These Rough Dreams

by Cheryl Pierson

She nodded.

  “I’d thought this would be Rema’s room. Put the boys upstairs.”

  “They’re young to be climbing up and down the ladder so much…” Gabby’s thoughts trailed off. “I just worry.”

  He reached to enfold her in a one-armed embrace. “You’re a natural-born mother hen, you know it? Worryin’ already, and they haven’t stepped off the stage.”

  “I want everything to be perfect for them, Johnny. I want them to know how much they’re loved. I want them to have fond memories from here on out.”

  “I’m hoping that’ll be the case for all of us.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Thought I’d start making that happen for you right now with a bath to wash away the travel grime.”

  She put her hands on her hips teasingly. “Are you saying I’m grimy, Mr. Rainbolt?”

  “No, ma’am. Not at all. You’re fresh as a flower on a morning in May. But, I thought you’d welcome a nice soak, all the same.”

  “Johnny, you’re making my dreams come true already.”

  He gave her a wink. “I hope so.”

  ****

  Johnny had gone out to see to the livestock while Gabby soaked in the metal tub. Oh, heaven! How she’d longed for the pleasure of being completely clean again—not having been able to afford the most meager of luxuries as she travelled. She’d had little time or opportunity for a long, luxurious wash such as this, and had had to make choices along the way between such extravagances as cleanliness and necessities such as eating.

  She held her breath and submerged her head, then lathered it with the fragrant soap she knew Johnny had added to the supplies just for her, along with a set of tortoise shell combs for her hair, and a brush.

  Johnny had matter-of-factly told her he knew she probably had such things—even finer than what he’d bought—but didn’t want her to have to unpack tonight, since she was so tired from her journey.

  His thoughtfulness in the small matters touched her as nothing else could have. Her father had never been thoughtful of his wife and children. A hard, cold man, he’d raised her brothers in his image. Her mother had retreated into a shell of perfection and façade, leaving her daughters to try and fend for themselves as best they could—which, in the Mason household, meant landing a husband as quickly as possible.

  As Gabby reluctantly stepped from the now-tepid water and began to dry her hair with a towel, she thought of the purchases again. Johnny didn’t know how special they were, but she would tell him. She wanted him to know just how special he’d made her feel. And that even though her father might have afforded those tortoise-shell combs a hundred times over, he’d never bought her one of them in her entire life.

  She heard the front door open and reached for her nightgown hurriedly. She’d found that in one of the small trunks and laid it out, but it was far too warm for this hot June night.

  No matter. She probably wouldn’t be wearing it for long, anyway. Her face burned, but her heart thundered at her thoughts.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” She smiled to herself. This would probably be the last time he’d ever ask permission to come into this room—now their room.

  When he entered, his eyes met hers from across the room, her smile welcoming.

  “I hope I gave you enough time—I took a bath in the creek—” His shirt hung open, his belt unbuckled at his waist, as if he hadn’t thought he needed to dress since…

  “Oh, that’s too cold,” she said quickly. “You should’ve—” She broke off, her words hanging.

  He grinned. “Come shared your bath? Plenty of time for that later. I wanted you to be able to relax.”

  “Oh—yes.”

  Johnny stood beside where she sat on the edge of the bed. “Gabby—if you don’t want to do this tonight—”

  “No—um, I mean, yes. Oh—Johnny, it’s not as if I’m a virgin, but I’ve only—well you know… the one time.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m afraid I don’t know what I should do…to please you.”

  He gave a soft chuckle, shrugging out of his shirt, then reaching to turn the bed back as she stood up nervously.

  “Be easy, Gabby,” he murmured. “I’ll never hurt you. And I’ll never do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  She nodded, looking down.

  He began to unbutton his denims and dropped them to the floor, kicking them over beside his shirt.

  “C’mon. Let’s go to bed. I know you’re tired.”

  “But—don’t you want me to take off my nightgown?’

  He shrugged. “Only if you want to.”

