by Kit Morgan
“What’s the matter with ya?” Daniel said. When he didn’t get an answer he took the reins from her. “I’m driving!”
She tore her gaze from the coach as it pulled into the yard, took one look at Daniel, then jumped off the wagon to the ground. She fell to her knees and scrambled to her feet. “C.J. …” she whispered, brushing grass from her skirt. She wasn’t going to run to him, no sirree. But … she looked at the coach again as Duncan Cooke got out. And it looked like Mr. MacDonald was driving. But where was …?
She started walking.
“Rufi!” Daniel called after her. “Where ya goin’?”
She ignored him and kept walking. She heard him mutter something about deaf women followed by his feet hitting the ground. He was following her, no doubt wanting to see who their visitors were.
He caught up to her, a shotgun in his hands. “You won’t need that,” she said.
“Says who? Them’s strangers.”
“No, they’re not. That’s Duncan and Cozette Cooke.”
Daniel stopped dead in his tracks. “Whaaaaat?”
She smiled, nodded and kept going.
Daniel took off his hat, threw it in the air and yelled “Yee-haw! Don’t just stand there, let’s go say hello!” He ran right past her.
She stumbled to catch up to him. This was not how she envisioned C.J. seeing her after all this time. But then, he might not be with …
“Howdy!” Daniel shouted as they entered the barnyard and made a beeline for Duncan. “Ain’t this somethin’?”
“Good afternoon.” Duncan smiled in amusement then glanced at the shotgun in his hands. “You must be … Daniel?”
Daniel’s face broke into a wide smile. “Ya know me?”
“From your mother’s descriptions, yes.”
“Mr. Cooke!” Ma said as she came out of the barn. “What a nice surprise.” She looked at the coach. “And Mr. MacDonald!”
Dallan climbed down. “Mrs. Weaver.” He bowed, took her hand and kissed it.
She blushed. “Oh land sakes, you didn’t do none of that back in Clear Creek.”
“Forgive me my poor manners, then. I was … preoccupied.”
Ma blushed deeper and waved him off. “Where’s that lovely wife of yours?”
Duncan opened the coach’s door. “Cozette, Shona, come join us.” A hand emerged and he helped his wife disembark.
Shona came next, fanning herself with her hand. “I will never get used to this.”
“I like a good old fashioned buckboard, myself,” Ma said. “Especially on a hot day like this one.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“I told you to carry a fan,” Cozette scolded.
Shona nodded. “Next time I’ll listen.”
Rufi stood to one side, eyes glued to the coach, the door now closed. Her heart had sunk at the click of the latch.
“Miss Cucinotta,” Duncan said. “How are you?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, but still couldn’t speak. She forced a smile instead.
Mr. MacDonald watched her a moment, then approached. “How do ye fare, lass?”
“To tell the truth, I’ve been better.”
“Aye, I can see that,” he said, looking her over. “I think I have something that will help.”
Rufi wanted to run back to the wagon. Then … “What?”
“‘Tis in the coach. Why d’ye no fetch it?” He turned his attention to Daniel. “So ye’re the youngest, eh?”
“Yessir!” Daniel said happily. “And yer …” he gulped. “… yer him.”
Dallan smiled. “All depends on what ye’ve heard.”
Rufi ignored them as she walked slowly toward the duke’s coach. She reached it, put her hand on the latch, her body feeling weighed down by some unseen force, everything moving slower than normal. She pulled the latch, opened the door … and gasped.
C.J. sat in a corner wrapped in a blanket. He was pale, his face drawn. “Hello, Rufi.”
It took her a moment to get over the shock. She knew she looked bad, but he looked worse. “C.J.!” Without thinking she climbed into the coach, the door clicking behind her, and took him in her arms.
“Rufi,” he whispered.
She looked him over. “C.J., what’s happened to you?”
He smiled. It looked like it pained him. “Haven’t been myself lately. Sick. I guess …” He coughed a few times. “I guess leaving you was a mistake.”
She agreed with him, but considering his condition, it would be in poor taste to say so. “You poor thing. It’s not the influenza, is it?”
