A resigned sigh escaped his lips. “The only way to heal from the loss of love is to replace it with new love. You’re wrong when you say I don’t love you—I do, and in time, I believe you would come to love me.” He paused expectantly but, when she did not respond, pursed his lips and inhaled a long, deep breath.
“I can see the pleasure of having you for a wife will not fall to me. There is restlessness in your eyes. A wanderlust. Are you not content in our little community?”
She shook her head, her gaze drifting above the streets and buildings to the horizons beyond.
“No. There isn’t anything left for me here. I want to flee this place and leave the heartache and bad memories behind.”
“Where will you go? When will you leave?”
She did not miss the defeated expression on his face.
Suzanna shrugged. “I’m not sure. Not right away, but perhaps…soon…to a place far off, somewhere I can be useful, somewhere not so scarred from the ravages of war. I have a yen to see the wide open prairies of the west. I’ve heard doctors are few and opportunities for healers abound out there. People would need my knowledge and experience.”
“People have need of your knowledge and experience here,” he argued.
“Yes, I know. But, I want to go somewhere less steeped in the aftermath of north versus south. St. Louis? Denver? San Francisco? I’m not sure. I have some savings, and this house my parents left me. If I sell it, I should have enough resources to start over in a new town. Perhaps I’ll teach. I want to recapture a sense of joy in my life, and the laughter of children would be a good place to start, don’t you think?”
“What I think is that I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose you. You’re a part of this community, this town. Please. It won’t be safe. The west is uncivilized and dangerous. Won’t you reconsider?”
“Dangerous and uncivilized, more so than the brutality we’ve witnessed right here at home? Don’t worry. I’m not going to disappear into the sunset just yet. I have to make plans, explore the possibilities.”
Julian’s shoulders drooped as he shook his head. “So your answer is final. I’ve lost. Take my word for it, Suzanna, some fortunate man will sweep you off your feet before you know it, and you’ll be finding joy in holding a babe in your arms. You may not be ready to hear it, but you’re a woman made for love. You’ve experienced it once; you will again.”
She bumped her shoulder against his, smiled, and loudly whispered, “As my mother used to say, ‘From your lips to the ears of God.’ ”
“Your mother was a wise woman, Suzanna.” He sighed and stood, taking his hat in his hand and rolling the brim.
“All is not lost, Julian,” she teased, as she stood beside him. “Missy Yarbrough has had designs on you since she put on her first long dress.” Suzanna giggled softly as blood flooded his cheeks. “The girl would never forgive me if I stole you from her. She’s the perfect partner for you, Julian, and I know you have feelings for her, deep in your heart. I’ve watched the two of you dance round each other every day for years. What you feel for me is sincere, I am sure, and I am grateful for it. But you also feel a sense of responsibility toward me, and you shouldn’t. I’ve been on my own for some time. I can take care of myself.”
“You’re sure? A friend is all I shall ever be to you, Suzanna?”
She nodded, with a smile into his earnest face. “Be honest. You don’t love me. Not really. The truth of it is that you like me. A great deal, I am sure. We were thrown together in unprecedented circumstances, and you feel sorry for all I’ve suffered. Thank you for caring, Julian, but it is not love. Not the kind to base a lifetime on. If we agreed to marry, we would soon tire of the pretense and resign ourselves to living a life of companionship and duty. You deserve more, and I want more. More for myself and for you. If true love ever does come to me again and offers a second chance, I want to be free to experience it. And you should feel the same way.”
He pursed his lips. “I disagree, but I accept your decision. I would be the luckiest of men to have you for a wife, and I would never, ever regret having you for my own. Someday, in the not too distant future, you’ll marry another. You are too lovely a woman, and far too desirable to remain unattached. I cannot begrudge your desire to marry for love. If anyone deserves that sort of happiness, it’s you. You will continue to work with me for the good of the community? I fear I could not do without you.”
“Of course. But I must confess, the stench of war has filled my nostrils for far too long, and I feel a compelling desire to escape it. Medicine requires complete dedication. My inclination is to distance myself from its demands.”
