Morgan's Woman

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Morgan's Woman Page 24

by Judith E. French


  Dimitri nodded. "Exactly."

  Ash hardly heard a word. He was as jittery as a steer at a barbecue, and he couldn't take his eyes off Tamsin. There was so much he wanted to say to her, so much that they needed to settle as soon as they were alone together. But he couldn't be rude to Dimitri and his wife by refusing their hospitality after all they had done for Tamsin.

  Supper was steak, potatoes, and gravy, with homemade biscuits, and gingerbread for dessert, better food than he'd had in a month. He couldn't help noticing that Tamsin was pushing her food around her plate, barely nibbling at her meat. He supposed that the trial had made her as nervous as he was.

  Dimitri and Helen kept up the conversation during the meal, more than making up for Tamsin's unnatural quiet. Ash didn't say much either, but he managed to finish his gingerbread and hers, then washed it all down with two cups of strong black coffee.

  "Would you like to go walking with me, Tamsin?" he asked when they'd finished supper, and she folded her napkin and laid it on the table. As soon as they got outside, out of earshot of eavesdroppers, he meant to ask her to marry him. He even had Aunt Jane's wedding ring in his shirt pocket. He hoped it would fit her finger.

  Tamsin frowned. "I'm sorry," she said hesitantly. "I'm really feeling very tired. Perhaps in the morning-"

  Confused, he rose to his feet. "What do you mean in the morning? I've got-"

  She looked at Dimitri's wife and two spots burned red on her cheeks. "Mrs. Zajicek has kindly offered to share her bedchamber with me tonight."

  Dimitri laughed. "I'm afraid you'll have to bunk with me in the attached parlor, Ashton. There are so many people in town for the trial, the only other rooms available are those on the second floor of the Rooster."

  "Mr. Zajicek!" Helen admonished. "Sorry, my dear. My apologies, Mrs. MacGreggor," he replied with a chuckle.

  Tamsin shook her head. "No, don't apologize. After what you've done for me, nothing you could say would offend me."

  "Don't be too sure," his wife remarked. "My Mr. Zajicek can be quite rowdy when he's taken a nip. And I fear he's had more than one today."

  "Good night, Ash," Tamsin said. "I really am tired." She walked through the doorway into a narrow hallway lit by a curtainless window.

  He followed and grabbed her arm. "Why?" Ash demanded.

  Brilliant green eyes framed by thick lashes stared into his. "I'm telling you the truth, Ash. I'm not feeling well. And Mrs. Zajicek invited me to stay with her. What was I supposed to say? I'm sleeping with Ash Morgan? Announce to the whole town that no, I'm not a murderer, but I am a loose woman?" She pulled away. "We're not in the mountains anymore, are we? There is a code that good women live by, and… I may have strayed, but I've not fallen, Ash. I can't be that easy anymore."

  "Hell, I thought you and me…"What had come over her? She seemed a stranger, making him suddenly at a loss for words.

  "I'm not ungrateful for what you've done," she said. "I don't blame you for anything that happened. No one forced me to become intimate with you."

  "What are you talking about? You know what we have together, you and me."

  "No… I don't know. And that's what I have to think about." Flushing, she turned abruptly and started up the stairs.

  "Tamsin?"

  "Tomorrow."

  He didn't know whether to swear or go after her and kiss her. Having the charges dismissed should have made her happy… And if she wouldn't talk to him, how was he going to tell her that he wanted to marry her?

  "Women," he muttered. His arm was aching where the bullet had nicked him, and he was working on a hell of a headache. Damn if he wouldn't go back to the saloon and have a drink himself.

  Tamsin closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Her heart was beating rapidly, and she felt lightheaded. Either she was coming down with the ague or she really was with child.

  She went over to the bed and sat down. She'd hurt Ash, and she hadn't meant to. The moments of elation when the judge had dismissed her charges had given way to uncertainty.

  California seemed farther away than ever.

  Since her husband's death, her dream had kept her going. She'd been determined to prove wrong Lawyer Crawshaw and all the others who'd laughed at her.

