Maybelle mooed in agreement causing everyone to crack up laughing. Hunter shook his head. If only it was that easy.
Linc’s blood ran glacier cold as he’d watched Viola’s beau practice shooting his revolver. It did every time he saw the fluid motion of him drawing and the swift fire the gun belched forth. It seemed almost inhuman how quick the man could draw and shoot.
Nothing would deter Linc though. If anything, he now understood he needed to save Viola from this man she’d allowed to lure her in. Only a man who entertained with the devil himself could shoot like he did. Linc knew all about the power evil gave a person.
He lay on his back where he’d frozen as the interloper’s keen eyes penetrated right into his heart. He realized the man hadn’t seen him, but it was obvious by the way he’d stared seemingly into Linc’s eyes that he sensed Linc there. He had been so close to running, leaving his cover like a scared rabbit, but his pa had made him stronger than that. So he’d stayed still until they’d taken off into the barn.
Linc peered at the cozy homestead tucked against the mountain and sneered. He was done hiding in bushes, waiting for an opening. His brothers weren’t being any help. Robert flat out refused to help anymore, saying it was a fool’s errand, and he wanted to quit the area. But he hadn’t left yet, which meant Linc couldn’t wait any longer.
If Robert was around when this all went down, he’d help. “Family stuck together, no matter what,” Pa always beat into them. Linc had a plan, and it was high time he followed through with it.
Chapter 17
Viola watched Hunter where he stood just outside of the cabin door a step off the porch. He hadn’t lit the lantern, so she only saw his silhouette against the dark sky as the sun was just lightening with day. He’d amazed her the day before, not hesitating to help with Maybelle. The only sign of his discomfort had been a slight raise of his eyebrows when Beatrice had commanded him to roll up his sleeves. How was it that he constantly rose to the need? He attributed it to his training, but she wondered if it was more his character. She figured he’d be the same amazing and focused man with or without the Army.
She walked up and stood beside him. She breathed in the calm of morning, the smell of dew on the meadow grass. The sparrows sang a wake-up song in the trees. She breathed out, her breath dancing with the light breeze that blew strands of her hair in her face.
Hunter’s hand came up and gently placed her blowing hair behind her ear where he left his hand to cradle her neck. She stared up into his face, which could just now be seen in the morning light. His expression held such tenderness and longing, she wondered if anyone had ever looked at her like that before.
“Viola,” he whispered as he leaned down and captured her lips. The kiss was much more tender than the one they’d shared before that had blazed through her with a passion she never knew existed. Yet this one changed her at the core just as much, revealing that the affection he held for her rivaled his desire. He angled his head and deepened the kiss, driving all question of who she belonged with out of her mind.
A voice boomed from the field, ripping Viola from pure bliss. “What in tarnation is going on here?”
Hunter moved quickly. In one motion he pulled Viola behind him, anchoring her to his back with his arm, while he drew the Colt Navy from his holster, cocking, and pointing it at the chest of the bear of a man standing before him.
“Another one of your admirers, Viola?” Hunter asked sarcastically.
Viola grabbed onto Hunter’s shirt, her face pressed into his back in mortification. How was it that every time Hunter kissed her, they ended up caught in the act? And this time by Uncle Dan, no less?
“Viola Grace Thomas, you come out from behind this man and explain yourself,” Uncle Dan bellowed, causing Hunter’s muscles to tighten. “And for the love of all that’s holy, you’d best lower your weapon, son.”
Viola started to go around Hunter, but he tightened his arm, holding her in place. She huffed and pushed on it without luck. It held tighter than a steel trap snapped around its prey.
“You’d better explain why you’re sneaking up on people,” Hunter said, his voice cold and hard like it had been when the Sweeneys had stopped by. “Seems to be a quick way to get oneself knocking on the pearly gates, if you ask me.”
Viola pushed harder on Hunter’s arm as she said, “Hunter, it’s all right. This here is Trapper Dan, our uncle of sorts.”
