by Linda Broday
“He asked for your hand. I said I’d be proud to give my girl to him.”
“You didn’t!”
“Sure the hell did. What’s wrong with that?”
“Because…” She struggled for a logical reason, yet none came to mind. At least none she wanted to share.
“I thought you liked the man.”
“I… Yes, I suppose he’s better than most.”
“You don’t want to marry him?”
“It’s not that cut-and-dried.”
“On account of your blindness? Glory, you need someone to take care of you.”
When did a body know the difference between a want and a need? Which was necessary and which an extravagance? Having a want tip the scales of the fine balance could destroy the love between a man and a woman. She would make any sacrifice to prevent that. Her selfish desires had already brought enough destruction.
“Luke deserves more than a burdensome wife. If I can’t carry my share of the load, we should go separate ways.”
Somehow, she’d have to forget the stranger who’d shown her the beauty of life and made her believe she could reach for the stars and hold them in her grasp.
She had to let the man with the key go…if she could.
* * *
Luke’s breath caught when the silken-haired beauty slipped into the barn.
The first rays of dawn cast an eerie light through the doorway behind her. He hadn’t slept a wink for thinking of the answer he meant to have before morning passed.
Funny how one little word could bring sun rays or the darkest, most desolate midnight.
She lifted the feed bucket and scooped up oats for the animals. The sway to Glory’s walk brought indecent images into his head. She could do that to a man and not even half try. His gaze followed each line of the curved hips that made him forget how badly the dangerous thoughts scorched him.
Soldier and the white mule sat up and said howdy as she rubbed them between the ears after giving each a portion.
He’d do some nuzzling, too, for less than a little oats.
Envy still rifled through him when she took the pitchfork and thrust it into the hay. The bending movement stretched the britches tight across her backside, outlining her long legs with painstaking clarity.
Have mercy! Hot blood flooded his groin.
“Luke?”
Her upturned face swept to the loft. She had heard his subtle movement.
“Yep, I confess.”
“I felt someone watching me.”
On the climb down, he marveled at her uncanny sensing ability. She seemed to grasp mere thought in the same way her hand did.
“Caught me red-handed.” As he faced her, his voice turned husky.
“Not all I took unaware, it appears.”
Damn! He flung his hands across the tight front of his trousers.
“For someone with no sight, you can darn sure see good.”
“What? Mr. George catching a mouse? I heard the scurry and the satisfied meow.”
Dunce, he called himself, releasing the hold. “Oh, that.”
“My goodness, what did you think I meant?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Lifting a loose curl, he rolled it around his fingers. The satiny texture cast a balm around the ache inside that only she could fix.
“I thought you left—went home to Tranquillity to visit your father’s grave.” Glory seemed a mite breathless.
“Not much I can do for him now. I will soon though. I wanted to be close in case you needed me for something.” Anything, any reason to be near her. “Or in case you might want to talk. How’s Jack?”
“Considering the arduous trip…his time grows short.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more.” He caressed the delicate lines of her face before slipping to the long column of her neck.
“I must look a fright.” She fussed with her hair.
“Darlin’, I’ve seen you at your best, your worst, and everything in between. You happen to be an exceptional, very beautiful lady.”
“Trying to turn a girl’s head with all this sweet talk?”
“Is it working?”
A rosy blush colored her face. The flustered, disarming smile fed his fancies. Yet, it was her slightly parted mouth he found he had no resistance to.
She came easily, her trim waist a snug fit in his palms. Through the thin, worn shirt, her breasts nestled against the hardness of his chest.
He pressed his lips to hers, knowing if he wasted one second it would be way too long.
A groan crept from the place he discovered he never wanted to leave, a paradise where no one could run him off with a stick. Well, wouldn’t make any never mind to him if they tried, he’d only come back. She hadn’t reached for the Winchester yet, or stabbed him, so he reckoned he must stand a chance.
However, dying in her arms had certain merit too. No other place he’d rather be, he reckoned. She already knew how he wanted his tombstone to read.
When at last he dragged his lips from her sweetness, he could barely speak. “Have mercy! Please. Or I’ll have to make an honest woman of you.”
“Before I give my answer, I have to know some things.” Glory ran her tongue with maddening slowness across white teeth.
“Fair enough.” It was agree to that or carry her to a bed of hay.
Both ideas brought repercussions.
“Understand, I won’t ask you to give up your intention of becoming a full-fledged lawman again.”
Strange how the importance of the Ranger’s job that he once ate, slept, and breathed ranked far down the list.
And the silver badge he once would’ve died for?
Law work wasn’t everything. He could learn to farm. Hell, he’d consider himself the luckiest man ever born if he could spend the rest of his days waking up with her beside him!
“It’s my choice. Sure as I stand here, I want you more than I ever wanted anything.”
