by Linda Broday
“Let ’em try. Let’s get married right now, this very day.”
“Spit and thunder, you’re not in any hurry, are you?”
“I’ll make an honest woman of you,” he growled. “My name hanging on the end of yours will solve most problems. They’ll think twice before opening their big mouths.” At least folks would know who looked out for her. “Anything else?”
Sweet Jezzie, he prayed not. Her naked body was doing things beyond his control. No telling what would happen if he denied the urge much longer. He inched a finger up and down her long legs in sensual, tiny circles. He yearned to fill every lonely nook and cranny inside this beautiful lady with his love.
“Just one more thing. This honest woman business…I can’t build a life on lies.”
“Then it’s about time you went home.” His grin came from the place where old memories died and new ones were born. “To make it perfectly clear…you’re accepting my proposal?”
“Aye, aye, Sir Pirate.” Laurel ruffled the hair on his neck and drew him near. Her throaty whisper made him tremble. A little thing he predicted would never change. “I love you, Brodie Yates. Don’t you be forgetting it.”
“I’m sure you’ll remind me a few thousand times.”
“We’ve spent a lifetime thinking of what might have been. I prefer focusing on bright tomorrows, not to mention moonlit nights we’ll share.”
“Umm, moonmist. Knew that scent was familiar.”
Laurel slid from beneath the nuzzling assault on her neck.
“You said that was the musky aroma of moonbeams bathing an aroused woman. Impossible in broad daylight.”
He massaged the tips of her breasts between forefinger and thumb. “You certain?”
“Adeline…Hannah…” Her breathless words trailed.
“They can wait.”
Several hours later Laurel wiggled into the saddle atop Smokey. Adeline and Hannah rode in the buggy. A horde of flutters whipped her stomach into froth.
“Thought you learned what happens to little girls who insist on rubbing a man the right way.” Snake rattles on his worn Stetson hissed. Brodie looped the reins around the horn and wrapped her in the security of his arms.
“What will I say to my family?”
“The truth. Quit worrying. I’m right here with you.”
Miles passed until at last they wound down the lane through tall sycamore and pine. Rounding the last bend, Laurel glimpsed the house. Adeline and Hannah climbed from the buggy. Blue Boy abandoned the porch, racing for her.
She slid from the saddle and ran to meet the dog. “Blue, I’ve brought someone special. This is Brodie.”
Brodie dismounted and rubbed the dog’s droopy ears. “Hey, fella.”
“Everyone, look who I found,” Hannah said.
A woman stepped onto the porch, shielding her eyes from the sun. Laurel slipped her palm inside Brodie’s.
“Saints be praised. Hannah, you gave us such a fright when you disappeared. I saw it happening all over again.”
“Two men abducted me, but Laurel fought them. It’s her, Mama.”
“Laurel? Our Laurel?”
Brodie gave Laurel’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Yes, it’s me, Mama.”
“Hannah, get your papa from the barn.” Tears streamed down the aged face Laurel had so often dreamed about. Mary James gathered her lost daughter close. “I can’t believe it, child.”
Laurel had tears as well. “Many nights I laid awake, my soul dying bit by bit, willing myself back here. Now I am.”
“Baby girl, rest on my shoulder. Soak up all the love I saved special for you. Everything’s right as rain now.”
Long-deprived senses soaked up the aromas of vanilla and fresh-baked bread. She had come to the birthplace of her roots. She snuggled into the soft haven, barely aware of footsteps.
“Laurel?”
Strain lingered in her father’s question. Dread lodged like a week-old biscuit in her throat. She pulled from her mother’s arms. Where had Brodie gone? She couldn’t face the stern disapproval alone. But Brodie had disappeared.
Raising her chin, she met her father. “I’m home, Papa.”
Ben James hugged her. “All these years and here you are.”
The stripes of his bibbed overalls blurred.
They accepted her, just as Ollie had vowed. So far.
“Your face, child. What happened?” Work-roughened fingers touched her wet cheek.
