To Wed In Texas

by Jodi Thomas

  In the three years since May died, he'd never looked at another woman. He didn't want to care about another and run the chance of losing again. All he wanted to do was live with May's daughters and May's memory. That was enough for this lifetime.

  He'd never asked anyone out, or hinted that he would. He'd never even danced with a saloon girl, or flirted at a social.

  But he'd kissed Karlee!

  He had to be honest with her. She had a right to know he'd never marry her. He never wanted a wife or any more children to have to raise alone. His life and his bed were too full of memories to allow another woman in.

  Daniel slipped the velvet ribbon back in between the folds of a book.

  If he had to be honest with Karlee, he had to be honest with himself as well. He'd never kissed a woman the way he'd just kissed Karlee. Never!

  When he'd decided to kiss her, it had just been something he planned to get over with and go on. He could understand how a woman who'd never been kissed might want to know what it was like. He'd thought to deliver a hard, cold, impersonal kiss and be done with it.

  But before he'd gotten up enough nerve to do it, she demanded he forget the request and ran away. And he'd snapped. First she told him what to do, then she told him not to do it.

  Daniel paced around the dark room wishing he could shove the walls away. Everything in the barn was too small. Everything in the house was too small. Suddenly this town, this state, this planet was too small.

  Without looking back, he left the barn and headed toward the edge of town. He'd walk out his frustration, then he would come back and work in his shop until his eyes refused to stay open. Then, maybe, he'd be able to get a few hours of sleep before he apologized to Karlee.

  He almost ran until he reached Big Cypress Creek. As always, the ancient trees welcomed him. Their shadows invited him to disappear into the folds. The sounds of the night were not slight and recognizable as they had been when he was a boy in Corydon, Indiana. Here, the calls of the night were a hundred low cries beating together in a rhythm dark and forbidding. The water along the shore didn't lap in welcome, but ebbed and flowed as if wanting to pull all life into its depths.

  “May,” he called, knowing he'd see her face in the water. “May.”

  He stared harder. The wind whistled through ancient branches, calling her name to Heaven.

  “May!”

  For the first time, he couldn't summon the face of his sweet, young wife. She'd been his life, the reason he did everything. He forced his eyes closed and tried to picture her in his mind, but tonight the image wasn't clear. She was only a shadow moving through his memories. He remembered their long talks, but the subjects escaped him. He thought of the times they'd laughed, but couldn't think of the reason. The nights of lovemaking drifted thought his mind, but the feel of passion no longer throbbed his body with need.

  She'd been tiny with dark hair and eyes. He'd called her angel. Daniel could think the thoughts in his mind, but the image of her wouldn't appear. She had a smile just for him that no one else ever saw. She never raised her voice. She made his world complete.

  “May,” he whispered, but the water remained dark.

  Daniel sat on the edge of the water and lowered his head in his hands. He'd lost her all over again.

  Karlee didn't know whether to be happy or sad. She'd been kissed, that was for sure. Only the man who'd done the deed ran.

  She looked at herself in the tiny mirror over her chest of drawers. In truth, she could find nothing pretty or particularly ugly about her. Her nose was straight but definitely no button. Her chin was strong but not pointed. Her eyes seemed the right size. And her hair, when she kept it combed down, looked almost brown.

  But something must be very, very wrong with her, she thought. Daniel was a strong man, seasoned in war and widowed in love, yet he ran like a rabbit at the first round being fired. He'd done his duty and kissed her. Maybe all her relatives should give him a medal for that. After all, it was the first time she'd gotten a kiss since her parents died. A few times kinfolk had almost kissed her, but the affection had been lost in the air a few inches from her cheek.

  But Daniel had really kissed her. Once on the cheek when they'd been in the kitchen and once fully. In her life, these few days in Texas could be classified as a regular epidemic of affection.

  Karlee crawled into bed. She couldn't wait for tomorrow to come. Good or bad, it was bound to be interesting.

  Her prayers had been answered. Adventure had found her at last.

