by P. Creeden
“Do you know how hard it was for me to find you? It’s a good thing that you’ve got a distinct look about you. When I would describe you to conductors and ticket salesmen, they’d remember you, even if it had been more than a day or two since they saw you.”
Maxwell’s heart squeezed in his chest as he stepped to the side of the house and away from the front porch. One of the steps had a distinct squeal to it that would give him away if he stepped upon it. The last thing he needed was to let the man in the house know Maxwell was coming. He stepped under the side window that was open a few inches to allow the breeze in on the north side of the house.
“Jason,” said Colette’s shaky voice. “Why don’t we leave these good people alone and head outside? I’ll go wherever it is that you want to go, but these people have nothing to do with what’s going on between you and me. No need to hurt anyone.”
The man huffed. “That would have been just fine if this boy hadn’t attacked me. He needed a crowning.”
Slowly, Maxwell pulled his pistol out of his holster. The weight of it in his hands helped pull away some of the anger surging through him. The man had chased Colette all the way to Colorado from New Jersey? And now he’d crowned Thomas? Maxwell ground his back teeth as he saw red spots flash before his vision. After pulling off his hat with his free hand, Maxwell raised himself up so that he could peer through the bottom corner of the window and into the darkened room of the house. He could make out the shape of a woman—Colette—standing, hands up in surrender, trying to appease the man. On the ground just behind her, Missy held Thomas’s head in her lap as the whites of her eyes widened in terror. The man in front of Colette had a pistol in his hand and waved it around as he spoke.
“It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen me, Colette. Aren’t you going to say that you miss me? Aren’t you going to offer me a drink or a place to sit?” he asked, pointing toward the kitchen with his pistol.
Maxwell’s back molars ached from him biting down so hard on them. If the man wasn’t waving around a gun, it wouldn’t have been hard for him to make his way in there and take the man down. If only Thomas had come to get him instead of trying to attack the man by himself. Slowly, Maxwell ducked down below the window again.
“Of course,” Colette said, her voice still shaking. “Of course, I missed you, Jason. Would you like to have a seat? Could I fetch you some tea?”
That protective instinct in Maxwell rose up again. He didn’t like hearing her sound afraid. He didn’t like what this man, Jason, had already done to Thomas. To Missy. To Maxwell’s whole family. Because in just a few days, that’s what Colette had already become to him—family. He opened his revolver and counted the cartridges again just to be sure he was fully loaded. Then he closed it and started toward the back of the house.
When Jason smiled at her, Colette’s stomach turned. She’d had a bit of nausea each morning before breakfast and had done her best to hide the fact from both Missy and Thomas, but she felt that Missy had been eyeing her funny. If she had, though, she hadn’t said a word to Colette or asked her any questions. It had been three weeks since she’d found out she was with child, which would make the child well over a month along in her womb. Her stomach hadn’t yet betrayed her except by the occasional bouts of indigestion or nausea.
But the way that Jason made her feel was entirely different. She did her best to return his smile, but it felt wrong on her lips, then, when he nodded, she said in a sickly-sweet voice, “I’ll fetch that tea right away. Have a seat. Make yourself at home.”
The moment she turned her back on Jason, she rushed over and helped Missy bring Thomas to his feet. The boy’s eyes were unfocused, and he groaned, but at least he was conscious. The two of them helped him to the kitchen table where they sat him in a chair. Missy’s wide eyes met hers, they were frightened but determined. “You aren’t going with that man,” she whispered. “You can’t.”
Colette nodded as her hands shook and she attempted to give Missy a reassuring smile as she said, “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you or Thomas again. I just have to do what he says and everything will be all right.”
Missy reached out and grabbed her by the arm as Colette turned to get the tea. “No,” the older woman said, shaking her head. “That’s not the answer. He’s like a petulant child. He’s having a tantrum right now because you won’t give him his way. But he won’t be satisfied when you do give in. He will never be satisfied.”
“But...” Colette’s voice cracked, and she swallowed hard against the sob that rose up. “What should I do?”
A frown pulled Missy’s lips downward as wrinkles appeared in her brow. She shook her head. “I don’t know, but don’t give in. Don’t give him what he wants.”
“But he might hurt you... or Thomas again. I can’t have that.” A bit of determination made its way into her voice as she straightened her spine. No. She couldn’t let him hurt anyone again. Not Thomas. Not Missy. And if she went with him and did as he wanted, how would he react when he found out she was with child? She swallowed again, a hand over her navel. She needed to tell him. Now. Maybe he would have some respect for his brother’s baby. She turned around and took the steps she needed to make it back to the parlor.
He peered up at her, frowning. “Where’s my tea?”
She shook her head. “I want you to leave these good people alone. You can’t do whatever you want, Jason.”
Sneering, he stepped forward and grabbed her by the arm. “Who’s going to stop me?”
Instead of going limp at the pain, like she’d done in the past, she took both her hands and shoved him, hard.
Taken aback, Jason lost his footing and took a step away from her, releasing her arm. He blinked at her with a confused expression on his face as he lifted his pistol toward her.
