Darlin' Druid

by Lyn Horner

  “You see thing?” He blinked in confusion. “What things?”

  “Oh, wee things,” Tye said in an amused tone, “like the Chicago Fire. Weeks before the first spark ignited.”

  David shot him a startled glance and gave a bark of laughter. “That’s impossible.”

  “Not for our Jessie. But I’ll let her explain.”

  “Well?” David demanded impatiently.

  “I’ve the sight,” she replied, surprisingly calm now. “I see visions, in water usually, of things that have not yet come to pass. ’Tis a gift passed down from my mother, and her mother before her, and through all the long generations back.”

  His jaw locked and he glanced back and forth between her and Tye suspiciously. “Is this some kind of joke the two of you play on prospective suitors? If it is, it’s not funny.”

  She managed a crooked smile. “Nay, ’tis God’s truth, I swear. I am what some call a seer, others a white witch. Tye and our sister Rose also have the gift, although it came to each of us in a different form. A learned friend of our family believed us to be descendants from an ancient group of folk called Druids.” She shrugged. “Whether she was right, I don’t know, but ’tis as good an explanation as any, I suppose.”

  David stared at her for a long moment then shook his head slowly. “Good Lord!” he muttered, turning pale beneath his tan.

  Jessie decided not to mention that he was one of her visions. It wouldn’t do to have her future husband faint dead away, she thought with a tiny grin.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Clutching her nosegay of red roses, Jessie clung to Tye’s arm as they took their places at the back of St. Mary’s small, crowded sanctuary. The wedding guests turned to look her way, and she nervously noted several blue uniforms among them – David’s fellow officers from CampDouglas. She recognized many of the other guests as Ivar’s friends and family, having met them at the café, but she surely hadn’t expected to see them here today. That was Ivar’s doing, of course; he did not want her to feel alone and friendless at her own wedding.

  Her former employer had been the soul of kindness to her, despite how she’d run off and left him in the lurch. When David had escorted her to the café after arriving from Alta, to let Ivar know she was safe, he’d greeted her with a cry of relief and a jubilant hug, causing her to break into tears. Appalled by her bruised cheek, he had insisted on taking her into his own home until the wedding, agreeing with David that she could not stay alone in a hotel, not with Blake Stanton still on the loose.

  Jessie glanced up at Tye and he smiled encouragement, looking handsome in his borrowed finery. The gray frock coat, trousers and vest, as well as the white linen shirt he wore, belonged to Ivar Andersen’s son. The coat strained across Tye’s shoulders, but with only three days to find him appropriate clothes, it was the best that could be done.

  Although she’d refused to consider it at first, Jessie wore one of the gowns she had ordered with what she now knew was Blake’s money. Tye had denied sending her the pouch of coins, saying his wages from the mine didn’t stretch nearly that far. Blake had lied to her about that, just as he had lied about so much else, obviously wanting her dressed to suit his refined tastes when he took her east, so certain had he been that she would fall for his evil scheme.

  Upon learning the truth about the money, she’d wanted to discard the blue taffeta gown and not pick up the other two, but David had declared otherwise. After paying the balance to the dressmaker, he’d replaced what Jessie had spent out of Blake’s money and had handed the heavy little pouch to the priest when they made their rushed wedding arrangements. A donation from a sinner, he’d called it, and Jessie could hardly argue.

  She was glad now that he’d insisted she keep the gowns, especially this one. Made of ivory silk, with delicate French lace trimming the v-neck and bell-shaped sleeves, it featured a tiered, bustled skirt, also trimmed with lace. How ironic that Blake had picked the style and fabric, and wouldn’t he turn livid if he knew he had actually chosen her wedding gown, she thought with wicked satisfaction.

  The music began, and her hold on Tye’s arm became a death grip.

  “Easy now,” he whispered. “Just breathe and walk.” Patting her hand, he started her slowly up the aisle.

  Thoughts of Ivar and Blake and everything else fled Jessie’s head when she saw David standing near the altar, waiting for her. He looked magnificent in his dress uniform with its gold cording and epaulets, his dark hair shining, his bronzed features so handsome and proud. Hardly believing he was soon to be her husband, she met his eyes, heart knocking against her ribs.

