“Such a somber mood for a lovely lady? I wish you hadn’t pinned your hair up. I like it better down.”
“Conner, about what happened—”
“We’ll talk. Later.”
He stepped away and she looked beyond Conner to see that her uncle accompanied Macaria.
Conner appeared to withdraw as they joined them.
“I sent your brothers to rest and spoke with Hazer,” Macaria said. “He informed me that Charles was there with his men. That is how they were able to capture him.”
“From what I heard,” Phillip began, taking his niece’s hand in his own, “Albert may have been with him. The men are riding back with pack mules to bring the bodies into town. I’m going to go with them. If Albert is dead, I want to know.”
Belinda wished she could feel some remorse, but the thought of her cousin scheming to kill her wiped away any feeling of grief. She nodded her acceptance of his decision.
“Charles is locked in the woodshed,” Macaria informed Conner. “What will you do with him?”
“Who do you ask, Madre, your son or the sheriff?”
“To me they are one and the same.” She held her son’s steady gaze with her own for long seconds before she looked at Phillip. She was thankful to have had him with her through this ordeal. His strength and quiet acceptance had shored her flagging spirits.
“Whatever decision you make regarding this man, my son, we will all stand beside you.”
“Belinda must decide for herself where she stands on this matter, but I, too, offer my complete support to you, Conner,” Phillip assured him. “Charles was my friend. I feel as betrayed by the way he used me and my niece as you do for what has been done to your family. I’ve been told by your mother that hanging is the usual payment for a cattle rustler. And that it is commonly carried out without any delay.”
Phillip’s voice churned with anger as he added, “But that bastard tried to kill my niece. And if you don’t see that he’s punished, I will.”
Belinda jumped to her feet. “Stop it, Uncle. What you are demanding of Conner is murder. You do not have that right. No one does.”
“Is that your choice?” Conner asked her.
For long moments she stared into his eyes, shocked that he allowed her a glimpse into the war he fought within himself. Abruptly he turned back to his mother.
“Civil it is. He’ll stand trial. To make sure there are no accusations leveled against me or my family and friends,” he said with a nod toward Phillip, “I’ll send word to town for Rob and Tom Sweet to come and get him. They’ll be charged with keeping him alive.”
Conner offered his arm to Belinda. “If you’ll both excuse us?”
He didn’t wait for an answer but swept her along the path and out the back gates. With a quick turn he pressed her up against the high wooden fence.
“I have one question to ask, Belinda. Will you stay?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Belinda stayed. Conner temporarily removed himself from office, appointing Rob Long as deputy. Word was sent for the circuit court judge to make his stop at Sweetwater months early and Conner impressed upon him the need for a speedy trial.
The ever-faithful Mrs. Dobbs visited the jail every day. Rob, on Conner’s instructions, never allowed her a moment alone with Charles. Everything, food and clothing was searched before being given to the prisoner.
Mark found himself courted by the other territorial papers for information and The Gazette had to increase its weekly copies. But one thing he never reported was the ranting heard when letters to former political associates were returned unopened to Charles.
Albert’s body was never found. Belinda did not know if her cousin lived. She learned through the almost daily telegrams to and from her man of business, that no one had seen Albert in the city and when he inquired at Albert’s rooms, his landlady was in the process of packing his belongings for storage in the basement. His rent was due and she had no intention of holding the rooms for him.
The coming trial hovered in the background as Belinda experienced the wonder of falling in love with Conner.
The days melted one into the other, a time to be treasured. She had always longed for freedom, and Conner gave her that gift, encouraging her to say what she pleased, listening to her express her thoughts, laughing and teasing and kissing her senseless. But he never again made love to her.
It was a cloud on her happiness, but she understood why a few weeks later when he had bluntly asked if she had had her monthly courses. Blushing furiously, too shocked to answer him, she managed a nod before fleeing to the house.
Much later, alone in her room, she had calmly reasoned out why he had asked and fully faced the risk she would take by making love to him again. There was no question in her mind that Conner cared a great deal for her, but he had never said that he loved her. The future was simply not discussed.
Conner was a man she could spend the rest of her life with. And seeing Dixie and Ty with their baby, sharing their happiness, brought an ache to her that grew and grew. She wanted to explore more of the passionate nature Conner revealed. And she wanted the perfect lover—one Conner Kincaid.
In the end, she decided she could not force a declaration from him.
They rode together most days, sometimes with Jessie and Logan alone, or with the boys. The weeks were sweet with berry picking, picnics and swimming on moonlit nights in the pond.
She never withheld herself from him. The perfume of crushed, sweet-smelling grass often scented the place where she lay with her head pillowed on Conner’s shoulder while they talked of everything from childhood to the growing problems in the territory as settlers and miners poured into lands claimed by the Indians. She told him of her problems in filling a growing demand for beef, and they learned that despite all else Riverton had done, some good had come from him. The railroad would build a line passing through the town.
When the talking died to whispers, he would take her in his arms, kissing her until a fever spread, some nights leaving her abruptly until passion cooled.