“No … I got this because … well, I’ll explain later.” He sighed, seemingly in relief. “I’ve missed you. So much.”
She took his cold hand and rubbed it. “I’ve missed you too.” Her heart began to pound in her chest like never before.
C.J. took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Ahhh.”
“What’s wrong, are you in pain?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She noted the color returning to his cheeks. “No. I think I’m getting better now.”
She picked up his other hand and rubbed it too. “Why are you here?”
He laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? You.”
She stared at him. “But … you left.”
“I know. I didn’t think you wanted to …”
“I did,” she interrupted. “I was stupid. A fool. I didn’t know my own mind. For Heaven’s sake, I thought I might be in love with Melvale,” she joked then swallowed hard.
C.J. smiled. “Everyone was in love with him. Remember Grandma thought he smelled like sugar cookies?”
She grinned. “With nutmeg.”
C.J. laughed. “I never noticed that.” He coughed, pulled his hands back and held hers instead. “Rufi, I’ve come here to ask you something.”
Her breathing stopped. Everything stopped. She no longer heard the conversations outside the coach. There was just the two of them, as if they were the only people alive in the world. “Yes?”
He cupped her face with his hands. “We haven’t known each other long, that’s true. “I wanted to court you before, but now …”
Her lower lip trembled. Please don’t tell me you came all this way to say you were sorry.
“… there’s no need for that. Marry me, Rufi. Marry me today.”
She blinked a few times. “What?!”
“Marry me. I have to … get back.”
She made no attempt to hide her confusion. “Back to what? I don’t understand.”
He traced her cheek with a thumb. “C’mere, honey.”
She leaned toward him. His kiss was gentle and surprisingly warm. Did he have a fever?
He broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes. “Rufi Cucinotta, will you marry me? Will you be my wife?”
Her tears came before she could think to stop them. “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh, C.J., yes. But how can we get married today?”
He wiped her cheeks and smiled. “Trust me.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Calvin and Benjamin burst through the kitchen’s back door, took one look at C.J. with the Cookes and MacDonalds and stopped short. “So it’s true – ya really are here,” Calvin said, more to himself than anyone else. He walked over to the table and opened his mouth to speak.
“Don’t you dare, Calvin Weaver!” Rufi barked before he could.
He looked at her. He hadn’t noticed her sitting next to C.J. – actually, in his lap – but there she was. “Well. Um … I see we have company.” He nodded at Duncan. “Yer Grace.”
“Let’s not be formal,” he said. “Duncan is fine.”
Calvin nodded back. “Mr. and Mrs. MacDonald.”
“Mr. Weaver,” Mr. MacDonald smiled. “Call me Dallan.”
Calvin nodded as his eyes went back to Rufi. “So, um …?” He shrugged.
She took a deep breath. “C.J. has asked me to marry him.”
Benjamin stepped forward. “Congratulations. That is, if�
��n ya said yes.”
“She did,” C.J. informed him. “We’ll marry right away.”
Calvin laughed. “Not much chance of that. Pastor James is visitin’ kinfolk back east …” He caught himself and looked at Rufi and C.J. again “I, um … glad yer gonna get hitched, though.”
C.J. nodded. “So am I.”
“Ya feelin’ all right?” Benjamin asked. “Ya don’t look so good.”
“Been poorly lately,” he agreed. “But getting better by the minute.” He looked at Rufi and smiled, as if she was the one curing whatever ailed him. And maybe she was.
Calvin bit his lip again. He needed to keep his big mouth shut, lest he widen the rift he’d caused between himself and Rufi. At least he’d told Cyrus to let Duncan and Dallan know his predicament before leaving Clear Creek. He never expected them to show up at the farm with C.J., but hey, he’d take it.
“What in tarnation is going on?” Arlan entered the kitchen, looked around the table and spotted Duncan. “Well, I’ll be.”
“Hello, Mr. Weaver,” Duncan stood and reached across the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”
Arlan shook his hand and looked him over. “For some reason I imagined ya was shorter.”
Duncan laughed. “I hope I’m not a disappointment.” He glanced at Dallan. “And what about this one? Though Tom doesn’t have him in too many stories, I’m sure you recognize him.”
