One Texas Night

by Jodi Thomas

  Brushing the Colt at her waist she remembered his offer. A partnership. If he was fool enough to offer, she was crazy enough to take him up on it.

  The preacher asked them to join hands as the first whistle to load sounded. Hank’s fingers closed around hers and she tried to hear Brother Milton’s words over the pounding of her heart. She was doing what her father had ordered. She was marrying.

  Steam filled the night air, fogging the lights on the platform as travelers rushed by, unaware that two people were joining their lives together, forever. Aggie gripped Hank’s hand and breathed in the damp air. Silently, she said good-bye to all she’d ever known, and hung her hopes on his promise.

  The preacher pronounced them man and wife as the second whistle sounded. Hank reached in his pocket and handed Brother Milton two dollars.

  Charlie yelled for them to hurry and suddenly they were running—her hand still in Hank’s—toward their new life.

  Hank paused a few feet ahead of her as the train began to move. Then, without warning, he reached for her and lifted her up to the second step as the train picked up speed. A moment later, he jumped aboard.

  Aggie backed up another step, giving him room, and found herself at eye level with the stranger she’d just married. She should have been afraid, but all she saw was a pair of walnut-colored eyes reflecting the questions and uncertainty she felt. She knew without asking that he hadn’t come to dinner planning to leave with a wife. He didn’t even seem all that happy with the turn of events. He looked more confused and worried.

  He might be clean and not swear, but for all she knew he’d murdered and buried several wives out on that ranch of his. No one, not even her brother-in-law, knew Hank Harris well enough to pay him an honest compliment. He might be a raving maniac living way off in a town she’d never heard about. But then, who was she to question his sanity. She’d married a giant she’d talked to for five minutes in the dark.

  The wind tugged a strand of her hair free. She turned away from his stare and tried to push it back beneath her bonnet. When she looked back, he was still staring at her as if she were the first woman he’d ever encountered. He had a strong face, made of all planes and angles. Not handsome, but solid with character.

  Aggie let out a breath and told herself that a man’s face didn’t lie.

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “How are we doing so far?”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I haven’t shot you yet so I guess the marriage is lasting.”

  “You think we might try sitting down? It’ll get mighty cold out here in the next eight hours.”

  Turning around just as the car shifted, Aggie lost her footing on the narrow step.

  Hank’s hand touched her waist only long enough to steady her. When he pulled away, she thought she heard him whisper, “Sorry.”

  They moved inside and found an empty seat. While she slid close to the window, Hank tugged at the top half of the bench in front of them, shifting the back so it made the seat face them. He sat his saddlebags on the empty bench. The tiny square he’d created offered them space and the hint of privacy. With an almost empty train, no one would be close to them for the journey.

  He stood, halfway between the seat next to her and the one across from them as if debating where to sit.

  “Do you like to ride facing backward?” she asked, thinking he looked so cramped having to lean forward to keep from hitting the top of the car.

  “No,” he said but didn’t move.

  She pulled her skirts close against her leg, making room for him.

  When he sat, his knee brushed hers and he apologized again.

  Relaxing, she almost giggled. Any man who’d said he was sorry twice in ten minutes of marriage couldn’t be as bad as her fears. “It’s all right,” she said. “We’re married. We’re bound to touch now and then.”

  He nodded and tossed his hat and coat on top of his saddlebags. “We probably need to talk about the rules of this partnership. I’d sure hate to do something to make you think you’d just as soon be a widow.”

  She patted the gun belt at her waist and smiled. “It’s a long way to Amarillo. Maybe we should set a few rules so we both know what the other expects.”

  And they did. He told her of his house and how he’d change one room to be hers. She said she only knew how to fix breakfast, but she’d do that every morning if he’d cook dinner. He explained that his land was less than a mile from town so they could manage to eat at the hotel café some nights.

  When he talked of his home, he relaxed, describing it so well she could almost see the ranch with its endless sunsets and room to breathe. From the train window the land turned flat, but he painted the beauty in it with his words so clearly she could almost see it through the night.

  Somewhere between Fort Worth and home, Aggie fell asleep on her new husband’s shoulder, dreaming of a life where her time was her own and no one ordered her around.

  Chapter 4

  Hank put up with her wiggling beside him, trying to get comfortable, for as long as he could stand it, then he shifted and circled his arm around her shoulder. Her head settled against his heart. She sighed softly in sleep and stilled as if she’d found the place where she could relax.

  He thought back over everything he’d done or said all evening, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how he’d ended up heading back home with a beautiful woman sleeping on him. Not just a woman . . . his wife. He’d always said he liked his solitude, but he looked forward to seeing what tomorrow would bring for the first time in years.

  He felt like a miner who’d been breathing stale air for so long that a fresh breeze made him dizzy. Everything in his life had seemed fine until he met Aggie, then he noticed the emptiness. And, it had happened in the darkness outside, before he’d seen her face. He admired her honesty, her spirit, but her beauty made him nervous.

