He'd done the right thing, asking Cal to marry him. In all his travels, he'd not met a woman he liked as well. She was good company, a great cook, and a hard worker. Maybe she was a little too mindful of her pa's wishes, but he trusted her to abide by her marriage vows. "Forsaking all others." He liked the sound of that. It wouldn't be hard to put her first, ahead of his folks, but they'd never tried to live his life for him, or train him up a certain way, not like Lemuel Smith had done.
Merlin was certain sure Smith had intended to sell her, one way or another, now she'd grown into a beautiful woman. It just made sense, from all he'd heard of the man. Yet Cal hadn't a notion. She still felt she owed her father a duty.
After tomorrow, she'd owe him fealty, as he would her. He'd take a sight better care of her than her father ever had.
One of the barn cats climbed on top of him and started kneading the blanket over his chest. He scratched gently behind its ears. "How about that, cat? I'm getting married tomorrow. Did you ever hear the like?"
The cat purred, a small buzz-saw of sound. After a while it curled up on his chest and its purr softened into the barest whisper. Merlin pulled his arms under the covers and closed his eye. It was a long time before his mind would stop working on what he'd be doing this time tomorrow.
* * * *
Murphy drove her to town in a buggy. Callie hadn't seen Merlin this morning, but she hadn't expected to. He'd gone into town as soon as he'd finished chores, intending to get a bath, a shave, and a haircut. She hoped he wouldn't get his hair cut too short. She liked the feel of it between her fingers. Just the thought made her hands tingle.
As they approached the edge of town, she said, "Murphy? I'm scared."
He chuckled without taking his eyes off the road, now mostly clear of snow. "I don't blame you. Gettin' hitched is a big step. I was a mite surprised when Merlin told me. But once I thought on it, I saw it was the right thing. He'll be a good husband to you, Callie. I don't think there's a mean bone in his body."
"Did you ever read that story he's so fond of? The one about King Arthur?"
"I'm not much of a reader. Dime novels are about all I can handle."
"He told me the story. It's all about brave, honorable men who go 'round doing good deeds. They're called knights." The buggy hit a bump and she grabbed the rail. As soon as the road smoothed out, she said, "Merlin's like one of them, wanting to do good. I'm afraid he's marrying me more because he thinks I need saving than because he needs a wife."
Murphy pulled the team to a halt at the side of the road. "Callie, there's probably a hundred reasons why a man might marry, but I doubt if any of them are because he thinks he needs a wife. Were I you, I'd not worry about the why. Just go along with it. Or don't you care for him?"
"Care for-- Oh, Murphy, I've loved him ever since he saved me from a beating back in Eagle Rock." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she grabbed his arm with both hands. "Don't tell him. Promise you won't tell him."
The only sound for several minutes was the chug-chug-chug of a switch engine in the yards. She forced herself to turn loose of his arm, but hesitated to say anything until he'd promised. At last he turned his head and looked across at her. "You love him?"
She caught her lower lip between her teeth and nodded.
"Has he said he loves you?"
Still gnawing, she shook her head.
"Have you said you love him?"
"Does it matter? We're getting married."
Shaking his head, Murphy slapped the reins on the horses' backs. "Seems to me there's a lot you haven't talked about. I just hope it don't come back to bite you later. But I ain't no expert at marriage, so maybe I'm wrong."
They rode the rest of the way to the church in silence.
As soon as she and Murphy pulled up in front of the church, Mrs. Trueblood stepped out of the parsonage door and motioned to her. Wondering what was wrong, Callie followed the narrow path that had been shoveled between the church and the white frame house next door.
"Reverend Newell wants to talk to you," Mrs. Trueblood said. "Come in."
The preacher was a tall, thin man, wearing a stern expression. "Miss Smith, I do wish you had come in before today. I like to counsel brides before the great day. But there's no helping it. Your Mr. Lachlan explained that there was a need for you to marry quickly." His glance at her waistline told her what he was thinking.
