She flushed.
“I will never forget the memory of you holding my feet to your chest.”
“Slims,” she admonished, holding her fingers over his lips, before dropping her hand to clench his again.
He laughed, staring deeply into her eyes. After a long moment, he sobered. “I’m older than you think, Davina, and I hope that doesn’t make you wish for a younger man.” He smiled as her grip on his hand tightened. “I’m fifty-one. I’ll be fifty-two in March.” He raised his head to gaze into her earnest face. “Rather too old for a jewel like you.”
“Nae,” she whispered. “I’m nearly forty. I’ve no need of a young husband who will want things from me I canna give him.”
“Children?” Slims whispered. At her nod, he cupped her cheek. “I never expected to marry. I thought the children I would adore would be Frederick’s and his brothers’. My soul does not call out for them.” He paused. “But it does for you.”
Her eyes widened at his whispered admission. “Simon,” she breathed. “I … I fear yer eventual disappointment in me. That ye will come to wish I were somethin’ other than I am.” She closed her eyes in defeat. “An’ I fear I couldna bear it a second time.”
Cupping her cheek, Slims leaned forward, brushing a featherlight kiss to her soft skin as he breathed into her ear. “I am not him. Let me prove that to you.”
“I fear I dinna have the courage.” A tear coursed down her cheek.
“I know you do,” he murmured. “How brave you were, to defy your father and to travel all the way from Scotland. And then to attempt to walk to the ranch from town in the middle of winter.” His fingers stroked her cheek. “And then to fight to prevent me from freezing to death.” He kissed the side of her neck. “You have all the courage you’ll ever need, but you must have faith in it. And in yourself.”
She leaned forward and would have tumbled off the stool if he hadn’t caught her and tugged her onto his lap. “I’m too heavy,” she protested.
“Ah, love, that’s the joy of marryin’ such a giant like me.” He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the soft fragrance of soap, cinnamon, and a scent that was all her. “Trust me.” He eased away, any levity or teasing absent from his gaze as he stared earnestly into her eyes. “I will never be the owner of a fine ranch. But I am loyal and honest and true. And I promise you, Davina, if you marry me, I will do everything I can to ensure you never feel small or belittled by me. Instead I want you to feel cherished and adored. You will be my wife, and you will be respected.”
He paused, knowing the words a woman longed to hear had been omitted from his passionate speech. However, he refused to lie to her, and he would not say what he was terrified of feeling. “Will you marry me?”
She gazed deeply into his eyes and then nodded. “Yes, I’ll marry ye, Simon.”
He let out a whoop and leaned forward, kissing her passionately. He groaned as her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him as close as he held her. His hands sank into her soft hair, loosening the strands, although not enough to have the golden locks tumble down her back.
He broke the kiss and held her against his chest. “Soon, my darlin’, soon,” he whispered in her ear.
A voice clearing in the livery had Slims looking over his shoulder, as he kept her in his protective embrace. “Yes?”
Bears poked his head into the tack room. “The preacher will be here in half an hour, and the ladies want to ensure Davina has time to prepare for the ceremony.”
Slims released her, when she pushed against his chest, his irritation at being denied holding her fading when she kissed his jaw and whispered, “Soon.” With a soft stroke down her back, he steadied her on her feet and then rose to watch her scurry back to the house. Somehow he knew his life would never be the same.
* * *
A soft wind had picked up again, as it had the previous night. Few ventured outside in the frigid temperatures, but Slims had a need to be out of doors for a few minutes. Away from the hustle and bustle inside, as they awaited the arrival of the preacher. Bears stood beside Slims on the back porch, while the women fussed inside over Davina.
“Simon?” Bears murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Don’t even,” Slims warned.
Bears chuckled, his gaze friendly and filled with compassion. “You do realize you’ll have to use your real name with the preacher? And then they’ll all find out?” Bears shook his head, his long black hair swaying slightly with the movement. “And then you’ll never have any peace as they tease you.”
Slims rubbed at his temple. “I don’t know what to do.”