It was a lengthy exercise in frustration.
And then there was Marty. Belinda had reconciled herself to allowing Jessie and Logan to retain the role of parents. Marty loved the gifts she had shared between him and Kenny. But it was her understanding, from the mornings she spent with him, that she would destroy his happiness if she took him away.
Legal rights aside, Belinda had come to love her nephew and she had finally decided that this was where he belonged. She knew that Jessie was anxious about her decision.
One morning, finding Jessie alone in the kitchen, Belinda knew she could not put off talking to her any longer.
“I hope we can work it out so that you will let him visit me, Jessie. I want to remain a part of his life. I cannot simply walk away from Marty. There is his inheritance to consider, too. Someday he may want it. I just needed to tell you that I won’t be taking him back with me.”
“I had no idea you were still planning to go, Belinda. I…we all assumed that you and Conner—”
“He hasn’t asked me to stay. Not forever,” she added, unable to meet the compassion in Jessie’s eyes.
“Do you love him?”
It was a measure of how much Belinda had changed that she did not immediately tell her it was not her business to ask such a personal question, but instead toyed with the coffee cup in front of her.
“Belinda, don’t you know?”
“He did ask me to stay. I think he only meant until after the trial. As for loving him,” she whispered, “I—”
“Belinda, look at me.” Jessie put her own hands over the cup. “Look at me. If you can imagine yourself with someone else, then you’re not in love with him. If you believe that without him in your life, there is no life, then you love him. I know you have your wealthy friends back East and your businesses. But if they really mattered, would you have stayed this long? Marty is part of the reason, but I think Conner is the other part.
/>
“Maybe the major part. Even your uncle believes you’re in love with Conner. And why are you still wondering how he feels? Why haven’t you asked him?”
“Asked me what?” Conner said, coming in the back door. “I’ve just had word Judge Beltane has arrived.”
“Has he set a date?” Belinda asked.
“Two days. He wants that much time to review the evidence I put together and talk with the lawyers that Riverton’s hired.”
“You’ll be staying in town then?” Jessie asked.
“I leave tomorrow morning.” He cast a longing look at Belinda’s back.
Belinda gracefully slid from the bench and, without looking at either of them, announced that she would find her uncle to tell him the news.
“He just rode out with my mother. They both know.”
Two days. Two days left. Belinda repeated this over and over. She had to do something. But flinging herself into Conner’s arms and demanding a declaration of love and a promise of marriage required courage, boldness and some sense of that love being returned. She had the first two in abundance, but lacked the third, and to her, the most necessary ingredient.
Conner left for town in the morning. Belinda rode in each day with her uncle and Macaria in the carriage, Logan and Ty riding alongside. The trial didn’t last very long. Not one of Charles’s business associates or political friends came to speak on his behalf. And judged by a jury of his peers, he was sentenced to twenty-five years in Yuma prison.
Conner didn’t believe that Riverton would survive. Justice had been served, not quite the way he thought it would be, but then he’d learned that following the law meant following a hard mistress.
The next morning Jessie found Belinda alone and resumed her campaign the moment Conner joined them.
“I bet Belinda would love to go for a ride,” Jessie suggested, eyeing her brother-in-law with a glare that spoke volumes. When Conner didn’t appear to take her hint, she added, “That’s what we were talking about when you came in, Conner. Belinda was wondering if she should ask you to take her for a ride.” Then, in a sharp tone, with a pointed look at the lady in question, Jessie prompted, “It is true, isn’t it? You do want to go riding with him?”
Yes! she all but screamed. Belinda wanted to go, but she thought of how it would end—Conner kissing her until her knees were weak, leaving her restless and heated, yearning again for the fulfillment she had known in his arms. There was only so much punishment a body could take. Belinda had had her share.
“I did mention it, but I have changed my mind.”
The moment Belinda left the kitchen, Jessie lit into Conner. “You are the most thickheaded Kincaid. How could you let her go? Any fool could see she wanted to be with you. Any fool can see that you’re halfway in love with her. Any fool—”
“Jessie, I’m not a fool.”
Conner found Belinda in the garden sitting on her favorite bench. Marty was giving her another lesson about his pet ferret PeeWee, extolling the animal’s hunting exploits in great detail. Seeing Conner, he stopped talking.
“There’re some orphan calves that need feeding. I know Kenny and Santo could use some help with them, Marty.”
“Oh, but Aunt Belinda loves hearing how PeeWee can hunt. Don’t you?”
“Marty,” Conner said in a voice that brooked no more argument, “I want to talk with your aunt alone.”
“Oh.” He looked from one to the other. “Gonna do more of that kissin’ stuff?”
“If I am, I sure don’t want you around for an audience.”
“Conner!” Belinda protested. But Marty was laughing.
“I’m going. Would you like me to leave PeeWee with you?” He offered his dearest pet to Belinda.
Conner stepped in again. “No, she doesn’t want him.” With a firm hand on Marty’s shoulder, he turned him in the direction of the house. “Off with you.”