“It’s a long story, Papa. A wise woman once said a person without scars never fought for anything they believed in. I’m happy to say I’m home because I stood fast and won.”
“You should’ve seen my sister,” Hannah seconded. “Without her courage, I’d be bound for Missouri right now.”
Laurel spotted her love, standing apart from the rest wearing a lop-sided smile. She tugged him forward. “This is Brodie Yates. He asked me to marry him.” She turned to Adeline. “And show Adeline Cade a warm welcome. Our family just got larger.”
“Lordy. Not only do we get our Laurel back, but we have another son. And a new daughter, to boot.” Ben slapped Brodie’s back. “Thank you for watching over my little girl.”
“Don’t give me credit. Miss Olivia Applejack b’Dam had the honor, Mr. James.”
“Plain old Ben, that’s what everyone calls me. That Olivia sure has a fanciful name. I’ll have to ride back and meet her.”
Hotness lurked behind Laurel’s lids. “Ollie’s a little busy polishing a halo and trying to be as good an angel in heaven as she was on earth. We laid her to rest a few days ago.”
“I would like to have known her,” Mary murmured.
“She’s watching and grinning from ear to ear.”
Brodie draped an arm around her. “That she is.”
“Hey, sis. Glad you found the way back,” Quaid said.
“Us, too,” chimed the rest of her siblings.
“I’m waiting for that long story, girl. Let’s go inside.”
“I’ll make some lemonade.” Mary James rushed up the porch.
Brodie’s hand prevented Laurel following. She couldn’t conceal panic in the gaze she favored him with. The shaky footing wouldn’t become solid without his help. He couldn’t back out.
“Aren’t you coming?”
He brushed her jaw. “I have some business in Jefferson while you visit with your folks. Don’t worry, I’m not about to let you out of my sight for long.”
“Is it wise? The general might believe Taft.”
“Not a chance. Shoot, that forged signature of Andrew Johnson almost convinced me.” His soft kiss held desire and promise. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I can’t bear us to part. Silly of me, huh?”
“I’m glad. I’ll bring a surprise.”
“Something sneaky up your sleeve?”
“Who, me? I’ll never tell.” Grinning, he untied Smokey.
Keeping an anxious eye out the window, she bared the whole ugly mess since that fateful day, including how Ollie helped her escape. Hannah filled in the ending, which allowed Laurel to give the shady lane her undivided attention. No sign of Brodie.
“You should’ve left that low-down scum to us. We’d show him what happens when you hurt a James,” Jeremiah proclaimed.
“I hope he has to live with nasty pigs,” Millie said.
Mary James held Laurel’s hand as if afraid she’d disappear.
Ben James blew into a faded kerchief. “I failed in my duty.”
Through a misty haze, she stared at the love and harmony in the faces that surrounded her. Grief had aged her father and mother beyond rightful years. She despised Taft more for that than anything.
“Stop blaming yourself, Papa,” she said. “The man is getting his due. We can’t go back and undo what happened.” Her
glance encompassed them all. “Hope that I’d see you again sustained me through all the dark times. And yet, shame kept me away after Ollie freed me. I was afraid you’d think badly of me.”
“Don’t be ashamed of anything, Sis,” Virgil’s voice broke.
“Amen,” her papa agreed.
Blue Boy’s pitiful howl appeared to add agreement.
Twilight had turned the sky orange and purple by the time Laurel heard the big Appaloosa. A dignified stranger riding abreast of Brodie drew frowns. Perhaps the man had turned down the lane by mistake.
She flew into Brodie’s arms the minute he swung from the saddle, not caring that people watched. Worrying about proper things tuckered a body out. She’d learned not to waste good time. Folks would think what they wished anyway.
This man was hers.
No reason to hide the love she’d almost lost.
“You’re back.”
Need reflected in the rebel grays made her pulse race. He planted a long kiss, letting her know he could assume a pirate’s plundering duties in the wink of an eye. Her knees went weak. She leaned against Smokey for support when he released her to reach into a saddle bag for a mysterious bundle.
