The Courtship of Izzy McCree

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  “Take all the time you need.” Matt poured himself another cup of coffee and turned from the fire, pleased with himself. When he spotted Aaron still seated at the table, he took the seat across from him.

  “Something on your mind, son?”

  “No, sir. Yes, sir. I mean…” The boy ducked his head, then slowly lifted his gaze to his father. “You’re different this morning.”

  “I am?” Matt set down his cup and crossed his arms on the table. Then he slowly nodded his head. “I guess I am. Marriage to the right woman does that. Softens some of the hard edges. Makes you want to do nice things for the people you love. You don’t mind?”

  “No, sir. I’m glad. And I’m glad you stopped Sergeant Cutler from hurting Isabella.”

  “I’m not proud of fighting, but it had to be done.” Matt stood and rounded the table, dropping a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. “I have you to thank for all this. For making us a family again.”

  “I didn’t do that, Pa. Isabella did.”

  Slowly Matt absorbed the jolt of knowledge and nodded his head. “I guess you’re right, son. It is Isabella who’s made us a family again.”

  “And I sure am glad that you and Isabella finally found that…sweetening you told me about, Pa.” With a grin, the boy pushed away from the table and hurried out the door.

  Matt waited until the door closed behind him. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. They’d found the sweetening, all right. And by God, it was finer than old wine.

  “Do you know any good songs, Isabella?” As the wagon rolled across the meadow, the children’s voices rang with dozens of questions.

  Izzy turned on the hard wooden seat and faced the children, who were lounging in the back of the wagon, along with the eager hounds, who were clearly enjoying this rare treat. “Most of the songs I learned in the tavern aren’t fit for children’s ears. But I do remember one I used to hear the people singing in church.”

  “I thought your pa was the pastor,” Del said innocently.

  Izzy braced herself, prepared to answer truthfully. The boys would have absorbed some of the facts from what Sergeant Cutler had said. But most would have been lost on this innocent little girl. “That was a lie, Del. I made that up, because I wished I had folks like the reverend and his wife. The truth is, I grew up in a foundling home.”

  “You mean you were an orphan?”

  “That’s right.”

  “If you never knew your folks, how’d you get to be such a good ma?” Clement asked.

  Did he have any idea what a compliment he’d just paid her? Izzy had to swallow twice before she could find her voice. “I guess…I just try to be the kind of mother I’d always wished for.”

  She felt a squeeze of her hand and looked down to find that Matt had linked his fingers with hers.

  “I know a song,” he said. To lighten the mood he led them in a spirited rendition of “Amazing Grace.” Through it all, Izzy watched and listened in wonder. His voice was a rich, clear baritone.

  “You sing it better than our town’s minister did.”

  He made a slight bow. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Where did you learn the words, Pa?” Aaron asked.

  “When I was a boy, my folks and I sang it every Sunday, with the rest of the people in our congregation.”

  “Then how come you told us you didn’t know how to pray?” Benjamin asked accusingly.

  Matt winced. “I guess I’m guilty of lying, too.”

  “But why?” his son demanded.

  “Maybe there’s just been too much anger in me to allow any room for good things, like laughter, or songs, or prayers.”

  Del touched a hand to his shoulder. “Is the anger all gone, Pa?”

  Matt nodded. “I certainly hope so.”

  “Is it gone ‘cause you beat up on Sergeant Cutler?” Clement asked.

  “Maybe. But I think the real reason might be Isabella.” Again he squeezed her hand and saw the flush that stole over her cheeks. His tone warmed. “She just makes it easy to forget everything except the good things.”

  “Wait till you see the good things she packed in the picnic basket,” Del said with a grin.

  “Sh.” Izzy put a finger to her mouth. “That’s our secret, remember, Del?”

  “Oh. Yes’m. I almost forgot.”

  The two shared a conspiratorial smile.

  Benjamin pointed to the dusty toes of her boots, poking out from beneath the hem of her skirt. “How come you’re not wearing your shiny shoes today, Isabella?”