  Disappointment tugged at her. What had she expected? That he’d insist on having his way with her because she was so beautiful he just couldn’t help himself? She knew better. But didn’t he want her?

  She crawled into bed, sneaking a quick glance at his sculpted, hard-chiseled body. Her heart jumped and fluttered.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “It’s gonna be pretty hot tonight for that nightgown. I won’t touch you, if you want to take it off to be cooler.”

  “N-No. I’ll just wear it awhile.”

  “Okay.” He laid down beside her and turned the wick down in the lamp on the bedside table.

  She could smell the clean man-scent of him, the woods, the creek and the evening wind that had finally cooled some. It seemed all these things were a part of his essence, as if he were as wild as the nature of this rugged land she would forever call home, now.

  His skin was warm as his arm touched hers in the quiet of the room.

  He turned on his side, toward her, and put his arm across her waist, his big hand splaying across the small bulge of her stomach, as if to protect her baby. Their baby, he’d said earlier.

  She squirmed, the nightgown suddenly feeling itchy and over-warm. He lifted his arm, waiting for her to get comfortable, then put his hand back where it had been.

  “Kids’ll be here tomorrow,” he observed.

  “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “I imagine there won’t be very many calm nights like this, once they come.”

  Gabby smiled in the darkness. “No. The house will be full of love and laughter.”

  “It already is, Gabby.” He was quiet a moment before he continued. “You’re more than I ever hoped for. Not just for the kids, but for me. For us.”

  “Johnny…please mean it, if you say it. I can’t bear any more heartache. I have to know what you say…is true.” Her voice shook, but she managed to get it out.

  And she was met with silence. She took a breath as if to continue, but in the next instant, Johnny’s lips closed tenderly over hers.

  “Gabby,” he whispered, between kisses. “I know that guy hurt you—” he smoothed her hair back, as if memorizing every arc and plane of her face in the darkness, “—giving you a baby and promising marriage to get what he wanted. But, I swear to you, if I saw him on the street, I’d beat the hell out of him, just from what I know—which isn’t a whole lot—yet. I’ll never let him or anyone else hurt you again.”

  Warmth flooded through her at the honest reassurance of his words. This shouldn’t be a time for the past to interfere with their future, for old memories to bind her heart to the ground and keep it from soaring in her newfound happiness and love.

  Suddenly, she felt small. Her fears and insecurity were blocking her way to happiness. She had so much she wanted to give; so much she wanted to learn and experience. She couldn’t do it without moving past what had already happened. And it wasn’t fair to her or Johnny if she didn’t push the past away and move on with this new life.

  He touched her cheek, as lightly as a raven’s wing, and brushed a kiss to her forehead.

  She moved to sit up and he leaned back.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Getting rid of this damn nightgown.”

  She couldn’t see him, but she felt his surprise at her words. She pulled the gown off and threw it in the general direction of
his clothing pile on the floor.

  “Gabby?”

  She laughed as he moved to take her in his arms. “I’m ready to become Mrs. Johnny Rainbolt. Now, and forever.”

  ****

  Johnny and Gabby stood together on the station platform as the stage rounded the corner of Brush Creek’s Main Street. Nothing had changed, Gabby thought, glancing around the streets. Yet everything had, with the passage of only twenty-four hours.

  She was a married woman. A happily married woman, she corrected, thinking of the hours of lovemaking she and Johnny had spent last night. And now, the children were here. She expected to hear happy chatter as the stage came around the corner and down the dusty street.

  But, even though Gabby caught a glimpse of two dark heads through the open stage window, there was no laughter. Maybe they’d fallen asleep, she thought. But as the driver pulled to a stop and swung down to open the door, Gabby’s eyes locked with the somber coal-dark gaze of the older boy, James. He carefully looked away when she gave him a sunny, welcoming smile.

  Johnny had stepped forward and reached to take the hand of a rail-thin sour-faced woman who emerged.

  She barely spared him a cool nod before turning to look back into the coach. “Come along, children!” She threw Johnny a most exasperated glance. “You must be Mr. Rainbolt.”

