Yellowstone Homecoming: Yellowstone Romance Series Novella

by Peggy L Henderson

  He released her, and ran a shaky hand across his face. Della touched his arm. Her father’s shocking admission held her rooted to the spot. She hesitated, then leaned against him. “I love you, Father,” she whispered.

  His chest heaved, and his arms went around her again. “I love you, Adelle,” he rasped. “When those Indians took you, I thought I was being punished for making the same mistake with you as I’d made with your mother. You’ve been a good daughter, and I’ve done wrong by you. I won’t keep you from your happiness.” He clasped her arms, and held her away from him. He smiled. “Follow your heart.”

  Della cocked her head. “Follow my heart?”

  Her father nodded. “I’ve decided to abandon my mission. Some trappers have agreed to guide us back to Fort Williams, and from there, to the Missouri. I’m heading back to New York, and I will resume my ministry there.” He looked to where Mary had stood quietly off to the side. “When those Indians took you, I nearly went mad. I thought I’d lost one daughter because of my stupidity. I won’t put Mary in danger.” His grip on Della’s arms tightened. “I won’t stop you if you choose not to go with us.”

  Della’s eyes widened. What was he saying? Her father gave her a quick shake. “Your heart is with Matthew Osborne, girl. He loves you. I’ve seen it in his eyes. If you love him, go to him. You have my blessing.”

  She blinked at this sudden turn of events. Slowly, she nodded. She loved Matthew. She’d known it for weeks, but she’d been too scared to tell him. Her heart pounded in her chest as her father’s words sank in, and because of everything she’d just learned. Her father, always so rigid and unapproachable, had laid out his soul to her. He wanted her to be happy, and follow her heart. There was only one place she wanted to be.

  “I have to talk to him,” she whispered. Was her father correct, and Matthew loved her, too?

  Don’t be afraid of what’s happening.

  Her father released her. Della gave her sister a quick hug, then she turned and ran through the large camp, dodging the throng of trappers, mountain men, and Indians. She ignored the rude calls from some of the men, and ran as if a war party of Pawnee was on her heels. She darted among men, horses, and tipis until she reached the place where Jim Bridger had stopped them earlier. Her chest heaved, and she fought to catch her breath.

  “Can I interest ya in some whiskey, girlie?” A man staggered toward her. Della coughed at the foul odor coming from his mouth. She shook her head.

  “Do you know where I can find Jim Bridger, or Thomas Fitzpatrick? I heard he’s been shot.”

  The trapper laughed. “Fitzpatrick’s been shot alright.” He swayed on his feet, and lifted his water bladder to his mouth. The strong odor of whiskey drifted to her nose.

  “Where is he?” she demanded.

  The trapper spun around, and nearly fell over. He pointed to one of the tents. “Over in yonder tent.”

  Della skirted around him. She coughed, and inhaled a fresh breath to get the nasty smell out of her nose. A familiar figure rounded the corner of the tent just then, wiping his hands on a piece of cloth. Della’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Matthew,” Della called, and ran toward him.

  Matthew’s head snapped toward her, a stunned expression on his face. She didn’t stop, and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “I love you,” she cried against his neck.

  Matthew’s arms clamped around her instantly, pushing any remaining air from her lungs. His tight grip lifted her off the ground, and she wrapped her arms more fully around his neck. In the next instant, he set her on her feet, and clasped her face between his hands. His mouth came down on hers like a man deprived of what he needed most.

  Della’s pulse raced, and her limbs weakened at the urgency in his kiss. She gripped tightly to his shoulders, and parted her lips to his heated kiss. His mouth left hers just as she fought for a breath of air. His lips slid along her cheek, to the side of her neck beneath her ear, and a shiver raced down her spine. Matthew panted for air, burying his face in her hair.

  “I love you, Addy. I wasn’t gonna let you leave.”

  He wrapped her in his arms, his muscles tense and trembling, and lifted her to him again.