Viola came around Hunter as he lowered and uncocked the Colt, though he didn’t holster it. She placed her hand on his arm and glanced up at him in encouragement. She peeked at Uncle Dan and inwardly cringed at how furious he appeared. Viola had never seen the easy-going man of God vexed before.
Hoping to clear the air and brush over the embarrassing situation, Viola smiled and said, “Hello, Uncle Dan.”
“This man your husband?” Uncle Dan asked.
“No, sir,” Viola said, clearing her throat before continuing. “He’s a friend that’s gotten injured, and we’re patching him up.”
“Doesn’t seem so injured to me.” Uncle Dan eyed Hunter up and down before looking back at her. “I’ve been hearing rumors about you I knew couldn’t be true. Heard them all the way up in Wyoming where Jack found me.”
“Rumors?” Viola asked, dread and shock coursing through her. “What are you talking about?”
“That you’re playing house with some stranger, acting like you belong in a brothel rather than the good Christian woman I know you are,” Uncle Dan said, sadness and disbelief lacing his tone.
“Just you wait a minute,” Hunter spoke icily, placing himself in front of her. “I don’t know who you are, mister, but you will speak respectfully when you talk to Viola. She’s done nothing to warrant such a statement, and family or not, I’ll not allow you to continue to talk about her that way.”
At that moment, Beatrice came running out of the cabin, joy stretched across her face at the sight of Uncle Dan. She slid to a stop on the porch, looking between Hunter and Viola and Uncle Dan in confusion.
“‘Nothing to warrant such a statement.’ I sure as shootin’ have reason to say such a thing,” Uncle Dan bellowed, his face going crimson again. “Were you or were you not just kissing her so passionately that it appeared as if all the water in the world had dried up, and she was the last source left to quench your thirst?”
Beatrice gasped and said, “Again?”
Viola buried her head in her hands in mortification, willing her sister to just keep her mouth shut. She hoped Uncle Dan was so caught up in his sermonizing that Beatrice’s comment escaped him.
Uncle Dan continued. “You were so lost in your sinful display that had I not said something, you’d still be at it. What kind of example are you setting for Beatrice? What else has been going on under that roof you two have been sleeping beneath?”
“Nothing inappropriate has happened,” Hunter replied, his voice commanding and sure. He continued, a hesitancy in his voice. “You’re right. I allowed the kiss to go too far, though I don’t regret it, but I would never disrespect Viola by going beyond a kiss.”
“You’re right about that,” Uncle Dan responded coolly. “Because I’m marrying you two right here and now.”
Viola shook her head and started to tell Uncle Dan that he was being ridiculous when she heard Hunter say, “All right by me, so long as that’s what Viola wants. I won’t force her to marry me.”
She shook her head and looked at him in confusion as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She shook her head harder.
“Hunter, no.” Viola grabbed his hand and pulled him to look at her. “No. You don’t have to marry me. We did nothing wrong. Just a little kiss is all. I won’t have you marrying me because of that.”
“I know I don’t have to marry you,” he said, turning toward her and placing his hand upon the side of her face. “But I sure would love to. I’ve been racking my brain, trying to figure out a way to convince you to marry someone so unworthy as me. I love you, Viola, as
crazy as that is, and I’d consider myself honored to be your husband, if you’ll have me.”
Viola gazed into his eyes and found truth and love and more emotion than she knew how to handle. Yet, despite all that he had written on his face, doubt and fear weighed heavy upon her. How could it be that this man, who had so much to live for and experience back in his time, would love simple, plain her? And looming even larger was the possibility that God would take Hunter back when he had finished what he was sent here for.
Tears coursed down her cheeks as she whispered, “But what if you … you … leave?”
“I’m not going anywhere, Viola,” he replied confidently, holstering his weapon and taking her hand.
“How can you be so sure?” she choked out while attempting to hold back her tears.
