“I’ll help you. We can live in your tepee together.”
“You will not.” With a silent stomp of her moccasined foot and a derisive snort, she went on. “I’ll make a buckskin dress instead of this foolish thing I’m wearing now.”
Her dress was the color of the Montana sky behind her. It brought out the blazing blue of her eyes. Or maybe the only blazing was caused by her temper.
“You can wear a buckskin dress if you wish. You had one when I found you. You brought it along to my house. Wear it. Or make another if you want. I’ll find you beads if you want to add them. Sturdy clothes make sense on a ranch. I’m not trying to change you, Abby. I think you’re wonderful. I wish I had half your strength.”
Her arms dropped to her sides. Her jaw went slack, too. “You do? No man should look to his woman for strength.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weak.”
“Jesus said, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’ ”
Abby narrowed her eyes. “What is this? How can strength come from weakness?”
“It’s a Bible verse. One of my favorites. You’re strong and independent, but that’s never been true of me.” Wade sighed and looked at the ground. It was hard to confess weakness to anyone, even himself. But almost impossible to do it now, to this woman. He was sure he would only deepen her contempt for him if he admitted just how weak he was.
Then he remembered her graceful arms enfolding him. That wasn’t him stealing an unwanted kiss. That was the two of them stealing a kiss that shouldn’t have been, not between two people who weren’t committed to each other and intending to marry. Wade had made that commitment. Obviously Abby wasn’t ready to admit that she had feelings for him.
“I was a bad man. I shamed myself. I failed God.” He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his pants to keep from reaching for her again then raised his head to meet her gaze. “My strongest sense of failure, not that long ago, was that I’d never had the guts to kill a man.”
“Killers are weak. There’s no strength in taking a human life. The strength comes in controlling yourself, doing right, even when it’s hard.” Abby’s pretty brow furrowed. At least she was listening.
“Thank you. I agree.”
“Unless they need killing, of course.”
Wade shook his head. He was in love with a savage. It was hard to get used to. “Before I made my peace with God, I convinced myself that all the worst things in the world were strong—drinking, fighting, lying, killing.” Wade slid his hands out of his pockets and wished he hadn’t because now he didn’t know what to do with them. He’d never felt this awkward in his life. “I lived the life of a fool because I was trying to live up to my father’s standards. He called me weak, and I did terrible things to prove I wasn’t.”
“Your father is a foolish old man.”
Nodding, Wade said, “I can feel sorry for Pa now, but that’s because I’ve found peace, and I’ve found a Source of real strength.” Wade raised his eyes to meet hers. “You know, I think it was easier for me, always drunk, obsessed with evil, to find God than it is for my father. I knew I was ruining my life. I knew I needed help. But how does a man like my pa ever admit he needs help? His whole life has been lived on pride and the strength of his will and his back.”
“Well, his back has failed him now.” Abby seemed to have forgotten wanting to kill Wade. He was thankful for that mercy. “Maybe this weakness you speak of has finally come to him. Maybe God’s strength can reveal itself with your father laid so low.”
“I keep hoping. I keep trying to be a light shining in the darkness of his life. But he’s thrown my words back at me so many times, I feel like I’m casting pearls before swine.”
“You speak in riddles.” Abby shook her head. “Light shining, pearls and pigs …”
Wade smiled. “We got off the subject.”
“What subject is that?”
“The whole reason I was glad we’d have a chance to ride together for a few hours. You say you will refuse to belong to a white man, but then what will you do?” He fell silent. Let her think for a while.
“Gertie has no ties to a man. She has a job. She belongs to no one but herself.”
“So you’ll be getting a job, then? Doing what? You can stay on at our ranch. But if you’re going to stay there and be with me every day, see to my food and wash my clothes, then you might as well…marry me.” He’d said it. Point blank.
Marry me.
His heart started thumping so hard he hoped she couldn’t hear it.
“Wade …” Abby fell silent, and she stared at him as if lost for words.
Well, that might be a good sign. “No” had come easily before. “If you can’t say yes, at least say you’ll think about it. We’ll get to know each other. I can help you hunt your deer and skin it for you to make your dresses.”
It wasn’t what Wade wanted, because, though she hadn’t said no, she was far from saying yes. But well he remembered that moments ago her clinging arms seemed to shout yes.
“Perhaps—I don’t know. It–it’s true I have no home. And we get on well together.”
“We do.” Wade didn’t mention that she’d pulled a knife on him only moments ago. He could live with an occasional outburst of mayhem if it suited Abby.
Abby stared at him as if trying to look inside his head. What was it she searched for? A warrior’s bravery? The cruelty of some of the white men she’d known? He possessed neither.
She slowly leaned forward, and Wade was so busy worrying about her refusing to even give them a chance, he didn’t realize her intent until her lips brushed against his. He resisted the urge to grab her. She pulled back and gave him a sad smile.
“What is it?”
“I’ve lost everything that mattered to me in my village. I don’t know if I can be comfortable in your world.”
“We don’t have to live in Pa’s house.” He was very close to begging, and that wasn’t showing strength. “We could set up a tepee. They’re kind of cold, but I’d live anywhere with you.”
