The train whistle announced its arrival as it thundered toward town. Suzanne stood looking up and down the street, but there still was no sign of Cyrus Kennedy.
Cyrus stepped out of the telegraph office, holster strapped around his hips. It had been several years since the last time he’d worn his guns other than on the range. After hiring the Pinkerton in town yesterday, he’d learned most of what Beau told him about Suzanne Butler was true.
Logan Granger, the Pinkerton who’d found his rustled cattle, spoke highly of Suzanne. He said she was excellent with children, and he’d had no complaints about his daughter being taught by her until his wife insisted his daughter attend school. As far as Suzanne being a runaway bride, Granger had little knowledge and suggested Cyrus contact the Chicago office to further investigate.
It was after he’d returned to the Dodge House that Cyrus requested his guns from the hotel safe. He’d also asked which room Suzanne was in so he could keep an eye on her. If the story about Regan Murray proved to be true, he wanted to be able to protect her from the evil that inhabited the man.
It was in that moment, as he sat in the hallway in the still of the night, he’d determined to take action on Granger’s suggestion as soon as the telegraph office opened. He’d send a query to Pinkerton himself to find out if Regan Murray had anything to do with a rancher in Montana by the name of Butler.
That was one of the two telegrams he’d sent this morning. The other was to Cordell, telling his younger brother when they’d be expected to arrive, instructing Cordell to have a few of the ranch hands with him at the station. Cordell was to leave Johnny at the ranch, no matter how much the boy bellyached about it. He knew Cordell would understand that something was wrong. He’d probably ride out to keep an eye out for the train as well as any trouble.
The train whistle shrilled, and Cyrus sprinted across the street toward the railroad station. Taking the steps two at a time, he found Suzanne sitting nervously near her trunks as the train reached the city limits of Dodge.
“Miss Butler…Suzanne…I do apologize…for my delay.” Cyrus tipped his hat, catching his breath every few words.
“I have to admit, you did have me a bit concerned that you may have changed your mind and decided to ride with your crew.” Suzanne looked at him through lowered lashes. “That is, until your brother gave me your message. Is everything all right? You look like you haven’t slept a wink.”
“Yes, well, here’s the train. We can talk about it later.” Cyrus stepped back, his hand at Suzanne’s elbow. Heat radiated through him, followed by the sting of desire.
Even after Beau’s findings, Cyrus wasn’t about to turn Suzanne Butler away. If the story of her connection to Murray were true, he wouldn’t take the chance of handing her over to the man. He couldn’t have lived with his conscience. He was intrigued by her. He wanted to know more about her. There was something about the way she smiled when she didn’t think he was looking. And the way she—oh hell with it!
“Stay here. I want to make sure all your trunks are put aboard,” Cyrus said as the last of the passengers stepped from the train and trunks were carted off to the cargo compartments. Making his way through the crowd to where Suzanne’s trunks stood, he spoke with several of the men loading them into a car.
“Now, if anyone should ask if you’ve seen or heard of a Montana Sue or Suzanne Butler, you never have. Do we have an agreement?” Cyrus asked pulling several greenbacks from his pocket. The men nodded, turning the currency over for inspection. “Good!”
Cyrus waited until the last trunk was loaded then walked back to Suzanne as she waited on the platform. She’d gone back to wearing the prim-looking outfit she’d worn on the first night they’d met. As matronly as the dress was supposed to be, it didn’t hide her curves. In fact, it made him itch to slowly pull the pins from her hair followed by removing each and every layer of clothing one piece at a time. As appealing as she looked, he’d much rather see Suzanne Butler in a pair of britches and a man’s shirt—his shirt—than dressed up like a Christmas turkey. Then maybe he wouldn’t find her so damn irresistible.
“All aboard!”
“That’s us.” Cyrus escorted Suzanne toward the dining car, the rumblings in his gut turning his thoughts away from her and onto food instead.
“Shouldn’t we—” Suzanne asked, pointing back to the regular class cars.