He stared down at her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the inside of her wrist. “I can’t explain it, but for the first time in forever, I feel as if I’m finally home. God’s given me such a peace about being here. I’ve had this emptiness within me for so long, a longing I could never explain. I’ve had God, and He’s filled my life with so many miracles and blessings, but there just always seemed like there was something more. It’s you, Viola. You are my more. You’ve filled that lonely place within my heart. I’m convinced, without a doubt, that you are the reason God brought me here.”
He took her face in both of his hands and wiped the tears that streamed down her face. Joy filled her so completely with his declaration that she could do nothing but stare and cry.
“So what do you say?” Hunter asked, a look of vulnerability passing over his face. “Think you can stand being married to someone so out of his element as me?”
“I have no idea what that means, but yes,” Viola said with a laugh. “I’d be honored to be your wife.”
Hunter grinned so large and seemed so happy, she about burst from the joy of it. Then his lips were upon hers, and she melted like butter in a hot skillet.
“Good,” Uncle Dan said. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use the shotgun.”
They all laughed as Beatrice grabbed Viola from Hunter’s arms and squeezed her tightly in a hug. Viola returned the hug and allowed Beatrice to pull her into the cabin to get ready for the wedding. With one last look at Hunter, who returned her gaze with a wink, Viola closed the cabin door and prepared for her life to change again.
Hunter sat in a chair at the kitchen table, watching his wife flit around the room while making a late breakfast. His wife. He covered his grin with his hand and shook his head. Never figured that would happen, considering he had never met anyone in his time that he considered wife material. All the guys in The Unit called him Priest, not because he was Catholic, which he wasn’t, or even because he was a Christian, but because he didn’t date.
Hunter still remembered the weekend his dad had taken him fishing to the lake they loved when he was a freshman in high school. He’d told Hunter that now that he was a young man, he wanted to have a chat with him about being a man. That weekend, while casting from the banks of the crystal clear lake or sitting by the fire, the smell of pine and cooked fish lingering in the air, his father had impressed so much upon Hunter’s character and values. His father and he talked about duty and bravery, about what it meant to be a warrior of God. They talked about standing one’s ground when others fell from the path. They talked about women and the responsibilities of being a husband.
Hunter’s father had insisted, in his understated way, that God had made someone special just for him. He was adamant that someday God would put someone in Hunter’s life that was his match and just as convinced that dating, even casual, confused the spirit of the one who was yours, and that often relationships progressed to things that should wait until two were married. Hunter had taken that to heart, trusting his father’s wisdom, and had prayed, almost daily, that God would open his eyes to the one who was his.
In high school, it’d been easy, what with him choosing to homeschool and enrolling in the Texas A&M ROTC program when other kids his age were still sophomores in high school. He’d double timed it and graduated in two years, and at eighteen had entered the army as an officer, already recruited for Delta Force. During his first years in the army, he’d been so busy training, he didn’t care much about women, and after the missions had started and his parents had died, he’d spent every moment he could at home with his brother, Chase. Besides, Hunter had seen the side effects of casual dating, the heartbreak and the slow decline down a trail of unfulfilled, or more often wrongly-fulfilled, lusts. His father’s wisdom had proved right.
His team members had razzed him at first, trying to set him up with women they knew when they hung out while off duty, but none of the women had set even a spark off in his heart. Lately, he’d started wondering if his heart wasn’t warm enough for a spark to start. If all the violence that surrounded him, the cold control that enveloped him, had smothered any evidence of hope that someone would ignite a fire. It was crazy that the one who would set his soul aflame like a roaring wildfire would be a hundred plus years in the past.
Viola glanced over her shoulder at him as she cooked at the stove. Her sweet, innocent smile and joy in her eyes kicked up an inferno. He was glad he’d followed his father’s advice, because from the very first moment, his soul had reached out to hers in ways he thought impossible. Now their experiences would be theirs and theirs alone, unfettered by memories of, or comparisons to, past women.
