The Courtship of Izzy McCree

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Matt reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of bills. When he handed them to Aaron he saw the boy’s jaw drop. “You did the work of a man, son. You deserve to share the profits. I only wish it could be more.”

  He walked away before Aaron could protest. But minutes later, as he climbed up into the wagon and took his place beside Izzy, he was rewarded by the sight of his son stepping into the afternoon sunshine wearing a black cowboy hat and shiny black boots.

  The boy who had entered the store was transformed before their eyes into a man. One who stood tall, walked proud and squeezed the hand of the girl standing beside him.

  “I’ll be back in the spring, Sara Jane,” he called as he sprinted to the wagon and pulled himself up to the seat beside Izzy.

  “I’ll be here waiting, Aaron.”

  Matt flicked the reins and the team leaned into the harness. As the wagon pulled ahead, Aaron turned to wave. His sister and brothers did the same, until the town and its occupants were out of sight.

  Then, for a brief time, they all fell silent, replaying in their minds the excitement of the day, hugging tightly to the memories. For the first time that any of them could recall, they had touched, and been touched warmly by, strangers. And had parted friends.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sky was awash with stars. An occasional cloud scudded across the moon, obliterating its light. The night breeze had died, leaving the land hushed and silent, except for the call of a wolf.

  Izzy had long ago given in to sleep, her head resting on Matt’s shoulder. In the back of the wagon, the children had curled up beneath the blankets and were dreaming.

  Smoke from Matt’s cigar spiraled upward and dissipated into the night air. He glanced over his wife’s head to where his oldest son sat staring into the darkness.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Something on your mind, son?”

  “No, sir.” Aaron cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. How does a man know…? That is, how can you tell when you meet the right woman?”

  “I guess—” Matt blew out a stream of smoke “—there’s no sure way of knowing. Some of us make some mighty big mistakes before we get it right.”

  “But what makes it right?”

  Matt shook his head. “It’s surely not the way a woman looks, though that’s most often what we notice first. And it’s not the way she dresses, or the color of her eyes or hair. I guess it’s something your heart sees. A goodness in her heart that reaches out to yours.”

  The boy was silent for a long time before he said softly, “Sara Jane sure is sweet.”

  Matt drew on his cigar. “She seems to be. But looks can be deceiving. You didn’t get to spend much time with her.”

  “An hour. Maybe two. I guess it’ll be a while before I get to see her again.”

  “And when you do, you might be different. Or it might be Sara Jane who’s different.”

  “In what way?”

  Matt shrugged. “One of you might grow up more than the other. Or want something more out of life. You’ve both got a heap of growing to do yet.”

  “Yes, sir. But what if we both still feel the same way?”

  Matt tossed his cigar into a stream and wrapped a steadying arm around his sleeping wife before the team stepped into the icy water. “You’re thinking about love and marriage and forever after?”

  Aaron ducked his head. “I didn’t think I’d ever want that. Not after you and Ma…” He cleared his throat again. “But now…I guess that’s what I’m thinking. But how will I know when I’m ready? When she’s ready?”

  Matt guided the team up the opposite bank, pleased that his wife continued to sleep. “I don’t know that I’m the right one to ask. I’m much better at understanding mustangs than I am people. But I’d say that with each season you’ll have a clearer idea of what you want out of life. And who you want to share that life with.” He turned and gave his son an encouraging smile. “Now, that ought to give you plenty to chew on over the long winter, son.”

  “Isabella.”

  She felt the gentle shake and looked up, confused for a moment, until she saw the darkened outline of their cabin and heard the baying of the hounds.

  “Are we home already?”

  He wondered if she knew how easily the word home had come to her lips. “Yes. Here, I’ll lift you down.”

  She touched her hands to his shoulders and felt his strong arms around her. As he slowly lowered her to the ground, he brushed his lips over hers. The flare of heat was instantaneous.

  “Would you like a late supper before we go to bed?” she asked.

