Spirit of Love

by Duncan, Alice

  Georgina blinked at her, surprised. Ash loved her? Hmm. You’d never know it to judge by his marriage proposal—if one could call such a grudging command a proposal.

  “Harrumph. Men! They’re all alike. Don’t have him unless he admits he loves you, girl. If you marry him before he declares what’s in his heart, you’ll have to live with doubt for the rest of your life, and you’ll give him an excuse to ride roughshod over you and pretend he was coerced. If he admits he loves you, snap him up. Ash is a good man, but he’s an idiot. They’re all idiots.” Maybelle’s lips pinched together.

  Georgina watched her grandmother and realized the old woman was right. Perhaps she hadn’t been merely stubborn and silly by refusing to marry Devlin O’Rourke all those years. And perhaps she wasn’t being merely stubborn and silly now by not giving in to his silver-tongued pleas. Perhaps she was wise to withhold a promise to the ghost until he did his part. By heaven, it all suddenly made sense to her.

  “You’re right, Grandmother. I do believe you’re right.”

  “Damned straight, I’m right. Lord girl, men have all the rights already. The only thing we women have is control over our own bodies, and half the time people try to make us believe we don’t even have that much. But we do. By God, don’t give yours up until that man tells you exactly what he aims to do with it. You’re a prize, Georgina, and don’t ever let yourself believe otherwise.”

  Vernice nodded. “Wise words, dear. I believe my mother is absolutely correct in this instance.’’

  Maybelle nodded too, although her nod was much more firm than that of her daughter. “I am right. Men have all the property, they have all the money, they have all the power. Hell, if you marry that dunce and it doesn’t work out and you have children, he could even take them away from you if he wanted to. Not that most men want anything to do with their spawn. Idiots. They’re all asses. They drop bastards all over the world as if children were no more important than dog droppings.”

  “Mother!”

  Georgina was rather shocked at her grandmother’s words, too. As much as she deplored Maybelle’s plain speaking, however, she had to admit she’d spoken only the truth. Women got the blame for illegitimate children, but men were probably more at fault than women were. Men had even led women into lustful acts with false promises, and then assumed no responsibility for the consequences.

  She definitely had formed a very low opinion of men since coming to the territory. “I’ll be blasted if I’ll have a man who feels he’s been forced into marrying me.”

  “That’s the ticket!’ Maybelle beamed down at her.

  Vernice nodded. “You’re being very wise, Georgina. And if there should happen to be a sweet little baby, we’ll rear it with all the love and devotion in the world. It won’t miss a thing, dear.”

  That was unquestionably the nicest thing anyone could have said to Georgina right then, and she once again burst into tears under the influence of it. Oscar, disgusted, hissed once and stalked away, his tail switching.

  “And don’t go running to either of those banker fellows, either. They’re even worse than Ash.”

  Through her tears, Georgina nodded. Although her words were watery, she said, “Don’t worry, Grandmother. I wouldn’t have either one of them on a platter.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  The following day, Ash knew what he had to do, so he dressed in his best Sunday suit to do it. He saddled Shiloh and went to town first, just to make sure his sheriff services weren’t needed. He knew he was only putting off the inevitable.

  He was almost in front of his office when he ran into Payton Pierce. Pierce looked like he’d eaten something bitter. Ash tipped his hat, feeling not as ill-disposed toward the banker today as he usually did. Unhappiness did that to a fellow, he reckoned. Drew him closer to his fellow sufferers.

  “Pierce,” he said.

  “Barrett,” Pierce said back. He was making a beeline for his bank, his countenance as unhappy as Ash had ever seen it. Ash shrugged and opened his office door.

  Pierce stopped right before he got to the bank door. “Are you going to be visiting Miss Witherspoon today, Mr. Barrett?”

  Ash turned and frowned at the man, wondering what exactly he was up to. “I don’t know. Why?”

  The banker scowled and kicked a pebble off the boardwalk with some force. “I just wondered. She gave me my walking papers yesterday.”

  Ash’s mouth fell open. He didn’t know what to say.

  “And that grandmother of hers . . . Well, if I ever met a more unpleasant woman in my life, I certainly don’t remember when.”

