Now and Forever

by Mary Connealy

  “I saw him after Tucker caught up to him. And he’d dropped Shannon. Tucker swears to that, and I can swear I got there when Tucker had just knocked Stewbold down after Shannon stabbed him and he dropped her.”

  Langley nodded. “I need you to both come over to the jail and tell me just what happened. But, Tucker, you’re not going anywhere if you expect me to keep Stewbold locked up. All Gage really knows is someone whacked him over the head. You’re the one who saw him with Shannon. You’re the one who saw Shannon stab him. You’re the one who punched him in the face. If you leave town right now, Stewbold is a free man.”

  Tucker didn’t dare let him go free. He could vanish without a trace. He might leave the area and take his taste for killing to some other unsuspecting town. “Is Gage’s part of the story enough, or do we need to get Shannon?”

  Tucker would like to send someone to drag his wife back to town. If he couldn’t go after her, someone mighty big and tough would do almost as well. Like Gage Coulter.

  “I’ll have to talk to her. I tried to stop her, but she must’ve been in too big a hurry. For now I need at least two of you. Gage, it’ll have to be you.”

  Which meant Gage couldn’t go anywhere. “Why two of us?”

  “I need both of you. Honest, Tucker, if it’s your word against Stewbold, well, he’s been stabbed twice.”

  “Once by Shannon when he was kidnapping her with plans to kill her.”

  “So you say.”

  Tucker’s temper flashed. “And once by Ma when he hit her over the head and hauled her into the woods to lure me away from the homestead so he could grab Shannon.”

  “I know Sunrise well and trust her,” Langley said, “but the word of an Indian woman isn’t worth much to some folks.”

  Tucker’s eyes narrowed.

  Langley raised his hands as if he were surrendering. “I’m only saying the truth, Tucker, ain’t no sense pretending different. Mr. Stewbold is beat up pretty bad, while you don’t have a scratch on you. If it’s your word against his, he doesn’t look like the outlaw in this story.”

  Tucker took a menacing step toward Marshal Langley.

  Gage grabbed his arm. “Let’s go tell our story while Hiram looks us in the eye and lies about it.”

  It probably wasn’t the best time to take out his upset on a man wearing a badge. “What about Shannon? I’ve got to talk to her.”

  “Listen, Tucker, I believe you,” Langley went on. “I know you’re honest, and I’d trust you and Gage with my life. Stewbold appears to be an upstanding citizen, but he’s new to these parts, while you two have lived around here for years. But I’m asking questions that need answering. Questions a judge will ask. You can talk to your wife later. The way to take care of her right now is to make sure Hiram stays locked up tight.”

  “We need to go fetch Aaron,” Tucker said. “He can ride out to get Shannon, bring her back here.” Tucker strode to the front of the diner and hollered, “Nev, get out here!”

  There was no answer.

  Tucker looked at Langley and Gage. “They were just here.” He stepped inside and walked into the kitchen, only to find it empty. The lovebirds had flown the coop.

  Shaking his head, Tucker went back to the marshal. “All right. Let’s go talk to that lying varmint you’ve got locked up.”

  32

  What happened?” Bailey came running out of her barn.

  Shannon went to her big sister rather than go home. Now she should be telling her sister everything, but all she could do was cry.

  Bailey helped Shannon down off her horse. “Are you hurt?”

  Trust Bailey to think that the only reason a person should cry was because they’d been physically hurt. And even then Bailey probably wouldn’t shed a tear over it. But she might forgive a weakling like her little sister for crying a bit.

  Shannon shook her head.

  “Let’s put your horse up. Where’s Tucker?”

  That was the wrong question to ask. Shannon had hoped she was cried out, but apparently her body had plenty of tears to spare. Bailey slung an arm around her shoulders, grabbed the horse’s reins, and led them toward the corral.

  By the time the horse was seen to, Shannon had calmed down enough to walk unaided to Bailey’s log cabin.

  They went inside silently. It was possible Bailey was afraid to say anything, dreading another bout of tears. She shoved the coffeepot and a stewpot forward on the stove. It looked like Bailey planned on Shannon staying awhile, and that wasn’t a bad idea. If Shannon went home, there was a chance Tucker would show up, and Shannon didn’t think she was up to talking with him yet. Assuming he even came.

