Healing Montana Love: Bear Grass Springs, Book Eleven

by Flightner, Ramona

  With quivering legs, Charlotte forced herself to move to the room she shared with Dalton to wash the dirt off her face and neck. Rather than lay down for the nap she desperately desired, she moved to the kitchen to prepare supper. Looking out the window, she saw Dixon sitting on a stump of wood. “Did you bring supplies?” she called out the window.

  “No,” he yelled back. “Boss didn’t think you’d be needin’ ’em.”

  “That’s odd,” Charlotte muttered under her breath. She looked around at their paltry stores. Nearly out of flour, sugar, and all other baking necessities, they would either need to be replaced by a delivery from the main ranch, or she and Dalton would have to return. Tonight would be another basic meal of stew and day-old bread without butter.

  After a few hours puttering around the kitchen and daydreaming, she looked out the window to see Dalton chatting with Dixon in a low voice. Whatever the younger man said to her husband infuriated him, as he glowered and spun away to kick at a clump of dirt. When the words “impropriety” and “shame” carried on the faint breeze, she shivered and backed away from the kitchen window. Soon enough she would learn the reason behind Dixon’s visit.

  * * *

  Dalton wolfed down his wife’s stew, barely tasting it. When his bowl was empty, he waved away her offer for a second helping. Waiting for Dixon to finish eating, Dalton cleared his throat when the younger man gave him a subtle nod. “Charlotte, there’s something we must—I must—talk with you about.”

  Her spoon dropped into her bowl with a clatter. “What is it?” she whispered. Her gaze moved between the two men, before focusing on her husband. “Please, just tell me.”

  “I don’t know if I told you, but, when we were in town for our wedding, it was decided that we would pool our resources so that we knew where Orville was at all times.”

  She paled, shaking her head. “No, you didn’t tell me any of that,” she whispered. “And we don’t have the money for that.”

  He sighed, reaching for her hands. “I know. But our … friends are very generous. They want to ensure your safety.”

  “They consider you family, Missus,” Dixon said stiffly.

  “What’s happened?” Charlotte asked, her attention wholly focused on her husband. “Why did Mr. Dixon need to visit us on our honeymoon if not to bring us supplies?”

  Dalton let out a breath and swore softly. “That’s just the thing, Lottie. This isn’t simply our honeymoon. We came here to hide away a while. To make sure the danger to you had passed.” He held on to her hands, when she would have pulled them away. “And I’m afraid it hasn’t.”

  “You’re speaking in riddles, Dalton,” she whispered. “How could I be in danger out here? No one knows where I am.”

  Flushing, Dixon moved his head in an apologetic manner. “You’re not completely correct in that. All of the ranch knows. All the MacKinnons and their friends know. And Mr. Warren fears someone talked. The ba—Orville has disappeared from Helena. Mrs. Jameson claims she saw him in town late last week, but we know the woman’s penchant for lying.” Mrs. Jameson was Helen’s mother, and she was a bitter, angry woman with no regard for the MacKinnons or their friends.

  Charlotte’s breath left her in a whoosh. “He could be on his way here. He could find me.” She gazed blankly at the tabletop.

  “Boss swears all his men, even the drifters, are loyal,” Dixon said. “There is talk that perhaps you want to be found. That you were the one who wrote him.”

  Charlotte gasped, wrenching her hands free of Dalton’s. She struck, slapping Dixon across the face, before jumping to her feet and backing away from the table. “Get out.” When the man gaped at her as though she were deranged, she screamed, “Get out! You have no right to doubt. You have no right to … to …” Tears gushed down her cheeks as her chest heaved. “I trusted you because you worked with Dalton. But you’re horrible.”

  Dalton rose, motioning for Dixon to leave the kitchen.

  “No, Dalt. How come she was walkin’ in today from the range, all disheveled, with her hair comin’ undone?” Dixon asked.

  Charlotte shook her head, paling as she saw Dalton freeze in his approach to soothe her. “You’d doubt?” she whispered. She held a quivering hand to rub at her temple. “How could you?”

  “Lottie?” Dalton murmured. “What were you doin’ on the range?”

