Thankful for the Cowboy

by Mary Connealy

  “My pa told me he and Ma ran off to get married. Pa made no bones about wanting to come to America and her folks were against it. So, they eloped. Ma will understand. She’ll be surprised.” Niall looked at Megan and grinned. “Just like you are.”

  “Yes, Tommy, try and close your mouth,” Megan giggled. A girl’s laugh. She was too young. “We’ve been talking about this for a while now, Niall and I. We intended to wait until spring at least. We know we’re young. But after this week spending so much time in each other’s company, well, we decided waiting wasn’t a wise idea.”

  Niall grinned down at her and squeezed her hand. “Not wise at all.”

  Tom needed to find the right words. He needed to punch Niall in the nose. He needed to—

  Niall and Megan walked away from him. He almost stumbled because he was numb all over—feet included. But he managed to chase after them only to find they’d unhitched the horses just as he’d told them to. And saddled three of them, and put the fourth on a lead rope, with her foal gamboling at her side. It wasn’t right to leave their wagon horses behind for the farmer to care for.

  Niall helped Megan into the saddle, then swung up himself. “We need to make tracks, Tom. We want to get to town before the parson sits down to supper.”

  Niall and Megan rode off, Niall leading the buckskin mare, the little colt trailing along.

  Tom had no choice…or none he could think of with his head still full of the stunning news.

  He swung up onto his own horse, which the kids…except not kids…not anymore…had all saddled and ready to go. They were galloping and he took off after the pair, still struggling to find the right words to say to get them to head home to their families, to give themselves more time.

  As he caught up to them, he still hadn’t come up with any ideas. All he could think of was Lauren. Surprise didn’t begin to describe it. She wasn’t going to understand one bit of this. And she was going to blame Tom. Just see if she didn’t.

  Chapter Eleven

  Late in the afternoon of the day before Thanksgiving, Tom rode in, wondering if Lauren would kill him.

  He hoped she wouldn’t torture him first. But if she did, he was determined to take it without a word of protest.

  They all three went into the house together. It took Lauren about five seconds to stop smiling and stare at Niall holding Megan’s hand. Megan was wearing a wedding ring, too. It gleamed as if it were made of…gold. Which it was.

  With admirable courage, Niall said, “We got married.” He raised their joined hands high. Megan blushed and moved closer to him. And she was already mighty close.

  Lauren’s cheeks turned color, too. But it wasn’t the blush of embarrassment. More the color of anger. Her blue eyes, flashing with temper, turned to Tom, as if he’d had any say in this.

  Lauren looked from Tom to the two happy children.

  Tom said, “I told them they were too young.”

  Lauren narrowed her eyes.

  “I’m older than you and Pa were when you got married, Ma.” Niall turned to look at Megan.

  “Th-that’s true. But we were too young.”

  “You made a good go of it.” Niall stood tall, it was possible he’d grown an inch or two since he’d gotten married. His voice might be deeper.

  He and Megan had found a rooming house and they’d gone off to be alone together.

  Tom’s little sister now knew more about the married state than Tom did.

  “And if Pa had so few years to his life, then it’s good you got an early start.” Niall didn’t seem to notice that Lauren looked ready to kill him. Of course, he mostly only had eyes for his new bride. And Megan for him.

  Tom saw their affection. Yes, they were too young. But they’d made their decision and they looked mighty pleased with it.

  “And I was thinking of Laird MacKinnon. He might come hunting a beautiful, innocent girl, because Megan told me he’s an awful, cruel man who likes to prey on young women. But he’ll leave a married woman alone. And if he bothers us, a husband has a lot more say in what happens to his wife than a neighbor, or even a brother.” He lifted their still-joined hands between them and kissed her fingers. “I can protect you better.”

  Then Duncan whooped and jumped up from the floor and charged his brother, slapping him on the back.

  Lauren gave Tom one look of pure, frustrated fury, then banked the raging fire in her eyes and like any woman whose life threw a shocking twist at her, she squared her shoulders, forced a smile onto her face and accepted it.