  David’s own heartbeat quickened as he watched his bride approach with measured step. She was enough to take his breath away in her silk and lace gown, with a tiny, matching hat perched atop her fiery curls. The fading bruise on her left cheek barely showed thanks to a friend of Ivar Andersen’s – a Mormon woman skilled in the use of make-up from working at the Salt Lake Theater. Showing through the powder, Jessie’s natural rose blush confirmed the excitement shining in her bluebonnet eyes.

  Eyes that could look into the future, David reminded himself. He still wasn’t sure he believed her outrageous claim, even though she’d seemed perfectly serious about it – except for that mischievous grin she couldn’t quite hide when he’d stared at her in shock. Hell, who wouldn’t be shocked to learn his soon-to-be-wife possessed such a gift, as she called it? If she truly did possess it, that is.

  Whatever she was, soothsayer or fanciful liar, he wanted her.

  He smiled, and her pink, temptingly ripe lips turned up in response. All he could think about was later, when he would take her to his quarters, strip away her lovely gown and make her his at last.

  Whoa there, hombre. You’ve got to get through the ceremony first. And all the to-do afterward.

  When Jessie laid her hand in his a few seconds later, he felt her tremble, and a feeling of protectiveness washed over him. She was nervous, he realized, and probably a little afraid – maybe more than a little – of what lay ahead of her tonight. He’d do well to remember that later.

  The touch of David’s warm hand set Jessie’s insides aflutter, testing her already shaky composure. His nearness was a constant distraction during the ceremony, bringing thoughts of the coming night and flashes of erotic dreams she was ashamed to recall now, at such a solemn time. All of which made it almost impossible for her to concentrate on what the priest was saying. More than once David had to prompt her to kneel or to rise. When it came time for them to exchange their vows, he repeated his clearly, without hesitation, while her wobbly voice sounded paper-thin to her own ears.

  At long last, David slipped the gold band on her finger – the same one he’d worn on a chain around his neck, which she now knew had belonged to his mother – and the final blessing bestowed. She turned to her new husband, he slipped his arms around her, and she lifted her face for his kiss. Flames of desire leapt in his green eyes, yet his mouth was surprisingly gentle on her quivering lips. His breath warmed her cheek for a brief moment, then he drew away.

  Placing her hand securely in the crook of his elbow, he led her back up the aisle past her smiling, relieved looking brother, past a beaming Ivar Andersen and his relations, past army officers and their wives. After running that gauntlet, Jessie was grateful to step outside into the August heat. Unfortunately, the late morning sun momentarily blinded her, and as David led her down a short flight of steps, she put her foot wrong. Losing her balance, she gave a startled cry.

  A pair of strong arms saved her, sweeping her into the air. She gasped and clutched David’s neck as he nestled her against him. “Can’t have you breaking your pretty neck on our wedding day, darlin’,” he said with a teasing grin.

  “I . . . I’m sorry for being so clumsy. ’Twas the sun in my eyes. Thank you for catching me.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Taylor.”

  Hearing him call her that made her heart sing as he strode to the waiting carriage, ea
sily bearing her weight. While the crowd filed out behind them, he deposited her on the buggy seat and donned the yellow-plumed dress helmet he’d left there. He adjusted the chin strap while she straightened her skirts, then climbed in beside her for the drive to Andersen’s Café – closed for the day to the public – where they were to be feted thanks to Ivar’s generosity.

  As David collected the reins, the wedding guests gathered to wave them off, promising to see them in a few minutes.

  “Make sure you show up, Taylor,” one of David’s brother officers called out. “I mean to steal a kiss from your bride before you go running off with her.”

  “Long as that’s all you steal, Roberts, I reckon I can stand the wait,” David drawled. He winked at Jessie. “For a little while.”

  A hot blush scorched her cheeks, and laughter rippled through the crowd. She glared at David, adding to the enjoyment of their observers, the male ones that is. Some of the women didn’t look quite so amused, she noted just before her lustful husband flicked the reins, sending the horse into a sedate trot.

