by Tina Leonard
“What is my bride grinning about?” Mason demanded. “We haven’t even said ‘I do’ yet.”
“Everything about you makes me smile,” Mimi said. “I love you, Mason.”
“I know,” he said, in that arrogant tone she was beginning to love. “But you can never love me as much as I do you.” He kissed her soundly just to prove that he wasn’t completely chauvinistic, and Mimi adored him for being exactly the man she’d always wanted.
“So, I’ve got a wedding gift for you,” Mason said, returning her to earth. “But you don’t get it until after the ceremony.”
She smiled. “And I have a wedding gift for you, but you don’t get it until after the ceremony, either.”
“Is it the pretty nightie?” Mason asked hopefully. “I’ve been dreaming about it.”
“No. It’s much better, Mr. Jefferson.”
“Nothing is better than a naked Mimi.”
By now she should be used to blushing, but Mason kept surprising her with his passion.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
Mimi gasped. “Get married?” Was he having second thoughts?
Mason laughed and picked her up in his arms. “This huge shindig. My trusty steed is parked over there. We could make a fast getaway and elope. Which means we get down to the goodies faster.”
“No,” she said, leaning against his chest and enjoying the strong, broad feel of her sheriff. “We’d be dragged back by our own wedding guests. Although I greatly appreciate the fantasy.”
“Mmm. However, once I get you alone—”
Mimi kissed him. “That’s to tide you over.”
Mason smacked his lips. “I think that’ll work.”
“All right,” Last said, coming to get his brother. “If we don’t do this thing, you two may not make it to the altar. And there are some of us around here who have odds riding on whether you elope, change your mind or simply keep making us crazy.”
Mason frowned. “Who’s the bookie?”
“Not telling,” Last said, “but I think it might be Nanette.”
Mimi and Mason gasped.
“Nah, I’m teasing,” Last said. “No one’s taking bets. The house would win, because we all know you’re going to get married and love it. You deserve it, you stubborn ol’ man.” He gave his eldest brother a righteous slap on the back.
Mason tried to work up a glare, but Mimi dragged him toward the altar before he could get sidetracked.
Hawk was performing the nontraditional part of the service for them, and they had the pastor to perform traditional vows.
“I like it,” Mason said. “I like the fact that you intend to have me wed from all angles. It shows your commitment, my flighty little bride.”
He handed her off to Sheriff Cannady with one last hot kiss. “Sorry, Sheriff,” he said. “I’m just crazy about your daughter.”
“Come on, Mimi,” Sheriff Cannady said with a grin. “Let’s let Mason off the hook. I can tell he’s just itching to become a groom. Which is something I never thought I’d say, and it’s going to feel so good to watch it happen.”
Mason grinned at her as she walked away with her father. “Hurry, Mimi. Don’t make me wait long.”
Mimi smiled at him. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”
“And I intend to make up for lost time.”
Her father tugged her away. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get that veil on. Your groom reminds me of some stallions I’ve owned. Ready and raring to go.”
“Dad,” Mimi said, laughing. “I’m having so much fun being wooed and wed.”
He patted her arm. “You deserve it, Mimi. And heaven only knows, when it finally happens, I’m going to be swilling champagne out of that fountain Julia set up.”
They walked into the foyer of the home, which she would now share with Mason. She had always dreamed of living here, part of a big family. Mimi smiled as Julia walked over with her veil. “It’s beautiful, Julia. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
Julia smiled and gently set the long veil over Mimi’s golden hair. “You’re beautiful. Mason’s going to sweep you up and carry you off.”
“No, he won’t,” Mimi said with a laugh, “because Jellyfish is driving the wagon, and he’d be mad if he didn’t get to do his part of chauffeuring us out of here.”
Julia nodded. “Well, here comes the bride. In the next five minutes, you’ll be Mrs. Mimi Jefferson.”
Happy tears jumped into Mimi’s eyes. “Walk with me.”
With her father and her best friend, Mimi walked outside. Her beautiful gown twinkled in the sunlight, which took the chill off the day and gave everything a special glow. Mimi smiled as she took her place behind the procession of bridesmaids, flower girls and ring bearers. The guests, seated in white wicker chairs, rose as lilting strains of the wedding march began to play.
Mason, standing tall at the gazebo altar Julia had concocted, didn’t smile at Mimi. He watched her walk down the aisle on her father’s arm, on petals of roses the little girls tossed with great importance. She felt herself tremble as Mason’s gaze never left hers. It was as if she’d waited all her life to take this walk into his life, and nothing else would ever feel quite like it.