  Her possible interest in getting Tom alone to kill him, notwithstanding.

  She came up to the newlyweds and pulled Megan into her arms. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Drummond.”

  Megan giggled and flung her arms around Lauren, looking as if she wanted to hold on forever. Tom had to wonder if Megan was happier about acquiring a mother than she was about getting a husband. And that’d be saying something because she seemed mighty happy with Niall.

  “Tell me about the wedding, how you decided to get married. Where you got married, I want to know everything.” Lauren pulled Megan toward the kitchen table, set for an evening meal. There were only three plates on the table, but Lauren bustled around and Megan helped, as did the boys. Tom did what he could, but the kitchen was crowded.

  The women chattered. Duncan and Rory pestered Niall and teased him. No amount of teasing could take that glow of joy from their big brother’s eyes.

  Then they sat down to eat and Niall added more to all he’d said already. “And I signed up for a homestead.”

  That brought the meal to a dead stop.

  Lauren was doing a landed salmon imitation.

  Niall didn’t wait to be questioned, he went right on. “I claimed a good piece of that stream that you found, Ma. Megan and I will live in my cabin six months of the year and hers the other six months until we prove up. We’re going to start living in Megan’s right now so we can split up the year right from the start. I might leave off building a soddy until spring, I have a stretch of time before it has to be done.”

  “B-but, you’re not twenty-one,” Lauren said weakly.

  Tom thought, considering the wedding, that was the least important thing to discuss.

  “I staked my claim before we got married. I couldn’t do it after, because her claim would become mine and then I wouldn’t have the right to my own.”

  Tom considered crawling under the table. But he didn’t.

  “Then when I said I was going to take a wife, well, I didn’t tell them my age, but in the course of doing the paperwork for the homestead, the land agent told me once a man was married, he earned the legal rights of an adult. I wonder if he thought I was too young, but he never said so, just found a round-about way to explaining why it would be all right. Then he told me where to sign my name. Anyway, he made of point of letting me know it was completely legal. Or at least in his office it was.”

  “And that makes my claim to a homestead legal, too,” Megan piped up. “No matter my age.”

  “And what age is that, if you don’t mind my asking?” Lauren said.

  Blushing, with a tiny shrug, Megan said, “Sixteen.”

  Lauren’s eyes fell shut, as if the answer pained her.

  “The same age you were when you—”

  Lauren waved a hand at Niall. “I know, I know. Yes, you are as old as I was, and your pa.”

  “Older than Pa.” Niall said it in a light-hearted voice goading his mother.

  Glaring at him, she said, “Yes, well. Anyway, we’ll share an evening meal. And we’ve spent today getting ready for Thanksgiving.”

  The meal was a quick one and uncomfortably quiet, at least to Tom’s way of thinking, it was uncomfortable.

  Quick enough, Niall stood from the table. “We left the horses saddled. We’re planning to move into Megan’s soddy right away, tonight. We’ll head on over now.”

  “I’ll come along, then,” Tom rose from the table weary with the long ride and th
e tension.

  “No, that’s not necessary. In fact, we’d be pleased if you stayed here. We’d like to be alone our first night at home.” He didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he grabbed their outer things with amazing skill for a man who never let go of his wife’s hand. Then he dragged Megan outside. The door snapped shut behind them.

  It was Tom’s turn to act like a gasping fish at how quickly they’d abandoned him. Abandoned all of them.

  Then he turned to face Lauren. She arched one brow at him as they listened to two horses galloping away.

  “Boys?”

  The tone, the brow, apparently her sons had heard this before. Tom got used to thinking of them as men. Yes, Rory was yet to be full grown, but they worked, talked, acted and ate like grown men.

  Right now, he remembered they were boys. Lauren’s boys and, when she wanted them to, they well remembered it.

