Second Chance Brides

by McDonough, Vickie;

  Dan smiled and nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s all gather around the table and pray over the food. Looks real good.”

  Dan led the way into the kitchen, now crowded with people. He walked around the table and stopped next to Leah. She kept her gaze ahead, not wanting people to know the depth of her feelings for the man next to her.

  “Let’s hold hands.” Dan’s deep voice rumbled next to her, and she felt his fingers searching for hers. He clutched her hand like a man grabbing the reins of a runaway wagon. “Dear Lord. Good friends and f–family. I ask that You receive my ma into Your arms and reunite her with my pa. They loved each other here on earth for a long while. Bless this food, and the friends gathered here today. Amen.”

  He squeezed Leah’s hand before letting go. She stood back and allowed the men to dish up first; then she took a bowl and helped herself. If she let her mind go, she could pretend that she and Dan were married and living in this house. That they had invited their close friends over—well, all except the Corbett brothers.

  She followed the other women outside to sit on the front porch. Dan’s gaze followed her movement as she walked through the parlor, past the other men. Maybe her pretending wasn’t that far off.

  CHAPTER 16

  Saturday evening arrived sunny with a north wind that brought slightly cooler temperatures. Shannon was ever so glad the stifling summer heat was gone, at least for the moment. But with this being Texas, heat was never gone for good, so she’d been told numerous times.

  Lively music filled the air, and dancers promenaded, curtsied and bowed, and swung their partners in wide circles. The American square dance reminded her a bit of an Irish jig, though it seemed more organized.

  She watched Mark, grinning wide, catch the hand of his pretty blond partner, and they danced forward and back, once, twice, three times. He looked happy. She sighed. He had no idea that her heart ached for him. Why couldn’t he smile at her like that? All he ever did was stare at her, probing with those amazing eyes.

  She’d never planned to fall for a Corbett, not after their shenanigans, but something about Mark called to her. He seemed happy enough on the outside, but there was a longing in his heart, something he yearned for or that pained him, something that he’d never expressed to her—and she doubted he’d ever spoken of it to his brother. Trying to talk seriously with Garrett was a waste of time, if you asked her. The man was full of blarney and had been born in the wrong century. He should have been a court jester. She grinned, thinking how silly he’d look jumping around in one of those jester outfits she’d seen in a book. Garrett danced his partner around Mark and bumped his brother, almost knocking him down. Garrett laughed, but Mark scowled.

  “Those Corbett brothers must be happy with so many people showing up this evening.” Leah wiped down the table that had held her baked goods. “It’s hard to believe everything sold in less than ten minutes when it took hours to bake it all.”

  “You’ll have to be making more next time. I’d be happy to help you.”

  “I might just take you up on that offer.” Leah shoved her fist to her back. “I did so much baking that I don’t think I can dance tonight.”

  “Not even with Dan?” She shot her friend a playful look.

  “No, not even him. But he won’t be here tonight. He’s mourning his mother.”

  “Have you seen him since the funeral?”

  Leah nodded, and her cheeks turned pink. “I walked over to the livery while you were at work yesterday morning and took him several of the muffins left over from our breakfast, but I haven’t seen him today. I wonder how he’s getting along.”

  “’Twas nice how the Corbetts offered to cancel the social since the funeral was just two days past. But Mark said Dan told them to go ahead and hold it.”

  Leah nodded. “It would have been nearly impossible to get word out that fast, and he didn’t want people coming all the way to town and finding out the social had been called off.”

  Shannon stacked the dirty pie pans into a crate and then added the soiled plates on top. “Do you think you made enough money to bake more next time and also get some fabric like you’ve been wanting?”

  “Maybe, but I’ll have to order the cloth, so I doubt if it would be here in time for the next social. I could have the Corbetts pick some up in Dallas, but the thought of having those two select fabric for me makes me cringe.”

  Shannon smiled, stopping beside her friend to watch the dancers. “Have you heard the Fosters have decided not to rebuild the store?”

  Leah spun to face her, surprise evident in her wide blue eyes. “But what will the town do without a mercantile? How can it survive?”