“Tepees are easier to keep warm than a house. No one could burn enough wood to keep your father’s house comfortable.”
It was the absolute truth that Pa’s house was drafty and the floors were freezing no matter how huge the fire in the three different hearths. “We could build a snug cabin.” Wade felt such hope that he could barely speak. She was actually talking about what their lives might be like, where they might live. “Strong log walls to keep out the winter wind but small enough that a blazing fire will warm us up like toast.”
“I do like kissing you.” She didn’t sound all that happy about it. “It was so with my tribal parents. They were very affectionate with each other. And I remember my white parents kissing, too. That is an important thing for a man and wife, isn’t it?”
“Very important, Abby. Vitally important.” Wade brought his hands up to cradle her face. “May I kiss you? Will you give me permission this time?”
Abby didn’t speak.
Wade didn’t move. He’d never felt such closeness to another human being as they stood there, her nose almost touching his as he waited and waited until finally he heard the faintest of whispers.
“Yes.”
He cherished her with his lips for long moments. He had never dared hope for so much. Or rather he’d hoped, but he’d never dared believe.
When they drew apart, he watched her with hopeful eyes and felt the breeze waft past them. Aspens quaked and danced. The warmth of the sun shone like a halo off Abby’s beautiful hair. It was a beginning. She was going to give them a chance. The kissing needed to end now. It was surely the only proper thing to do.
Then her arms slipped around his neck, and Wade didn’t have a proper thought in his head.
CHAPTER 25
Honey, can we have lunch before you start stabbing the barn?” Red knew he was whining, but the woman was obsessed with that knife.
<
br /> Cassie pursed her lips and scowled at him.
Red fought a smile. He knew she liked to scare him. So he did his best to act scared and begged sweetly. “I promise we can work all afternoon on making you dangerous.”
“Red!”
“Oops, sorry, I mean even more dangerous. You’re already a real tough character, sweetheart.”
She smiled as if he’d offered her roses.
“But I’m starving after the ride home from church.”
With a little huff, she stuck her nose right up in the air as if she were put upon mightily. “Well, all right, but don’t expect me to help you with your chores.”
Covering a sigh of relief to not have Cassie risking her life in the barn, Red nodded, perhaps just a bit too frantically. “That’s fair. And with the herd culled, I don’t have that many cattle to check. I can manage without your help.”
Her eyes narrowed a little.
He gulped. “But it won’t be easy. I’ll miss the extra pair of hands.”
Cassie had come a long way helping with chores, but often as not she did the chores with Michael on her hip and Susannah clinging to her skirt. It scared Red to death to watch her try to feed Harriet—his very angry sow—with the children in hand. To be fair, she hadn’t set the barn on fire in months.
“I’ll help you get the meal on, too. I won’t leave it for you to do alone.” Red saw that sweet smile break out on her face again.
She looked like every kind of fragile there was, with her ivory skin and her endless dark hair. The roses on her cheeks might have been painted on like those on a china doll. Her brown eyes, circled by lashes as long and soft as a mink’s fur, shone with kindness. It was just the plain truth that the woman didn’t have a mean bone in her body, no matter how hard she tried to be fierce. He still thanked God a dozen times a day for the precious gift of Cassie.
They ate quickly, and the young’uns, worn out by the long ride home from Divide, went down for their naps without a whimper. Well, Susannah did a little bit of screaming, but Red could see her heart wasn’t in it. Michael fell asleep in his mashed potatoes.
They went outside to get to work. Red with chores, Cassie with stabbing the barn. Red stayed for a few nervous minutes, scared to death she’d somehow throw the knife and stab herself. But she was getting purely good. The knife stuck in the barn wall nearly half the time now, and the rest of the time it splatted against the barn and fell to the ground. He decided it was safe to do chores. Except for one little problem.
“I just can’t get the bull’s-eye, Red.” Cassie went to dislodge her knife from the barn wall, right near the ground. It always hit there. Always. “How come I can’t get more accurate?”
Red lifted his Stetson from his head and ran one hand through his unruly red hair before clamping his hat down to corral the mess. He studied the circle of charcoal on the red barn with the single black dot in the center. It was the pure undeniable truth.
Cassie had never made a single knife hole in the bull’s-eye. Red could see where Belle and Emma had stabbed it up pretty good.
“Um—have you tried aiming higher? Maybe if you aimed at the top of the circle—”
“But that’s admitting failure.” Cassie crossed her arms and pouted like Susannah did when the cookies ran out. “I want to hit what I aim at.”
Red deftly plucked the knife from her hand and pulled her into his arms. When he’d kissed all the pouting out of her, he rested his forehead against hers. “Have I told you lately how proud I am of you?”
Her eyes, which had fallen shut—as if the kiss had robbed her of her thoughts—flickered open. That warm gaze made Red feel like the richest man in Montana. And it was the truth—he was. Not a whole lot of money, but rich in the things that endured.
“Thank you. I love you, Red.”
“Aw, Cassie, honey, not half as much as I love you.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her to her toes. Then her toes must have curled, because she was all the way off the ground. The richest man in Montana swept his ten-thumbed, knife-throwing wife up into his arms.