Watching the boy depart, Belinda sighed. “I have a great deal to learn about little boys.” Her tone was wishful. “They ask a great many questions. Some that are impossible to answer.”
Conner had a few of his own she would likely classify the same way.
“At least you don’t get cornered by Ty very often. He must be the proudest papa this family’s ever had. He can’t stop talking about his daughter’s every inch, every sound and every move, for anyone who’ll stand still long enough to listen.”
“I am sure his love coats each word. Have you ever thought about having children, Conner?”
“I’ve thought about it. Most men do. I’ve just never found a woman who wanted to settle down with a small-town sheriff and part-time rancher.”
“I see.” Belinda found the tips of her slippers required her attention. Her uncle had gone to Riverton’s home and packed all her belongings. Today she wore a two-piece cream printed calico polonaise dress trimmed with a dark green piping and slippers to match.
“I don’t think you do, Belinda.”
The sudden serious note begged her to look up at him. She found the strength of will to resist.
Conner tried a different tack. “I don’t think your uncle will be returning with you.” She turned a startled glance on him. “He mentioned wanting to look at some land north of Sweetwater.”
“He never mentioned that to me.”
Conner looked at her nettled expression. “He didn’t think you’d be interested. He knows what your plans are. You’re leaving at the end of the week.”
She could no longer hold his gaze, and looked away.
“You are planning on leaving, aren’t you?”
“It was always my intent.”
“You don’t sound very sure of that, Belinda.”
“I have my home, friends, businesses. I told Jessie I won’t be taking Marty with me. Not this time. But I want him to visit with me.” She was intently aware of him, despite the few feet of distance he maintained. Would she ever lose that awareness? When there were a few thousand miles between them. She did not want to think about that.
“I had hoped…”
“What?” Dark and luminous, her gaze fixed on him. She took in the lean power of his body and his unsmiling face. There was a restlessness about him he couldn’t hide and she wondered what caused it. A despair wrapped around her. How could she say…no, if Conner wanted her, he would have to be the one to speak first.
“You’ve enjoyed the past few weeks, haven’t you?”
“Very much.”
“You’re making this difficult.”
“Difficult?” she repeated. “Since I have no idea what it is that you’re attempting—”
“I want you to stay, Belinda.”
“You asked me that weeks ago. I stayed.”
“You’re not making it difficult. You’re making this impossible. Up,” he ordered, snatching her to her feet when she didn’t move fast enough for him. “Do you want me to go down on bended knee?”
“Whatever for, Conner?” But she knew! Her heart beat furiously and a curious warmth unfurled inside her, setting off a series of tiny tremors.
“I’ve never proposed to a woman.”
“I cannot tell you how very happy that makes me.” Her smile was radiant. Conner’s grin was sheer wickedness.
“I want you to marry me. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t carry on a sane conversation with anyone because all I hear is your voice, and all I want to do is be with you.”
Belinda found herself in his arms, but she covered his lips with the tips of her fingers. “There is something more you need to say, Conner Kincaid.”
“That I love you,” he whispered. “I do, you know. More than I thought I could ever love—”
“Conner, I cannot sew.”
“Then I’ll take extra care not to tear my clothes. Definitely a poor bargain for me. But we’ll make plenty of work for a seamstress.”
“I have no cooking skills.”
He kissed each temple. “Ah, but I disagree. You heat me to the right temperature wit
h a look from those wide, dark brown eyes. And love, we can afford to hire a cook.”
“I will not be a docile wife, Conner.”
He removed her hand and placed it against his heart. “Belinda, if you don’t want to marry me, a simple no will do. I thought—”
“Conner! Of course I want to marry you. I just don’t want you to think I’ll be like Jessie or Dixie—”
“You won’t have babies…my babies? You won’t love me and fight me and love me some more?”
She caught hold of his ears and drew his lips down to hers. “Be serious, you impossible, thickheaded Kincaid.”
And he saw then the underlying fear she had. He didn’t realize he could love her more, but he did at that moment, when he understood that she measured herself against his brothers’ wives and found herself too different from them. And he knew that before he could put her fears to rest, he had to let her say them.
“Tell me, Belinda, what sort of a wife will I have?”
“My social skills are considered to be excellent.”
“We host dinners for everyone in the territory.” He pecked a kiss on her nose. One on each cheek, then skimmed his lips across hers. “Next.”
“I really am very good at making money.”
“Got a little printing press of your own?”
“Conner, be serious! These are important—”
“Yes, very important and I am serious. If you make money and we make love, what’s there to worry about? You tend to forget, Miss Belinda Jarvis soon-to-be-Kincaid, you’ve got the law on your side.” He couldn’t wait a moment more and took her mouth in a cherishing kiss.
Minutes later he lifted his head. “As I was saying, you’ve got the law at your beck and call, dedicated to serve—”
“Conner, why won’t you make love to me?”
“Because I wanted the next time to be as my wife. I did everything wrong before. You deserved to be courted with flowers and candy, serenaded by moonlight—”
“And who,” she asked with an impudent smile, “would be singing love songs to me?”
Once a Lawman Page 23
