“That didn’t take long,” Ridge remarked. Swinging down, he helped her into the buggy, then took up the reins and turned the horses toward home.
They had gone only a few blocks when Victor Claunch flagged them down.
“Good afternoon, Martha. I need to talk to you, if you’ve got a minute.” Victor looked pointedly at Ridge. “Alone.”
“Can’t it wait?” Marty asked.
“It concerns your mother.”
Marty’s eyes widened. “Has something happened to her?”
“No.” Reaching up, Victor took hold of her hand and tugged gently. “This won’t take long.”
Marty glanced at Ridge; then, slipping her hand from Claunch’s grasp, she alighted from the buggy.
“I’ll wait for you over at the blacksmith’s,” Ridge told her. Giving Claunch a warning glance, he took up the reins and drove down the street.
Victor took Marty’s arm and escorted her across the street and into the hotel dining room. He held out her chair, then sat down across the table from her. When the waitress came, he ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of cake.
Marty ordered a piece of apple pie, then sat back and regarded Victor. Today he wore black trousers, a blue shirt, and a long black coat. She didn’t know why it annoyed her that he was always so well dressed. Perhaps because she always had the feeling that he was really a snake disguised as a gentleman.
“So what’s this all about?” she asked impatiently.
Victor cleared his throat. “I know you and I talked about getting married…” He held up his hand when she started to speak. “Hear me out. This isn’t easy for me to say. I’ve been courting your mother…”
“What?” Marry stared at him, unable to believe her ears.
Victor nodded. “I know I asked you to marry me, and you’ve every right to be upset.”
“I’m not upset about that,” Marty snapped.
He looked startled. “You’re not?”
“Victor, I never said yes.”
He stared at her a moment. She could almost see him searching his memory, trying to remember what her response had been the day he proposed. “Well,” he said, “that makes what I have to tell you a mite easier. The truth is, I’ve always had a hankerin’ for your mother, and now that Seamus is…gone…well, I’m going to ask your mother to marry me, and I wanted your permission first.”
Marty stared at him in disbelief. “You want my permission?” She laughed mirthlessly. “That’s something you’ll never have! Tell me the truth, Victor. This is just another of your ploys to get your hands on the ranch, isn’t it?”
Anger flared in Claunch’s eyes. “Really, Martha,” Victor said, looking offended. “How can you even think such a terrible thing?”
Marty leaned forward. “Because I know you,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I know you’ve been after the ranch ever since my father died. I may not be able to prove it, but I know you’re the one behind all the troubles we’d been having before I hired Ridge Longtree.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it? Tell me, would you still want to marry my mother if she didn’t own the ranch?”
The tips of his ears turned red. “Of course I would.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It doesn’t really matter what you believe, does it?” He nodded at the waitress as she placed their order on the table. Picking up his cup, he took a drink. “I’m going to propose to your mother,” he said when the waitress moved away, “with or without your permission.” He smiled smugly. “And I’m sure she’ll accept. So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “where have you been the last few weeks?”
“Didn’t Nettie tell you?”
“No.” He laughed. “I’ve been so entranced by your mother I never thought to ask.”
“You must have been, if you didn’t even notice that Dani’s also been gone.”
Victor stared at her a moment, then shrugged. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her. I just assumed she was busy elsewhere, perhaps with young Mulvaney.”
Marty looked at the pie in front of her and pushed it away, her appetite gone. “Cory’s dead.”
“What?”
Marty nodded. “Apache stole some of our stock and captured Dani and Cory. Cory was killed trying to escape.”
“And your sister?”
“She’ll be home soon.”
“I don’t understand. Is she still with the Indians?”
Marty took a deep breath. “Dani married an Apache.”
Victor stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment. “She what?”
“You heard me. I hope you won’t mind having an Apache for a stepson-in-law. And now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Longtree is waiting.”
Pushing away from the table, she rose and left the dining room.
Outside, she took a deep breath, relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about Victor Claunch’s unwelcome attention anymore, horrified that he might become her stepfather. But surely Nettie wouldn’t marry the man! And what if she did? Marty shuddered at the thought of Victor living in the house with them, and then frowned. If Nettie married Claunch, she would probably move into his house, which meant Marty might be able to stay on and run the ranch. It wouldn’t be the same, though. Even if Victor let her stay, it would no longer be her ranch, but his. Would she want to stay under those circumstances? Where else could she go?
Lost in thought, she made her way down the boardwalk toward the blacksmith’s shop.
Ridge was standing out front. Just the sight of him lifted her spirits. Although there were other men gathered around, Ridge Longtree was a man apart. It wasn’t just the color of his skin, or the fact that he was taller than the men around him. He possessed an air of self-confidence and inner strength that was evident even when he was doing nothing more than passing the time of day with men he hardly knew.
As though sensing her approach, he glanced over his shoulder, then turned around, watching her walk toward him.
“So,” he said when she drew closer, “what did Claunch have to say?”