  “Go’n find yerself a tent, why don’t ya,” someone shouted gruffly, and men’s laughter surrounded them.

  Matthew eased his hold on her, but didn’t set her down. His head drew back, and he smiled. Della’s eyes connected with the dark intensity of his stare.

  “I’m following my heart,” she whispered.

  “And I’m holding mine right here in my arms,” he said huskily. “I’ve been a fool for not telling you.”

  Della reached her hand up. She hesitated for only a second, then touched her palm to the side of Matthew’s whiskered cheek. “Does that mean you’re now willing to show me the wonders of where you were born and raised?” The corners of her lips twitched with a smile. Happiness and giddiness unlike anything she’d ever felt exploded in her. Matthew loved her. She was free to love him.

  Matthew’s eyes roamed over her face, and he grinned slowly. He brought one hand behind her head, stroking her hair. “I knew you had an ulterior reason for telling me you love me. You just want to see the Yellowstone. That’s been your plan all along, hasn’t it?”

  He brought her head toward him, and kissed her again. Della pressed her lips to his. Matthew’s hold on her tightened, igniting her heart to pound against his chest.

  “Ya gonna swallow that girl whole if ya don’t ease up.”

  Della pulled back. Her face flamed at Jim Bridger’s words. The trapper cackled loudly. Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave hers. The intensity of his stare, of the love burning in his eyes, left her breathless. Had it always been there, and she’d simply been afraid to see it for what it was?

  “I want to take you home with me as my wife,” he rasped. “Say you’ll marry me, Addy, and I’ll show you all the wonders the Yellowstone has to offer.”

  The sensation of warm liquid rushing through her body from head to toe left her tingling all over. Tears welled up in her eyes, and a huge lump formed in her throat.

  “I want to be your wife,” she croaked.

  Matthew kissed her again, slow and gentle this time, and set her on her feet. “What’s your father going to do to me if I ask him to marry us?” His lips curved upward and his eyes shone with laughter.

  Della cocked her head. Her forehead scrunched, and she pursed her lips. Then she burst into laughter. “I think he will say you have his blessing.”

  She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to the man she loved, and kissed away the astonished look on his face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What did you mean when you told my father that you’d be sure to keep me in line?”

  Della raised her brows, and admired Matthew’s broad back. The question had nagged at her all day. He’d never ordered her around before, and that was exactly what his words implied. Would their friendship be different, now that they were married? She’d kept quiet about the subject for hours, but now that they’d stopped for the night, it was at the forefront of her thoughts.

  The change in attitude from her father had been nothing short of miraculous. Just as she’d told Matthew, her father had given his blessing to their union, and had officiated over their quick wedding. He’d been truly remorseful for his treatment of her. It had taken her anger to finally make him realize what he’d been doing to her – treating her exactly as he’d treated his wife, trying to force her to his will and thinking it would bring them closer.

  After a round of congratulations from some of the trappers who’d come to witness their union, and a tearful good-bye with her father and sister, Matthew had bartered for supplies to get them the last leg of the journey to his family’s home. Thomas Fitzpatrick had given Matthew a rifle in appreciation for removing a bullet from his chest, and for saving his life.

  “You’ll see your father and sister again next spring when we
head east,” Matthew had told her, holding her in his arms while she stood and watched the wagons disappear from the valley. “We’ll go to New York before we head to Boston. Who knows, maybe I’ll rethink my original plan, and set up my medical practice in New York instead.”

  “You’d do that?” She’d glanced up at Matthew in astonishment.

  “I don’t see what difference it would make where I practice medicine,” he’d said with a shrug and a smile.

  They’d left the rendezvous shortly after.

  “It’s still early in the day. I’d like to put a few miles behind us, rather than spending the night here at rendezvous. It’s still a long ways to the Yellowstone.”

  “I know you’re anxious to get home,” she’d said.

  Matthew had held her with one arm around her waist. Love had shone in his eyes when he’d said, “I’m anxious to introduce my bride to my folks.”