  Before he could respond, she went on, lifting her nose in the air. “I am Miss Tarndale. I can’t describe to you how relieved I am to reach our destination here in Brush Creek. I shall book a room in the local inn and be on the return stage the day after tomorrow, back to Colorado.”

  Miss Tarndale was a tight-lipped, unsmiling woman who Gabby disliked on sight. Dour and unpleasant as she was, Gabby imagined every mile that rolled by had been welcome for the children—because they knew the trip was coming to an end.

  As uncertain as their lives were, they could only hope for better things once they reached their uncle’s home. Miss Tarndale had made it no easier on them.

  The children all stood uncertainly behind her. Gabby bent low to look into Rema’s dark eyes. She held out her hand, and slowly, the little girl stepped forward.

  “As their new governess, there are some things you should know,” Miss Tarndale went on, piercing Gabby with a dark look. Gabby purposely gave all her attention to Rema. Miss Tarndale huffed at Gabby’s rude cut.

  “Miss Tarndale, Gabrielle is my wife—not a governess.” There was steel in Johnny’s tone, and Gabby knew he’d had enough of Miss Tarndale and her tedious ways, just as she had.

  “Oh…but…you’re white…” the crone gasped, horrified. Her wide-eyed look swung back to Gabby once more.

  Gabby glanced up quickly, meeting her condemning gray gaze. She straightened to her full height.

  “And you are unspeakably rude. Tell me, are these the manners you hope to teach your charges?”

  Miss Tarndale recovered herself with a sputter. “Thankfully, my job is done with these little savages.” Her lips tightened to a thin, hard line. “They now belong to you.” She turned her gaze to Johnny. “Good day, Mr. Rainbolt.” With that, she turned on her heel, selected her bag from the stage platform, and headed for the Brush Creek Hotel without a backward glance.

  Gabby’s heart beat double time. It had been a long time since she’d been so angry. It had been…since she’d left home; maybe not even then, when she thought of it—then, she’d been more hurt and afraid of what the future held for her. She had been like a lost child, buffeted by whichever way the currents of her life took her.

  But now…she was in control. And she’d be damned if she’d allow Miss Tarndale or anyone else to insult these children or her husband…or herself. Her family…already precious to her. Dear enough to her heart to fight for.

  Johnny watched Miss Tarndale’s progress toward the hotel, then he turned toward Gabby, laughter lighting his near-black eyes. “I expect Miss Tarndale never had such a proper set down in her life, Mrs. Rainbolt.”

  “Well.” She huffed a breath out. “She needed it.”

  Johnny laughed. “Yeah. She did. But I never figured you for the one to give it to her.”

  The admiration in his eyes was all Gabby needed to know she’d done the right thing—for all of them.

  ****

  Dinner, in spite of Gabby’s attempts to lighten moods, was a somber, quiet affair.

  The children all sat stiffly in their chairs, their faces blank and emotionless. More than once, Gabby and Johnny exchanged perplexed glances. There was no happy chatter. The only consolation Gabby took was that the children ate heartily of the simple fare.

  After they’d all finished, Johnny pulled three sticks of peppermint from the top shelf of the pantry, eliciting the first smiles of the day from the youngsters as he handed them out.

  Over the tops of their heads, Gabby mouthed, “Where’s mine?”

  He gave her a slow smile. “Later,” he murmured, his arm going around her. “I promise.”

  ****

  The sound of a child’s scream tore through the night, instantly alarming Gabby and Johnny to sudden wakefulness. They both jumped out of bed quickly, grabbing for clothing.

  Gabby hurried across the hall and Johnny followed close behind, calling to the boys who peered over the edge of the loft at him with wide eyes.

  Gabby pulled Rema into her arms as the child sobbed against her.

  “Bad…he was bad…” Her sobs were breathless and uncontrollable.

  “Who, sweetheart?”

  She pointed toward the small window where the curtains fluttered in the summer night.

