Western Spring Weddings

by Lynna Banning

  “Do you want to stop at the ranch and see Clara?” Dal asked after they’d traveled some distance.

  As much as she would have liked to, and understanding Dal was surely anxious to see how his sister was doing, Ellie shook her head. It was time for her to get home and return to being a weed, just like the ones sprouting up alongside the road despite the melting snow. Those weeds were her homecoming. They were signs that she was back where she belonged. But it had been a wonderful four days, full of more fun and adventures than she’d ever even dreamed about.

  “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” he said.

  She nodded. He’d been doing that since they’d left town—trying to engage her in conversation—but she held her tongue. She couldn’t be sure of what might slip out if she opened her mouth. The dreams and memories filling her head left her discontented, and she felt it far more strongly than ever before. It had been easy to believe things could be different while in the city, but back here, where every bump and corner was familiar, she had to face the fact that nothing had changed. She was still Ellie Alexander, a rustler’s daughter. People in Wichita hadn’t all known that, and therefore had accepted her being at Dal’s side, but that wouldn’t happen back here in Buckley. Here they would point out she didn’t belong at his side. Didn’t belong anywhere near him. And no one would be more certain of that than her brothers.

  When Dal pulled the wagon up next to the sod shanty, she quickly climbed down and grabbed her traveling bag out of the back. “Thank you for the lift home and tell Clara I’ll be over to see her later this week,” she said, heading for the door.

  He’d already climbed down from his seat and stopped her before she got all the way to the house. “Whoa up. There’s other stuff in the back that belongs to you.”

  She held her bag up a bit higher. “No, there’s not.”

  “The things I bought for you are yours. They weren’t returned.”

  Ellie’s stomach churned as if she was about to be sick, and her eyes burned. She sincerely didn’t need any reminders of what couldn’t be. “Thank you, but I have no need for them.”

  He stiffened and she looked away, unable to meet the anger that flashed in his eyes, and blinked away the tears in hers.

  “What about the material for Clara’s wedding dress?”

  She’d forgotten about that—the very reason she’d gone on the trip—and suddenly realized not visiting the ranch any more than was necessary would serve her best. “I—I’ll sew it here. I’ll put my bag away and come and get it.”

  “I’ll carry it in.”

  Her insides quivered, yet she knew protesting wouldn’t stop him.

  The interior of the shanty was dark and gloomy. Thankfully James and Daniel, who must have left hours before, hadn’t left things in disarray, but it was still a sod shanty. This little shack seemed the epitome of her life. Of who she was.

  “You can just set it by the door.” Although her back was to him, she felt the moment Dal stepped over the threshold.

  She closed her eyes against the sting of tears, which only made the sound of him setting things down that much louder. The stinging grew as he grasped her shoulders and spun her around.

  Ellie didn’t have time to open her eyes before his lips landed on hers. This kiss was far more ardent than his others, and some inner will she couldn’t control had her responding eagerly. When his tongue slipped inside her mouth, she grasped the sides of his coat, wishing she would never have to let go.

  She knew she had to, though, and battled against herself until she found enough will to break the kiss and spin around. Her heart was racing and breaking at the same time. The past few days had been wonderful, and a time she’d never forget, but she was home now. Someday things might be different, but today wasn’t someday.

  “Ellie—”

  “Goodbye, Dal,” she said firmly. “Goodbye.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Spring arrived with such force it was hard to believe that a foot of snow had covered the ground what seemed like only days before. Although, actually, it hadn’t been days, but weeks. The fields had turned completely green, the trees had budded out and birds greeted each morning with more happiness than Ellie could stand.

  “Would you like me to borrow a wagon from Mr. Weston again so you can take Clara her dress?” James asked as they ate breakfast.

  He had done that for her shortly after she’d returned home. Clara had been very happy to see her, and excited about the dress, but had been so full of questions about the trip to Wichita and the cattlemen’s ball that Ellie dreaded the idea of visiting again. Dal hadn’t been at home, and fearing he might be on her next trip had made her put off another visit.

  “Her wedding is only a few days away,” James said.

  “I know when her wedding is.” Ellie flinched slightly. She hadn’t meant to snap at him.

  “You sure haven’t been yourself since you got home, Ellie,” Daniel said. “What happened in Wichita?”

  Ellie drew a deep breath. The discontentment that had settled deep and hard inside her was so suffocating it hurt to breathe at times. “If you must know,” she said, looking for a reason herself, “I was offered a job while in Wichita.”

  “Doing what?” James asked.

  “Sewing. The woman who owns the shop where I got the material for Clara’s dress wanted to hire me on the spot. Said I had a job waiting there whenever I wanted it.”

  “That’s great, Ellie,” James said.

  His excitement surprised her.

  “You’ve always wanted to be a seamstress,” he continued. “Are you going to take her up on her offer?”

  Ellie glanced from him to Daniel. “Who would take care of you two?”

  They both laughed. “We are plenty capable of taking care of ourselves,” Daniel said.

