“It’s over, darlin’,” he whispered for her ears only. “Nigel Blackwood will never threaten you again.” He rubbed Rachel’s ebony hair. “Either of you.”
“When I heard the shots,” Laura choked on the words, “I was so frightened.”
“I told you we’d be all right. You should learn to trust me about such things.”
“Oh, I do, Nathan, I do.” She leaned back in his arms to smile up at him. “I waited right where you told me to, didn’t I?”
Nathan laughed. “This time you certainly did.”
* * * * *
They stopped at the Circle B long enough to pick up William, who was the only member of the family to sleep through the early morning’s events.
“He is a very good baby, ja?” Inga said as she handed him up to Laura, still seated on her mare.
“Yes, he is. I’m sure he’ll be hungry soon.” She clutched her son to her chest and grasped the tall blonde woman’s hand. Another fresh round of tears threatened to overtake her. “Thank you so much for taking care of him. When I left, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see…”
She couldn’t finish as she swallowed hard to gain control of her emotions.
“Ja. You take him home and feed him. You be good as new.”
Through her tears, Laura smiled at the woman’s singsong accent and smiling face. She turned her attention to the men.
“Thanks for taking care of my family, Dave.” Nathan held Rachel in his lap with one hand and shook the old rancher’s hand with the other.
“I wish I could’ve kept him from ever getting his hands on them in the first place.”
“You couldn’t stop me from going, David,” Laura hurried to reassure him. “Please don’t worry about it.”
After a few minutes more, they, Micah and Frank’s family headed toward town. To avoid any crowds or curious gossips, Nathan, Laura and Micah circled around back of the town in a direct line to the farm. As they rode up the path to the house, fresh tears tickled Laura’s eyes. At the porch, Micah took Rachel from Nathan and carried her inside. Laura handed Nathan the baby and slowly slid off her horse.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he asked when she stood beside him.
“I don’t know. I can’t seem to stop crying.” She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “It just seems ages since I’ve been home.”
He took her hand in his. “You aren’t ever leaving it again, are you?”
The hesitancy in his voice shook her. Was he asking her what she thought he was—to give up her plans for leaving? She swallowed hard. “Do you want me to stay?”
“You might as well,” he answered nonchalantly. Then he gave her a very seductive smile. “Because no matter where you go, I’ll just have to follow you and bring you back home.”
She laughed and hugged him tight. Suddenly she no longer felt like crying.
* * * * *
After Laura washed up and went to feed William upstairs in the bedroom, Nathan was given the task of washing mine dirt off Rachel in the washtub near the kitchen fireplace.
“You want to tell me the other reason you came off your mountain before the spring thaw?” he asked Micah, who sat in the oak rocker working on a pair of moccasins for Rachel.
“I’ve had two dreams.”
Nathan paused with the washcloth beneath the warm water. “Two dreams?” Usually Micah only had one dream at a time.
“One was about Patrice. Something’s happened to her.”
“Do you know what?” Nathan remembered Micah’s younger sister. She’d been a sweet young girl of about fifteen when they’d left her with Micah’s stepmother back on the family plantation in Georgia and headed out west.
Micah shook his head. “She’s in trouble and a great deal of pain.”
“What was the other dream about?” Nathan lathered some of Laura’s rose-scented soap onto the washcloth and gently scrubbed Rachel’s face and neck.
“It was a woman I’d never seen before. She had long, reddish-brown hair, nearly the color of Laura’s sorrel mare, and she stood in this sea of white gauzy material.”
“Gauzy material?” Nathan grinned at his friend.
Micah shrugged. “I’d thought it might be your mail-order bride, but once I got down to the cabin, I knew Laura wasn’t the woman in the dream.”
“So you don’t have any idea who she might be?”
“When I came off the mountain, I didn’t.”
Nathan finished washing Rachel and fought the urge to growl at his friend. Sometimes getting information from Micah was worse than having a bad tooth pulled.
“But you do know who she is now, don’t you?”
Both men looked up to see Laura standing in the doorway.
“Yes ma’am. It’s your friend. I realized it when I read her letter to you.”
Laura seated herself in the other chair. “Claudia’s in trouble, isn’t she?”
