by Kit Morgan
“Then what is it about?”
Bonnie drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, it's about doing things for him that you maybe don't want to do, but you're going to do them anyway, because you care about him. It's about being alongside him day in and day out, not always because you want to, but because it's the right place to be. It's about taking care of his home and having pride in your work. Part of it’s for you, yes, but also for him. It's putting your trust in him, Libby, knowing that he has your best interests in mind and that you can count on him.”
“What about a man doing things for you? Like, falling at your feet? That's how Gwen used to tell if a boy liked her.”
Bonnie laughed and shook her head. “That is not how you tell. Besides, Gwen now
knows the difference.”
“But I'm not Gwen,” Libby told her.
“No, you're not. Maybe knowing if you're in love is a little different for everybody.”
“Then how am I going to know if I am?”
Bonnie took another deep breath. “For you, little sister, I think it's knowing that Nate cherishes you.”
“Cherishes me?”
“Yes. I know you, Libby, and I know that if Nate is protecting you, sheltering you, keeping you warm and safe … well then, he's cherishing you and taking care of you. In other words, he's making you the most important thing in his world. Sure, a lot of men do it out of duty because it's the right thing to do. But then there are men who go above and beyond and…” she suddenly stopped.
“Bonnie? Are you all right?”
Bonnie's jaw went slack a moment, her eyes wide. She then quickly collected herself and looked at Libby. “What does Nate do when he's with you? Is he affectionate?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Does he want to spend time with you?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Do you want to spend time with him?”
Libby clasped her hands in her lap. “All the time.”
“So you miss him during the day when he's out working?”
Libby nodded. She did, now that she thought on it. There hadn’t been a day since her arrival she didn’t think of him, wondered if he was warm enough, or if he was hungry.
“Oh, my… I think, I’m…”
“In love with your husband?” Bonnie finished.
“I am in love with him!” she looked at Bonnie, horrified. “This is terrible!” She got up and raced for the door.
“Libby!” Bonnie called after her. “Where are you going?”
“Home. I have to find out if he loves me, too!”
“Libby!”
Libby turned, the door already open. “What?”
“I can guarantee you that he does.”
Libby chewed her lower lip. “That may be so, but I have to hear the words from him for myself.” With that, she left.
* * *
Libby raced to her cabin, and had no sooner reached it than Nate rode up. “Libby, darlin', what's wrong? Is there a fire?” He quickly dismounted and went to her. “Are you all right?”
Libby gazed into his eyes and saw the familiar concern there; the same he had for her whenever he thought something wasn't right. The look was there every time she’d been out of sorts, and the day Jack galloped away with her. It had always been there. But she thought it meant something else. She thought it meant a task on his part. She was something to be taken care of, so that he could move on to other things, more important things, like his chores out at the barn or his work on the range. But that wasn't it at all. In truth, she had compared him to her father and hadn't realized it.
For her father, having to deal with one of Gwen’s escapade's or Bonnie's failure to obtain a husband, and of course Libby's own shortcomings, was a chore. A task he had to deal with and quickly, lest it mar his sterling reputation. The thought sickened her, and Libby realized she had completely misjudged her new husband. She wasn't a nuisance to him or some job. She was his wife, and he was trying to help her ease into the role.
Shame hit Libby hard and fast, and she turned away from him.
“Hey now, darlin,” he said softly. “Come here.” He gently brushed her cheek with a finger. She turned around to face him. “Talk to me,” he coaxed.
Libby swallowed hard. “I will, but… can we go inside?”
“Of course,” he said. He tethered Jack to the hitching post and followed her into the cabin. He took off his hat and coat, and then motioned toward the settee. Once they were seated, he put his arm around her and looked into her eyes. “What troubles you, Libby?
Tell me.”
She swallowed hard. “You're not mad at me for anything, are you? Like… last night?”
“I admit I was a little. Sometimes I just can't make sense of you, woman.”
