by Reece Butler
“Yep, as long as Sarah’s babies had Frost as a last name. But you’re missing the other point.” Oz waited for Gabe’s full attention. “Luke talked as if he planned for Sarah to be here, and have our babies.”
“He’s been saying he wants to marry Sarah since he first saw her. How was this any different?”
“For once, he said it without that cocky, arrogant, anything-I-say-will-happen attitude.” Oz sifted through his set of punches. He found one with a star and held it up, using it to emphasize his point. “Something has changed the mighty Luke Frost. Maybe it was you punching out his lights. Or maybe having Sarah gone for a couple of days made him realize what we’d be missing.”
“I have a damn good idea what we’re missing, and I don’t like it at all,” groused Gabe. “I want her back here, at home, with us.”
“She wants her business, and independence.”
Gabe stared uphill, toward the tall pine trees to the north and west. They protected the cabin from the cold winds which could pull the heat from a man’s skin so fast he froze solid.
“No,” he said quietly. “Sarah wants to feel she has value, respect, and is safe from the things other men did to her in the past. She believes she’ll get all that from owning her own business. Look at her father, her uncle, and that bastard that sold her. All of them treated her like she was something to be enjoyed as long as she was of use, then thrown away.”
“We don’t do that, and she knows it.”
“Yeah, but it’s not us she’d be legally married to. It’s Luke. She has to trust him, to believe he truly loves and respects her, and will consider her needs equally as his own. If she can do that, she won’t need to work long hours in the bakery to feel whole. We can show her what it’s like to be cherished for who she is, and help make her dreams happen. No business can do that.”
“You’ve known Luke all your life. You think there’s hope?”
“Only if he can get over his fear.” Gabe hunched down to rub an ecstatic Daisy. “Luke thinks it’s just heights, but it’s really that he’s afraid if he marries Sarah, and loves her, something will happen to her. She’ll be raped and murdered and it will be his fault. Just like his sisters. He needs to understand that protecting his heart may keep him from pain, but there’s no joy, either.”
“When did you get so damn smart?”
Gabe laughed. “I always was smart. It’s just that you’re finally listening to me.”
Oz snorted his disgust with Gabe’s comment. He pushed aside his work and stood up. Daisy immediately leaped to her feet and wagged her tail. Oz found one of her sticks and threw it as far as he could. Daisy dashed off. She turned her head when Oliver streaked past, but kept after the stick.
“We haven’t heard a word about those Gatlin sons-a-bitches,” said Oz.
They waited while Daisy raced back with her prize. She held it out tantalizingly at Oz, hoping he’d take one end. He gave in and they had a tug-of-war until Oz finally got it from the dog.
“When I was in town the other day,” said Oz before heaving the stick in another direction, “I heard Sophie say something about Miss Lily hiring the Pinkertons. What if we used some gold to see if they could find those Gatlin bastards?”
“You think the law would hang them just on our word?”
Oz threw the stick again. “Lily’s Judge Thatcher would know the answer to that. At least we’d find out where they were.”
Gabe relaxed in the new sense of power that came when he conquered his fear of losing control in a fight. “We could go after them. No one would know who we were.”
“If they’re nearby, we could put a word out to the Vigilantes.”
This time Daisy brought the stick to Gabe. He threw it far and then wiped dog slime on his pants.
“I guess we have to wait and see what happens when Sarah gets back tomorrow.”
Oz looked at the shadows now covering his work area. He gathered up his tools.
“Maybe Sarah misses us as much as we miss her,” said Gabe. “Luke will be getting her from town. They’ll have time to talk.”
“I guess all we can do is wait and see.”
“No, I think we’ll have what Gillis would call ‘a wee chat’ with our partner. If my fists didn’t do enough, maybe some of our words will get through that thick skull of his.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Why do you want Sarah in your life, and not some other woman?”
Luke continued to stir his Sunday morning oatmeal. Gabe and Oz had been after him since they got up and he was sick and tired of their jabbering at him.
