“Now, whatever you do,” she cautioned him as they climbed onto the boardwalk, “you’re not to say a word to Cord about my dress. The groom isn’t supposed to see it or know what it looks like until he sees the bride in it on the wedding day. So, can you keep a secret?”
“Of course I can. I’m not some baby, you know!”
She had to smile at his show of righteous indignation, Sarah thought as she opened the door and ushered her brother inside. He was going to be eight years old next month, and was growing up. He indeed wasn’t her baby brother anymore, but getting to be a big boy.
A big boy who resembled his two older brothers more and more with each passing day. Well, one living and one dead brother anyway, she corrected herself with a fleeting stab of pain, then quickly brushed that thought aside. The memory of Caleb’s recent demise was still very, very tender, and tears frequently hovered on the brink of falling.
Today, however, was to be a day of fun and happiness. For her sake but, even more, for Danny’s sake. He too mourned his brother. Though she tried to shield him from the worst of the news about his father and brothers, he had always been a very sensitive, perceptive child. Probably came with the territory, Sarah mused, when so much of one’s life had to be spent as a semi-invalid, with not much else to do but listen and observe.
That was going to change, and indeed had already begun to do so, since Danny had come to the ranch. His asthma attacks had dramatically lessened, and the few he’d had were far less severe. He played outside a lot more, weather permitting, and had even made some friends at church. In time, Sarah hoped he’d be healthy enough to attend regular school. More than anything, she wanted for Danny to live as normal a life as possible.
As they entered the little dress shop, the bell over the door tinkled. Edith Wolfe immediately hurried out from the back fitting room. At the sight of Sarah, Emma, and Danny, she broke into a smile.
“Oh, I’m so glad you were able to come today,” the tall, thin spinster exclaimed. “I wasn’t sure how the roads to town were, and after last night’s snow . . .”
“We took the sleigh and hadn’t any problems getting here,” Sarah said as she removed her mittens, coat, and hat, then proceeded to help Danny with his. She laid the coats and other paraphernalia on a nearby bench.
“Are you excited to see your dress, now that it’s finished?”
Edith’s question sent a shiver of happy anticipation through Sarah. “Yes, indeed. Will you help me get it on?”
The seamstress motioned her in the direction of the back room. “It’ll be my pleasure.” She glanced at Emma and Danny. “Why don’t you both wait out here? Once Sarah’s dressed, she can come out and show off her gown. In the meanwhile, there’s a pot of hot water in that kettle over yonder”—she pointed toward the potbellied stove in the corner—“and there are mugs and tea, plus some fresh sugar cookies I made this morning on the counter.”
Danny didn’t need a second invitation. He immediately made a beeline for the plate of cookies.
Emma smiled and shook her head. “You two go and get on that dress. I’ll make sure Danny doesn’t eat all of the cookies. At least not in the next few minutes anyway.”
Chuckling, the two women headed to the fitting room and, less than ten minutes later, Sarah was garbed in her wedding dress. The dress had originally been Mary Wainwright’s, but she was a much taller, larger-boned woman than Sarah. Edith had finally decided it best to open all the seams and essentially use the ivory silk and lace fabric to craft an entirely new dress to fit Sarah.
A row of tiny, silk-covered buttons fastened the cuffs of the tight, long sleeves of a gown of alternating silk and lace panels that ran full length from shoulder to the long hem, ending in a train of ribbon and lace. The waist was fitted, the neckline off the shoulder, and the matching veil of lace and silk flowed from a pretty coronet of silk roses.
Gazing at herself in the tall dressing mirror, Sarah thought she must be dreaming. The dress and veil were exquisite. Never had she imagined she’d be wearing something as fine as this to her wedding. But then, she’d never imagined ever marrying. Her life was to be dedicated to taking care of her brothers and father.
But no more. No more.
Her gaze met Edith’s in the mirror. Both women smiled.
“Guess we shouldn’t keep Emma and Danny in suspense, should we?” Sarah asked.
“No, you shouldn’t.”