  Deep into the night, Daniel raised his head. Strong winds circled across the creek and harassed branches above him. The far away smell of a campfire danced in the wind, and the creek rustled with tiny ripples as if irritated by a change in nature.

  Daniel stood, sensing trouble. He glanced toward the quiet town like a knight of old would have watched a sleeping dragon.

  At first, all looked well, the outline of buildings along the water. Jefferson was a small village with wide streets and gas lights on every corner, just like a real city.

  Then he saw it. A flame too great to be lamplight. A flame that lit the midnight sky to early dawn.

  “Fire!” he yelled as if there were someone to hear.

  He broke into a dead run toward the flames that seemed to grow as he identified them. Orange and gold flickers danced along a two-story structure and jumped to other buildings as though escaping the blaze. By the time he reached the outskirts of Dallas Street, the flicker had grown to a monster.

  The dragon had awakened.

  Several buildings were ablaze. People ran everywhere, some saving their property, some in fear, some looting warehouses in the dawn-like light of chaos. In this town of wealth and trade, no one had thought to organize any kind of fire department. Panic spread faster than flames.

  Daniel watched a whirl of ashes climb toward Heaven like a mini-tornado. The twister caught in the wind and funneled high in the sky. Ashes, still red with life, scattered across rooftops like crimson rain. The fire was spreading. In a few blocks it would reach his church. Another block his house. Daniel turned and ran.

  He plowed through his kitchen door without slowing down. “Karlee! Get the twins. You've got to get out of here.”

  He was halfway up the stairs before she opened her door. “Will it spread?” She was buttoning her blouse, telling Daniel the fire had already awakened her. “How long do we have?”

  “I'm not sure. It looks like at least a block of downtown is already burning. I'll hitch the wagon. Can you drive to the Buchanans' place? Most of the men are gone, but Deut and his younger sons are still home. You'll be safe there.”

  “I can,” Karlee answered as she ran for the twins' room.

  He hoped she wasn't lying. There was no time for discussion. He hitched the team and pulled it to the back of the house. She hurried out with a twin in each arm. A large bundle hung over one shoulder like a cotton picking sack.

  “I threw what I could of clothes in a sheet.” She surprised him with her calm. “We're ready.”

  Daniel helped them into the wagon. The fires pushed midnight away. The air was summer hot even though it was only early March. As he kissed each child, he thanked Heaven for the cradle he'd attached to the back of the wagon's bench. The twins would be safe as Karlee gave her full attention to driving.

  “Aren't you coming?” She lifted the reins with skill.

  “I have to do what I can here,” he answered. “I'll be all right.” He closed his hand around hers in reassurance. “Take care of the girls, Karlee. Don't worry about me.”

  Before she could answer, a rider pounded into the small yard on a horse that looked half-mad from the flames. The horseman reined with expert skill, fighting the animal's desire to remain at full gallop.

  Wolf yelled for Karlee to wait as he climbed off his mount and slung a body he carried over his shoulder.

  “Hold up,” he stormed toward them. “I got something you need to get out of town.”

  H
e slammed the figure wrapped in a saddle blanket into the back of the wagon. “You're going to Deut's, right?”

  Karlee nodded, speechlessly watching the blanket wiggle.

  “Tell Deut to watch him close, and whatever he does, don't untie him.” Wolf stepped back and wiped his brow. “And if he can, be gentle with the man. Don't hurt him.”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow as a bare leg kicked free of the blanket, but asked no questions of his friend.

  “Tell Deut I'll explain more later. He already knows some.” Wolf slapped the wagon team into action and yelled, “Remind him if the fellow gets free, it'll take ten men to hold him back down.”

  Karlee had her hands full fighting the reins. The horses smelled the fire now and were edgy. She glanced back at the twins riding in their box. They were both watching the blanket tossing in the back of the wagon with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

  Another bare leg kicked free. She drove the team faster than she'd ever driven horses. Luckily, the road was clear and smooth. The girls were safe. She didn't want to even think about what might happen if whoever was under the blanket managed to get uncovered.

