The Courtship of Izzy McCree

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  “Yes, Pa. And, Pa?”

  Matt opened the door, then turned.

  Across the barn, his son looked suddenly young and scared, with the blanket draped around his shoulders, his eyes wide in the lantern light. “You might want to try asking Miss McCree, instead of making it sound like a command. You know, like honey instead of a stick.”

  Matt nodded. “Thanks, son. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Izzy looked around the bedroom, which was as filthy as the rest of the cabin. Some of Matthew’s clothes hung on pegs along one wall. A couple of shirts. Some pants. The rest had been dropped on the floor. A parka made of some kind of animal fur. Boots, one near the door, the other clear across the room. As though he’d tossed them, or more than likely kicked them, in a fit of temper.

  There was a dust-covered dresser, with drawers that had fancy knobs. Above the dresser was an oval mirror, cracked down the middle. She turned away, not wanting to look at herself.

  She thought about tidying up the room, but the truth was, she was exhausted. And she still had to wash her clothes in preparation for the difficult journey ahead, since these were the only clothes she owned.

  She pulled a very small, very sharp knife from its sheath beneath her sash and hid it under her pillow. Then she sat down tentatively on the edge of the bed. The mattress was rough and scratchy. And lumpy. She wasn’t surprised. It suited this place. With slow, tired movements she untied her new shoes and set them carefully aside. At once her feet began to throb and she had to wiggle her toes for long minutes before she could stand. Then she stripped off her gown and petticoats and peeled off her heavy cotton stockings. Finally she slipped out of her chemise and stood shivering until she was able to pull on her night shift.

  Carrying all her clothes to the other room, she dropped them into the basin and filled it with hot water. Quickly, efficiently, she scrubbed her clothes, then draped them over the rough kitchen chairs to dry. That done, she added another log to the fire and made her way to the bedroom.

  The bed looked sturdy enough, having been carved from rough logs. And at least, she thought, the chickens hadn’t invaded this space.

  She blew out the lantern, then climbed into bed.

  She wished she’d been able to do more work before giving up, but the truth was, she was utterly exhausted. And she was facing a long, arduous journey in the morning.

  Hugging the blanket to her chin, she huddled into a little ball and fell asleep.

  Matt let himself into the still, silent cabin, then breathed deeply. It smelled different. It smelled…clean. Surprised, he stared around. Though it was by no means spotless, it was cleaner than he’d seen it in a year. Much of the rubble had been swept up, and the rest lay in piles along one wall. The indignities left by the chickens had been cleaned up, as well.

  By the light of the fire, the filmy, feminine clothes draped over the chairs looked like ghostly specters, mocking him. He walked closer and touched a hand to the delicate chemise. It was as soft as a cobweb and he found himself remembering things better left forgotten.

  With a thoughtful frown he walked to the fireplace and, reaching into his pocket, withdrew an envelope and tossed it into the fire. He watched as the blaze licked along the paper, curling it, then bursting it into flame. In an instant the envelope, and the letter inside, had burned to ash.

  Odd, he thought. He ought to feel something. Instead, he felt nothing. No pain. No sorrow at his loss. Nothing. Only a sort of numbness where the ache had been for so long.

  He struck a match and lifted it to the lantern’s wick. Holding the lantern aloft, he walked into the bedroom.

  He felt a momentary shock when he saw the woman lying in his bed. It jolted his already overcharged system to see the spill of plain brown hair curling softly on the pillow. The blanket had slipped, revealing a creamy neck and shoulder and, beneath the modest neckline of a nightgown, the darkened cleft between her breasts.

  He walked closer, lifting the lantern for a better look.

  That’s when she sat up with a cry of alarm.

  “Who…? What…? Sweet salvation. What are you doing here?”

  The blanket dipped lower, showing an expanse of flesh that had him sweating.

  “Sorry. I didn’t want to…I came here to…” He stopped, swallowed, then tried again. “Seeing as how my children do need a ma, and a woman could be a help around here, I thought I’d give you a choice.”