“That would indeed be a shame, but I don’t blame you.” Turning to leave, he stopped and gazed back at her. “You are certain? About us, I mean. This is your answer, then? There is no hope?”
“As soon as you leave my porch, you are going to feel so relieved my answer is no. Admit it, Julian. You and Missy are far better suited than you and I would ever be. I’m not sure what I want out of life from this point forward, but I’ll never forget what you and I shared. You will always be a dear, dear friend.”
“Friendship it is, then.”
Clapping his hat on his head, Julian kissed her cheek. “If you should change your mind, or if you ever need me, you know where to find me. Good day, Suzanna. The man who finally captures your heart will be most fortunate. I envy him.”
She watched him go, blinking away tears of sadness and regret and praying she’d done the right thing. Julian was a fine man, but she didn’t love him. Yes, she wanted a husband. Yes, she wanted to share her life with a man who loved her, and yes, above all things she wanted—no, hungered—to fill her days with children of her own. But not with just any man, not even as good a man as Julian Hilliard.
After all the heartbreak and cruelty of the war years, what she yearned for most was true love, passionate love. Anything else would only be half a life. She must be brave and not settle; she must search for it until she found it; and when she did, she would grab it and hold on tight.
She’d given everything she had for everyone else, for as long as she could.
Now it was her turn.
Chapter Two
“Nathan, you are a true southern hero,” Suzanna remarked to the man who sat beside his pregnant wife’s bedside. His gaze never left his wife’s face, and his bone-crushing grip held her smaller hand in his.
“I know of no other men who have been so accommodating of their wives’ confinements. I must say, I am very impressed.”
“Annie deserves the support of her husband and father of her child. I could do no less for her and the baby,” he replied, his concerned gaze intent on the face of his suffering wife.
Suzanna’s friend huffed, speaking as soon as she was able between labored breaths. “You are both angels sent from heaven as far as I am concerned. I could not do this…without…either of you…Oh…!”
“Breathe, Annie, breathe!” Suzanna urged. “You’re almost there. Nathan, if you please, leave the room. We are about to deliver your firstborn child, and I need to concentrate on Annie. If you faint, I will leave you on the floor. I swear it.”
“I want to stay,” he argued, his brow furrowed with worry, his lips a thin white line.
“Nathan,” Annie ground out from between clenched teeth. “For the love of God, get out…now!”
Taking two steps back, one step forward, poor Nathan didn’t know if he should go or stay. With a hurried glance at both women, Nathan gently kissed his wife’s forehead and exited the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
Making his way to the sideboard in the dining room, he opened the bottom drawer. A bottle of fine Kentucky bourbon awaited him—kept for special occasions and medicinal purposes. Welcoming his first child into the world should certainly qualify as a special occasion. And he greatly needed the medicine.
He raised the glass to his lips, only to spill the majority of the amber liquid down his waist
coat. It seemed only yesterday he’d married Annie. A dream. Not that he was sorry. He loved his wife. Loved her, desired her, and was grateful she belonged to him. No one would ever find out—least of all Annie—that she wasn’t his first choice.
But Suzanna, the soft beauty with chestnut hair and emerald eyes… Would he ever escape his longing for her? Pouring another generous portion of the bourbon, he downed it and poured again.
Ironic. The woman he loved first, but couldn’t win, was helping the woman he’d chosen by default, helping her give birth to their first child. The twists and turns of life confounded him at times. Who on earth could orchestrate such a situation?
Suzanna would never belong to him, but if it was the last thing he did, he’d make sure things turned out right for her. God, but she didn’t deserve what life had thrown her way these last years. The death of her parents. Her fiancé.
Thankfully, she’d never had an inkling of his true feelings. Not that he’d ever stood a chance. Jason, their childhood chum, and fourth of the circle of friends, had proved to be the better man—the love of her life. They fell in love and became engaged before Jason left to fight for the Confederacy.