  If she told Ash that she thought she was carrying his child, she knew that he'd take care of her, might even feel that it was his duty to marry her. She loved him, but that wasn't the way she wanted to start a marriage. And suppose she wasn't pregnant at all? Her body might simply be reacting to the ordeal she'd been through. Could she say to Ash later, "Well, I thought I was in the family way, but I'm not? Sorry, my mistake."

  He'd never promised her anything beyond what they had, wonderful memories that she would carry with her for the rest of her life. Forcing him into marriage by holding fatherhood over his head didn't seem to her to be the most sensible of plans.

  Could she simply ride away and give him up, loving him as much as she did? That was as bleak a thought as bearing a child without a father.

  Slowly, she unbuttoned the bodice of her black dress and pulled it over her head. Next she struggled with the cursed steel-hooped crinoline, removed two petticoats, her shoes, and her stockings, leaving her standing barefoot in a simple linen chemise and calf-length cotton drawers.

  All these fine garments were borrowed, too loose and too short in some places, too tight and confining in others. In truth, she had less now than when she'd come to Sweetwater. Her riding outfits, her spare clothing, and all of her personal possessions were lost. She had no money and no hope of earning more if she wished to reach California before winter snows blocked the passes.

  Mrs. Zajicek had offered her a loan and promised to secure her a place in a party that was leaving Denver for San Francisco. The older woman had assured her that there were two respectable ladies traveling with their husbands and small children.

  One lady, a Mrs. Tourtillott, had expressed a desire to find a woman of good character to help her with her little ones on the arduous journey. Mrs. Zajicek felt certain that with her personal recommendation, Tamsin could have the position.

  The thought of being in Helen and Dimitri's debt was depressing, yet Ash had already promised to supply Dimitri's expenses in defending her. That amount must certainly be repaid.

  She had known Ash Morgan for a matter of weeks, not months or years. When she'd proved herself to be such a poor judge of men in the past, could she surrender all her dreams for a man who was a virtual stranger? Throw herself on his mercy simply because she thought she was in love? Would she have felt the same way about Ash if he'd simply come courting her in a yellow-wheeled buggy? Or if he was a grocer rather than a dashing bounty hunter?

  The unease in her belly passed, but her mind would not stop churning. She forced herself to drink a glass of water and brushed and braided her hair. It was barely dusk through the dusty window when she climbed into bed, determined not to shed tears over her hapless state. In the morning, when this day was behind her, she would make a decision about Ash Morgan and her own future.

  In the morning, she promised herself.

  "The hell you will!" Ash said. It was nearly noon the following day, and Tamsin was mounted on her chestnut mare with the Appaloosa and stallion in tow. Ash had followed her out of Sweetwater onto the Denver road after a late breakfast with Dimitri and his wife.

  Tamsin hadn't been out of sight of the town when she'd announced that she was joining a wagon train to San Francisco.

  "Who's going to stop me?"

  "I am." He reined Shiloh so close to Fancy that his duster brushed Tamsin's skirt. "You're not going anywhere without me."

  She threw him a look that would have soured milk. "I think I'm in love with you," she said.

  "You do? Well, that makes sense. You're in love with me. I'm about to ask you to marry me, and you're running away."

  Her eyes widened in surprise. "Marriage? With you?"

  "Hell, no, not with me! With my horse. What's wrong with you? Have y
ou lost what sense you have? I'm asking you to be my wife."

  She clicked the chestnut into a trot. "It's an odd way to ask a lady, I must say." Her chin firmed. "You've said nothing about love."

  He snatched off his hat and threw it onto the ground in disgust. "Damn it, woman, it's not a thing I should have to say. You ought to know how I feel about you."

  "Should I? A gentleman would make himself perfectly clear."

  Feeling foolish, he circled Shiloh and scooped up his hat. "You think I'm just going to let you ride out of my life? After you shot Jack Cannon to save me?"

  "Not out of your life." She pulled up her mount. "This is too sudden, Ash, too fast for either of us. I'll be in San Francisco. I want you to think about this for a few months, then if you still want me, you can write to me in care of general delivery, and-"

  "That does it." Jabbing his heels into his gelding's sides, he guided the horse close to Tamsin and lifted her out of the saddle.

