Would Mr. Carter bring the trunk today? If so, he wouldn’t show up until at least the noon hour. She finished collecting eggs and headed back to the dugout to fix breakfast.
A cloud of dust rose on the horizon. She set the basket on a stump and grabbed her rifle. Surely Hayward wouldn’t bother her so early in the morning.
Cattle and horses thundered toward her. Annie whistled for Scout and dashed inside the dugout. Underground was the safest place she could think of to be in a stampede. She gathered May in her arms and waited for the pounding of hooves overhead. None came. Instead, a whistle pierced the day. She slowly emerged into the sunlight.
Drake marched toward her, his face set in grim lines. Soot marked his skin and clothing. Strange cattle mingled with hers.
“What’s happening?” Annie peered into his face.
“You’re coming with me to collect your trunk.” He slapped his hat against his thigh, sending puffs of dust and ashes into the air.
“Are these your cattle?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand.” Whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it.
“My place is gone. Burned to the ground. House, barn, everything.”
“Hayward?”
“That’s my guess.” Drake slapped his hat back on his head. “So we’re going into town and getting hitched.”
Annie froze. “Excuse me?”
“We’re getting married. I told Hayward we were.”
Fire burned through her limbs. If she didn’t know better, she’d think smoke came out her ears. “And why, pray tell, would you do something so stupid?” She stuck her hands in her pockets to prevent herself from punching him.
“It’s the only way to keep you and May safe. If you’re married, Hayward can’t pester you to marry him. Any deals he wants to try to make would go through your husband.” Drake waved an arm at the mingling cattle. “I’ve combined our stock, removed the boundary fence, and come to stay until I have time to build another house. I can’t do that unless we’re married. It wouldn’t be proper.”
“Neither is doing all that without consulting me!” Annie stepped close enough that her nose practically touched his chin. “I haven’t been married a month yet, nor widowed for much less time than that. Perhaps I don’t wish to wed again.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Drake planted his hands on his hips and stared into her eyes.
My, a woman could forget herself. His eyes were so blue. No, there were other things to contend with. “We were doing just fine as we were.”
“I can’t ride back and forth every day. I can’t watch both places at the same time.”
“Then I’ll care for myself.” Annie whirled, grabbed her basket of eggs with enough force to send several crashing to the ground, and stomped down the stairs of the dugout.
The man was plumb loco. She slammed the door and cringed as dirt rained on her head. She set the basket on the table and plopped on the edge of her cot. May watched her, silent as usual unless the subject of a bath came up.
Was there reason in Mr. Carter’s proposition? True, having a man around full-time would be convenient and safer, but Annie had always dreamed of a proper proposal. Her first marriage occurred on paper. Why did she expect another one to be better? She took a deep breath and filled a kettle with water.
If today was going to be her wedding day, she might as well wash up. She ran her hands down her buckskin pants. Since she’d grown old enough to know her own mind, her insistence on wearing britches had been a point of consternation with her ma. Now the idea of wearing a dress seemed foreign. What would Mr. Carter think if she started dressing like a woman? What should she care? Pants were more practical.
Would God ever send her a man to love, or would her marriages always be ones of convenience? And what about Christmas? The dugout had no room for a tree. Annie doubted May had ever experienced Christmas, and it had been years since she had. What a silly woman, worried over something as trivial as holiday decorations.
She stood and cracked eggs into the skillet. “Go tell Mr. Carter that breakfast is almost ready.”
May dashed outside. She returned by the time Annie set plates of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. “He says he’ll eat outside.”
“I don’t think so.” She exited the dugout and approached Mr. Carter by the well. “If I’m to marry you without a proper proposal, then the least you can do is eat with your soon-to-be family.” She crossed her arms.
“I don’t like closed-in spaces.”
“Then how in tarnation do you expect to have a place to sleep?” Annie glanced around her land. “I don’t even have a barn.”
“Reckon I didn’t think that far ahead.”
She narrowed her eyes. “There’s no time like the present to get over your fears. Come on.” She marched away, knowing without looking that he would follow. She grinned. No man liked to be outwitted by a woman.
Ignoring the fact that Mr. Carter paused at the dugout’s entrance, Annie took her seat at the table, raised the wick on the lantern to cast more light around the room, and waited. Drake joined her with all the enthusiasm of a man going to his own hanging.
“So, you’ll marry me?” He sat across from her.
“I reckon, although I’ve heard of better proposals.” She flushed at the sight of her cot behind him. “May will sleep with me, and you can have the other cot.”
“Fair enough.” Mr. Carter spooned a healthy serving of eggs onto his plate. “We’ll head into town after breakfast and hunt down the preacher.”
“And fetch my things.” Annie set her hand over his and gave it a squeeze.
He raised a startled glance.
She glared at him. “Here’s a warning for you. If you try to take my gold, I’ll shoot you, husband or not.”
Chapter 4
Annie followed her husband-to-be into town with May perched on the horse behind her. At least this wedding would have a physical groom in attendance.
By the time they reached town, snow flurries drifted from a gray sky. Annie shivered and pulled her wool coat closer around her. She could feel May’s shudders and wondered how much credit Bill had at the mercantile. Clearly, they both needed warmer coats.
