Four Weddings and a Kiss

by Margaret Brownley

  It was a vow he made to the Lord. And maybe, in the process, he’d get some relief down deep in the dark corners of his heart where regret had eaten a hole clean through him.

  “Are you okay?”

  Treb’s gentle voice penetrated Katie’s sleep-fogged brain. She stirred in his arms, lifting her head. She found herself staring up into his concerned gray eyes. He looked terrible.

  His hat was gone, his hair was plastered to his face, and his eyes were bleary from lack of sleep. She knew she looked no better.

  Her heart tugged tight in her chest. She nodded. “Thank you,” she managed, touching his face for just an instant. She was unable to believe how tender he’d been holding her during the storm, but right now she needed to move away from him, out of his strong arms. Her knees were stiff and her legs wobbly as she stood. He held her elbow and supported her as she straightened. And then he stood up too. He didn’t say it, but she could see that he was even stiffer than she was.

  “We’re an awful sight,” she said, feeling the heat of a blush spreading across her skin.

  He grinned. “I’d have to agree with you on that, but I’m afraid you might haul off and kick me again.”

  She gasped, realizing she had kicked him last night! And jabbed him hard in the ribs too. “I’m so sorry. I just lost it.”

  His smile faded. “It’s all right, Katie. After what you’ve been through it’s understandable. I wouldn’t have tried to get you in the barn if I had really thought about how something like that could affect a person.”

  Turning away, she wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged herself tight. Wishing she could hold off the truth but knowing now that she couldn’t. Her shoulders slumped. “What they say about me is true.”

  Treb’s hand on her shoulder turned her back to face him. “No, it’s not. It’s no wonder going inside a building terrifies you. Or that you talk to yourself sometimes. Time will help heal this problem.”

  His words hurt deep down inside. Hurt in a way she didn’t understand—it was a good hurt. A dangerous hurt, knowing he believed in her.

  “I am afraid,” she admitted, “but I aim to fix it.” She looked down at the ground, then back up to meet his watchful, kind eyes. Even all mushed and tired she decided the man was about as good to look at as a sunrise on a clear morning. “I’m very obliged to you for what you did last night. My pa would shake your hand, Treb Rayburn. And Pa didn’t shake just anyone’s hand.”

  Katie glanced at a patch of muddy grass to the side and noticed Treb’s hat turned upside down in it. She walked over and picked it up, then went back and handed it to him. “Thank you,” she said, again needing some space to think. She spun and headed back across the field toward the remains of the buildings. Her still-wet dress slapped against her legs, and her shoes made squishing noises as she trod through the mud. The sun was rising slowly in the sky, burning off the morning dew. The sunlight was wonderful to see, its rays warm on her clammy, damp skin. But when all the mud caked to her dress and her skin dried, her nasty predicament was only going to feel worse. Turning around she saw Treb walking at a much slower pace behind her. His soaked clothing looked worse than hers—still her heart squeezed looking at him. She’d hired a safe bet—a rambler who had no intentions of sticking around when the work was done. He was perfect for this job. Safe.

  But last night, snug in Treb’s strong arms, things had become complicated. He’d cradled her with such care . . .

  Safe bet, ha! He’d come into the awful storm and sat smack down in the middle of a puddle of water and just held her tight. Held her all through the night, trying to protect her from the elements because he’d seen how hysterical being inside made her.

  And being in the dark too.

  The man had downright messed up her plans.

  A girl had to fight holding back feelings for a man who would do that for her.

  But she’d been too fearful to fight it. She’d needed what he offered.

  Of course she would have made it, with no other choice.

  Yet she couldn’t bring herself to think of what the morning would have been like after the storm if he hadn’t been there. She remembered how it was when they pulled her out of her grave.

  She swallowed hard as the memory of screaming and whimpering like a hurt animal rushed at her like the wind. She’d been dirty and bruised and wild. Like last night in the storm.

