When she handed it to him, he said, “Why don’t you go on back to your sewing, Mrs. Tucker.” Then he added so that only she could hear, “Or else.”
“Or else what?” She sassed him in a matching whisper, since she intended to do exactly that.
“You don’t want to know.” Humor flashed in his eyes. And she thought Stewbold had a chance of getting out of here with his hide attached, after all.
Hiram, adjusting his glasses, said from behind them, “I had no idea I’d come out here to find Miss Wilde married.”
Shannon turned in time to see Stewbold glance at Tucker’s leg in a dismissive way, as if judging Tucker to be useless if he couldn’t get out of bed. “Perhaps I can come back with the correct paper work to change the ownership to your name, Mr. Tucker. Land agents don’t usually deliver paper work to be updated. Our job is to inspect the homesteads and make sure all the rules pertaining to building the structures and living on the property are met. But I can see you are not up to meeting your obligations to this claim. I would be willing to make a return trip.”
Shannon drew in a long, silent breath. The man appeared to have absolutely no survival instincts, because he sat down at her table, crossed his legs, and sipped in a noisy manner at the tin cup she gave him. She prayed Mr. Stewbold got out of her cabin while he still had firm possession of all his teeth.
Tucker’s jaw tightened until Shannon hoped his teeth didn’t crack. Then there might be two men in this room with dental problems.
Then the door flew open, and a problem stormed into the room that Shannon had hoped she could avoid forever.
“You got married?”
Pa had heard about the wedding.
“To him!” Pa’s finger jabbed at Tucker.
Who swiveled his eyes to the half-sewn pants she’d draped over her chair, then on to Shannon. Tucker might very well have burned her right to a crisp. Eyes weren’t real fire, and it was a good thing, but she’d be switched if she couldn’t feel scorch marks.
Out of pure mischief mostly, she’d poked along and not gotten Tucker’s clothes finished, and now Pa had arrived and there Tucker lay, wearing a dress, his foot propped up. Not in any way up to meeting her cantankerous old coot of a pa.
Pa had prodded and snarled and goaded until he’d convinced Shannon and her sister to disguise themselves as men and fight in the War Between the States. He’d done more of the same by convincing them to homestead as men.
Their years spent serving in the war could be taken off the years proving up as homesteaders, and Shannon had spent three years fighting. So her five years of work to earn her homestead was dropped to two. Except Aaron Masterson, the former land agent, now her brother-in-law, had seen through Kylie’s disguise almost instantly, and Shannon’s and Bailey’s shortly afterward. He’d denied them their service exemption.
Which seemed completely unfair, since they’d indeed served.
Shannon intended to be here permanently, so whether two years or five years, it didn’t matter. But it was the principle of the thing. She had served. She’d earned that exemption. It still burned that she’d been denied it.
It was Pa’s plan to create a dynasty out here in the West, all in honor of his son, Jimmy, who’d died in the war. To do this, Shannon, Bailey, and Pa all had to prove up on their homesteads. When they did, they’d own a stretch of prime grazing land as well as rich water sources.
Tucker wasn’t supposed to get his hands on any of it. But a husband took possession of his wife’s claim. Pa had already lost Kylie’s claim when she’d gone and married Aaron.
But Aaron didn’t want it. He was going back east. He’d released his ownership, and Gage Coulter had bought the land.
Now Tucker would own Shannon’s share. Tucker said he’d stay. But only an idiot would think Tucker was a man to be managed and bossed around the way Pa liked bossing his daughters. And now Tucker had to meet her pa at a severe disadvantage. He owned no pants at the moment.
“Have some coffee, Pa,” Shannon said. “I just poured myself a cup, but I don’t have time to drink it. I’ve got sewing to do.” Sighing, she went to the chair, picked up her sewing, and decided she’d speak to no man again until her husband had pants on. She put in long basting stitches, just enough to hold the pants together. She could fix them up right later. For now, she needed to get Tucker properly dressed.
Good thing her pa could rant and rave for a long time. Shannon knew that well enough. Tucker might be fully clothed before Pa said everything on his mind.