He took her hand and helped her to stand next to him. Her father kissed her, and Mason nodded his thanks to the sheriff for giving him his heart’s desire.
It was, Mason decided, as he took Mimi’s and Nanette’s hands in his, the happiest day of his life.
MANY HOURS LATER, after the last shrimp had been eaten and the wedding guests’ feet literally ached from dancing, Mason loaded his new family into the wagon driven by Jellyfish. Sunflower seeds were thrown at them by well-wishers, and they waved goodbye as they moved forward on the journey to the rest of their lives.
Mason held Mimi as she relaxed against him, enjoying the rocking of the wagon as it swayed down the lane. Mason’s truck was hidden in a grove just off the lane so no one could decorate it. They planned to make a mad dash into Dallas for an overnight pre-honeymoon. When the holidays were past and the family gone, he and Mimi were taking a two-week honeymoon in Hawaii with Nanette, and he was very much looking forward to having his family all to himself.
When they got to the end of the lane, Mason said, “Thank you for marrying me, Mimi. You’ve made me happy beyond anything I can say.”
She smiled at him, and it went straight into Mason’s heart. Now he had what his father had known: a soul mate.
“This is for you,” Mason said, and pointed to the sign that arched over the drive to the ranch. Big, scrolling letters read The Double M, and Mimi squealed with happiness, feeling one hundred percent part of the family. Which she knew had been Mason’s intention, and he was a prince to know exactly what would make her heart happy.
“And this is for you,” she said, “a surprise groom’s garter.”
Mason’s eyes lit up. “Shouldn’t I wait until we’re alone?”
Mimi laughed. “No. This one is G-rated. And a little goofy, but I wanted to make it memorable.” Pulling the garter off, she handed it to him.
He was grinning until he saw what adorned the scrap of satin. Mimi had attached a pregnancy stick to the lace—and the tip of the stick was blue.
“Congratulations,” Mimi said, “you’re a dad. Again.”
Mason’s heart swelled as he looked at Mimi, his best friend for always. Somehow, you’re a dad—again were the sweetest words he’d ever heard besides I do. He couldn’t wait to hear them over and over again through the years.
“Nanette’s going to have the first of many brothers and sisters to come. Lucky them to have such a special big sister.”
Mimi’s eyes twinkled. “We’re repeating a Jefferson family tradition. This one’s better than the Curse of the Broken Body Parts.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Twins,” Mimi said.
Holding his girl tightly to him as the wagon moved forward, Mason laughed
out loud with joy.
Epilogue
The twelve Jefferson brothers sat around the den of the main house, each trying not to be uncomfortable. It was the day after Christmas, so the tree was pretty but the room had toys and presents scattered everywhere. Fanciful stockings for each and every person lined the stairwell, which was becoming more crowded every year.
The wives and children had all gone into the city to hit the after-holiday sales. Mimi had hired Shoeshine Johnson to chauffeur them in his school bus so they could all ride together, making a party of it. Shoeshine had festooned his bus with garlands, big fat red bows swinging from the garlands and a wreath on the grille. The kids had been delighted, and the men felt good about not having to spend the day in the malls fighting the traffic and elbowing customers.
Although anything would have been better than this, Mason decided. Now that the moment had come, he really didn’t want to face it. Coward, he told himself, which was only partially true.
He had sought the answers to what had happened to Maverick Jefferson for years. Diligently. Hiring Hawk and Jellyfish had pretty much assured that he would find some answers. He just hadn’t expected to have the answers in the black pencil of his father’s handwriting.
He felt strangely as if his father’s ghost were in the room, and tears pricked at the back of his eyes. “It’s now or never,” he said. “Who’s going to read it?”
“You are,” everyone said.
They weren’t so much shifting responsibility to him as acknowledging his place as the eldest, Mason knew, and also acknowledging the fact that he’d spent a lot of time and effort worrying about their father over the years. The worst thing, he supposed, would be to find out his father had gone on and led a completely happy life without them. On the other hand, Mason desperately hoped his father had been happy and well.
He nodded. “All right,” he said, reaching out with somewhat unsteady hands to pick up the book. “Here we go.”
Slowly, he opened the book, careful not to crack the well-weathered spine. Then he began to read aloud from the pages, pronouncing each word carefully.
“August 1. Washington State. Not really sure what I’m doing here.”
Mason looked up. “He doesn’t date the year.”
Last waved a hand. “Go on.”
“It skips to August 15,” Mason said.
