She smiled and wondered at the nervous look on John’s face.
She squeezed his arm—the one that hadn’t been shot in saving her life—and walked with him to the telegraph office.
“Carrie, psst, are you in there?” John had paid real careful attention to the room Carrie was given at the hotel. Vince and Tina had lived here for a while, until he built a new house. When Vince moved out, he’d turned it into a hotel—it’d been a boardinghouse until Vince had taken it over for his family. A boardinghouse that didn’t offer food, which was what board meant in boardinghouse. But the man who owned it hadn’t been known for his brains.
When there was no response, John tapped on the window. His face was in the center of the window, almost like a frame. “Psst, Carrie.”
The window slid open. Carrie, with her fine blond hair hanging down around her shoulders, and her pretty eyes and fair skin turned blue in the moonlight, leaned out and rested her elbows on the sill.
It was mighty good fortune that she’d taken the ground-floor bedroom.
It was sharply cold, and he regretted letting her get chilled. She had a robe on over her nightgown. Had she brought that in her small satchel? She’d never changed her dress during their mad run across the state, but after all the commotion this morning, the women had helped her clean up, including a different dress.
She was eye to eye with him now. He stepped closer in case his voice carried on the wind.
“Did you hear the plans they made for catching Kearse?” he asked.
“You know I did. I was right there in the room with you.”
They stared at each other as a breeze sent the trees and scrub brush to dipping and swaying. John wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe they were both thinking the same thing.
He had to force himself to speak. “I think we should get married.”
Her mouth gaped open in surprise, but her expression was soft. Her hair glowed like a halo, and her eyes sparkled. She was easily the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
Inching even closer to her, he said, “It’d be mighty practical.” He reached and caught both her hands. “But that isn’t reason enough to marry a woman, not to my way of thinking.”
John didn’t know a blessed thing about fetching himself a woman. He kept to the wilderness, and his faith wouldn’t let him involve himself with a woman not his wife. That left him ignorant as to how to go on. But he wanted her to know that she was more than practical, more than a duty.
Helpless to find the right words, he leaned forward and lifted her right out of the window. He kissed her, and she didn’t protest one speck.
When the kiss ended, he eased back, barely able to let any space open between them, what with her arms being tight around his neck. Yes, marrying her would be the best thing he ever did.
How did a man do this? He’d watched all his friends get married, but he hadn’t seen the actual moment they proposed. He’d heard Luke ask Ruthy, through a door, and there’d been a lot of bickering.
He didn’t want that.
Remembering a story he’d heard long ago about a man fetching a woman around to marrying him, he sank to the ground and, on bended knee, held both her hands.
She gasped, and her pretty eyes went wide in the moonlight.
“We are powerfully drawn to each other, Carrie. I would be a good husband to you, honor and respect you, protect you . . .” He dared not say love. It cheapened the word to say it when it wasn’t true. But it might be true . . . soon. John could see what passed between them turning into love . . . if only Carrie didn’t find out the life he offered wasn’t one she wanted.
That could happen, but probably not until later. They should wait until she fully understood what she was getting herself into. Yet time was running out, with Kearse no doubt racing for Broken Wheel. He needed to sway her to marriage before it was too late.
“John—”
“I know the frontier isn’t what you’re used to, but you’ll adjust. It’s a fine life.” Except for the heat and dust, the rattlers and scorpions, the outlaws, and the occasional hungry wolf.
“Well, I think—”
“I’m not a refined man, I know that. I have no careful manners, no kind of polish. But I’m honest. I work hard. I will provide for you.”
“I know you will, if you’d just—”
“And I’ll take care of Isaac, too. He’s a good boy any man would be proud to have as a brother.”
“I can see that Isaac looks up to you, that’s—”
Desperate to keep her from saying no, John plunged on. “If you want to visit Audra, we can head up there in the spring. I was planning to go straight there, but if you don’t mind waiting, from what I’ve heard, Colorado winters aren’t anything to mess around with.”
“The wait doesn’t bother me, John. Can’t you see I’m—”
“Please give me a chance to—”
Carrie clapped a hand over his mouth.
John stopped talking. She was going to say it now. Turn him down. He had no way of preventing it.
“Yes, John, I’ll marry you.”
“Ooh ill?”
She uncovered his mouth.
“You will?”
“Why do you act so surprised? You’ve fought for me, fed me, protected me at every turn. You’ve been honorable and decent from the moment we met.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you that night by the campfire.”
A smile bloomed on her face, and he rose from bended knee. “You most certainly shouldn’t have. And I shouldn’t have kissed you back. But it was a wonderful thing that passed between us and it gave me great hope for the future.”
John grinned, remembering. “And this moment right here is a good one, too.”
“I think we’ll do well together. Yes, let’s get married right away.”
He pulled her close. When the kiss ended, he said, “How about tomorrow?”
The pleasure faded from Carrie’s face. “Early tomorrow, before Kearse gets here.”
