The Marriage Agreement

by Carolyn Davidson

  Lily could not resist the invitation. She’d likely never have another chance to commemorate her wedding. Back home it would have been different, with the church full of family friends from the surrounding community plus the people from the house known as River Bend, had she married there. Instead she’d settled for a youthful couple who exemplified a happy marriage so far as she could tell, and a pan of cinnamon buns instead of the fancy wedding cake her mother would have provided.

  It wasn’t a bad exchange, she decided as they followed the young couple from the church fifteen minutes later. The parsonage was warm and welcoming, and the coffee and cinnamon rolls filled the hollow spot in her stomach. Only the impatience Morgan was holding on to with a tight rein put a blot on the celebration.

  He gripped her elbow after all the goodbyes had been said, and Mary had pressed a single flower into Lily’s hand with the instructions to place it in their family Bible as a keepsake.

  “I will. I will,” Lily promised, wondering where she was going to find such a thing. She doubted that Morgan’s bag carried such a volume, and her own belongings were scant. She wore the second dress Morgan had bought for her, a flowered, full-skirted garment that suited her, but would certainly not hold up well on a long journey. Her other things were folded and squeezed into the valise, and unless Morgan decided to spend more money on her wardrobe, she’d fast be out of something to wear.

  They left the parsonage and walked back to the center of town, Morgan carrying both bags, Lily touching his arm for balance as they trod the uneven, rutted road. “We’ll go to the livery stable, I think,” Morgan said. “See what we can find in a horse and buggy.”

  “I can ride if you want to get two saddle horses instead,” Lily offered.

  He looked down at her feminine garments. “Like that?” His brow lifted and she bristled.

  “Buy me some trousers and I’ll show you a woman who can outride you any day of the week,” she muttered.

  He laughed aloud. “I doubt that, sweetheart. Besides I want us to appear legitimate when we reach our destination. We’re going into a ready-made existence, Lily, and everything will be provided for us for the next few weeks.”

  She chewed on that idea for a moment. Somehow this wasn’t what she’d foreseen when Morgan had told her he would be using her for cover. “We’re going where?” she asked. “What will we do when we get there?”

  “You’ll find out. Just trust me,” he told her. And then dropped the bags to the ground beneath a tree at the town’s main intersection, where a livery stable stood beneath trees that sheltered it from full sunlight.

  A husky man held tongs in his left hand, their pincers gripping a horseshoe. He held it over the glowing coals in his brazier and then placed it on an iron block in front of him, lifting high the hammer he was using to form it. The horse tied at the stable door was waiting for his new footwear, and Lily was gripped by a remembrance of the barn in which she’d spent so many hours, that haven of horses and leather and vehicles that were used on the plantation.

  Just so had the dark-skinned man, who served there as blacksmith, worked the iron horseshoes and sweat profusely over his task. Now the fellow they watched took note of them and nodded an abrupt greeting.

  “Be with you folks in a minute,” he said, holding up the iron shoe and examining the results of his hammering. With a deft movement, he held it in the coals for long seconds, and then the hammer went into action again. The sound rang in the air as they watched. Around them the town swept in all directions, the buildings low and clustered in long rows of storefronts.

  “There. That oughta do it,” the smithy said, laying aside his tools and allowing the horseshoe to cool on the iron block. He wiped his hands on the already soiled apron he wore, and then propped them on his hips.

  “We’re in need of a vehicle and a pair of horses to pull it,” Morgan told him.

  “You wanta rent it by the day or week?” the man asked.

  “I don’t want to rent it at all. I’d like to buy a team and a carriage or a wagon.”

  “How about a buggy and one horse?” the man countered. “I got a spare buggy and a mare that pulls it right well.”

  “Any room in it for our things?” Morgan asked, looking down at their bags.

  “Yup. A nice covered place at the rear, oughta hold all that and more.”

  “Let’s see it,” Morgan said pleasantly, and then turned to Lily. “Why don’t you go in the store across the way and see if there’s anything you want to get before we leave, honey?” he asked nicely. And then bent forward, speaking in a lower tone. “Get something for us to eat for the next day, and see if they have a larger case for your things. You’ll be needing a pair of sturdier shoes, too.”

  “All right,” she answered. “Would you like to give me some money to pay for this?” she asked. “I’m almost flat broke, Morgan.”

  “I’ll join you there in fifteen minutes,” he said, and then turned her, pointing to the general store they’d visited briefly earlier. “Get going, Lily. We need to make tracks.”

  She did as he asked, buying a loaf of bread some neighboring farm wife had brought in fresh this very morning, according to the proprietor’s wife. A chunk of cheese, sliced from an enormous wheel of the stuff, was wrapped along with beef jerky and a small bag of candy sticks.

  She found a pair of shoes that looked to be sturdy, lacking in style, but making up for it by being formed from soft leather that would not leave blisters on her feet. Her eyes touched momentarily on a shawl, one of several that were folded on the counter.

  “Ain’t that a pretty one?” the woman behind the wooden barrier asked. Holding it up before her, she swirled it around and held it over her shoulders. “One of the ladies makes these to sell. Does a dandy business at it, too.”