  “Did ye have to say that?” she burst out as soon as they were well away. “And in front of all those women!”

  He laughed, unperturbed. “Sorry if I embarrassed you, Jessie. Guess they all know what I’ve got on my mind, hmm?”

  “Oh! You’re . . . you’re impossible!” she sputtered indignantly, to which he merely chuckled again.

  The trip was short, but she was feeling the heat by the time they reached Andersen’s. Fortunately, she had managed to cool her temper, telling herself she would not get into a fight with David. That was no way to begin their marriage.

  According to plan, Billy Owens had slipped away from the church early in order to dash back to the café and set out the mountain of food he’d prepared. Now the big cook greeted them jovially and ushered them inside. The place seemed eerily silent to Jessie without any customers, but within minutes the dining room was packed with wedding guests, all eager to offer their best wishes.

  Ivar was first in line. Giving Jessie a fatherly hug, he said, “He is good man, your husband. He will take care of you and make you happy, I think.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Jessie said with a smile. Privately, she wasn’t so sure, but she was determined to remain hopeful.

  Tye took Ivar’s place. Kissing Jessie’s cheek, he whispered, “Give it time, Sis. I still have a feeling ’twill work out well.”

  Praying his feeling was correct, she nodded, eyes misting over. He patted her arm, then moved on to offer David his hand. Jessie missed their brief exchange as she received good wishes from one of Ivar’s friends. The man’s wife, a stout matron with two double chins, squeezed Jessie’s hand.

  “Be brave, my dear,” she whispered, bending close. “I’m sure the captain will treat you gently.”

  Jessie caught her breath, wondering if her uncertainty about this marriage was so plain to see. Then she realized the woman was referring to the night ahead. Forcing a wooden smile, she replied, “Oh, uh, I’m sure you’re right.”

  As the woman joined her husband in congratulating David, Jessie fought off a brief spurt of fear. She knew in general what her wifely duties entailed – her mother had told her how babies were made years ago -- and she must trust David to teach her the rest. If those feverish dreams she’d had of the two of them together were not merely a figment of her imagination, she thought she had little to fear and much to anticipate.

  Hoping her face wasn’t as inflamed as her thoughts, she smiled graciously as David introduced Colonel Morrow, his commanding officer. The bearded, dignified man wished her well and welcomed her into the CampDouglas family, but his comments to David were less cordial.

  “As you know, Captain, I’ll be leading out a detachment tomorrow to deal with the Indian trouble over in SanpeteValley. By the time I return, I trust you will have successfully concluded your mission, despite this pleasant if unexpected delay.”

  Jessie experienced a stab of guilt, mingled with resentment at the man’s unsubtle hint of disapproval. Hearing David’s terse “Yes sir,” she struggled to hide her reaction as she greeted the colonel’s wife. The woman, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, a bit younger than her husband, introduced herself as Belle Morrow. She offered her cordial felicitations, then promptly informed Jessie that she would be formally welcomed to CampDouglas by the officers’ wives the day after tomorrow, at a tea given by Mrs. Morrow herself at the commander’s residence.

  Taken aback by this news, Jessie smiled uncertainly and murmured her appreciation. She was still dealing with the effects of the woman’s invitation – more like an order – and Colonel Morrow’s remarks to David when she found herself facing the officer who had earlier vowed to steal a kiss from her. He bowed over her hand and introduced himself as Captain Luke Roberts; then, with a playful smile, he kissed her. It was only a chaste touching of lips, but as he drew back, he took on a foolish, love-struck expression.

  “Lovely lady, it is my great misfortune not to have met you first, before this uncouth Texan had a chance to capture your affections,” he said woefully, shooting David a mock-angry glare.

  Jessie couldn’t help laughing. “Begorra, sir, ye must have Irish blood in your veins, for you’re a born flatterer.” He was also handsome, with chestnut hair and a winning smile, and she did feel flattered by his admiring comment. But she wasn’t the least bit attracted to him. He wasn’t David.

  “No ma’am, I’m being perfectly honest,” he replied, still holding her hand. “Your husband is a lucky man.”

