“I can’t see why that piece of wisdom couldn’t be applied more universally.” Susanna shifted over him, a small rise and fall that rekindled his need. “Time for you to try a bit harder, you husband of mine.”
****
Susanna added another parcel beneath the Christmas tree and stood back to admire the display. They hadn’t been able to locate a spruce, but a tall juniper served the same purpose—green needles and wintry forest scents. A fire crackled in the stone chimney, making the parlor a little too hot, but she liked the cozy atmosphere of open flames.
Connor had gone out to the bunkhouse to share a few drinks with the ranch hands. Susanna had already wished the men Merry Christmas as they took turns to dine in the kitchen. Tomorrow, on Christmas Day, there would be a celebration for all.
Little had happened in the ten days since Connor had killed the two gunmen. Both had turned out to be wanted for bank robbery and murder. Nothing had been found to tie the pair to Hartman, but a piece of paper in the bigger man’s hotel room had contained the name and address of Catterill’s law office.
The lawyer had denied any knowledge of the men. He speculated they were passing through Cedar City, and had planned to seek him out for legal advice. As he was the only lawyer in town, the argument stood to reason. The sheriff had come to the conclusion that the outlaws had been hiding on Circle Star property and had shot at Connor to evade capture.
Lack of proof meant they had no choice but to go along with his verdict.
Connor had collected a reward of $4,000 for killing the outlaws. Pete had refused a share, but Garrett and Ramirez had accepted $500 each. In addition, Garrett had taken possession of the big outlaw’s black gelding, and Ramirez had claimed the silver-studded saddle and bridle. The smaller outlaw’s horse was worthless, but Susanna had given it a home anyway.
She heard the thud of footsteps in the hall even before she saw Connor stride in. Since he’d regained his strength, he seemed to be brimming with impatience, as if he wanted to live his life with a greater intensity after having almost been deprived of it.
“Everything all right with the men?” Susanna asked.
Connor moved up to the fireplace and held his hands out to the heat. “Ramirez wants to lease a plot of land behind the stables. He’d like to use his reward money to build a cabin with a fenced yard around it. Somewhere for Miranda to grow flowers and for the children to play when they come along.”
Her heart gave a jolt. Wait for the right moment, Susanna told herself.
“Can’t we give them a bit of land?” she asked. Currently, Miranda had a room in the house, and although Ramirez slept with his wife, he kept his gear in the bunkhouse, a temporary arrangement put in place at the time of their marriage.
Connor turned away from the fire, his lean frame silhouetted against the flames. “Ramirez wants to stay close to the main house for safety. Since I don’t want to put a hole in the middle of Circle Star, I’ve offered to lease him an acre for a dollar a year.”
Susanna gave her consent to the plan, and they sat down to drink coffee. Connor talked about his upcoming trip to San Francisco to purchase a Hereford bull, and Susanna told him about her hopes that Claire would soon come to visit.
As they sat side by side, a sense of contentment flowed through Susanna. This is how she had imagined marriage to be—sharing their thoughts, no secrets between them. When the darkness outside grew solid and stars studded the sky, she rose from the big velvet sofa and went to the Christmas tree. She pulled a long, thin parcel from beneath the branches and carried it to Connor.
“This is for you.”
He set his coffee cup on the side table. “Shouldn’t we wait until morning?”
“My mother’s family came from the Nordic countries where gifts are given out on Christmas Eve. Our custom has been to open family gifts in the evening and the rest on Christmas Day. That way, when I was a child, expensive gifts from my parents didn’t eclipse the small ones from ranch employees.”
As Susanna spoke, she took stock of the room. The sofas sagged and the drapes had faded in the sun. She guessed her father had refused to alter a single thing since her mother left—another sign that her parents had loved each other despite the circumstances that drove them apart.
Her gaze returned to Connor and the package he held. “Open it.”
Oddly hesitant, he peeled away the shiny red paper and opened the long case inside.
“A Winchester repeating rifle,” he said in a low voice.
