time.” He backed from the room and shut the door, granting them privacy.

  “Don’t be embarrassed to be caught in my arms, Helen,” Warren whispered. “It’s natural and fine. Soon no one will remark upon it.”

  Helen snuggled closer. “I can’t wait for the night I can sleep in your arms. I wasn’t able to the last time we were together.”

  He groaned and eased her away. “I must be honorable and wait until we are wed.” His searching gaze took in her flushed cheeks, mussed hair, and lips swollen from kisses. “But I wish you were still living with me.”

  She laughed. “Will you do something for me?” She felt him tense. “Will you marry me at the ranch?”

  Warren raised an eyebrow and shook his head in confusion. “Why?”

  “I felt at home there, and, for the first time in my life, I was among people who accepted me for who and what I was. It was liberating, Warren.” She stroked his jaw. “Besides, if we wed there, it will be a small wedding.”

  “I will speak with Frederick when you return today.” He kissed away her shocked expression. “Please, love, let me return with you, rather than Alistair.”

  She giggled and hugged him. “You have no reason to be jealous of Frederick. He is my boss. He never treated me in an inappropriate manner. Besides, I think he’s interested in someone else, although I don’t know who she is.” She kissed the side of his head. “But, yes, I want you, Warren, to return to the ranch with me.”

  Warren hitched the ranch’s horses to the back of the sleigh before helping Helen into it. He sat next to her and released the brake, easing the pair of horses into motion. Irene and Harold had insisted on sending supplies to the ranch, and the rear seat was filled with foodstuffs for Frederick and his hands.

  As Warren and Helen made their way out of town, Warren focused on the changing scenery. The hint of spring was in the air, although Warren knew a late season storm could arrive at any time. The mountains in the distance glistened white with snow, while the nearby hills were dotted with dun-colored splotches where the snow had melted or been blown away. Smoke rose from the few visible ranch houses, and he turned the team down the road that would lead them toward the Tompkinses’ ranch.

  After a few miles of contented silence between them, Warren spoke. “Why did you leave your mother’s house?” He met her guarded gaze. “I’m not upset. I’m not judging you, Helen. I merely want to understand what finally pushed you to act. What made me nearly lose you.”

  “My mother had always hoped I’d marry one of the MacKinnon brothers. That was no secret to anyone in town.” She bowed her head as she blushed. “It was mortifying to be thrust into their paths and shown off like a prized heifer.”

  Warren grunted his disapproval at her description of herself but otherwise remained silent. He held the reins with both hands and was unable to clasp her hand in comfort.

  “When Ewan MacKinnon married the reporter with little fanfare and in haste, my mother was at her wit’s end. She didn’t understand why I was incapable of provoking such a reaction in a man.” Helen took a deep breath. “She informed me the day before I went to the Boudoir that my cousin Bertrand would soon arrive.”

  Warren shook his head. “I don’t know him.”

  “The last time he was in Bear Grass Springs was right before your arrival. He is vile, mean and cruel.”

  Warren frowned. “Are you certain of that, or is that how you perceived him when you were younger?”

  “It’s as though he’s my brother’s twin. Does that help you understand what my life with him would be like?”

  “Good God,” Warren muttered. “And she thought to consign you to a life with him?”

  Helen nodded. “Yes. I went to the Boudoir because I was desperate to ensure he’d never want anything to do with me. I … I’d heard rumors you were interested in Sorcha, and I couldn’t handle going to you for help and being overlooked for yet another MacKinnon.”

  “Oh, Nell,” Warren murmured. “I hope you understand my friendship with her. I know it’s unusual for an unmarried man and woman to be friends. But we truly are.”

  Helen took a measured breath. “I’m trying, every day, to overcome my jealousy of her.”

  Warren laughed. “If you’re jealous, that gives me tremendous hope for us.” He bumped her hip with his on the seat. “I will prove to you, every day, that you have nothing to be jealous of.” After a moment he said, “I presume your mother wrote your cousin, advising him that he need not travel such a distance?”

  “Of course not. In fact, we expect his arrival any day now. I received a note from my mother when I was at the MacKinnons, informing me that, since I was still unwed, I should abide by her wishes and marry the man of her choice. Bertrand March.”

  “Didn’t he garner success in Helena as a miner?” Warren’s gaze became distant, searching his memory. “I seem to remember hearing his name when I traveled to Helena to help Alistair and Leticia last summer.”

  She nodded. “He’s very wealthy. And, for some reason, willing to do my mother’s bidding.”

  Warren flicked the reins with more force than intended, causing the horses to rear their heads and whinny. “We’ll marry today. I refuse to allow your mother to dictate our relationship any more than she already has.” He turned to meet her hopeful gaze. “As long as you are willing to wed me in such haste.”