  “Choice?” She was more awake now, though still confused. Behind her, her hand went automatically to the knife beneath her pillow, closed around it. “I don’t understand. Aren’t you going to take me to Sutton’s Station in the morning?”

  “Yes. Of course.” He nodded for emphasis. He was handling this badly. But he was determined to bluff his way through, now that he’d started. “But what we do there will be up to you. You can take what little money I have saved, and see how far it will get you. Or—” he swallowed and forced himself to finish before he lost his nerve “—we can find a minister and have a proper wedding, so you can live here as my wife.”

  “Your…” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Maybe she was still asleep and dreaming.

  No. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. Matthew Prescott was standing here, leaving the choice to her. She could go back to the life she’d always known, or risk it all for a life with this harsh, unyielding man.

  “I won’t push for your answer now.” He abruptly lowered the lantern and turned on his heel. He had to get out of here. Now. While he still had some of his senses. The sight of those soft female curves had his heart racing and his temples throbbing. “Sleep on it. You can tell me what you’d like in the morning.” At the door he paused, his look dark and unfathomable. “I’ll understand if you can’t find it in your heart to stay.”

  “Matthew…”

  “Good night.” He strode quickly from the room.

  She heard the door shut, heard the crunch of his footsteps receding as he made his way to the barn.

  She released her hold on the knife and lay in the darkness, wondering what to make of their conversation. Had he really had a change of heart? Or was there something else going on here? Something she ought to be wary of?

  She hugged the blanket to her chin, grateful for the brief sleep she’d had before he had intruded. It would probably be all the sleep she would get the rest of the night.

  Chapter Three

  The sky was still awash with stars, but Izzy knew there was no point in staying in bed. She had replayed in her mind every detail of her arrival in this strange place. She had repeated every cutting word, every stinging remark that had been uttered by Matthew Prescott. What could she possibly hope to gain by marrying him and staying here? From all she had witnessed, most men didn’t improve with age. If anything, they got worse. Could she possibly embrace the harshness of the life that loomed before her?

  Still, the plight of his children tugged at her. It was obvious that they needed help. Aaron had said it all. The hogs lived better than they did. She’d seen that for herself.

  And there was one other thing. She couldn’t think of a better option. She could marry Matthew Prescott or return to the life she’d left behind. And she would rather die than go back.

  She only hoped that, in time, death wouldn’t prove to have been the wiser choice.

  She wrapped herself in the blanket and made her way to the other room in search of her clothes. Instead of the still, silent cabin, she found a blazing fire and Matthew, seated at the table, drinking coffee.

  She came to an abrupt halt. “I thought…you’d still be sleeping.”

  “Long day ahead.” No sense telling her he’d been up all night, fretting. “Thought I’d get an early start.”

  “Yes. I…thought the same.” She circled the table, collecting her clothes. When she picked up her chemise, she saw the way his gaze fastened on it, and her cheeks flamed.

  As she started toward the bedroom, his words stopped her in her tracks.

>   “You’re limping, Miss McCree. Did you hurt yourself?”

  “No. Yes.” She swallowed and tried again, keeping her head averted. “Nothing serious. I…stubbed my toe.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” He scraped back his chair. Before she could escape he was touching her, his hand on her arm, his voice full of concern. “I’ll get a lantern.”

  “There’s no need.” But she couldn’t flee. Couldn’t move. The touch of him caused a flare of heat that caught her by surprise.

  “I guess, because I’m so familiar with this old cabin, I forget the need for more lanterns.” Up close she had a clean soap-and-water smell that was appealing. Even her hair smelled fresh, like a windswept meadow after a rain.

  “It’s just me.” She swallowed, hating the nerves that had her quivering. But he was too close. Overpowering. She needed to step back. But the touch of his hand had her frozen. “I’ve always been clumsy.”