  Aaron gave him a swift punch in the arm to silence him. “Don’t you know anything?”

  Surprised, Benjamin punched him back. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means if you had any sense at all you wouldn’t ask such a question. You’re as dumb as those boys in town.”

  “Am not.” The younger boy looked wounded and baffled.

  “Are, too.” Aaron doubled up his fist, prepared to land another blow.

  “Wait.” Izzy touched a hand to his arm. “Thank you for defending me, Aaron. But Benjamin didn’t mean anything by his question. And he deserves an answer.” She turned to the others. “I was born with one leg shorter than the other. My shoes add just enough height so that my limp isn’t noticeable. But they’re very heavy, because of the added weight, and must be laced very tightly. So I thought I’d give my feet a rest today. Especially since your father assured me he doesn’t mind that I limp.”

  “I don’t mind, either, Isabella,” Benjamin said softly.

  “Neither do I,” Clement chimed in.

  Following her brothers’ lead, Del echoed their words. “Me, neither. You’re still pretty. And you cook better’n anybody in the world.”

  Izzy leaned over the seat and gave each of them a hug, reserving the biggest hug for Aaron, who had jumped to her defense. She leaned back, enjoying the wind in her hair, the sun on her face. And enjoying most of all the realization that the girl who had spent a lifetime alone was suddenly surrounded by fierce protectors.

  Matt glanced over and saw the tears she was trying to blink away. “How about another song?”

  Minutes later the air was filled with laughter as he led them through a chorus of silly rhyming words he’d learned as a boy. Hearing the laughter of Matt and his children, Izzy dried her tears and found herself laughing along with them.

  Her heart had never felt so light. Or so filled with love.

  “This looks like a good spot.” Matt reined in the team and climbed down from the wagon, then lifted his arms to assist Izzy. But instead of setting her down, he swung her around and around before pressing a kiss to her temple.

  “Matthew.” She blushed and glanced at the children and dogs scrambling from the back of the wagon. “What will they think?”

  “That I’ve completely lost my senses.” He kissed her again, then set her on her feet and retrieved the food basket. As he handed it to her, he leaned close. “Maybe we could send them to play in the fields for an hour. Then I could do more than just kiss you.”

  “Matthew Jamison Prescott.” She shot him a horrified look. “I believe you have lost your senses.”

  “Maybe I’ve just found them.” He touched a hand to her cheek. “Thanks to you, Isabella.”

  With the hounds leaping about in a frenzy of activity, Matt went off with the boys in search of wood for a fire, leaving Izzy and Del to lay out the food.

  “Pa’s acting funny.” Del helped Izzy spread a blanket beside a stream. “He never even mentioned our chores.”

  “Maybe he needs a day to recover from his wounds.”

  The little girl shrugged. “He doesn’t act like he’s hurting. He just isn’t acting like Pa.”

  Izzy set a crock of lemonade in the stream to cool, then brushed her damp hands down her skirt. “Is that good or bad?”

  Del brightened. “It’s really good, Isabella. There were a lot of times that I thought Pa had forgotten how to smile.”

  I
zzy felt an ache around her heart. For the man who had lost his reason to smile. For the children who had been forced to watch helplessly while he worked his way through his grief. But at least, she thought, they’d had each other. And now they had her, as well. She whispered a solemn vow to do everything in her power to see that they always had a reason to smile.

  “Come on.” She dropped an arm around the little girl’s shoulders and led her toward the picnic basket. “Let’s turn this meal into a feast.”

  It was indeed a feast. Rabbit, cooked over the fire until the meat fell from the bones. Venison steaks, brushed with honey and sizzling over the flames. Biscuits so light they melted in the mouth. Potatoes, carrots and turnips simmered in broth and mashed together with butter. And to top it all off, little tarts filled with apples and cinnamon.

  The children had climbed trees, turned cartwheels and chased after the hounds, working up fierce appetites. Matt and Aaron had chopped down a dead tree and loaded the logs into the back of the wagon.