  The expression on his face was as close to barbaric as it could probably get. Ash hadn’t known he could look like that. He almost liked him for a second or two.

  Pierce went on. “I suppose she’s going to marry that Henry Spurling fellow from New York.”

  Ash gulped. “Really?” His heart gave the hardest spasm of its entire career.

  “That must be it. Why else would she refuse me?”

  Ash could think of at least 146 reasons for a beautiful, vivacious woman like Georgina Witherspoon to refuse to marry Payton Pierce, but he didn’t think it would be polite to enumerate them. He only shook his head.

  “I think she’s making a terrible mistake,” Pierce said. “A terrible mistake. She’ll find out one of these days, when she’s stuck in New York and dreaming about life out here in the territory. I hope she chokes on her decision!” And with that pleasant thought, he opened the door to the bank, went inside, and slammed the door behind him.

  Ash stared after him for several seconds then went into his own office. Frank Dunwiddy was sleeping in his chair, his hat pulled down over his face, resting on his enormous nose. He pushed the hat back and yawned when Ash woke him up.

  “You need me this morning, Frank?”

  Frank eyed him up and down, unused to seeing Ash dressed up. No one was used to seeing Ash dressed up, as a matter of fact. Ash didn’t explain his unusual mode of dress.

  “Naw. Nothing’s going on in town, I reckon.”

  Ash nodded. “Then I’ll be gone for an hour or so. If you need me, I’ll . . .” He’ll what? Shoot, he didn’t want to admit he was going out to the Murphy place to propose to Georgina properly. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” There. He didn’t suppose the town would burn down in a couple of hours. And if it did, well, he’d find another job somewhere else.

  “Fine. You go do what you have to do.”

  Frank grinned at Ash, who didn’t appreciate it. He slammed out of his own office much as Pierce had slammed into his.

  He rehearsed all sorts of proposal scenarios in his head as Shiloh carried him down the road toward the Murphy farm. His main concern was Georgina. Would she still be mad at him? Would she still refuse to marry him?

  Naw. She’d have had a chance by now to think about things, and perceive that there was no alternative for them. They had to get married, whether Ash wanted to or not.

  This morning, after having thought the matter over for most of the night, he wasn’t altogether positive that marriage to Georgina would be as awful as he had originally believed. At least she wasn’t prim and prissy, as Phoebe had been. And she’d probably enjoy the sexual aspects of married life. He got hard, remembering their encounter of the day before, and his mood improved slightly.

  His fair mood crashed into a smoldering heap again when he rode out from between the pecan trees and into the Murphy yard. Hell’s bells, was that Henry Spurling standing on the porch? Aw, hell. Ash pulled Shiloh to a stop and glared at the porch.

  If it was Spurling, and Ash was fairly certain it was, he didn’t look any too happy. He pulled Shiloh behind a pecan tree and watched the scene that was developing on the porch.

  Straining his ears, he could just make out the words being said.

  “But Georgina, you can’t mean it!” Spurling sounded flabbergasted.

  “I do mean it, Henry. Now please go back to town. If you ask, I’
m sure you can get a ticket back to New York soon.”

  Georgina, on the other hand, sounded relatively serene.

  “But—but—but it was decided years ago!”

  “Not by me, it wasn’t.”

  “But surely you’ll do what your parents want you to do, Georgina!”

  “I’d be happy to do what my parents wanted me to do if I thought it would be the right thing for me to do. In this instance, I fear it would be a catastrophe.”

  “A catastrophe! But, Georgina—”

  “Oh. Henry, please just go away! I’m tired of arguing with you. Why do men always want to argue so much?”

  Poor old Henry looked as if he’d never been in such a pickle before. He grabbed his hat from his head and slapped it against his leg. “I can’t believe this! You can’t just send me away, as if I meant no more, to you than—than—than a casual acquaintance!”

  “Of course you’re more than a casual acquaintance, Henry. We’ve known each other all of our lives. I’ve always considered you a friend—one of my very best friends, in fact.”

  “A friend! A friend? Well, I like that!” He turned and stormed to the other end of the porch, then stormed back again.