Sobering in an instant, Bears stood tall, as he studied the ranch hand he knew only a little. “You don’t have to marry. Another scandal will come along soon, and the preacher is leaving tomorrow. He won’t have the chance to spread any more vicious lies about you or Davina. And, if there is any justice in this world, the new preacher will have more compassion.”
Slims shook his head. “You know what it’s like. I’ll be exonerated because I’m a man. She’ll have to live with a black cloud over her head forever. Simply because she was too kindhearted to let me freeze.” He stared out at the night’s sky.
“Call me a fool,” Bears said, a hint of irony in his voice, as few would ever be so witless as to call him that, “but I thought you genuinely cared for her.”
“I do,” Slims whispered, “but I fear it won’t be enough.”
Bears moved so he leaned against the railing and faced the larger man. Light from inside the kitchen glinted off his face, highlighting his high cheekbones and darker skin, a testament to his Native American mother. “What are you afraid of?” When Slims remained silent, Bears murmured, “I was afraid of losing my freedom. And of wanting her so much that I’d run her away from me.” He smiled as he thought about Fidelia. “But I found I have more freedom with her love. And there’s a peace that comes from knowing she loves me as I do her.”
“There is no such sentiment between Davina and me,” Slims murmured.
“You’re a fool if you can’t see it,” Bears said, gripping the man’s arm. “Don’t let fear steal this chance from you.” He looked into Slims’s gaze, lit by the faint rays of the moon. “Few men have the chance to love again, and you do.” He squeezed Slims’s shoulder and slipped inside.
Slims stood outside, berating himself for the terror he felt. Since he was a boy and had grown into a man, he had been taught to be strong and reliable and to never show any vulnerability. He feared Davina could be his greatest weakness.
He yearned for the certainty he’d had when he had asked for her hand not even an hour ago. Love. Oh, how that word terrified him. He had thought he could marry Davina, enjoy her wit and her presence in his life, but keep the essential part of himself separate from her. What a fool, he berated himself. Every moment in her presence, every laugh he heard, every smile that had lit his day, had pulled him deeper under her spell, and he knew no day would ever be wonderful if she weren’t in it. He clung to the rail as panic set in, staring up at the night’s sky, praying for her to care for him with an equal fervor.
Chapter 6
Davina stood in the hallway, leading into the living room, crammed full with all her newfound family and friends, her hands fisted in the skirt of the finest dress she had brought from Scotland. The light-blue cotton dress with buttons down the front had a scalloped neckline and was more suited for spring or summer. However, she knew she wouldn’t be cold inside the full house with the stoves pumping out heat. Her anticipation for her wedding night warmed her from the inside too. She flushed and firmed her shoulders, intent on focusing on the ceremony.
“Are ye sure, Davina?” Ewan asked. as he stood beside her.
She gripped his arm and nodded. “Aye,” she whispered, although she couldn’t completely mask the panic in her voice. “I pray I am not mistaken, but I trust he’s a good man.”
Ewan squeezed her hand. “Oh, he’s a good man. An’ h
e kens he’ll have hell to pay from all of us if he ever mistreats ye.” He smiled fondly at her, as he saw her eyes fill with tears at his declaration. “Ye ken ye’re one of us now. We protect those we love.”
“Thank ye, Ewan,” she whispered, tugging on his arm to prevent him from stepping into the doorway, signaling that the ceremony was to begin. When he stared at her in confusion, she whispered, “Thank ye for rescuing my trunk an’ for acceptin’ me. Ye could have rejected me because I’m no’ a MacKinnon.”
He shook his head, as though that were a foreign concept. “Ye ken ’tis no’ our way.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Ye’ve made yer man wait long enough with the miserable preacher for company. Save him.” When she laughed, he motioned for her to follow him into the doorway.
Davina continued to chuckle, and she smiled brilliantly when she gazed down the makeshift aisle to stare at Slims, standing in his rumpled clothes. No one in town was large enough to lend him a new suit for his wedding day. She focused on the quiet promise in his gaze, the joy that lit his eyes to a warm caramel color, feeling as though she too were warmed by his deep emotions.
