Mr. Williams stood beside the wagon, scuffing his boot in the dirt. When he saw her approaching, he whipped off his hat. “Ma’am.”
“You might as well call me Charity, don’t you think?” She gave him a shaky smile.
“And you can call me Gabriel, or Gabe. I answer to both.” He held out his hand to help her into the seat. “I left the young’uns at the boarding house. Thought we could get hitched in private then pick them up on our way out.” His gaze searched her face.
Charity swallowed past the boulder in her throat, and turned her head. “Certainly.” How could she do this? She didn’t know the man. Maybe he was a scoundrel, or a gambler, or a secret drunk. Lord, help her. She twisted her hands in her lap.
Gabe clicked to the horses, and they moved toward a two-story, clapboard building at the end of the street. “I’ve got the preacher expecting us, and the innkeeper and his wife will stand in for our witnesses.”
“That’s fine.” Her stomach rolled, and it took every ounce of willpower Charity possessed not to lose the stale biscuit she’d eaten for breakfast.
“There’s something I ought to tell you.” Gabe pulled the wagon in front of the building. “I’ll understand if you change your mind.”
Charity searched his face. Bright spots of color dotted his cheeks beneath his hat. “What is it, Mr. Williams?”
He faced her. “You seem a mite skittish. There’s no reason to be, really. I plan on this being a marriage in name only.”
“You plan on it being so?” The man had a lot of nerve. Didn’t Charity’s feelings count for anything?
“Well,” he removed his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m needing someone to watch my young’uns while I finish building the ranch. At the end of a year, next spring, actually, we’ll get an annulment, and you’ll be free to go along your way.”
“And how will I benefit from this arrangement, Mr. Williams?” Charity blinked and ducked her head against the tears threatening to swell over. She should’ve known the man wouldn’t want her for her sake alone. No, the only ones interested in Charity as a real wife were the ones she wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot log. And all they wanted was someone to warm their beds.
Marriage to Mr. Williams would provide food on the table, a roof over her head, and, if she were lucky, a few snatched moments of peace once in a while to look for gold. There were worse things in the world than marriage to such a strapping man.
“Please call me Gabriel or Gabe. I’ll compensate you well for your time. If nothing else, we can be friends.”
“If that’s what you want, Mr. Williams.” Friends! Despite her willingness to wed the man, anger over his casual treatment of marriage replaced pain, and Charity clutched her reticule in order to keep herself from whacking the dolt upside the head.
Gabe climbed down and helped her off the seat. He ushered her through the parlor and upstairs where he knocked on a door. A portly, balding man opened the door, and Gabriel dragged Charity inside. If she ever got over her rattled nerves, she might have to work on her new husband’s manners first thing.
“Reverend, we’d like to be married.” Gabriel removed his black felt hat. “I know you’re leaving town this morning, so we’d like to do it now.”
“We’ll need two witnesses.” The Reverend removed a small black book from a nightstand.
Gabriel nodded. “I’ll be right back.” He dashed out the door, his heels pounding on the wooden floors.
She fiddled with her reticule. Not the wedding she’d imagined as a little girl. But, she’d said yes, and Charity Rose O’Connell did not go back on her word. Then why was her stomach in knots?
She avoided the eyes of the preacher who clutched his worn Bible in front of him like a shield. The room contained a cot, a wash basin, and a chipped night stand. Faded calico curtains fluttered like a wounded butterfly in a tepid breeze. Not exactly a fancy place to stay, but it looked clean.
She sagged with relief when Gabriel returned with the witnesses. Gabriel stood beside her, took her hand in his large callused one and stood rigid as the preacher read them their vows. That over, Gabe laid a chaste kiss on her cheek that left a heated mark as strong as a branding iron. Charity cupped her cheek.
Grabbing her arm, Gabe practically dragged her out of the room. So much for Charity’s first kiss.