“I didn’t come here to drink coffee.”
“Then maybe you’d like to meet my husband. I’ve been married for a month.” Shannon stitched briskly. “It’s high time you stopped in for a visit.”
Honestly, Pa didn’t bother her overly. She was used to him.
She was more upset to think how angry Tucker was going to be about Pa seeing him in that oversized nightshirt. Tucker had taken her lollygagging pretty well when it was only her and Sunrise and occasional visits from Kylie, Bailey, and Aaron. They’d already seen him, and honestly, Tucker didn’t care all that much what he looked like.
But Stewbold, and now Pa? Shannon rubbed a hand over her face. She had no idea how to salvage this situation. Instead she shook her head and made her stitches even longer. “Tucker, I’d like you to meet my pa, Cudgel Wilde. Pa, this is Matt Tucker, your new son-in-law. And this”—she gestured at the table with her needle—“is the new land agent, come to take over for Aaron. Hiram Stewbold, meet Cudgel Wilde. He likes to be called Mr. Stewbold, so have a mind to do that.”
Pa glared at Hiram for a second, then turned back to Shannon. “Don’t you care a thing for your brother’s memory? We are trying to build something that will honor him. He died . . .”
Tucker listened to Cudgel yell for a lot longer than he should have, mainly because Shannon gestured at him with the pants she was sewing. He got it—let the old coot rage long enough and she’d have the pants finished.
He decided it wasn’t a bad way for her to be done with her sewing at long last. Add to that, she didn’t seem all that upset by her pa’s temper. She was probably used to it.
Somehow, even lying in bed with a broken leg, wearing a dress, meeting his father-in-law for the first time, Tucker felt not one bit of embarrassment. Even with the man insulting his wife with every breath, Tucker didn’t throw off his blanket and stand up and swing a fist. It helped his self-control that he wasn’t sure his wife would like seeing her father pounded into the floor by her husband.
He thought she might not mind, but he wasn’t sure, so he didn’t rush into it.
Cudgel turned on Tucker. In some ways Cudgel resembled Hiram. They were both little men, skinny and stooped over. Both rodents in their own ways. But where Hiram resembled a slinky pack rat, Cudgel put Tucker in mind of a weasel. The kind of varmint that’d sneak into a chicken coop and kill every hen there just for the taste of blood.
“Cudgel and I have met.” They’d crossed paths out on a mountain trail. Cudgel had been unnecessarily belligerent when he’d informed Tucker he was trespassing. No one shot his mouth off like that to a stranger in the West. There were too many dangerous men.
Tucker considered himself to be one of them. Only he wasn’t on the prod. He wasn’t looking for notches in his gun. He was dangerous when called for, but Tucker didn’t think it was called for very often. But there were plenty of men in the West like that, and Cudgel had proved himself to be a fool, to Tucker’s way of thinking.
“I remember you right enough. You think you own this whole mountain. Just because you were out here first, you think you can ride anywhere. Well, those days are over.”
Tucker looked at Shannon, who caught the glance, rolled her eyes at her pa as if she’d heard his rude talk so often she paid it no mind. For some reason that upset Tucker more than anything else. Shouldn’t a pretty woman like Shannon have a right to expect kindness from her father? Tucker thought of his own pa. Not much kindness there, but Pa h
adn’t been an insulting fool.
“Are you going to wish us a happy marriage, Pa?” Tucker emphasized the word pa and thought Cudgel might start foaming at the mouth. So now he was more of a rabid weasel.
Shannon smirked and started sewing faster. If nothing else, he was going to get a pair of pants out of this mess.
Again, Cudgel jabbed a finger at Tucker. “We’re aimin’ to build something here. My son died fighting for his country. Even my daughter had the courage to fight in the war—while you spent it hidin’ up in the mountains.”
“Pa!” Shannon’s shout cut Cudgel off just as Tucker got his hands on the blankets to toss them aside and use his crutch to crack Cudgel’s skull open.
“What?” He turned on her.
Tucker waited to attack until his wife’s pa was facing him.
“You didn’t take time to hitch up your horse. It’s running off.”