“You’re not going to believe this. He’s going to propose to my mother, and he wanted my blessing.”
Ridge grunted softly. “Didn’t he propose to you not long ago?”
“Yes. At least I didn’t have to tell him no.”
“Do you think your mother will accept?”
“I hope not! Certainly even Nettie would have better sense than to marry a lowdown snake like Victor Claunch.”
Ridge laughed softly. “Are you ready to go?”
Marty nodded, and Ridge handed her into the buggy, then hopped up beside her. Taking up the reins, he clucked to the team.
With a sigh, Marty sat back and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember a more stressful day in her life. Talking to Cory’s parents had been one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do. Then she’d had to sit and listen to Victor Claunch’s shocking announcement.
She must have dozed off, because she came awake with a start when she realized the buggy had stopped. She looked over at Ridge. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I just thought we’d stop awhile.”
“Why?” She glanced around, noting that he had pulled off the road and parked the buggy in the shade alongside a stream.
“You in a hurry to get home?”
She thought about that for a moment, then shook her head. She wasn’t the least bit anxious to go back to the house and face her mother, but the ranch wouldn’t run itself, and she had already been away far too long.
“We need to go,” she said, even though spending the day here, with Ridge, was almighty tempting.
“Whatever needs to be done will still be there in an hour or two.” Swinging down from the seat, he walked around to her side and lifted her out of the buggy.
“Ridge…” His hands were still around her waist, and he made no move to let her go.
“Shh.” He drew her closer. “Just relax.”
Rela
x? Ha! How was she supposed to relax when he was standing so close, when she could feel the heat radiating from his body, feel his breath fanning her cheek?
She looked up at him, waiting. He didn’t disappoint her. She made no move to resist when he lowered his head and kissed her. Heat engulfed her, burning away every care, every other thought. How could she worry about Nettie or Victor Claunch or anything else when she was in Ridge’s arms, when his hands were sliding up and down her back, when her whole body tingled from his touch?
Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her away from the buggy and lowered her onto a patch of grass. He sat down behind her, her back to his front, his legs on either side of her, and then, to her amazement, he began to rub her back and shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“Taking care of my girl,” he replied.
Startled, she glanced over her shoulder. “Your girl?” Excitement bubbled up inside her. Did he truly think of her as “his” girl?
“You got a problem with that?”
“Several,” she retorted, tamping down the urge to turn and throw herself in his arms.
“Several?” He lifted one brow. “Want to tell me what they are?”
It was hard to think coherently with his hands moving over her back and shoulders. She held up one hand, ticking off the reasons. “One, you’re a drifter. Two, you’re a hired gun. Three, you’re wanted by the law. Four, you’ve never said you…you cared for me at all. Five—”
He didn’t give her a chance to finish. Tossing his hat aside, he cupped the back of her head in one big, capable hand and claimed her lips with his once again. It wasn’t fair, she thought, dazed. It just wasn’t fair that he could render her speechless with a kiss, make her forget all the reasons why he was wrong for her, make her want him with every fiber of her being.
It just wasn’t fair, but it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. In his arms she felt beautiful, desirable. Heat flowed through her, making her feel as if she had swallowed a ray of sunshine.
Turning toward him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Soon, all too soon, he would ride out of her life and she would never see him again. But she wouldn’t think about that now, not when his tongue was teasing hers, not when his hands were caressing her.
Slowly he fell back on the grass, drawing her with him, until her body covered his. “Ridge…”
He nibbled her lower lip. “What?”
“I’ve never…you know.”
“I know. But if you kiss me again, I’ll let you have your wicked way with me.”
It seemed wrong to laugh at such a time, but she couldn’t help it.
“Think that’s funny, do you?” he asked gruffly.
“No. It’s just that you make me so happy, even now, when my whole life is falling apart.”
He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “It’ll all work out, you’ll see.”
“Will it?” She traced the line of his jaw with her forefinger, ran her fingers over his cheek. “How can it? We still don’t know who killed my father. The ranch doesn’t belong to me anymore. Claunch wants to marry my mother. Dani’s married to an Apache.”
“I’m half Apache,” he reminded her. “Would you mind marrying me?”
She blinked at him. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. Would you mind marrying a half-breed?”
“Are you…? Is that…?” She shook her head. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”
“Sure sounded like it to me.”
She stared at him. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “More serious than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.”
“But…why?”
“Why do people usually get married?”
“Because they love each other, but—”
“I’m in love with you, Martha Jean Flynn. Do you think you might love me a little?”
“No.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “No?”
“No, you silly man,” she said fervently. “I love you ever so much more than a little.”
He laughed then, a deep, rich sound that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. And then he kissed her again, a kiss that captured her heart and soul and branded her his woman forever.
When the kiss ended, she looked up at him, breathless. “So now what?”
His gaze moved over her, hotter than any flame. “I have a few ideas.”
