Montana Maverick

by Ramona Flightner

  Her face tilted into his touch as though against her will as he stroked her cheek. “But I’ve been miserable without you. And it’s not only because I miss your touch, the passion you can evoke.” She raised fearful eyes to meet his. “I miss our conversations. Your jokes. You.” She blinked rapidly, but two tears slipped from her eyes. “I don’t want to live without you.”

  He remained silent but shook his head in confusion.

  “I … I love you.” She bit her lip and then cupped his face with her hands, running her fingers through his beard. “Will you marry me?”

  He gave a small whoop before bending forward and capturing her lips in another kiss. He backed her until she was against the wall, his body bracketing hers as the kiss deepened farther. He raised his head, only to slip kisses along her neck. When she shivered as he nipped her earlobe, he murmured, “That’s yes, in case ye were confused.”

  He pulled back when she burst into tears. “Jessie?” he whispered as his thumbs attempted and failed to swipe away her tears as quickly as they fell. He pulled her to him and cradled her.

  “I thought you wouldn’t want me. Not after all the horrible things I’ve written about you.” She sucked in a stuttering breath.

  He chuckled. “Ye’ve no’ said anything horrible, love. Ye were courtin’ me in yer own way. I was too stupid to figure it out in the beginnin’, but I did eventually.” His fingers tugged and pulled at her hair, freeing it from its pins. “This is our house, Jessie, if that is acceptable to ye. I built it for me, but, after only a few weeks, I couldna come here without thinkin’ of ye.”

  He sobered as she remained quiet. “I ken ’tis not as grand as the homes ye are accustomed to. I ken ye are used to mansions. When I’m able, I’ll build us a bigger home.”

  She slapped her fingers over his mouth and shook her head, sniffling as tears continued to cascade down her cheeks. “No, Ewan, you will not. You built this home for us. This is our home. Will be our home.” She leaned forward until her forehead rested against his. “I love it.”

  He pulled her close, sighing with contentment to have her in his arms again. “It may prove too small once we have bairns,” he murmured.

  “Let’s worry about that when the time comes,” she whispered.

  After a moment he straightened, kissing her on the top of her head. “Will ye come home with me? Have dinner at the house?” He watched as trepidation clouded her eyes. “They will accept ye because I love ye.” He smiled as her breath caught at his declaration. “They will adore ye if ye promise to cease writing snide articles about the townsfolk.”

  She smiled. “I make no promises.” She gripped his hand as he chuckled and followed him from what would be their home.

  “When do ye want to wed?” he asked as they headed toward the home he had shared with his siblings since he had arrived in Bear Grass Springs three years ago.

  “I don’t care as long as it is soon.”

  He slipped her hand through his bent elbow as they walked from the smaller house he built near Alistair and Leticia’s. He led Jessamine to the boardwalk, rather than along the alley, as the pathway was muddy after a late-November snow squall had melted. He nodded, unable to hide his smile of contentment when the townsfolk watched in shock as they traveled arm in arm down the boardwalk. After they passed the Odd Fellows Hall, he helped her down the boardwalk steps to cross Main Street to Cailean’s house.

  He paused as her steps slowed. “It will be all right, Jessie. I promise.” At his encouraging nod, she took a deep breath and walked beside him, up the steps through the front door. He helped her out of her shawl, hanging it and her hat on a peg. His eyes lit with joy to see her hair remained mussed after their kisses, and he stifled a chuckle as she hastily poked in pins to give it a semblance of order.

  When Ewan entered the kitchen, holding Jessamine’s hand, the soft hum of conversation slowed to a halt.

  Annabelle, who stood at the stove, was the first to approach and to smile at Jessamine. “Hello, Miss McMahon. What a pleasure to have you join us for our evening meal.”

  Cailean shared a long, hard look with his brother before nodding. “Aye, welcome, Miss McMahon.” He stood behind Annabelle with a hand placed on her shoulder. “Alistair and Leticia are joining us tonight.”

  Ewan smiled, ignoring the subtle warning in his brother’s tone. “Wonderful.” He gave Jessamine a gentle nudge, and she stepped farther into the kitchen. Soon she was seated at the table with Ewan beside her.