*
Gabe knew he had hurt Charity’s feelings with his announcement of a name-only marriage. He supposed he should’ve mentioned it the night before when he asked her to marry him, but he plain didn’t think about it. He’d already wasted two days in town and there was no one else to look after the stock but him. If only he hadn’t made that stupid wager with Amos Jenkins. Nothing had gone right since. Gabe wasn’t normally a gambling man. If Amos hadn’t riled him, he probably wouldn’t be dragging along a feisty Irish gal to be a mother to his children.
Oh, yeah. He hadn’t missed the fire in her green eyes when he mentioned them being friends. She hadn’t seemed too thrilled about the future annulment either. Well, they hardly knew each other. What did the woman think?
He glanced down at her set jaw and narrowed eyes. What’d he do? She was riled again, and they hadn’t even left for home.
He only hoped life wouldn’t be too interesting with the red-haired gal around. He had work to do and couldn’t afford the distractions of a pretty face. Time was ticking, and every day presented Gabe with a new challenge of meeting the terms of Amos’s stupid bet.
Gabe led his group to the wagon and headed toward home. Charity sat beside him like she had a pine trunk stuck down the back of her dress.
Gabe glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Something troubling you?”
“I’d like to collect my things, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” she said.
“Of course.” Addlebrained! He should’ve known she’d want to stop for her things. Gabe eyed the sun rising in the sky. It’d be late afternoon before they got home at this rate.
“You needn’t sigh. I don’t have much.” She clenched her fists in her lap.
“It’s no problem.” He stopped in front of her tent. “You want me to get everything?”
“Everything but the tent itself. That’s rented.” Charity allowed him to swing her from the seat. His hands spanned her waist. Their gazes met for a minute, and Gabe tried desperately to work up moisture for his dry mouth.
A sprinkling of freckles dotted skin so pale he swore he could see the veins. Eyes that sparkled with gold flecks stared into his. Lips the color of pink roses trembled over a rounded chin and begged to be kissed. It’d been two years since a woman shared his roof. The thought slammed into Gabe like a bullet. The decision to marry might turn out worse than the wager against his land.
He released her and ducked inside the tent faster than a cat with its tail on fire. Hoisting her trunk on his shoulders, he headed back out and added her things to his own supplies. Several trips later, he stowed the last of her possessions.
“Gabriel Williams.”
Gabe stiffened. Minutes away from escape. He turned with all the joy of a man led to a hanging.
Amos Jenkins sauntered up the road, mouth full with a chaw of tobacco. He spit, barely missing the toe of Gabe’s boots. “Where you headed?”
“Ought not to be too hard to figure we’re headed home.” Gabe marched to the front of the wagon.
“Who’s the woman?”
Gabe took a deep breath and turned to face him. “This is my wife.”
Amos gave a wheezing laugh. “You got hitched? It won’t do any good against our bet. I’ll still own your land when the year is gone, unless you want to up our wager.”
Charity whirled. Her face paled. “You’re a gambling man?”
*
Her worst fear stared her in the face, then her new husband turned away, guilt marring his features. Seemed the man was more full of secrets than a politician’s mistress.
Glancing around the group, she noted the curious faces of the
children. Her heart wrenched. How could she protect them from the childhood she’d suffered? She sagged against the wagon. She could annul immediately, but she’d married Gabe knowing they’d part in a year. How could she go back on her word now? There was no way, in good conscience, she could leave the children to the same circumstances surrounding her own childhood.
Her gaze met Gabe’s for a second before she turned away. She’d thought there might be something between them when he’d helped her from the wagon and his hands lingered at her waist. But there couldn’t be. She wouldn’t go through what her mama did before she died. Da promised repeatedly to stop gambling, to no avail. Charity vowed not to let the same thing happen to her.
It wasn’t that Da didn’t love her, he did. But he’d always told her that her sharp tongue would keep a man from wedding her, no matter how comely her face. That’d been the case until Virginia City. Then every mongrel within sight had come knocking. Now, she found a man she could enjoy seeing across the breakfast table, and he turns out to be exactly like the others.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened. She’d make do for the time agreed upon. While Gabe worked the ranch, she’d take care of his home and children and dig for gold when she could. Somehow, someday, Charity would never have to rely on a man again and fulfill her Da’s wish of striking gold at the same time.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir, but I’m afraid we must be getting home.” Charity hoisted her skirts and climbed into the wagon unassisted. “God’s blessing on you.”
