Montana Bride

by Joan Johnston

  Hetty shivered as a gust of wind lifted her skirt and tiny icicles of snow blasted her cheeks.

  Bao said, “Much snow tonight.”

  “Let’s eat fast and get these dishes washed and everything packed up,” Karl said.

  Everyone except Griffin sat down to eat, racing to get the warm stew into their stomachs before the snow cooled it off. Then they scattered to do all the chores necessary to prepare for the storm Bao had predicted.

  As Hetty crossed to the wagon to stow away the cooking pot and utensils, her shoulders sagged at the thought of how the storm might delay their journey. She wondered how the Chinaman knew there would be a lot of snow and whether he was going to be right. She was so mortally tired of traveling. She’d left Chicago in March, and Thanksgiving was around the corner. She was more than ready to have a solid roof over her head again.

  Karl finished tying off a tarp that would keep the snow from blowing under the wagon. The two kids were already inside the closure when Hetty joined him.

  “That should keep you and the kids from getting buried under a drift,” he said.

  Hetty glanced toward the canvas tent that had been set up for the three men, where Dennis and Bao had already retired. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

  “As long as the snow stops sometime tonight, we should be able to travel tomorrow. It’ll be slow going, and we’ll have to be careful of drifts, but I see no reason why we can’t reach the logging camp tomorrow evening or early the next day.”

  Hetty tied the wool scarf around her head a little tighter as the wind whipped up. “We’re that close?”

  Karl smiled, winced as his injured eye crinkled, then said, “Yeah.”

  Hetty shivered and tucked her hands under her arms to warm them. Once they arrived at their new home, Karl would expect their marriage to move forward. She didn’t know how long she could hold him off. She had no idea how she was going to fake experience in bed she didn’t have. She didn’t know how she was going to make love to a man she didn’t love.

  Hetty was tired of pretending, and there was no end of it in sight. She felt sad and lonely and so alone. A small sound of distress escaped as a wave of homesickness washed over her.

  “You all right?” Karl asked.

  Hetty started, unaware that Karl had moved and was standing right behind her. She turned to him and said, “I’m just tired of traveling.”

  Karl pulled her snug against him, encircling her in his arms, making her feel safe and secure.

  Hetty leaned her head against his shoulder, yearning to share the burden she carried with someone else. Unfortunately, that someone couldn’t be Karl, not until this marriage was consummated and it was too late for him to back out. She shivered as she thought of the wedding night to come.

  “You’re cold,” he said. “You should get under cover.”

  He put an arm around her waist and kept her close as they headed toward the opening in the canvas covering the base of the wagon. Hetty realized that in the short time since they’d finished supper, the gently falling snow had become something decidedly more malevolent.

  “Karl, I wish…”

  He stopped and turned her so they were facing, his hands at her waist. “What do you wish?”

  Hetty wished she’d been able to wait for an answer to the letter she’d sent to Hannah from Butte, care of General Delivery in Cheyenne, just in case Hannah had ended up there. It was awful not to know what had happened to her twin. Awful to think she might never see any of her family again.

  Hetty felt a sob building and swallowed it down. She felt Karl’s lips against her brow and pressed her body closer to his, seeking the only comfort to be had. Perhaps Karl sensed her feelings of regret for the situation in which she found herself. Oh, how awful for him if he did!

  Hetty’s arms found their way up around Karl’s neck, and she hugged him tight, offering back the comfort he’d given to her. She both craved the end of their journey and feared it. She worried about what he would do when he discovered that she’d been lying all along. What would happen to the three of them if he ever found out the truth?

  Then Karl spoke, and she knew for sure that he’d sensed what she hadn’t been able to say.

  He spoke into her ear, so she heard him easily over the fierce, howling wind. “If you want out of this marriage, Hetty, tell me now.”

  Hetty stared up at him, shocked at his suggestion. “Do you want out?” she blurted.

  “This is about what you want.”

  She could have her freedom. She could head back to Cheyenne to discover what had happened to Hannah and Josie. If she couldn’t find them, she could head to Texas to hunt for her eldest sister, Miranda, and two younger brothers, Nick and Harry. She could try to reunite with her family.

  Or she could stay where she was. And go on with her life. And remain Karl Norwood’s wife.

  The temptation to leave was strong. There was nothing holding her here. Except two children she’d come to love.

  Hetty looked into Karl’s shadowed brown eyes and saw the worry there. She wondered just how much he would be hurt if she took him up on his offer. And realized she would never know, because she could never leave the children. She was their mother, for now and always. But Karl didn’t need to know she was making her decision based on them rather than him.

  “I’ll stay, Karl, if that’s all right with you.”

  She hadn’t realized quite how anxious he was until she felt his shoulders relax. For a moment she thought he would kiss her. But he didn’t.

  Then he changed his mind.

  His lips were cold when they touched hers but quickly warmed. His tongue came searching, and Hetty opened to him. It was a kiss of possession, fierce despite its brevity. When Karl ended the kiss, Hetty’s nerves felt shattered.

  How could a simple kiss from such an ordinary man create such havoc inside her? She didn’t love Karl. In fact, she found his best friend far more physically attractive. She’d remained in Karl’s arms and sought comfort from him under false pretenses, and she’d agreed to stay married to him for reasons that had nothing to do with love.