At the sight of her, Emma’s eyes grew wide then immediately filled with tears. Danny’s mouth dropped open.
“Wow, Sarah!” her brother said. “You look beautiful.”
“Do you think so?” She bent down, picked up her train, then whirled around.
Danny laughed and clapped his hands.
“I can’t wait to see the expression on Cord’s face when he first sees you, child,” Emma said, hastily swiping at her tears. “He’s going to near swoon from joy.”
“Now that’s a picture,” Sarah said with a chuckle. “Cord swooning, I mean.”
For several minutes more, she basked in the attention and admiration, then turned to Edith. “Thank you so much for all your work. The dress is lovely. You’re a true artist.”
The seamstress beamed. “Only a woman as beautiful as you could do the dress justice. But I thank you for your kind words. It does my heart good to have my work so appreciated.”
“We have a bit of shopping to do, then would like to stop at the Wildflower Café for a short while.” Sarah began unbuttoning the cuffs of her sleeves. “Could you hold the gown until our return?”
“Of course.” Edith stepped aside so Sarah could make her way back to the fitting room. “It’ll be wrapped and waiting for you.”
Fifteen minutes later, dressed and bundled back in her coat, mittens, and hat, Sarah followed Danny and Emma from the dress shop. Just as she closed the door behind them, a man and woman walked from the Wildflower Café. Their voices, angry and strident, carried across and down the street.
Sarah’s head jerked up, and she turned in the direction of the arguing couple. At that moment, the woman slapped the man’s face, then wheeled around and stalked away. Emma shot a startled glance over her shoulder at Sarah.
The cause of the housekeeper’s shock wasn’t hard to fathom. They both knew the man and woman. They were none other than Allis Findley and Spencer Womack.
17
New Year’s Day, the morning after their wedding, Sarah awoke to sunshine spilling through Cord’s bedroom window. Rather, she quickly corrected herself as she yawned and stretched, Cord’s and my bedroom window. But that’ll take some getting used to, I suppose. In fact, married life in general will take some getting used to.
She glanced tenderly at the man sleeping beside her. One arm flung up over his head, Cord slumbered on, apparently dreaming deep and peacefully. Not that she could blame him. They had spent a goodly part of the night, after all had finally retired to their beds, enjoying each other’s company in a variety of delightful ways.
Cord was a surprisingly gentle and considerate lover. But then, she had equally surprised herself. Almost from the start, Sarah hadn’t felt any shyness or hesitation around him. And her unabashed ardor, she soon discovered, had immensely pleased her new husband.
Then, of course, Sarah mused, as she perused Cord’s bare chest and arms, she did have the most handsome and fit of husbands. All that boxing, which he still practiced almost daily with a leather punching bag hung in one corner of the barn, kept him in prime physical condition. A prime physical condition, she thought as she reached out and languidly traced a line from his collarbone down his chest to his muscled abdomen, that she was more than happy to admire.
Her touch must have finally woken him. Cord stirred and, as she continued her tactile exploration, smiled. He laid a hand over hers.
“Best you not start something you don’t want to finish,” he growled, his voice still husky with sleep.
Sarah giggled. She lay down beside him and snuggled close. �
�What makes you think I don’t want to finish what I started?”
A chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest. “I read you right the very first time I met you. You’re nothing but a little flirt.”
“Only with my husband.” She smiled. “Only with you.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. You seemed like you knew exactly what you were doing that day at the barn.”
“And that knowledge amounted to exactly everything I’d observed or heard the crib girls say to passing cowboys, whenever we happened to ride through that part of town. The rest”—she shrugged—“I just made up as I went.”
Cord shot her a teasing grin. “Well, wife, you just keep making up things to your heart’s content. I’ll be more than happy to be the recipient of any and everything you care to try.”
Sarah laughed, shoved to one elbow, and stared down at him. “Oh, I’ll just bet you will. You’re not the only one who read the other right, that day—”
A tentative knock sounded at their bedroom door.
Cord scowled. “Who is it?”