“No, we’ll need breakfast and possibly lunch. This may be the shorter ride, but as soon as we arrive in Burrton, we’ll be on the next train to Fort Worth. There may be a wait between meals today, and I don’t want to start off with you thinking I can’t provide for you.”
“Are you sure you want to go to all this expense? I mean, I’m sure we won’t perish if we don’t eat for a few more hours,” Suzanne said, hesitating as he guided her to the dining car entrance.
“Quite sure,” Cyrus said, knowing full well he’d have more than enough privacy and closeness with the seductive Suzanne Butler in the coming days. More than he could muster a defense against it if he wasn’t careful.
Suzanne held her breath, looking up at Cyrus as he escorted her into the dining car. The compartment was beautiful with its ornate windows and cherry-wood chairs and tables decked out in what appeared to be china and crystal. Even Mother would have been impressed with the simple elegance.
“Cyrus, this is—” Suzanne whispered, gazing at the passengers dressed in finery she’d once had access to. Feeling a bit shabby, she smoothed her hand down over her travel outfit. Comparing herself to the other ladies with their hats and jewels, she looked plain and simple. And totally out of her element.
“Incredible?” Cyrus asked, his smile reaching the depths of his brown eyes. Obviously, he was very pleased with himself, and as much as she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, Suzanne couldn’t possibly sit and eat in the same car as the aristocratic passengers sitting and chatting about heaven knew what. This wasn’t her way of life anymore.
“No.” She swallowed, turning away from the glamour that had been her life at one time. “Expensive and unnecessary. I don’t see any reason to go to all this expense for a few hours’ ride to Kansas City.”
Cyrus chuckled then took her elbow, guiding her toward an empty table in the middle of the car. “Miss Butler, I believe you deserve special treatment. You’ll soon find that life on the ranch won’t be this elegant, so please do take advantage of all that I offer on the return to the Double K.”
Sitting in the chair, Suzanne smoothed her hair into place, her hand trembling. Sitting on the other one she had to do something to keep from running out and back onto the platform. If the dining car was any indication of the Kennedy generosity, she was in deep trouble. Everyone who was ever rich and nice to her wanted something, only to try to break her down once they got it.
“Cyrus, while I appreciate what you are doing—” Suzanne began, pausing as the train lurched forward. Too late to turn back now. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but to go to all this expense has taken me by surprise.”
“Then it’s time you learn how things will be once we arrive at the ranch.” Cyrus smiled and every apprehension she had melted away like butter. “The Double K has the best of the best in ranch hands. Not one of my men has ever been disloyal. A few of the boys have a place of their own on Kennedy land because they are family men. They are family, and we treat them as such. Now you’re part of the family, Suzanne, until the time comes that you feel we no longer need you. Or you no longer need us. Which, I hope for my son’s sake, won’t be for many years to come.”
Families? That means other women and possibly more children. Surely, he doesn’t expect me to teach all the boys and girls on the ranch as well. As for staying on, well, time will be the judge of that.
“Are there more children on the ranch that need schooling besides your boy?” Suzanne inquired, her voice a trembling a bit. Please don’t let him think the worst of me for asking. “I’m not sure if there’d be enough room for—”
“I can assure you that the ranch hands have their own ideas about schooling their children in their homes. We, my brothers and I, made sure to hire educated men. Educated men generally have educated wives,” Cyrus informed her, his body stiffening for a split second.
She’d insulted him, unintentionally. Suzanne would have to be more careful in the future.
Suzanne thought for a moment, sipping the delicious roasted coffee in her dainty cup. “Hmm, well, then. Why would you need to hire a tutor if there are women on the ranch readily available? After all, it would have saved you all the time and trouble of riding north, not to mention the expense.”
“You have this aversion when it comes to spending money, even when it isn’t your own. I wonder, why is that?” Cyrus laughed, shaking his head. “Nonetheless, yes, you are quite right about possibly hiring a childless woman. Or I could have had one of the hands ask their wife if they would be interested in adding another child to their lot. But then who would be there to take care of the other household requirements that need to be met? Asking such a thing of my men would have disrupted their lives. Johnny is my responsibility, not theirs.”