Holding her tongue between her teeth took an effort.
"Now, then, I want to make sure you're aware of the important step you're taking today. Marriage is not to be entered into lightly. Many a young woman has married in haste and lived to regret it. Have you known Mr. Lachlan long?"
"About six years." She didn't reckon it was any of his business they'd not seen each other for nearly all those years.
"That's fine, then. And you've met his family? You're comfortable with them?"
"I don't know his family. They live a long ways from here. I--"
"Unfortunate. How about your family? Has Mr. Lachlan obtained permission from your father to marry you?"
The temper she'd been holding in check since his first question broke free. "Reverend Newell, my father abandoned me here in Cheyenne with a few dollars and no place to go. Now if you don't want to marry us, you say so right now. We'll find us another preacher."
"Now, now, Miss Smith, I'm just doing my duty and a spiritual advisor. If you're certain--"
"I am. Can we get on with it?"
With a huff and a puff, he gestured her toward the door. "I'll be along in just a moment. Please wait in the narthex."
When she looked at him in puzzlement, he said, "The lobby. Just inside the front door."
On their way to the church, Mrs. Trueblood said, "He was quite rude, wasn't he? Since you're not part of his congregation, he really had no business prying." She followed Callie into the lobby. "Was that true? Did your father really abandon you here?"
"He just walked off and left me. I was so scared." Even the memory made cold shivers run down her spine.
"You'll be fine now. Mr. Lachlan seems like a fine young man." She opened the door into the church a crack and peeked through. "Handsome too. And impatient, I see."
The preacher came in, followed by a woman who bustled past them as if they were unclean. She slipped into the church, but he lingered. "Who will give you away?" he said after looking all around.
"Give me away?"
"Usually a girl's father gives her away," Mrs. Trueblood said, "but under the circumstances..."
"Mine won't. Can't you skip that part?"
His face pokered up, but after a short pause he said, "I suppose, but it's most irregular."
"Let's do it, then. Mrs. Trueblood, will you walk with me?"
"Of course. Oh! I almost forgot. Just a moment." She slipped into the church, and quickly returned, holding a small cluster of dark green leaves tied with a white ribbon. "It's not flowers, but a bride should have a bouquet." Before handing it to Callie, she hugged her. "Be happy, my dear."
Just then someone began playing a piano. Reverend Newell opened the door and went inside. He strode up the aisle and took his place at the front of the church.
"Oh my goodness!" Callie whispered when she caught sight of Merlin, off to the side of the preacher. "He cleans up real nice."
He wore a black coat and trousers, a white shirt with a stiff high collar, and a dark red cravat. His hair was either cut really short or pulled back, and his expression was more solemn than she had ever seen him to be. He was staring toward where she stood. When she and Mrs. Trueblood stepped into the church, he smiled, that wonderful, wide smile that always made her feel happy.
Maybe he doesn't love me, but he likes me. I'll settle for that.
* * * *
For something so important in a man's life, the wedding ceremony was real short. It seemed to Merlin he'd just taken Cal's hand in his when he heard the preacher saying, "I pronounce that they are husband and wife together, in the name of the F
ather, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Those that God has joined together, let no man put asunder."
It gave him a shivery feeling to hear those words. For a moment the weight of all he'd vowed to do seemed unbearable, something so impossible he'd never be man enough to accomplish it.
The preacher finished his prayer and said he could kiss her. For the first time he looked into her green, green eyes.
She was as scared as he was.
"I'll take care of you," he whispered against her mouth. "All my life, I'll take care of you."
Conscious of everyone watching, he only sipped, instead of taking the great gulp of her he wanted. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and turned her to face the pews, filled with a couple of dozen muleskinners, Abner's family, and the seamstress. The piano player started something that sounded like it should be played when a battle was won.
Great God, what have I done?
As soon as the thought came, he banished it. I'll not regret this day, he promised her silently. Neither will you, if I have anything to do about it.