“I’m sorry, Cord,” Emma’s voice came from the other side. “I wouldn’t bother you and Sarah unless it was important. But Spencer Womack’s waiting downstairs and needs to talk to you pronto. He said more of the cattle have gone missing.”
For an instant, Cord went still. Then, with a low curse, he pushed up, flung aside the covers, and climbed out of bed. With an angry, jerky motion, he grabbed his trousers from a nearby chair.
“Thank you, Emma,” he called to the housekeeper. “Tell Spence I’ll be down in five minutes.”
As the sound of the older woman’s footsteps retreated down the hallway, Sarah sat up and drew the comforter close, fighting back a swell of nausea. She watched Cord pull on his denims, socks, boots, and then fling on a flannel shirt he’d retrieved from the wardrobe.
Not now, Lord. Please, not now. Can’t we have just a little bit of peace and happiness together, before all the trouble starts again? Just a little bit of time to strengthen our relationship, to learn how to stand firm together as man and wife?
“Because some cattle are missing doesn’t mean Papa and Noah are back to rustling,” she finally managed to choke out. “I already told you how sick my father is these days. And Noah said they still had plenty of money, and he didn’t aim to start thieving anytime soon, if ever again.”
His fingers rapidly fastening his shirt buttons, Cord wheeled around to face her. “Maybe it isn’t them this time. I hope and pray that’s the case. Not that we can afford to keep losing cattle, no matter who’s stealing them.”
He unbuttoned his pants and shoved his shirttails inside, then refastened them, threaded a belt through the loops, and finished by quickly brushing his hair. Halfheartedly, he ran his hand over his beard-shadowed jaw, then shook his head. With a sigh, Cord turned to face her.
“I’ll return as soon as I can, but likely Spence and I will have to head out with some hands to reconnoiter the situation. So, I don’t know exactly when I’ll be home.”
“Do what needs to be done.” Sarah forced a brave smile for his benefit as he headed to the door then paused to glance back at her. “One way or another, I’ll be here, waiting for you, when you get home.”
A fleeting expression of sadness mixed with regret flashed across his face. “That’s the best thing you could say, Mrs. Wainwright. And just thinking of you waiting for me will make me ride back as fast as I can. Nothing’s going to keep me away from you for long. That much I can promise.”
“The signs are exactly the same as before,” Cord informed Sarah, Nick, and their two sisters later that evening when he and the other men finally returned. “Two unshod horses heading west into the mountains. And, like all the other times, we tracked the cattle into the high country before their prints finally disappeared on the rocky terrain.”
Nick fingered his mug of hot cocoa, then met his brother’s glance down the length of the kitchen table where everyone was seated. “Well, unshod horses don’t tell us much. Indians aren’t the only ones who don’t shoe their animals. Plenty of locals have unshod horses too.”
“Yeah,” Cord muttered, clamping down hard on his growing frustration. “The Caldwells being one of them.”
At the mention of her family, Sarah’s head shot up. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then quickly shut it. Cord would’ve bitten off his tongue if the action could’ve taken back his rancorous words, but he couldn’t. So he instead mumbled an apologetic “Sorry” and shook his head.
“So, what’s the plan this time?” his brother asked before taking a sip of his cocoa. “Same as before?”
Cord expelled a weary breath. “Pretty much. The hands will have to resume taking shifts to guard the herd. There’s just too many cattle to bring them in close to the ranch. Or, leastwise,” he added with a grim smile, “there are so far. In time, if the rustlers keep whittling away at the herd, we’ll only have to lock what little we have left in the barns.”
“If I knew where they were,” Sarah piped up just then, “I’d bring you to them. But I don’t know. I swear to you, Cord. I don’t know.”
“Angel, he never said anything about you keeping secrets from us,” Nick began, looking to Sarah. “We know you’d help us any way you could.”
“Yes, I would.” Sarah glanced beseechingly at Cord, and the anguish burning in her eyes tore at his heart. “I’m just so tired of all this. So fed up. And if I was certain Papa and Noah were at it again—”
She threw up her hands, then jumped to her feet. “I-I’m sorry. I just can’t . . . I just can’t deal with this right now.” She bolted from the kitchen.