She narrowed her eyes at him, even though fear gripped her. “You won’t shoot your brother’s wife, will you? Not when she’s pregnant with his child?”
The confused expression on Jason’s face twisted more, and he blinked again, tilting his head and looking down at her midsection. “You’re... you’re with child?”
Feeling empowered by his reaction, Colette stepped forward and pulled Jason’s gun from his limp hand. “I am. I found out the very day that John died. And I will not raise my child in the hands of a ruffian, like you’ve been behaving. I know that you’re better than this, Jason. You’re a better man than this. You don’t need to chase a woman across the country. You are handsome and strong and can make a woman very happy as a wife, but you cannot force a woman to become your wife. And you shouldn’t need to.”
Slowly, the twisted look of confusion on his face became a frown as he glared at her. “How do I know anything you’re saying is true? You don’t look like you’re with child. And even if you were sullied in such a way, why would you tell me now? Who would want you? You’ll be a pariah. No man wants a woman who is carrying another man’s child.”
A sob tightened in Colette’s throat. Jason was right. She’d always felt exactly the same way. Even though there were men like Maxwell around who were willing to take on a widow as a wife, would he really want one who was tainted with another man’s child? Who would?
“You’re wrong,” a deep male voice said from behind them. Maxwell stood in the doorway of the kitchen; his gun trained on Jason. He made his way over to Colette and pulled Jason’s pistol from her hands and then placed his own in the holster. “There is a man who would still want a woman carrying another man’s child. This man. I would want her—no, I do want her.”
Chapter 12
Colette blinked at Maxwell in the light of his confession. “You... you do?”
He briefly met eyes with Colette and he nodded before returning his glare to Jason. “I was going to tell you tonight that I think we should get married. What you’ve just said doesn’t change a thing about how I feel for you.”
Tears stung the backs of Colette’s eyes as a sob bubbled up. How was this possible?
She’d already been feeling as though she and Maxwell had grown closer, but she wasn’t sure how he’d respond when he found out about her secret. Now she knew. And her heart swelled with even more affection for him.
He frowned toward her as she bawled. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
She nodded, laughing suddenly through the tears. “Everything’s all right—better than all right.”
A smile tugged his lips sideways as he turned back toward the task at hand. Jason stood there with his hands up in surrender, a frown twisting his lips and several wrinkles between his brows. “You’d want her... defiled with another man’s child? It’s my brother’s child and I wouldn’t even want that.”
Maxwell growled. “And that just shows you what kind of man you are. If your affection for her rises and falls on the whims of nature, then it’s not love, is it?”
Jason blinked as his eyes went wide. “You... You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re crazy. No man would want this. There’s nothing wrong with me. You’re the one who is strange.”
Shaking his head, Maxwell said, “Believe what you want, sir. But I’d appreciate it if you’d step out of my house.”
“Maxwell!” Thomas called, suddenly on his feet in the kitchen but pale as a ghost. “Be careful. He’s got a gun.”
Maxwell frowned, his gaze shooting toward his brother. “It’s all taken care of, Thomas. I’ve got this. You rest.” Then he turned his attention back toward Jason. “There’s an east bound train arriving in town at 6 p.m. sharp. If you’ll let me see you off on it, I won’t arrest you for what you’ve done here today.”
A sneer twisted Jason’s lip as he turned a glare toward Colette again. “You want her. Take her.” He spit in her direction. “Dirty trollop.”
A gasp escaped Colette’s lips as she found herself stepping forward, ready to slap her own brother-in-law. But Maxwell stepped in front of her and punched the man, clear across the jaw. Jason fell to the hardwood floor, sprawling at first before he caught himself. With dazed eyes, he looked up at the two of them, blood seeping from a cut on his lip.
A growl escaped Maxwell again. “You will not talk about my bride that way.”
Frowning, Jason scrambled up to his feet again. He spit once more, his saliva mixed with blood. “Fine. I’ll be on that train. But can I have my gun back?”
Maxwell looked at the second pistol in his hand, then he offered it to Colette, who took it with surprise. Once Maxwell had set it into her hands, he shook his head at Jason. “It’s her gun now. It’s the least you owe her for all that you’ve done.”
Jason’s frown deepened as his hands fisted at his side. He leveled one last glare at Colette then turned for the door and shook his head. “Fine. I don’t need it anyway.”
Colette stood there with the revolver lying across both her hands and watched Jason leave without looking back. Maxwell followed, but turned to smile at her on the threshold. “I’ll be back for dinner after I see him on the train. Then we’ll have that discussion I promised.”
Swallowing hard, Colette nodded. He winked at her before shutting the door. Relief flooded her and prickled along her shoulders. Was it really over? Would Jason really give up just because she was pregnant with his brother’s child? Was Maxwell being truthful when he said that he wanted her, even in her condition?
“You should put that away with your things,” Missy said, suddenly standing beside her. “Not many women have revolvers. Do you know how to shoot it?”
“Maxwell taught me,” Colette whispered.
A smile spread across Missy’s lips. “Of course, he did.”