The preacher cleared his throat and opened his Bible. Harold stood beside the man, thumping him on his back once, before Harold stepped aside. Cruikshanks glared at Harold and then attempted to paste on a more welcoming expression, although it merely made him look gaseous.
Ignoring Pastor Cruikshanks, Davina approached Slims, her smile hopeful and her gaze filled with girlish dreams she had thought lost to her. However, the evening wedding in a new land with a new family around her acted as a kindling to feed her dreams. Standing before Slims, she gazed at him, as though this wedding had been planned for months, and finally she was allowed to fulfill her heart’s desire.
He reached forward and gripped her hands as the pastor began to speak. Rather than focus on the pastor’s words, she stared deeply into Slims’s eyes, praying the promises she saw within were not a mirage. That they would not disappear as easily as mist at dawn’s rays.
When Slims squeezed her hands, she turned to face the pastor, who stared at her with mild concern. “Aye?” she breathed.
“Will you say your vows or is this truly a farcical marriage?”
“Cruiks!” Harold snapped.
“I’ll say my vows,” Davina said in a low, sweet voice. “I merely found starin’ in my husband’s eyes more interestin’ than anythin’ ye had to say.”
Snickers and stifled laughter rippled through the room as Pastor Cruikshanks flushed as red as a ripe tomato. “Well, I’ve never heard such insolence at the wedding altar before. And he’s not your husband yet! You should remain hopeful that I finish this mockery of a wedding. I should have known better than to expect a MacKinnon to know how to show respect …”
“Pastor, the vows,” Slims said in a low, forceful voice.
Pastor Cruikshanks took a deep breath and let it out in a huff, before reciting the vows for Davina to repeat. Once she had said hers, Slims said his, slipping a ring onto her finger.
“By the power vested in me, although I sincerely doubt this is a wise decision, and I fear you will soon be drowning in misery, I pronounce you husband and wife!”
Davina ignored the pastor and stared expectantly at her husband, gasping when he gave her a short passionate kiss. She backed away from Slims at the roar of approval from the MacKinnons and friends, blushing as she stood beside her husband.
Soon everyone had approached them to congratulate them, and the pastor had been relegated to the kitchen, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a huge slab of Annabelle’s cake in another to calm his nerves. “Dinna worry about the man,” Ewan said. “We’ll have him so addled by the time he returns home to his missus that he’ll tell the entire town about the beautiful weddin’. He’ll make the townsfolk jealous to have missed another MacKinnon ceremony.”
“Ye’re a rascal, are ye no’?” Davina said with affection in her voice. Already Ewan was one of her favorite people.
“Aye, an’ I’m proud of it. If there’s any justice in the world, wee Aileana will be one too.”
Davina laughed and accepted hugs from Leticia, Jessamine, and Helen. Davina lingered to speak with Helen. “Yer husband does no’ seem pleased about the marriage.” She glanced in the direction of Warren Clark, the town’s lawyer, who stood to one side of the celebrating MacKinnons with a forbidding expression.
“Don’t worry about him. He has a case that’s tying him in knots. He’ll have a glass of whiskey and eat a piece of delicious cake, and then he’ll relax.”
Soon Davina and Slims had been pulled into the kitchen to partake of the wedding cake Annabelle had made, and any concern Davina had had about the pastor or Warren was eclipsed by the joy of the moment. She stared around at everyone delighted for her, marveling at her change in fate. All, even Warren Clark, were laughing, joking, and in good cheer. For an instant, she recalled her first wedding celebration. A bleak affair with little joy and an abundance of pretentious posturing by both families. This festive occasion seemed like a dream.
She stood beside Slims, as Cailean called for everyone to quiet.
After his third try, the raucous group fell silent. “I should ken better than to wait until after whiskey an’ cake to speak,” he said, as everyone chuckled. His accent had subtly reappeared with the whiskey and his deep emotions. He stared at Davina with a warm fondness, before gazing at Slims with friendship. “I know you do not ken us well, but I always give a blessin’ for the important events, and I’d like to bestow one on you now.”