“Did you bring a guest?” Laurel asked.
A tall, reed-like man in a frock coat tied his horse.
“Reverend Thompson has agreed to wed us tonight. I didn’t think you’d fuss about having the ceremony with your family.”
“Tonight? I somehow pictured myself in a grand gown.”
“What’s going on?” Ben James rose from his favorite roost, wood shavings falling from his lap.
“A wedding, Papa.”
Mary James beamed. “Land’s sakes! This calls for a feast. Don’t know what I’ll scratch up befitting the occasion, but I’ll scare up something. Girls, come and help me throw it together.”
Adeline, Hannah, Millie, and Mama scurried into the house, chattering like magpies.
“Reverend, I don’t entertain often, but I’m a real good listener. Ever whittle?” Her father offered a chair.
Laurel’s attention never wavered from Brodie.
He was a gunslinger.
And a scoundrel.
But the man kept a length of lace next to his heart, and she loved him with every fiber of her being.
“Darn Ollie. She couldn’t have waited just a few more days.” Unshed tears clogged her throat. She plucked at the string securing the package he clutched. “It would make this perfect.”
“I don’t have the power to bring her back.” His husky voice cracked. “But I did fetch something else.”
“The preacher, and whatever that is you’re holding.”
“Always mean what I say and say what I mean.” Unspoken promises hung heavy in the swamp breeze.
Deliriously happy, Laurel floated. “Fork over that gift or I’ll sic Blue Boy on you.”
Brodie’s twinkle shifted. “He’s mighty vicious, all right.”
Accepting his elbow, Laurel navigated the steps in a trance, unable to take her eyes from the lines and crevices that added character. Each one told of the many roads he’d traveled in order to get where he was.
“Still waters run deep,” Ollie had once remarked.
Laurel couldn’t wait to begin exploring things she’d only begun to learn.
Brodie poked his head into the midst of a lot of pots and pans banging. “Mrs. James, I’d be obliged if you’d suggest a place for a moment’s privacy.”
“Use my bedroom, son. It’s safest from interruption.”
Laurel took his hand. “I’ll show you.”
Safe from prying eyes, he placed the gift in her hands. She ripped off the brown paper. Rich folds of a beautiful dress unfurled. Thickness rose in her throat.
“My darling husband, you truly amaze me.”
“Every bride should have a wedding gown. You don’t mind it being lavender? The color brought us together.”
“Mind?” The purple satin brushed her cheek, as whispery soft as a baby’s breath. She blinked back tears. He’d given a present of great significance. The past was behind at last and they had nothing ahead to fear.
“I hope it doesn’t bring back bad memories.”
“That you selected lavender means more than you’ll know.”
The wedding gown slid to the bed as her arms went around his neck. She inhaled the faint scent of leather, tobacco, and shaving soap. The mirror reflected a daunting pair.
Bedecked in the lace-edged work of art, they stood hand-in-hand before the reverend. The man who was stronger than the mightiest storm, taller than a swamp water cypress, who moved heaven and earth to set her world straight stole her thoughts.
Through a brilliant mist, she watched Brodie shake the gold band from the pouch inside his shirt. Parting with the ring meant trust and commitment. She didn’t mind the imperfect fit.
“I pronounce you husband and wife.”
Fiery passion in the kiss sealed the union. He swept her up into his arms, her feet dangling amidst yards of lavender and lace. Albeit a bit scarred, she’d found her soul mate.
Blue Boy’s howls nudged them back to earth. Scowls emphasized Brodie’s craggy features before he put her down.
Brodie rubbed the hound’s ears. “You belong to her, but you have to learn to share though, because I love her, too.”
Heat in the rebel grays held her prisoner. A flush rose. Being undressed by roguish eyes tended to do that. The dewy sheen coating her skin was a good omen.
Epilogue
Brodie settled into the living quarters above the café while a new house took shape on the land adjoining Murphy’s.