Shiloh and Jordan impaled him with angry glares, then rose and hurried after her.
Cord watched Sarah and his sisters leave, not knowing what to say to calm his wife or convince her to stay. If he even wanted her there just now. He was in a foul mood, and had been so since the moment Emma informed him of Spence’s arrival and the reason for his visit. He wasn’t good company for anyone right now, but most especially not for his brand-new wife.
“This is lousy timing,” his brother softly interjected just then. “One could almost imagine someone isn’t very happy about your and Sarah’s marriage.”
“Well, it’s not hard to figure out who that would be, is it?” Cord demanded with a sharp laugh.
“Might be harder than you’d think. Holed up in the mountains like they are, I wonder how much news gets to the Caldwells very often.”
“Meaning what?” Cord eyed him narrowly.
Nick shrugged. “Meaning, who else might hold a grudge against us, or against you and Sarah for marrying?”
“Can’t think of anyone offhand who’d be mad enough at us to do something as lamebrained as stealing our cattle. Aside from the Caldwells, of course.” Puzzlement furrowed Cord’s brow. “And, as far as anyone mad at Sarah and me for getting married, Allis is likely the only one who might’ve taken it badly. Can’t see her rustling our cattle, though.” He chuckled wryly. “Leastwise, not unless she’s got some talents she’s keeping well hidden from everyone.”
His brother paused to take another swallow from his mug. “Well, all I know is this isn’t a one-man operation, and from what Sarah’s told us of her father’s worsening heart condition, I’m inclined to doubt he’s able to do anything as strenuous as cattle rustling anymore. Which leaves us with—”
“With discovering who else might be picking up where the Caldwells left off?” Cord finished for him. “I suppose we’ve got to be open to other suspects. According to Sarah, though, the Caldwells have plenty of our money left. But her brother could just as easily have hired a few malcontents or men down on their luck to help him, now that his father likely can’t. There are plenty of failed prospectors out there these days with barely two pennies to scrape together.”
Nick sighed and rubbed his jaw. “Yes, there are. Still, though the Caldwells are the ones who got caught red-handed, I hope it’s not them th
is time. I want all this feuding and strife with them over and done with. For our sakes, their sakes, but most importantly, for your and Sarah’s sake.”
Cord gave a grunt of agreement. “It’d be nice to have some peace and quiet to work on our marriage.” He laughed, the sound harsh. “And maybe enjoy a honeymoon of sorts, even if we can only afford to have it here at the ranch.”
“Don’t worry, little brother. Once things settle down a bit, you and Sarah can have a real honeymoon.” He paused. “Just as long as it’s not in New York City, of course.”
“And why’s that? Afraid we might decide to stay there, and I’d go back to my law practice?”
“Something like that.” Nick finished his cocoa and set down the mug. “Seriously, what are your plans, now that you’ve finally gone and taken a wife? Assuming you’ve even spoken with Sarah about the possibility of returning to New York City.”
“Actually, the subject hasn’t come up yet.”
“Why’s that?”
Cord shrugged. “Probably a combination of things. The ongoing upheaval in both of our lives, courtesy of our fathers. Our rather tumultuous and whirlwind romance. And, I secretly suspect, Sarah’s assumed now that Pa’s died that I’ll stay on to help you run the ranch.”
“Can’t say as how I’d mind that. I could use a little of your brawn to complement my brains.”
“Oh, so that’s how it is?” Cord chuckled. “Even after all these years, I’m still just the youngest with nothing of value to contribute save the sweat of my brow.”
Nick smiled. “Hardly, but for old time’s sake if for nothing else, I thought that fiddle was worth playing one last time.” He leaned forward, his expression growing serious. “Let’s be honest here, Cord. To make a success of this ranch, not only do I need that sharp, analytical mind of yours, but I need your eyes, ears, and legs. Someone has to be out there with the hands, go on the roundups, and be a presence to be reckoned with. And you possess all that and more.”
Heart of the Rockies Collection Page 25
