“Your Honor.”
She flinched at the harsh voice behind her and followed the judge’s glare to find MacGrath standing two rows back.
“She’s not Henry Reiker’s widow.”
Judge Murphy scowled and banged his gavel. “Nor are you, sir. You are out of order, and will wait until I call for additional information or objections.”
A chair barked against the plank floor as MacGrath dropped his heavy frame to the seat.
Mae Ann drew in as much air as possible, for most of it had been sucked from the room by MacGrath’s venomous accusation—which was completely true.
Pastor Bittman’s words chose this moment to meander through her mind, calming her senses as they played across her worrisome thoughts. The Lord bless thee, and keep thee. Had He not done just that and more? Kept her from being shot, or worse, during the robbery, and blessed her with Cade and Deacon and Cougar and the ranch, even if only for a short while?
“Your Honor?”
He nodded and turned one hand palm up, indicating she continue.
“Henry Reiker and I began a correspondence last fall when I answered his notice in the St. Louis Chronicle for a bride. We agreed upon a May wedding, and he met me at the train depot in Olin Springs. On our way to the church, Henry wanted to stop at the bank.” The words stuck in her throat, jammed against a fierce pain resurrected in speaking them aloud.
“Go on.” The judge folded his hands on the table.
“While we were there, the bank was robbed. Henry was shot and killed.” Tears pushed disloyally against the backs of her eyes, and she scorned her feminine sensibilities for betraying her at such a moment. Clearing her throat, she looked down at her fingers, white knuckled in her attempt at self-control.
The judge leaned forward. “So you never actually married Henry Reiker.”
Cloaking herself with the mantle of truth, she met his scrutiny. “My intentions were to do so, but we were not afforded the opportunity.”
He raised the paper. “Is this hole the result of the fatal bullet?”
Her chest seized. She nodded.
“Have the thieves—and murderer—been caught?”
Her voice joined hovering tears in betrayal and squeezed itself into a weak whisper. “Not that I am aware.”
“But you are now Mrs. Cade Parker, is that correct?”
Another nod and she reached for mettle that had once served her well. “I am. Mr. Parker came to my aid at the bank and agreed to uphold Henry’s end of the agreement regarding the marriage.”
“I see.” One thick brow arched over his somber countenance, and he looked at Cade. “Mr. Parker, did you marry your wife for her property?”
~
Sean MacGrath snorted, and it took every ounce of Cade’s self-discipline not to leap over the chairs and smash his face into the floor. His hands fisted, the right one shooting daggers into his shoulder.
He stood. “No, Your Honor, I did not. I married her for, for …” He felt Mae Ann wilt beside him though her body stood firm. How could he hurt her this way? But he hadn’t married her for love or even companionship. He hadn’t known her at the time, wasn’t aware that he would fall—
“Did you know of Mr. Reiker’s property?”
“Yes, Your Honor. A corner of the farm borders Parker Land and Cattle west of Olin Springs.”
Scuffling feet behind him caught the judge’s attention. “You, sir, what is your name and why are you here?”
MacGrath stood, shoving his chair back as he did so. “Name’s Sean MacGrath, Your Honor, and the Reiker place borders my land also. It has good water on it, and I offered to buy it from the farmer. So did Parker here, but Reiker wouldn’t sell.”
From the hard set of Judge Murphy’s mouth, Cade guessed he didn’t take kindly to MacGrath.
“And?”
“And the land should be put to auction, judge. Your Honor, sir.” He pointed a thick finger. “That will says Reiker left the land to his widow, Mae Ann Remington Reiker, but he never married her, so she can’t be his legal widow.”
Murphy read over the will again and raised a hard glare to MacGrath. “Are you related to Mr. Reiker?”
MacGrath grumbled under his breath before answering. “No.”
“Are you his attorney?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Then exactly how do you know what the will says? Did Mr. Reiker or Mrs. Parker allow you to read it?”