“What if you find out later you’ve made a terrible mistake? What if you grow to resent having to shoulder the full load? What if—”
Luke kissed the end of her saucy nose. “My father, God rest his soul, believed we were given a knotted rope when we’re born. As we pass through life, each lesson we learn we untie a knot. Maybe, with a little luck, by the time we die, we’ve gotten all the kinks straightened out.” He cupped her face between his hands, tilting it up. “I figure both of us still have a few left and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather untie my knots with.”
“My goodness, that’s the dearest thing I ever heard. I regret I won’t have the pleasure of meeting Walt McClain. I would’ve liked that.”
“Darling, I will be your eyes if you’ll teach me how to see inside here.” He gently placed a hand over her heart.
“I have to say you mount interesting arguments.”
“Listen to me. Nothing on this earth will make me happier than if you’ll quit all this worry and say yes. Take my love and cherish it as I’ll do yours.”
“Love? Are you saying…?” Tears sparkled in the depths of her stonewashed gaze.
“I don’t think I stuttered.” He pulled her into the circle of his arms. “You’re my one and only, Glory. My love, my life, my all. Now, madam, what is your answer to that?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “I do. I will, for all eternity.”
Thirty-two
On August 20, 1881, with Papa by her side, Glory became Mrs. Luke McClain. She brought a sizeable piece of property to the marriage; land that she hoped made up for the property Luke had sacrificed for her family.
“It’s about time,” Squirt had declared. “If you weren’t gonna marry him, I was.”
At least she could depend on baby sis to liven the solemn ceremony.
Hope tried to shush her, but she�
��d have none of that. “I mean it too. And, sister, if you don’t get a move on, I’ll set my cap for Alex O’Brien.”
Horace came to say goodbye. “I gotta go. I’m a Texas Ranger now. Captain Roberts is waiting for me. Pa is real mad, but I don’t care. I’m finally somebody.” He whispered in her ear, “Remember, Mr. Luke has the key that can unlock any door.”
Two days later, Glory lay wrapped in Luke’s arms in a bed in Fort Worth. Sleep had long since vanished.
Lovemaking with a new husband had a way of stealing the need for rest. In fact, it reduced all else to trivial indulgence.
The hotel’s finest bridal suite held a lot of unfamiliar noises and scents, none of the frightening variety. She was safe. And even had they lain in the midst of the loudest, raging storm, she would have no trouble distinguishing the sound of Luke’s quiet breathing. His presence had a way of filling her so completely, it left no room for fear of any sort.
Outside Hotel Alexander, the wind howled, slamming the beginnings of a rain shower against the windowpane.
Once upon a time, when she believed such a wind signaled ill will and danger, the noise would’ve sent foreboding through her bones. Not now.
She smiled and rolled toward Sir Cowboy, Prince of Charmers, letting the barest tips of her fingers trail across the broad expanse of his chest. Never would she tire of touching the man who magically turned ashes of dreams into a life of promise, complete with more bliss than she could imagine. He’d shown her the lady already inside and given everything he possessed for little more than the light in her eyes.
“Umm…I suppose we should get dressed or…we’ll miss that mysterious appointment.”
“You’d better stop or I’ll say to hell with it and give you another lesson in the fine art of wifely pleasures.”
The rakish threat aroused another slew of tingles. When he rose on an elbow, brushed aside her hair to ply her earlobes and neck with hot caresses, tiny pinpricks of excitement marched as one army with a single purpose.
“Me?” The breathy question stole softly from her lips.
“Yep, it’s your fault. See what you started?”
“What can be so all-fired important we can’t miss it?”
Luke gave her a lingering kiss, leaving the taste of him in her mouth. “Sorry to disappoint, darlin’. Get dressed now. Can’t be late.”
The springs squeaked when he sat on the side. Glory threw back the sheet. Only after she heard a loud groan did she remember she didn’t wear a stitch of anything. Amazing how fast a woman in love shed her modesty. She would hide nothing from her helpmate.
They were one heart, one body, one soul forevermore.
He’d best not look if he didn’t want an eyeful, that’s all she had to say.
She reached for the water pitcher, filled the ceramic bowl, and dipped the washcloth. Wringing it, she encountered the smooth metal ring on her finger. Luke had insisted on replacing the token she’d worn. With something more proper, he’d said, grinning. She missed that simple cigar band. It symbolized the purity and depth of their commitment in ways expensive gold bands failed.
Her mind flew to the time they’d spoken of epitaphs and tombstones.
She lived, she died, end of story?
Hardly. She would carve the words Here lies Glory Day McClain, who had the greatest love the world has ever known.
