by Sara Orwig
Stunned, Vivian halted, immobilized by Matt’s words and the emotion in his voice. She stared at Matt as the words poured out of him. He was shaking, trying to control his temper, but when she heard him tell Baker what a man does when he loves a woman, she was riveted.
“You think of her first, Baker. You give it all up, whatever you want, if it makes her happy. You don’t take from her—you give to her.”
Warmth flooded Vivian and, momentarily, all the anguish of the past few minutes was gone. Matt’s words rang in her ears and drummed in her heart. He was pouring out his love whether he realized it or not. And he was telling Baker exactly what he—Matt—had done for her. She realized that he was letting her go out of some misguided sense that he would be holding her back if he asked her to stay.
“You give to her because she is your world and you’re nothing without her.”
“I’ve offered her a quarter of a million. What can you offer her, you hick!” Baker snapped. “You think a clod like you can hold Vivian?”
In the distance, a siren blared while Baker swung his fist. Matt dodged and got in another punch that flattened Baker again.
“You don’t hurt the woman you love. You do everything in your power to keep from hurting her!” Matt snapped, standing over Baker. “Get up, you coward. What kind of man frightens a small child?”
“Here come the police,” Vivian said quietly, thankful the authorities would stop the fight.
Baker heard the sirens and he stood, backing away from Matt and looking at Vivian. “You witch!”
Matt hit him again, sending him reeling. He came lunging back and his fist shot out, striking Matt’s jaw. Matt staggered back. gained his footing and started after Baker again, but Vivian grabbed his arm.
The sheriff’s car roared up the road, dust spinning up behind it. It braked, rocking as the sheriff and a deputy spilled out. Chet Gonzales had his gun drawn, and Baker threw up his hands.
Chet held the gun on him while the deputy cuffed him and led him to the police car. Chet came over to Matt. “Looks like he got in a punch.”
Vivian looked up to see Matt had blood running from his mouth. He was breathing hard and she saw he was as furious as she. “You must have broken every speed record known,” he said to the sheriff.
“Nope. My deputy spotted Baker and radioed and I joined him. Then we got the 911 call from Lita, which was sent through to us, but we were already on our way.”
“He was going to take Mary Catherine,” Vivian said.
“Take her with him? Kidnap her? Is she all right?” Matt asked sharply.
“Yes. Except she was frightened badly. She’s in the house with Lita.”
As Baker was led to the police car, he looked back once at Vivian. She turned her back to him.
Matt pulled out a bandanna and dabbed at the blood on his face.
“We’ll take him in and book him and see how high we can get the judge to set bail. Maybe his lawyer won’t find Dakani tonight,” Chet said.
“Thanks for getting here.”
“He goes to jail. If he gets out—and he’ll probably have the money and influence to get out before he should—just call me if he bothers you again,” Chet said, looking at Vivian.
“Thank you. I’ll go see about Mary Catherine.”
A pickup came speeding up from across Matt’s land and stopped and Pete jumped out. He ran up to them. “Lita called me.”
“She’s inside. They’ve arrested Baker, Pete.”
“Hi, Chet,” Pete said, offering his hand. As he shook he looked beyond Chet at the police car. “I hope you throw away the key,” he said, and turned to rush to the house.
“I’ll call you, Matt, and let you know what happens.”
“Thanks. Thanks again for getting here so promptly.”
“Thank you,” Vivian repeated, and turned to hurry to the house to see about Mary Catherine.
She was barely aware of Matt striding along beside her. She rushed inside to hear both babies wailing. Lita was trying to pat both of them and Mary Catherine was quietly sitting at the table with red eyes and tears streaming down her face. The instant the little girl saw her mother, she climbed down and dashed to her.
Vivian picked her up and held her tightly. Matt went to get Julia, and the moment he did, Lita picked up Patricia.
Matt left the kitchen, taking Julia to the den to walk her up and down and talk quietly to her, figuring one less crying baby in the room would help soothe the others as well as Julia.