His gut twisted when he thought of the pain Suzanna had suffered when fate intervened and Jason was killed. By that time, Nathan was already married to Annie. Too late to claim Suzanna, he focused on being an exemplary husband while keeping a devoted eye of friendship on her. No, he would not dishonor his wife by allowing the gnawing desire for her best friend to defile their relationship. But…
One long scream erupted from the bedchamber, followed by a tiny, staccato wail. He lowered his shaking glass to the top of the sideboard, heard it miss its mark and fall to the ground. He barely noticed the amber stain soaking into the carpet. She’d done it. Annie had done it—brought his firstborn into the world. His heart swelled with love for her.
But what of Suzanna?
What she needed was another chance at love. Someone to take Jason’s place. Someone to take care of her for a change, after so many long, lonely years devoted to others. She’d turned down the marriage proposal of the town doctor, thank God—that was weeks ago. They weren’t right for each other anyway. Julian Hilliard was a wonderful physician but a boring man. Suzanna deserved more.
No. She needed a larger-than-life, swashbuckling man to sweep her off her feet, romance her, put the sparkle back in her eyes. The kind of man who would warm her numbed heart and make her feel like a woman again. A man to bring her back to life after Jason’s death and the tragedies of the past.
An idea took root in the back of his brain. He just might be acquainted with a man like that—a man who possessed those qualities. Handsome and virile, who could offer her everything she desired. An exceptional man who, at this very moment, by his own admission, was looking for a wife. A smile slowly coursed over Nathan’s face. He needed to send a telegram.
But for now, he had his family to attend to.
“Annie?” His voiced wavered. Overcome, he leaned his head on his fist against the cool wood door frame of their bedroom. “Annie?” he called as he half-laughed, half-cried with joy and relief. Suzanna swung open the door, and Nathan all but fell into the birthing chamber.
“You may see your wife and son now, Nathan,” Suzanna told him softly but with a huge grin.
Nathan brushed by her, ran into the room, and slid to a dead stop at the foot of the bed. In his beautiful Annie’s arms lay a red and wriggling, monkey-faced baby boy. He was both the ugliest and the handsomest baby he’d ever seen.
He turned to Suzanna and mouthed the words, “Thank you,” before falling to his knees at the side of the bed, in awe of the beautiful sight before him.
Putting his finger near the tiny hand, he felt the first firm grasp of his son. His heart swelled in his chest, and he lowered his mouth to touch the lips of his wife.
“You did a fine job, Annie. A fine job, sweetheart,” he whispered, overwhelmed with love and the emotion of the event.
He glanced at Suzanna, standing close, gazing at the tableau with affection and envy etching her beautiful face. “Thank you,” he said, as he sniffed back tears. “For everything.”
As she nodded, a fierce determination formed in Nathan’s heart. He couldn’t have her; he was married and in love with his wife. Jason was dead, and the doctor didn’t appeal to her, but perhaps all was not lost.
Suzanna deserved a chance for love. A chance for a family. Someone to protect her and care for her, and share the joys and sorrows of life with her. A slow grin crept over his face. The person he had in mind was man enough to make Suzanna fall in love with him, and he was different from anyone she’d ever known.
A bit of a scoundrel, at times a roué, but with a heart the size of all Wyoming.
****
The worst of the winter over, Jake Cantrell hitched a team to the ranch wagon, pushed his Stetson low on his brow, and set out to brave the elements. He needed supplies and some staples for the kitchen.
Martha, his housekeeper, had promised him a dried apple pie, and if there was anything Jake liked to top off a good meal, it was dried apple pie. She was a talented cook, and his mouth watered just thinking about what his housekeeper could do with those apples.
While she cared for his home and the cooking, her son, Pete, was the best foreman he’d ever had, and a good friend, to boot. But a cook and a hired hand weren’t enough, even if they were almost as close as family. He wanted something more; he needed something more.
