by Carol Finch
He nodded his head. “Yes, you did, and technically I didn’t renege. You said, and I quote, ‘If anything happens to me, see that Hanna is on the westbound stage.”’
“Well, something did happen to me,” Cale all but shouted in frustration. “I got the hell beaten out of me and I got shot twice last night!”
A wry grin pursed Arliss’s lips and his hazel eyes twinkled. “Actually, it wasn’t last night. It was six days ago.”
“Six!” Cale erupted in disbelief. “I slept six days away?”
“Well yes, with the aid of the laudanum Hanna poured down your throat to make sure you stayed in bed long enough to recuperate. She also shaved and bathed you regularly and changed your bandages.”
Cale muttered under his breath. His wife, Mrs. Defiance Personified, hadn’t boarded the stage to chase her dreams. She’d sneaked in to sedate him the same way he’d sedated Pryor’s guards. He’d created a monster when he’d taught Hanna the tricks of his trade.
“And where is my dear wife now?” Cale demanded grouchily.
Arliss scratched his chin and his lips quirked. “Can’t say for certain.”
“You’re the new marshal. You’re supposed to keep track of what’s going on around here. If Hanna’s father refused—”
Arliss waved his hand for silence. “No need to fret about Malloy. Last I noticed, Hanna had him marching to the beat of her drum.”
“And where, I’d like to know, is she presently beating her new drum?” he asked irritably.
“Well, Rip van Winkle—”
“Never heard of him,” Cale growled impatiently.
“Rip is a fictitious character who falls asleep for twenty years and wakes up to find that the world has changed,” Arliss supplied helpfully.
Cale’s gaze narrowed sourly. Arliss’s cheery attitude was wasted on him. “And what has changed so drastically around here while I was drugged?”
Arliss ticked off the changes on his fingers. “First off, I’m marshal, as I mentioned. Second, Julius and Pierce recently returned from purchasing a cattle herd for Hanna.”
Cale’s jaw sagged on its hinges. “Hanna has decided to become a cattle baroness?”
“Uh-huh. Third, she’s purchased Pryor’s ranch and is keeping the gun shop. She hired an attendant, a young man desperately in need of work to support his pregnant wife. Hanna rented the living quarters above the shop to them.”
Arliss stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Let’s see, what else has she been up to? Oh yes, she appointed Mrs. Hensley as president of the Cromwell Beautification Club and ordered scads of flowers to decorate the boardwalks and town square. Plus she got her father to donate funds to improve the school.”
“Why?” Cale asked incredulously.
“Because she’s settling down here and she wants to take an active role in improving our community.”
Cale was dumbfounded. Why had Hanna decided to put down roots here when her dream had been to venture west and see all there was to see and experience all that life offered?
“Oh yes, and you’ll be relieved to know that Skeet is feeling much better, too,” Arliss reported. “Hanna sedated him so he wouldn’t be following her around like a devoted guard dog.”
Hearing footsteps in the hall, Cale glanced toward the door. He nodded a curt greeting when Pierce and Julius trooped inside.
“Well, you look a damn sight better than the last time I saw you, Big Chief,” Julius said, grinning. “Thought you might need assistance getting out to the ranch to settle in.”
Puzzled, Cale stared at the rugged-looking deputy marshal. “Who said anything about settling in at the ranch?”
“We just assumed,” Pierce commented. “After all, that’s where your wife is.”
“You assumed wrong. I’m headed for Fort Smith, as soon as I collect my horse, my dog and my gear.”
Julius stared owl-eyed at him. “What?”
“You heard me.” Cale set aside the empty tray and tested his legs. Good. They were functioning better than the last time he’d stood up on them.
“Well, I think I speak for everyone here when I say are you out of your mind?” Julius cried. “You love Hanna and she loves you. You’ve done your duty for Parker for years. It’s time to get on with your life.”
“That is my life,” Cale countered. “It’s what I do.”