Gabe looked taken aback but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he launched himself beside her and headed them out of town.
Silence stretched as long as the road in front of them. Meg leaned across the seat and swiveled her head from Charity to Gabe to Charity again. What must be going through the child’s mind?
“I need to go to the necessary, Pa.”
“Can’t you wait awhile longer? We’re not even halfway yet.” Gabe frowned.
“No. We were at Ma’s place a long time.”
Ma? Mercy. Charity had no idea how to be a mother. She should’ve thought things through a bit more. A gambling husband and two children and her not even married a full day yet. Her stomach threatened again.
Gabe stopped the wagon. At this rate, they’d travel all day. “Charity, would you mind taking her into the bushes?”
“What?” Charity eyed the thick brush. Any manner of creature could be lurking in there. Give her the open land of Ireland any time. At least a person could see what was sneaking up on you.
“I don’t like her going by herself.” Gabe’s tone left no room for argument. “Couldn’t be helped before, but now she’s got you.”
Charity climbed unsteadily from the wagon and waited for Meg. Sam swung over the side and dashed out of sight. Meg followed. Well, why couldn’t he have taken his sister? Charity lifted her dress high enough to keep from snagging it in the brambles and shuffled after them.
“Meg? Sam?” Bushes rustled and Charity jerked. “Where are you?”
Meg popped up. “Shhh. You make too much noise.” She ducked back down behind a thick bush.
“What are you afraid of?” Sam appeared at Charity’s elbow. “Pa told me how you saved Meg from a horse. Ain’t nothing out here that big.”
Charity clasped a hand to her throat. “Saints alive, child! You scared ten years off me. Besides, horses don’t eat people.”
“You’re funny.” Sam raced back to the wagon.
Meg finished her business and tucked her hand in Charity’s. “I think I’m going to like you being my new ma, even if you do talk strange.”
Charity’s heart warmed at the little girl’s words. Hopefully, Charity was cut out to be a mother, strange words and all.
*
Amos leaned back in his leather chair and folded his ankles on top of his polished oak desk. He rolled an unlit cigarette between his fingers. So, Gabe got himself hitched again.
It wouldn’t do him any good. He’d still lose his land, and most likely his new bride along with it. The man had already proved he couldn’t keep a woman alive in Montana.
Amos tightened his fingers, snapping the cigarette. Growling, he tossed it in the waste receptacle at his feet. Amos had seen the pretty Irish gal around town, even thought once or twice about making her acquaintance. Pity she married Gabe. Doing so only put her in harm’s way. Amos would have rather left her out of things.
He settled the chair back on all four legs and moved to the window where his ranch stretched out before him in a glorious display of green grass, wildflowers, and fat cattle. A successful ranch. The only thing lacking was a creek and a family. Both of which he intended to rectify within a year.
3
Charity clutched her stomach. What she’d originally thought was a lush green hill turned out to be her new home. It made her stone cottage in Ireland look like a mansion. A wooden door and a window with paper tacked over the opening comprised the front.
To her right sat a barn, glorious in comparison to the hovel Gabriel seemed so pleased about, judging by the grin on his face. A garden, surrounded by a split-rail fence, sat off to the east. She could imagine dipping her feet into a creek that bubbled about fifty yards away, and thanked the Lord she wouldn’t have far to cart water. Trees dotted the landscape. A beautiful place, except for the hole in the ground that would be her home.
She accepted Gabriel’s hand and allowed him to help her down, then pulled away as soon as possible. No sense dwelling on the heat of his skin against hers, or how safe his size made her. Her new husband made it quite clear they’d share a space for a year and no more.
Sam ran ahead and opened the door, Meg on his heels.