She peered in the window of Grayson’s as they rode past. A scarlet dress adorned a headless dress form. What would it feel like to dress like a girl for once? A woman? She shrugged. A dress around a rundown ranch. Britches were more practical. She ran a hand over her thigh. Besides, she was the one who killed the doe whose skin she’d used.
Mr. Carter stopped in front of a clapboard building with a small steeple. He dismounted and helped May down from the back of Annie’s horse. With her heart in her throat, Annie followed him inside. Marriage was forever, “till death do you part.” And she knew less about this man than she’d known about Bill. At least with Bill, she’d corresponded over the course of several months.
“Are you okay?” Mr. Carter removed his hat. “It’s not too late to back out, although I still think marriage is the safest recourse.”
“No, I’m not changing my mind. There’s strength in numbers, and we can’t fight together unless we’re wed.” She wiped sweaty palms down the legs of her pants and wondered again about purchasing a dress. How would Mr. Carter look at her if she looked like a woman?
Would she see admiration in his eyes or the same weary resignation he exhibited now?
He crooked his arm and gave her a small smile. She slid her hand in the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her to the pastor’s residence. Before she knew it, Annie Templeton Morgan added Carter to her name.
“Your trunk is most likely at the livery. Is there somewhere else you’d like to go while we’re in town?” Mr. Carter escorted her outside.
“The mercantile, please.” Annie had a list in her mind and knew that a full day back and forth would make trips to town few and far between.
He nodded. “Why don’t you do that while I rent a buckboard for your tru
nk? You should probably buy necessities for the winter, too. Mine burned with the house.”
Annie took May’s hand and rushed across the street. Pa rarely wanted to wait while Ma shopped. Perhaps her latest husband was the same.
A bell tinkled over the door when she pushed it open, and a round woman behind the counter greeted them with a smile. Annie sent May to sit by the woodstove radiating heat in the center of the store while she browsed.
“I’m Mrs. Grayson,” the shopkeeper told her. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’m Mrs. Morgan—no, now Mrs. Carter.” Would she ever be able to keep her names straight? Annie leaned closer to the woman. “I’m looking for a doll.”
“For the little one?” Mrs. Grayson grinned. “Oh, hello, little May. I remember you from when you visited with your pa in the spring.” She lowered her voice. “I have just the thing. A pretty, curly haired doll with a blue dress.” She pulled a box from under the counter. “I’ve yet to set them on the shelf.”
“Do you have a child’s dress to match?” Annie peered under the lid. Her breath caught at the doll’s beauty. She’d always wanted one.
“We do.” Mrs. Grayson came around the counter and led Annie to a rack of readymade clothing. “This looks about the child’s size.” She removed a dress the same shade as May’s eyes. The garment had white ruffles around the neck and hem. It was perfect. “What about for yourself ?”
Could she? Annie looked down at her calico blouse and stained britches. “The dress in the window.” She exhaled. She was buying a dress. Had she lost her mind? Pa would say she was growing silly in her adult years. She didn’t care. A red dress for Christmas!
“Lovely. Do you need flour, sugar…?”
“Yes, and heavy coats. I’ll be back in the spring to settle my account.” On a whim, she grabbed a forest-green man’s shirt from the rack and added it to the pile, along with wool and cotton to sew clothing. If Mr. Carter’s food had burned, then so had his clothes, and he needed something under the tree on Christmas morning, too.
For as long as Annie could remember, she’d wanted something of her own. Now she had land, a child, and a husband. One more thing than her poor ma and pa had had. Poor sharecroppers, they’d rarely had anything to call their own, much less land. She’d work hard to keep all three, whether her marriage had love or not. Over time, God willing, they could at least have mutual respect.
“Which account should I put these on? Mr. Morgan’s or Mr. Carter’s?” Mrs. Grayson opened a thick leather-bound book. “Or should I combine the two?”
“Yes, please.” She supposed she’d have to let her husband know.
May tugged on Annie’s sleeve. “That man is staring.” She pointed.
Annie turned to the window. Mr. Hayward stood on the sidewalk. He tipped his hat and continued on his way. “Add some ammunition to that pile of supplies, would you, Mrs. Grayson?”
So much for flights of fancy. Life would be spent keeping May safe and holding on to her land. There wasn’t time for foolishness or daydreaming or wondering what ifs about love.
Drake hitched the horses to the buckboard and glared at Hayward as the man paced the sidewalk in front of the mercantile. He was sure it was all around town that the Widow Morgan and he were hitched. Word spread fast in those parts. Why couldn’t the man leave well enough alone?
If there was gold on Bill’s land, he would have said something. Even a fool who bothered to ask questions would know Bill recently came from California. That’s how he’d had the funds to purchase his land in the first place. He’d earned the gold working in a gaming hall.
Drake had told his neighbor plenty of times not to flash the nuggets around, but he’d wanted to buy the supplies to build a cabin for his new bride. Drake shook his head. All for nothing. Now he was dead over a squabble. Drake hooked the tugs to the evener. And now he was married with a child.