  “We’ll take one for my wife.” From behind her, Morgan’s smooth tones decreed she should have the small luxury and Lily turned to smile her thanks. “It doesn’t take much to make her happy,” he said.

  “A good thing, I’d say,” Lily murmured beneath her breath, holding her smile intact as Morgan paid for the small assortment she’d put together. She picked one up, a dark-blue specimen with a fringed border and draped it around herself. “Like it?” she asked sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes at him, and was gratified by Morgan’s glare.

  He bent to place his mouth next to her ear. “Watch it, lady. Don’t push it too far.” His hand slid into his pocket and he brought forth enough money to pay for their purchases and then watched Lily from beneath shuttered lids as the woman bundled their things in two packages.

  Lily took up the one that held her shoes, leaving Morgan to deal with the food.

  “You folks have a good trip,” she chirped as they left.

  “How’d she know we were going on a trip?” Morgan asked, gripping Lily’s elbow as they descended the wooden steps to the street.

  “I told her we’d just stopped here to be married, and we were off on our honeymoon,” she said, hastening to keep up with his long stride. “And if you don’t slow down and let me catch up with you, she’ll think you’re in a hurry to carry out the plan,” she told him, breathless from the pace he’d set.

  The buggy waited just outside the bank and he led her there, lifting her to the high seat with an ease that surprised her. The man held leashed power in those hands, she decided. He was broad-shouldered and tall, and his hands, though graceful when they shuffled and dealt poker cards, were strong and callused. “Give me your shoes. I’ll put them in the back with the rest of our things,” he said, looking up at her. “And where’s the larger bag I told you to buy?”

  “I decided we didn’t need it. If I don’t have any more clothes than what I’ve got with me already, it’s foolish to buy something bigger to put them in.”

  He frowned. “I’ll be in the market for a couple of things in the next day or so,” he told her. “We’ll need something to keep them in.”

  “Like what?” she asked as he rounded
the front of the mare and climbed up onto the seat.

  “Like some boots for me, suitable for farm life, a couple of dresses for you that don’t make you look like a refugee from a saloon. And,” he said finally, “a gun for you to use, and some shells.”

  She laughed. “You’re going to trust me with a gun? And then expect me to use it? I’m the lady who uses a fireplace poker for defense,” she said sharply. “I can shoot a long gun, but I don’t think that’s what you have in mind, is it?”

  “No, you’ll need something you can carry with you.” He snapped the reins over the mare’s back and the buggy set off, rolling quickly past the last of the storefronts and onto a wending road that traveled parallel to the river they’d followed.

  “I didn’t realize I was expected to shoot anyone,” she said. “I thought you frowned on seeing my picture displayed on that wanted poster.”

  He cast her a patient glance. “I don’t expect you to shoot anyone, Lily. I just want you to know how to use it if you need to.”

  She considered that idea a moment. “I have the feeling I’m getting in over my head, Morgan.”

  “Another thing. If we’re married, you need to be calling me by my name.”

  “Gage?” she asked. “Morgan suits you better.” And speaking your name will make this whole thing too personal, make it a real marriage.

  “Gage sounds more like a husband,” he said. “And I want to represent a typical married couple.”

  “Well,” she began slowly, “maybe I just won’t call you anything. That’ll solve the problem. After all, any decent married man wouldn’t really want to be associated with a woman who belongs in a saloon, would he?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said softly. “I won’t mind associating with you, Lily. In fact, it will be my pleasure. And so far as the Gage bit is concerned, I suspect you’ll be calling me lots of names before we get through this. In fact, I hope you’ll still be talking to me. The best I can hope for is that the nicest thing you call me will probably be my proper name.”

  And wasn’t that a remark designed to make her stew, she thought, settling back in the seat, almost ignoring his comment about the association they would undertake. She’d deal with that when the time came, she decided, feeling like a veritable coward as she shoved the thought of Morgan’s intentions to the back burner of her mind.

  The town Morgan headed for was down the river, a small community in Arkansas, situated to the west of the Mississippi. Facing hard times, the farmers and ranchers there were being threatened by men who purported to represent the federal government, snatching up their property and reselling it for vast profits. The railroad right-of-way was valuable, as was the grazing land.

  “Sand Creek has been a thriving town for years, and these folks own some pretty valuable property. The problem is that too many of them are being cheated out of it.”

  “Sand Creek? This place we’re heading for really has a name?” she asked, sarcasm coating her words. “You mean I really get to know something about this mess you’re about to drag me into?”

  He shot her a measuring look, his grin appearing. “And you thought I was nothing but a two-bit gambler, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

  He wasn’t too far off, he decided, from the look in her eyes that told him he’d come pretty close to reading her mind.

  “Well, what are you exactly?” she blurted and turned to look out over the gently rolling countryside as the buggy moved past open fields and wooded areas. As if she regretted her question, she refused to look back at him as he chose his words carefully.

  “I work for the government,” he told her. “This is how it is. When the men of Sand Creek went off to war the lack of money and shortage of manpower left in the community made farming an unprofitable proposition,” Morgan said. “The farmers and ranchers left were too scattered across the landscape to unite against the thieves, and no one was ready to challenge them. At this point, one by one, they’ve become victims of the land scams. Most of them have lost their holdings already.”