  “You think I’d meet him?” she whispered, barely able to speak such vile words. “Truly?”

  “Tell me.”

  She stared into her husband’s eyes, hating the doubt and fear she saw within. With a long sigh, she said, “For the last several days, I’ve gone on walks when you ride out. I saw a horse. A beautiful horse. And I finally earned its trust enough to pat it. He’s a little skittish, and, when I patted him today, he tossed his head and knocked me down.” She shrugged.

  “What’s he look like?” Dalton asked in a low voice.

  “Majestic. Huge. Chestnut-colored.”

  “You’ve been tryin’ to tame Brutus?” Dixon asked, as though she were the most feeble-minded person he’d ever encountered.

  “I don’t know who Brutus is, but it’s certainly not this horse. He should be called Regal or some other fine name.” When her husband snorted and shook his head, she glared at him. She swiped at her cheeks, stepping backward when Dalton moved toward her. “No,” she said. “No. You doubted. You are not forgiven.” She pushed past him, racing away until the door slammed to the room they shared.

  “Dammit,” Dalton hissed. “I could have handled that better.”

  Dixon sighed. “Sorry, Dalt. I made it worse. I filled your head with nonsense.”

  Dalton sat with a thunk at the table again, resting his head in his hands. “I tell her that I trust her, and, at the first sign of trouble, I doubt her. What a fool.” He looked at the younger man, who had never claimed to be proficient at love or relationships.

  “Boss wants you to come home to the ranch. Doesn’t want you out here alone.”

  Dalton stared at the younger man for a long, hard moment. “Did you come out here to stir up trouble, Dix?”

  Dixon’s eyes widened, and he shook his head over and over again. “No, Dalt. Of course not. You know what I was like when I arrived at the ranch. I’d never betray you or anyone in our family.”

  Dalton sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He closed his eyes, as his shoulders stooped. “I forgot these hard moments in a marriage,” he murmured. “After someone dies, you tend to remember the good times. The laughs. The affection. The joy in her presence.” He paused. “You don’t dwell on those moments of discord. Or when you acted like an ass and had to apologize.”

  Dixon took a slurp of water from his glass. “Is it worth it?” he asked. “Seems like you, Boss, and Slims spend an awful lot of time tied up in knots over your women. Maybe it’s just better bein’ alone.”

  Dalton laughed and shook his head. “Hell no, it ain’t better bein’ alone, Dix. I’d take every fight, every moment like this, for one second where I get to hold her. To hear her laugh. Or sing.”

  Dixon rose and clapped the older man on his shoulder. “Well, I’d get good at grovelin’ then, for Miss Charlotte was sure fired up.” He nodded to the older man and left to spend the night in the barn.

  Sitting alone in the kitchen, Dalton listened as evening settled over the house. Although a small farmhouse, it was comfortable enough, and he wished he and Charlotte would go back to a home like this when they returned to the main ranch. He dreaded living in the home he’d shared with Mary and intermingling his old memories with new ones he now created with Charlotte.

  With a groan, he rose, taking a moment to stretch out his muscles, before he moved to their room. At the closed door, he tapped on it softly. When no response came from his knock, he pushed it open. “Lottie?” he whispered. “Love?”

  “Don’t call me that.” She laid curled on her side, a blanket wrapped around her. Her sobs had ceased, and she stared at him with a dull pain in he
r gaze. “If I were your love, you’d never doubt me.”

  He approached the bed and dropped to his knees, so he was at her eye level. “That’s not true,” he said in a low voice. “I’m human. I’m a man, Charlotte.” He sighed as he bowed his head and ran his index finger over his temple. “I have no excuse but to say I froze at the thought of you, out in the fields, completely vulnerable. All I could see was him coming for you, and I would have been nowhere nearby to protect you.”

  “Don’t lie,” she said in a scratchy voice. “You paused because you thought I was having secret meetings with him. That I wanted to see him again.” She shook her head, as she pushed up, her anger overpowering her sorrow. “How could you?”

  “How could I not?” he roared. “How am I to know if you found greater pleasure with him than with me?” He flushed and rose, spinning to face away from her. He slammed his hand against the bedroom door, his breaths emerging as harsh pants.