  “What I’d like,” he muttered against her mouth, “is to take you to bed right now. But I think the children will be hungry after their journey.”

  “I’ll see to it.” She turned away and let herself into the cabin, with the dogs close on her heels.

  One by one the children followed, clutching their parcels. Without a word of direction each of them took up a chore until, in no time, the cabin was warmed by the blazing log on the hearth and made cheery by the fragrance of meat sizzling in a pan and coffee boiling over the fire.

  “It’s nice not to have to shoo the chickens out, isn’t it, Pa?” Del was happily setting the table.

  “I’d say so.” He set a second log on the fire and got to his feet.

  “And it smells a whole lot better in here, too, since they have their own coop.” Aaron carefully hung his new hat on a peg by the door, then slipped out of his boots and began to rub the dust from them with his sleeve.

  “Everything’s a whole lot better since Isabella came to live with us.” Benjamin held a match to the lantern and set it on a corner table, where it cast a golden glow over everything.

  He and Clement exchanged knowing smiles. “Would you like to see what we bought, Pa?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to eat first?”

  Both boys shook their heads.

  “All right.” Matt poured himself a steaming cup of coffee and turned from the fire. “Let’s see how you spent your hard-earned money.”

  “Isabella, you have to look,” Benjamin called.

  She carried a platter of cold meat and bread to the table. “I can see from here.”

  “No.” With an air of mystery the two boys led her toward a chair and forced her to sit.

  “You open it, Isabella.” Clement placed a large parcel wrapped in brown paper onto her lap.

  “But why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  She was aware of everyone watching her as she carefully untied the string. The paper fell away, revealing a jaunty white bonnet trimmed with pink, yellow and white ribbons.

  “Oh, my.” She brought her hands to her cheeks, staring at it as though it might rear up and bite her.

  “Isn’t it pretty?” Benjamin was grinning from ear to ear.

  “What is it?” Del demanded.

  “It’s a bonnet, silly.” Clement’s smile was beginning to fade. “Mrs. Sutton said all the ladies are wearing them. Do you like it, Isabella? We thought you could wear it to town. And to—” he shrugged and his voice wavered “—anyplace you want.”

  She couldn’t stop the tears that sprang to her eyes.

  “Now look what you did.” Aaron, always the protector, jumped to her defense. “You made Isabella cry with that stupid gift.”

  “Oh, no, Aaron.” She stood and touched a hand to his shoulder, before blinking away the tears. She turned to the two boys and gave them a tremulous smile. “It’s the most beautiful hat I’ve ever seen.”

  “Then why are you crying?” Del demanded.

  “Because it’s so beautiful. And because I’ve never received a gift before.” She opened her arms and drew Clement and Benjamin close. “I can’t believe you’d spend all your money on me.”

  “What else would we spend it on?” Benjamin looked slightly embarrassed. “We’ve already got everything we want.”

  “So do I,” she whispered as she b
rushed her lips over their heads.

  Reaching up, she pinned the bonnet to her hair, then stood back. “What do you think?”

  The boys beamed.

  “You look like a real fancy lady,” Benjamin said.

  Clement nodded in agreement.

  She turned to Matt, who had watched the entire scene in silence. “What about you, Matthew? Do you approve?”

  Something flickered in his eyes. A look of pain mingled with pleasure. Then it was gone, and he was smiling. “I think you’ll be the envy of every woman in Sutton’s Station.”

  Del picked up her parcel, which she’d dropped on a chair. “I guess I may as well show you what I bought.” Unwrapping the paper, she held aloft a bottle of murky liquid.

  “What’s that?” Aaron leaned down to read the label.

  “It’s Dr. Goody’s Liniment and Elixir. I bought it for you and Pa, to put on your bruises.”

  “Well, that’s real nice, Little Bit.” Aaron took the bottle from her hand and read the back of the bottle. “Effective for bruises, burns, contusions, cuts, scratches and horse bites. Can also be used on livestock.”