Marty felt her cheeks grow warm. She was pretty sure she knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking—and wanting—the same thing. Wanting to feel his bare skin beneath her hand, to feel his body joined to hers, to know, at last, what it was like to be loved by a man.
“So,” he said, “tell me what you want.”
“Don’t you know?”
“I know what I want,” he muttered, and kissed her again, one hand spread across her back, the other cupping her buttocks, pressing her hips to his so there could be no mistaking what it was he wanted.
It was tempting, so tempting. She kissed him back, surrendering to the tide of emotions that flowed through her, pulling her first one way and then another. She wanted him desperately, needed him more than the air she breathed, and yet, in the back of her mind, she remembered how, as a young girl, she had dreamed of a big wedding, of saving herself for the man who would be her husband. How often had her mother told her that good girls did not lightly give away that which could only be given once? It’s a gift to be saved for your husband, Nettie had often said. No man wants another man’s leavings.
Marty frowned at the memory.
“What is it?” Ridge asked.
“Nothing. I was just thinking of something my mother said.”
Ridge lifted one brow. “Now?” he asked wryly. “And what is it that she said?”
“She told me I should save myself for the man I married.”
He grunted softly. Kissing her on the tip of her nose, he lifted her until she was sitting up, and then he sat up too. “She was right.” Rising, he offered her his hand.
Disappointed in spite of herself, Marty took his hand and let him help her to her feet. She straightened her clothes; he dusted off his jeans and retrieved his hat.
“Come on,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re far too tempting for your own good, and I’m far too weak to resist you.”
She smiled, pleased that he found her so desirable.
“Just one thing,” he said as he lifted her into the buggy.
“What’s that?”
“You never said yes.”
She grinned at him as he climbed in beside her.
“Do you think for a minute that I’d say no?”
She was, he thought, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he wondered, in that instant how he could have ever thought otherwise. Her cheeks were flushed and pink, her brown eyes sparkled with an inner glow, her hair framed her face like an auburn cloud streaked with sunlight.
“You still haven’t said yes,” he reminded her with a wry grin.
“Yes, Ridge Longtree, I’ll marry you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dani brushed a lock of hair from her brow, then, taking a deep breath, she returned to scraping the hide pegged to the ground. It took skill and a steady hand to skin a deer without ruining the hide.
She had never worked so hard in her life as she had since they arrived at the stronghold. And to think she had once thought life on the ranch was hard!
She’d had to learn which plants were good for food or for healing, and which were poisonous. Sanza was unfailingly patient with her as she sought to learn the ways of his people and endeavored to learn his language.
Cooking on the stove in the kitchen back home was child’s play compared to cooking over an open fire. Her first few attempts had turned out rather badly. Either she burned the meat from having the fire too hot, or she served it only partially cooked because the fire was not hot enough. Since Apache didn’t eat three regular meals a day, but wheneve
r they were hungry, food had to be available at all times. She had been proud of herself when she caught several fish in the river and served them for dinner, only to learn that the Apache did not eat fish because they believed they were related to snakes, and snakes were cursed.
Remembering her Bible study, Dani thought it interesting that the Indians believed snakes were cursed, since it had been a snake that deceived Eve in the Garden of Eden.
Thinking of Adam and Eve reminded Dani of a story Sanza had told her one night, a fable of how Old Man created people. As so many Apache stories seemed to, this one started with, “Long ago, when the world was new…” At that time, there were no people in the world except for Old Man, Coyote, and a few buffalo. One day, because Old Man was lonely, and maybe a little lazy, he was sitting by his fire trying to think of a way to pass the time. He had food and he had shelter, but he thought it would be nice if he had someone to talk to. Suddenly it occurred to him that he was the Old Man, and he could create people if he was of a mind to. And so he decided to make people. First he studied his reflection in a pool of water, and then he counted his bones and studied how they fit together. Then he made some clay and fashioned some bones and baked them in the fire.
When they were done, he took the best ones and made the figure of a man from the bones, then tied them together with sinew and covered the baked bones with buffalo fat. He added layers of clay mixed with buffalo blood to fatten them up, and then covered it all with a piece of buffalo hide. He was so pleased with what he had done that he made some more, and when he was finished, he blew smoke into the eyes, nose, and mouth of the clay figures and they came to life. And Old Man was happy because he had someone to smoke with and was no longer alone. Then, one day, Coyote came to visit. He looked at the men Old Man had created and said he thought he could do better, and asked Old Man what he was going to do with all the leftover bones.
Old Man said he didn’t think they could make men out of the discarded bones, but the two of them got together and made creatures out of the best of them. When they were finished, Old Man blew smoke in the eyes, nose, and mouth of each one. But, instead of creating more men, Old Man and Coyote discovered that they had created women. As soon as the women were created, they began to talk to one another. And so it is even to this day, Sanza had said, that men sit around the fire and smoke and women gather together and talk.
Under Apache Skies Page 21