  Ash rode Shiloh a little closer until he could clearly see Georgina standing in the doorway, looking unruffled and beautiful. Her being unruffled didn’t seem right to him. She ought to be upset. Or angry. Or something. Hell, not only was she no longer a virgin, but there was a raving lunatic stamping around on her front porch.

  “I believe friends are a very important aspect of a person’s life, Henry. I should be happy if you were to consider me your friend.” She smiled one of her sweet smiles at poor old Henry, who still looked fit to be tied.

  “Friends! But we’re going to be married!”

  Georgina shook her head. “No, Henry. I’m sorry if you came all this way on that assumption. I shan’t be marrying you.”

  Satisfaction flooded Ash. So she’d rejected both bankers, had she? That must mean she was ready to accept his proposal and he wouldn’t have to grovel or plead or argue or anything. Thank God. He didn’t think he was up to fighting a battle with her again today.

  Henry stormed back to the door and shook a finger in her face. “Dash it, Georgina, you wait until your parents hear about this! They won’t be pleased! They won’t be pleased one bit! And then what will happen, hmm? Do you think they’re going to allow you to waste yourself on some stupid cowboy?”

  Blinking in time to the movement of his finger, Georgina frowned at Henry. “Whatever are you talking about, Henry? What, cowboy? I don’t believe I know any cowboys. Why should my parents care if I choose not to marry you? I’m sure they only hope for my happiness, and I wouldn’t be happy married to you.”

  “Ha!” said Henry, still wagging his finger.

  “And you wouldn’t be happy married to me, either, so you see we’re both better off this way.”

  Henry stared at her incredulously. His hand dropped to his side. “Better off? But—but—”

  She shook her head. “No, Henry. I’m sorry if you’re surprised about this, but honestly, you assumed too much. You should have asked me before you settled it in your mind that we were to be married.”

  “But—but . . .” Henry’s voice petered out. It looked to Ash as if he was running out of steam. Under the circumstances, he didn’t blame him.

  Georgina adopted a compassionate expression. “I really am sorry you came all this way only to be disappointed, Henry. I wish you’d written me. I could have spared you the long trip to the territory.”

  Henry stared at her for a moment or two before he seemed to shake himself all over. He slammed his hat onto his head. “You haven’t heard the last of this outrage, Georgina! I know very well that your parents aren’t going to allow you to throw your life away in this vile place!”

  “This vile place?” Georgina glanced at the countryside behind Henry as if she couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. “My parents have nothing to say about it, actually.”

  “Nothing to say about it!” Henry goggled at her. “We’ll just see about that! They aren’t going to let you remain here. It’s dangerous! It’s wild! It’s uncivilized!”

  Ash frowned. He didn’t appreciate old Henry’s assessment of his home. Ash liked it here.

  Georgina laughed softly. “Picacho Wells may have one or two wild characteristics, Henry—”

  “One or two!” Obviously, Henry could scarcely credit those words coming from Georgina’s lovely lips.

  “But I love it here. This is a vital, vigorous, thriving community.”

  “Vital? Vigorous? Thriving? You’re out of your mind, Georgina!”

  She offered him another sweet smile. “Then you’re well rid of me, aren’t you?”

  “No, I am not well rid of you! We’ll just see about this.” Henry turned and stormed down the porch steps. “You’re going to many me, Georgina Witherspoon, if it’s the last thing you do!” And with that threat, and with a fierce shaking of his fist, Henry hauled himself up onto his horse—he wasn’t much of a horseman, Ash noted with satisfaction—and rode away, bouncing in the saddle in what looked like a painful manner.

  Georgina sighed once, shook her head again, and went back into the house.

  Ash gulped. It was his turn now. Of course, he had an advantage over those two banker fellows, since he’d already given Georgina a taste of his kind of love. He went hard, remembering, and told himself to stop thinking and act. He had to do this, even if he didn’t want to.

  “Stop remembering your damned marriage, Barrett, or you’ll never get this over with and you know you have to do it,” Ash muttered to himself.

  That bucked him up some He wasn’t the kind of man who’d seduce a female and then abandon her. Not on his life. Not him He was honorable. Hell, he was a Texan. Texans knew right from wrong. They didn’t expect to play without paying.