  “Garrett told Mark that Mr. Foster’s niece is moving here with her two children, and she will take it over.”

  “Is she not married?”

  Shannon shrugged one shoulder. “He said something about her being a widow.”

  “I’m sorry for her loss. Maybe we should warn her that the Corbetts will try to find her another husband if she comes here.”

  Giggling, Shannon shoved Leah with her arm. “Nay, then she won’t come, and we need the store.”

  “Too true.”

  “There’s to be a store raisin’ next Saturday. Mr. Foster wants to supervise the building project, and then he and his wife will move to Dallas to live with his mother, who’s getting on in years.”

  “I know folks around here will miss them.” Leah gathered the last of the silverware and set it in the crate, then wiped down the table. “I’ve heard they’ve been part of this town since its beginning.”

  A group of five cowboys who’d just arrived sauntered toward them. The hair on the back of Shannon’s neck lifted. These fellows looked rough and right off the range. Most of the men who were looking for a wife had taken the time to bathe and, at the very least, put on clean clothes and slapped on some sweet-smelling stuff. These fellows looked like they were just out for a good time.

  The tallest strode directly toward Shannon. He smelled of dust and cattle and had nearly a week’s growth of beard. His jeans and boots were filthy.

  “I’m not dancing tonight. I was just helping serve the food.” She hiked up her chin to show him she meant business.

  “Ah, a purdy little lady like her don’t want to dance with the likes of you, Dom.”

  The tall man narrowed his eyes at the speaker. “Shut up, Chappy. She sure don’t want an old man. She’s young and pretty and needs a hearty man. Ain’t that what this shindig is all about?”

  Shannon backed closer to Leah. She didn’t want to dance with any of these drovers. The tall man named Dom drew up near her and grabbed her wrist. “I rode two hours to get to this party, and I aim to dance.”

  “Leave her alone, you bully.” Leah yanked at the man’s hand and tried to pull it off Shannon’s arm.

  He elbowed her back and pulled Shannon toward the dance floor. Shannon dug in her heels, not making it easy.

  A dark-haired man with an eye patch walked past her toward Leah. “C’mon, blondie. Guess you and me’ll take a spin.”

  Shannon’s heart pounded, and her legs trembled. The man swung her around and pulled her up close. She turned her face away to avoid smelling his foul breath, but not before she caught a whiff of liquor.

  Suddenly, she was wrenched backward, and Mark and Garrett stood between her and the cowboy.

  “Hey, that’s my gal. Get out of my way.” Dom glared at the brothers, his fists raised.

  “This is a civilized gathering. Troublemakers aren’t welcome,” Mark said.

  “That’s right. You and your friends would be better served at the Wet Your Whistle.”

  “So says you.” The man swung, but Garrett ducked.

  Mark guided Shannon out of the way as the four other cowboys joined in to help their buddy. The dance stopped as most of the men set aside their ladies and came to Garrett’s rescue. Mark hurried toward the crowd.

  “No, Mark, your cast,” Shannon yelle
d, but she doubted he heard through the roar.

  Punches flew left and right. Upraised voices shouted from all directions. Men were knocked down, but most jumped right back up. Women screamed. Shannon lost sight of Mark. She wrung her hands and prayed, “Please, Father God, keep him safe.”

  A man stumbled toward her backward, arms flailing. She jumped out of his way, and dodged another man who fell at her feet.

  Suddenly, the blast of a gun rent the air. Everyone froze. Marshal Davis sat atop his horse with his gun pointed at the sky. The scent of gunpowder tinged the air. “That’s enough of that. Garrett! Mark! What’s goin’ on here?”

  Garrett shoved a man off of himself and stood, wiping the dirt from his clothes. “We were just having a friendly time here until these cowboys”—he looked around the crowd and pointed at the five men—“started some trouble.”

  The marshal waved his gun at the men. “All of you, get over here.”

  They begrudgingly did as told, mumbling and slapping dirt and examining bruised fists.

  “Now, you can leave town, go down to the saloon, or get hauled off to jail, but the dance is over for you.”