“Yes, I see what you mean. And I don’t have an aversion to spending money if it is for a worthy reason.” Suzanne looked at him through her lowered lashes, contemplating her next words slowly. “So, am I to understand that these women are totally capable of teaching their children, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, and cooking each and every day. Not to mention any other wifely duties her husband may require of her. And while all of this is going on, her husband sits upon a horse, conversing with his fellow ranch hands, and chasing an occasional stray.
“Is this what you truly expect of me, Mr. Kennedy? If I am wrong, please, by all means, correct me now.” Suzanne stared at him. She was wrong, and she knew it. So why in the world would she bait him like she was? “I’d like to be prepared in knowing what is fully expected of me. Am I to be everything a wife and mother would be to her husband and child? Our arrangement was made rather quickly, after all.”
Cyrus cleared his throat, glancing out the window as the landscape swept by. Evidently, he was searching for an appropriate answer that he thought would appease her. Well, let him try because she knew what it was like on the ranch. And yes, she was riding him a bit harder right now than she maybe should. But she had to know where she stood and exactly what was expected of her. She had to know what kind of man Cyrus Kennedy was.
“I see your point, and for some men, that may be true. In the Kennedy household, it is quite different. My wife Maggie and I were equals on everything. She could rope and ride with the best of them, and she was damn good at it. The best to ever set foot on the Double K, I might add.” Cyrus glared at Suzanne. “So you see, Miss Butler, all your ideas of how men in the west treat their women is a misconception, born of dime store novels. I hope this clears things up for you.”
Cyrus stood, his napkin plopping down upon the white tablecloth. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a breath of air.”
Wife? There’s a Mrs. Cyrus Kennedy?
5
Keeping his temper in check, Cyrus walked through the dining car and out onto the platform between two cars. Gripping the railing hard, he squeezed it until he felt his fingers cramp. The coolness of the wind cooled him down a bit, but only a bit. Going over what happened for a few minutes, he chuckled out loud, the sound riding along with the wind as the train moved on down the tracks.
Suzanne does have a point. I’ve forgotten about a woman’s sensibilities and capabilities. Suzanne made it clear she wasn’t going to do my bidding because she’s only a woman. I’ll be damned if she isn’t a woman like many others on the ranch who could and would do it all if the need arose. And not because it was what I expected of her. She’d do it because she bloody well wanted to. At least, that’s what I think she was implying.
It had been well over two years since his wife’s death, closer to three if he counted the days Maggie lay in their bed suffering from pain as the infection from the snake bite invaded her body. And he’d grieved every minute of every day of those years. He’d allowed Johnny to be with the hands and horses far too much, pushing most of his schooling to the backside of life. He’d broken the promises he’d made to Maggie.
Magdalene Elizabeth Mallard had been the love of his life. She had been his match on every level, and he married her the moment James Mallard gave his permission. The only woman, other than his mother, who could and would put him in his place. Maggie had kept a tight rein on the finances, unapologetically advising him of her opinion on overseeing the ranch without him asking for the input when she thought it necessary. Her strict guidance was one of the reasons the Double K had become the largest cattle ranch along the Brazos River.
Then came the fateful hot August day when Maggie had been out riding without him or one of the boys after a wayward calf when her horse snorted then reared. She landed in a nest of rattlers in the brush while the spooked blue roan headed back to the ranch like a bolt of lightning. By the time Cyrus, Beau, and Cord had found her, she lay half unconscious in the late afternoon sun, canteen empty, her jeans sliced up to her thigh, and two deep puncture wounds in her calf.
Cyrus had picked her up and ridden to the ranch while Beau rode for the doctor. Doc Martin dressed the wound in gunpowder, salt, and yolk. The poultice did little to help. Maggie became overcome with fever and was prone to fitful ramblings and mumbling gibberish about love everlasting and angels visiting.