  That thought almost set off another spell of bawling.

  Maybe if she had a little more time, she could calmly wave goodbye to him.

  Bailey was busy getting plates and cups, remaining silent still, giving her little sister all the time she needed. She turned to the table with her tin dishes. Two plates in a stack and two cups on top, forks and knives.

  Where to begin this tale? “A man kidnapped me last night.”

  “What?” Bailey dropped the dishes on the table. They went flying. Shannon scrambled to keep them from falling on the floor.

  “Tell me what happened.” Bailey shoved the tinware aside and sat down at the table around the corner from Shannon.

  Bailey knew about the Barnburner, but Shannon hadn’t seen her since they’d started keeping watch over the corral. Once Gage started sleeping at Shannon’s place, Bailey stayed away. Shannon told her story with a shaky voice.

  Bailey had heard about the way the man had mutilated the mule. They knew he was capable of awful deeds. “He managed to sneak up on Sunrise?”

  “Yes, and Coulter.”

  “And he kidnapped you, intending to kill you?”

  “He told Sunrise something about drawing Tucker away from our homestead so he could grab me. Yes, he was intent on murder.”

  Bailey shuddered, her mouth forming a grim line. “But they have him locked up in jail now, right?”

  Shannon nodded.

  There was a long pause as Bailey studied Shannon. She knew her eyes had to be swollen from tears. They burned and were probably red.

  “And that was so upsetting, you’re still crying all these hours later?” Bailey sounded more than a little doubtful.

  Shannon didn’t blame her. “No, I’m crying because Tucker just told me he wants us to move to his cabin in the mountains. Then he’s going back to trapping, and that will leave me alone up there for days and weeks and maybe months at a time. And b-besides . . .” Shannon felt the tears start again. “He offered my sheep to Nev Bassett.”

  “He said he’d stay with you.” Bailey’s hands tightened on her coffee cup until her knuckles turned white. “He promised Sunrise.”

  “He doesn’t seem to think being gone a few weeks at a time counts as not staying with me. So I told him to go on back to his mountain cabin and leave me h-here.” Shannon broke down again.

  “And you’re crying because . . . ?” Bailey waited while Shannon sobbed.

  Finally she pulled herself together enough to say, “I’m crying because I’m in love with him and he’s leaving me.”

  “You should’ve known better than to do that!”

  Shannon shoved her cup aside, laid her head down on the table, and howled.

  Thundering hooves sounded outside the cabin. Shannon jerked her head up. Bailey was on her feet and peering out the window within seconds.

  “It’s Tucker and that no-good Gage Coulter.”

  “I don’t want to see Tucker.”

  “And I sure don’t want to see Coulter.” Bailey grabbed her rifle from the pegs over the door, pushed open the narrow window shutters, and fired.

  “Be careful!” Shannon rushed to Bailey’s side in time to see the grulla wheel around.

  Coulter’s brown thoroughbred reared so high it almost unseated him.

  “I am being careful. I hit what I aim at.” Bailey li
fted the gun again, but she didn’t pull the trigger.

  “You ride on out of here, Tucker.” Bailey was using her deeper voice. Not much different from normal, for she already had a fairly deep voice for a woman. Even so, she could put a more manly tone to it when she wanted to. “And take your friend with you.”

  “I see Shannon’s horse here,” Tucker shouted. “Put down that gun, Bailey. I need to see my wife.”

  “She doesn’t want to see you.”

  Shannon did, though. She wanted to go beg him not to leave her. She wanted to cry and plead and tell him how much she loved him and promise him anything to get him to stay. The thoughts that rioted through her head were so pathetic she decided it was best to let Bailey do the talking.

  “You can’t build your cabin across the mouth of this canyon.” Coulter tore the Stetson off his head and whacked himself on the leg so hard his stallion reared again.

  “Go home, Coulter.” Bailey changed the angle of her rifle so the next time she fired, if she fired, the bullet would hit the ground inches from Coulter’s horse rather than Tucker’s.