“He taught me to shoot, too,” Thomas said from the chair in the kitchen. “He’s a good teacher.”
“Yes, he is,” Colette said wistfully as she looked toward the door, suddenly full of doubt. Was it really fair that she ask this great man to father a child that wasn’t his? Would he truly be all right with it, or would he regret it later? Would he hate her and the child years from now when things didn’t turn out the way he hoped?
“I know what that look means,” Missy said softly as she set a hand on Colette’s shoulder. “You’re afraid. You’re afraid that Maxwell didn’t mean what he said when he declared that he was fine with marrying you even though you carry another man’s child.”
Colette’s vision blurred as tears filled her eyes but cleared again when she blinked them and freed them to run down her cheeks. She nodded toward Missy.
Missy wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “No fear for that. I promise you. Maxwell’s father took me in when I was in the exact same condition as you. Maxwell has never treated me as anything but his mother. Has never treated Thomas as anything but his brother. I know for a fact that he will never treat your child as anything but his own. He is a good man. A rare man—just like his father.”
Her heart skipping a beat, Colette shook her head and blinked at the older woman. “You’re... You...” she wanted to ask a question but wasn’t sure how to say it.
Missy laughed and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “We are his family. His real family no matter what anyone else might say. And you are a part of his family—our family too. Provided of course that you say yes to his proposal.”
The laughter that bubbled up from the well of Colette’s core surprised her. “I love him,” was her answer.
“Then all you have to do is tell him yes when he comes home,” Missy said with a smile.
It was nearly dark by the time Maxwell reached the homestead. He’d waited until the train was completely out of sight before turning his back on it. The last thing he ever wanted to see was that man’s twisted face again. The disturbed man had continued to cast aspirations upon Colette for most of the way back to the train station but had settled on mumbling them after Maxwell had leveled a strong glare at him. The scant bit of light behind Maxwell illuminated the whitewashed boards of the house. Smoke rose from the stack, declaring that a good supper was likely made at Missy and maybe Colette’s hands. His mouth watered at the thought. Light from the window shone on someone sitting on the front step of the porch. Maxwell’s first thought was that Thomas was there, whittling, like he should have been, but as he drew closer, the person stood, and the silhouette was distinctly feminine. Distinctly Colette.
His heart fluttered in his chest as he drew near, and she stepped forward meeting him a few yards still from the house. He frowned as she wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting for me. You should be inside and not out here catching a chill.” He stepped forward and rubbed her arms.
The fading light caught in her blue eyes making them look more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen. Then she smiled and they crinkled in the corners. “I couldn’t wait. I wanted to meet you on the road here. I wanted to run all the way to the train station, but Missy wouldn’t let me. I just wanted to tell you something.”
His frowned deepened as he kept his hands on her shoulders. The stood close enough that even though she spoke in barely more than a whisper, he heard everything clearly. “What is it?”
She smiled up at him. “I wanted to let you know what I’ve been feeling the last few days, before you ask me anything.”
His heart sunk in his chest. Maybe she was going to tell him that she didn’t have feelinGs for him the way he had them for her. Maybe he’d been a fool when he’d declared his affections for her in front of Jason. Maybe she thought that was all in the passion of the moment. He swallowed hard, ready to stop her from talking when she started again.
“I love you, Maxwell. I didn’t think it was possible. I’m a new widow and I loved my husband. But with you it’s different. You’re kind and gentle and my husband was both those things in spite of his brother. But it’s more than just that which attracts me to you. You’re accepting of everything about me. You were accepting of me even before you know my whole story. Before you even knew about... my... condition. And you made me love you before you knew. I just need you to kn
ow that, so you don’t think that I’m only marrying you because you said you were all right with raising another man’s child as your own.”
His brain fixed on two words that she’d said. “Marrying me? Does that mean that you will... I mean, that you accept my proposal before I’ve even really had a chance to ask you?”
Her smile widened, and she blinked at him demurely for a moment. “Oh... I... I didn’t mean to stop you from asking. I guess...” She started to pull away. “I guess I’m getting a head of myself.”
Before his fingers could slip completely from her shoulders, he reached out and grabbed hold of her and pulled her in. “No, not at all. You’re not getting ahead of yourself.”
The warmth of her body against his felt welcoming. Like a blanket or a warm stew on a cold day. He wanted to pull her in even more to squeeze her tight and never let go. Then her arms wrapped around his waist and held him just as tightly. Affection for her swelled in his chest.
“I love you, too, Colette,” he whispered into her hair as he kissed the top of her head.
She pulled back and lifted her chin to look him in the eyes. Then he leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips, tasting a sweetness there that was better than he’d expected—better than he’d ever hoped for.
Epilogue
Two years later…
Excitement filled Colette’s every movement as she fed little Johnny, hardly able to sit still. She wiggled almost as much as the child in the highchair. He laughed as his little hands and fingers kept reaching for the spoon.
“You know,” Missy said from behind her. “He can feel your eagerness, and it’s making him eager too. Why don’t you let me feed him?”