In the final days, it hadn’t been the snake bite itself that had taken his beloved wife; it was an infection. Hours before she closed her eyes and took her last breath, Maggie asked to see Johnny. When Cyrus came to stay by her side, her small, weak hand in his, she made him promise to find happiness. He’d nodded, telling her he would love her always. She smiled, said she loved him, and then the angels came and took her.
It had been difficult enough to bury his love; it had been harder to tell their young son he no longer had his mother to hold him and sing to him each night. It turned out that it was the promise to find happiness he found the hardest to keep and one that he avoided at all costs, becoming absorbed in the ranch. Cyrus thought he’d found the only woman who could light a fire in him. Since meeting Suzanne Butler, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
And now he needed to swallow a bit of pride and go back inside and make amends before he lost Suzanne between here and Burrton.
Mustering a bit of courage and swallowing that lump of Texas pride as well, he walked back into the dining room, his gaze going immediately to where she sat alone, staring out the window. For all the glitz and glamour that made up the car, it was only Suzanne’s shining light he saw. Stray strands of ginger-colored hair that fell around her face flickered like little flames. Her hands were under the table, folded neatly upon her lap. She sat straight in the chair, inches from the back of the lushly upholstered padding. The boots on her feet were barely worn, and he’d bet they were new, much like the matronly outfit she wore that did nothing to hide her curves. It was the same one she’d had on the night she’d fallen into his arms. The night they’d had their first meal together. The first night he’d felt an urge for another woman since Maggie’s death.
His breath hitched in his chest, and his heart skipped more than a beat. Suzanne turned toward him, their gazes locking onto each other. She smiled, her mouth inviting him. Fingers tucked that stray hair back into place, and his body caught on fire. Suddenly, there were only the two of them. All outside conversations gone. He moved toward her, wishing he could take her in his arms and make love to her. Claim her for his own. But he couldn’t. She wasn’t that type of woman, even if she had worked at the Lady Gay.
Maybe one day, but not now. Now I must make amends and restore her faith in my intentions.
He stood next to her, hat in hand, gazing down into her green eyes. “Excuse me, mind if I join you?”
Suzanne watched Cyrus through a watery gaze as he made his way back th
rough the dining car. In the past five or ten minutes, or however long it was, as she’d lost track. She’d already determined to take the first train from Burrton as far east as her money would take her. There was too much pain and anger in Cyrus Kennedy, as there had once been in herself not too long ago. Suzanne didn’t believe she caused it, and she already had too much to lose without risking more. Her heart wasn’t one of those things she was willing to take a chance with again. And if things didn’t change with Cyrus’s frame of mind, she’d end up a cold and unfeeling woman taking care of a bitter old man.
And what of his wife? Surely Mrs. Kennedy would expect her to do more than her husband agreed to. And why hadn’t he spoken more of her needs? He’d only mentioned her once in the past few days. With a wife in the picture, everything changed.
He’d made it sound like he was a widower, not a married man! Had he lied? How could he be so insensitive?
Yet her resolve began to melt away the closer he came toward her. Well over six foot, Cyrus Kennedy held a quiet confidence that seemed to be wavering a bit.
He’s unsure of himself. Did I do that?
“Excuse me, mind if I join you?” His voice was soft and humble.
“That all depends,” Suzanne replied, feeling the advantage shift in her favor. She watched Cyrus retake his seat at the table with little of the pomp and circumstance that he had vacated with.
“I behaved like an—” Cyrus glanced out the window then back at her, his eyes filled with a sadness that bruised her heart. “I apologize for my shameful attitude. I would very much like to start again. If you are agreeable.”
Suzanne thought for a moment, contemplating her options. If she agreed, then she’d be in a place that would offer security from her father—she hoped so anyway. On the other hand, if she decided the words and their meaning were unacceptable, and she went further east, she’d be completely on her own without a roof over her head or a penny in her possession to claim. Well, there was only one thing to do.
Brides Along the Chisholm Trail Boxset Page 27