Susanna leaned toward him on the sofa. “It’s the new 1895 model. It can take government cartridges that use smokeless powder, so it won’t sting your eyes and your clothes won’t smell of gunpowder.” When Connor showed no excitement, she added, “It’s the most powerful model they’ve ever made. It’s the one Arizona Rangers use. I thought you might like one, in case you need to rescue me again.”
Still Connor didn’t speak. He sat in silence, his fingers sliding over the smooth wooden stock. Finally, he raised his gaze. “It’s the first Christmas gift I’ve had in thirteen years.”
“Oh, Connor.” Susanna flung her arms around him. Sometimes she forgot how hard his life had been during their years apart. “I’m sorry.”
His hand settled on the small of her back as he anchored her close. “You shouldn’t be, since the last present I got was also from you.” Not releasing her, he balanced the rifle across his knees, dug in his shirt pocket and pulled out a tattered playing card.
She took it from his hand. “The queen of clubs?”
“It’s from the pack you gave me for Christmas when I was fifteen. When the cards got too worn to use for gambling, I threw the rest away and only kept this.”
“The queen of hearts is supposed to be the symbol of love.”
“The queen of hearts was a blonde.” Connor retrieved the picture from her and carefully slipped it back into the pocket of his worn cotton shirt.
Under the Christmas tree, two silk shirts ordered from the Marshall Ward catalogue awaited for him. There would be a New Year’s dance in Cedar City, and Susanna wanted to show him off to the women who had sniggered at her when Connor had refused to come to the Harvest Festival with her.
Reaching into another pocket, Connor pulled out a small velvet box and handed it to her. “I have something for you too.”
Susanna flipped open the lid. Inside, she found a pendant on a gold chain. A circle, made of emeralds, and within the circle a star made of diamonds.”Circle Star,” she said in a breathless voice. “It’s beautiful.”
“I drew a picture of what I wanted and had the pendant made by a jeweler in St. Louis,” Connor explained. “Dr Jameson knows the owner of the store, and they did it as a rush job, so it would get here in time for Christmas.”
Now Susanna understood why Connor had remained so silent after he opened her gift. Emotions this powerful were hard to put into words. “Thank you,” she said, and knew the right time had come. “I have one more present for you. But it’s not ready yet.”
“Not ready?” Connor said with a smirk. “Your parents sure wasted their money on the art and craft lessons in that fancy school they sent you to.”
“It’s not a piece of needlework, or even a watercolor.” A small, secret smile hovered around her lips. “In fact, it’s not something I made alone. We made it together. I think it should be ready around the middle of July.”
Puzzled, Connor frowned at her. “Not ready until next summer?” Then understanding dawned. His mouth fell open in a soundless sign of surprise. “A baby?” he finally said. “You’re…we’re going to have a baby?”
Susanna nodded.
“Are you sure?” he asked, as if not daring to believe the news.
She gave another nod, firmer this time. “I thought it was a false alarm, but Carmen noticed the signs. I’m eating more, and I tire easily, and my waistline has expanded just a tiny bit.” She pressed a hand to her midriff. “I haven’t seen the doctor yet, but I’m pretty certain.”
Connor leaped up to his feet. Grabbing his wife by the waist, he hoisted her up and spun her around in a mad whirl that sent the furniture and the flames in the chimney and the Christmas tree whizzing around her.
“A baby,” he said, his voice as gentle as it once used to be.
“Let me down,” Susanna pleaded. “I’m getting dizzy.”
Connor halted his wild celebration. “Sorry…I didn’t think.” Holding her carefully, as if she were even more fragile than the glass ornaments in the Christmas tree, he lowered her back down on the sofa.
“I lost my family at eleven,” he said as he framed her face with his hands. “Now I’ll have one again.” His expression clouded. “What about my trip to San Francisco to spend the rest of my reward money on a Hereford bull. Is it still all right for me to go?”