Bescherer's Saloon and Restaurant, where Abner had found work, had let them have an alcove off the dining room for their dinner. Most of the 'skinners chose to head for the bar, where Merlin had arranged for a keg to be broached. Abner, the whole Simpson family, Mrs. Trueblood, Murphy and Jeb all sat down with them for dinner. Everyone was in a merry mood. Laughter rang all around as they found their chairs.
Cal was chewing on her lip again, he noticed when they were seated side by side. He reached for her hand, and found it clenched tightly on her lap. "What's wrong?" he whispered, as he leaned close.
"Nothing," she whispered back. "I just... This is..." She shook her head. "It's too much. Everything happened so fast."
"Too much excitement," he decided. "Do you want to leave now?"
"Oh, no. That wouldn't be fitting. We have to stay. We're the hosts."
"You're sure?" He'd much rather get on their way back to the cabin. It was already midafternoon. By the time they got there it might be time for bed.
She turned to him with a smile, but it was only on her mouth, not in her eyes. "I'll be fine. And you promised me champagne."
"I did. It ought to be coming along any time now."
Sure enough, a waiter came in bearing a napkin-wrapped bottle. Behind him was another, carrying a bucket with snow packed around a second bottle. The first man made a ceremony of opening his bottle, and when the cork came free with a loud POP, everyone cheered.
Murphy stood when the glasses were all filled. "Folks, I've never been a best man before, nor am I likely to be one ever again, given the life I lead, but this time it was an honor. Let's all wish Mr. and Mrs. Merlin Lachlan a long and happy life together." He held his glass aloft until everyone had followed suit. "You treat her right, Merlin, or I'll tan your hide."
Merlin noticed everyone but Abner and Mrs. Trueblood sipping cautiously at first. Abner's nephews both made faces and set their glasses down, and their mother quickly slid them toward the center of the table. He stood in turn. "Folks, we thank you for your friendship and your help." Everyone drank again, including Cal, who was wide-eyed at her first taste.
She looked up at him. "It's delicious. And it tickles."
Laughter rippled around the table. Merlin waited them out. "I believe Cal is in danger, even now, so I'm asking for you all to keep your eyes peeled and your ears open. If you hear of anyone asking about her, or just asking about women new to town, or bakers, or anything else that might be about her, tell me. We'll be moving on as soon as Murphy can find someone to take over my job, but until then I want to be sure she's safe. I know I can count on you all."
He raised his glass to them. "A man's wealth is measured by the friends he has. I'm rich. No, we're rich." After he'd drained his glass, he sat down and leaned toward Cal. "I've heard tossing the glass into the fireplace makes a toast a binding vow. 'Spose we ought to do that?"
"You're crazy. These fancy glasses must've cost a fortune."
He had to chuckle. "My frugal wife. We'll never go hungry as long as you watch my purse."
His wife. That was starting to sound better all the time. And pretty soon she'd be truly his wife. He could hardly wait.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Callie had a pretty good idea of what happened between a man and a woman. At least she knew what went where, and the man's thing had to be swollen and hard when he stuck it in. She'd been told, more than once, that men in rut were like buffalo in stampede, impossible to stop and caring little for what the woman wanted. From what her ma had said, and the warnings Mrs. Flynn had given her, she couldn't think of a single reason for a woman to marry besides wanting babies.
And protection. She'd like babies someday, but right now she'd settle for the protection.
Merlin was silent as he drove them to the cabin in the buggy Murphy had rented. So was she, for she couldn't for the life of her think of anything to say. If she opened her mouth she was going to blurt out how scared she was.
Maybe I should have let him do it when he first said something. Then I wouldn't have had time to think on it. She stole a peek at him from the corner of her eye. His jaw was set and a muscle near his temple twitched now and then. I'll bet he's grinding his teeth.
Pa ground his teeth when he was mad. She started feeling sick. Merlin promised he'd never take a hand to me. Will he remember?
A light shone from the cabin window and smoke drifted from the chimney. "Somebody's there," she said, and was scared again.