Arlan grinned. “Ya must be the Scotsman.” He offered his hand, and Dallan stood and shook it. “Tarnation, but ya are a tall drink of water.” He looked at Rufi, more specifically where she was sitting, and his eyebrows shot up. “And you must be the notorious Mr. Branson.”
C.J. reached a shaky hand across the table. “Notorious, eh?”
Arlan shook it, more gently. “Well, to hear Benjamin tell it. Calvin’s ‘fraid to even mention ya, but I heard ya licked him purty good.”
Calvin groaned and rolled his eyes at Benjamin, who just shrugged.
“It ain’t catchin’, is it?” Arlan asked. “Whatever it is ya got?”
“No, it’s not.” C.J. glanced at Rufi. “Except for …”
“What?” Calvin snapped, then quickly ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, um, why would Rufi get it?”
“The bird,” Duncan told them. “They were with it the longest. Sometimes these creatures carry things we can catch, but it’s rare.”
“Like a bird sickness of some sort?” Charity asked as she brought a plate of cookies to the table. “I remember reading about such things years ago, in a book about Africa.”
“Something like that.” Duncan reached for a cookie. “But he’ll be fine.” He looked at Rufi. “You’ve lost weight, I noticed. That’s one of the symptoms. Loss of appetite, listlessness, depression, the body begins to grow weaker …”
“Yes,” Rufi said, alarmed.
“Not to worry,” Mrs. MacDonald chimed in. “We brought something in case you had any symptoms. You’ll be fine.”
“Thank the Lord!” Ma said.
Bella entered the kitchen, followed by various shouts, screams and squeals, to which she responded with a string of sharp-tongued Italian.
Duncan laughed. “The brothers and sisters I take it?”
Rufi nodded ruefully. “Yes. All of them.”
“Bella, take them outside,” Ma said. “We’ll take care of the introductions there. But first, Rufi and C.J. have a few things to discuss with the family.” She gave them a pointed look as Bella began to usher her siblings and children out. “I’m happy you’re here, C.J.. To come all this way to propose, in your condition, tells me you love Rufi very much.”
“And I love him too,” Rufi said, squeezing him tight. “More than anything!”
Ma nodded as she looked around at the others in the crowded kitchen. “I won’t lie. I’ve dreamed, yet dreaded this day.”
“Ya knew he’d come for her, Ma?” Daniel asked.
“I did.” She stared at the table, tears in her eyes. “He’d come to marry her and take her away.”
Calvin stiffened. “But Ma, they love each other.” He looked at Rufi. “And if my sister in-law wants to marry this man and leave with him, then … well, I ain’t getting’ in her way no more.”
Rufi smiled at him, tears in her eyes.
“That’s all well and good,” Arlan said, squinting at C.J. “But sir, I don’t know ya. I only met ya a couple of minutes ago. I trust my family’s judgment as to yer character, but good character don’t mean there’ll always be food on the table. Can ya provide for Rufi?”
C.J. glanced at Duncan, clearly trying to hide a smile. “Yes, sir. I can.” He arched his back, stretching. “More than you know.”
Arlan crossed his arms. “Prove it.”
Calvin noticed Dallan smiling at Arlan, then leaned past Duncan to get a look at C.J. Was he enjoying this?
C.J. helped Rufi off his lap and stood, looking steadier than ever. “If I have any character flaws, it’s this. I haven’t told you all there is to know about me.”
“What?” Calvin snapped to attention.
Arlan’s eyes narrowed further. “Start talkin’.”
C.J. shrugged. “My full name is Carlyle James Branson. My father and mother are deceased. My grandfather is Rufus Branson of Branson Mills, Branson Textiles, Branson Flour & Meal, RJB Mining, Harrisburg Steel Works, Pocono & Branson Lumber, Branson Petroleum and the American Seaboard Railroad which runs from New Hampshire all the way past Washington City. Oh, and we recently purchased Mantooth & Sons Granite Quarry of Chelmsford, Massachusetts. Its proximity to our rails makes it a good investment, Grandfather says.”