  Sorcha burst into the room, her gaze on Cailean and Annabelle, ignoring those at the table. “Can ye believe the daft woman has yet to act?” she asked as though in the middle of a conversation.

  “Sorch,” Ewan said in a deep voice.

  She turned to him, her face reddened and her hands waving about as she expounded her point. When she saw Jessamine seated beside her brother, her eyebrows rose, and her eyes widened. “Oh, so ye did act!” She smiled as she sat beside Ewan and gave him a gentle nudge.

  “We’ll talk later,” Ewan whispered in her ear.

  “There’s nothin’ to talk about,” Sorcha said. “I advised the reporter how she was a daft fool, and it seems she’s come to her senses.”

  Alistair and Leticia arrived with Hortence, Leticia’s gait hitching as she caught sight of Jessamine at the table. She turned to Alistair and shook her head. Alistair spoke soothing words to Leticia, before sending a searching look at Ewan. At his shrug, Alistair half smiled. “So ye finally convinced her?” He focused on Leticia who remained stiff as a board, any pleasure at the family meal diminished by Jessamine’s presence.

  Alistair ran a hand down Leticia’s back and settled her far away from Jessamine, although that meant she was across the table from her. She leaned into his touch a moment before stiffening her spine and sitting with her shoulders back.

  Hortence stared at Jessamine and scrunched up her face, as though deep in thought. “Why do you print lies?” She looked at her family members at their collective deep indrawn breath. “Jake at school says you can’t help it. It’s what all reporters do.”

  Jessamine flushed, her hands gripped together under the table on her lap. “I am not a liar.”

  “Is it because you have red hair? That’s what the boys tell me at school. They think I’m a liar too.” She fingered the end of her long braid, her red hair shimmering in the light.

  Jessamine’s gaze softened. “Your hair color has nothing to do with truthfulness. Does having blond hair make Mrs. Jameson an oracle of the truth?”

  Her question earned startled giggles from the adults and a puzzled expression from Hortence.

  “I don’t know what an ore ankle is, but I know you wanted to print lies about my mama,” Hortence said. “I heard Mama and Papa whispering about it when they thought I couldn’t hear. Mama and Papa don’t lie.” She tilted her chin up in defiance like she’d seen her aunts do and stared down Jessamine.

  “I never published anything about your mother. I was … persuaded to see another point of view.” She met the little girl’s eyes and smiled. “You’re very brave.”

  “I have to be brave. If I’m to marry a chief’s son, I must be.”

  Leticia sputtered, and Alistair’s eyes bulged as the others laughed. “Hortence, you just turned seven in September. You aren’t marrying anyone!”

  “But Mama, Bears is wonderful! He’s as good with horses as Papa.”

  “Yes, but he’s like an uncle to you. That’s all he is or can be, darling,” Leticia soothed. She speared Jessamine with a severe glare. “If you print any of this, you will wish you were dead.”

  Jessamine shook her head. “No, I am here as a friend, not as a reporter.” Her flush heightened. “I know that I betrayed Ewan’s trust once when I told him that before, but I truly mean what I say here today.”

  Hortence sat, deflated in her chair. “But Bears is wonderful, Mama. He listens when I talk and talk.” She frowned when her uncles laughed.

  Alistair ran a hand over
her head. “Someday ye’ll meet the perfect man. For now, enjoy life. Enjoy bein’ seven.”

  Hortence grumbled her agreement, only perking up when Annabelle whispered she had apple pie for dessert.

  Annabelle smiled at Jessamine. “We all know you acted as you did because you knew of no other way to maintain your courtship with Ewan.” She bit her lip. “I beg your pardon. I spoke out of turn.”

  Ewan shook his head and smiled. He gripped Jessamine’s hand under the table. “No, ye are correct, Anna. Jessie and I are to wed. As soon as possible.” He and Jessamine shared a gaze filled with longing and love, missing his family’s shocked expressions. He faced Annabelle. “Will ye make us a cake?”

  She moved to him and hugged him and then Jessamine. “Of course I will. We’ll have such a celebration for you both!”

  Annabelle’s ready acceptance induced similar reactions from the rest of the family, and soon they stood around the table, embracing and laughing.