  She nodded, looping her hand through his arm. She scooted over on the bench and laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s all I’ve ever dreamed of, if I’m honest with myself. I’ve attempted to delude myself for too long.”

  “When Bertrand comes—and he will come, bringing chaos with him—we will face him together.” Warren kissed her brow. “I refuse to leave you alone to contend with your family.”

  “I know that I could resist my mother’s dictates now. I’m stronger than when I approached Alistair last summer. I’m not that same person, with my goal of marrying him and helping Leticia at the same time. He was wise enough to know I could not thwart my mother back then.”

  Warren sighed. “I hate hearing you discuss marrying another.” When he t
hought about Helen attempting to convince Alistair to wed her last summer while he was estranged from Leticia, Warren tensed further. “I’m thankful Alistair wasn’t so despondent as to accept your offer. His love for Leticia was stronger than his anger.” He relaxed as she stroked a hand over his shoulder and upper chest. “I know you could stand up to your mother now. You already have, many times. The difference is, I want to fight with you, not for you. I want you to know you have someone else who you can rely on and who you know is rooting for you. Which is something I fear you haven’t had for much of your life.”

  “It will take me a while to regain my trust in you, Warren,” she whispered. “Even if we wed today.”

  Warren nodded his agreement, and they continued the remainder of the journey to the ranch in contemplative silence. Upon arrival, Frederick strode from the barn, frowning when he saw Warren seated next to Helen.

  “Helen, are you all right?” Frederick asked, reaching up to help her down. She accepted his aid and waited for Warren to step from the sleigh.

  “I am. In fact, we are in need of your assistance. I fear a cousin might arrive soon, raising trouble for me. Warren and I must wed today.” She wrung her hands in front of her before gripping them together over her waist.

  Frederick frowned. “I refuse to wed you when you look as though you are about to attend a funeral, rather than your own wedding.” He glared at Warren who hovered behind Helen. “Have you forced her into this?”

  “Hell no,” Warren snapped. “This is what we both desire.”

  “Helen?” Frederick turned to her, his brow furrowed and unconvinced.

  “I want to marry Warren. I just hadn’t planned on it being so soon.” She smiled at her friend. “Thank you for worrying about me, but this is what I want.” Her eyes shone with joy, although she could not hide her nervousness. “Will you help us?”

  Frederick nodded. “Of course. I can marry you. I’ve married two of the hands.” He turned away, calling to one of the ranch hands as he strode to the barn.

  “Come,” Warren urged. “You should have time to prepare.”

  Helen gripped Warren’s arm. “I know you are a lawyer, and I trust your knowledge. Are you certain our marriage will be valid if performed by Frederick?”

  Warren smiled, cupping her cheeks. “In Montana Territory, a couple must proclaim their intentions and then consummate the marriage. It does not have to be sanctioned by a pastor or a judge.” His finger stroked her soft skin. “It’s not practical in a Territory the size of Montana to require the presence of a religious man or judge at every wedding.”

  “What if we are challenged?”

  His eyes glowed with indignation at the thought. “Then I will inform whoever dares doubt the validity of our union that the US Supreme Court sided with common law marriage in 1877 in Meister v. Moore.” He shrugged. “I doubt your mother would take on the Supreme Court, darling. No matter how angry she becomes.”

  Helen giggled as he had hoped she would, and her eyes glowed with happiness. “I will consider today my real wedding day, but will you say vows with me in front of the pastor when we return to town? I want no doubt in anyone’s mind.”

  He nodded. “As long as you know there is no doubt in mine.” He waited until he saw her agreement. “Thankfully we don’t have to wait for a pastor, and, as of tonight, we will be together as we always should have been.”

  She relaxed when he kissed her forehead and then her lips.

  “And never fear. The pastor will marry us, my love. He wouldn’t dare anger me.” He watched as she thought through his words, and a reluctant belief shone in her eyes. He followed her inside and waited in the parlor as Helen was ushered into her bedroom. He heard giggling and laughter as an elderly woman fussed over her. He smiled at the sound.

  “It’s good to hear her laugh,” Frederick said from the kitchen doorway. His black hair had been combed, and he wore a clean blue shirt with a black waistcoat. “She’s been too serious since she arrived.”

  “I know I should thank you for offering her a place to live after our disagreement. However, I can’t quite get past my anger with you.”

  Frederick shook his head and rolled his eyes as he pushed off the doorjamb and moved into the parlor. “If she’d stayed in town, she would have ended up at the Boudoir, back with her mother or with you. Any one of those results would have compromised her sense of self.” Frederick’s blue eyes were intense as they met Warren’s gaze. “She needed time to come to terms with who she is, what she’s lost and what she hopes to gain. She couldn’t do that in town.”

  Warren let out a deep breath. “And I assume you had no hopes for yourself with her?”