In seconds Julia quieted and settled against his shoulder, clinging to him. He patted her and tried to stop thinking about Vivian and Mary Catherine. Both of them were white as snow and shaken. He knew Vivian was furious and Mary Catherine was terrified.
His jaw and his knuckles were sore, but that was nothing. What hurt were Baker’s words--hayseed, hick, uneducated, a clod. As he’d run from his pickup, he’d heard all of Baker’s accusations, his declarations that Vivian couldn’t ever be happy on a farm. Matt knew it was the truth, but it hurt. He was all country and he wasn’t educated like Baker probably was. Maybe he was a clod by some people’s standards, but he didn’t frighten little children. Yet he knew Baker was right—he was not the man for Vivian.
He looked at the baby in his arms and his anger and hurt diminished. Her big eyes watched him, and he was glad she didn’t have any notion what had happened this afternoon. Hopefully, she would never know.
The kitchen had grown quiet, and he decided to go see what was happening. Vivian and Mary Catherine were nowhere to be seen and Pete’s truck was driving away. Lita and Patricia were gone, so Matt assumed they had left with Pete.
He carried Julia to the bedroom looking in the open door.
“Come in,” Vivian said. She sat in the rocker with Mary Catherine in her lap. Mary Catherine held her teddy bear and her blanket and had her thumb in her mouth, and she reminded him of exactly how she had looked and acted that first afternoon.
“I thought I’d put Julia down. She’s one second away from sleep.” He placed her in her tiny bed and he turned to go to Vivian and Mary Catherine. Leaning down, he brushed a kiss on Mary Catherine’s forehead. She reached up to slip her arm around his neck and give him a hug.
Looking into Vivian’s wide, blue eyes, he hugged them both. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” he said quietly to Vivian.
After Mary Catherine fell asleep, Vivian showered, trying to wash away dust, memories, shock. Everything but one memory. Matt’s words to Baker on when a man loves a woman. How the words had tumbled out of him! Words that said so much more than just lecturing Baker.
What have you done to help her or make her happy or win her love? When a man loves a woman, this is not how he treats her!
Matt loved her. He could never have said those words if he didn’t! In spite of the terror and anger she had felt all afternoon since hearing Mary Catherine’s first cry, jubilation danced in her. She laughed under the shower, joy spilling over. Matt Whitewolf was in love with her. If he wasn’t, he couldn’t have made that speech.
His fury had made him open his heart and let his feelings pour out. If that had happened once, it would happen again. Now that he had faced up to his feelings and put them into words, how long would it take before he came to her with them?
“Matt loves me!” she said aloud, knowing the words would be washed away by the noise of the shower. “He loves me.”
All the ugliness of the afternoon dimmed and faded while the one good thing glowed brightly as she clung to it, examining it over and over like a precious gemstone that was a new gift.
Now she knew she had made the right choice in moving to Oklahoma City, close enough they would date. Matt would open up his heart again. He had today; it shouldn’t be so difficult the next time.
Couldn’t he see, if he made declarations like that, that he was in love? Why did he fight it so?
Was it old feelings of inadequacy? Or his fear that she needed a city, life? You think of her first, Baker. Yo
u give it all up, whatever you want, if it makes her happy.
Was that what he was doing? Holding back from declaring his love to do what he thought would make her happy?
She turned off the water and toweled off and a dark cloud came. She remembered Baker’s harsh words—clod, hick, hayseed. Baker had said some of those cruel words to Matt’s face, but had he heard the other names Baker had called him? She paused, trying to remember how soon Matt had appeared.
It didn’t matter. Baker had flung enough names at him to hurt him. Only Matt wasn’t a clod or a hick or a hayseed. He was generous and brave and intelligent—far more a man than Baker, who was cruel and selfish. She prayed Matt didn’t give credence to anything Baker said.
That night they were quiet through supper. Afterward, Mary Catherine rode Molasses and then wanted Matt to read a bedtime story.