  “I’m going to the stream to clean up,” she said, shaking off the memory, glad to have an excuse to be alone, to get away from what was eating at her. “When I’m finished, I’ll show you the way.” Changing directions she hurried toward the stand of trees off to the side of her homestead. She wished being normal again would be as easy as washing the mud off of her. But she knew that wasn’t how it was. Treb might tell her she wasn’t crazy, but she knew it wasn’t that simple.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  Treb looked up from planting a post in the hole he’d just finished digging. The sun was out as if there had never been a storm in the night. It was a scorcher even though it was only midmorning. Steam had risen from the ground as the water evaporated causing his wet, mud-caked clothes to dry stiff and scratch against his skin. Katie, on the other hand, had been gone so long he’d begun to worry. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. She’d been so fragile. So alone. So small in his arms. And when she’d looked up at him as he held her, he knew he would have walked through fire to help her.

  Now, here she stood with her dress freshly washed and sun-dried, and her cheeks shone with the glow of having been scrubbed. Her deep brown hair glistened like mahogany in the sunlight, hanging loose around her face and shoulders. She was holding her hat and without it she looked extremely feminine. Her eyes sparkled despite the weariness he saw in them.

  He swallowed hard as realization struck . . . Katie Pearl was beautiful.

  His gut suddenly felt as if a family of grasshoppers had been cut loose inside it. “I’m making you a shelter. No more need for you to be caught out in the weather again.” He’d spent the night holding her, listening to her mumble to herself when she’d fallen asleep in his arms. The woman had been so worn out that she’d slept through a blasting thunder and lightning display like he hadn’t seen in ages. Only by the grace of God had they not been struck down sitting where they were. But somewhere in the middle of all that, Katie Pearl had closed her eyes against his heart and slept.

  It was a disturbing thing to a man who didn’t want connections. And he recognized this powerful, protective instinct as the dangerous kind, the kind that had the power to undo him. When she didn’t say anything more, he met her wide gaze—not happy with what she was doing to him.

  “Now, Katie, don’t be lookin’ at me with those big eyes of yours. I’ll just attach some old wagon tarps I found in the barn to the top and sides of these poles. You’ll have nothing but cloth over your head and daylight on two sides. Or all sides if you want. You can tie the sides to the poles, but if a storm blows in, you can at least keep dry.”

  “I—well,” she stammered, studying the other poles with interest, “it might help. I can try it at least.”

  Good. She wasn’t as stubborn as he thought she’d be. “I figure if there isn’t a heavy roof above you that could cave in, it will be a step forward. Progress, you know.”

  She clasped her hands together and a smile spread across her face. He sure liked her smiles.

  “Progress. That’s just what my pa used to say. I like the sound of that, Treb Rayburn.”

  “Good,” he grunted and went back to work, trying hard not to let those eyes or that smile wheedle their way any deeper. Nope, this shelter would help keep her firmly away from any more chances of him having to hold her close.

  “The water’s good if you want to wash that caked mud off of you.” She pointed toward the creek, then headed over and stood with her hands on her hips as she stared at the barn. “It gets all-fired irritating that I can’t go i
nside a building.” She spun toward him. “And when I get to talking to myself . . . You’re as loony as they say, Katie Pearl.” She mumbled the last words under her breath. Pure disgust directed at herself.

  He threw the spade to the ground. “No, you’re not. And I wish one of them name-calling old biddies would come call you that while I’m standing beside you. I’d let them have it. Now, stop spouting that nonsense and help me attach these tarps.”

  She scowled at him and that was just fine. It suited him in fact, much better than when she smiled at him. He didn’t need her smiling at him anymore. No, sir, he did not.

  “Don’t you give me orders! I’m still your boss, and I was thinking I was hungry and thought you might be too since we haven’t had breakfast. But my supplies are inside the barn.”

  Stalking inside the barn, he grabbed a pouch of beef jerky, strode back out, and shoved it at her. “This should do us till we get some work done.”