  She tried to ignore the noise from the back of the wagon. Finally, she slowed and dared a glance.

  Standing in the center of the wagon bed, balancing as best he could was a full-grown, mostly-naked Indian. He fought wildly against the ropes binding him.

  Karlee let out a cry and slowed more. She knew what he was. She'd heard of Plains Indians and how they were wild cold-blooded killers. This must be one. His hair was long and black, his eyes fiery coals, his body, all that she could see, which was most of him, was the warm brown of the earth.

  “I'm going to be killed,” she mumbled even though the man's hands were tied behind his back and his mouth gagged. “We'll be murdered right here on the road and no one will find us because of the fire and we'll be buzzard meat. I've read the dime novels, I know,” she said to herself. “The wild savages have to kill a few people and the women and children are always the first to go.”

  She glanced again. He'd taken a step toward her and the twins. One arm was almost free of the ropes.

  “Sit down!” she yelled the order as if she expected to be obeyed.

  He looked like he could beat them all to death even with his hands tied.

  “I got a gun!” She tried to make her words a growl.

  He didn't show any sign of understanding, or caring. His eyes blazed through her with such hatred the stare might kill her. His chest heaved up and down like a bull preparing to charge.

  Her grip of the reins tightened. She stared back at him and tried not to look frightened out of her skin.

  The twins began to cry.

  He had no right to scare the children. Anger mixed with the fear in her blood. “Stop frightening the children!” she screamed at him.

  The twins cried louder.

  Wolf had told her to be gentle with the monster he'd so carelessly thrown into her wagon. She'd not have the girls frightened out of a year's growth by any man, monster or not.

  “I said sit down!” She slapped at the horses. Maybe she could make it to the Buchanans before he killed her. She'd never win in a fight, but she could drive.

  A sudden jolt shook the wagon, but Karlee didn't slow down. She slapped the horses again and glanced back to see how near death hovered.

  The man was gone!

  Karlee pulled the leather so hard she felt it cut into her palms. “He must have jumped out,” she said aloud. “I'll tell Wolf that's what happened and we'll be done with the wild man.”

  She looked at the girls, who were both shaking their heads as though they'd come loose during the ride.

  “He didn't jump out?” Karlee shook her head at the same rate.

  “He bounced up,” one said with a sniffle.

  “And over,” the other finished.

  Karlee turned the team and headed back. After a few yards, she stopped and tied the reins. “Stay still, girls,” she ordered as she climbed down from the bench. “I'd better go the rest of the way back alone.”

  Clinching her fingers around the derringer in her pocket, she ventured forward. If he wasn't already dead, she might just shoot him for being such a bother.

  She hadn't gone twenty feet behind the wagon when she saw the prisoner lying in the center of the road. The moon shone off his bare skin. He lay flat with his arms and legs outstretched, his ropes circling his body loosely.

  “I've killed him! Wolf said be gentle, so I killed him.” She ran to the man and lifted his mud-covered head. “First, I almost kill Wolf. Now, I murder his bloodthirsty savage.”

  “No one in their right mind jumps out of a traveling wagon on their head,” she reprimanded, as if he'd had a choice. “I didn't kill you. You killed yourself. I told you to sit down.”

  She leaned down into his face and felt his slow breathing against her cheek. He was still alive!

  Karlee gripped his arm and dragged him back to the wagon. He didn't seem to weigh all that much. He must be her height, but he was thinner than a lean crop scarecrow. Now that he was limp as a rag doll, he didn't seem nearly so frightening.

  When she reached the wagon, she dropped his arm and tried to think how to get him in the flat bed. It didn't seem right to put her arms around his bare body. He wasn't a child she could just pick up. But there was no help. Unless she planned to be on this road all night, she had to do something.

  Reaching for him, Karlee encircled his chest with her arms. He smelled of rancid bacon grease and mud and the sad end of a cow.

  She let go, dropping him back into the dirt with a thud.