She giggled, and he silenced her with his lips.
Red, with a herd to check and a cow to milk, chickens to rob of their eggs and a hungry, killer sow and her ten piglets to feed, enticed his beautiful, precious Cassie into following him into the hay mow and forgetting all about throwing her knife for a long, long time.
While they passed an hour together, it occurred to Red once, briefly, that he should tell Cassie a baby was most likely on the way. She was as innocent as a babe in these matters. But he knew she’d be excited. But then he lost all track of his thoughts, too, and never got her told.
Red whistled while he milked in the dark. Rosie, his black and white Holstein who’d come West with him, kicked him to punish him for being late, but despite her best efforts, Rosie couldn’t knock the smile off his face.
“We’d best have a look at that house.” Wade’s voice was hoarse as he pulled away from Abby, his wildflower.
She was acting purely tame just now.
He’d made his point with this kiss, and the few before. Well, honesty forced him to admit it had been more than a few. Abby was going to marry him. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
He had a sweet feeling the answer wasn’t going to be no.
With a grin, he slid his arm around Abby’s waist and turned to study the old Griffin place.
Abby leaned against him.
The happiness filled his heart until it barely fit in his chest.
“I don’t”—she cleared her husky throat and went on—“see any sign of life.”
Wade smiled down at her. “And if there’s someone sleeping there, just passing through, we’ll let ’em stay.”
Abby nodded then stopped cold.
He felt the tension in her body. “What is it?”
“We’ve had a jailbreak, cattle rustling, and a massacre within days of each other.”
Wade couldn’t find a single smile now. “And someone tried to kill you.”
Or you.”
“Or both of us.” Wade knew his woman well.
“And these bad men must be staying around here somewhere.”
Wade studied the obviously recently occupied house then looked at the wild woman he’d taken up with. “How good are you at sneakin’?”
The tension left Abby’s body, and she smiled and arched one brow. “I’m real good.”
“With the stand of trees around the place, we should be able to come up on it quiet, get a closer look. I don’t think anyone is there, but they may be back, so we’ll be careful.”
Nodding, Abby said, “Let’s get the horses to a place they can graze and go check that house.”
Sid stirred the cool ashes and looked sideways at Boog. “It’s time we get that gold.”
Boog grunted as he sipped the last of his coffee.
Paddy couldn’t sit still. He was on his feet, moving, twitching, pacing. “Good, good, let’s go. I’m tired of sitting.”
“We can find the gold and get back to the ranch. With me out as foreman and so many of the men fired or new, Wade doesn’t seem to realize you and Harv are gone. Why would he? He never knew you were there.”
Harv sat forward with a groan. A lazy man, Harv. Never stood when he could sit. Never walked when he could ride. Sid would be glad to get rid of his edgy, bad-tempered, do-little saddle partner.
Boog froze, so suddenly, so completely, Sid was instantly alerted.
“What?”
Boog hissed at him and slashed a hand inches from Sid’s face. No one talked or moved. Finally, Boog said, “Someone’s coming.”
Sid grabbed for his gun.
Paddy let a tiny giggle escape. His eyes shone with a hunger to shoot someone.
Sid knew of the four of them Paddy was the one who had a real appetite for murder. The rest could kill and had killed their share. They were hard men in a hard land, and Sid prided himself on being willing do to what he needed to d
o. But only Paddy smiled while he emptied his gun.
They turned to cover all approaches, guns cocked, eyes peeled, every sense alert.
CHAPTER 26
The sharp snap sounded loud as a gunshot.
Abby looked back and scowled at Wade’s clumsy foot, now square on a brittle stick. Then, on her belly on the ground in her foolish gingham dress, she continued sliding through the tall grass, hunting shadows to use like hiding places.
Thank heaven he’d let her go ahead. Abby stopped her forward progress when she caught herself falling back into that kiss. What had come over her? Why had she let Wade, a white man, hold her close and tempt her into believing she could be happy in his world?
He had let her go ahead with her sneaking, though. With a twinge of pleasure, she thought of how Wade had not only admitted she was better at sneaking; he’d admitted she was a master. She knew it chafed him to admit she was the better woodsman, but he’d done it. It filled up a strange, empty place in her heart to be respected like that.
Wild Eagle had certainly never conceded that she had skills superior to his. He had seen her ease her way up close enough to slap the children during games of hide-and-seek. When she was young, she was the best of all the children when they’d played at hunting. But older girls weren’t included in the hunts. She’d known she could help feed her family, but Wild Eagle’s pride had been too great to consider letting her come along. Instead he’d forbidden her to go along on the hunts. Ordering her to stay in the village where a woman belonged.
But truth was truth. Wade knew who was better in the woods. Now he stood there, not moving, and managed to be noisy. Abby wanted to growl at him through the knife she had clenched in her teeth. He grinned at her, apology and admiration in one sweet smile.
She looked away to keep her, attention on her sneaking. Easing forward, using swells in the ground and the waist-high prairie grass to conceal her as she inched forward.
Mary Connealy Page 77