  Lordy, Ash wished he knew another Texan he could unburden himself on. He was pretty sure most men didn’t fear marriage the same way he did. But that was probably due to the fact that they didn’t know what hell marriage could be.

  “Take it easy, Barrett. All marriages aren’t as bad as yours was,” he said out loud.

  The truth of his simple reminder buoyed him He even managed to dismount, drape Shiloh’s reins over the porch railing, walk up the steps, and knock at the door without losing courage.

  He didn’t doubt that Georgina would accept him. Yesterday she’d been in a tiff of some sort brought about by the shocking nature of their sexual involvement and her own female emotions. Female emotions were always unreliable. Up and down. Wobbly. Unstable.

  Oh, Lord, what had he done?

  Before he had a chance to turn and escape his fate, the door opened and Ash found himself looking down into the beady little eyes of Maybelle Murphy. Damn, he’d been hoping Vernice would answer the door. Vernice wasn’t as crazy as Maybelle or Georgina. Besides, Vernice liked him. He wasn’t sure about the other two. He removed his hat.

  “Morning, Miss Maybelle. How are you today?”

  “What the hell are you doing here, Barrett?”

  Ash felt his eyes widen at Maybelle’s greeting, which hit him like a whiplash. “I—er—I—”

  Aw, dammit. She must know all about what had happened yesterday. Ash stiffened his spine. He had an obligation as a man and a Texan, and he aimed to fulfill it.

  “I’ve come here today to ask for the hand of your granddaughter, Miss Georgina Witherspoon—” Suddenly he wondered what Georgina’s middle name was. He probably should know, if he was going to marry her. “—in marriage.”

  “Oh, you did, did you?”

  This didn’t sound right to him Maybelle ought to be thanking him for doing the right thing. Ash squinted down at her. “Yeah. I did. I came here to ask Georgina to marry me.”

  “Well, you can go away again, because she’s not going to do it.”

  Maybelle stepped back in order to close the door in hi
s face. After the slightest of hesitations brought about by shock, Ash slammed the flat of his hand against the door. “Wait a minute, Maybelle. What do you mean, she’s not going to marry me?”

  “What I said, you stupid man. You got mud in your ears? Now get your hand off the door so I can close the blamed thing.”

  “But—but she has to marry me.”

  “I do not!” piped a voice from behind Maybelle. Ash looked around her to see Georgina standing there, her fists on her hips, looking ready to shoot him if he didn’t get his hand off the door.

  “You heard her, Sheriff. She doesn’t have to do anything if she doesn’t want to,” Maybelle said.

  “But—but we—we—”

  “You had a grand old tumble in the hay yesterday. Yes, Ash, I know all about it.”

  Ash couldn’t recall the last time he’d blushed, but it had probably been more than twenty years ago. He blushed now, though, hot as a firecracker, and felt foolish. Nevertheless, he knew where his duty lay. “Then you know we have to get married now, Miss Maybelle. We have to.”

  “Horse shit. If that’s not the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in all my born days, I don’t know what is!”

  “Maybelle,” Ash said, getting peeved, “don’t be silly. We committed a—a sin.”

  “Pshaw!”

  “Dammit, most people think it is! It’s customary for a couple to get married after they . . . do that.”

  “It’s customary to get married before they do that, you skunk!”

  She had him there. Ash grumbled, “All right. But we didn’t wait, and now we have to get married for Georgina’s sake.”

  Maybelle guffawed again. “Get out of here, Ash. You can go straight to hell.”

  “And don’t stop for water on your way,” added Georgina in a loud voice that didn’t have a hint of flexibility in it.

  And, since Ash made the mistake of scratching his head, thus removing his hand from the door, Maybelle slammed it in his face. He staggered backward several paces and stared at the door. It didn’t open again.

  Well, hell. Here he was, behaving in the time-honored manner prescribed for a gentleman under these circumstances, doing the right thing, performing his duty as a man and a Texan, and he gets the door slammed in his face. Ash scratched his head again, put his hat on, took it back off, stared at the door, and thought hard.