“My dreams usually reveal someone I’m close to is in danger, like Patrice. I’ve never had a dream about someone I didn’t know and although I’ve seen her in the dream, I really can’t tell anything else about her…” His voice trailed off and he focused on the leather in his hands.
“Except?” Laura leaned closer. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Micah looked at her. “Except she’s really mad at someone.”
“Someone?” Nathan took Rachel out of the tub, dried her off and pulled her clean dress over her head.
Micah actually blushed. “I got the distinct feeling she’s angry with me.”
Nathan laughed.
“Papa?”
“It’s okay, Rachel.”
He stopped and stared at his daughter, stunned. She’d spoken! Then he looked at his wife, the woman who’d brought this miracle about. “She spoke.”
Laura, in tears again, nodded at him. “She called me mama in the mine.” She told them how Rachel had woken her by calling her name.
He looked at his daughter once more in amazement, then hugged her close. “That’s right, little darlin’. I’m your papa.”
“Papa.” Rachel smiled at him, then held up the cloth doll Laura had made for her birthday. “My baby.”
She pushed against him until he released her, then ambled over to Laura and patted her leg. “Mama.” Then the moccasins Micah had stitched together caught her attention. “Unca Micah.”
“Looks like now that she’s figured out how to talk, she’s decided she’s got lots to say,” Micah said as he lifted her into his lap and they all laughed.
Chapter Twenty
After a snowy and peaceful holiday season, the weather broke long enough for the family to venture to church for the first time since the threat of Nigel Blackwood had been put to rest. The only disquiet in their lives was Micah’s departure that morning to his family home in Georgia.
“I don’t see why you have to leave so soon,” Laura had said the night before when Micah packed his belongings for the trip east.
“I’ve put it off long enough, Laura. Things are coming to a head back there, and if I don’t go now, I may not be able to help my sister or your friend.”
She laid her hand on his arm, stilling his movements. “You’ve had another dream, haven’t you?”
He fixed her with his steely gray eyes and for the first time since she’d met him, she read his fear and pain swirling in their cool depths.
Nathan pulled her into his arms. “Darlin’, it’s best to let Micah keep his dreams private. If he needs to head out, then we can’t stand in his way.”
She’d nodded and clung to her husband’s strong body. Her friends were in danger and Micah’s sister was missing. It was selfish of her to want to keep their friend safe with them.
This morning she’d gotten up early and penned a letter for Claudia, introducing Micah and asking her friend to let him take over the investigation into Blackwood’s associates back in Washington. When she’d handed it to him, Micah hadn’t been surprised by her actions and even
seemed to be expecting the letter. She wondered if he knew more about the future than he admitted.
Standing on the porch, she and Nathan watched as he rode away from the farm into the pink light of dawn. Then her husband had taken her back to their bed and made long, sweet love to her, dispelling any of her worries over their friends and delaying their planned trip to church.
As Nathan pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the snow-covered churchyard, Laura anxiously looked at the numerous wagons parked around the building.
“Nathan, I don’t know what possessed you to be so slow today,” she fussed as he took William from her arms and assisted her from the wagon. “Just look at all the people here. I don’t think we’ll be able to find a seat.”
“Calm yourself, Laura.” He handed her their son, grasped her elbow with one hand and Rachel’s hand with the other then walked them all to the church door. “I guarantee we’ll have a spot in this service.”
She gave him a disgruntled look. Men. They always seemed to think they knew everything, her husband especially. Well, she hadn’t wanted to get here late. She’d wanted to be early in order to show her son and daughter off to their friends. Since Rachel had begun talking, she’d become more and more outgoing and confident. Laura knew the change in her would amaze everyone. Now they were the last to arrive.
Nathan opened the door and ushered them all inside. The sanctuary doors were closed to help keep out the cold. They stood in the anteroom and he helped Rachel with her coat. Then, taking the baby from Laura, he held him while Laura removed her coat and hung it on a peg. Finally he opened the double doors to reveal a packed room.
“Oh my,” Laura gasped at the church’s appearance.
Dried flower arrangements decorated every pew and window. Lighted candles glowed along the walls and the altar. Everyone turned to look as Sarah and Lola approached. Nathan handed William to the now-retired saloon girl, who took Rachel’s hand and led her to the front pew.