His colleagues didn’t understand, Cale mused as he awkwardly pulled on his boots and tried not to strain his arm and ribs. Hanna had needed him to guide and tutor her, but now that she’d come into her own she didn’t need to be hampered by the stigma that would always be attached to him. Sooner or later the folks in town would find out who and what he was and would avoid association with him. Besides, if he were out of the picture, some well-deserving gentleman would come along to catch Hanna’s eye. Eventually she’d remarry. Cale was just a passing phase of her life, that was all.
“Well, are you at least going to tell her goodbye before you ride off?” Pierce asked.
“I already did. Last night…er, six nights ago,” he corrected.
Julius stared him down. “Damn it, man, don’t you realize what you’re giving up?”
Of course he realized. He loved Hanna. He would always love her. And he’d always be a half-breed who’d been made to feel less than human, unacceptable and unworthy of respect in society. His only saving grace was that he was handy with firearms, knives and his fists. He could fight battles that other folks weren’t capable of fighting for themselves. He’d been trained as a warrior whose only value and contribution to society was to clean up a territory where criminals ran rampant.
And what Julius said about Hanna loving him wasn’t true. Sure, she’d suffered a severe case of hero worship as she tried to emulate his survival skills. She was also grateful that he’d made it possible for her to escape her father’s control. And, of course, she’d gotten caught up in the newness of passion that flared between them. But all that didn’t add up to love. Not the kind he felt for her, leastwise, and he couldn’t settle for less, loving her the way he did.
Besides, if she really loved him, she would’ve said so, because she was an honest woman who meant what she said. And she hadn’t said she loved him. Well, except for that one time that she’d been so overcome with delight when she’d discovered her aptitude for weapons. But that was just a turn of a phrase and she hadn’t meant it in the literal sense.
Cale jerked to attention when the door banged open and Walter Malloy barged in uninvited and unannounced. “Leave now,” he said, dismissing the other three men in the room. “I want to talk to Elliot alone.”
When the men filed out, Walter peeled several large banknotes from the roll in his fist and tossed them on the bed.
Cale glared at his father-in-law. “The answer is still no way in hell, Malloy,” he growled. “I intend to stay married to Hanna as long as she wishes it. There isn’t enough money in the Federal Treasury to buy me off so stop wasting my time.”
Walter waved him off with an expansive gesture. “Forget the divorce. I’m fine with the marriage.”
Cale’s mouth dropped open wide enough for a pigeon to roost. “Why? Since when?”
“Since when? Since a few days ago. Why? Because of your legendary reputation in these parts. It provides my daughter with protection. Folks realize that if they mess with Hanna they’ll have to answer to you. Your name is chaperon enough.”
Bumfuzzled, Cale stared at the offered money, then at Malloy. “What is it you want that you’re willing to pay extravagantly to obtain?” he asked suspiciously.
“A grandchild,” Malloy announced, shocking Cale speechless. “I bungled my attempts to raise Hanna and I want the chance to redeem myself. In addition, I have accumulated a fortune and I intend to see it passed down to another heir.”
“You want to hire me to—” Cale felt his throat close up. Malloy had managed to take him by complete surprise.
“Exactly,” the shipping magnate said in a businesslike tone. �
�You are Hanna’s lawfully wedded husband, after all. It’s your duty to provide me with a grandchild. I’m not getting any younger, you know, and I want you to hurry up about it.”
“But I’m half—”
Malloy cut him off with an impatient flick of his wrist. “I’ve decided it’s of no consequence to my future grandson. He’ll be a quarter Cherokee, a quarter French and half mixed-heritage American. I’ve decided that’s not a bad lineage and it will provide him with plenty of important social connections. Besides, the boy will be so disgustingly wealthy that no one would dare offend him. Well?”
“Malloy,” Cale said when he finally recovered his powers of speech, “you’re an arrogant, high-handed ass.”
“Call the pot black, why don’t you?” he retaliated sarcastically. “My daughter loves you.”
So everyone kept trying to convince him, Cale mused. He still thought it was wishful thinking and an attempt at matchmaking.