  Hetty didn’t want to consider what her response to Karl’s kiss might mean. How had she become a woman who so callously flirted? Who relished attracting the attention of more than one man? Who needed and wanted to be adored…and didn’t seem to care who did the adoring?

  Hetty had a great deal to think about. She wished her mother was still alive. She wished her sisters were near. She felt inadequate, young and inexperienced and stupid. She wanted someone older and wiser to tell her what to do.

  But she had nowhere else to turn. She was going to have to look into her own heart and follow it.

  She met Karl’s gaze, tugged her wool coat tight, and said, “Good night, Karl.”

  He put a finger to the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. “Good night, Hetty.”

  Hetty scooted under the wagon through the opening Karl had left in the tarp and sought her pallet beside Grace. To her surprise, the girl was awake.

  “I saw you,” Grace whispered.

  “What?”

  “I saw you kissing him,” the girl said, her voice dripping with accusation.

  “Karl is my husband, Grace,” Hetty said in her defense.

  “Just be careful, Hetty,” the girl warned. “Men always want more than kisses.”

  Hetty opened her mouth to ask what Grace meant and shut it again. Poor Grace. She’d obviously seen far more of her mother’s business activities than any child should have. Hetty knew she should explain to Grace that what happened between a husband and wife was far different from what Grace’s mother had experienced with her customers. But the girl had already turrned her back on Hetty.

  It took a very long time for Hetty to fall asleep. Before she could explain to Grace the difference between selling one’s body for money and sharing one’s body for love, she was going to have to make peace with her decision to marry Karl Norwood. Because love woul
d likely be no part of it when she finally gave herself to her husband.

  Karl was the first one up the next morning. He hadn’t, in fact, done much sleeping. The roiling questions in his head had kept him awake. In another day, or at most two, they would reach the cabin. He probably shouldn’t have asked Hetty whether she wanted to stay married to him. Her answer had come with enough hesitation to make him wonder how close she’d come to giving him a different answer.

  The thought of making love to a reluctant woman had given him nightmares. He wasn’t sure whether he felt relieved or more anxious now that his wife had agreed to continue the marriage.

  Karl had always been realistic about his looks. He would never have had the courage to court such an incredibly lovely woman. A great deal of his reluctance to accept the unexpected gift of a beautiful wife was the knowledge that Hetty might always yearn for a husband equal to her in good looks. In short, that she might never be able to love him.

  But had love ever been a realistic expectation when he’d acquired a bride sight unseen? Karl had been pleased that his mail-order bride had never requested details of his appearance. Now he questioned why a woman as beautiful as Hetty had wanted to become a mail-order bride. Which brought him back to square one.

  Did he want to be married to Hetty? It didn’t matter, really, because unless Hetty wanted out—and she’d said she didn’t—it would be difficult to undo the wedding. And Karl was honest enough, and human enough, to admit he was looking forward to the day when he could make love to his bride.

  Bao appeared at Karl’s side, wading through the two feet of snow that had drifted to six feet around the wagon, and said, “Storm not over.”

  “Of course it is,” Karl replied, glancing up at an almost clear blue sky.

  Bao shook his head. He pointed to the dark, lowering clouds in the distance. “More snow coming.”

  Karl didn’t know how the Chinaman was able to predict the weather, but he’d been right more often than not. “Guess that means we’d better get everyone up and moving.”

  “I make breakfast,” Bao said. “You wake wife and kids.”

  Karl untied the tarp wrapped around the wagon and let it fall down to reveal the three inside. Except, there were only two heads—one blond, one redheaded—visible under a pile of blankets. The third pallet was empty.

  Karl looked for footsteps in the snow or any sign that Griffin might have woken up early and gone to answer a call of nature. The snow was pristine. The kid must have left sometime during the night.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “Hetty, wake up! Grace, where’s your brother?”

  Grace was startled awake and looked bleary-eyed at Karl. “What do you mean?” She glanced around long enough to realize Griffin wasn’t under the wagon with them and said, “Isn’t he outside with you?”

  “Would I be asking where he is if he was out here with me?” Karl replied acerbically. “There are no tracks in the snow. Did he say anything about taking off on his own?”

  Neither female had undressed except to pull off her shoes, and both Hetty and Grace quickly pulled their shoes back on, tied the laces, grabbed their coats, and bounded from beneath the wagon.

  Grace looked in every direction without moving. Hetty looked only at him.

  “Are you sure he’s missing?” Hetty said. “Maybe he just—”

  “Look around you,” Karl interrupted. “Do you see any footprints leading away from the wagon?”

  Hetty searched the ground. “Maybe there are some at the back of the wagon.”

  “I already looked. There’s no sign of anybody leaving the wagon after the snow stopped.”

  Hetty’s eyes were wide with shock. She turned to Grace and asked, “Why on earth would he run away?”