  “And we’re supposed to do what?” she asked. “Sit there and wait to be picked off when they decide it’s time for us to turn over and go belly up?”

  Morgan shook his head. “We’re going to be working undercover as a married couple, taking the place of some folks named Blair. You’ll be taking Sarah’s place and I’m posing as her husband, Sam. Just to keep things simple, I’ll be known as Gage.

  “Having you along as my wife will give me credence,” he said. And it would be up to him to keep her safe, with only the honed skills gained over the past years to protect the two of them on this assignment. He was playing a lone hand, with his life at risk.

  “Won’t the crooks we’re after figure out that the folks who are moving over to make room for us have also taken on new names?”

  “I doubt it. They only know that the Blairs’ holdings are running alongside the land that’s marked out as an ideal route for the train tracks that will head south from Saint Louis to Louisiana and then west to Texas. A secondary route, as a matter of fact, one scheduled to be started in a year or so.

  “One thing in our favor is that there’s a sheriff in Sand Creek who’s prepared to help us.”

  She was silent for a moment and then apparently thought of another fly in the ointment. “Where will the Blairs be staying while we take over their lives?”

  “They’ll be living in town, out of danger.”

  “They’ll be out of danger,” she repeated. “And we’ll be in the midst of it.”

  “Yeah, we will. In fact that’s only one part of this whole thing I don’t like, Lily. Not one little bit. And it’s also the very reason I want you prepared to use a gun should the need arise.”

  “Morgan…” Her voice trailed off as she reconsidered the question she’d thought of tossing in his direction. Had he plotted in a cold-blooded manner from the beginning? Had he decided she was a likely prospect to fulfill his assignment? Had there been no real attraction for her in the scheme of things?

  “What, Lily?” he asked quietly, as if he understood her dilemma and would not press for the query she’d suppressed. “What do you need to know?”

  She launched out, cutting her ties with whatever security she’d gained over the last days. “Am I just a part of the plot, Morgan? Did you string me along and use me for your own needs?” For if he lacked any real caring for her, she’d just as well know right now. If she was bait for a trap, the least he could do was be up-front about it.

  He refused to look at her, his jaw clenching, his grip on the reins tightening. And then he spoke, with reluctance, as if the words were drawn from him one by one, as if he must ponder the impact they would have on her.

  “It began that way, Lily. I knew I needed to find a woman to provide cover for me. You seemed the ideal prospect, from the very beginning. The problem was that I couldn’t sort out whether I was plotting to take you with me for my own benefit or the advantage it would give me to have you along.”

  He glanced at her, his eyes veiled, cool beneath half-lowered lids. “I knew when I said those vows back there that I was in this for longer than a few weeks. I don’t make promises lightly. And once I claim you as my wife, I won’t be turning you loose.”

  “You plan on dragging me along on all your little trips, Morgan?” She was amazed at the degree of calmness in her voice, when her insides were shaking, and she was feeling somehow as though the earth was trembling beneath her.

  “No.” The single word was emphatic. “I’ll figure something out. I’ve got a few irons in the fire, Lily. This will be the last time I take an assignment.” He hesitated and then pulled the horse to a halt by the side of the road. The silence surrounded them, the jingle of harness and the sound of hoof beats stilled, with only the song of a bird from a nearby tree filling the void.

  He grasped her arms and turned her toward him. She refused to strain against his superior strength, knowing the struggle would be futile, and instead tilted her head back t
o look up into his eyes. Steely-gray this morning, they neither warmed now nor took refuge in evading her gaze.

  “Yes, Lily, I’m using you as bait. I won’t deny it. At the same time, I’ve promised you I’ll protect you, and I will. You have my word on that.” He waited, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply, for indeed there was none to be offered. He’d only confirmed the facts.

  “I married you because I wanted to, not because it was the only way to get your cooperation. I could have threatened you with exposure if you hadn’t gone along with this.”

  “I thought that’s what you did,” she said quietly. “Back on the boat when you made that lovely remark about Colonel Weston gnawing on my bones.”

  “I was making a point,” he said, and then he grinned. “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “The picture you planted was too vivid for me to ignore,” she told him. “I know the colonel, remember?” The shiver that touched her spine could not be hidden, and as she watched, his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed a bit.

  “He won’t hurt you again, Lily. When this is over with, I’ll tend to the colonel.”

  And he would. Even not knowing the man beyond the past few days, she had no doubt that he would be her champion, that his words to her offered a promise she could not ignore.

  “All this is irrelevant anyway,” he said, releasing her and picking up the reins again. “We’re married, we’ve got a job to do and we’re in it together, like it or not. If you’re not going to go through with your end of this thing, you’d best say so now, Lily. I need your cooperation for it to work. Will you abide by our bargain?”

  The buggy rolled down the road and she was silent, knowing he awaited her decision, aware at the same time that she had little choice in the matter. She was a woman alone, in desperate straits without his protection. And that thought brought fear to her heart. For the first time in her life, Lily Devereaux was in danger from all sides.