  “What?” she gasped. “What are you talking about?” She slipped from the bed on silent feet, her hands tracing his back. Even though he stiffened at her touch, she continued to softly caress his rigid muscles.

  “How do I know you’re not dreaming of him, wishing he were by your side rather than some cowpoke with a body that’s breakin’ down too fast?” he asked with his bowed head. “I know I didn’t please you on our weddin’ night, Lottie. I know I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m sorry.” His voice rang with a deep regret.

  “Hush,” she whispered. “That’s not true.” She kissed one shoulder and then the other. “You know how much I’ve loved every moment we spend together. How I wish we had more time for just the two of us.”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t know. You’ve never said.” He gave an oof of surprise when she wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing all along his back.

  “You need the words as much as I do,” she breathed in total amazement. “I never realized. … I never knew.” She took a shaky breath. “Every morning I wake alone in our bed, and I wish you were beside me. I ache to feel your arms around me, to hear your husky voice as you whisper to me while you fight sleep, to feel your fingers stroke through my hair.”

  He turned to meet her earnest, embarrassed gaze. “You speak the truth?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I … I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt our wedding night. I was overwhelmed. I never knew I could feel so much. So much passion and pleasure. I’d never felt that before.” She ducked her head. “I feared you wanted Mary. I didn’t know what to do!” she cried out.

  “Lottie,” he whispered. “You were my dream come to life.” His fingers caressed the hair at her temple. “I only thought of you. I promise.” He cupped her cheeks, before leaning forward to kiss her softly. “I’ve been tormented with the belief you dreamed of another.”

  “Never, Dalton. Never,” Charlotte whispered. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, “I realize now, I was never important to him. I could have been anyone to him. You showed me what lovemaking could be like. Should be like.”

  When he stared at her for a long moment, with a gaze filled with uncertainty, she arched up to kiss him. “Please don’t doubt, Dalton. Your faith in me—in us—has been the greatest gift I’ve ever received.” She paled when he shook his head.

  “No, Lottie, that’s one of my gifts to you.” He silenced her with a kiss. “My greatest gift has been, and always will be, my love. I love you, as I never knew I could love.” He paused a moment. “I mean no disrespect to Mary, for I loved her too. But what I feel for you is so vibrant. So soul fulfilling.” He shrugged, as though he didn’t have the words to express what was deep in his heart.

  “You love me?” she whispered, her mouth dropped open in shock.

  Chuckling, he murmured, “Now who doubts?” as he bent to kiss her parted lips. “Of course I do, my Lottie. My beautiful, giving, passionate, caring wife.” He stroked a finger down her delicate jawline. “When a man feels like this, he’s not always rational. I’m not,” he admitted.

  “Do you trust me?” she asked. “Do you believe I’ll never betray you?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I’ve wondered, for days, about what you do while I’m away. You’ve been evasive with your answers, when I ask about how you’ve spent the time I’m away from the ranch.”

  Pressing forward, Charlotte tucked her head under his jaw. “Oh, Dalton, I wanted to surprise Frederick! I wanted to do something to thank him and to repay him for taking me in when he didn’t have to. For giving me a home. I thought I could train this beautiful horse and gift him to Frederick. He’d be a fine stallion for him.”

  Dalton burst out laughing, his hands running over her head, before cupping her cheeks. “Oh, my precious darlin’, do you have no idea who Brutus is? What he did?” When she shook her head in absolute confusion, he said, “Frederick bought him as a gift for his grandfather, Harold. But Brutus was just that, a brute. Couldn’t be trained, not even by Bears, the best horse trainer I’ve ever met. Harold was on the verge of sendin’ him east to be made into glue, after Brutus ate one too many pairs of his pantaloons, but thankfully he was in his stall January, a year and a half ago.”

  “Why?”

  “Helen’s brother, Walter, was a menace, and his target was Fidelia. Bears’s wife.” He paused until he saw that she’d made the connection to everyone he’d mentioned. “Walter followed Fidelia into the livery when it was empty, and somehow Brutus trampled Walter to death, savin’ Fidelia.”