  Duncan and Rory shot to their feet. They stood so fast Rory knocked his chair over backward and almost fell. Duncan grabbed Rory and held him upright. He picked up the chair and set it by the table. Then the two of them escaped to their room.

  Inside, the same as outside, the walls were made of sod. Good insulation against weather and sound. But Tom didn’t trust the two youngsters. If it’d been him, he’d’ve had his ear pressed to the door.

  No reason to think these boys would do it any different.

  “Let’s step outside.” His weariness lifted at the thought of dragging a woman outside just like Niall had done with Tom’s sister.

  Dragging a woman anywhere was considerably different when the woman came along willingly.

  Or, no. That wasn’t quite right. Because Lauren would come willingly. It was just that she was coming because she needed to yell at someone. And here he stood.

  Tom wasn’t inclined to put up with it. He’d had no control over those two headlong kids. And once Lauren calmed down, she’d admit that.

  But right now, her eyes flashed with fire hot as lightning bolts. Her cheeks were dark pink with temper.

  And she all but vibrated with the words that boiled inside her.

  He turned, grabbed his coat and went out. She could let him escape or she could come outside. Either way, whatever she had to say wouldn’t be overheard.

  As if the boys didn’t know exactly what their ma was going to say.

  Chapter Twelve

  He was running.

  The varmint was using his long legs against her. Her storming walk turned into a run.

  “Tom MacKinnon, you…umph.” She plowed into him.

  He gave her an exasperated look that calmed her just a bit. She’d hit him hard and he hadn’t even staggered. It reminded her that he was big and strong, and muscled and—she stopped herself from pinching one muscular arm just to test it. She remembered she was furious. But she had some sympathy for him. Obviously minding two kids was too much for the big lunkhead.

  When she tore his head off, she’d do it quickly. It’d be merciful.

  “Now, Lauren.” He’d caught her when she ran into him. Both hands on her upper arms. “I was just as surprised—”

  “Get your hands off of me.”

  His eyes went wide at the lethal tone of voice. It was honestly a tone Lauren had never heard come from her lips before.

  “You sound like a death knell after a hanging.” From the look of fear on Tom’s face he heard how she felt pretty well.

  “I want to know what kind of nonsense went on while my son was off with you.” Her voice rose with every word.

  “Lauren, I—””

  “Did you,” she cut him off as surely as if she’d used a knife, “put them up to this?”

  “Put them up to it? How could I do that?” Now Tom’s voice rose, right along with hers.

  “Did you tell Niall it was all right to flaunt the law?”

  “The law?” His eyes lost focus for a second as if he was trying to think what in the world she meant.

  “The homestead. He was going to wait until he was—”

  “No, stop yelling. The homestead. I’d forgotten all about that.” He patted her on the shoulder.

  She swatted his hand away. “Did you talk about Laird Murdo MacKinnon—.”

  “The only thing I did—” He roared loud enough it stopped her flood of angry words. As a rule, Tom was a mild-mannered man. Quiet, cheerful. He’d really never yelled before.

  It wasn’t all that effective because Lauren raged on. Her words right over top of his.

  “Yes, did you convince Niall to be a Viking warrior—”

  “—was walk into the house.” He flung his arms wide.

  “—And fight for a defenseless woman?”

  “I told the man who hired us we were going home for Thanksgiving.”

  “Who needed a hero to rescue her—”

  “And came back,” Tom shouted, “to find them kissing.”

  “—from the evil Laird.”

  “—and with finished wedding plans.”

  “Well you shouldn’t have left them alone!” Lauren could yell as loud as necessary and she proved it. “All that time, two youngsters with no supervision.”

  “I left them alone for ten minutes!” He almost howled the words. A howling wolf pack of words. A howling wolf pack, then the snarl and growl as they went for the throat of some hapless deer.

  And under it she heard his own confused shock at what had happened…in ten minutes.

  “I told them to unhitch the teams from the wagons and saddle them up. It was early enough I hoped we could get home, or at least a long way toward home last night. They did all that while I went in to tell the man we were heading out and would be back after Thanksgiving. And when I came out, they were nowhere to be seen, then I found them behind the barn kissing.”