  Jessie sent David a sidelong glance and found him watching her. His gaze probed into her for a moment; then he crossed his arms and aimed a menacing look at Captain Roberts.

  “You know, down in Texas we’ve got no use for trespassers. Just as soon plug ’em as look at ’em.” Although he delivered the warning in an amused drawl, Jessie got the feeling he was only half joking. And she found it embarrassing.

  Captain Roberts, God bless him, laughed good-naturedly. “No trespass intended,” he said. Giving her fingers a final squeeze, he released them and stepped over to shake hands with David.

  Jessie would like to have told her arrogant spouse that she was not a piece of property he had just purchased, but with well-wishers streaming past them, she resisted the urge. By the time they finished greeting their guests and sat down to eat, her irritation had waned. Having little appetite, she picked at her food and pretended interest in the conversation flowing around her. However, her mind was occupied elsewhere, torn between anticipation of being alone with David and dread of having to bid her brother farewell.

  Once the guests had stuffed themselves on Billy’s delicious cooking, Jessie found herself surrounded by a group of women, all eager to offer her marital advice. Except for two, that is, a mother and daughter who had nothing to say and whose cold expressions made Jessie wonder briefly at the cause. Dismissing it as unimportant, she glanced across the room at David. He was engaged in conversation with his fellow officers and several Mormon men. Eyeing her tall, ruggedly handsome husband, she experienced a tide of fierce joy, knowing that he was truly hers, and she better understood his possessive comment to Captain Roberts.

  One of the women asked a question, drawing her attention. Within moments, however, her gaze gravitated back to David. This time, she met his hungry stare. Her heart leapt, a wave of heat washed through her and she couldn’t seem to get enough air. Detecting her reaction, he gave a knowing smile and turned to say something to his companions, excusing himself, evidently. Then he started toward her.

  Jessie looked away, nervously licking her lips. He was coming to collect her; it was time to leave, time to tell everyone good-bye, including Tye. How was she to get through it, she wondered, feeling a fist tighten around her heart.

  David gripped her elbow, and she darted him a panicky glance. Arching an eyebrow at her, he made their excuses to the gaggle of women. Then he steered her toward Ivar Andersen, taking their leave of people
along the way, including Billy Owens, who sniffled unashamedly when Jessie kissed his ruddy cheek.

  Ivar hugged her tight. “You and your husband will come visit me before you leave, ya?” he asked gruffly. David had told him they would be departing for Texas once his mission here was concluded.

  Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, Jessie smiled and nodded.

  “Thank you for everything, sir,” David said, shaking hands with Ivar. “Jessie and I appreciate your kindness.”

  “Ya, ya, I am glad to help, Captain. She is fine girl. You take good care of her.”

  “I will, sir,” David promised.

  Jessie returned Ivar’s husky good-bye and let David lead her to the exit, where her brother waited.

  Tye held the door open, indicating he preferred to say his farewells away from the others. Once outside, he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and studied the boardwalk. “The time has come, colleen. I’ll be leaving for Alta first thing in the morning, so I expect we’ll not be seeing each other again for a while.”

  “Can’t ye stay one more day? Please,” Jessie implored with a catch in her voice. He’d already told her no, but she had to try once more. “We could spend tomorrow together. We hardly had a chance to speak to each other today.” She didn’t look at David, not caring if he liked the idea or not. Tye was her brother, and she probably wouldn’t see him again for years, if ever.

  He shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry, Jess, but as I told ye, if I don’t get back tomorrow, I may not have a job left.”

  Bending her head, she blinked furiously, but couldn’t prevent a tear from rolling down her cheek.

  Tye stepped close and gathered her into his arms. “Don’t take on so,” he rasped, patting her back. “’Tis best we say good-bye now. You’re beginning a new life. Ye don’t need me underfoot.”

  Sobbing, she shook her head and pressed her face into his shoulder, clutching at his coat.

  “Besides, ye never know, we might meet again sooner than ye think,” he added thickly. “I may want to be seeing Texas one of these fine days. In the meantime, we’ll write to each other, aye?”