“Sh.” Will’s expression changed from teasing to serious. He took the dress from its hanger and lifted it over her head. She stood stock-still.
“I’m going to look like Wheeler Peak in wintertime.”
“Can’t hear you,” he called from the other side of yards and yards of white lace ruffles.
The lace scratched, but he kept on tugging and shifting and finally freed her head. “You mean like a lamb licker at the Cowboy Christmas Ball?”
“That still has you worried, huh, greenhorn?”
“How could it not? You’ll have to agree, it holds frightening connotations.” When she tried to peek into the looking glass, he turned her away.
“Not till we’re finished.”
“But I may not—”
“Sh, cowboy.” He fastened the dress, adjusted the ruffle over her shoulders, then sat her down, again away from the mirror. Standing back he scrutinized his work.
“I have to fix my hair.” She fidgeted in the pile of petticoats and lace. The toes of her stockinged feet peeked out. “And my shoes. Where are my white slippers?”
Leaning into her, Will kissed her soundly. “Sit tight. I have a wedding gift.”
“For me?”
“Who else?”
“But I didn’t…”
He’d already left the room. When he returned it was with a pair of white kid knee-high boots, fashioned in the best Western tradition, with slender toes, slanted heels, and five rows of stitching on the tops.
Priscilla’s mouth opened, but “Oh,” was all that escaped.
Kneeling before her, Will lifted her skirts, found a foot, and held the boot while she stuck her foot into the top. Together, they worked her arch down until her foot settled into the soft leather.
“They fit.”
“Of course, they fit. Do you think I’d let my bride walk down the aisle in a pair of boots that didn’t fit?”
“But will it be…all right?”
Will kissed her. “When did you start worrying over propriety?”
“I…well, I…”
“I want you to be comfortable, and I know you’re not going to be in that dress.”
“And I want you to be happy. Should I change? Wear britches—”
“Priscilla, if you take that dress off, after all it took to get you in it…” While he spoke, he took her fingers and pulled her to her feet. “Close your eyes. Follow me. There. Stand still. Don’t look.” She felt him fluff her skirts.
“Now.”
Her eyes flew open. Will stood beside her in his new black suit, silver bolo tie, and shiny black boots. Together they stared at her reflection in the looking glass. Her gaze found his.
“Lordy, you’re beautiful. I never imagined my bride would be so beautiful.”
Priscilla looked back at her own reflection. “That woman’s beautiful. But I don’t know her.”
“I do. She’s the woman I’m fixing to pledge before God to love and honor and respect for the rest of my life.”
“Oh, Will…”
“Sit down,” he said hoarsely. “Fix your hair so we can get out of here before I decide to lock you in this room and throw you on the bed and ravish your body.”
Picking up the brush she began to untangle her hair. “After all the trouble it took to get me in this dress?”
“For what I’m thinking, every minute of it would be worth the effort.”
After she rebraided her hair, entwining white satin ribbons and sprays of silk orange blossoms down the length of her one heavy braid, she scrutinized her reflection again.
“Maybe I should wear it in curls.”
“You know how to make curls?”
“No.”
“Well, neither do I, cowboy, so stop worrying.”
Cathedral bells pealed with a suddenness that startled them both. Will drew her to her feet.
“Let’s go get this over with.” His eyes darted from Priscilla to the bed. “We don’t want to waste the whole day outside.”
Her palms were wet, but she didn’t realize it until they reached the back staircase, and her hand slipped from Will’s.
“What do you think he’ll say?”
“Charlie?” Will’s attention was drawn to the street beyond. “Looks like we’re fixing to find out.”
Kate and Charlie waited on the piñon-shaded walk outside the cathedral. Titus Crockett and Ol’ Soggy Bottoms stood off to the side. Will ushered Priscilla across the empty street.
Kate saw them first. Will watched her mouth drop open. She nudged Charlie; he turned, frowned, froze in place.
“What’s he thinking?” Priscilla whispered.
“Hell, Priscilla, he’s your father. At least he’s not carrying a shotgun.”