Susanna let out an impatient huff. “Connor, the baby isn’t due for another six months. You can’t expect to sit by my side every blessed minute.”
He gave her an odd, guarded look. The fear Susanna had managed to suppress stirred inside her again. Connor had convinced her that Hartman wouldn’t dare to try anything, now that they were watching him. Hired killers were not easy to find, and if he employed another gunman, they might secure the evidence they needed.
And yet, she couldn’t feel completely at ease.
Hartman might back off for now.
But one day he would try again.
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Part Two
Claire
Chapter Seventeen
Claire Vanderfleet gathered her rustling skirts and climbed down the steps of the Pullman railroad car. After hailing a porter and issuing careful instructions about her collection of trunks, she stood still and surveyed the platform, her eyes darting about with eager fascination.
Tucson, Arizona! Southern Pacific Railroad had brought her this far. Now it was down to her own ingenuity to find further transport to Cedar City, and from there on to Circle Star. What a fine challenge that would be! Claire drew deep breaths, her skin tingling with excitement as she observed the lively scene around her.
Why, there was a man there, tall and lean, not much older than she, with a gun riding low at his hip. Claire’s curious gaze followed the man as he sauntered past.
The gunslinger noted her interest. A bold smile curved his lips. “Ma’am,” he said, and touched the brim of his hat.
Claire took a step back, startled by the unexpected familiarity. She looked away, a blush heating her cheeks. This was so wonderful! The western frontier! The edge of civilization! Her heart beat with such ferocity it almost made her dizzy. All her life, she’d yearned for adventure, and now she would have it.
Claire doubted Susanna knew about her arrival, but she went into the station office and asked anyway. She was right. No message awaited her. She hadn’t dared to telegraph, in case it allowed her parents to intercept her journey.
She hadn’t quite decided if she should tell Susanna that she had in fact run away from home.
From the station master, Claire learned that the Cedar City stagecoach left in one hour, which allowed her time to stroll up and down the street.
The sun felt like a living flame. It blinded her and scorched her skin. And the dust! Every time a horse trotted past, a thick cloud billowed up from the earth. Already, she suffered from a parched throat and stinging eyes.
The women along the street were few in number, and their gowns were out of date. Claire exhaled a small sigh of satisfaction. She would shine. Just as she always did.
When the station master bellowed instructions to board, Claire rushed back to the waiting stagecoach. She climbed up with the help of a rugged gentleman passenger and took her seat on the padded bench. Smiling at her fellow travelers, she settled by the window, ready for the adventure to truly begin.
By the time the stagecoach reached Cedar City, Claire had learned the impracticality of looking out of the window to admire the scenery. Every time she tried, a shower of grit from the cantering horses hit her in the face.
She’d also learned that solicitous fellow passengers could be a burden as much as a blessing. She tried to hide her impatience as she took her leave from the eager gentleman who kept insisting that she should visit him on his ranch.
It took her no time at all to discover that the only way to reach Circle Star was by hiring a man with a carriage. A carriage? It wasn’t a handsome barouche, nor was it like one of the hansom cabs on the streets of Philadelphia. Why, it was just a wooden platform, caked in mud, with a hard bench at the front, drawn by a single bored looking horse.
“Is there no other transport?” she inquired.
The gnarled old driver pushed his wad of tobacco into the other cheek and spoke in an almost incomprehensible drawl. “You could take a horse, if you know how to ride.”
Claire looked down her smart traveling gown. “Perhaps not today.” She lifted her chin, once again lamenting her short stature. People never took her seriously. “I can ride,” she assured the driver. “I’ll do that next time, when I don’t have luggage.”
The man nodded, sucking the tobacco lodged in his mouth. Claire wrinkled her nose. “Let’s get going,” she declared, and refused to let him help her up. From now on, she would look after herself, not be cosseted by servants or suitors.
****
The sun was low in the sky when Circle Star came into view. Claire held her breath as she surveyed the pink adobe house gilded by the slanting rays. The ranch was exactly as Susanna had described in her letters—a square fortress with a range of outbuildings across a gravel yard. On the far side, a pair of lean cowboys stood smoking in the shade of some spindly trees.