  He figured the madder he made her, the safer he’d be. He planned to see New Orleans down in Louisiana and the Gulf before the winter hit. He had a whole list of places he was going to visit before he settled down, and the sooner he got Katie’s life in order, the sooner he could ride out. His clothes were stiff and scratchin’ his hide raw, and his insides were feeling just as raw every time she looked at him with that lost-little-girl look.

  Keeping her mad at him and out of his arms seemed the safest way of getting back on the trail and making tracks.

  Her blue eyes froze over and hit him with an icy blast. Perfect. Good. Couldn’t be better.

  “It’s no wonder your horse up and died on you, you ill-tempered hunk of flesh.” Jabbing her nose in the air, she strode past him and headed toward the pile of rubble that used to be her home. There she sat on a section of flooring that had remained intact. He watched her grudgingly pull a piece of jerky from the sack to chew on as she studied the disaster.

  She needed to see progress and she needed to see it now.

  With a grunt of irritation at himself, Treb went back to work. Katie would have shelter before nightfall, and that was a fact.

  Katie felt helpless enough, and she hated the feeling. She did not need Treb making her feel worse!

  The man was infuriating. He was ornery, pushy, and arrogant.

  Chomping on a tough piece of jerky, she watched Treb working on the structure that would keep the rain off of her and give her some shield against the night. Truth was she was grateful. She really, really was. But he was treating her like she was helpless, and it didn’t sit well—not since she was fighting against giving in to it with everything she had.

  Resentment settled over her like the stink of soured milk. Watching him, she knew exactly what it was. He’d walked out in that storm and held her, protected her, and shielded her with his body. She’d slept. She’d actually drifted off to sleep during the awful storm with the steady sound of his heart beating in her ear, giving her comfort.

  She hadn’t felt comforted in so long. But now he was taking over. And she didn’t like it. It made her feel even more helpless than she already did, and that made her mad. Chewing on the jerky, she watched the man work. The muscles in his arms bunching with each movement reminded her that those arms had made her feel safe. She shoved the thought aside. It did no good sitting there daydreaming about falling in love with a practical stranger. He was going to be leaving before the summer was over, so the very idea of such a fanciful thought irritated her even more.

  “You better get up and get busy, or before you know it you’ll be beggin’ this man to stay,” she growled. “That’s what you think.”

  Jumping up, she decided she needed to take charge. She was sleeping in the shelter tonight, and she was sleeping on something other than the ground. Surveying the ruins, she saw a section of wall that would work just perfect. Stomping over to it, she wrestled the piece from the other wreckage. It was wider and taller than she was, but not overly big. Dragging it toward Treb, she dropped it in her tracks, then went back for some planks. This would soon be her bed. Raised about four inches from the ground, it would ensure that her bedroll wouldn’t get wet if it rained again. Feeling much better about herself, she marched over, and with just a small hesitation, she stepped beneath the canvas canopy.

  Her heart pounded but the space was no more threatening than a porch overhang, and she could handle that. Still, pride flooded through her. She’d made a step forward.

  “Good for you, Katie,” Treb said. His gentle words of encouragement flowed over her and eased the anger she’d felt toward him. “It’s a beginning.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I still don’t understand why no one from town has come out to help you clean up some of this wreckage.”

  Katie placed her hands on her hips, her fingers tapping on her hip bones. “After they pulled me out from under the house, I guess I was a little upset. I might have screamed at them and maybe waved a pitchfork around a little. When I found my gun . . . they scattered.”

  Treb was speechless, but she couldn’t read his face.

  “The townsfolk didn’t come back after that. But then the fellas started coming around trying to court me, wanting my land, so I started shooting. They all stopped coming around after that. Better that way.”

  “Katie, you have got to stop waving that gun around. You could have friends in town who would come out here if you’d just holster that thing.”

  “They call me crazy. Why would I want their help?”

  He raked a hand over his face. “I guess I see your point. Only, if you would stop shooting at people, then they wouldn’t call you names.”