“Though why she thinks she loves you is completely beyond me. It’s not that she’s desperate,” Walter continued. “After all, she could have any man she wants. You’re offensive and plain spoken—”
“Now who’s calling the kettle black?” Cale interrupted just as sarcastically.
“Fine, we’re both asses, but if you don’t have enough sense to ride out to Hanna’s ranch, a place she purchased just to keep herself occupied so she won’t miss you when you leave, then maybe I should club you over the head myself!” Malloy bellowed. “You wrung the truth out of me when you tossed that blasted locket at me. I’ve been lonely and miserable for years and took it out on my own child. Now, do you love my daughter or not? And, damn it, don’t you dare lie to me, Elliot.”
Cale heaved an audible sigh, looked Malloy straight in the eye and said, “Yeah, I do, whether that’s the best thing for her or not.”
“Well, at least we agree on something.” Malloy’s arm shot toward the door. “But regardless, I want you to get out there and tell her how you feel or you’ll end up just like me. I lost the love of my life and mourned for years. If I had it to do over again I wouldn’t waste a single minute of a single day that I could have spent with Clarissa,” he said earnestly. “If you love Hanna, then surely you have the courage to tell her so. You seem to have the gumption to do everything else!”
Cale wasn’t so sure it was the right thing to do, and doubted Malloy fully understood the dynamics of the relationship. But maybe the man was right. Maybe Cale did owe himself a chance to chase the forbidden dream of loving and being loved in return.
Malloy opened the door. “Now, go!”
Cale strode down the hall, feeling more uncertain and unsure of himself than he ever had in his life. He’d never said those three words to anyone before, and the thought of laying his heart on the line made him feel like he was walking into a gun battle without a weapon.
Hanna loved him? Cale still couldn’t make himself believe that, but he reckoned he’d just have to ride out to the ranch and find out for himself.
Hanna’s gaze shifted from the three teenage boys she’d hired to erect a picket fence around the house to the lone rider who topped the rise and began his descent into the valley.
Cale…Her heart stalled in her chest and then hammered furiously against her ribs. He reminded her of a magnificent centaur, moving in perfect rhythm with his horse. His white linen shirt was a sharp contrast to his bronzed features. His black breeches clung to his muscular thighs, and staring at him took her breath away. She felt a stab of intense longing that went straight to her heart.
She’d have to guard her feelings carefully and restrain her instinctive responses when she confronted him, she warned herself. She couldn’t let him know that she was slowly dying inside because he couldn’t return her love.
There had been a time not so long ago Hanna had discarded all inhibition and simply been herself around him. But now there were too many conflicting emotions roiling inside her, and untangling them was impossible. She’d just have to guard her tongue and treat him as no more than a friend, not the lover she wanted to keep for the rest of her life.
Of course, Hanna doubted this was a friendly visit. More than likely Cale was riding out to rake her over the coals for sedating him. But she’d done it for his own good. Now he had the strength and stamina to race off to testify at Pryor’s trial in Fort Smith.
She also recalled that the last thing Cale had said to her was “Board the stage and find your dreams.” She’d defied his command, of course. She was a woman of independent means now and she’d acquired the self-confidence to stand up for what she wanted.
Hanna stood her ground when Cale rode up to her, then stared her down. She studied him pensively, then said, “You look much better. Well rested.”
“Better be,” he replied as he dismounted. “Somebody knocked me out with laudanum for six days and took control of my life without my permission or consent.”
She hadn’t thought he’d take it well.
He cut her a quick glance, then watched the boys hammer the picket boards on the new fence. “I guess that’s how you felt when your father tried to tell you what to do and when you should do it. No wonder you rebelled, Magnolia. It’s damn frustrating to be at someone else’s mercy.”
“Yes, it is,” she agreed. “But after seeing you wobbling around, wounded and bleeding all over yourself, I decided you needed mandatory rest. So…” She shrugged, then glanced away, hesitant to meet his gaze for more than a moment. “Did you come to say goodbye?” If you did then please make it quick and painless. Seeing you reminds me that some dreams aren’t meant to be.