  For a while he worried about what she’d think of his house, then he remembered Charlie’s dugout and decided she’d like his place just fine. She wasn’t his real wife, he reminded himself. Not in the true sense of it. But to the town, to his friends, she would be. Somewhere in their discussion of the rules for this partnership, they’d agreed to keep the arrangement between them. Which suited him fine. He wasn’t sure anyone would believe him even if he tried to explain. She’d told him that he could touch her in any way that would be acceptable in public, but that she’d not be ordered around anywhere. He grinned, guessing she’d had enough bossing with four older sisters.

  Her determination to work surprised him. He hadn’t missed the way, after telling him of her dream to be a gunsmith, that she’d waited as if she expected him to argue.

  He’d told her Amarillo had several places that sold guns, but no gunsmith to repair them. He offered to speak to Jeb Diggs at the mercantile and ask if he’d put out a sign.

  Hank smiled again, realizing he’d smiled more tonight than he had in months. Once he mentioned the sign, she’d asked questions, wanting to know all about the possibilities of her working. Aggie told him about her small box of tools and said she could mail order more with the first money she made.

  For a few moments her shyness had disappeared. She’d promised him she’d pay her way, buying her own clothes and paying for half the food. The last thing she’d said before falling asleep was that she’d be no trouble to him at all as if by agreeing to marry her he’d somehow taken on an extra burden.

  Touching her hand with one finger, he wondered how such a delicate creature could want to work with weapons. Her blue-green eyes had sparkled at the thought though, and if that was what she wanted, he’d do his best to see it happened. He had a feeling, trouble or not, great changes were coming in his life, and all he could think was that it was about time.

  He rubbed his chin against her auburn hair. She’d been asleep an hour. They’d be pulling into Wichita Falls soon. He knew all the noise would wake her, but he wasn’t ready to have her pull away. They might be strangers, but she
felt so right against his side.

  The whistle blew as the train slowed. As he knew she would, Aggie straightened and replaced her bonnet. “Are we close to your home?”

  “No,” he managed to answer while thinking how ugly her hat fitted her face and hid the color of her hair. “We’ve only made the first leg, but there’s a café here that stays open for this train. You hungry?”

  She nodded.

  “Twenty-minute stop,” the porter yelled as he passed. “We don’t wait for anyone.”

  Aggie’s hand slid around Hank’s arm as they rushed from the train. “Does the wound pain you?”

  He covered her cold fingers with his. “I’d forgotten about it.” He guided her into the café.

  After they ordered, Hank decided to voice his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking since I just sold a few cattle that you should go ahead and order those tools you need right away. There’s a mercantile across from the station.” He added in almost a whisper, “We could also pick up any clothes you might need and maybe a hat to protect your face from the sun.”

  She looked up from her coffee. “I’ll keep a record and pay you back.”

  He nodded, guessing she wouldn’t accept the money any other way, and was thankful she didn’t take offense at his suggestion of a new hat. “I could build you a bench in the barn to work. I have a bench out there where I’m always intending to build a few pieces of furniture, but I never seem to have the time. You could work with me on warm days, then when it gets cold you could use the kitchen table as a work area.”

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “I wouldn’t. If we’re to truly have this partnership, then half the barn, as well as the kitchen, is already yours.”

  “Thank you,” she said as the cook delivered two bowls of chili with corn bread on the side.

  When they were alone she added, “Mr. Harris, would you consider telling me why you married me?” She’d talked freely of her work and the rules, but she must think this question personal for her shyness returned.

  “Don’t you think you should call me Hank?”

  She shook her head and looked down at her hands. He finished half his chili before she spoke. “My father told me once that my mother never called him anything but ‘dear.’ Would you consider it too bold if I did the same?”

  No one had ever referred to him as dear. “I wouldn’t mind.” He wanted to add that she’d just made this bargain worthwhile even if she didn’t do another thing, but all he said was, “I married you because you needed me.”

  She looked surprised. “Not because you wanted me or because folks say I’m pretty or because you needed a wife to help out?”

  He shook his head. “You know you’re pretty. In fact, I think you may be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, but I wouldn’t have offered if that were all there was to you. In the dark, when we met, I saw your dreams, your hopes and, when we went inside, it didn’t take much to see that those two fools would never make them happen.”

  She laughed, but her eyes studied him as if searching for a lie. “And will you?”

  “Nope,” he answered between bites, “but you will.”

  They ate the rest of the meal in silence with him wondering if she believed him. When they left the café and ran for the train she huddled close to him. The wind blew hard from the north. Hank could feel a storm coming and he hoped he made it home before it hit.

  When they settled back into their seats, the car was empty except for a drunk snoring on the last bench. Aggie tugged off her shoes, doubled her legs beneath her skirts, and shifted so that her back rested on the window. Hank folded his leather coat and made a pillow for her to lean against.

  “Thank you, dear,” she said as casually as if she’d said the endearment all her life.

  “You’re welcome,” he managed.

  Hank had been an only child raised by a father who seldom said more than was necessary to anyone, including him. He was totally unprepared for Aggie. As the train pulled away from Wichita Falls and moved into the night, she began to talk, shyly at first. She told him of her home and her father, then she described all four of her sisters and how they’d married one by one and moved away.