After the story he carried Mary Catherine to bed and tucked her in. “Good night, sweet dreams, sweet baby,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She hugged his neck.
“I love you,” she said quietly, and hot tears stung his eyes.
He straightened up, running his hand swiftly across his eyes, and turned to find Vivian watching him. She looked away and stood by the door as if waiting for him to go.
He crossed the room and at the door she looked up at him. “I told her I would lie down with her tonight when she goes to sleep.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s frightened.”
He nodded, disappointed that Vivian wouldn’t be out to sit on the porch because tomorrow she would be gone. Yet he understood and prayed that Mary Catherine didn’t have bad dreams.
Saturday was moving day. Mary Catherine spent the morning crying because she didn’t want to go, and Vivian was having a difficult time with her own emotions. Julia was fussy, and at first Vivian thought it was all the turmoil going on around her, but when she realized the baby had a fever, all thought of moving that day was canceled.
Matt was worried as they watched Julia’s fever climb and he talked to Walt Bently several times.
At ten o’clock, Vivian found Matt in the kitchen. She carried Julia in her arms. “Matt, Walt Bently said to bring her in if her temperature went higher, and it has. I think I better take her to town.”
Chapter 18
He stood and picked up his car keys, jamming them into his pocket. “I’ll carry Mary Catherine.”
“Don’t wake her. I’ll drive Julia to the hospital. Walt Bently said he would meet us there.”
“I don’t want you to drive by yourself.”
“I can do that,” she said, giving him a look. “I don’t want to wake Mary Catherine. And she doesn’t need to spend the night in the hospital waiting room.”
“I’ll get one of the men to drive you,” Matt said, striding to the phone to call and ask for Royce Gunther.
Knowing it was useless to argue, Vivian went to get her purse.
It was almost two hours later when Matt heard from Vivian. “Matt, Julia has strep throat and they think we should stay here tonight so they can watch her. I sent Royce back. He said he would come get us tomorrow if they let us leave. You’ll have to take care of Mary Catherine.”
“Fine, Vivian. Do you want us to come to the hospital tonight?”
“No. Julia is sleeping now. I’ll call you in the morning, and if Mary Catherine wants to talk to me, we’re in room three twenty-nine.”
He scribbled the room number. “Take care. I miss you,” he said, and heard her break the connection. He didn’t want to go to bed, afraid Mary Catherine would wake and call for her mommy and be frightened, so he got his magazine and went to their room. Turning on a small lamp, he sat with his feet propped on the bed, the magazine forgotten in his lap while he studied Mary Catherine.
For the first time, the enormity of Vivian’s trust hit him. She had left Mary Catherine in his care. He was overwhelmed, his emotions undergoing an upheaval. He was always country around Vivian—too simple for her style of life. Had he sold himself short?
He thought how she had fit into living on the farm. One week had stretched into another, and never once had she seemed bored or restless or eager to go. Far from it.
He moved restlessly, standing and going down the hall. Vivian had changed from moving to Houston to Oklahoma City to be nearer to him; she had trusted Mary Catherine to him. Vivian and her girls had become family to him.
He walked outside and stood in the quiet yard, looking up at the night sky. Millions of stars twinkled against the blackness. Clear and beautiful, a silvery moon bathed the land in its rays. Peaceful and beautiful, sometimes the land got into a person and became part of them. Vivian and her girls had fit in here as if they had grown up on a farm.
His pulse jumped. Vivian was an independent, intelligent woman. Let her make the choice. He had been making it for her, assuming she wouldn’t want this life. But if she loved him just half as much as he loved her—
Excitement gripped him. It was time he took the risk and told Vivian he loved her.
“Vivian, come home.” He prayed Julia’s fever would come down and they would come home soon. He wanted them home, wanted Vivian in his arms. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, and ask her to marry him.
Sunday he fed and dressed Mary Catherine while Royce picked up Vivian and Julia. Julia was on antibiotics, and Vivian wanted to keep her away from Mary Catherine as much as possible until she was better.