It was the longest walk Priscilla could ever recall taking. Her parents didn’t budge from their position beneath the piñon tree until she stood before them. No one said a word.
Finally, Ol’ Sog broke the silence. “I’ll swear if it ain’t Miss Jake all dolled up an’ lookin’ like an angel.”
“Thanks, Uncle Sog.” She wanted to hug him, but she was unable to move from the spot where she’d come to stand, directly in front of her pa.
“Mighty purty, missy,” Crockett added in a voice that cracked with emotion.
“Thanks, Uncle Crockett.”
“Darling,” Kate whispered at last. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Oh, why am I crying? Where did you get that gown? I didn’t even know—”
“I wanted it to be a surprise, Mama.”
“Well, it sure as shootin’ is that,” Charlie growled.
Priscilla stood stock-still. Her breath rose and fell. She knew her breasts bulged above the off-shouldered neckline every time she breathed. She tried to take shallow breaths.
“Well, I’ll be,” Charlie was saying. “I’ll be.”
“Don’t you like it?” she asked finally, when neither of her parents seemed able to make a coherent statement.
“Like it?” Kate questioned. “It’s…I mean, you…Sog’s right. You look like an angel, my darling.”
“We always knew that,” Charlie responded.
“I wore it for you, Pa. The lace. And the ribbons in my hair. You always said I couldn’t tie a ribbon. Well, I did, today. For you. Don’t you like it?”
Moisture collected in the corners of Charlie’s eyes. “Hell, sugar, you’re the prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on. You’ve always known I felt that way.”
“But you always wanted me to be a lady. So, I tried…”
Before she could finish, Charlie grabbed her in a bear hug. “Miss Priss, that’s the prettiest dress I ever saw. For the prettiest girl in the whole danged world.” He set her back and perused her from head to toe. “Fit for a lady—the perfect lady you’ve always been.” He sniffled, shuffled his feet, and turned a deeper shade of red. “Hell, if it fit any better, ol’ Will here’d’ve had to pour you into it with Sog’s chili ladle.”
Priscilla felt Will wince beside her; her own face grew hot.
“But for the record,” Charlie added, “I’d’ve been just as proud if you’d worn britches and boots.”
Priscilla recovered. Lifting her skirts she kicked out a booted foot. “Look what Will gave me for a wedding gift.”
The appropriateness of wedding boots for Priscilla was discussed for a minute, then Kate moved them toward the cathedral. “We’d better go. The padre has already come to the door twice.”
Priscilla glanced up and down the street. “Where’s Joaquín?”
Charlie cleared his throat. “He lit out. Took Nalin into the mountains to find José Colorado. Then he’s headin’ west. Said he aims to take a job as a guide at some Easterner’s hunting lodge up in the Rockies.”
“I’ll miss him,” Priscilla said. “Was he all right?”
“Probably not,” Charlie admitted. “Before he left we rode out to the canyon and looked over his horses. I told him I’d take care of ’em for him. Maybe he’ll be back, maybe he won’t
.”
Walking must have relieved Pa’s nervousness, Priscilla decided, for he continued to talk as they walked side by side. Will and her mother followed, with Uncle Crockett and Uncle Sog bringing up the rear.
“Found something else out at the canyon,” Charlie confided.
“What, Pa?”
“Found out what Avery was doin’ hangin’ around Spanish Creek. Didn’t have much to do with you, after all.”
“Humph!” Priscilla returned, mimicking his usual response.
“He was after that gold.”
“Gold?”
“You know the tales. Gold in Spanish Creek Canyon.”
“If there’d been gold in that canyon, we would have found it years ago.”
“Looks like it. Anyhow, that’s what Avery was doing. I found his tracks back in the tunnel and signs of digging.”
“How’d he know?”
“Reckon he saw that suit of armor and the other artifacts we have around the place, put two and two together and came up with dollar signs in his eyes. I figure he took those artifacts outta that trunk in the barn, too.”
“Guess he wasn’t absentminded, after all. He had gold fever.”
“All adds up to the same dadburnt thing—shiftless, over-educated—”
Priscilla grinned. “Less than worthless…”
“On a ranch,” Charlie finished.