“That's okay,” she said with a weak smile. “I can't make sense of me either.”
He blinked at her a couple of times, then laughed. “There’s my little Libby,” he chuckled. “Now, what's the problem?”
“You’re so quick to recover from being angry,” she said and looked away. “I've had so many different feelings since we got married, that I haven't been able to sort them out.”
He drew her closer, put his other arm around her, and rested his chin atop her head. “That's okay, darlin', I've been having a lot of different feelings, too.”
He kissed her hair. A chill went up her spine as warmth settled deep in the pit of her stomach. “What… what kind of feelings?”
“Well, they're kind of hard for a man to explain, but I'll do my best.” He shifted, drawing her in closer. “I don't like being away from you during the day while I’m working. So I work harder so I can come home sooner.”
Libby pulled away and looked at him. “You do?”
“Yep, I sure do. And even though the first few times you cooked for me, I was afraid it was going to kill me, I ate it anyway to show you my appreciation for the work you put in.”
“I thought it was because I'd didn't do as badly as Gwen.”
“Oh, trust me, honey; you both did pretty bad at first. Walton and I had our share of belly aches the first few tries.”
She hesitated, even though he made a joke and tried to lighten the mood. She picked at her dress. One of his hands covered hers to make her stop. Libby looked into his eyes in response. “Nate?”
“What, darlin’?” he asked, his voice soft as he leaned toward her.
“If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”
“I've never lied to you, Libby. I'm not gonna start now. Does this have anything to do with that woman who showed up at Walt’s yesterday?”
“Not anymore,” she said as she now leaned in his direction.
“Then, what is it?” he asked, their faces inches apart.
Libby swallowed hard. “Do you love me?”
He drew back a few inches. “Do I love you?” Their eyes locked. “Do I love you?” he repeated.
She looked at him and could scarcely breathe.
He reached up and cupped her face with a hand. “Do I love you?” he whispered. “Do I?” The words were spoken against her lips. “Do I love you, Libby?” he whispered as his mouth took hers. He drew her into his arms, and kissed her with a passion she had not yet experienced. His hands roamed her body as he deepened the kiss, one that caused her heart to pound in her chest like a herd of wild horses. When their lips parted, he whispered against her ear, “Do I love you, Libby? Do I?” He nibbled her earlobe and traced kisses down her neck. “Do I, Libby?” She tilted her head back as his mouth worked its magic across her neck to the other side. “Do I, darlin'?” He drew back and gave her a hungry look. “And what about you? Do you love me?”
Libby's mouth went dry. She still hadn’t recovered from his recent onslaught! She studied his face, mouth, eyes, everything there was about him in a single moment. “I do.”
Nate's lips curved into a tiny smile. He pulled her against him, closed the distance that remained, and kissed her with everything he ha
d. If Libby had had any doubt in her mind about Nate’s feelings for her before, she had none now.
In one swift move, he pulled her onto his lap and held tight, never once breaking the kiss. However, a man's gotta breathe. He pushed them apart, his breathing ragged; hers no better. “Nate!” she cried. “What are you doing to me?”
“Loving you, Libby; I'm loving you.” He stood with her in his arms, kissed her again, and when they were once more out of breath, carried his bride to the bedroom. Nate Dalton then showed his wife exactly how much he loved her.
Epilogue
The Dalton Ranch, Christmas day, 1888
Walton Dalton sat at the head of the dinner table, and gazed with pride at his achievements. He and his two brothers, Nate and Bart, had accomplished a feat that would take most men years to do.
They’d built an empire.
Small though it was, it would grow. In fact, it already had. His wife, Gwen, was with child, and he couldn’t be happier. Now his brothers would have to play catch up, or forever be jealous.
“That was a fine meal, Libby, Gwen,” Nate told them with a nod as he patted his stomach. “I don’t know when I’ve eaten as much.”
“And to think we had no help from Bonnie!” Gwen added with a smile.