  Hank listened.

  Tears bubbled in her eyes when she talked about how lonely her father seemed with all the girls gone except her. She loved working beside him and he’d taught her all he knew, but there still seemed to be this big hole in him that didn’t fill until he began stepping out with Widow Forbes.

  Hank liked the sound of Aggie’s voice and the way emotions reflected in her face. He saw pride when she talked about her skill, and sadness when she told of leaving home and knowing if she ever returned she’d be a visitor in another woman’s house. Anger also danced in her blue-green depths when she described how her sisters passed her from one to the other, each adding another layer of reasons why she wasn’t married.

  He could read in her eyes far more than she told. He’d bet the five hundred dollars in his pocket that she’d been her father’s favorite and her sisters had resented it. He’d also bet the sisters hadn’t wasted much time looking for the best man for Aggie.

  Like a top spinning down, she finally said all she had to say. She must have waited a long time to find someone who would listen.

  “You tired?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Turn around and lean against me.” He shifted.

  She pressed her back against his chest and he pulled his coat over her, resting his arm over her to keep the coat in place. “Trust me,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ll wake you before we get there.”

  “Yes, dear,” she answered, already almost asleep.

  Chapter 5

  With the dawn came a downpour that seemed to be trying to wash the small town of Amarillo off the map. As the train pulled into the station, Aggie tried to catch her first glimpse. She stared out the foggy window at gray skies blending with the brown landscape.

  “This is it.” Hank stood as the engine braked. He crammed on his hat as if preparing for a fight. “We’re home.” Slinging his saddlebags over one shoulder, he moved toward the door. “I’ll take your carpetbag now and come back for the boxes when I fetch my horse.”

  She sat motionless realizing he expected her to follow him. “You have to be joking,” Aggie mumbled. “I can’t go out in that.” She pointed at the rain pelting the windows. “There are tree branches blowing by bigger than me.” She twisted her hands until her fingers turned ghostly white. “I can’t go.”

  Hank laughed. “Train’s moving farther north in half an hour and my guess is the storm only gets worse from here. We have to get off now.”

  When she didn’t move, he added, “I’ll carry you to the mercantile across the street. It’s not far. You’ll still get wet, but at least you won’t get muddy . . . or blown away. Don’t worry. I’ll hold on to you.”

  Neither option seemed possible. Even if she had an umbrella, using it would be like fighting a bear with a twig. Much as she hated it, the only choice might be to run for the nearest shelter.

  Hank moved down the aisle as if their discussion was over and she followed, her hands worrying in front of her. Marrying a stranger might have been reckless, but stepping out in that wind bordered on suicidal in her mind. No wonder there were no people in the Panhandle of Texas. They’d all blown into the Oklahoma Territory.

  She watched as Hank crossed onto the platform, his legs wide apart and solid against the wind.

  Before she could say anything, he swung her up and jumped from the train. Aggie wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as he ran into a wall of gray rain.

  Shivering against him, she was too frightened to make a sound. Once they were off the platform, the street turned more river than road. He slowed, picking his steps. As tiny hailstones joined the rain, she felt his heart pounding even through their clothing.

  His face lowered and his hat protected them both. A rough brush of whiskers touched her c
heek.

  “It’s all right,” he whispered, his lips near her ear. “We’re almost there.”

  Aggie managed a slight nod and felt her cheek touch his once more. She tightened her grip. He did the same.

  When he stepped onto the porch of Diggs Grocery and Hardware, she didn’t lessen her hold. Now the rain wasn’t hitting them, but the sound of it seemed deafening against the tin roof.

  Hank pushed into the store. “We made it,” he whispered with a laugh.

  Aggie realized she hadn’t been nearly as frightened as she thought she would be. She’d felt safe in his arms.

  Placing her hand on his jaw, she turned his head slightly so that their eyes met beneath the shadow of his Stetson. “Thank you.” She silently mouthed the words as she studied his face. A strong face with honest eyes, she decided. This tall man held far more than her at the moment. He held her future.

  Warm air circled around them. Hank took a deep breath and raised his head.

  When she looked up, a colorful mercantile greeted her. Everything from clothing, blankets, and food supplies to farm equipment and furniture seemed haphazardly piled around them. One man with a wide smile stood in the center of it all.

  “Aggie.” Hank cleared his throat. “I’d like you to meet Jeb Diggs.”

  Jeb Diggs, as round as the potbellied stove he stood beside, hurried toward them. “Well, well, Hank Harris. I didn’t expect to see a soul today, much less you. What you got there?” The fat little man wiggled his eyebrows at Aggie.

  Hank’s hat dripped water as he looked down. “My wife,” he answered as if the two words were all that needed to be said. Leaning, he set her feet on the floor.

  “Mary Carol! Get out here!” Jeb bellowed. “Hank just found him a wife.”

  A woman matching Jeb in size waddled from the back. They both stared at Aggie as if they’d never seen such a strange creature.

  Aggie straightened slowly. “Nice to meet you,” she managed between shivers.

  Hank’s hand spread across her back, steadying her as though he sensed her fear.