  A loon called to its mate on the tranquil pond where they’d decided to stop for the night. The fluttering of wings broke through the sounds of crickets and frogs, as two ducks took to flight from the water.

  Matthew glanced over his shoulder from where he stood by his horse, unloading the pack of blankets and provisions he’d brought from rendezvous. The animal’s tail swished lazily at the evening bugs in the air, its head submersed in the tall grasses growing by the water. The horse next to it did the same.

  He turned back to what he was doing without answering her question. Della’s eyes lingered on her husband’s back and shoulders as he lifted the heavy packs to the ground. Her husband! If someone had told her this morning that by the evening she would be married, she would have laughed in disbelief.

  Matthew dropped the packs, and straightened. He turned, and headed for her, a smug grin on his face. Without warning, he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. Della’s hands shot up to brace against his shoulders. Heat rushed instantly from her chest to her extremities.

  “Your father did say you had to obey me as part of your vows,” he said in a sultry tone. He looked down at her, the colors of the evening sun reflected in his dark eyes. “I was only reinforcing his words by saying I’d keep you in line. You’re quite a handful, from everything I’ve seen so far. Your father knows it, so I wanted to reassure him that I was man enough to make you toe the line.”

  Della eyed the slight upward curve of his lips. His eyes sparkled with amusement. He even winked at her.

  “What if I refuse to toe the line?” she challenged.

  They’d bantered before, but she’d been reserved then, still unsure of how to act around him. Now that she’d admitted her feelings, and he’d told her he loved her, it came almost naturally.

  She’d vowed silently that she’d be a good wife to him. She was used to cooking, washing, keeping a clean house, and most other domestic duties. With marriage came other duties, however, and Della’s mouth suddenly went dry at the thought. She had only vague notions of what it meant to lie with a man. In her father’s church, the men sat on one side of the aisle, and the women and children on the other, and he’d often preached about the sins of the flesh.

  Matthew’s arms tightened around her waist, drawing her closer. Sudden dread enveloped her. His roguish grin sent flutters to her stomach. Would he expect her to lie with him tonight?

  “I think I can be pretty persuasive to make you do what I want,” he said in a low tone, and his mouth came down on hers.

  He held her in such a way that her body molded to his while he kissed her. Della’s limbs melted in his embrace. She’d never tire of Matthew’s kisses, and if that’s what he’d do to punish her, she’d be sure to step out of line as often as possible.

  “We’d better get camp set up,” he breathed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “I hope you won’t make me sleep on the other side of the fire tonight.”

  Della stiffened. There it was. He’d be expecting his rights as her husband, and she didn’t know what to do. Matthew loosened his hold on her. His forehead furrowed as his eyes traveled over her face. Della held her breath while he scrutinized her, as if he were searching for entry into her mind.

  “You’re my wife, Addy. There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said in that slow, quiet and deep voice that usually soothed away her fears. Not this time.

  She nodded, despite her apprehension, unable to form any words. Matthew’s fingers grazed her cheek, and he brushed his lips up against hers. His other hand slid slowly from her waist upward, until he touched the underside of her breast through the fabric of her dress.

  Della sucked in a quick breath, and closed her eyes, as new sensations raced through her at his simple touch. She leaned into his hand, and he continued to move upward until his palm completely covered her breast. Her knees weakened, and she grasped his arms to steady herself. Her father’s preaching all these years about sins of the flesh pounded in her head. His voice grew in intensity, and she fought to shut the noise out. Nothing about this felt wrong, or bad.

  The earsplitting sound of twigs breaking and branches snapping broke through the tranquil stillness of early evening. Della jumped away from Matthew, who grabbed her arm, and shoved her to the side. His loud curse drowned out her surprised squeal.

  “Get behind that tree, Addy,” he commanded loudly.

  Her head whipped around. What was happening? Their horses, which had been grazing peacefully by the trees near the pond, spooked. She stumbled as one of the animals darted past her, and ran in the direction from which they had come earlier. Matthew’s hand was on her lower back, pushing her forward until she darted behind the trees.