Cade heard the wind leave MacGrath’s chest, and he looked over his shoulder to see the big man go white in the face. His beefy hands gripped the back of the chair in front of him, and Cade anticipated the snap of breaking wood.
“I heard tell is all.”
Murphy looked again at Mae Ann, laid the will flat, and ran a hand over it. “Did your husband-to-be have any living relatives that you know of, Mrs. Parker?”
“He mentioned in one of his letters that he had none living, Your Honor.” Mae Ann was nearly stretched to her limits, based on the fiddle-string tension Cade heard in her voice.
“Can you produce this correspondence?”
She hesitated. “Henry’s letters were in my reticule. The bank robbers took it and every other woman’s bag.”
Cade did not expect compassion from the judge, but he expected fairness and sent up a silent prayer to that effect.
“Very well. Based upon what I read here, it is my ruling, Mrs. Parker, that Henry Reiker, in all good faith, left his farm to you upon his death. I daresay he did not know said death would take place so prematurely, but I hereby declare the land to be legally yours to do with as you see fit.”
The clap of gavel on wood rang out like a gunshot and Mae Ann flinched. Cade laid his hand against her back and moved closer. She’d fainted on him once before, and he intended to catch her if it happened again.
Judge Murphy gave the will to the man standing to his right, who in turn brought it to Mae Ann. Then he gathered his papers and left the room. The door closed behind him with crisp finality.
Mae Ann fell into her chair, her hands trembling like autumn leaves as she folded the will and tucked it in her bag.
“It ain’t right.” MacGrath rumbled an oath.
Cade faced him.
“It’s right and declared so by the circuit judge. Unless you want to deal with me—and you don’t—you’ll leave well enough alone and keep your rope on your saddle and not drifting toward my herd.”
MacGrath’s black glare flicked to Cade’s sling and back again and his lip curled in a snarl. “It’s not my doing that’s costing you cows.” He lumbered out the side door without another word, the flimsy stairs to the street creaking beneath his weight.
Cade pulled his chair closer to Mae Ann and covered her gripped hands with his good one. Her eyes brimmed like a spring flood pool, and he longed to pull her to him and tell her he wanted her to stay at the ranch. To stay for love. “Mae Ann.”
She drew a shaky breath and swiped at her face. “I’m putting the farm up for sale. Perhaps a nice family from Olin Springs will want it. With the money in my account, I can pay my own traveling expenses.”
His gut twisted at her spoken intentions, but instead of airing his mind, he cupped her shoulder and drew her against him. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”
She pulled away from him, avoiding his eyes. “I do.”
The words shot deep until they joined up with a matching pair whispered in May. “It’s early enough that we can head back now, if you’re willing, and take a cutoff to Olin Springs and the land office on our way to the ranch. But I want to talk to you about something and this isn’t the proper place.”
She stood. “I’m willing.”
“To talk?”
“To take the cutoff to Olin Springs. The sooner I sell the farm, the sooner I can leave and your life can return to the way it was.”
He deserved that.
CHAPTER 22
Weak-kneed with relief as well as heartache, Mae Ann he
ld so tightly to the rickety railing that she drove splinters into her hand. She needed a moment alone to sort through her emotions, but where? The crowds had doubled in the hour she and Cade were in the courtroom, and the heat and noise and smells wove into a suffocating web that threatened to send her running. She turned sharply at the bottom of the stairs and hurried for the alleyway behind the saloon, Cade close behind.
He grasped her hand and led her toward an open park at the intersection ahead. How did he always know what she needed?
As soon as they stepped from between the close stone buildings, the air freshened and her panic dissipated. Cade took her to a park bench beneath a spreading elm, where he joined her, but with distance between them.
“You may feel better if you remove your jacket.” His mouth worked in that curious way, though hidden in part by his beard and mustache.
She took his suggestion to heart, and he helped her pull the snug sleeves from her arms. Immediately, she felt better. “Thank you.”