Cudgel spun around. Through the door that’d been left standing open, Tucker could see a blue roan mustang trotting away. With a growl of rage, Cudgel charged out of the house.
“Put these on.” Shannon threw the pair of pants at Tucker.
“They’d better hold together.” Having his pants fall off in the middle of pounding on his father-in-law would just be about the limit.
“They will. Let me hold up the blanket so you can change.” She threw an annoyed look at the unwelcome and intrusive Mr. Stewbold and created a dressing screen.
Tucker, standing on one foot, tossed his stupid nightshirt off, sat down and pulled his pants on.
“Hiram, get out of here.” Tucker stood back up.
Shannon dropped the blanket, grabbed Tucker’s shirt, and handed it over.
As he jerked it over his head, he stared at the last remaining irritant in the house. “You’re in the middle of a family quarrel and you are not welcome.”
Hiram fidgeted with his glasses and mustache, clearly not wanting to leave. “That’s Mr. Stewbold to you, and I did have some questions.”
“You’ve seen that we’ve built a cabin of a proper size. We’re living here. No further inspection is required. Any other questions you have, I’ll answer when I get to town to change the paper work. We don’t need you to bring it out here.”
Unable to hold up under Tucker’s cold glare, Stewbold sniffed. “I won’t forget such rudeness, Mr. Tucker.”
Tucker remembered that feeling of distrust from when Stewbold had first come in. Despite the man’s weak appearance, Tucker wondered what kind of trouble he could cause. The land agent scurried out of the house, mounted up, and rode away just as Cudgel came back, leading his roan.
Following Stewbold to the door on his crutches, Tucker asked, “How much do you like your pa, Shannon?”
“I don’t like him that much.” Shannon patted him on the back. “But I think you’ll feel bad later if you beat up an old man.”
Tucker stared down at his clothes and frowned. “I’ve never worn cotton clothes in my life. It’s been buckskin from my earliest memory, and this outfit feels strange and flimsy. I reckon I’ll feel bad if somehow I tear my brand-new clothes the same day I finally got dressed. Especially if you sew my next outfit as slow as you sewed this one.”
“Whatever reason you choose for not giving him a whipping, this is how Pa is, always on about something, always insulting. I reckon you could try to teach him some manners, but I doubt you can change him. I’ve learned to avoid him as much as I can, ignore him when I can’t avoid him, and endure what can’t be ignored.”
“What did he mean about you fighting in the war?”
Shannon looked at him, her eyes level, as if she’d rather do anything but answer his question. “I spent two years dressed like a man, fighting for the Union Army.”
Tucker arched a brow at her. “You really did that?”
“Yep.”
“Your pa have a part in that decision, too?”
“Oh yes.” Shannon sighed quietly and stared at the floor.
“That where you learned medicine?”
Shannon nodded as she looked up to face her pa.
Tucker caught her arm. “Is that where the nightmares come from?”
Since that first nightmare in the cavern, Shannon had awakened them both with her dreams, always screaming, always talking about a saw. Once she was awake, though, she would say no more.
“I reckon.”
Cudgel came storming back into the cabin, which stopped Tucker’s questions.
Tucker would probably feel bad later, but he almost hoped the old fool started calling him a coward again. But if he punched him, or cracked him over the head with his crutch, it wouldn’t be for anyone but his Shannon.
16
Pa, who told you I got married?” Shannon tried to stop whatever trouble was coming. “Is that why you came over here, just to kick up a fuss about that? Because if you did, then just quit before you start. I’m married, and the land is Tucker’s now. All your yelling won’t change a thing.”
Shannon was mighty used to Pa. Usually she didn’t bother standing up to him, seeing it as a waste of her time. But she wasn’t overly afraid of him, either. He was all noise. She thought of the nasty things he’d said to Tucker, a brave man, stronger and more decent than Pa would ever be.
Her temper—which she didn’t really know she had—flared.
“My husband will do as he sees fit with his land.” She jabbed a finger in her pa’s chest, her voice rising with each word. “And if you say one more word about him not fighting in that ugly war, or if you dare to call my husband a coward, I will move off this land today.”