  Leticia was the last to approach Jessamine. She met Leticia’s wary gaze and nodded. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise I will never publish that article.”

  Leticia watched her with a concerned expression. “The fact it exists at all concerns me.”

  “I know. It would worry me too.” She took a deep breath. “I will give you the proof copy. Give you my research notes. You can decide what to do with them. Keep them or burn them. It will be your decision.”

  “Why?” Leticia asked, unable to hide the surprise from her voice.

  “I’ve learned that I don’t need to be a heartless reporter. I can be something else and still be successful,” she whispered.

  Alistair joined them and wrapped an arm around Leticia’s waist after she leaned into him. “If ye keep writing like yer last paper, ye’ll have the town excited to see ye.”

  Jessamine grimaced. “Rather than fearful, you mean?” At his shrug, she smiled. “Well, as of now, that is my plan, although I will continue to report on local and national events.”

  Alistair’s serious gaze met hers. “If ye are no’ serious about Ewan, dinna play him false.”

  She took in a startled breath at his words, then looked at Ewan speaking with Cailean near the stove. “No, no. I cannot tell you how much I care for him.” Her eyes glowed with sincerity.

  Alistair nodded. “Good,” he whispered. He turned as Cailean raised his voice in a toast to his brother and his fiancée, and Jessamine moved to stand beside Ewan. She tucked herself into his side.

  “Are ye all right?” Ewan whispered. “I thought I should leave ye alone to speak with Lettie.”

  “I’m fine.” She breathed as she pressed herself farther into his embrace. “It’s a little overwhelming being surrounded by your family.”

  He chuckled. “Ye’ll accustom yerself to us.”

  She heard the hope in his words and snuggled closer. “I will,” she promised.

  Cailean cleared his throat again, and she focused on the eldest MacKinnon. “To Ewan and Jessamine. May you only know joy, health, and harmony in the many years you have together.” He beamed at his youngest brother and then at Jessamine.

  The family raised their glasses and said, “Aye!” or “Hear! Hear!”

  Cailean cleared his throat again, and the impromptu celebration paused. “I have it on good authority that Mrs. Jameson has left town for a few days. Seems a cousin is ill in Helena. If I were you, I’d wed while she is away.”

  Ewan gave a grunt of agreement. “Aye. We’ll marry with all haste. The gossips be damned.”

  Chapter 16

  The day before his wedding, Ewan worked in the home he would share with Jessamine. He whistled while he hung curtains, frowning as he backed away. “I think they’re crooked,” he muttered to himself. He shrugged and moved into the kitchen area where he unpacked a box of foodstuffs from the Merc.

  “I always find it disappointing to see a man doing women’s work.” Mr. Abbott stood in the doorway to Ewan’s house, his long black coat buttoned shut with a red scarf around his neck. He held his black top hat in his hand, and his brown hair was shellacked in place with a thick layer of pomade.

  “Mr. Abbott,” Ewan said. “Close the door behind ye as ye leave.” He glared at the man as Mr. Abbott entered, closing himself inside the space with Ewan. “Ye are no’ welcome here.”

  Jessamine’s father chuckled as he wandered the small living area. “You actually believe my daughter would be content living in such a pathetic little home? She is accustomed to a mansion, my dear boy.” He smiled as he saw Ewan stiffen. “Not some patched-together shack by a second-rate carpenter.”

  “I’m excellent at my trade,” Ewan snapped.

  “Ah, yes, a tradesman. Just what any father should wish for his only daughter.” Mr. Abbott fingered the yellow curtain Ewan had just hung and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “You’d have to expect a father to object to you. A drunkard. A gambler. A whoremonger.”

  Ewan stiffened. “I am none of those things.” His nostrils flared as he fisted his hands, and he faced his adversary.

  “Yes, you are—and worse. You’re a defiler of innocents.” Mr. Abbott held up his hand. “I know you believe Jessamine’s story that she was taken advantage of by that editor, but you should know she has always been adept at fabricating tales. It’s why she has had such success as a newspaperwoman.”