  “I find that hard to believe, Miss McCree.” Very carefully he lifted his hand. But the heat of her body stayed with him.

  “I’ll just—” she turned away, feeling confused and breathless “—get dressed now.”

  In her haste to flee, her limp was even more pronounced. When she reached the bedroom, she closed the door, then leaned against it, breathing hard.

  Sweet salvation. What had she been thinking of, going out there barefoot? The last thing she had expected was to find him already in the house.

  Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the bed, where she deposited her clothes. Then, dropping the blanket, she dressed hurriedly. When she had smoothed down her skirts and carefully brushed and tamed her hair, she slipped on her new shoes and tied them.

  She took a few more minutes to make up the bed and tidy the room. Then she walked slowly, evenly, to the door.

  As she’d feared, Matthew was still seated at the table. To make matters worse, the children had drifted down from their sleeping loft and were busy making breakfast. Aaron, still picking straw from his hair, ambled in from the barn, carrying a bucket of fresh milk. The hounds bounded in on his heels and began sniffing around the table.

  “There’s coffee on the fire,” Matt said as he lifted his cup.

  “Thank you. Would you like me to help with breakfast?”

  “There’s no need. The children will take care of it.”

  That’s what she’d feared. Already Aaron was slicing the bloody beef, and Clement was heating last night’s biscuits over the fire.

  “I could fetch some eggs,” she volunteered.

  “That’s Del’s job.” Aaron wiped his knife on his pants and set a platter of beef on the table.

  The little girl entered the cabin carrying a basket of eggs.

  “How many did you get?” her brother asked.

  “I could only find seven that weren’t broken. The hens laid some of them right in the straw where the cows walked. There were smashed eggs everywhere, Pa.”

  Matt winced. “That’s all right. As long as the cows didn’t step on your hens, they’ll lay more tomorrow. Go ahead and fry up what you found.”

  Del broke the eggs into a skillet, picking out eggshells as she worked. Then she set the pan over the fire. A few minutes later she carried a platter of congealed eggs to the table and everybody began spooning some onto their plates.

  “Pass some to Miss McCree,” Matt commanded.

  “No, thank you.” Izzy handed the platter to Benjamin and nibbled on a biscuit. She had softened it by dipping it into her coffee.

  “That’s all you’re having?” Matt studied her. If anything, she looked even more pale and delicate than when she’d arrived yesterday. And far too skinny.

  “I’m really not hungry.” She wondered how anyone could work up an appetite for such fare.

  “I’ll have a couple of those eggs, Del.” Matt took the platter and slid a blob onto his plate.

  Izzy watched in silence while the children and their father shoveled food into their mouths and ate mechanically, washing it down with gulps of milk. Whenever they bit into something hard or distasteful, they merely spit it into their hands and opened up their fingers behind their backs. One of the hounds would snap it up.

  “You’re awfully quiet this morning, Miss McCree.” Aaron stopped eating for a moment to study her carefully.

  “I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess—” Izzy nodded “—I guess I am.”

  “Because you’re leaving?” Del asked.

  “No. Just because today is a…special day.”

  “What’s special about today?” Matt asked.

  She turned to him and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, Matthew, it’s our wedding day.” There. She’d said it aloud.

  The children stared first at her, then at their father.

  Aaron let out a whoop. “You mean it, Miss McCree? You’re going to marry Pa?”

  She nodded. “As long as he agrees.”

  Matt had been busy swallowing his fourth biscuit. Now it stuck like a stone in his throat, and he had to gulp a cup of scalding coffee to get it down. He glanced at his four children, then at the woman who was watching his face with such intensity. “I believe I said my piece last night, Miss McCree. All I needed was your answer.”

  “Now you have it.”

  With absolutely no expression he studied her, as though searching for something in her eyes. Abruptly he pushed away from the table. “I’ll hitch up the team. We have a long ride ahead of us.”

  “What about the children?” she called to his retreating back.