Nodding, John said, “Thank you, Carrie. Yes, early tomorrow. I’ll find Jonas and we’ll marry. And then you’ll be safe.”
“I hope.”
John, too, hoped they could solve this so easily.
Chapter Eleven
John and Carrie stood at the back of the church. John looked at the guests at his wedding. There were a ridiculous number of people, mainly children.
Vince and Tina and their two little ones, the oldest a girl. Vince had told him that Tina was expecting again. As bossy as Vince could be, John had to admit he was the main reason they’d all stuck together through the years.
Vince’s mother had died a while back. She’d been a grandmother to all of them, even though she couldn’t remember names very well. Still, her kindness and gentle hands were always there. John missed her.
Dare and Glynna. Both her older children were grown. Paul was a doctor for the cavalry. Janny had married the son of one of the owners of the JA Ranch just last spring. She and her husband were here for the wedding. John hadn’t seen her in a long time. She was the image of her ma.
Dare also had five young sons, who were tearing around and disrupting the church. John had seen a few of them over the years—sleeping being the only time they were still. Just like their pa, except Dare had settled down some in recent years. Instead of being fired up all the time, his young’uns wore him out enough that he actually sat still when he got the chance.
Luke and Ruthy sat in the front row with their four children. Luke’s ranch being stolen from him had been the thing that brought them all together after they’d been swept away from each other following Andersonville.
Isaac sat with Luke’s family.
Jonas stood up front in his parson’s collar. His wife, Missy, and their three children, including twin babies, were in the front pew across from Luke.
Each one of his four friends had found a moment to talk with him about the upcoming wedding night. Most of their advice was useless as far as J
ohn was concerned, and it was all he could do not to punch them, each and every one, to make them go away.
He thought of their swarm of sometimes conflicting suggestions.
Carrie whispered, “Ouch.”
He realized he’d taken such a firm grip on the hand she’d looped through his arm that he was crushing her. “Sorry.”
“What were you thinking about?”
Jonas nodded at John, who took a minute to thank God with all his heart that he didn’t have to answer that. He whispered, “Let’s go.”
She smiled up at him, and up and up. He was nearly a full foot taller than her, and he had to outweigh her by one hundred pounds. She was so delicate. He’d never met Audra Kincaid, but he’d been told she was just as fine-boned as Carrie. But he’d also heard that Audra’s tiny frame held a brave, strong woman. John knew Carrie was all that, too.
And right now she was happy to be marrying him.
He only hoped her happiness didn’t turn to regret. Promising God he’d do all he could not to let that happen, he started down the aisle of the humble Broken Wheel church and stopped in front of Jonas, who smiled wide at John.
They said their vows, and then his friends all scattered to go back to watching the trails. Janny’s husband had brought a few extra men from his ranch to serve as lookouts so the trails were covered during the wedding. But none of them expected the JA Ranch to provide protection for long.
John, Carrie, and Isaac were now staying in the hotel. What passed for John’s home, the upstairs of Vince’s law office, was too small for them. But there was an empty house in town, and they’d move in as soon as there was furniture.
When John thought of sleeping next to Carrie tonight, he was torn by two powerful forces. One, he wanted the sun to set and set fast. It was December, after all—the days were short, and dark meant bedtime. Two, he wanted to jump on his horse and ride far away, as fast as he could.
Being married was a frightening business, and John wasn’t afraid of much. It stood to reason that when something frightened him, it was a mighty big problem.
He ate a nice dinner with the women and children. His friends had told him to take the night off. He’d agreed, figuring it was only right. But he knew what he was doing when he stood guard. When it came to wedding nights, he had no notion. Well, he had some notion.
An unknown group of heavily armed gunmen coming at him in the dark wasn’t all that much to worry about. A wedding night, though, his heart pounded and his ears rang and the world got dark around the edges. How embarrassing if he fainted?
That’s when he realized he was the only adult man here. Even Isaac stood watch. John sat with women and little ones and ate a big meal and a cake made with white sugar. It all felt wrong and weak and foolish, and the sun was setting and he couldn’t wait to get out of here and get on with his honeymoon.
The only reason he sat still was because he was waiting for his head to clear so that he wouldn’t fall over on his face.
Carrie was afraid to get up from the table for fear she’d fall over in a heap. She’d just married a man she didn’t really know at all.
She knew enough to believe his character was fine and decent, but surely there were a lot of fine, decent strangers in the world. She didn’t go around marrying them, now, did she?
It might not all have been strictly about his character. His kisses might have been part of her decision. Oh, who was she kidding? His kisses were almost all of that decision.
She’d soon find out more. The wedding night usually included such things. At that thought, she clung to the table with both hands to keep from toppling off the bench.
Ruthy had taken her aside and had a wedding-night talk with her, which honestly only served to make things worse. When Ruthy said she’d known Luke for mere days before she married him, that eased Carrie’s mind some. But mostly she thought Ruthy was as reckless as she was, and the perky redhead was just lucky things had worked out.