  “Oh my,” Charlotte breathed.

  “Bears and Fidelia set Brutus free out here as a thank-you to him. And because they knew he was never meant to be tamed.” He ran a finger over her cheek again. “Promise me that you won’t approach him again. The thought of what he could have done to you these past days will prevent me from sleepin’ for a year.”

  She pressed into his embrace, holding him close. “It’s hard to reconcile your story with the horse I’ve come to know.” She sighed. “Not that I know that much about him or horses.”

  “Promise me, Lottie.”

  “I promise. I’ll remain close to the homestead.” She bit her lip as she peered up at him through her lashes. “Will you remain closer too?”

  “I only have a few more days’ worth of work, and then we should return to the ranch. Boss wants us there so you’ll be better protected.” He frowned when he saw disappointment in her gaze. “Love?”

  “I … I wish our time here had been different,” she whispered.

  “Different?” he asked. “How?” When she wriggled away, as though she didn’t want to speak further on the subject, he held her close. “No, Lottie, you began this conversation. Now you must finish it. Don’t be shy. Not with me.”

  Blushing crimson red, she blurted out, “I hate what Davina and Sorcha will think!” When he stared at her in absolute confusion, she said, “They teased that I’d have weeks and weeks for our honeymoon. Instead all I’ll be able to talk about is you working long hours digging post holes and falling asleep over your supper each night out of exhaustion.”

  “You wanted a honeymoon?” he asked with a shy smile. At her bashful nod and shrug, he let out a loud whoop, picking her up and carrying her to their bed. He settled her gently onto the mattress and rested beside her. “Then we’ll have a honeymoon,” he whispered in her ear. “Digging a post hole could never be as enticing as you, love.”

  She giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him close for a kiss.

  * * *

  Charlotte rested on his chest, her fingers playing across his smooth skin. She marveled that his muscles jumped at her soft caress, and she kissed him softly. One of his arms was tangled in her riotous hair, the other looped low over her hips. Their legs remained intertwined, and she sighed as she pushed back.

  “No,” he gasped. “Please don’t leave me.” He groaned as though he’d been physically harmed, dropping his arms away. “I’m sorry. If this is what you need ...” He broke off, his eyes closed, and his jaw
clenched.

  She gazed up at him, her expression softening to one of absolute tenderness, as she saw him attempting to give her what he thought she wanted, even though it went against his deepest desires. “Dalton, my love,” she breathed. She waited, but he didn’t open his eyes. She traced her fingers over his face, trailing through his stubble until she cupped his jaw. Dissatisfied, she arched up, kissing his jaw before nipping it.

  His eyes flew open, and his arms tightened around her again. “Lottie?”

  “I … I feared I was proving myself to be a harlot by wanting to be in your arms. That I should feel ashamed because I relished in every touch, every caress, when I’d so recently thought I loved another.” She ducked her head in shame.

  “Who fed you such lies?” he rasped. “Adella?” Rolling Lottie gently to her side, he sheltered her with his large body, cradling her cheeks in his hands.

  She nodded, her eyes filled with despair. “I thought I should sleep apart. That it proved I was strong. And that you married a worthy woman.” She gasped and clung to his shoulders when he swooped forward to kiss her.

  “You are passionate and brave and everything I ever dreamed of and never thought I’d find again.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Never doubt how proud I am to call you my wife.”

  “But, when I tried to seduce you, you stormed away!” she cried, tears leaking onto her cheeks.

  He leaned away, staring at her dumfounded. “Seduce me?” He flushed.

  “I’d never tease you, Dalton. But I don’t know how to be a seductress. I’m a simple woman, and I have no experience with men.” She flushed beet red, her gaze dropping to focus on his throat, rather than the incredulous look in his gaze. “I don’t even know if you like what we did. Now or on our honeymoon.”

  He gave an incredulous snort of laughter. “You’d doubt?” At the wounded look in her gaze, he kissed her nose and cheeks as he murmured, “Oh, love, Slims is right. We must talk. Everything is worse with silence.” He stared deeply into her beautiful eyes.