  Now, replete, refreshed, Matt rolled a cigarette, then lifted a burning twig from the fire and held it to the tip. “I don’t believe I’ve ever eaten anything so fine.” He drew smoke into his lungs and leaned back against the trunk of a tree.

  “There’s still one tart left.” Izzy glanced around, but the children had wandered off and were engaged in a game of tag.

  “Not even one more bite. Sit here with me.”

  “I should clean up a few things first.”

  “We came here to relax, Isabella. Not to make more work for you.” He patted the grass beside him. “Come here.”

  With a sigh, she sank down beside him and stretched her feet toward the fire. They sat in companionable silence, listening to the laughter of the children drifting on the breeze.

  Matt drew up one leg, resting his arms on his knee. “It’s good to hear them laugh again.”

  “Losing their mother…” Izzy touched a hand to his sleeve. “I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for them. For you.”

  He shook his head. “I only made things worse for them. I had all this anger. And no one to direct it at except them. I’m lucky they don’t hate me.”

  “Matthew. How could they hate you?” Her fingers tightened on his arm. “You’re their father.”

  “Do you think that’s enough?” His tone was rougher than he’d intended. “Do you really believe that just being a parent will make us good? That our children should forgive our every fault?”

  “I think—” seeing the mixture of pain and anger in his eyes, she chose her words carefully “—that children are capable of forgiving almost anything, as long as they know that their parents are sorry.”

  “Ah. Repentance.” He took a deep drag on the cigarette, filling his lungs. “I’ve known enough of that to last a lifetime.”

  He tossed aside the stub, watching as the flames devoured it. When he looked up, the anger had seeped away. He glanced across the meadow, where the children were tossing sticks to the dogs and chasing furiously after them when they failed to bring them back.

  “I think this might be the perfect time to see if I can steal more than a kiss.”

  She pretended to be shocked. But when he gathered her close, her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips parted in anticipation. He kissed her long and slow and deep. At her eager response, he felt a wave of heat that started at his toes and shot straight to his loins.

  Just then Del ran up, chasing one of the hounds, and nearly tripped over them.

  “Come on, Pa,” she called. “You’ve got to help me catch Shilo. He’s got one of my boots in his mouth.”

  “Matthew, those are the only boots she owns,” Izzy whispered.

  He groaned and pressed his forehead to hers. Then, banking his inner fire, he gave her a quick, hard kiss before getting to his feet. As he helped her up he whispered, “I’ll chase the fool dog now. But when we get back to the cabin tonight, don’t forget where we left off.”

  She laughed as he raced off beside his daughter. But as she began clearing up the remains of their picnic, she had to stop and touch her hands to her hot cheeks. Just thinking about the pleasures that awaited her had her heart fluttering like a caged bird.

  She wouldn’t forget. Nor would she ever have enough of Matthew’s loving.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Izzy lay in the big bed, feeling oddly comforted by the steady rise and fall of Matt’s chest. She’d never known such peace.

  Last night, driving home from the meadow, she had experienced such a torrent of emotions. Bittersweet longing at the press of his hip against hers on the hard wooden seat as they jolted along in the wagon. A rush of tenderness at the sight of Matt carrying his sleeping daughter to her bed in the loft. And then, when he’d come to her with that dark look and kissed her until she was breathless, she’d experienced a wild rush of need, so hot, so swift it left her shaken to the core.

  This man, so angry, so wounded, touched her in a way no other man ever could.

  He had overcome all her fears, beaten down all her defenses. She felt safe with him. No harm could possibly touch her here. Best of all, she felt free to be herself. No more pretenses. No more lies. She had finally found…home. The realization brought a mist of tears to her eyes.

  “I know I look pretty rough. But am I so repulsive I make you cry?”

  “Matthew.” She sat up, hair tumbling. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “You didn’t. I woke myself. Now, what’s so terrible it has you shedding tears?”

  “They’re happy tears. I was thinking how much I love you. And your children. And this cabin.”