  Ewan half smiled. “I think I have a better idea than ye if what she told me were true or no’.” His mocking smile acted as fuel to her father’s ire, and her father grabbed Ewan’s collar. However, they were nearly the same height, and Ewan was accustomed to hard work on a daily basis. He pushed Mr. Abbott away, his eyes flashing a warning.

  “How dare you imply that you have defiled my daughter!”

  “Dinna think to touch me again, old man. I’ll no’ show ye respect the next time.” He let out a deep breath. “Say what ye’ve come to say an’ then leave.”

  Mr. Abbott ran a hand over his coat and picked up his forgotten top hat. “I would offer you financial compensation to forego this foolish notion of marrying my wayward daughter.” He paused as he saw interest in Ewan’s gaze. “I will be most generous.”

  “How generous?” Ewan asked.

  “How does $10,000 sound?” Mr. Abbott asked.

  Ewan ran a hand through his hair and turned away from Jessamine’s father. He took a deep breath and then another. “Meet me at the lawyer’s in an hour.” He spun to glare at the man before Mr. Abbott clapped him on his back.

  Ewan watched Jessamine’s father depart, and he perched on a windowsill, his mind racing. After a few minutes he rose to prepare for his meeting with her father.

  “You’re certain you want to do this?” Warren asked Ewan, rubbing at his temple. They sat sequestered in his private room at the back of his office with the door shut. “It could prove disastrous.”

  “Aye. ’Tis a gamble. I ken that. But I need to do it.” He met Warren’s troubled gaze. “I need ye to be as wily as Alistair said ye are.”

  Warren nodded and then motioned for him to move to the front room. “He’ll be here soon.” They settled into chairs at the table near the potbellied stove. Warren rose with deferential grace as Mr. Abbott entered, extending his hand and taking his coat to hang on a peg near the warm stove. When Jessamine’s father sat at the table, Warren cleared his throat. “I need you to understand, Mr. Abbott, that Mr. MacKinnon has already explained the particulars of your request to me and that I have been retained by him.”

  Mr. Abbott smiled. “That is fine. Saves me the expense of lawyer fees.”

  Warren extracted three pages. “I always like to have a duplicates in case one is destroyed.” He turned them so they faced Ewan and Mr. Abbott. “I hereby declare, as witnessed by my hand and date below, that I will no longer pursue Miss Jessamine Phyllis Abbott McMahon. I will exert no influence over her future decisions and said decisions are hers alone.”

  Warren continued to read the contract about the terms, wh
ere the money was to be deposited, and the loss of funds should the contract be violated. After a moment, he raised guileless eyes to Mr. Abbott. “Is this satisfactory?”

  Mr. Abbott chuckled and grabbed the pen, inking his name at the bottom. He waited as Ewan did the same to the three copies. “I assume one of these is mine?” At Warren’s nod, Abbott rose, grabbed his coat, and marched out the door.

  Ewan sat back and let out a deep breath. “Thank ye, Warren.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. You don’t know if Jessamine will see through this.”

  Ewan rapped his fingers on the table. “When she calms down from her anger, I hope she will.” He stood. “I hope I’m not the only one arriving at the church tomorrow.”

  Jessamine glared at the door as it burst open and then glowered at who stood in the doorway. “I thought you had the good sense to leave town.”

  Her father laughed as he waved a sheet of paper at her. “No, I would never admit defeat, daughter dear. You know me better than that.” His polished shoes made a clicking sound on her wood floors. “If you believed those pathetic café owners would force me to leave, then you’ve forgotten who I am.”

  “I’m not alone here, Father. I have friends. I marry tomorrow.” She paled as her father laughed.

  “Yes, I imagine you consider that lawyer your friend. I wonder what you would think were you to know how eager he was to write up a contract between your supposed fiancé and me, making null and void any engagement.” His smile broadened as she paled to the point she looked gutted.

  “Give me that,” she said, grabbing the document from his hand. She read it through twice, tears falling over her cheeks by the time she had finished the second reading. “He couldn’t. He wouldn’t,” she breathed.

  “He did. Seems he’s more sensible than I gave him credit for.” Her father leaned forward and gripped her shoulder. “Money wins out, Jessamine. It always will.” He looked around her small shop and shook his head in disgust. “We will leave tomorrow on the train.”