  “What’s happening?” she panted.

  “Run, and climb up that tree,” someone yelled. Was that a child’s voice? “It’s gonna kill you.”

  “What the hell?” Matthew lunged for the flintlock he’d dropped to the ground with the rest of their belongings, just as a young boy ran past them, heading for one of the trees.

  Faster than Della could blink, the boy reached for the nearest branch, and pulled himself up, and kept climbing. Not a second later, a large monster of an animal appeared through the tall reeds where the boy had been seconds ago. The creature slowed, then trotted past them. It stopped, and turned half way in apparent confusion.

  “Don’t move,” Matthew whispered, holding tight to Della’s arm.

  He tugged her more firmly behind the trunk of the tree, out of sight of the giant beast. Several branches cracked in the tree next to them. Della caught a glimpse of the child climbing even higher. The giant moose flared its nostrils, then trotted off along the edge of the pond until it disappeared through the tall vegetation. A small flock of birds took to the air, the only indication where the beast had gone.

  Matthew released his hold on her, and Addy breathed a sigh of relief. Above them in the tree, the boy laughed.

  “I knew I could do it,” he yelled triumphantly.

  “Lucas, where are you?” Another high-pitched voice called from where the boy and the moose had appeared moments ago.

  “I won,” the boy in the tree called. “I won the bet.” He began to climb down, jumping to the ground from a distance that was more than twice as tall as he.

  Matthew lunged forward and grabbed the boy by the arm. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  The dark-haired boy grinned broadly, rather than looking afraid or shaken up by his ordeal. Della stared at him. He could have been killed mere seconds ago.

  Another boy, older by several years, appeared through the vegetation. He looked around frantically, his chest heaving as if he’d been running for a while.

  “You owe me the knife you traded for at rendezvous the other day, Joseph,” the smaller boy said, rushing up to the older one.

  Matthew stepped forward. He looked from one boy to the other, and his eyes narrowed. “Joseph? Alex Walker’s boy?”

  “Yessir,” the youth nodded. “And that’s my brother, Lucas.” He leaned forward, and glared at the younger boy. �
�My stupid brother, Lucas.”

  “I ain’t stupid. I won the bet,” the other boy yelled, and lunged at his brother.

  “What bet,” Matthew asked, his tone low, almost threatening. He grabbed for the boy’s arm and held him back from attacking his brother.

  Della stepped up beside him. It was written all over Matthew’s face that he was getting angry. She put her hand on his arm. He shot her a hasty look before giving his attention to the boys again.

  “I told Joseph that I could outrun a moose, and he didn’t believe me. So we made a bet. He dared me to try. When we saw that bull on the other side of the pond, I shot at him with my slingshot, so he’d chase me.” The boy glared triumphantly at his brother. “And I won.”

  “I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Joseph grumbled.

  “Where’s your father?” Matthew asked in a low tone.

  Della smiled. Judging by the look on Matthew’s face, he was ready to lay the boys over his knee.

  “Our ma and pa are camped about a mile away on the other side of the pond. We’re heading home from the trapper rendezvous,” Joseph said, pointing in the direction from which they’d come. He shot an accusing look at his brother. “We were supposed to hunt rabbit.”

  Matthew frowned. “You could have been killed, you know that,” he said to the smaller boy. “A moose is more dangerous than a grizzly. You’re lucky you climbed that tree, and that moose was confused by the horses, so it didn’t stick around. You put everyone’s life in danger.”

  “He never does what he’s told,” Joseph said. “Our ma is always saying he’s going to put her in an early grave.”

  “Well, I know your ma and pa, and it’s been a few years since I’ve seen them. You two are probably too young to remember me.”

  “’Course we remember you,” Lucas Walker said cheerfully. “You’re Zach Osborne. We just saw you a while ago at rendezvous.”

  “Zach’s my brother,” Matthew said. Judging by his voice, his anger had lessened. “I think right now, we need to get you two back to your folks.”