  He didn’t know what had him more shaken. Her simple honesty. Or the fact that he’d never expected to hear those words again in his lifetime. His heart seemed to swell until it was too big for his chest.

  “Come here.” He gathered her into his arms and pressed his lips to her temple. His hands began a slow, rhythmic exploration. “Looks like we’ve both caught it,” he muttered against a tangle of hair.

  “Caught what?”

  “The fever. There’s no cure. But there is a treatment I highly recommend.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  He began unbuttoning her night shift. His lips followed the trail of his fingers. “This. And this. Hmm. And this.”

  With exquisite tenderness he showed her, more than any words ever could, the depth of his love.

  “Pa. You in there? Isabella? Anybody?”

  At the sound of Aaron’s voice, Izzy stirred in Matt’s arms, then, as the realization dawned that she and Matt had fallen back asleep, she sat up.

  “Matthew. Sweet salvation. It’s late morning. The children…”

  “Will be just fine.” He drew her down for a long, leisurely kiss. “It won’t hurt them to wait a few minutes for their breakfast.”

  “But they’ll think we’re…” She pushed against him, struggling to sit up. Her cheeks were crimson. “They’ll know that we…”

  “That we slept together? That we loved?” He chuckled. “Isabella, how long will it take you to accept the fact that we’re married? That we have the right to enjoy a little private time together?”

  “I guess—” she looked away “—old habits are hard to change.”

  “It’s all right.” He sat up and drew her back against him, trailing his lips along the back of her neck. “I’m grateful for all those years you were overly modest. Now I don’t ever have to imagine another man’s hands touching you.”

  As she sighed and angled her head, giving him easier access, he murmured, “But I’m even more grateful that you’re such a quick study.”

  “I have learned a lot. Thanks to your patient instructions.”

  “Not nearly as patient as you think.” He bit back a smile, thinking about all the passion, the frustration he’d had to deal with.

  Izzy sighed. She could go on like this forever, just being held in Matthew’s arms and kissed so sweetly. She turned and brushed h
er lips over his before sliding out of bed. “Now let’s get dressed, before Aaron decides to fix breakfast himself.”

  That had Matt slipping into his trousers and tugging on his boots. “This could be dangerous. I don’t think I could stand to go back to those days of half-cooked meat and biscuits as hard as bullets.”

  The two of them were still chuckling when they stepped out of the bedroom.

  Aaron was at the door, lugging a pail of milk. Del had just entered with a basket filled with eggs. Benjamin and Clement were washing up in the basin by the door. The hounds were milling about, eager to be fed.

  Izzy was a model of efficiency as she set a pan of biscuit dough on the fire, scrambled a bowl of eggs and sliced meat. Handing the scraps to Clement, she said, “Take the dogs outside, please, Clement. I think this should satisfy them.”

  “Yes’m.” He held the door and the hounds raced ahead of him.

  Without a word, Del and Benjamin began to set the table, while Aaron filled their glasses with milk.

  Matt stirred the coals in the fireplace and added a log. As the flames licked along the bark he glanced around at the tranquil scene. It amazed him that only weeks ago they had faced each day with dread. Their days had consisted of a meal of hard biscuits and half-cooked meat, endless hours of backbreaking work and an even drearier evening meal, before falling into bed, too exhausted to even dream.

  “Breakfast is ready,” Izzy announced.

  Matt and the children took their places at the table, and she began passing the platters of food.

  As she took her place at the table, Matt shocked her by saying, “Why don’t you teach us one of your blessings, Isabella?”

  For the space of a heartbeat she could only stare at him. Then, bowing her head, she murmured, “Bless this food. And those who share it.”

  “Amen,” Matt said.

  The children, who had watched and listened in wide-eyed silence, followed his lead and repeated, “Amen.”

  “Was that praying?” Del asked innocently.

  Color flooded Izzy’s cheeks. “I don’t know any real prayers. These are just some things I made up, so I’d feel like those folks who went to Sunday prayer meetings.”