Walt leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful cook. I can’t wait for you to teach our … well, whatever it is we’re having.”
“Even if it’s a boy?” asked Bart from the other end of the table.
“Even if it’s a boy,” Walt said with a smile.
Libby fidgeted in her chair, but said nothing. The men talked a lot about Walt and Gwen’s good fortune. She glanced at Bonnie, and saw that she looked just as uncomfortable with the subject.
“Who’s ready for dessert?” Bonnie asked, only to get the men to talk about something else.
“You know I am!” said Walt and Bart in unison.
Everyone went still for a moment, before all six burst into laughter. In fact, they were laughing so hard, no one noticed at first when the door was thrown open.
Walt was the first to snap his mouth shut and come halfway out of his chair. “What the…” He froze as the distinct sounds of shotguns being cocked caught everyone’s attention.
Three men stood just inside Nate and Libby’s cabin, looking very angry. But not as angry as Gwen, “Benedict! What are you doing here?” she screeched.
Walt’s eyes flicked between his wife and the man he figured had to be this Benedict. He was the only one making direct eye contact with her.
Bonnie’s mouth dropped open shock. “Hank?”
Now it was Bart’s turn to gawk. He narrowed his eyes at the man in the middle, and then slowly turned to look at Bonnie. “Who the hel…”
“Percy?” Libby squeaked at the same time, as she sank a few inches in her chair.
The Dalton brothers were caught off guard. They had no guns at the ready, no weapons… and the fact that their wives knew these men was the most disarming of all!
“Get ‘em up,” demanded Benedict. “Now!”
The Dalton brothers exchanged a quick glance. They were at a distinct disadvantage, so did as he said, and raised their hands in the air.
“Gwen, Libby, Bonnie,” snapped Hank, the one in the middle, “get over here. We’re going home.”
Bonnie closed her eyes tight, opened them, and stood. “Hank? What in Heaven’s name are you doing here?”
Bart stared at the newcomer. “Hank?” he mouthed, his face contorted in confusion.
“We might ask you the same question!” snapped the third man, Percy.
“If you must know,” Gwen began, “we live here!”
“Yes, we can see that,” Benedict said as he took a threatening step forward, “and it looks mighty cozy.”
Libby sat up, her face red. “You can’t take us back! You just can’t!”
“Take you back?” Nate said, his hands balling into fists. “What are you talking about? Who are these men?”
“We’d like to know the same about you!” snapped Percy as he raised his shotgun a little higher.
“I don’t care who you are!” barked Walt. “You’re trespassing; get off our land!”
“You’re hardly in a position to demand anything,” Hank pointed out. “All we want are these women.”
“Yeah, they’ve caused us a lot of trouble the last few months!” added Benedict.
“How could we?” asked Gwen. “We’ve been here the whole time!”
“Precisely, which is why we’ve come to fetch you and take you back to where and whom you belong,” Percy said as he aimed his gun at Nate’s heart.
“Percy! Don’t!” Libby cried.
“Don’t what? Shoot this scum for running off with ya? Or was it the other way around?”
Bonnie squared her shoulders. “Enough!”
“Enough of what, Bonnie?” Hank demanded. “You three have put the family through enough!”
“Shut up, all of you!” Bart shouted above the stranger’s tantrum.
“I say we hang these scum,” suggested Percy.
All three sisters were now on their feet. “NO!”
And then, all hell broke loose…
Walt shoved Gwen behind him as Bart lunged for the nearest man. Libby disappeared completely under the table, whether she was pushed under by Nate or she dove, no one knew, she was just gone. Bonnie stood frozen, and watched in horror as her husband fought for control of Benedict’s shotgun. And for Bonnie, Gwen, and Libby (wherever she was), time stood still.