The parade of nameless faces no longer tormented him. Truth to tell, he strove to remember the emptiness of former days and nights. Allowing love into his heart had freed him.
“What’ll happen to me?” Adeline’s mouth had trembled.
Both he and Laurel assured the girl she’d always have a bed under their roof no matter what. When the girl gained experience, they’d turn over the deed to Ollie’s Café to her.
Florence Kempshaw dropped by to eat a big helping of humble pie. The rest of the town followed suit, which brought relief. The devil take anyone who harmed Laurel.
They’d deal with him first and find it a pretty big chore.
“I’m anxious to hear what prompted you from running her out of town to smoking the peace pipe?” he’d asked the busybody.
Florence had flushed. “She risked death to keep Vallens and Taft from taking those girls and stood up and fought to stay when it would’ve been easier to leave.”
Now, in the garden, his gorgeous wife captured his full attention. He’d never tire of watching her.
Laurel held a bouquet of purple pansies. “Are you ready?”
“For anything, darlin’. Let me grab my hat.”
The flowers added flair to Olivia Applejack b’Dam’s bleak grave. He missed the jabs the crotchety woman had delighted in poking him with now and again. She’d grown on him before he ever realized he wanted her to. Ollie thought she could paint over the crust so no one would see the size of her heart. She’d fooled him for a while—until he peeled aside the layers.
A cool wind blew raven tendrils across Laurel’s face. He held her tight, brushing them back to dry the tears. He blinked hard when she knelt to adjust the pansies.
“I did it, Ollie,” Laurel said. “I went home. You were right about my family. I also think you pegged Brodie for the handsome rebel he is. We’re married now. I miss hearing your cackle and your mother hen ways, but you probably know that, too.”
Brodie ached with loss left by his mother, Aunt Lucy, and Ollie. The palm he laid on Laurel’s bowed head shook.
“Her spirit lives with us, darlin’.” He tried to swallow but it got stuck on the way down. He suddenly sni
ffed. “I swear if I don’t smell smoke from that damn corncob pipe.”
Laurel smiled up through misty eyes and drawled, “My grandpappy always said, ‘Girl, ain’t nothing to dying. It’s the living that takes talent.’”
All of a sudden, the breeze ceased. Not a leaf, blade of grass, or ripple of air moved. Amid the hush, a red bird landed on one of the flowers she’d brought. It chattered, scolding.
“Great Johnny Reb. Ollie always insisted on the last word.”
“That she did.” Laurel accepted his hand and came into his arms. “Ollie b’Dam, you try to behave yourself and mind your manners up there. Don’t try the good Lord’s patience with all those righteous sayings.”
Arm in arm, they strolled for the café. A strange horse and rider galloped from the woods and into town.
Brodie tensed.
“Who could that be?” Laurel shivered as if sensing danger.
“The only thing you should worry that pretty head about is the lusty lover who’ll be in your bed come sundown and taming his wild streak.” He tweaked her nose.
“A pure waste of time. I like you exactly as you are.”
The stranger pulled alongside and sized them up. Brodie pushed back the felt hat, releasing the rattle’s hiss. He returned the hard, piercing stare, noting the twin ammunition belts crisscrossing the stranger’s chest and the pistols at his hip.
“Lookin’ for a feller. Goes by the name Shenandoah.”
Laurel sucked in a sharp breath, but kept silent.
“Rumor has it the army took him to the stockade in Jefferson to be hanged. Others claim he headed east to St. Louis. Mentioned something about the Black Garter.”
“Obliged.” The man tipped his hat and took off.
Unease gripped until the stranger rode past the saloon and disappeared into the woods.
Laurel let out a pent-up breath. “I thought for a minute you yearned to do something rash.”
“Can’t go around shooting strangers. What would our eight children think of their paw?”
“That he’s the keeper of their mother’s heart?”
“Absolutely. But there’ll be more seekers to come. My dear Mrs. Yates, think you can handle life with an ex-hired gun?”