  “Aww…we just wanted to take a spin with a purdy gal, Marshal.” The shortest man of the five lifted his bushy face toward Luke. Blood ran down the corner of his mouth.

  “This dance is for the purpose of people meeting with a mind to marry. I don’t see how that applies to you cowpokes. These woman are ladies, not saloon girls, and as such, they deserve your respect and to be treated kindly. Get moving, and I don’t want to see you at this social again. Not tonight. Not in the future.”

  Each of the men found their hats, which had been knocked off during the fight. They collected their horses, and the marshal escorted them down the street. A large man ran past them, and his steps slowed as he walked toward Leah. Shannon smiled. Had Dan heard the ruckus and been worried about Leah?

  The music started up again, and Shannon looked for Mark. He stood next to the table, rummaging through the crate of dirty dishes. She hurried toward him. What could he be looking for?

  “Can I help you find something?”

  He turned, and she gasped. His lower lip had swollen, and blood ran down his chin. One eye was swelling shut, and the knuckles of his left hand were bleeding. He held his cast against his chest. Had he injured his arm again?

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. I just need a cloth or something to use to wipe this blood off my face.”

  The rag they’d wiped off the table with was still in the bucket. She swished it around the water to clean it and then squeezed out the excess water. She tried to dab the blood, but Mark reached for the rag.

  “I can do it.”

  “Just rest and let me tend to you.”

  He sighed but sat on the edge of the table and allowed her to clean his wound. He stared at the dancers and sat stiff as a fence post.

  Shannon wilted a little inside. Did he despise her so much?

  He had no idea how being this close to him made her feel. She tried to hold her hand steady. She’d touched him so few times and was rarely close enough to see the variations of blue in his eyes. Pressing lightly, she turned his chin toward her and dabbed at the blood. His left eye was ugly and swollen. If only she had a cold slab of meat to put on it. “Does it hurt you?”

  Mark flexed his injured hand. “Not too bad.”

  Shannon took his large hand in hers and held it lightly, then laid the cloth over his knuckles and looked up. He’d been watching her. She longed to draw him close, to let him know how scared she’d been for him. No wonder he was so battered when he could use only his left hand to defend himself. He was too honorable to conk anyone with his cast, even if it meant he took the brunt of the fight.

  Several stems of grass were stuck in his hair, and she boldly plucked them out. She longed to run her hands through his hair but instead dropped them to her side. He was staring at her, and she captured his gaze. Her breathing turned ragged, and she fought to control it. Her heart throbbed, and for a fleeting second, she thought he might kiss her. But he turned his head and stood, taking the cloth off his hand. He tossed it onto the table, muttered thanks, and strode off.

  Shannon hung her head. What about her was so undesirable? Did he consider her nothing more than the hired help? Or was it the fact that she was Irish?

  She’d read in the newspaper that in big cities like New York some employers had posted signs that said NINA—no Irish need apply.

  Rinsing the cloth, she thought about that. He’d never treated her as if her heritage bothered him. Yes, he didn’t want her working at the freight office at first, but he seemed to have gotten used to the idea. So…she could work for him, but she could never be anything more than an employee. Tears blurred her eyes.

  How did she explain that to her heart?

  Dan strode up to Leah and grasped her shoulders. His frantic gaze ran down her body. “Are you hurt? Did anyone bother you? What happened here?”

  Leah offered a smile to calm him down. Why was he so agitated? It was just a brawl. Certainly not the first one in Lookout. “I’m perfectly fine. What are you doing here?”

  He released her and paced to the end of the table and back, curling the edges of his hat. Various expressions crossed his face, but she didn’t understand them. He stopped in front of her and looked around. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

  “Shall we take a walk?”

  He shoved his hat back on and nodded, offering his arm. A slow tune followed them as they meandered past the church and down the road leading out of town. The sun had not yet set and still cast enough light so that walking wasn’t difficult. They crested a hill, and once they’d gone down the other side, blocking the town from their view, Dan stopped. He swiped his hat off again and resumed his pacing.