The cart pulled to a halt on the cobblestones by the entrance. Claire scrambled down, grateful for the journey to end. Her derriere ached from the hard bench and she had swallowed a bucketful of dust and the old man sitting beside her kept spewing out globules of tobacco juice that splattered on her skirts.
The front door flung open. A slim figure in denim pants and a cotton shirt rushed out, her long black braid swinging behind her.
“Claire! Oh, Claire, you came…”
“Susanna!”
Arms around each other, the two girls rocked on their feet. Claire’s hat tumbled down to the ground and the sun blinded her and perspiration glued her chemise to her skin, but she didn’t care. Every discomfort of the journey, every twinge of guilt over lying to her parents faded as she hugged her friend.
“Of course I came.” Her voice rasped with emotion. “You said you needed me.”
“Oh Claire, I have so much to tell you…”
The girls pulled apart. Susanna gave instructions to the driver about the luggage, and then she led Claire through a tiled hall into a cool parlor furnished with heavy, old fashioned pieces. A pretty dark maid bustled about, setting coffee and cakes on a low table in front of a sagging sofa.
Claire waited until the maid had retreated, and they had settled side by side on the sofa. Then she turned to her friend and spoke in a low voice.
“I’ve come to take you home.”
“Take me home?”
“Forget that horrible husband of yours—”
“Claire, I—”
“Come and live with us. My parents think you’re a good influence.”
“Claire, I…” Susanna gave a heavy sigh and seemed to shrink on the sofa. “Did you not get my last letter?”
“Your last letter?” Claire frowned. “I got the one where you told me how unbearable everything was, and how Connor was tormenting you…” Her words trailed away as she caught the guilty expression on Susanna’s face. “What is it? Tell me? Do you think he’ll not let you leave?” Claire darted a glance toward the open doorway. ““Where is he? Out tilling the fields?”
“It’s not fields out here. It’s cattle.”
“I know,” Claire replied. “Steers, I believe they’re called. I got a lesson in ranching from a man on the Cedar City stage. He simply wo
uld not stop talking.”
“Connor is in San Francisco.” Susanna leaned down to rearrange the display of cakes and cups on the table. “He’s gone to buy a bull for breeding.”
“Then you can get away before he returns.”
Giving up the pretence of being busy with hostess duties, Susanna turned around and took Claire’s hands in hers. “I’m sorry for causing you to worry. Connor and I have settled our differences.” Her face lit up. “I never knew it’s possible to be so happy. Even with my father gone, and my mother far away, I’m happier than I’ve ever been, and now that you are here, I’m even happier.”
“So,” Claire said slowly. “You don’t need rescuing…”
Susanna released her hands and settled more comfortably on the lumpy cushions. “You won’t believe what’s been happening.” She burst into a wild tale of how Connor had been shot, and how the two gunmen had taken Susanna hostage, and how Connor had killed the pair of them. “They were outlaws,” she finished. “Connor got a reward for killing them. That’s how he got the money to buy the Hereford bull he’s fetching from San Francisco.”
Claire knew her eyes were round and her mouth gaped open. Every nerve in her body tingled. Her heart was racing like one of the steam locomotives on the Southern Pacific Railroad. “It’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever heard,” she said in breathless awe. “Gunfights and outlaws.”
“The Arizona Territory is an exciting place,” Susanna said with an air of satisfaction as she reached over to pour coffee into the chipped china cups. “And there’s another reason why I’m grateful you are here.” Her voice softened. “Claire, I’m expecting a baby.”
“A baby?” Claire stared at Susanna’s flat belly.
“Don’t look so startled. Married people do things that result in babies.”
“Oh?” Claire abandoned the last shreds of discretion and asked the question that had burned on her mind every time she received a marriage proposal. “What is it like…doing your duty as a wife?”
Circle Star Page 21