  Grace sobbed once before she could control herself enough to speak. “Griffin told me that he didn’t tie down Mr. Campbell’s horse. That when Dennis went looking this morning his horse would be gone. I told him I was sick and tired of his games, and he’d better find that horse and get him back before morning or he wasn’t my brother anymore. But I was angry. I didn’t mean it!”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Hetty said, taking the girl in her arms. She looked up at Karl with desperate eyes. “You have to find him, Karl.”

  Karl knew the horse would have wandered with its tail to the wind. There was no telling how far Griffin had gone while hunting for it, or whether he’d even gone off in the same direction as the horse. If Bao was right, there was more snow and cold on the way. The boy might slide into a deep drift, freeze to death in the cold, and not be found until spring. “I’ll do my best, Hetty. The rest of you need to finish the journey without me.”

  “We can’t leave!” Hetty said. “What if Griffin comes back here and we’re all gone? He won’t know where to look for us.”

  “Bao says there’s more snow coming. I want you and Grace out of the weather. Once you arrive at the logging camp, Dennis and Bao can get mounts and come help me with the search. That is, if I haven’t already found Griffin.”

  Hetty’s worried gaze told him that she suspected how slim the chances were that he would find the missing boy, especially if the weather worsened.

  “Please let me help you look for him,” she begged.

  “Take me, too,” Grace pleaded.

  “You can both help me best by getting to the logging camp safe and sound,” Karl said, steeling himself against the tears in both sets of eyes.

  “Breakfast ready, Boss,” Bao said.

  “Get everybody fed and get on the trail,” he told the Chinaman. “I’m going hunting for Griffin.”

  “Boy not here?” Bao asked.

  “He went hunting for Dennis’s horse, which must have slipped its picket during the storm.” Karl didn’t know why he’d lied about what had really happened. Except he didn’t want any more trouble between Dennis and Griffin. Assuming he got Griffin back.

  “When you get to the camp,” Karl continued, “get Hetty and Grace settled at the house. If I’m not back with Griffin by tonight, you and Dennis can come looking for both of us in the morning.”

  Karl didn’t give Hetty a chance to argue further, simply gathered the survival supplies he needed and headed off to saddle his horse.

  As Karl was mounting, Dennis came out of the tent and asked, “Where are you headed so early?”

  “Griffin’s missing. I’m going to hunt him down.”

  “Wait a minute and I’ll join you.”

  “Griffin went hunting for your horse. It’s gone.”

  Dennis swore. “I knew better than to trust that brat to take care of him.”

  “That ‘brat’ went out into the storm to find your mount. I don’t want to hear another word about it,” Karl retorted. “Bao says there’s more weather coming. Do your best to get everybody to the logging camp before it hits.”

  Before Dennis could say more, Karl kicked his mount and headed in the direction the wind had been blowing last night. With any luck, the horse—and the boy following it—hadn’t gone far.

  Hetty spent the first night in her new log home praying that Griffin would be found alive. Grace was inconsolable. She was certain her brother had frozen to death. Hetty was also worried about Karl. He knew everything there was to know about plants, but what did he know about unrelenting snow and ruthless wind and brutal temperatures? What were his chances of finding one little boy in this vast, hostile wilderness?

  Instead of going to bed in what was clearly Karl’s bedroom, Hetty had settled into one of the two willow rockers she’d found in front of the river-rock fireplace in the parlor. She’d wrapped herself in a blanket and kept vigil through the night. By the time dawn arrived, Hetty was physically and emotionally drained. The wind still howled, and icy fingers of cold slipped between cracks in the log chinking. Karl had not returned with Griffin. Even if he’d found the boy, Hetty knew they must be suffering terribly without shelter from the storm. Dennis and Bao had checked in with her this morning before they
’d ventured out into the frozen wasteland to search for Karl and Griffin.

  Hetty’s heart physically ached. It couldn’t be the fear of losing Karl. She’d only known him a matter of weeks, although it hadn’t taken much more time than that to fall in love with Clive. Except, she wasn’t in love with Karl. She wasn’t sure she could ever open her heart to another man. She was never going through that kind of pain again.

  No, her heart must be aching for Griffin. He reminded her of her little brother, Nick, who was nearly the same age, even to the devilry the boy seemed always to get into.

  “Mom?”

  Hetty turned at the whispered word and opened her arms to Grace, who’d left the bedroom she should have shared with her brother last night and now crawled into Hetty’s lap, wrapping her arms tightly around Hetty’s neck.

  “They didn’t come back,” Grace said against Hetty’s throat.

  “Karl’s a very smart man. He’s probably holed up somewhere with Griffin right now, waiting out the storm. They’ll come riding up to the cabin as soon as the sun comes out.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Grace asked, lifting her head to look into Hetty’s eyes.

  “I want to believe it,” Hetty said, unwilling to lie to the girl. “We mustn’t lose hope now.”

  “I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if anything happens to Griffin,” Grace said in a choked voice. “I don’t know why I said what I did. I would never abandon him. Never! I was just so angry with him.”

  “It’s only human to lose patience now and again with those closest to us.” Hetty vividly remembered her twin raging at her after Mr. McMurtry died, blaming her for everything that had gone wrong. And yet, Hannah had gone off into the wilderness to find help when Hetty was wounded, begging her to stay alive, reminding Hetty that they were bound together forever as two halves of one precious whole.