A terrified Libby watched the mad scramble of booted feet rush here and there from her vantage point under the table. Nate pushed her down the moment Bart lunged at one of her brothers. How did Benedict, Hank, and Percy find them? Of course, Hank had to have told their father they’d run away, or maybe spilled the beans that Bonnie had enlisted the help of a mail-order bride service. Not that it mattered now. What did, was keeping her husband alive! Though, she’d have to do the same for her brothers as well.
She crawled to the end of the table, glanced at Gwen tucked into a corner, and grabbed a knife off of Walt’s plate. She then crawled back to the fray, and stabbed the first boot to come within range.
Unfortunately, it was Nate’s. “OW!” She watched as he hopped on one foot for a second, and then dodged something, probably one of her brothers’ fists, but whose?
She scooted to the edge of the table to risk a better view. For whatever reason, the guns were nowhere to be seen, and the men were now engaged in a fist-fight. Of course, she didn’t think her big brothers would really shoot Nate or his brothers, but they weren’t past using them to get what they wanted! And now they were trying to prove how tough they were, just as they always did. Was it any wonder she and her sisters ran away?
Bart landed next to her on the floor with an audible thud. “Libby! You okay?” But before she could answer, someone pulled him to his feet.
Libby began to back further under the table when … BLAM!
Every boot within Libby’s line of vision stopped.
She crawled forward a few inches, and peeked out again. Bonnie had a shotgun in her hand, and Libby had a new hole in her roof. Sensing she’d best help Bonnie, Libby climbed out from under the table.
“Sit down, all of you!” Bonnie demanded.
“Put that gun away before you shoot somebody!” Benedict barked at her.
“That’s a good idea; maybe I oughta,” she said as she swung the barrel in his direction.
Benedict’s hands went up, as did Walt’s, who stood next to him.
Gwen came out from the safety of the corner. “Walt! She’s not going to shoot you!”
Walt reached up and touched the growing lump on his head, shook his head to clear it, then pulled Gwen into his arms. “Who are you?” he asked the men.
“We’re the Blue brothers,” said Hank. “And we’ve come to take our sisters home.”
“Brothers?” asked Nate. He grabbed Libby to him.
“You never said you had brothers.”
“And our sisters never said they were leaving,” added Percy.
“Leaving?” began Bart. “What do ya mean, leaving?”
“He means our sisters ran out on a scandal caused by Gwen,” Benedict told him. “To alleviate any further damage to the family name, our father painstakingly chose a husband for each of them.”
“Yeah, and how do they show their appreciation?” snapped Percy. “By running away!”
“Pa sent us here to bring you back. Deacons Smith, Jackson, and Belafonte paid a tidy sum for us to do it, too.”
“But you can’t take us back!” Gwen cried.
“And why not?” asked Benedict as he inched toward Bonnie.
“Because we’re all married, that’s why!” Bonnie announced and raised the gun higher.
Benedict stopped. “We figured that might happen, but those old Deacons don’t care. They want you three like fleas want a dog.”
Libby and Gwen gasped. “If you’re thinking that we’re getting annulments, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“It’s been done before,” said Percy. “I just hope these scum haven’t dishonored you beyond repair.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and shook her head. “They’ve done nothing of the sort. In fact, I’m not only married, I’m expecting!”
Benedict’s eyes went straight to her belly, as did his brother’s. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not,” she said firmly.
“So what if we only bring back two,” said Percy. “Two out of three isn’t bad!”
“Oh, no you won’t!” Libby cried.
“And why not?” demanded Hank.
“Because …” she looked up at Nate. “I’m going to have a baby, too.”
Nate blanched. “What?! You are? Good God, Libby, are ya sure?”
“Yeah, are ya sure?” asked Benedict, who, at this point, looked even paler than Nate did.
“I’m sure,” she said, and put her arms around him.
“Libby, my little Libby …”
Walt and Gwen exchanged a quick glance. Libby was pregnant?!
Percy’s mouth dropped open in shock at the display. He spun to Bonnie. “Looks like it’s just you, Bonnie Blue.”