“Think of her as a person, not a potential wife and mother,” continued Gabe. “What makes her special to you?”
“Special?”
Luke dumped a spoonful of brown sugar on the thick, lumpy mess. It would be hell to eat with his sore mouth, but he’d made the oatmeal, so he couldn’t complain. At least he didn’t burn it this time. If Sarah was here, it would be smooth and tasty. Maybe she’d put chunks of soft apple or peaches in it. Soon there’d be wild strawberries. He grimaced. If, that is, she wasn’t in town, baking for crowds of ugly, loud, dirty miners. What was special about the woman? Everything.
“Sarah’s the most irritating, frustrating woman I’ve ever met,” he said. “She makes it even harder to pay attention to what I’m doing because she’s always in my mind.”
“She wakes you up,” said Oz.
Gabe nodded. “He’s right. You’ve been in a funk since we headed West. You’ve been driving forward with only one thing on your mind.”
“Having a bunch of Frosties,” said Oz with disgust.
“Frosties?” Luke turned his sudden anger at Oz. “Are you referring to my children?”
“Or mine.” Oz pulled a knife from his boot and concentrated on trimming his fingernails. “Sarah could be carrying my baby right now, or Gabe’s.” He raised his eyes to Gabe. “You gonna marry her if her belly swells? ’Cause I sure ain’t.”
Gabe laughed. “You care enough about Sarah to marry her if she asked.”
Oz concentrated on his nails again. A flush tipped his ears.
“Whether she’s carrying your child or not, I will be the one to marry Sarah!”
Two sets of eyes turned to Luke.
“Why?” asked Gabe.
Luke scratched at his scratchy beard. He hadn’t shaved as he didn’t want to open the scrapes and cuts that his best friend had inflicted. A best friend who’d finally told him what a bastard he’d been all those years. That had taken him back a few pegs.
They all wanted Sarah, but why did he want the woman so much? Yes, he wanted her in the kitchen, sharing his bed, and children from her, but there was more. How could he say what he found so hard to understand?
“She’s got a way about her. I can’t say what it is, but she makes me feel…” He thought a minute. “She makes me think I can do anything.”
“Even climb a tree after her Oliver?”
Luke choked out a laugh. “No, but damn near anything else.” His partners looked at each other, and then stared at him, waiting. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“You tell us,” said Gabe.
“Sarah said she won’t marry me unless I can prove I won’t betray her.” Luke’s chest automatically tightened. “She thinks if I prove I’ve conquered my fear of heights, it means I’ll do anything to protect her. Only then will she be able to give over control of her life.”
“So, next time Oliver climbs a tree, you get him down,” said Oz.
“That’s easy for you to say. You weren’t thrown off a cliff!”
Oz set his jaw. He slipped his knife away. “No,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t scared out of my mind with fear one time.” His green eyes bored into Luke. “I had to live in terror, day and night, from before I even knew I was alive. At any moment my dear father, or my brothers, or their friends, would beat on me until I was damn near dead. I was afraid to go home, even though I was so hungry my belly and backbone rubbe
d against each other. Because I had the same hair as my mother and sisters, every day they told me I was just a pretty boy, not worth a tinker’s damn. So I learned to defend myself, and to fight. I still watch people for the slightest sign, to see when they’re going to attack.” He paused. “When, Luke. Not if.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Face your fear and start living,” continued Oz. “Because if you don’t, you’re going to make us lose Sarah. And she’s the best damn thing that ever happened to us.” He blinked rapidly. “Until the three of us bought the Circle C as partners, I never knew what it was like to feel proud. And now Sarah makes me feel whole. I don’t want to lose her.” He inhaled and cleared his throat. “It’s damn well time you started to act like a man.”
“But—”
“He’s right,” said Gabe. “You get Sarah from town after supper. Work things out with her. When we come back tonight, either you’re getting married, or I am.” Gabe straightened to his full height. For once he held his shoulders back and head high. “And where does that leave you?”