  Johnny looked thoughtful, then wordlessly headed for the front door. He stopped just long enough to snatch the shotgun from the gunrack, then threw the door open.

  Gabby followed close behind, Rema in her arms.

  “You stay here,” he said softly. Then, he vanished into the darkness. Hastily, Gabby closed the door behind him.

  She refused to allow herself to think of what could happen. What if there really had been someone out there? What if it hadn’t been a little girl’s bad dream, but a real-life nightmare?

  A sound startled her from the loft, and she glanced up, but could see nothing in the pitch black of night—and she dared not light a lamp.

  “It’s all right boys,” she said, trying to will her voice not to tremble. “Your Uncle Johnny will be back soon. I’m sure of it.”

  Silence answered her.

  “Does…Rema often have bad dreams?”

  “No,” James answered firmly.

  “Never, ever,” Monty whispered.

  Gabby took in a deep breath. That was just what she’d been afraid of. It was quite possible someone had actually been there.

  Just when she thought she could stand the dark silence no longer, the door opened a crack and Johnny said, “It’s me, Gabby.”

  He slipped inside and barred the door behind him.

  “Okay, everyone back to bed, now. All is well.”

  But Gabby heard something else in his tone, and she prayed the children had missed it.

  After a moment, the boys moved, and Johnny urged Gabby toward the hallway and the bedroom.

  “Rema, why don’t you come sleep with us tonight?” Johnny said kindly. “You’ve had a bad scare.”

  As they entered the bedroom, Johnny set the shotgun beside the bed within his easy reach.

  Gabby knew, then, he had found something.

  ****

  It didn’t take long for Rema to fall asleep between them. Gabby knew Johnny wouldn’t sleep the rest of the night.

  “What was out there?” she whispered.

  She could feel his smile in the darkness. “I thought you were asleep.”

  “Oh, poo. You did not. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me all this time. I feel my hair turning gray. I can’t wait any longer.”

  He gave a soft chuckle at her teasing, but when he spoke, he was serious. “There were tracks under her window. Someone was there.”

  Ev
en though Gabby had expected him to say as much, the quiet confirmation shocked her more than she was prepared for. She swallowed hard. “Who could it have been?”

  He gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Could be anyone. I’m wondering…why? What do they want? Any ideas?”

  She shook her head, though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Do you have money stashed away?”

  He was quiet a moment before he said, “If I did, Gabrielle, you’d know about it.”

  She could feel the hot blush of embarrassment covering her body. “I didn’t mean that—that you’d keep secrets, Johnny. And, I certainly have none from you. I couldn’t have even paid for my own meal when I got off the stage. So, if it isn’t money—what could it be? Jewelry? Maybe he thought I had something valuable—oh, I don’t know—who can say what’s in his mind?”

  “It’s hard to know…but we’ll have to be a little more vigilant until we find him and figure out what’s going on.”

  “You don’t think he’ll try again tonight, do you?’

  His arm came gently across Rema, protectively encompassing both her and Gabby.

  “Not if he wants to live to see the sunrise. Not for you to worry about, Gabby. Don’t you know my reputation?” he teased. “Get to sleep, now. Tomorrow will be hectic, and you need your rest for this little one.” He patted her gently.

  A sudden tenderness filled her, along with a feeling of regret. How could she ever have believed herself to be in love with such a cad as Elliott Remington? Marriage to him would have been insufferable—as would marriage to Ferrin Maynard. Both liars and cheats, in different ways; but both of them untrustworthy, as well.

  Johnny…she’d already fallen in love with him—and now, she understood the difference. She’d foolishly believed she’d given her heart to Elliott, along with her virginity. She’d thrown herself at the mercy of Ferrin Maynard, already starting to convince herself she could love him because she had no choice, now that she was with child.

  But Johnny Rainbolt hadn’t made her feel indebted to him—not once. They’d started out as she’d always dreamed of—on the same road together. And with his words and actions, she knew he felt the same.

  It was going to work out for them, somehow, against all the odds. And it was going to be wonderful.