She leaned closer until she was eyeball to eyeball with him. “I will go straight to town.” Now she was just plain shouting. “I will abandon my claim and make sure Gage Coulter is there to buy it on the spot. Do I make myself clear?”
Pa took a step back.
Shannon felt a little dizzy. She’d never made her pa move backward before, not once in her life. She felt strong hands on her waist and knew Tucker was holding her in place. Maybe he thought she’d feel bad later if she went so far as to hurt Pa, an old man.
Shannon went on, “Now, did you have anything to say to me today beyond airing your nasty opinion of my perfectly reasonable decision as an adult woman to marry?”
Pa opened and closed his mouth but not a sound came out. His brow lowered. She’d startled him, though now his anger returned. His eyes shifted from her to where Tucker stood.
“This is Wilde land, Tucker. You’re in the family now. You’re one of us.”
“I reckon Shannon and me are family. Not so sure about you, Cudgel.” Tucker slid his arm around Shannon’s waist in a way she found extremely pleasant.
Pa made a purely rude noise, spun around, and left. They were still standing there watching as he rode off.
Tucker leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t punch him, but that don’t mean I want to invite him to Sunday dinner.”
Shannon swung the door shut, turned around, laughed, and flung her arms around her husband’s neck. He almost fell over backward, and she caught him just in time. “You need to take your pants off,” she demanded.
“Yes, ma’am.” His arms tightened around her waist.
“I mean, I need to do a better job of sewing them.” Shannon was a while turning her overheated-by-embarrassment face back to a temperature that a human being could live with. “Go get back in bed. I barely basted them together, and you’ll rip them apart if you make one wrong move.”
Tucker stared at her so long and hard, Shannon didn’t know if he’d ever get on with handing over her sewing project. In fact, she had no idea what he was gaping at.
Well, maybe she had some idea.
Hooves pounded outside the door.
“Tucker, you still laid up?” Gage Coulter had come to call.
Tucker rolled his eyes. “You ain’t gettin’ these pants back anytime soon,” he told Shannon. “Maybe you oughta start on a second pair.”
&n
bsp; Shannon picked up Tucker’s crutches. She’d managed to knock them away from him when she’d hugged him. She handed them over, then went to the table and took Stewbold’s coffee cup to wash. They didn’t have that many cups. If Coulter was staying, she needed to clean the dishes.
Coulter hammered on the door.
Tucker hobbled over to let him in. “What is it?”
“Good, you finally got rid of that stupid-looking nightgown and put on some pants.” Coulter came in without being invited. “Now all you need is to get your woman in a dress and this’ll be a normal family.”
Shannon kept her back to the men while she washed up a cup for Gage and poured him fresh coffee. She considered dumping it over his head, but that’d be wasteful. Besides, she’d have to mop the floor then.
“Have you decided when you’re gonna head up the mountain yet?” Coulter asked. “My cattle need water, and you know you’re leavin’ sooner or later. While you’re lying around healing, with a handful of sheep livin’ off a whole river, the grass is wearing out on one of the last patches of land on this side of my ranch—the only side that’s got a good water source.”
“Have a seat, Coulter,” Tucker said. He sounded tired.
Her husband had promised to stay with her, unlike Sunrise’s husband and so many other mountain men, but she wondered if he would. Coulter made it sound like Tucker heading for the mountains was inevitable. And there was no denying he was a restless man. Could it be he meant he’d stay with her so long as she followed him wherever he went?
Gage sat down, dragged his Stetson off his head, and tossed it on the table beside him. Shannon plunked the cup down in front of him hard enough to earn herself a look. “This is not your ranch. This land’s mine.”
“I was here when no one else wanted it, Mrs. Tucker.” Somehow Gage made her name sound like an insult. “Any roads or trails you ride on out here, I built. I came here before anyone knew if the Shoshone were going to be friendly or lift my scalp.”
“Don’t talk to me like you’re an old-timer,” Tucker broke in. “I was here when you were still sittin’ on your daddy’s knee back in Texas.”
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