Trapper Dan was speaking about his winter travels, of trapping up in Wyoming and ministering to a group of miners here and there. While Hunter tried to pay attention, responding and asking questions when appropriate, the gentle line of Viola’s neck or the gold that glinted in her hair or the sway of her skirt as she moved about the kitchen pulled his attention away. He couldn’t wait to get her alone and breathe in her cinnamon, honey scent, to taste those sweet strawberry-pink lips again.
“Son … Hunter, you listening to me?” Trapper Dan asked.
“What? Oh. Sorry, Dan. My mind was wandering.” Hunter cleared his throat as heat rose up his neck. Man, being married was proving to be distracting.
“I realize that you’re just married and new around here,” Trapper Dan replied in seriousness. “Believe me, I understand how distracting the one you love can be.” Trapper Dan peeked at the portrait of Viola’s mother that hung on the wall before clearing his throat and continuing. “But these here mountains are tough, willing to chew a person up and spit them out, and the people who live here are even tougher. Sure, most of us are decent enough people that we help and take care of each other, but those that aren’t will take any little bit of distraction they can get to tear you to pieces. You have a family now, and they will need every bit of your focus to keep them safe.”
Viola turned toward the table and began setting things on it. When she and Beatrice had put everything on the table, Viola sat down beside him and slid her hand into his.
“You don’t have to worry about us, Uncle Dan,” Viola declared. “Even though Hunter is new here, I’m convinced he is more than capable of helping us protect and run our homestead.”
Hunter’s heart swelled at the pride and conviction that saturated Viola’s words. He prayed that God would help him to not let her down. He squeezed her hand and pressed his lips together.
“Well, if the way he reacted when I interrupted you earlier is any indication, you are in capable hands,” Trapper Dan responded. “Let’s pray. The breakfast looks delicious, and I’m starving for something other than beans and jerky.”
As they ate, the ladies asked Trapper Dan about the people he’d seen. He caught them up on friends, the babies born, and the families that had moved out. Hunter tried to focus on the conversation, but his lack of knowing anyone had his mind wandering. He stared at Viola, who was laughing at a story Trapper Dan told about a newcomer’s little boy’s hand getting caught in a stump. She looked so beautiful, laughing, her hand covering her mouth as she shook her h
ead.
“That poor boy.” She hid her smile behind her hand. “How’d you ever get his hand out?”
“Well,” Trapper Dan said, pausing with dramatic flair. “I told him if he ever wanted to get his hand out of the hole, he’d have to stop his crying, and let go of the baby skunk.”
“No,” Beatrice said, laughter spilling from her lips. “He was holding onto a skunk?”
“He said he wanted a pet, and that the baby skunk was so cute,” Trapper Dan said. “I knew he still had a hold of it from the caterwauling going on inside the log and the stench hovering over the area. When his mama realized the boy still had a hand on the critter, she blew her top.”
All of them roared with laughter. He imagined a boy like Chase, dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes, crying, covered in dirt because he didn’t want to let go of his pet. It was something his brother would’ve done. Shoot, it was something Hunter would have done. The memory brought a sadness to his spirit that he’d never see Chase again. Never laugh at memories of escapades. Chase would never meet Hunter’s family. Never hold his nieces and get in trouble with his nephews. Hunter’s mood turned somber at the sadness of where his mind had travelled.
Viola’s small hand slipped into his. She covered both of their hands with her other and offered him a sad, knowing smile. He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them.
Viola cleared her throat and glanced across the table at Trapper Dan. “Uncle Dan, we have some bad news. Pa’s dead.” Viola’s hands tightened around his, and her voice cracked as she said the last word. Hunter leaned closer to her, putting his arm around her shoulders.
“No,” Trapper Dan said, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s not possible.”
“It’s true,” Hunter said when both Beatrice and Viola didn’t respond. “River Daniels was just here with a letter from Orlando stating so.”
“How?” Trapper Dan questioned, his face crumpled in sorrow.
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