Yet her getting married had been the right thing to do. Now the families here and her precious little brother—who was wearing a gun belt and taking a sentry post, which didn’t go much with little—were safe from the danger she’d brought down on their heads. And that alone was worth whatever madness had possessed her to say “I do.”
She hadn’t been much fun at this party. She noticed her food was gone and most of the children, too. Did that mean it was bedtime already?
Big John stood from the table and extended a hand to Carrie. “Thank you all for this wonderful meal. I think now it’s right that I spend some time alone with my new wife.”
He looked pale but determined, a terrible combination in a groom. She took his hand, and he kept her upright, for which she was grateful.
As they walked to the hotel, hand in hand, the moon appeared just over the horizon, and at least a thousand stars shone down on them. When they got near the hotel, John pulled her to a halt.
“Are you nervous about tonight?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. It seemed rude to say yes. And anyway, her throat had gone bone-dry.
“Carrie, I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to make you a good husband. But . . .” He fell silent, almost like his throat had gone bone-dry.
She swallowed hard and managed to say, “But what, John?”
“I . . . I don’t think we know each other well enough for the sort of goings-on that take place on a wedding night. Would you mind if we spent the night talking, maybe let me kiss you again a few times? Kearse doesn’t need to know that we . . . that is, that you . . .” He cleared his throat. “What I mean to say is, our being married is enough to turn him aside, don’t you think? And I’d like us to be familiar and comfortable with each other before we do . . . ah, before we have a . . . a wedding night.”
His words washed over her like a reprieve, and she knew he was right. “I understand what being married means.” She had a vague idea, anyway. “I understand a husband’s rights and . . . well, I would love it if when we’re together, truly as a married couple, I wasn’t quite so terrified.”
John smiled, his white teeth shining in the night. He bent low and kissed her. “I’m terrified myself.”
Then he kissed her again and didn’t seem one bit afraid. Carrie kissed him back just as boldly. When her arms wrapped around his neck, she felt such affection for him, such protection from him.
She pulled away only a little and said, “I’d like for us to be in love before we become fully married. I know I can love you, John.”
He stole another long kiss.
“I might even love you already,” she added.
Whispering near her ear so she shivered in the brisk December air, he said, “I care for you, and I’m thinking loving such a fine woman would be my pleasure. So tonight we talk, but nothing more. But . . . well, maybe we won’t have to wait all that long.”
They shared a smile, and a chill wind buffeted them.
“Let’s go inside.” John took her arm and escorted her with a formality that seemed right for newlyweds. “Let’s get to know each other just as fast as we can.”
That startled a laugh out of Carrie, and she went willingly and calmly with her new husband, feeling happier than she ever had before in her life.
They talked for hours, about serious things, funny things, their childhoods, their growing-up years, the good and the bad—with plenty of kissing mixed in.
He told her about his pa and how he planned to be a better father. She talked about her grandfather buying them a house and leaving it in such a way it could never be lost because of her father’s gambling.
There was some talk about Andersonville Prison, but Carrie could only take so much of the horror he’d lived through. Losing her older sister, Audra, to the awful man her father owed money to also came up. Carrie had known her turn would come.
It was the darkest hour of the night when John finally said, “I think we need to get a few hours of sleep, but I have enjoyed every moment of our time.�
�
They were alone, together in one room. There was nowhere else to go, so they would sleep side by side. Carrie was looking forward to being held in his sheltering arms, even though they didn’t know each other well enough for more intimate things.
He left her to change into her nightgown, and then she gave him the same courtesy. They slid beneath the covers together and rolled to face each other. He gave her a good-night kiss. She gave him one back. Then another.
And then she found that they knew each other quite well, after all.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, Vince pinned a sheriff’s badge on John’s chest right there in the diner over the dirty breakfast dishes.
John noticed Vince doing it, but he had to admit he was having a hard time paying attention to anyone but Carrie.
“Do you want me to send a wire to Rawhide and tell Audra what’s going on?” John asked his beautiful new wife. He’d do anything she asked and that was the plain truth.
He wondered if Kearse was close. John would like nothing better than to go back to the hotel and spend long hours with his wife. Twenty-four hours. And then do it again tomorrow and forever.
He’d heard of such a thing as a honeymoon, a vacation taken after a wedding by the newlywed couple. A fine idea.
“A wire would be wonderful.” She looked in his eyes as though he were the smartest man on earth for suggesting it.
It was all he could do not to sweep her up in his arms and take her away somewhere.
“I’ll write her a letter, but for now tell her we won’t be out to Colorado right away, certainly not until spring.” Her voice dropped, and her lashes lowered. She rested her hand on his arm. “And tell her that we’re married.”
John didn’t think he was going to get to the telegraph office anytime soon.
“She just wants us to be safe,” Isaac said. “It won’t matter that we don’t get to her place.”
Which reminded John that he and Carrie weren’t alone. But he could fix that with only—
A gun fired three times, coming from the south.
With This Ring? Page 20