The Weavers’ mouths hung open, including Rufi’s. She sat, stunned at his words.
C.J. sighed and went on. “I mentioned I was educated at the University of Maryland – I graduated with high honors. I finished up my studies at Princeton. I’ve been helping manage Grandfather’s businesses out of Baltimore and will be taking over for him so he can retire. He’s looking forward to spending all year in Denver – the dry air is good for his lungs.” He looked down at the table.
Calvin blinked a few times. “Ya … ya mean yer rich?”
“Yes.”
Rufi looked at Calvin, at C.J., then promptly fell face-first onto the kitchen table.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. MacDonald commented. “I think she fainted.”
“She ain’t the only one,” Daniel said.
Sure enough, Harlan was busy fanning Ma’s face as she was slumped against him. “Ain’t you just full of surprises?” he told C.J., who was patting Rufi’s cheek. “But you’ve still got a problem, son. Won’t you have to tell your granddaddy ya can’t make it back for a spell?”
“Why?” C.J. asked.
“On account there ain’t no one around here to marry you,” Harlan said.
Ma came to. “What happened?”
“We knew this news might be upsetting,” Duncan said. “I do apologize.”
“For what?” Ma said. “That the man’s rich? That doesn’t make us like him any less. It’s fine. Now what’s this about them not getting hitched?”
“That’s no a problem,” Dallan stood. “I can marry them.”
Rufi blinked up at the Scotsman. “How? How can you marry us? You’re not a preacher.”
“On the contrary,” Mrs. MacDonald said. “He’s licensed back home.”
“More than qualified, in America or Europe,” Duncan added.
The Weavers glanced at one another. “Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Ma asked.
Dallan shrugged. “There was no need.”
“I’m afraid Rufi and I must marry and get back to Baltimore,” C.J. said. “I hate to be so bound and determined to take Rufi away, but business demands it. And we need to help Grandfather finish relocating to Denver … to take the cure. Tuberculosis, you see.”
“Oh my … I see,” Calvin said. He looked at Rufi. “Baltimore, huh? Ya ready for that?”
She nodded. “It s
hould be an adventure.” She turned to C.J. “I had no idea you …”
“Were a wealthy businessman?” he finished for her. “In truth, it’s all Grandfather’s. He wanted me to wed before he died, to see that I had a good woman at my side. Not that he’ll necessarily die – the Denver air is really supposed to help – but he didn’t want to take chances.”
“Rufi’s got a good head on her shoulders, that’s for sure,” Ma said. “More important, she’s not greedy.” She smiled at Arlan. “Sounds like he’s got more money than you and Samijo.”
Samijo smiled at C.J. and shrugged. “I was sort of an heiress.”
He glanced around the table, then laughed. “And you think I’m the one full of surprises?” Everyone joined him, and once the laughter got started it was hard to stop.
Rufi noticed Mrs. MacDonald watching C.J., then nod at her husband. He nodded back. “Best we get this done,” the Scot said over the laughs and snorts.
“Land sakes, what’s the rush?” Ma asked. “The man already told us why he needs to leave soon.”
“I need to leave too, Mrs. Weaver,” Dallan said, looking around the table. “Ye’ve two hours to prepare.” He took his wife’s hand and left the house.
“Those are some of the strangest folks I’ve ever met,” Harlan said. “But they’re sure handy in a pinch, I can tell ya that.”
“That they are,” Duncan agreed.
Harlan looked at Rufi. “Well, are you up to this?”
“Yes,” she said, then looked into C.J.’s eyes. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
He took her hands and kissed them. “It wasn’t me you doubted, Rufi. It was yourself. I’ve done it too, more times than I can count. I think everyone in this room has. But I’m here now and I’m going to make you my wife.” He glanced at the others. “I’m so sorry about the rush.”
“Is your grandpa all you have?” Ma asked.
“Yes, he’s my only living relative.”
“Then there’s no need for an apology. Any one of us would be doing the same in your shoes. Ain’t that right?” Nods and words of agreement made their way around the table. Ma smiled and turned back to them. “Then let’s get you both ready for a wedding.”