* * *
Glory listened to the click of the latch closing behind them as they left the office of the renowned eye specialist. Soft rain muffled her heels on the wooden sidewalk. Luke took her elbow and steered her toward the hotel. His unusual quiet flung old fears to the surface.
If only she could see the truth on his face!
“Have the regrets I warned you of already begun?”
Permanent blindness, Dr. Smith had told them. No surprise to her. She’d accepted such a verdict. Her stomach twisted with dread. Would he not want the damaged goods he’d gotten?
Perhaps the depth of her disability had not sunk in until he’d heard it from a learned man of science.
How could she, in all faith, hold him?
Luke helped her carefully manage the hotel steps a few doors down. “Lady, I have not one qualm. I will take you with sight or blind, with shoes or barefoot, makes no difference. Dr. Smith’s opinion doesn’t change the fact that I happen to love you.”
Brimming tears of happiness swept aside the last of her doubts. “Then why did you drag us here?”
“Santa Anna’s esteemed sawbones.”
“You spoke with Ted Dalton?” The image of the two men conversing brought a smile. He must truly have tender feelings for her to consult the man he envied.
“That so hard to believe? I have nothing against Dalton. He can’t flirt with your affections now. Well, he can, but he’d better not if he knows what’s best for him. Mrs. McClain, you are legally bound to me, lock, stock, and barrel. I can afford to be generous.”
“But why did he advise you to seek out an eye specialist? He said himself my sight would never return.”
“I wanted to make absolutely sure. He hinted there might be a speck of hope. And if I could do something… I just wanted to leave no stone unturned, that’s all.”
Mr. Fix-It at work again. She thought she’d broken him of the habit. A happy grin spread over her face. You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t make him drink.
Didn’t matter. Nothing could dampen her mood. Her husband could be as imperfect as he wished.
Luke was hers to cherish.
She had that in writing on her heart.
He’d never leave.
Except when he had law work to do. A smile touched her lips. Santa Anna should have a sheriff before long. Luke just didn’t know it yet. He had no monopoly on fixing things. He had no idea the can of worms he’d opened.
But in the meantime, while she was breaking him in, she meant to give him more lessons in reading her mind.
The strong arm around her waist heated the embers they’d had to hurriedly bank earlier. A change in the steady rhythm of his heart against her shoulder promised another ride on the magic carpet of the man called McClain.
She broke into a faster walk.
Dear Reader:
History bears witness to the places I mention in this story. Camp Colorado was one in a line of forts stretched across Texas that protected settlers from the Indians. Forts were largely responsible for taming the West. Camp Colorado was commissioned and built in 1856 on the Colorado River. Due to a malaria outbreak, however, it was moved in 1857 to north of the town of Coleman. It served the area well until federal troops abandoned it in 1861. The site then became the property of Henry Sackett.
The town of Santa Anna was settled in the early 1870s under the name “The Gap” because it sat between twin mesas in central Coleman County. The mountainous range became known as the home of the Comanche war chief Santanna. In 1879, settlers filed a petition to open a post office and they chose to rename the town Santa Anna.
Bead Mountain also exists. It was an old Indian burial ground. People in the area began referring to it by that name because heavy rains would wash beads out of the ground. It’s also rumored to be haunted by spirits of the earliest Americans.
Then, of course, the Texas Rangers—those fearless men who gave their all. No job was too large or too small. They tackled whatever was asked of them and gave 100 percent to seeing it done. Much has been unjustly attributed to them—a swaggering walk, a dead shot, a man who bragged. In truth, Walter Prescott Webb said it best: “A real Ranger has been a very quiet, deliberate, gentle person who could gaze calmly into the eye of a murderer, divine his thoughts, and anticipate his action, a man who could ride straight up to death.” Their feats stand as testament to the great state of Texas.
The Rangers continue to exist and they are just as courageous as their earlier count
erparts who helped lay down the creed they live by today. Texas Rangers are synonymous with justice, compassion, and dedication. In this story, Luke was a simple man who embodied overwhelming duty. He was a man who “kept on coming” despite the odds. I hope you agree.
Best,
Linda Broday
About the Author
At a young age, Linda Broday discovered a love for storytelling, history, and anything pertaining to the Old West. Cowboys fascinate her. There’s something about Stetsons, boots, and tall, rugged cowboys that get her fired up. A New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Linda has won many awards, including the prestigious National Readers’ Choice Award and the Texas Gold Award. She resides in the Texas Panhandle on the Llano Estacado.
Also by Linda Broday
Texas Redemption
Bachelors of Battle Creek
Texas Mail Order Bride
Twice a Texas Bride
Forever His Texas Bride
Men of Legend
To Love a Texas Ranger
The Heart of a Texas Cowboy
To Marry a Texas Outlaw
Texas Heroes
Knight on the Texas Plains
The Cowboy Who Came Calling
Thank you for reading!
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