  He turned. “What about them?”

  “I think it would be nice if they came along.”

  He could see the pleading in the children’s eyes and tried to ignore it. “They’re needed here. To do the chores.”

  “Maybe if we all pitched in,” she suggested, “we could do at least the necessary chores and leave the rest until we returned.”

  “I’ll do double duty tomorrow, Pa,” Aaron promised.

  “Me, too,” Benjamin put in quickly.

  It was on the tip of Matt’s tongue to refuse. Instead he turned away, calling over his shoulder, “One hour. But we’ll have to catch up when we get home.”

  He didn’t stay around long enough to see the excitement in the children’s eyes. But Izzy saw it and was warmed by it. Maybe what she was about to do wouldn’t seem so bad, as long as she knew they would benefit.

  Wasn’t that why she had suggested they come along? She’d like to think so. But the truth was, she hadn’t wanted to be alone with her husband-to-be.

  The horses and wagon had been heading downward for hours. When they had started out in the mountains, the air had been crisp and cold. But now there was only bright, clear sunshine and a breeze so fresh and clean it almost hurt to breathe it in.

  Izzy was crowded onto the seat beside Matt, with Aaron next to her. In the back Benjamin, Clement and Del were laughing and teasing, clearly overjoyed at the thought of escaping their daily chores for a rare visit to civilization.

  The horses crossed a long, flat stretch of meadow before splashing through a stream. Izzy held tightly to the seat of the wagon as the horses fought their way up the bank.

  “Careful.” Matt caught her when she swayed. Like the first time he’d touched her, the flare of heat was instantaneous, and she had to fight the urge to push away.

  “I’m fine.” She lowered her shawl and lifted her face to the sun. “Why did you build your home so high in the mountains, when the weather seems so much gentler here?”

  “Look around you.” He pointed to several ranch houses in the distance. “That’s the way most folks think. They want to settle where it’s easy. Where they’ll have friends and neighbors. And pretty soon someone else will be making the rules for them. They won’t be able to move without stepping on someone else’s property. Then they’ll find themselves fighting someone else’s battles and even breathing someone else’s air.”

  Izzy breathed deeply, hoping to
diffuse the anger simmering in his tone. “It smells fresh and clean to me.”

  “Give it time, Miss McCree. With enough people, they’ll find a way to foul even the air.”

  She shot him a quick, sideways glance. “I take it you don’t have much use for people.”

  “I can take them or leave them. Long as they don’t cross me or mine.”

  He flicked the reins and the team moved smartly. After crossing another meadow, they looked down on a pretty valley. Clustered in the middle were several houses, as well as a saloon and a general store.

  “That’s Sutton’s Station. Old man Sutton was the first to settle here. He runs the boardinghouse and stagecoach stop.”

  As they drew closer, Izzy saw hat one of the houses was a dispensary, and another bore a wooden sign proclaiming it a house of worship.

  When Matt turned the team toward the general store, Izzy pointed toward the church. “Shouldn’t we be looking for the preacher?”

  He nodded. “That’s what I’m doing. But he won’t be there. He’s only there on Sunday. The rest of the week he can be found at the saloon.”

  He pulled up in front of the store and climbed down to secure the team. Then, leaving Izzy and the children in the wagon, he made his way to the saloon.

  Izzy watched his smooth, easy stride until her glance was caught by movement in the upper window of the saloon. A woman wearing what appeared to be nothing more than a chemise and petticoat stood in full view, watching her. Then she abruptly lowered the curtain and disappeared.

  Izzy sat very straight and tall, wondering if the children had noticed the brazen display. But they were busy watching a group of children who had abandoned their game of hide-and-seek to walk closer and look over the newcomers.

  “You here to trade goods?” a little boy called.

  Aaron, Clement and Benjamin remained silent, refusing to even look at the boy.

  “Uh-uh.” When her brothers refused to respond, Del chose to answer for all of them. “Our pa’s getting married today.”