  Lauren gasped. Her hand went to her throat. Although, considering how they’d run off to be alone at Megan’s house just now, kissing was the least of it.

  “They said they were getting married. I tried to talk sense into them.”

  “Clearly, you didn’t try hard enough.”

  “It was all I could do to keep up with them. They told me they were getting married. I said they should wait and have a wedding you could attend.”

  Lauren arched a brow. “Why would I want to watch such madness?”

  “It was all I could think of. Try to appeal to Niall’s responsible, thoughtful side. His love for his mother. Try to appeal to Megan’s sentimental side, maybe she’d hope to be included in any wedding a child of hers ever had. But they wouldn’t be swayed.”

  Lauren slapped both hands full over her face. “A child? Oh, by the love of all that’s holy, there’ll be a baby by the end of summer.”

  Tom froze. His eyes went wide. “Do you think so?”

  She felt her fists clench. One nice solid punch in the jaw. “Yes, I really think so. Of course, there will be. My first three came so fast—”

  “Three?” Tom’s ruddy complexion blanked to near white, as if he pictured himself living in that soddy with three babies. He was holding all three of them at the same time. Tiny infants, all crying. All with wet diapers.

  Except Lauren wasn’t sure if the half-wit even knew babies got wet diapers.

  “Stop talking about babies before I start screaming.” Tom as good as begged.

  He fell silent. Lauren, too. Her chest heaved, panic, or at least worry. Finally, she gave Tom just one nice solid punch in the stomach.

  The lummox didn’t even grunt. He was solid as a sod wall. He shoved his hands into his back pockets and frowned at her. “There’s nothing to be done about it.”

  Lauren had a new worry. What if Duncan got ideas? He’d seemed thrilled with the wedding announcement. The complete dearth of females helped keep the possibility low. Of course, there was the option of running off. Maybe Duncan could find Conall and the two of them could get married. Why not Rory? True he was thirteen, but as long as Lauren’s life was spinning madly, why not?

  Spinning thought
s were making her dizzy.

  “Babies cry, right?”

  She punched him again. He didn’t seem to notice and it made her feel marginally better.

  Hurt her hand, though.

  “How’m I supposed to get any sleep with them living in my house? I might just stay here.”

  Lauren gasped so loud it hurt her throat and she started coughing. Then she couldn’t seem to get any breath around the cough so it made her cough harder.

  Tom whacked her on the back. Honestly, he meant to be helpful, but he was probably hitting her harder than she’d hit him. And she’d meant to inflict pain while he was trying to be helpful.

  Thinking of that only made her dizzier.

  Finally, she started breathing again, and Tom left off beating on her.

  “It’s late and I’m exhausted,” Tom said, turning her to face the cabin. Where she was now living with three men. “Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. We’ll have to find things to be thankful for so the best way to do that is to go to bed.”

  Lauren tripped on a root and fell flat on her face.

  Or maybe it was a dip in the ground. Or some knotted grama grass stalks. Or her own two feet.

  She rolled over to stare in shock at Tom, who was looming over her, bending low. What in the world was he doing?

  Then he caught her around the upper arms and lifted her onto her feet as if she weighed two pounds. He set her upright.

  “Are you hurt? What happened? Why did you fall?”

  She could tell the man had no notion of what he’d said. Or rather, no notion of what it’d sounded like. Or rather, no notion of how she’d taken it. Which was the real problem, wasn’t it? Tom had meant his words to be innocent. Lauren hadn’t heard them that way at all.

  And now her three bedroom house wasn’t even close to big enough. She considered for one wild moment, moving into the barn. She understood cattle and horses and could live with them in harmony if they didn’t trample her or gore her to death. And if she didn’t freeze. And if she didn’t mind finding straw in her underclothes in the morning. And if she didn’t have to explain what in the world she was doing. And if…