Tyler pulled in a deep breath. “A couple of the boys?”
“Yeah," Joe said, turning toward him, “but I'll be damned if I can remember which ones.”
He didn't know what to say. He couldn't condone what they had done, yet when he glanced over his shoulder and saw Rory in that bed, shot from behind . . . It could have been his boy in a grave on the green bluffs overlooking the Lodestar if that bullet had struck an artery. Hell, if Libby hadn't grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shaken him, this still might have ended differently.
Joe put out his hand. “Tyler, I'll be sayin' good night.”
Tyler took the hand and pulled Joe close for an instant in a backslapping embrace. “Thanks, Joe. And—if you remember who those two men were, you thank them for me, too.”
He smiled and started toward the stairs. “That I'll do.” He gestured toward Libby's closed door. “Don't keep that gal waitin' too long.”
*~*~*
Just before dawn, Libby rolled over when she felt the empty side of the mattress sag beneath Tyler's weight. Even though it was dark, she knew it was him. Despite the day and night he'd had, he still smelled like fresh air and clean hay.
“Tyler?”
“Sorry, angel. I thought I'd be able to sneak in and get into bed without waking you.” His bare skin was cold and he sounded exhausted. She pulled him over to rest his head on her shoulder.
A tired groan escaped him. “God, you're nice and warm.” He burrowed against her and she tucked the quilt up around his neck.
“How is Rory?”
“He'll be fine. He's young and strong. I forced some salt water into him and I changed the dressing on his leg. The wound looks good. It's clean and as long as we take care of it, we should see proud flesh forming in a few days. And I expect him to be strong enough to attend our wedding.”
Libby was relieved it had turned out so well, but she felt a twinge of conscience for some of the hard things she'd snapped at him in the kitchen. “Tyler?”
“Hmm.”
She stroked his thick, soft hair. “I-I'm sorry I said those awful things this afternoon. I don't really think you're a coward.”
He sighed and was silent for a moment before answering. “Libby-girl, I didn't think I was either, until you forced me to take that hard look at myself. But over the last five years, I got scared. Mostly I was afraid of the shadows and ghosts deep inside. I guess the part of me that was the strongest got broken somehow. I didn't know how to fix it, so I just kept backing away from anything and anybody who tried to get too close. Including you.”
The echo of desolation in his voice brought tears to her eyes and they ran from the corners of her eyes to the pillow. “I think you're the finest man I've ever known.”
His voice was light and a bit slurred with exhaustion. “If I am, it's because you made me that way. You gave me back my soul.”
As he drifted away into sleep, Libby whispered, “It was a fair trade, Tyler. My heart for your soul.”
*~*~*
“And do you, Tyler Michael Hollins, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health as you both shall live?” Sheriff Jack Watkins peered over his reading glasses at Tyler, fixing him with a stern look.
“I do.”
Libby felt Tyler squeeze her hand as he spoke. Although he tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, she heard it quaver just a tiny bit. He looked so handsome in his dark gray frock coat and black silk tie. She never would have dreamed that the man she'd seen dressed only in chaps and jeans could be so breathtakingly handsome. No Chicago gentleman ever looked finer.
Beaming at Tyler's answer—as if he might have responded another way—Sheriff Watkins said, “Well, then, by the power vested in me by Montana Territory in this Year of Our Lord eighteen hundred and eighty-seven, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He gestured at Tyler. “All right, son, you can give your gal a kiss now.”
Tyler took Libby into his arms and gave her a short, tender kiss that held the promise of something much more exciting and intimate later. One glimpse at his blue eyes, eyes that matched the endless sky over them, vowed the same. He dipped his head to take her mouth again. Just before his lips touched hers, he whispered, "I love you, honey.”
“All right, all right,” Sheriff Watkins said, clearing his throat “That's enough, Ty.” He put his hands on their shoulders and turned them toward their guests. “Friends, I'm pleased to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Tyler Michael Hollins.”
They were greeted with cheers and whooping the likes of which Libby had never heard, but then, there were people present from five ranches. She and Tyler laughed like youngsters and held hands as they stood on the front porch of the Lodestar to meet the people who had become so dear to Libby.
She let her gaze scan the sea of cowboy hats. There was Rory, who was healing well, and Joe, the Cooper brothers, Noah, and all the rest. She dabbed her damp eyes with her handkerchief. Finally, she had the family she'd yearned for.
Finally, here in Montana, Liberty Garrison Hollins was home.
Epilogue
Joe ambled over to Rory, who paced in front of Libby's flower beds. Most of the men had found some excuse to stay close to the house this June morning. And for once, Joe couldn't find a better reason to pull them back to work, especially since he was slacking off as much as the rest of them. Jim Colby was showing Noah how to improve his hooley-ann throw—Noah just couldn't seem to get the way of that roping trick. Hickory and Possum were showing Kansas Bob the finer points of mumblety-peg.
“Heard anything yet?” Joe asked Rory.
“No, dang it, and I'm just about worn down.”
Joe laughed. It was good to see the boy back to normal again. It had taken awhile, but he was young and strong. When he thought of that awful day a year ago, and Rory stretched out on the kitchen table, more dead than alive—
Joe pushed back his hat. “Maybe we should tell Tyler to hurry things along. We've got work to do out here.”
Just then, the front door opened.
Tyler walked out on the porch, drying his hands on a towel. Looking at the men gathered in the yard, he chuckled. “What is this? Somebody's birthday or something?”
Joe called back with a grin, “I don't know, Tyler. Is it?”
Tyler flung the towel over his shoulder and let his eyes rest on each face turned in his direction. Unable to keep them in suspense any longer, his laughter rang free then. “Yes, by God, it is! We've got a new man on the place—Charles Joseph Hollins. His mama is doing fine and he'll be out here teaching Noah that damned hooley-ann before we know it.”
The laughing and cheering that followed brought tears to Tyler's eyes. To have such friends and such a wonderful wife, he felt like the luckiest man on earth.
He felt like a man who'd been allowed a taste of heaven.
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