He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Actually, I came to make sure you are happy and that this is truly where you want to be.”
Hanna nodded and smiled. “I’m satisfied here.”
Those probing onyx eyes bore down on her, searching for the secrets in her soul. “That’s not what I asked, Mags. Are you happy?”
No, because you aren’t here with me and I love you like crazy, damn it! “Of course I’m happy,” she said instead. “You engineered a reconciliation with my father and my life is now my own. I have what I’ve always wanted. And you have what you want. Justice. I imagine your sense of satisfaction is overwhelming.”
What was overwhelming was Cale’s obsessive need to reach out and touch Hanna, to hold her close to his heart, to breathe her in and remember those incredible days and nights when all felt right in his world, when he was truly at peace with himself.
Go on, say it, you big coward. Tell her how you feel. Find out if she really does love you and if she wants to make this a true marriage, not just a temporary bargain that’s over and done.
“Hanna, I—”
“Don’t!” She pressed her fingertips to his lips and tears instantly filled her violet eyes. “Just go. Please. Don’t make this harder than it is. Don’t you know it’s killing me to have you here, knowing you’re going away and won’t be back?”
He drew her fingertips from his lips and held her hand in his. He stared at her while shiny tears slid down her flushed cheeks. “You want me to stay? Why’s that, Mags?”
She swatted his chest, stamped her foot and blurted out, “Blast it, Cale, I love you, that’s why! There, I’ve said it. I can’t even remember what it felt like not to love you.” Her free arm swept outward in an all-encompassing gesture. “This is just busy work. I completely understand why my father immersed himself in business after losing my mother and brother. He was trying to outrun the ache of lost love and recover from the kind of wound that never heals.”
“I love you, too, Hanna,” Cale said quietly, humbled by her courage to speak from her heart while he kept dillydallying and testing the waters—just in case Malloy, Arliss and the deputy marshals were mistaken about her feelings for him. He hadn’t been sure enough of himself to believe, not until he heard the words from her lips.
Her misty violet eyes shot open and her jaw dropped. “What did you say?”
&
nbsp; “I said I love you, too.” It was easier to say the unfamiliar words the second time. Cale thought maybe, with regular practice, he’d get even better at it.
Despite her tears, a radiant smile encompassed her face. “Oh my God! You do? Truly?” She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed the stuffing out of him.
“Yeah, I truly do.” He winced and added, “Ouch.”
“Sorry.” Hanna quickly withdrew. She grabbed his hand and towed him toward the house, away from the curious gazes of her young laborers. “Let me show you what I’ve done with the place. If you don’t approve, of course we’ll change it because—”
“Magnolia Blossom,” he interrupted, grinning like an absolute idiot who was so deeply in love that he was practically floating on air.
“I want this to be our home,” she continued, ignoring his attempt to interject a comment.
“Mags—”
“My father suggested importing furniture,” she said, speaking over him, “but I insisted on practical comfort first and foremost. So…what do you think?”
Cale halted inside the front door, marveling at the drastic changes. The colorful new drapes were flung open to provide a grand view of the wide-open spaces. A dozen vases of riotous wildflowers graced the spacious room. Overstuffed couches and chairs had been arranged around the sandstone hearth, where Skeet lay napping on a pallet that Hanna obviously hadn’t made herself. It looked too good to be one of her knitting projects.
“The place looks grand,” he said approvingly.
“Come on, I want you to see what I’ve done with the master bedroom,” she insisted, leading him upstairs.
Cale screeched to a halt and stared at the extra-wide bed, which was covered with a fluffy, down-filled comforter.
“Now that’s a bed,” he said approvingly, and remembered he’d once told Hanna that the first thing he wanted to purchase when they settled into the loft over the gun shop was a big featherbed. Unfortunately, investigating Otis Pryor’s criminal activities had occupied all of his time.