Nathan turned and took Laura’s hand in his.
“What’s going on?” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“Laura,” he smiled at her. “One year ago, you exchanged vows with a stand-in husband and began a perilous journey to live in all good faith with me as my wife. I was unable to attend that ceremony, and because of my arrogant pride, didn’t repeat it the moment you arrived.”
“But Nathan—”
Placing his finger against her lips, he stilled her protest. “Since then you’ve professed your love and trust in me and showered my daughter with love. You’ve given me the gift of a second child to love. I think the Lord every day for sending you to me as my wife.”
She blinked hard as tears filled her eyes.
“Because of you,” he continued, “I’ve learned to live again, to trust again and most importantly to love again. I love you more than I could ever put into words. And if you would agree to marry me, I promise to make you feel loved and protected all the days of my life.”
Tears ran unheeded down her face, but she smiled through them at her husband. “I’m already married to you, but I’d be happy to repeat those vows with you. You see, the first time I said them in desperation. You were to be my refuge. This time I’ll be repeating them with all the love in my heart.”
A resounding cheer burst from the crowd of townspeople gathered to see the ceremony as Nathan kissed her. Sarah hugged her then handed her a bouquet of dried mountain flowers. She walked in front of them to stand across the aisle from Tom, who’d been asked to serve as best man. While Frank played the Wedding March on his fiddle, Nathan led Laura to the altar where the pastor awaited them.
They exchanged the time-honored vows to love, protect, cherish and trust each other. Then Nathan removed the old, thin band Neil had placed on her finger one year earlier, replacing it with a gold band holding three diamonds in it.
“One diamond is for my love,” Nathan explained as he held it in place on her finger and stared into her eyes. “One is for Rachel’s and one is for William’s. You’ll always have our family’s love on your hand.”
She’d finally found what she’d been searching for. With Nathan she was home.
The End
Author’s Note
In the history of the United States there have been four presidential assassinations. On July 2, 1881, James A. Garfield was the second of these. The description in Cantrell’s Bride is an accurate account of his shooting in the train station at the Washington train depot.
The lone gunman, Charles Guiteau, a failed lawyer and businessman, believed he was owed a diplomatic post in return for a pamphlet he wrote, printed and distributed in support of Garfield, without Garfield or his campaign’s knowledge. He also believed a little known and barely attended speech he gave helped turn the tide of the election in Garfield’s favor. After Garfield’s election, Guiteau became increasingly paranoid and began stalking the president, until Secretary of State Blaine banned him from the White House. Finally, Guiteau purchased a revolver, followed Garfield to the train station and shot him twice, once in the shoulder and once in the abdomen.
Two different doctors treated Garfield on the spot. Then he was transported to the White House and finally transferred by train to New Jersey for further treatment. Numerous doctors probed his wound without sterile techniques, such as thorough hand-washing, that would become common in the early twentieth century. Lingering for eighty days, he suffered painfully under the massive infection that developed, and slowly wasted away until his death on September 19, 1881.
The assassination is the background for a murder-conspiracy plot in this book. It is completely my own fictional device and is not a part of the actual event.
About the Author
Award-winning author Suzanne Ferrell often daydreamed of faraway places, dangerous situations and strong, sexy men. When she picked up her pen to write her first novel, little did she know how powerful those dreams could be.
A lover of Westerns from a young age, Suzanne creates heroes who stand tall in the saddle in the face of danger, living and loving by their own code of honor. Lucky are the women who find themselves at the center of their passions
Born and raised in the Midwest, it took Suzanne a few years to get to Texas, the land of her favorite heroes. Now that she’s here it feels like home to her, her husband and her mixed-breed dog, Rocky.
Suzanne welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think
We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email the author directly or you can email us at [email protected] (when contacting Comments, be sure to state the book title and author).
Also by Suzanne Ferrell
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Print Books by Suzanne Ferrell
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Cantrell’s Bride
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Cantrell’s Bride Copyright © 2012 Suzanne Ferrell
Edited by Jillian Bell
Cover art by Dar Albert
Photos: Mike Norton, Sandra Kemppainen and Sad/Shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication August 2012
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