  “Ha, why would I want that? If it wasn’t for me bein’ crazy, I’d have more men than a dog has fleas out here trying to latch on to me for my ranch. Besides, I hired you and you’re doing just fine.” It was true, he was doing fine . . . when he wasn’t making her mad.

  It hit her again, looking at him, that soon he would be gone and she would be all alone once more. Her head started pounding just thinking about it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TREB WONDERED WHAT KATIE HAD BEEN LIKE BEFORE the tornado. A week after hiring Treb, she seemed less skittish than she had been. They had worked side by side clearing the house and sifting through the materials, determining what was usable and what was useless. There had been times when he’d known it was hard on Katie digging through the leftovers of her life before the tornado. She’d grow quiet, her work would slow, and then he’d hear her talking to herself. It was as if talking to herself comforted her. And sometimes he’d watch her sit up on the hill by her pa’s grave. When she’d come back, he could see she’d been crying. Treb always pretended he didn’t notice this and he said nothing. What was he supposed to say anyway?

  He didn’t know how to comfort someone. He’d tried the night of the storm—he thought of that night often. Of holding Katie in his arms and of her sleeping soundly with her cheek against his heart. Sometimes he’d find himself thinking about what it would be like to settle down with a good woman and build a life.

  And then he’d shake off the thought and get back to work. His mother had always longed to see the world. She’d talked of it often and told him of the places she’d seen and the places she longed to see. After moving from the East and heading west on a wagon train, she’d fallen in love with Treb’s dad and ended up marrying and having two babies quickly thereafter. His father had been a farmer who just wanted to work the land and put down roots. He’d been a good man, but he hadn’t ever understood his wife’s desire to see more of the world. It had put a wedge between them, and his mother had buried her longing within her. But Treb had understood it—he also understood how marriage affected dreams.

  Tonight was a beautiful night. The stars were sparkling radiantly against a pitch-black sky. Treb lay on his bedroll with his arms behind his head staring up at it. A lonesomeness for his family took hold of him, and he wished they were alive here beside him. He let his gaze fall to Katie. She was qu
iet in her tent. She’d been that way all afternoon.

  “Tell me about some of the places you’ve seen,” she said, startling him, as if she’d been reading his mind.

  Shaking off the melancholy memories and always glad to talk about his adventures, he sat up. “Well, let’s see, I think you’d like the Grand Canyon. It’s out in Arizona Territory. It’s as big and vast as anything I’ve ever seen, and more stunning than anything I could have ever dreamed of.”

  “I’ve heard of it. I heard it’s so deep you can’t hardly see the streams down at the bottom.”

  “That’s true. From the rim of the canyon, the big Colorado River looks like a pretty ribbon you could tie your hair up with, that’s how far down it is snaking through the gorge. And the colors . . . Katie, you haven’t ever seen so many colors in a rock face. Reds, oranges, browns, and creams. Even golds. It’s like God took the sunset and laid it down on the rock face that He cut out of the earth. The rock formations are huge and the drop-offs of the cliffs aren’t for the faint of heart. But you can stand on the rim and watch the eagles soar out over the canyon that stretches as far as the eye can see. It’ll make you believe in the Lord like nothing else could.” It was true. He and the Lord had regained footing there on that rim after he’d lost his family. It had been rough, though, with all the guilt and bitterness Treb had felt for himself and the Lord.

  “It sounds amazing,” Katie murmured, placing her hands beneath her chin. She studied the fire. “Do you have any family, Treb? Anyone you left behind when you headed out to see the world?”

  Was she reading his thoughts? He shifted uncomfortably in his bedroll. “Nope. No family—living.”

  “What happened to them? Did you lose them like I lost my pa?”

  His heart ached and his gaze shifted to the fire flickering between them. “I lost them. But it was a long time ago.” Talking about this was too hard. He needed to change the subject. “What about your mother?” he asked. “What happened to her?”