  Matt and Aaron exchanged quick grins.

  “Do you like it, Pa?”

  Her father swung her up into his arms and kissed her soundly. “I like it very much. Thank you.”

  “There’s something else.” She unfolded the paper further and lifted out something that caught and reflected the firelight. “It’s for you, Isabella.”

  “Another gift?” Izzy stared at the little girl’s outstretched hand. “What is this?”

  “A comb for your hair.”

  Izzy knelt down and drew Del into her arms. “I don’t know what to make of this. Two gifts in one day.” She kissed the little girl’s cheek, then examined the comb. It was a simple little thing, made of tortoiseshell. “It’s almost too pretty to wear. I’ll tell you what. I’ll wear it now, and when your hair is long enough, it will be yours.”

  Del’s eyes were shining. “You mean we’ll share?”

  Izzy nodded, then hugged her again.

  Matt opened the cabin door and stepped outside, then returned carrying a parcel. “I was going to save this for later. But since you’re opening presents, you may as well open mine, too.”

  Izzy’s eyes widened. “I don’t think I can take any more surprises, Matthew. Why don’t you open it for me?”

  He shook his head and thrust it into her hands. With the children urging her on, she tore the paper and let out a gasp as layers of pale lemon-yellow fabric began to spill through her hands.

  “It’s a dress,” Del cried.

  Izzy was holding the gown a little away from her, trying to take it all in at once. The row of matching white buttons that ran from neckline to hem. The neat little collar trimmed with delicate lace. The wide yellow sash. The long flouncing skirt, caught here and there with bows and displaying more of the lace. And to go with it, a matching yellow shawl, with an intricate pattern of squares and circles, trimmed with a lush fringe.

  “I hope it fits.” He was watching her reaction, worried about the way her eyes were filling and her lips trembling. “If you don’t like the color…”

  “Don’t like…?”

  They watched in horror as she burst into tears.

  Feeling tense and awkward, Matt laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this. I had to guess at your size. But Gertrude Sutton said you could exchange it for another if you wanted.”

  “Another? How could I ever want another dress?”

  He was feeling more confused by the minute.

  “But if you don’t like it…”

  “Oh, Matthew.” Her voice was choked with tears. “I’ve never in my life had a store-bought dress before. Don’t you see? My first gifts, my first gown, my first shawl…” Her lips quivered and the tears coursed down her cheeks. “It’s all too much. I think my heart is too full.” With a sob she ran into the bedroom.

  For the space of several minutes Matt and his children stood staring at the closed door. Then, gathering his wits, he said, “I think we’d better eat the meal Isabella fixed for us.”

  “What about Isabella?” Aaron asked. “Don’t you think you should go to her, Pa?”

  “I think maybe she needs some time alone.” Matt led the way to the table and began to pass the platter of meat. His own appetite, he realized, had fled.

  “Do women always cry when they’re happy?” Benjamin glanced at his father.

  Matt shrugged. “I guess sometimes they cry. But sometimes they laugh, too.”

  Over a mouthful of bread and honey the boy asked, “How are we supposed to know what to expect?”

  “We don’t, son. That’s what makes life with them so interesting.”

  A short time later they all looked up as the door to the bedroom opened. Izzy stepped out, wearing the new gown, and over it, draped around her shoulders, the matching shawl. Her hair had been pulled to one side and fastened with the comb.

  Matt wasn’t even aware that he’d pushed away from the table and was standing, a look of pure pleasure lighting all his features, his right hand reaching out to her.

  “Isabella. You look…” Like a goddess, he thought. A vision too perfect to be real. But he wasn’t a man of words. And so he said simply, “You look pretty.”

  “Thank you.” She took his outstretched hand and reached up with her other hand to touch his cheek in a gesture of tenderness. “I feel pretty. Thanks to you, Matthew.” She turned and her smile encompassed all of them. “And you, children. You’ve made me feel very special. I only wish I’d had some way of buying you something, as well.”