With head held high, Charity stepped inside her new home, and wilted. Little light came through the window. A wood stove occupied a corner of the one room. At least she wouldn’t have to cook over an open fire. A wooden table with two benches took up the center of the space. Shelves with canned goods ran along the walls. Was that a bug scurrying across the packed dirt? Beneath the cans, clothing hung on hooks along walls covered with old newspapers. A tattered quilt separated two beds. Charity would bet her stockings that the mattresses were filled with straw. She’d give almost anything to sleep on goose feathers. Except, Charity didn’t gamble. Mercy, she wasn’t one to think above her lot in life, but she’d expected a bit more than this.
She stepped aside and let Gabe squeeze past with her trunk. He set it next to one of the beds. “I’ll set up your cot and string another blanket. You and Meg can share this space, Sam and I will share the other.”
“That’ll be fine. Thank you.” She opened the cedar chest and pulled out her best apron. A navy blue with ruffles along the hem. She’d get to work fixing supper. Tomorrow, she’d come up with a plan to spruce the place up a bit. Just because they lived in a hole like rabbits didn’t mean they couldn’t have a few nice things around them.
Once Gabe set the rest of things inside, he planted his hands on his hips. “Ain’t much, but it’s home. Figure you can add a woman’s touch. Whatever you want is fine by me.” He nodded, motioned for Sam to follow him, and ducked out the door.
“For sure, the man just hired a servant.” What she wanted was a floor other than dirt and at least one glass window.
Charity yanked the tie behind her back into a bow. Why should the thought bother her? This way, there’d be no pawing when she was tired at the end of the day. She’d seen how her Mama barely tolerated Da’s touch after a while. Of course, that could’ve been the whiskey on his breath. Still, Charity missed him. He’d loved his only child.
She stomped over to the shelf of canned goods. Most looked to be over a year old. Probably put up by his late wife. Charity sighed. She’d have to can, too, if they wanted to eat through the winter. No wonder the man wanted a wife.
By the time Gabe and Sam returned, Charity had set the table with her own tin blue dishes, biscuits wrapped in an embroidered towel nestled in a wooden bowl, a
nd the luxury of a new candle stuck out of a jar. She ladled ham and beans onto each plate and stood back to see how the food was received.
“Sit, please.” Gabe waved his fork. “No need to stand over our shoulders while we eat.”
Charity raised her eyebrows. Da always wanted her to wait a few minutes to see whether he wanted something else. Eating while the food was hot was a rare treat. “Thank you.”
“Candle is a nice touch.”
She speared him with a glance. “It is my wedding supper after all.” The dolt.
He jerked and locked gazes with her.
Lifting her fork, Charity gave him the sweetest smile she could muster.
*
Gabe toed off his boots, unhooked his suspenders and let his pants fall, and then climbed beneath the blanket with Sam. His son immediately curled into him. Gabriel chuckled. No sense in fooling himself. He’d rather it were Charity beside him, thorns and all. But there wasn’t any sense liking a gal that wouldn’t be around long, or one with claws.
She’d seemed downright annoyed at supper. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. Seemed he’d been aggravating her all day. He’d been upfront with her about the marriage conditions. It couldn’t be the fact they didn’t share a bed that had her riled, could it? Maggie hadn’t cared much for that part of marriage.
Lord, I’m a fool. But you promise to look out for the foolish, of which I’m king. Gabe cursed his impulsive nature. Should’ve left things alone. But the sight of emerald eyes over a stack of paper wrapped parcels had left him addled. Then, she’d darted into the road after Meg, and cinched the thought.
He’d loved Maggie, no denying it, but their love hadn’t been the heart-stampeding, word-stumbling emotion he might be able to feel around Charity. Obviously, he’d been without a wife too long. He shouldn’t be having these feelings after only a day. But she shore was pretty, and her foot-stomping made him laugh inside.
Woman of Courage (Four Full length Historical Christian Romances in One Volume): Woman of Courage Series Page 47