  “Shannon, come on out, honey.”

  “You didn’t want to talk to me very bad. I’ve been at Bailey’s for an hour. What’d you do, stay and have another meal before you decided to ride after me?” That hurt almost as much as his abandoning her. Knowing he’d felt no urgency about following her.

  “No, the marshal stopped us. He was going to let Stewbold go.”

  “What?” Shannon swung the door open and stood in the opening. She almost went charging out. Keeping that evil man in jail was more important than any broken heart. But she couldn’t make herself go to Tucker when it might be the last time.

  “We had to go in and talk to Marshal Langley, give our side of the story. He wants to talk to you, too.” Tucker swung down off his grulla and slapped the horse on the rump. The mustang seemed eager to trot away, out of rifle range.

  “Hang on to that horse, Tucker,” Bailey yelled. “You’re not staying.”

  “I’m surprised you bothered to even come. How’d you find me anyway?” Shannon hollered.

  Tucker was probably a hundred feet from the cabin, standing beside Coulter, who was still on horseback. Tucker’s head jerked back in surprise, and he stared at her. Coulter stopped, turned around to give Shannon a startled look. Even Bailey stopped aiming her rifle to arch a brow at her sister.

  Tucker answered, “I tracked you.”

  “He tracked you.” Bailey and Gage spoke at the same instant as Tucker.

  Shannon knew that. She figured maybe all the crying had muddled her thinking. “Just go on back to your cabin in the mountains, Tucker. That’s where you live. You said so yourself. So you go live up there and I’ll live down here. Stop by from time to time if you’ve a mind to.” Shannon got that out in a very even voice. She was proud of herself. Because she wanted to start crying again.

  “Wilde, this is my fall range. You can’t put your cabin across the neck of this canyon—I own it. I’ve bought it all right and legal. You own one hundred and sixty acres. But your homestead is blocking off five thousand acres of my land.”

  “Doesn’t matter what you own, Coulter. I’m not giving you permission to cross on my land. If you can find another way in, you’re welcome to it. In the meantime I’m running my own cattle on it.”

  “Oh, no you’re not. If you think—”

  “Gage!” Tucker snapped, “I’m trying to talk to my wife. Stop interrupting me to talk about your stupid ranch.”

  “My stupid ranch?” Gage whacked his leg again with his poor, abused hat. A piece of the brim tore loose. “Your wife’s brother just stole over five thousand acres from me and you want to talk about your wife throwin’ a conniption fit? What’s the matter with you, Tucker? Go grab her and drag her up to your cabin in the mountains. I’ll buy your homestead, and if I’m in a good mood I won’t feed her dumb sheep to the wolves.”

  “Coulter!” Tucker, Bailey, and Shannon all spat his name out at the same time.

  “What?”

  Again they spoke together. “Go home!”

  Visibly shaken, Gage looked at Tucker. His icy gaze then swung to Shannon, then to Bailey in the open window. Bailey kept her attention on her precisely aimed rifle.

  He slammed his hat on his head. The brim tore again and dropped over his eyes. Furious, he yanked the hat off, glared at it in disgust, and hurled it to the dirt.

  “I’ll be back, Wilde.” Gage wheeled his stallion and galloped off.

  33

  Tucker stood there alone, staring at the house. He wasn’t fuming like Gage. Instead, there was confusion on his face, as if he had no idea what had set Shannon off.

  She had a strong urge to take Bailey’s gun and fill his backside with buckshot, just to impress upon him how upset she was.

  Of course, she didn’t want him to be hurt.

  Suddenly Tucker started forward.

  Bailey fired into the ground. Tucker didn’t even slow down.

  But Bailey did. Speaking quietly to Shannon, she said, “You know I can’t shoot him.” She had a forlorn tone to her voice.

  “I know,” Shannon said.

  Tucker reached the cabin and came right on inside. “Bailey, you’d best step outside. Unless my stubborn wife is ready to go home with me.” Tucker waited.

  Shannon didn’t budge.

  Bailey crossed her arms, and her golden eyes flashed fire. The worst of the stubborn Wilde women.