Matt met them in the yard, and as soon as Mary Catherine had hugged and talked to her mommy, he took her with him in his pickup, promising Vivian he would keep her with him during the day so she wouldn’t be exposed to germs.
He did the same Monday, and by Tuesday, Mary Catherine was trailing after him like a shadow. By that time, Julia was improving, but still not well.
It was a week later when the household returned to normal and Vivian seemed rested. Saturday night, falling into their old habits, she sat on the porch with Matt. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, the same as Matt. A cool breeze played over the porch and she turned to him.
“Matt, for one reason or another, I’ve been here all summer. Every time I get ready to go, something happens. Julia’s birth, my car, my six-week checkup, your brothers coming, the hunt for an apartment, Julia’s illness. Labor Day is coming up, and here I am.”
He stood and leaned down to pick her up, moving her to his lap. “I’m glad,” he said in a husky voice, and Vivian’s pulse jumped. She was tingly, too aware of him, wanting him badly. She sat facing him, running her fingers along his jaw.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you, but because of Julia being sick, I had to wait.”
“What is it?” she asked, looking at his solemn expression. Matt stroked her nape and she relished the streaks of fire his touch elicited.
“When you left Mary Catherine with me, I realized how much you trusted me,” Matt said.
“Of course I trusted you,” she said, and desire flashed hotly in her. She leaned forward to kiss him and he returned her kiss for a moment, then he pushed her back and framed her face with his hands. “I love you, Vivian. Will you marry me?”
The words dazzled her and there was a second when she couldn’t get her breath, and then she flung her arms around his neck. “Yes! Oh my, yes! I thought you’d never ask, Matt Whitewolf!”
He wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed her hard, his heart pounding with joy and excitement. He raised his head and held her face in his large hands while his dark eyes probed and searched. “Are you sure? Life on a farm? Here with me?”
“I am absolutely sure,” she said.
“Aah, Vivian. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy,” he said, feeling as if he would burst with joy. “My girls, you, Mary Cat and Julia. I can’t believe my blessings.”
“You better believe it, cowboy. We came to stay.”
He leaned down to kiss her and words were lost.
Vivian clung to him, her heart pounding with joy. Her cowboy—her home, her heart. This time i
t would be right.
Epilogue
The last Saturday in September, Vivian and Matt exchanged vows and then returned to the farm for a reception. Matt’s grandparents, his brothers and their families, the men who worked for him, plus friends in two counties were present. Lita and Pete, home from their honeymoon, were staying in the house and keeping the girls While Matt and Vivian left on a week-long honeymoon.
In a tailored blue dress, Vivian milled around the house and porch, talking to guests, barely knowing what she was saying because of her excitement. Matt looked incredibly handsome in a dark tux and new black boots. He had his hair fastened with a strip of rawhide behind his head while hers was looped and pinned on top of her head.
Mary Catherine was dressed in a frilly pink dress and she looked happy with her new cousins.
Jared came over to give Vivian a kiss on the cheek. “Well, you did it, Vivian. Come here, Matt,” he said, calling to his brother. “Here’s a toast,” he said, raising his glass and his voice, his words carrying over the noise of the crowd. “I propose a toast to the beautiful woman who finally lassoed brother Matt, hog-tied him and got him to the altar.”
The women laughed and glasses clinked while the men whistled and cheered. As Vivian looked into Matt’s dark gaze, her pulse jumped and she wanted to be alone with him.
She sipped the bubbly champagne and smiled at Wyatt, who had moved beside her and Matt.
“Matt, what’s the latest news about Baker?” Wyatt asked. “The guy has the money to hire the best lawyers and he has no prior record, so he could walk on those charges,”, he said, looking back and forth between Vivian and Matt.
Relieved to finally be free of Baker, Vivian met Matt’s gaze while she answered Wyatt. “Baker wanted me back to save face. The charges against him have been made public and his reputation is shredded. He couldn’t convince anyone now that I would come back to him. He’s out of our lives forever,” she said, unable to tear her gaze from Matt’s.