"I asked Tom Ainsworth to see to it. He doesn't drink, so he didn't mind missing the party with the other teamsters." The buggy took the corner smartly. "Do you mind coming to the barn with me?"
"No, of course not. I can help you brush the horses down."
"I'd be obliged."
My, we are being polite. In a way she was relieved to have something to do. When they got into the cabin, they'd be alone. She was his wife. His to do with as he wished. Merlin had never given her any reason to distrust him, but still...
Once the horses were stabled, brushed and fed, and the milking done, there was nothing more to keep them from the cabin. "Cal, I want you to wait here. I'll be right back."
Before she could protest, he'd picked up the milk bucket and headed for the cabin. He was inside for several minutes before he came back. "Come."
She gave him her hand. They walked together, not quite side by side, along the narrow cleared path. Her green skirts brushed snow on either side, but it was frozen hard now and didn't stick to the velvet. Just short of the steps he stopped.
"Wait." He opened the door, let it swing inwards.
And then he picked her up.
"Merlin! What are you doing?"
He swung her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. "Carrying my bride across the threshold. It's a tradition. Kick the door closed, will you?"
She did, and heard the latch fall into place. "Aren't you going to bar it?"
"In a minute." His arms tightened and he nudged her chin up. His tongue prodded her closed lips. When she gasped, he explored, his tongue tip probing behind her teeth, tangling with hers. In and out it went, the motion sending shivers of excitement through her.
After a long while, he drew back, leaving her trembling. "Um, let's take care of the door. And take our coats off. And maybe have some more champagne."
She looked beyond him to the table. On it sat a bucket holding a champagne bottle. Two of the fragile glasses sat beside it, along with a napkin-covered tray.
His hands clasped her shoulders. "I'll take your coat, milady wife." His voice was deeper than usual, almost gravelly. When her arms were free, he planted a quick kiss on her neck, just behind her ear.
Shivers scrabbled up and down her spine and along both arms, even though the cabin was warmer than they usually kept it. Or felt that way, anyhow.
His coat joined hers on the pegs beside the door. Once again she admired how he looked in his black suit, ev
ery bit as elegant as any of the gentlemen who'd come into Lambert House for dinner. Except they hadn't had a tail of waving blond hair hanging behind.
I'm sure glad he didn't have it cut off.
Instead of coming back to her, he went to the table and opened the champagne. She loved how it popped when the cork came out. At her first taste, she'd wondered why anyone would drink such sour stuff, but then the taste had changed as she swallowed, leaving her mouth with a fruity, tangy memory. She'd only had two glasses at the party despite wanting more, for Merlin had warned her its effects could sneak up on her before she knew it.
"Do you want me drunk now?" Her voice held a note of suspicion, one she'd have given anything to have kept back when his smile faded.
Holding a full glass out to her, he said, "I want to toast our marriage again. One sip is enough, if that's all you want. But it wouldn't hurt either one of us to relax a bit. This has been an exciting day."
He raised his glass and waited for her to do likewise. "Calista Lachlan, I made a promise to love and honor you, to live with you and cherish you, to be faithful to you, for all the days of my life. I also pledge to protect you from danger to the best of my ability. I mean every word, wife of mine."
She looked at him over the rim of her glass. He'd said he'd love her, but he'd never said he loved her. I can deal with that, she decided, for he's a good man, and I love him enough for both of us. "And I pledge to love, honor, cherish and obey you, to be faithful to you, forsaking all others. I will, Merlin. I will forsake all others."
They both drank, looking deeply into each other's eyes. This vow was the important one, the one that made them truly married.
He grinned then, that mischievous expression she loved so well, and flung his champagne glass into the fireplace, where it shattered. Looking at her, he raised his eyebrow.
Much as she wanted to keep the lovely glass, she drew back her arm and threw her glass after his. Hadn't he said doing it made their vows unbreakable?
Squire's Quest Page 23