They reached the cathedral then, and Charlie held the door for Will and Priscilla. Lit by candlelight, the aged adobe walls glowed like they’d been kissed by the setting sun. The air was sweet with incense and centuries worth of piñon smoke. Will tugged Priscilla to a halt. He whispered in her ear.
“Did you mean what I think you meant?”
“What?” she whispered back.
“What you said about it being a boy. Are we having a baby, Miss Priss?”
She leaned into him in the dimly lit interior of the centuries-old cathedral, feeling ancient and young, imbued with great intelligence and nonsensical innocence all at the same time. “I didn’t think you understood.”
“We didn’t have time to talk about it. I intended to wait until later, but I couldn’t. When will it be?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never paid much attention to things like that. Are you…glad?”
“Glad? More than that. I never even thought about children. You’re all I needed, wanted, and now we’ll have a child, someone who’s part of both of us, someone who…”
The outer door slammed.
“Sh, Charlie,” Kate shushed.
Priscilla pulled Will toward the nave of the cathedral. “Then come on, greenhorn. Let’s go make this legal.”
My Warmest Thanks to…
DAN PARKINSON—for sharing his wonderful story about a Colt Pocket Dragoon.
ANNE AND MIKE CHENNAULT—(She was my college roommate; he was her college sweetheart.) for showing us the beauty of northern New Mexico and for helping keep our friendship alive and well.
LOLA SMITH—for her lovely New Mexico guide books and for sharing with us the magnificence of the New Mexico sunsets.
More from Vivian Vaughan
Branded
El Paso, Texas. 1895. Five years ago, life as Jacy Kimble knew it ended with a scandal that sent her brother Hunter and his best friend Trevor Fallon to Yuma Prison for murder. The scandal cost her family their Arizona Ranch, ruined her father’s political career and took his sanity, leaving the Kimble family in shambles. Once the belle of Arizona society, Jacy Kimble was haughty and flirtatious—her favorite target: Trevor Fallon. Her father called him a hired hand.
Now Trevor has shown up at her door, escaped from prison, or as he tries to make her believe: he was freed in the middle of the night with one order—clear her brother’s name and keep him from hanging.
For five years she has hated Trevor. How can she believe him now? Yet, how can she not help him try to prove her brother’s innocence? It’s a hard choice for Jacy: believe the man who ruined her life, or throw away any hope for her family’s future. Complicating everything, Trevor is the same handsome, no-account cowhand who once romanced her. And Jacy had loved him. Now she feels that powerful attraction returning. How can she spend time with him? How can she not?
No Place for a Lady
When Madolyn Sinclair, Secretary of the Boston Woman Suffrage Society, steps off the train in Buckhorn, Texas, she doesn’t know there is a right and wrong side of the tracks. Madolyn has come to this god-forsaken land with three purposes: to find her runaway brother Morley, secure her inheritance, and return to Boston to organize a Center for Women’s Rights. What she had not expected to find in this windswept land—or anywhere—was love: Madolyn Sinclair has dedicated herself to teaching submissive women from all walks of life that they don’t need men.
Then she meets Tyler Grant, her brother’s erstwhile business partner, who offers to take her to Morley’s ranch. She reluctantly accepts, and Tyler takes her on a wagon ride she will never forget. But Tyler has an ulterior motive, and he’s caught a tantalizing woman in his web of deceit.
Reluctant Enemies
New Mexico Territory, 1879. Will Radnor has never stopped looking for Charles Martin Kane, the man who murdered his father back in Philadelphia. Following the first good lead he’s had in years, Will accepts a position with a law firm in Santa Fé. In Chimayo, a golden-haired cowgirl, ‘dressed like Billy the Kid and smelling of horse sweat’ climbs into the stagecoach and changes his life forever. Then he learns her name.
Priscilla McCain has realized her dream to become the best danged cowgirl in New Mexico Territory, following in the boot steps of her beloved father, Charlie McCain. In Chimayo she climbs into the stage and trips over the flimsy black boots of a greenhorn lawyer. He is tall, though, and handsome. Silk shirts and perfume spring to mind. Then she realizes what he is—a greenhorn.