  "Stop! Put me down," she protested as he dragged her up in front of him.

  He stilled her thrashing with a sound kiss.

  "Marry me, Tamsin," he whispered when they came up for air. "Marry me and take me to California with you."

  "Do… do you mean it?" she stammered. "Do you really love me?"

  He kissed her again, and her arms went around his neck so tightly that he could hardly breathe.

  "What will you do in California?"

  "Build you that damn horse ranch you're always clamoring about. Surely you can find work for a halfway decent wrangler on it."

  "How do I know you'd make a good wrangler?"

  "I rode that Satan-born imp of yours, didn't I?"

  "That was downhill in a rock slide and later when people were shooting at him. Dancer was too frightened to put his best effort into getting rid of you."

  "He seemed to try."

  "Maybe," she admitted. "But I won't have any ranch, not for years. I'm broke. I don't have anything but these three horses and…"

  "Tamsin MacGreggor, will you never shut up. I've got enough for both of us."

  "What?"

  Shiloh came to an abrupt halt, and he swung down out of the saddle and lifted her down. "Look in my saddlebag."

  "In your saddlebag?" she repeated. "Are you deaf as well as addled?" He yanked open the leather pouch and filled her hands with certificates of deposit. "I never expected to live long enough to settle down, but I saved what I made, just in case. The reward for the Cannon brothers will pay our way to California, and this should buy your precious land."

  "You're serious?" She swayed against him, and he held her so that her red-gold hair tickled his face and he could smell her fresh, sweet scent.

  "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Mrs. MacGreggor, and I'm not dumb enough to let you get a mile away, let alone to California."

  "You really love me?" He chuckled. "What have I been saying?"

  "I'm not sure. What have you been saying?"

  "You're not letting me out of this, are you?" He smiled at her. "I love you, Tamsin MacGreggor. Love you with all my heart and soul. I should have known it sooner, but I never claimed to be the smartest man west of the Mississippi."

  "Will you still love me tomorrow and the day after that?"

  "I'll love you as long as the sun rises in the east, woman. And if it doesn't, I'll love you just the same."

  "All right," she answered softly. "I'll make you a deal. If you can ride Dancer back to Denver without him throwing you into the dirt, I'll marry you."

  "I'd ride the devil's wind for you."

  "Then I'd best be your wife, for I'm not likely to get an offer like that from a finer man."

  "You'd better make your vows with me," he answered. "I intend for you to be carrying our first child by the time we get to San Francisco."

  "I think I can promise that." And then she rose on her toes and kissed him, and he stopped thinking of anything but the woman in his arms, the woman he meant to love and cherish for the rest of this life and into the next.

  Epilogue

  California

  Autumn 1876

  The two outlaws tied their ponies and crawled on their bellies toward the corral beside the main stock barn on Tamsin's Hope. "Keep your head down," the first desperado said. "He's fast on the draw."

  "Not fast enough," his comrade hissed. Ash's back was to the fence, his attention focused on the bay colt. On the far side of the pound, the chestnut mare laid back her ears and gave an anxious whinny. The foal responded with a high-pitched squeal.

  "Easy, Cheyenne," Ash soothed. He stroked the colt's velvety nose, ran his hand up to scratch behind the twitching ears, and buckled the halter. "You be quiet, too, Fancy. Nobody's going to hurt your new baby."

  The little bay laid back his ears, quivered all over, and sneezed. Then he raised one dainty front hoof and pawed the ground.

  "Shh," Ash murmured as he offered the colt a piece of apple. "By next week you won't even notice you're wearing a halter." He released the lead line, and the little horse ran to his mother and began to nurse.

  "Go for your gun, bounty hunter!" the younger pistolero shouted.

  "Give us all your horses and all your gold!" his amigo demanded.

  Ash turned. His eyes narrowed as he stared into the green eyes of the outlaw leader. "I've been looking for you two for a long time."

  "Yeah?" the smaller, dark-haired bandit said cockily. "Well, we been trailin' you, too, bounty hunter."