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
She watched him stride away, the crown of his hat skimming above most of the other people milling about in the scattered shade. If only things had worked out differently, perhaps she could have grown old in the circle of his strong arms, made the ranch house a home, and filled it with children. She folded the fitted jacket across her lap and fingered lines against the nap of the dark velvet, considering her next step—what to ask for Henry’s farm.
He’d had such good intentions, at least she assumed so by the wording of his will. Tears pricked her eyes anew, but not for loss of Henry. She’d been willing to marry him and work beside him, but she’d never known him. Now she was responsible for his land, and rightfully so, according to Judge Murphy. Was it wrong to sell it?
A light breeze fluttered through the park on ribbons of popcorn and caramel. Music played in the distance, and children’s laughter erupted nearby where a family shared a picnic on a blanket. Cade approached her with a bottle in each hand and a smile forming on his handsome face. Another changing mood. Had he changed his mind as well?
His hat was cocked to one side, clearly revealing merry eyes. “Soda water,” he said, standing before her and offering an opened bottle. “Chilled in ice.”
She could not have been more pleased had he offered her a new set of unchipped china. “Thank you.” His slinged arm hung at eye level, and she leaned toward it, sniffing. “Not to be rude, but you smell a bit like popcorn and … honey?”
His face bloomed into a true smile, like that of a young boy producing his best work for a parent. He reached into the sling and withdrew a brimming paper sack. “They called it kettle corn, and it smelled so good I couldn’t resist.”
Laughing, she accepted the bag, delighted in his relaxed enthusiasm as he settled beside her on the bench. She longed to know what he wanted to discuss, but refused to disrupt this hard-earned reprieve from their ordeal in court. Contenting herself with his presence, the breeze, and the delicious sweetened popcorn, she tucked her curiosity away. He would tell her when he was ready, and she prayed she’d have the fortitude to hear what he had to say.
In too brief a time, he drew a gold watch from his vest pocket, gave it a quick glance, and slipped it back, ending their pleasant respite. He downed the last of his soda water and set his hat to its normal position. “We best leave if we’re going to stop in Olin Springs before the land office closes.”
Her lightheartedness fizzled in the face of rough reality, but he was right. It would be hot enough traveling beneath the midday sun—again. Her suit might be beyond salvation by the time they made it home. The word pinged against her heart, leaving a small wound.
They returned their bottles to the soda stand, and she waited in the shade as he retrieved their bags from the hotel and brought around the wagon. After handing her up, he reached behind the seat for her broad-brimmed hat and gave it to her with his characteristically wry quirk. Then he joined her on the seat, flicked the gray mare on the rump, and they left Cedar City and its Founders’ Day festivities behind.
~
If he’d not told Mae Ann she had to leave, Cade wouldn’t be racking his brain for a way to unsay it. If he’d spoken up sooner and declared himself, they’d be spending another day in Cedar City. Strolling down Main Street, dining at the hotel. He’d buy her a fancy-made dress, try his hand at courting, and dadgum it, he wouldn’t be spending another night in a chair.
Smoke clopped along as if this were just another drive from town and not a crossroads for the rest of Cade’s life.
He huffed. With her sitting right next to him, he couldn’t even think out loud. As it was, she’d made her wishes clear, and he had twenty miles to figure out how to tell her he wanted to buy her farm.
“I want to buy your farm.”
So much for working around to a conversation.
The gray swiveled its ears at his voice, but Mae Ann sat stone-still.
He darted a look her way and found her stick straight as usual, the hat hiding her expression. Exasperating woman. Light as a spring flower one moment and brick heavy the next.
“Why?”
He swallowed. “Why?”
“Yes, why?”
He might as well jump in all the way. “I’ve changed my mind about you leaving.”
The gray plodded on. Mae Ann remained her stalwart self.
“Seeing as how Judge Murphy ruled in your favor, and you’re set on selling the farm, you might as well sell it to me.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “I figure if I buy the farm and join it to Parker Land and Cattle, you might feel you have an interest in the place and decide to stay on.”
He drew in a bucket of air, unaccustomed to stringing so many words together in one breath.