Life could take a huge turn in a short amount of time. It was all a man could do to keep up.
Horses hitched, he led them across the street in order to load the supplies. Hayward nodded and moved toward the saloon. Good riddance.
Annie came out of the mercantile. “Why doesn’t he shoot us and get it over with?” She boosted May into the wagon. “If that’s his intention.”
“I don’t think he intends to kill anyone.” Drake watched the man push through the saloon’s swinging doors. “Bill was an accident, Hayward said. He said Bill fired first.”
“You believe him?”
“I do. If Hayward was a murdering a man, we’d be dead for sure. No, he intends to run us off or force us to sell, and he’ll burn us out if he has to.”
“Like he did you.” Annie marched back into the mercantile and returned with her arms loaded.
“I’ll get those. You watch May.” He took the bundles from her.
“I can carry things.” Her eyes flashed.
Drake didn’t think she could get any prettier than when riled. “Let me do the heavy work. A woman has enough to do. Hasn’t a man ever taken care of you?”
She tilted her chin. “No. I don’t want a man to take care of me. I want a man to let me work alongside him as God intended.”
“How so?” Drake leaned against the wagon. This ought to be interesting.
“Do you believe in the Bible, Mr. Carter?”
“Drake.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s Drake. We’re married, and yes, I believe in the truth of God’s Word.”
“Then you know Eve was created as a helpmate for Adam.” She crossed her arms and fixed her eyes on his.
“Point taken. Suit yourself. We’ll load the wagon together.” He marched inside and slung a bag of flour over his shoulder, chuckling as Annie struggled to do the same. He wanted to tell her to take the smaller things just to get her riled again but thought better of it. The ride home was long, and could be even longer with an angry woman.
By the time they got the wagon loaded, snow fell heavier. It’d most likely turn to rain by morning. Drake looked at the pile of supplies and shook his head, knowing he’d have to go back to the livery to get a canvas covering. Seemed like women required a lot of things. He would start on a shed first thing in the morning in which to store it all, and then he’d start a cabin, weather permitting.
He hoisted himself on the wagon seat and flicked the reins. Annie’s thigh brushed against his, sending a wave of heat through the layers of both their pants. Separate cots or not, he doubted he’d get much sleep that night. Not with her breathing a few feet away and him having to sleep inside such a closed-in space like the dugout.
“Here.” Annie draped a thick wool coat over him. “I bought us all new coats.”
“Really?” Knowing she’d thought of him warmed him more than any coat. He took another look at her and May. Sure enough, they both wore new coats. Good thing, because with the way the snow was coming down, the horses would be knee deep in the stuff by the time they got home.
“I’m much obliged.” He didn’t begrudge her the pile in the back of the wagon. As sweet as she was proving to be, he’d be hard pressed not to shower her with gifts himself. Maybe he should have gotten hitched a long time ago.
Late afternoon looked like nightfall when they reached home. Drake sent the females inside while he unhitched the animals and sent them to their corral and lean-to. He stomped his feet to warm them. The supplies could stay where they were. Covered with the tarp, they’d be all right until he found a place to put them. Bill would have piled them in a corner of the dugout, but Drake wanted to make the place less crowded. Maybe he could find a lock that hadn’t burned in the fire at his place.
He gazed at the door. It’d be dim in there. Airless. He shuddered, whether from cold or nerves, he didn’t know.
Annie opened the door. “You coming?”
“Yeah.”
She stepped out, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “You’re afraid. Why?”
The time had to co
me sooner or later. “When I was twelve, I went camping with my older cousins and followed them into a cave and got lost. I had no lantern and headed farther away from the opening. It took until the next day until I found my way out. Can’t stomach small places to this day.”
She tilted her head and peered up under the brim of his hat. “I can’t make the dugout larger, but I can light a second lantern, and you can have the cot by the window so you can see the sky.”
He wanted to kiss her. Grab her close and claim her lips. No one had ever been so thoughtful of him. Yet now he was married to a woman who didn’t love him but wanted to make sure he was comfortable. He had nothing to give her in return but protection. He prayed it would be enough.
Chapter 5
Annie woke to darkness. Sometime during the night, Drake must have extinguished the lanterns. She smiled at his bravery. She wouldn’t say a word. If he could sleep without a lit lantern, they’d save on fuel.
Glancing at his cot, she noted it was empty. The lack of laziness on Drake’s part, even before their marriage, warmed her despite the chill in the room. It wasn’t as freezing as the cabin back home, but even in a home underground, winter made itself felt.
She glanced out the slit of a window. The sun was just beginning its peek over the mountains, painting the sky with coral and pumpkin. A light dusting of snow covered the ground. Oh she hoped they’d have a white Christmas.
After lighting a lantern, she set to starting a fire in the stove. Breakfast would be ready by the time Drake returned from morning chores. She glanced at May and decided to let the little one sleep. Annie had lost sleep during the night because of the child’s thrashing. May likely needed more rest.
Half an hour later, Drake returned with a pail of milk and a few eggs.
“We have a milk cow?” Pleasure rippled through Annie. There was so much she needed to discover about her new home.
A Pioneer Christmas Collection Page 27