  “Fine. Stay here then.” Tucker walked straight up to Shannon, put his arms around her, and dragged her against him. He kissed her until it shook loose the tears she’d been holding inside. Sobbing behind the kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Shannon.” Distantly she heard Bailey say her name, then groan in disgust. The door slammed—Bailey leaving.

  Shannon held on for as long as she could, even when her common sense nudged her to let him go. Finally she had to step back. Scrubbing at her leaky eyes, she turned and found the table—after some fumbling—and sat down. Better not to let him see how he made her knees go weak. And maybe if she was seated, it would keep her from launching herself into his arms and agreeing to anything to stay with him.

  She tried to think, to pray, rather than grieve for the husband she wanted with her. She wasn’t even sure if it was fair to start this way, but she knew suddenly, powerfully, that she had to be honest with him. “Tucker, I love you.”

  He moved to the table and pulled a chair close, too close for her to think clearly, and sat down. “Last night when I found Ma hurt, and then had to go after Stewbold, I felt like I was being torn in half to leave her. But I had to get to you.”

  He took both her hands in his. “I told her I loved her, and I realized I’d never said that to her before. Never in my whole life, and I’ve loved her almost from the first day she took me in. And I’d never said it to you either, Shannon, and I may have loved you from the minute my eyes connected with yours when I saw you on that roof. And for sure by the time we hit the water after falling over that cliff. I’m not waiting any longer. I love you, Shannon.”

  It was a wonderful thing to hear, and yet it ripped up her heart, and the pain flowed fresh and bright and deep.

  Swallowing hard, she said, “I am not going to live up in that mountain cabin with you, Tucker.”

  “But that’s where we live, honey. You knew I was only down here until my leg healed up.”

  “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “I’m a mountain man. I make my living trapping and hunting in the high-up hills. That’s the life I know. Who did you think you were marrying?”

  Shannon knew then that she wasn’t being fair. She leaned forward and caressed Tucker’s face. He was right. It wasn’t fair to marry a man, then ask him to be someone other than who he was.

  Which came back to them both making a terrible mistake. “I’m not going to spend my life waiting for my man to stop by.”

  “I never said I’d—
”

  “It’s frightening. What if I have a baby? Am I to give birth all alone? What if something went wrong, and there I’d be with no one to help?”

  “Shannon, I—”

  “You told Sunrise you wouldn’t leave me. You said it right in front of the parson.”

  “Yes, and I—”

  “But how can you be what you are, a hunter and a trapper, and not leave me? And it’s not fair for me to ask you to change. So go on up to your cabin and live your life.” Shannon surged out of her chair. “Just remember you’ve got a wife down here who loves you.”

  She turned away, more certain with every word that to go with him was impossible, but to ask him to stay would be wrong of her. She went to Bailey’s door ready to send her husband on his way. It would be the best thing for them both.

  “But I love you, Shannon. I don’t want to—”

  “A wife who’ll welcome you when you can stop by. There’s nothing else we can . . . mmph.”

  Her last words were cut off when Tucker’s hand covered her mouth. Standing behind her, he leaned forward until she could see him and feel him, warm and strong, all along her back.

  “Can I talk for a minute now?”

  “I doe heee hye.” That was as close as Shannon could come to saying I don’t see why. What could he add?

  “First, I’m not leaving you down here.”

  Shannon’s hopes rose. Did that mean he was staying?

  “You’re coming with me.”

  Those hopes sank just as quickly and she felt worse than before, surprised to find out that a woman who’d been crying most of the day could feel any worse.

  Held firmly, she couldn’t talk, but she shook her head, even if only a tiny shake because his grip was solid. Still, he got the message.

  “You’re my wife, and a wife goes with her husband. It’s in the Bible. So I’m going to save you from this sinful notion you have about staying behind.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, narrowed her eyes, and did her best to burn him to a cinder with a glare.

  The polecat smiled and kept her mouth covered. Just as well. It was a certainty that he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. With his usual graceful movements, he spun her around to face him, only uncovering her mouth for a second. She inhaled, planning to need a lot of breath to tell him all she wanted to say. Except her mouth was securely covered by his hand once again before she could speak, and he had his spare arm anchored around her waist.