Davina heard Slims’s breath catch, and she nodded. “Aye,” she whispered.
“Davina, never doubt the joy your arrival has brought the family. Never doubt our devotion to ye.” He smiled as he saw the tears in her eyes. “Slims, ye’ve been a good, honorable friend to all, and we are entrusting our beloved cousin to you.”
Davina felt Slims stiffen beside her, before his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close to his side.
Cailean raised his glass of whiskey. “May you always find peace in the moments you spend together. May kindness flavor every argument. May prosperity be a ready companion and want a distant acquaintance. And may your home, and hearts, always be filled with love.”
Sniffling, Davina leaned into Slims’s side, whispering her thanks to her cousin, as everyone raised a glass to the newlyweds, cheering for them. She marveled that such a toast, such a moment, was ever meant for her.
* * *
Hours later, Davina walked into the small cabin behind the livery and near Cailean’s house, casting a furtive glance over her shoulder to ensure her husband followed her. My husband, she thought and shook her head. Any wonder faded at the glowering sober man who trudged behind her. She looked forward, blindly standing in the middle of the cabin as she realized any exhibition of joy or eagerness on his part had been fabricated for the MacKinnons’ benefit. Now that they were alone together, he failed to smile. He would not look at her. He refused to carry her over the threshold of the cabin. She had clung to hope that this marriage would be different. That, this time, she alone would be enough. I’m the fool.
She jolted when the door closed with a thud and the latch sounded, her gaze focusing on the intimate space. In one corner was a large bed with a patchwork quilt covering it. She recognized it as Sorcha’s handiwork. In the other corner was a small kitchen area, and a stove had been lit to heat the room. A blanket instead of a door covered a doorway in the wall, and she walked to it, peering through it to see a small bed inside. With another glance over her shoulder, she saw Slims with his back to her, staring out the window.
With a huff, she slipped into the small room, intent on sleeping alone in the small bed that night. “If he thinks I’m sleeping with him tonight, he’s an eejit,” she muttered, clinging to her righteous anger, rather than focusing on the pain that would overwhelm her, if she gave it free rein. Thankfully the buttons of her dress were on the front, and she easily slipped them free.
She set it at the foot of the bed, as there was little room for a chair in the small room. She eased off her corset and crawled under the blankets, shivering at the cool sheets. Belatedly she realized the warmth of the stove in the front room would not reach her back here. However, she was determined not to gift him with anything more tonight.
Curling onto her side, she pulled the blankets over her head and finally allowed the silent tears to course down her cheeks. She buried her face in her pillow to silence her sobs, and she released her pent-up anguish. Soon she slipped into a restless sleep, dreaming of a magical wedding night, where she slept in her husband’s arms, feeling cherished and adored.
* * *
Slims stood in what had been Bears’s small cabin, staring out the window. His mind was filled with visions of the wedding ceremony. He battled a groan as he recalled his first view of Davina, beautiful in a light-blue dress with her hair pulled back in a soft bun. His fingers had itched to free her silky blond hair from its pins and to watch the beautiful mass cascade down her back. He fought a chuckle as he recalled the dyspeptic pastor, red-faced, spitting out the words of the ceremony.
Only the presence of Harold Tompkins had induced Pastor Cruikshanks to finish the ceremony and to choke out a blessing at the end. Slims sighed as he thought of the softest, most chaste kiss of his life. Closing his eyes, he remembered the silky touch of her lips against his and his battle not to deepen it.
“Fool,” he muttered to himself. He turned to look for Davina, belatedly realizing he didn’t hear her moving around the small space. He had thought she’d bustle around the kitchen or act as though she had a chore to do before they would go to bed. Frowning, he didn’t see her. Terror filled him at the thought that she had slipped out into the winter’s night, already dissatisfied at having married him. Before racing outside and sounding an alarm, he poked his head into the spare room Ewan had constructed on the back of the cabin for Bears’s daughter, Mildred.
Lassoing A Montana Heart Page 10