  "You gonna draw, big man?" his redheaded partner said. "Or are you-"

  Ash laughed as a hand closed on the redhead's collar.

  "Mama!" David's eyes widened in surprise, and he dropped the fishing pole he'd been using for a rifle.

  The littler criminal threw his pole, turned to make his getaway, and gasped as Tamsin grabbed him by the seat of his baggy trousers. His broad-brimmed sombrero slid back revealing big brown eyes, a freckled nose, and a dimple on his chin.

  "Were you going someplace, Jared?" she asked.

  "Hi, Mama."

  "We were just foolin'-" the nine-year-old protested.

  "Playing bounty hunter with Daddy," his younger brother chimed in.

  "What have I told you about violence?" Tamsin asked.

  "We didn't have a real gun. Just fishing poles. Daddy was-"

  Ash shook his head as he climbed over the corral fence and joined Tamsin. "Don't you boys drag me into this. Where were you two when we were ready for church this morning?"

  Jared flushed and kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. "David said the fish were biting."

  "So you two went fishing instead of going to church with your mama and me?" Ash asked.

  "Yes, Daddy," David admitted sheepishly.

  "Umm-humm," Jared agreed. "But we caught fish for dinner."

  "Enormous fish," his brother said. "I thought that's where you might have gone when I found holes in my flower bed," Tamsin observed.

  "We needed big worms, Mama," Jared explained. "Big worms live in your flower beds."

  "Lucky for you two there's going to be a special service this evening," Ash said. "Reverend Graham and his wife offered to pick the two of you up and take you to church with them."

  "But Daddy, you promised we could ride out to the north pasture with you and bring in Dancer and the mares." David looked hopeful. "I'm awful sorry we missed church this morning, but next Sunday-"

  "Next Sunday we'll be in our usual pew as a family," Tamsin said. She released her prisoners. "I want those ponies curried and turned into their stalls, and then-"

  "Then the two of you can take the fish in to Maria, eat the cold dinner your mother left on the table for you, and help Maria wash the dishes," Ash finished. "Baths for both of you."

  "Put on your church clothes, and you may read until it's time to go with the reverend," Tamsin said.

  David sighed. "But where are you and Mama going?"

  "We'll just go and get the horses ourselves. Now, you heard your mother! Get!
And take Sam Houston with you. That fool cat has been after your mother's canary all morning. Next time you run off, take him with you."

  Shoulders slumped, heads down, the little bandits trudged off to fetch their ponies. The big orange-and-white tomcat trotted after them, tail flicking back and forth.

  Ash put an arm around Tamsin's shoulders and chuckled. "Rascals, both of them."

  "All three," she said. "Sam Houston climbed up my lace curtains and left a dead mole on the back step."

  Ash rubbed his face in Tamsin's hair. "Don't be too hard on Sam Houston. He's just keeping critters out of your flower garden." He tilted her chin and looked into her eyes. "Sure you wouldn't rather go to services than round up horses with me? We've got enough wranglers on this ranch."

  She smiled up at him. "And Sunday's their day off. What if they want to go to church? Besides, I think I like riding off with you into the sunset. We could pack a little supper-"

  "And a blanket," he added.

  "I remember what happened the last time I went picnicking alone with you." She patted her rounding belly. "Another Morgan."

  "Maybe it will be a girl this time."

  "I'd like that," she said softly. "But I wouldn't mind another boy either. I've grown quite fond of my three men."

  Ash glanced up toward the sprawling adobe ranch house sheltered beneath the flowering trees. "We've done all right for ourselves in California, haven't we, woman?"

  "I've done all right since I met you," she replied.

  "You just say that because it's true," he teased, then raised her chin and kissed her tenderly.

  "I love you, Ash Morgan," she whispered.

  "And I love you, Tamsin Morgan."

  The bay colt whinnied, and Tamsin laughed softly. "You're certain you don't miss your old life," she murmured. "Free as the wind, riding wherever your fancy takes you?"

  "Bad joke," he said. "More like wherever your Dancer takes me."

  "Sorry." She grimaced. "It was the best one I could think of at the moment."

  He pushed the brim of his hat up. "Mrs. Morgan, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

 

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