* * * *
Three hours later, Luke put the last set of nails on his anvil. He lined them up carefully. There was something satisfying about taking a piece of metal, all bent out of shape, and making it useful again. Sarah had bent him out of shape the moment he set eyes on her. Did he really need Gabe’s hammering to get straight?
Yeah, he did.
Born a few weeks earlier, Gabe had always been there. Gabe’s ma had been his wet nurse. His own mother had birthed him because it was her duty. Nothing in that unwritten contract said she ever had to touch him again.
But he could see Sarah in a rocking chair by the fire, a baby at her breast. She’d hold on to that child, loving it, and protect it with every bit of her being. And he’d stand near, ready to help do whatever a man did with a baby. He wasn’t sure what it was all about, but the MacDougals hung Ross’s tiny twins over their shoulder and rubbed their backs with hands almost larger than the babies. He didn’t know how such a mite could bring up a burp loud enough to startle a drunk.
The way things were going, the valley would be filled with children one day. Trace and Ben planned that all the ranches would work together. They’d already set up a system to share the work of the spring gather. As they worked, they’d figure out what demands they wanted Ben to bring to Helena and Virginia City. They’d be a community of their own. Their children would have lots of friends to learn from, and get in trouble with. They’d have scores of uncles and aunts to teach them, and keep them in line.
How could he make sure Sarah was part of that life?
Daisy suddenly lifted her head and looked toward the cabin. The dog was good company, lying in the shade out of the way. He remembered begging his father for a puppy when he was a young boy. He was coldly informed that animals were not allowed in the house. Not only did they serve no useful purpose, they created work for the servants. That was the end of it.
He liked it when Daisy came over and nudged him now and then, just to let him know she was there. Even Oliver used to come by for a rub before Daisy returned. Their fur was soft and warm. He found himself talking to the dog even more than his horse. The dog looked interested, even maybe understood, while the horse usually looked disgusted with him. The cat didn’t even pretend to listen. Luke snorted a laugh at himself. The way he’d acted the last few years, the cat and horse had it right.
Daisy pulled herself to her haunches. She stared intently at something by the cabin.
“Oh, oh.”
Trotting toward them was a black-and-white cat with its tail high in the air. It moved like it owned the whole damn ranch. Sarah once said with disgust that he acted like that. So did Oliver, she added, but that was okay since it came naturally to a cat.
Daisy liked to chase cats.
Oliver, unaware of Daisy’s presence, continued on. Daisy woofed. Oliver stopped and stared, one paw still in the air. Daisy got to her feet. Oliver puffed up like a porcupine. Daisy yelped. Oliver turned and took off. Uphill, toward the trees. Daisy followed, barking up a storm.
“Daisy! Get back here!”
The dog was gaining on the cat. Luke swore. He strained his eyes to see where the damn cat was aiming at. There was a stand of younger trees to one side, but to the right were much bigger—
“God, no!”
The damn cat might not be able to get down, but could he climb! Ten feet, fifteen…Luke’s stomach did a flip. Daisy leaped at the trunk, barking like she’d treed a mountain lion.
His mind raced so fast he couldn’t think of anything. Moving slowly, he took off his leather apron. He hung it on the nail in the shed. He put away his tools. He went to his knees to make sure he picked up every nail. If Sarah or one of the boys walked through in bare feet, he didn’t want an injury that could turn septic and kill them.
When everything was done that needed doing, he straightened his shoulders and climbed the hill behind the cabin. Slow, steady steps, one in front of the other.
Daisy wagged her tail at him, smile wide as if she’d done a good job. He looked at the tree. A tall pine with enough branches to make it easy for a cat to climb high. Lots of branches, but they were small. They could easily bear a twenty-pound cat, but he weighed about ten times more. He’d just have to hold tight and pray. He told the dog to shush and walked around the tree, craning his neck to see Oliver.