  Leah almost smiled, but his anxiety seemed too real for jesting. She waited, twisting her hands behind her back, wondering what was on his mind. Maybe he was ready for her to clean out his mother’s bedroom, as she’d offered.

  A determined look crossed his face, and he strode right up to her, stopping only a few feet away. “I know the timing is rotten, and some folks will look down on us—because I’m still in mourning—but knowing you were near that fight and I wasn’t around to protect you scared ten years off of me.”

  Confusion clouded Leah’s mind. “It’s not your job to protect me, Dan.”

  His mouth worked as if he were chewing something tough. “No, but I want it to be.” He slapped his hat against his pants leg and walked off a few feet.

  He wanted to protect her? Her heart quickened. Was it possible that he had fallen for her like she had him? She clutched her hands to her chest. Please, God.

  He turned again. “It’s lousy timing.”

  “What is?” She moved closer, daring to touch his arm.

  His gaze lifted to the sky, and she studied his square jaw. Some women might say he was too rugged, too big to be handsome, but she liked him just how he was. He looked strong enough to protect her from anyone.

  His gaze locked with hers. “Leah…” Her name sounded special on his lips. Cherished in the deep timbre of his voice. “I–I’ve never done this before.”

  “Done what?”

  He studied her face, his dark eyes roving, caressing. “Asked a gal to marry me.”

  Leah felt her own eyes go wide. She struggled to swallow. To find her voice. “Are you?”

  A soft smile tugged at his lips. “You wouldn’t think me a cad to ask you to marry me when I just buried my ma?”

  Leah smiled and tears blurred her vision. She shook her head.

  Dan tugged at his pants leg, and knelt before her. A rainbow of emotions flooded her. Could this actually be happening?

  He took her hands in his fingertips. “Leah, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’ve cared for you since I first saw you. I couldn’t say nothin’ when you were uh—” He looked away for a moment. “When you were competing
for Luke’s hand, but now you’re free of that. Would you…uh…would you consider being my wife?”

  Leah squealed, and Dan jumped up and looked behind him. She broke into a fit of giggles. He stared at her like she’d gone crazy. “What’s so funny?”

  Leah tried to sober but kept seeing him jump. “Nothing.”

  “Was my proposal so ridiculous?” Hurt laced his gaze.

  All humor fled, and she touched his arm again. “Not at all. I’m sorry.” She straightened and looked him in the eye, so he’d have no doubts to her seriousness. “I’d be delighted and honored to be your wife.”

  “You would? You’re not joshin’ me?”

  Leah grinned. “No, Dan. My feelings for you have grown quickly, too.” She longed to tell him that she loved him, but felt something so serious should come from the man first.

  Dan grinned and shoved his hat back on. “When?”

  “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “How about tomorrow?” He chuckled, his eyes gleaming. “A lady needs time to prepare.” The thought of buying and making a wedding dress suddenly gave her cause for concern. Had she made enough selling pies and cookies to buy what she needed?

  Dan took her hands. “What’s wrong? I can see that something’s bothering you. Is it the timing?”

  Leah stared at the ground, not wanting Dan to know how little she possessed. He had a house, nice furnishings, food, even a business, but what did she have to offer? She didn’t even want children, and that thought burned a hole in her heart. Would he still want to marry her if he knew?

  She needed to tell him, but she couldn’t do it now. She didn’t want to ruin the sweetness of the moment.

  He gently took hold of her upper arms again. “Leah, if it’s money you need, I have some. Not a lot, but plenty enough to buy you a wedding dress and whatever other fripperies a bride needs.”

  “You shouldn’t have to pay for everything. I just don’t have much to offer, and it doesn’t seem fair to you.”

  He pulled her to his chest, and she nuzzled in close. His head rested on hers, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Darlin’, you’re all I want. I don’t care if you’re wearing all you own. It’s you that’s important to me. Whenever I see you, my heart perks up and sings, like one of them songbirds outside my window each morning. Knowing you’re near helps me to keep going even though ma is gone. If I have you, I’m not alone.”