  Frederick let out a deep laugh. “If you spend any time with us, you’ll see we’re more like brother and sister. How siblings should be, not how hers is.” He met Warren’s confused gaze. “Have you ever asked her how her brother treats her? Do you truly understand all she’s suffered?”

  Warren stiffened. “I have an idea.”

  “You need more than an idea. You need to understand. Helen’s greatest barrier to her happiness is herself. And her perception of what she deserves.” He watched Warren with an intense seriousness. “Marrying you today does not mean she accepts this as her due. She will still doubt. She will still try to push you away and prove to you that you have made a mistake.”

  Warren shook his head in confusion. “How do you know this about her?”

  Frederick shrugged. “I’m not blinded by love. You are. Sometimes we need those around us to guide us.”

  Warren sighed and shook his head. “Has anyone ever said that you are like your grandparents?”

  Frederick laughed. “A few times.” He slapped Warren on the back. “Come. Let’s have a drink as your bride prepares for your wedding.”

  Warren stilled. “I’ll have water.” At Frederick’s confused stare, he admitted, “I don’t drink. I can’t, not without losing control. And I won’t do that to Helen. Ever again.”

  Frederick nodded and motioned to follow him into the kitchen. “In that case, coffee’s always on.”

  Warren sighed with relief at the lack of censure and followed the man he realized could be a good friend into the kitchen.

  Helen stood at the doorway to the parlor, a bouquet of dried flowers in her hands. She stood without fidgeting as she fought a nervous desire to run a hand over her pale blue skirt. The ranch hands and two wives were present to witness her wedding. She fought disappointment that Irene and Harold were absent, and she knew Warren would be upset that the MacKinnons had remained in town. However, a late-season storm threatened, and they had wisely chosen to remain close to home.

  Frederick cleared his throat and looked at her pointedly and then at Warren. She walked down the improvised aisle toward Warren with no music or fanfare, but her nerves calmed as she saw the love and hope in Warren’s eyes. When she reached his side, Warren lifted one of her hands to kiss the back of it.

  “My Nell,” he whispered, looking deep in her eyes.

  Frederick cleared his throat again, and they turned their attention to him.

  Throughout the short ceremony, Helen stared into Warren’s eyes, giving little attention to Frederick’s words. She jolted at Warren’s gentle squeeze of her fingers and flushed as she saw Frederick watching her expectantly. She repeated her vows in a clear, strong voice, unable to hide her smile when Warren did the same.

  After the ceremony, they moved into the kitchen as it was the warmest room in the house. The men had prepared a small feast, and they relished giving toasts while ribbing Warren. A gentle snow had begun to fall.

  As the festivities wound down, Frederick pulled aside the newlyweds. “I expect you believe you will spend your first night as husband and wife in Helen’s small room. However, I’ve had one of the cabins made up for you.” His grin was slightly mischievous. “I fear you might be stuck here for a few days after the storm hits.”

  Frederick and Warren laughed when Helen flushed
. They followed Frederick outside, across the yard and into a small house. “This used to be the overseer’s house. I’m searching for one for next season, so it’s empty now.”

  The one room was furnished with a large bed, a desk and a comfortable chair. “He always came to the house for meals, so no reason to have a kitchen here.” The stove had been lit and had warmed the room. “But food is in the basket there. When you are hungry, come to the house. We’ll keep a path shoveled between here and the big house.” Frederick winked at them and left.

  After they were alone, Warren hid his nerves and concern when Helen shied away from his touch by moving to the stove, holding his hands out to warm himself. He sighed with pleasure as heat seeped into his body. “Come, Helen. Warm yourself.”

  When she approached him, he stepped aside, rather than tugging her into his arms as he wanted. He moved to the easy chair, rather than the bed, and sat. As he looked around the room, he saw little touches intended to give the cabin a more welcoming feel. The bed had been turned down, a dried sprig of flowers was in a vase on a bedside table, and the cabin looked freshly swept and dusted. “You have made good friends here, Helen. They wanted to ensure your comfort tonight.”

  Helen shook as she stood in front of the fire. “They are nice people.”

  “I’m glad.” He gripped his hands together, forcing himself to remain seated, rather than rising and pulling her into his arms. “Is the stove not warming you?”

  “It’s fine,” she said. “Why …?”

  When she remained quiet for many seconds, he whispered, “Why what, Nell?”

  “Why won’t you touch me?”

  He groaned and leaped to his feet. He stopped inches short of tugging her into his arms. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you. I wanted you to have the choice to touch me. To choose to be with me.” He met her shocked gaze. “From what I remember and what you said, the last time we were together, I overwhelmed you three years ago. I refuse to do that again. I want there to be no doubt, in either of our minds, that our desire, our passion for each other, is mutual.”