He spotted a white flash high in the tree. He gulped. His stomach clenched, but he hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, and little the night before. Nothing would come up, it would just make him queasy as hell.
“What do you think, Daisy, am I a man, or a worm?”
Daisy, wanting attention, nosed his hand. He couldn’t blame the dog for doing this. When a cat, or other small creature, turned tail and ran, the predator followed. Oliver did the same thing with mice, rats, squirrels, and anything else he could catch to feed himself.
Sarah, on the other hand, stood up and fought back. He could do no less.
First he had to tie Daisy up, far away. Second, he had to find his backbone, even if he had to pull it up through his ass. Then he’d prove he was the man he believed himself to be.
Whether Sarah would marry him or not no longer mattered. This was something he did for himself. He closed his eyes, and the scene that filled his nightmares appeared. He was young enough to still be in short pants. He stood at the edge of a cliff facing the three Gatlin boys. He had a choice: he could stay there and be beaten by the older and bigger boys, or he could jump.
It was his fault he was in the situation. He’d snuck away from Gabe because he wanted to show off to the taunting neighbors. As an adult looking back, he knew they’d purposely said things to make him want to prove himself. His father had made it known that Luke was his only hope of carrying on the family. Everyone knew that the Gatlins hated the Frosts and wanted to destroy them. Killing Luke would kill the Frost family.
Everyone also knew how dangerous the river currents were below the cliff. It was the same place that, years later, the woman Gabe planned to marry committed suicide. She was fifteen by then, married to a brute with no way out except death. At the time, Gabe was in jail for protecting her from her husband’s fists, fighting his own battles. Luke still didn’t know exactly what happened to him there, but Gabe had never been the same after he was released.
Until Sarah came into their lives.
Whatever happened between Gabe and Sarah, Gabe was better for it. It seemed Oz had recently conquered some demons as well. It was his turn.
“Come on, Daisy. Back to the cabin with you.”
Daisy looked at Luke, then the tree, and barked. She was not going to leave her prize without a reward.
“Let’s go get your stick.”
Daisy took off downhill, ears flopping. Luke followed, fighting to breathe.
Twenty minutes later he was in the tree. Climbing was easy. All he had to do was look up and place his hands and feet on the thicker branches. He was
still sore from his scuffle with Gabe, but it was good to stretch out.
“Here, kitty,” he said in a singsong voice like Sarah used to cajole the beast. “Time to get down. Sarah’s coming home tonight and she’ll want to cuddle you.” Oliver hissed and climbed another few feet. Luke knocked his forehead against the trunk. “I’m not fond of cats, especially ones who try to unman me with their claws. But you’re important to Sarah,” he said to the black-and-white shape too far above him. “So you’re important to me.”
He made sure his feet were set and his left hand had a good grip before he released his right and reached for a higher branch.
“I don’t know what it is about that woman, but my heart hurts when she’s upset.”
If he kept talking, it meant he didn’t have to think about what to do once he got hold of the cat.
“I bet if I just left you here, you’d be on the ground before I bring Sarah home from town. But I am not afraid of climbing this tree.”
No, he wasn’t afraid of climbing. It was the coming down he had a problem with. If he needed both hands and feet to climb up, how the hell could he get down with a spitting, clawing, twenty-pound beast from hell in his arms?
An eagle’s cry startled him, and he looked down.
“Oh, shit!”
Way, way, below, the rocky ground waited to smash his body. At least last time he’d landed in water. He closed his eyes and said a prayer. Not for him, but for Sarah, his partners, and their children. He couldn’t put it into words, but figured God would know what he meant. He set his jaw and started climbing again.
A scrabbling sound erupted above him. What else was in the tree? He tightened his hold on the branches and set his feet. He looked up. Small bits of bark trickled down the trunk as the scratching sound came nearer.
A distinctive black-and-white shape approached on the far side of the trunk. Oliver, backing down the tree as if he did it every day. The cat didn’t even glance at him as he went past!