Laramie City was an hour from the ranch, and by the time he hit town, his fingers were numb from the cold of an early spring. The landscape between the ranch and town was overgrown with evergreens and recently covered with a fine dusting of snow—cold, white, and lonely. Just like him. He was damn sick of the lonely part. The time had come to rectify that particular situation.
The life of a bachelor was no life for him—not any more. He wanted a wife to warm his bed and satisfy his manly needs, and he wanted sons to inherit the fruits of his labor. Truth be told, he wanted a family and a life like his brother.
Nathan and Annie were in love—from his experience, a rare commodity—and Jake was secure enough in his manhood to admit he’d like the same thing. Besides, it was time to settle down. He’d worked hard, built his fortune, and earned the right to the love of a good woman.
At thirty-four years old, he wasn’t getting any younger. All he had to do was find the right woman. There weren’t any viable prospects in Laramie City, unless he wanted a Friday-night girl. So he’d wired his brother Nathan and asked him to look around among the available ladies in Alabama. Surely there was a suitable widow among the many women left destitute by the war, or a maiden with limited prospects. It wouldn’t be a love match, and he wouldn’t be too picky.
Damnation! Who was he kidding? His particular list of requirements was picky, and Nathan had told him so when he put on paper the type of woman he might be interested in. Pretty, malleable, educated, a hard worker, good with children, and the list went on and on.
Nathan found it funny; he did not. The brother who’d never found it hard to attract a woman calling on the brother who’d hobbled himself to a sweetheart at a young age. Ironic he had now been persuaded to aid him in matrimonial affairs. Nate would get a kick out of that for years to come.
Jake pulled up to Johnson’s Mercantile and Feed, set the brake, tied off the leads, and jumped off the wagon onto the board walk. As he was about to enter the warmth of the building, a small figure called his name and scurried from the direction of the Rail and Telegraph Office.
“Oh, Mr. Cantrell! Mr. Cantrell! I’m glad you came into town. I was just about to send a rider out your way to deliver this. It’s a wire from your brother in Alabama.”
Jake cut an exasperated glance at the nosy telegraph operator and barked, “You read it? You want to save me some time and just tell me what it says?”
Warren Peabody pursed his lips defensively and sniffed. “I have to read ’em,
Jake. I take ’em down. But I don’t tell nobody what they say.”
Jake let loose an exasperated growl, grabbed the yellow piece of paper, and read the telegram for himself. Taking a coin out of his jacket, he handed it to the agent. As he read, his brows lifted and a grin drifted to one side of his mouth.
“Peabody, wire my brother and tell him I’ll catch a train at the end of the week. Should be in Alabama by Friday next. Got that?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Cantrell. Friday next.” The man nodded three times and scurried away.
Jake glanced again at the perfunctory words Peabody had scribbled from the wire.
“Brother. Stop. Come to Alabama. Stop. I’ve found you a wife. Stop.”
Damn! Why did he have to go fetch her? Couldn’t Nathan just arrange for the marriage by proxy and send her to him? It wasn’t a good time of year to leave the ranch. They needed to make preparations for spring roundup and the planting season. Nathan was well aware of the burdens a rancher faced this time of year. On the other hand, if Nate wanted him to make the journey all the way down south to pick up his bride, there must be a good reason.
The message had been clear. Come get her. It would have to be a quick trip, but he’d make the necessary arrangements and be on his way in two days’ time. Pete could handle the ranch for a few weeks. He couldn’t spare more time. If Nathan or the lady had a problem with that, so be it. He had too much riding on next year’s herds to delay. If his presence could speed up the process, the trip might be the best thing.
Jake rubbed his gloved hands together in anticipation and grinned. A wife! A woman in his bed every night to warm his blood. The thought made his manly parts stir. Not that he was a monk, but the shortage of acceptable partners had severely limited his pleasures. Now that his mind was made up, he found himself anxious to marry. But an irritating voice of caution nagged in the hidden recesses of his mind.
What if it didn’t work? What if he married and discovered he didn’t care for the woman? What if they wound up hating each other?
A Necessary Woman Page 2