  “We don’t need things, Isabella.” Aaron spoke for all of them. “You’ve already given us the one thing we thought we’d never have. A ma who enjoys being with us. Doing for us. Being part of our family. That’s all we’ve ever wanted.”

  Izzy took a deep breath, struggling against fresh tears that threatened. “Well, let’s have our supper.”

  She sat, still holding Matt’s hand. With her other hand she reached out to Aaron. The others around the table did the same.

  “Bless this food,” she said. “And those of us who share it.”

  “Amen,” the others intoned.

  As she filled her cup, Matt picked up his fork and began to eat. Suddenly he was ravenous.

  Izzy removed the new gown, hanging it carefully on a peg. As she sat on the edge of the bed and removed her stockings and petticoat, she couldn’t help staring at it. It wouldn’t be easy for her to wear something so fine while she did her daily chores. Especially since she still had her old gown. But she would wear it proudly. Because she had seen her reflection in Matthew’s eyes. A reflection of love and beauty.

  She heard his footsteps as he returned from the barn. Heard the cabin door open and close. Her heartbeat quickened. She was just starting to rise when he came to her. He stepped quickly inside, then leaned against the door, watching her.

  She felt the familiar skitter of nerves when those dark, hooded eyes were trained on her.

  She picked up the simple white gown. “I was just going to put on my night shift.”

  He took it from her hands. “No. I want to see you like this.”

  Her first inclination was to cross her arms in front of herself. But he took her hands, holding them in his, and studied her with such intensity she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

  “I’ll blow out the lantern.”

  “Leave it. I want to watch you. I want you to see me as I love you, Isabella.”

  He reached up and removed the comb from her hair, watching through narrowed eyes as honey waves drifted around her face. Turning her toward the cracked mirror, he picked up the brush and began to run it through her hair.

  “Soft,” he murmured. “Everything about you is so soft. Your voice. Your manner. Even the way you love.”

  She watched his reflection, stunned by the intimacy of his touch. She felt a tingling that soon sprea
d through her body.

  “Why don’t you ever look in the mirror, Isabella?”

  “I’ve never liked looking at myself. I’m not pretty.”

  “Not pretty? Isabella, you’re beautiful. How can you not see?”

  He lifted his gaze and met hers in the glass. Desire, hot, piercing, flared when she saw the need kindled in his eyes.

  His hand stilled. The brush clattered to the floor. Neither of them took notice.

  “Do you know how much I want you?”

  She leaned back against him, weak with need. “No more than I want you, Matthew.”

  As soon as the words were spoken, she let out a gasp. It was true. There was no longer any fear or shame or hesitancy. She wanted him. Loved him. It was as simple as that.

  But when she started to turn toward him, he held her still and reached for the ribbons of her chemise. As the sheer fabric parted, she was shocked by the image in the mirror. Of her bared breasts, seeming to fill his palms as they stroked. Of his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along her neck and shoulder.

  Her breath came out in a long, slow shudder. Her knees weakened and she was forced to lean against him.

  His hands, those strong, clever hands, continued their ministrations until her skin was heated, her heart racing.

  “Matthew. Please.”

  “Not yet.” The words were an effort. His voice was rough with passion. But he wanted to take her to the very edge.

  He pressed his lips to a tangle of hair at her temple, breathing in the scent of her. Then he lowered his mouth to the curve of her neck, loving the texture of her skin, the taste of it.

  His work-roughened fingers on her breasts were unbearably arousing. His hot breath tickling her ear had her writhing and moaning. And still he gave her no release.

  Tentatively he moved his hand down her stomach and felt her quivering response. It excited him not only to feel her reaction, but to watch it in the mirror. To see her eyes widen, then grow slumberous as his touch became more intimate.

  Never before had he wanted so desperately to give, to touch, to taste. To take. To share.

  He couldn’t hold on much longer. He knew his control was about to snap. Still he fought it back, banked it, wanting to give her more.