“Northern California. Miss Alaska. Not sure why. Froze my ass off there.”
The men chuckled.
Mason took a deep breath.
“Sept. 1. Heading back to Alaska. Like the cold the best. Don’t feel anything when the weather forces survival on a person.
“Oct. 1. Feel vaguely like I left something important behind. Not sure where. Think my boys are going to call me today.”
Mason’s hands started to tremble, and he heard Crockett sigh. He forced himself to read on.
“Oct. 20. Feel really cold. I know I used to live in a really hot place, but I can’t remember where. Am living with some fishermen. They take me out with them to do some ice-hole fishing. Sometimes we go by boat. The world is really pretty out there. There’s nothing for miles but wild, raw beauty. The feeling of being alone is somehow what I deserve.”
Fannin made a sound that could have been a curse word. Navarro leaned back, putting his boots on the table. The clock on the mantel ticked, which Mason usually found comforting. But not today. It reminded him of the moments of his father’s life that had ticked away, with him being clearly somewhat confused. Having recently suffered a head injury himself and feeling vaguely out of line with the rest of his body occasionally, he knew his father had been searching for who he was, not what he didn’t have.
The knowledge made his heart heal in slow, soothing waves. “He was sick,” Mason said. “I wonder if he’d hit his head on something while he was out working and got confused. I don’t think he would have left us had he not suffered some type of injury.”
“Could have been internal,” Bandera said. “A small stroke or something. I know he’d always missed Mom, but he doesn’t talk about it in the journal. Unless you haven’t gotten there.”
“Well,” Mason said, “he was trying to remember a lot about his life. For example, there’s a list of his favorite foods in here. There’s a list of what he’d eaten recently. And,” he said, turning to the last page, “there’s a family tree with all our birth names.” He smiled. “He’s got Mom’s name surrounded by a heart. There are side notes in a different section about her. For example, he writes,
‘I was sure as hell no hero. I don’t know why she loved me. But she did, and I loved her for it, with all the love a man can give anyone.’”
“Not surprised by that,” Frisco Joe said. “He was a one-woman man.”
“And a one-family man,” Laredo said.
“Now here’s something strange,” Mason said. “On the back of the family tree, he’s written some history in a sort of journalistic style, without dates.”
“Read it,” Tex said. “The suspense is killing me.”
Mason glared at him for a second, then his gaze returned to his father’s writing.
“My great-grandparents were hardworking people from Europe who settled in Texas and expected life to be hard at the Union Junction ranch, but that was the price of freedom they were willing to pay. They had one child, who married a woman who could take life on the isolated frontier.
“This couple, my parents, had three children: Moira, Maverick and Maximilian, to whom they wanted to leave the ranch. Our parents died unexpectedly. All of us were separated and sent into the foster care system, such as it was at the time. We never saw each other again, and I never got over that. As old as I am, I still remember my brother and sister being taken from me. I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. They cried and cried my name, and these days, I hear that sound a lot.
“When I was fourteen I struck out for Texas to take back the family homestead. I thought if I took over the ranch, I could have my brother and sister back. I took our dilapidated house and built it back up with my own two hands. My reputation became one of a man who could eke out a living on the hard dry plains, but the truth was I became hard.
“I never located my brother and sister. The orphanage burned down, and all paperwork was gone, but I don’t think anyone who worked there really cared. They didn’t remember any of us.
“I never forgot the loneliness. After being in a system that didn’t want me, one that carelessly separated families, I longed for a big family of my own. So I married Mercy, because in her I sensed an angel.
“She gave me twelve children, each one of whom I loved with all my soul. They gave me back my heart.
“One day, we’ll all be together again.”
“Damn it,” Ranger said, wiping at his eyes. “I feel sorry for Dad.”
“Yeah,” Archer said. “Wonder why he never told us about his brother and sister.”
“He couldn’t,” Mason said, finally understanding his father after all these years. “He couldn’t save them, so he locked it away inside him. It was too painful.”
“He put all his love and efforts into us,” Frisco Joe said. “We had the benefit of him home-schooling us with what he’d learned from his immigrant parents, and he forged our family and taught us to rely on each other.”
They looked around in the Christmas-lit room, the house they now knew their great-grandparents had built and had struggled to keep and which their father had fought to take back. Then they all went outside to look at the wide, vast land, which was their birthright.
Then they looked at the sky, silently thanking their father for giving them everything he had and for making them the men they had become.
There was no greater love.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5862-8
MASON’S MARRIAGE
Copyright © 2006 by Tina Leonard.
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