Soon, however, even wild horses can’t keep them apart. Will passes every ‘greenhorn’ test Priscilla poses and proves himself a quick learner. Before she knows it, Priscilla has donned that silk shirt, lacy chemise, and spritzes on her mother’s perfume.
As Will’s love for Priscilla grows, he knows that the time will come when she must choose between him and her father, and either choice will be disastrous for all of them. He has never seen a family as close. But can he forego bringing Charles Martin Kane to justice, even for the woman he loves?
A Wish to Build a Dream On
Reese Catlin is determined to get his herd from Texas to Kansas ahead of the rush. An excellent chuck wagon cook is essential to the cattle drive, and after tasting the delectable lemon pies at the café in town, he knows he’s found the perfect man for the job in 'Andy' Dushane.
Only as it turns out, Andie Dushane is actually a woman, and he knows the rest of the cowboys won’t stand for it. But after she proves her culinary skills can’t be matched—or resisted—she joins the camp on the trail to Kansas.
Before long, Andie’s delicious cuisine wins over the stomachs of the cowboys, but it’s the warmth of her passionate embrace that wins over the heart of Reese.
Storms Never Last
Eager to flea Indianola, Texas and the violent blood feud between her own family and the neighboring Suttons, Lindsey Mae Burnett makes the desperate decision to work as a shady lady to fund her escape.
March Sutton is in Indianola with one mission—murder. In an effort to relax, he pays Miss Fancy's House of Fanciful Delights a visit where he is paired with the beautiful, innocent Lindsey.
As a fierce storm descends upon the city, both March and Lindsey find themselves in danger of being swept away by not only the harsh winds, but by each other as well. Will their love survive the dangers of the vicious storm and the looming threat of Jeb Taylor, only to be destroyed when Lindsey learns that March is one of the very Suttons she’s running from?
Sweetheart of the Rodeo
Caterina Raminerz, daughter of a ranch cook, wanted nothing more than to marry her oldest friend Monte Ballou. But the morning
after he proposes, he disappears, along with Caterina’s hope for a future with true love.
Six years later, Monte has returned, determined to ride a dangerous stallion in the Fourth of July Rodeo. Still deeply in love with her childhood sweetheart, Caterina vows to do whatever necessary to stop Monte from riding the ferocious horse—and maybe save his life.
But even as buried feelings and forgotten promises find their way back to the surface, Monte is promised to someone else. Will Monte and Caterina find their way back to each other before their love is extinguished forever?
Tremaynes of Apache Wells
Chance of a Lifetime
Fort Davis, Department of Texas, 1868. Sabrina Bolton lives with an omnipresent feeling of guilt: her twin sister’s death when the girls were five left their mother in a perpetual state of melancholy. Now, fourteen years later, everything Sabrina does brings the admonishment “Proper young ladies don’t...”
Sabrina wants more. She wants to treat people at the post hospital; she wants to work at her father’s off-base mercantile with her friend, Rosa Ramírez; and she wants romance. Then her mother makes the ultimate choice—a suitor for Sabrina. Sabrina cannot summon one romantic feeing for Captain Lon Jasper. Indeed, he criticizes her behavior as much as her mother does.
Then the man called Tremayne rides onto the base and straight into Sabrina’s heart. Tremayne was reared by Apaches after his parents were murdered by unknown assailants, and he considers himself an outcast in both worlds. To him, all white-eyes women are witless. As if to prove the point, he almost runs down a fiery-haired woman who has wandered into the street and tripped on her skirts. He helps her stand, and from that moment they find no peace unless they are together. As their love grows, Tremayne knows he must leave Sabrina. Together she would be an outcast, too.
Catch a Wild Heart
Keturah “Ket” Tremayne belongs nowhere, to no one. Born of an Apache mother and “white-eyes” father, Ket is an outcast in both worlds. She has erected a wall around her heart, a wall of hatred for all whites, especially the soldiers at Fort Davis...and her stepmother, Sabrina.
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