  The twins laughed. They thought she was playing a trick on the near-dead blood-thirsty savage.

  Karlee grabbed the blanket Wolf brought him in and repackaged the strange man inside. Then she tied a rope around and around the middle. If the stranger got loose again, he'd be taking the saddle blanket with him.

  Slowly, she lifted him once more, trying not to breathe as she rolled him into the wagon bed.

  “I said, sit down!” she repeated. “A man should really listen to a woman.”

  He fell into the wagon with a thump.

  “Now stay there,” she ordered. “I'll have no more trouble out of you.”

  Karlee circled the wagon and climbed back on the bench. “Sit down, girls,” she ordered, slapping the horses with the reins.

  Both girls plopped down in their box.

  No one said a word until they reached the Buchanan farm. By the time Karlee stopped the wagon and climbed down, lamps were being lit inside the main house and one of the younger men came running from the barn.

  Deut was the first on the porch. He seemed lost in trying to straighten his suspenders for a moment before he spoke. “Is that you, Miss Karlee?”

  “It's me,” Karlee answered, thinking she'd had enough excitement for one day. She lifted one twin to the porch. “The town is on fire. Daniel sent me here. Can we stay the night?” She was too tired to say more than was necessary.

  Deut just stood there fiddling with his suspenders as though his brain hadn't awakened yet. He needed time to understand her words.

  “Of course you can,” Granny answered from just behind her aging son. She slapped Deut on the back with her cane, priming him to act.

  Karlee handed Granny the other twin.

  The woman added, “I'll take the girls to Willow's room. Sammy's away on the drive, and she'll enjoy you all as company. We'll put a cot in with her for you to sleep on.”

  “Thanks.” Karlee let out a long breath and started to follow, then remembered her captive.

  “Before I go in,” she backed toward the wagon with Deut finally awake enough to join her. “I think you better have a look at who else I brought, Mr. Buchanan.”

  Deut picked up the lantern and peered over the wagon's side, as did three of his sons who'd joined them on the porch. One of the men scooted the roll of blanket to the edge and untied it carefully.

 
The blanket slipped away from the Indian's face as Karlee repeated Wolf's instructions.

  To her surprise, none of the Buchanan men looked shocked at the near-dead, near-naked, blood-thirsty savage she'd brought.

  “I almost killed him,” Karlee whispered. “He fell out of the wagon.”

  She watched as Deut tenderly brushed the black hair away from the sleeping man's face then ran a hand over his scalp checking for cuts or bumps.

  She saw the prisoner's features for the first time in the lantern light. He was little more than a boy. Out cold, he wasn't near as frightening. Several days growth of beard outlined his deeply tanned and dirty face.

  “I didn't mean to,” she added, trying to remember if she'd ever seen a picture of a Plains Indian with a beard.

  Deut pushed the dirt from the savage's face. “Lift him up carefully, boys, and take him to the cellar. Tie him three times what you would a normal man before you doctor him. Then bolt the door. One of you stand watch all night. No one opens the door unless we're all standing there.”

  Karlee watched the sons followed their father's orders. One cradled the young man in his arms and walked toward the cellar while another grabbed a bucket of water from the well. The third passed Karlee, mumbling something about getting bandages and food.

  “Is he a friend?” she asked. The caring was there, but they planned to tie him. Maybe he was a madman they all knew who only thought he was an Indian. She'd heard of families keeping insane relatives tied and locked in cellars.

  “No,” Deut answered. “I never seen him before. Wolf told me a few days ago that he was holding him in one of the warehouses down by the waterfront until the other McLains arrived. My guess is the building was burning, or Wolf wouldn't have taken the chance of moving him. I'm surprised he let the boy out of his sight.”

  “The chance? What chance?”

  “If that young man gets free, he'll do whatever he needs to do to escape, including kill anyone who might try to get in his way. And knowing the McLains like I do, I'd bet anything Wolf and Daniel would be right in his way. They plan to keep him here until Daniel's brothers arrive.”

  “But who is he?”