  “Besides,” James replied, glancing at them and shrugging, “you both know Bonnie Weston and I have been sweet on each other for some time. Well, Bonnie wants to get married this spring. It seems there’s something about spring weddings. Anyway, I agreed to it but wasn’t sure how to tell you.”

  Ellie was a bit stunned. “Tell me?”

  “Yes, you’ve been moping around since you got home. Now that I know it’s because you had to come home to sew Clara’s dress, I can see why. I’m sure you would have rather stayed in Wichita.”

  Ellie couldn’t say that was true. “You wouldn’t mind if I moved? Wouldn’t miss me?”

  “Oh, we’d miss you,” Daniel said, “but we can’t all live here together forever.”

  Dumbfounded, she turned to him.

  “Do you have plans to get married, too?”

  A sliver of anger struck her. She’d had all the spring wedding talk she could handle. It must be some sort of fever that hit at this time of year. While sewing Clara’s dress, she’d even fantasized about her own spring wedding—and who the groom would be.

  “No,” Daniel said with a laugh. “But I do have plans.” He glanced at James and waited for a nod before he said, “I talked to Jamison at the depot, and he’s willing to take me on as an apprentice.”

  “At the railroad?” she asked.

  “Yep. Every time I hear a train whistle blow, I feel like it’s calling to me.” He shrugged. “But I couldn’t leave you here alone, not with James getting married.”

  “Now that you have a job in Wichita, we can all move on,” James added.

  “Move on?” she repeated. “What about this place?”

  “Considering it butts up against Dal Roberts’s land, I’m hoping he’ll be interested in buying it,” James said. “That would give us each a bit of starting money.”

  Her heart skipped a beat at just the sound of Dal’s name. “You’d sell this place to Dal?” she asked. “I thought you hated him.”

&
nbsp; “I don’t hate Dal,” James said. “There’s no reason to. We can’t blame him for his father hanging ours. That was Pa’s fault, not ours, or Dal’s.”

  “But—”

  “It’s long past time for all of us to move out from under the dark cloud Pa left hanging over us,” Daniel said. “I think selling this place would be the best thing.”

  “Think about it, Ellie,” James said, pushing away from the table. “We can talk about it tonight.”

  She hadn’t come up with a response before they’d both left for work, and still wasn’t sure what she thought about it long after the breakfast dishes had been washed and put away. The shanty had been the only home she’d ever known, and while she’d claimed to hate it, she wasn’t ready to leave. Or maybe she just wasn’t ready to move to Wichita.

  Opening the door to toss out the dishwater, she stumbled at the sight of the man standing on the stoop. The dishpan jostled in her hand, and though both she and Dal fumbled to catch it, the pan toppled, sloshing both him and her in the process.

  He laughed as he picked it up. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You didn’t scare me,” she said, instantly defensive.

  “All right, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Her heart was already thudding, but the beat doubled when she saw the shine in Dal’s blue eyes. She took the pan from him and spun about to carry it inside to the table. “What are you doing here?”

  Once again, her entire body felt the moment he crossed the threshold.

  “Well, I could say Clara sent me to check on her dress, but that would be a lie.”

  Ellie turned about, prepared to tell him the dress was finished, but her breath caught in the back of her throat, making speech impossible. He was moving closer and all she could think about was the last time he’d been here. The last time she’d seen him. The kiss they’d shared.

  “Truth is, Ellie, I’ve missed you. Missed you like I’ve never missed anyone, and I’m tired of it.”

  A bout of trembles overtook her. “T-t-tired of it?”

  * * *

  Dal had known seeing her would send his insides on a wild ride, but he could handle that. What he couldn’t handle was not seeing her. “Yep,” he said. “And I’m tired of hearing about spring weddings and how every girl wants one.”

  He reached out and took hold of the hands she was wringing together. Feeling how they trembled, he held them more firmly. “Is it true?” he asked.

  She frowned slightly and bit her bottom lip before lifting her head to meet his gaze. “Is what true?”

  “That every girl wants a spring wedding?”

  Shrugging slightly, she answered, “It seems so.”

  “Do you?”

  She took a step back and Dal followed, pinning her between the table and him. He’d mulled over his options for far too long and wasn’t about to let her get away. Over the past few weeks he’d come to understand why Ellie had always made him feel like a greenhorn, why he’d jumped at the opportunity to defend her when someone had remarked on who her father was at the Mulberry Tree Saloon, why he’d been so upset about Abigail offering her a job and why he hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest since they’d arrived home from Wichita. If there ever had been a man in love, it was him.

  “Do you, Ellie?” he repeated.

  “Do I what?”

  “Want a spring wedding?”

  She glanced left and right, avoiding making eye contact.

  He leaned closer, forcing her to look at him. “I do, and when a cowboy says I do, he means it from the bottom of his boots.”

  “What? You—”

  “I want a spring wedding, and years from now, I want my wife to ask me if I remember how the cherry trees were blooming so I can tell her that I do and that I remember how beautiful she was that day. And how beautiful she still is and will always be. Do you want to know who I want that woman to be?”