“So this is about business.”
Not a question, but he heard one just the same. What was he supposed to say? That in spite of what she thought, he didn’t want the life he’d had before she came to the ranch—lonely, cold, and one-sided. The words stuck in his throat and he couldn’t pry them loose.
“I see.” She fiddled with the blue bag on her lap, but he hadn’t missed the disappointment in her voice.
He plowed on. “If we do it that way, MacGrath’ll back off and a third party won’t be involved up in our country.”
She looked at him, something like hope staining her voice. “We?”
The knot at the back of his neck rubbed, and his shoulder ached from flexing his right arm over and over. “Well, you, I guess.”
Her shoulders slumped a bit, and Cade felt as if he were holding a losing hand in a high-stakes poker game. Only this was no game. “Mae Ann, what do you want me to say?”
He dipped his head to see beneath her hat brim and found her lips rolled tight, her eyes blinking furiously, but she wouldn’t look at him. Just shook her head.
Confounded woman, she made him crazy. He clucked Smoke to a faster pace. The sooner they got to Olin Springs, the sooner he could breathe again.
The gray ate up the dry miles, and Cade stopped in front of a watering trough two doors down from the land office. While he let the mare drink, Mae Ann climbed down and brushed the dust from her suit. It was near the same time of day as when he’d taken her to the church in May. The sun inched closer to the mountaintops, and a distant rumble warned of a coming storm. He tied off the reins and slapped his hat against his trousers. Mae Ann looked past him to the land office, its shingle clearly marking the entry. Best get it over with.
He offered his left arm and she took it, much to his relief. But at the entrance she reined him in.
“I accept your offer.”
He freed his arm, gripped her shoulder, and turned her to face him. “Look at me, Mae Ann.”
Her jaw tightened, but her eyes—oh, those eyes. They brimmed once more, and for the life of him he didn’t know how it was he hurt her so easily. “It’s not about the land. It’s not what the judge said, that I just wanted the farm. It’s abou
t keeping you safe and keeping MacGrath out of our life.”
A tear slipped away before she could stop it. She lowered her gaze and pushed the back of each hand to her eyes, then locked on him again. “Tell me what you mean by our life.”
His heartbeat pounded in his skull, and he had no doubt she could hear it.
“Excuse me.”
He spun around to a fella trying to get in the door that he and Mae Ann blocked.
Cade nodded. “Beg pardon.” Gently, he pulled Mae Ann to the side, grateful for a minute to herd his thoughts. Her cheeks were damp, her lashes wet, and her fingers knotted in the string of her blue bag.
“I mean you and me. Together on the ranch.” Fine courting words, but this was no stroll down Main Street.
She looked clear through him. Broke down the door to the cold room where he’d kept his heart chained. Her hand brushed his bearded cheek, and the chains snapped like the old ladder rungs in the barn.
“Let’s go inside and see what the land is worth, and then I can transfer the papers to you at the bank.”
The door opened and two people exited. They could have been walking, talking buffalo for all the notice he paid them. Mae Ann preceded him through the door, and they caught the land agent as he was closing up shop.
He greeted them without surprise. “I thought I might see you today, Mrs. Parker. Cade.” He gave them a toothy grin. “Mr. MacGrath came in earlier and left this envelope for you, ma’am. He said to be sure and tell you that if this wasn’t enough to buy your farm, there was more where that came from.”
~
Mae Ann stared at the envelope the man offered, refusing to touch it. Of all the arrogant, presumptuous, and overbearing people she had ever met, Sean MacGrath took the prize. But that prize would not be her farm.
With a hike of her skirts, she bolted out the door and down the boardwalk toward the bank, Cade hollering behind her. He wanted her. She saw it in his eyes, even though he hadn’t said the words she longed to hear. But he’d defined us as the two of them, and that was a start. The start to the home she wasn’t about to let Sean MacGrath or anyone else get in the way of, no matter how much money they offered. Henry’s farm was not for sale.
An Improper Proposal Page 20