  Her eyelids closed and her lips trembled as she pressed them together.

  “You, Ellie,” he whispered, his insides chaotic. He’d never bared his soul before, but he’d bare more than his soul for her. “I want to marry you, and I’m hoping beyond all I’ve ever hoped for that you want to marry me.”

  Her eyes snapped open and the light that shone from them lit up his insides until she sighed and bowed her head. Holding his breath, he waited for the moment he’d feared.

  “You can’t want to marry me, Dal.”

  “Yes, I can, and I do.”

  “I’m Ellie Alexander,” she said. “My father—”

  “I know who you are, and I know who your father was. I just hope you can forgive me for who my father was.”

  She frowned. “Forgive you? Your father—”

  “What my father did to yours was far worse than what yours did to him,” Dal said, voicing another thing he’d come to understand and accept. “I’m hoping we can move past that, Ellie. Neither of us had anything to do with anything that happened back then.”

  “I know we didn’t,” she said, “but you don’t even like me.”

  “Yes, I do. I have for a very long time.” Knowing she’d argue until the moon turned blue, he said, “Matter of fact, I love you. Now will you marry me or not?”

  Pinching her lips together she whispered, “People will—”

  “What other people think has never concerned me,” he said. “You know that, but let me assure you, no one questions my actions. And they won’t this time, either. This is between you and me, Ellie, not our fathers, or anyone else.”

  She appeared taken aback, so he clarified, “Will you marry me? Yes or no?” Then, taking it a step further, he said, “Yes, and I kiss you, no, and I walk away.”

  Her features softened as a smile tilted the edges of her mouth upward. “You’ll walk away?”

  His insides jolted briefly, until he realized she’d seen though his bluff as she most likely always would. “No,” he admitted, “I’ll get on my knees and beg.”

  She shook her head slightly and then stretched upward. Moments before she pressed her lips to his, she whispered, “You Robertses are impossible to say no to.”

  “Good,” he replied, and pulled her into a kiss neither of them would ever forget.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Years from now Ellie knew she would remember how handsome Dal looked, and how happy she felt walking down the aisle toward him. The sun was shining, but at that moment, she knew that made little difference. It could have been cloudy or raining or snowing. The sunshine was inside her.

  She and Dal said their I dos alongside Clara and Bill, something Clara had insisted upon, and this time, Ellie had had no desire to argue or say no. Clara wore the gown Ellie had sewn, and Ellie wore the one Dal had bought in Wichita. He’d offered to buy her another one, but this was the one she wanted to wear again—although the dress mattered little to her. The man she was marrying was all she cared about, and when he vowed to love her, she felt the strength of his words clear to her toes.

  How he affirmed that promise with a breath-stealing kiss at the end of the ceremony sent a fiery thrill through her. When the kiss ended, he murmured against her mouth, “This is just the beginning, darling.”

  The mischief in his eyes made her giggle. “Promise?”

  “Oh, I promise.”

  The excitement that ensued barely allowed her to keep her feet on the ground, and the anticipation of what was yet to come had her wishing the festivities were over.

  It appeared Dal thought the same, because shortly after they had received a swell of congratulations and well-wishing, he whispered in her ear, “Ready to make our exit?”

  She nodded, and neither of them looked back as they hurried toward the ranch house. At the front door, Dal paused long enough to sweep her into his arms
, and a wail of whoops and hollers from their guests followed them from afar as he carried her over the threshold. A heated blush flooded her system, for the guests surely knew what she and Dal were about to do, but it wasn’t enough to quell the eagerness flowing through her veins. Besides, he had been right—no one questioned his actions.

  For the past few days, while making the final preparations for the wedding, she and Clara had giggled and gossiped about what their wedding nights would bring—the full initiation into womanhood. Those discussions had left Ellie giddy, but also a bit nervous.

  Dal carried her all the way up the long stairway and down the hall to his room before setting her down. As if reading her thoughts, he said, “Don’t be frightened, Ellie. I’ll never hurt you.”

  She looped her arms around his neck. “It’s not you I’m frightened of,” she whispered. “It’s me. I’m dying to become your wife in every way. It’s as if all of my dreams are coming true, and I’m afraid I’m going to do something, make a mistake—”

  He stilled her words with a gentle, sincere kiss that filled her heart so completely it swelled in her chest.

  “No mistake will ever make me stop loving you,” he murmured against her lips. “Nothing will ever do that.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “I hope not, Dal. I love you so much, I don’t want to disappoint you, not ever.”

  He’d leaned back and held her face with both hands. “Say that again.”

  “I don’t want to—”

  “No,” he said. “The ‘I love you’ part. It’s the first time you’ve said it.”

  Taken aback, she shook her head. “It is?”

  “Yes, I was starting to worry—”

  Alarmed, she pressed one hand to his mouth. “That I didn’t love you?”

  He nodded.

  “Why would I marry you if I didn’t love you?”

  “There are all sorts of reasons people get married,” he said. “I was willing to take whatever I could get.”