Patty's Gamble

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Without thinking, he hurried back into the barn and got on his horse, not bothering to put a saddle or bridle on it first. He needed to find out what was going on, and he needed to find out fast. He urged the horse into a full run and pulled out the Colt .45 from his holster in case he needed it.

  “Help me!” the woman screamed, shoving at her captor. “Someone, please help me!”

  Greg’s eyebrows furrowed. That voice sounded familiar. He shook his head. Right now he needed to get to the leading rider, not worry about who was crying out for help. One of the men shot at the leading rider again, and this time the leading rider changed direction, heading right for Greg.

  Greg immediately slowed and held out his gun, his attention going to the man who had been shooting at the lead rider. The shots had failed to meet their target, proving just how inept he was at shooting. And all Greg needed was for the man to miss the leading rider and hit him instead.

  “Stop right there!” Greg yelled. “You’re on my land!”

  The men slowed their horses. Relieved, Greg lowered his gun and proceeded forward. The woman’s captor tilted his head up, and Greg rolled his eyes. John Meyer. It figured.

  Then his gaze lowered to the woman who was screaming and hitting Meyer in the chest. Patty Dixon? Just what was Patty Dixon doing getting caught up in a mess with Meyer?

  “What’s going on here?” Greg demanded.

  “I’m going to marry this wench,” Meyer barked as Patty struck his chest. He tightened his hold on her, causing her to squeal in protest.

  Greg’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t hurt her.”

  “This doesn’t concern you. Be on your way.” He pointed his gun at the preacher. “You stay with me! I told you, we’re doing this and we’re doing it on the wench’s land.”

  “No! I don’t want to marry you, you brute,” Patty screamed and pushed against him again.

  From the right, another man holding the reins of a horse approached them. Greg had to look at him again to make sure he was seeing right. What was the mayor doing, getting involved in a mess like this?

  “You can’t force a young lady to marry you against her will,” Mayor White told Meyer. “The law won’t allow it.”

  “This has nothing to do with the law,” Meyer snapped. “I won her father’s land fair and square in a poker game.” He gestured to Patty’s father, and Greg had to do a double take to make sure he saw right. Yep, it was Matthew Dixon alright.

  “Mr. Dixon doesn’t gamble,” Greg replied despite his better judgment. If he was smart, he’d tell the four men to argue over this somewhere else. His property was certainly not the place for this. But something in him couldn’t stand by and let Meyer soil Patty’s father’s good name. The man had always been quick to help Greg and his pa out in the past, and he wasn’t about to let him down when he needed help. “The land isn’t even up for grabs,” Greg added then looked at her father. “Is it?”

  “Patty was engaged to a fellow, and that fellow put his right to marry her up for grabs,” Meyer explained before her father could answer. “Whoever marries her gets the land once her pa dies.”

  “Who was this fellow?” Greg demanded, wondering which man in town would be dumb enough to get involved with Meyer. Anyone who got involved with Meyer was just asking for trouble. They’d be better off making a deal with the devil himself. “We ought to get him back here to marry her. Make him honor his word to her pa.”

  She stopped fighting against Meyer and stared at Greg as if he made the most ridiculous request a person could make. But Greg figured she’d be better off with him than with Meyer, even if he took to gambling.

  Meyer snickered. “He’s long gone. You can’t track him down. Besides, he was more than happy to get rid of her. Said she was nothing but work.” At that, Patty gasped and tried to slap him, but he grabbed her wrist before her palm met his cheek. “Don’t be stupid, wench. I’ll have you before the sun goes down, and you want it to be pleasant. Now, if you’ll excuse us,” he told Greg, “we got a wedding to conduct.”

  He gave Patty a long kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth, producing a slurping sound that made a shiver crawl up Greg’s spine—and he wasn’t the one Meyer was kissing!

  “Enough, John,” her pa insisted.

  When the kiss ended, Patty coughed and spit on the ground. Then she proceeded to wipe her tongue on her sleeve, groaning the whole time. Under ordinary circumstances, Greg would have thought she was exaggerating, but in this case, he believed she was suffering as much as she was letting on.

  “I can’t marry you,” the preacher argued. “There’s no way I can do it.”

  “You have to,” Meyer barked. “No one else wants to marry her. I’ll be doing her a favor.”

  “If you find someone else to marry her, will you let her go?” the mayor asked.

  “And give up all that land I can sell? No way,” Meyer replied. “It’s all legit, Mayor. You have no business here.”

  Though the mayor didn’t seem pleased, he grumbled and handed Meyer the reins. “At least take her horse with you so she doesn’t have to keep riding with you.”

  “I’ll take the horse, but she’s staying with me.” Meyer winked at her. “After we sell your pa’s ranch, we’ll live real nice in town. You’ll be my saucy bedroom wench on some nights, and on others, I’ll be enjoying some lovin’ elsewhere. But either way, that money will come in handy.”

  “You can’t sell Dixon’s land,” Greg intervened.

  “Why not?” Meyer asked, finally looking at him.

  “Because I’ll marry her,” he replied before he had time to think over the implication of what he’d just said.

  ***

  It worked! Patty couldn’t believe it. After years of trying to get Greg to marry her, she finally got him. And better yet, she had four witnesses so Greg couldn’t back out of it.

  “What kind of fool do you take me for?” John replied, his arm tightening around her waist. “I’m not giving up a bed partner and land just because you say you’ll marry her.”

  She glared at John. What was he doing? Greg just made the offer to marry her. This was what she wanted. It was what she paid him for! “John-”

  “Don’t interrupt, wench,” he told her, not taking his eyes off of Greg. “You got to make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

  Oh for heaven’s sakes. John was going to ruin everything for her! “Unhand me, you brute.”

  She shoved at him, this time really trying to get away from him, but he only snickered and kissed her again, thrusting his slimy tongue between her lips.

  “Enough, Meyer,” Greg snapped. “I just ate breakfast, and you’re going to make me lose it if you keep mauling her.”

  Greg wasn’t the only one who was going to throw up. Patty felt queasy, too. And she gathered between the two of them, her stomach was worse off. At least he only had to watch John kiss her. She had to live through the horrid experience. When John finally stopped probing her with his tongue, she wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her dress, not caring if it wasn’t ladylike to do so or not. God only knew how much soap it’d take to get the taste of John off her tongue.

  “Oh, come now,” John teased as he squeezed her affectionately. “You enjoyed it.”

  “No one enjoyed it,” the preacher dryly commented. “Are we going to have a wedding or not?”

  “What do you want in exchange for her?” Greg called out to John.

  “How much you got?” John asked.

  “What are you doing?” Patty asked John, giving him a good shove with her elbow.

  “Hey now, little wench. The man’s making an offer for your hand. Don’t you want to know how much you’re worth?” John replied, giving her a wink.

  “I got about two hundred,” Greg finally said, the tension in his tone indicating how much he resented having to part with the money.

  “Hmm.” John scanned her body, letting his gaze rest on her breasts.

  She fought the urge to slap him. It’d do her
no good. He’d only grab her hand and probably steal another kiss. And quite frankly, she didn’t think she could live through that experience a third time. Twice had already scarred her for life.

  Finally John shrugged. “Alright, Wilson. You got a deal. Get me the money, and I’ll let you have her and her pa’s land.”

  With a nod, Greg grumbled under his breath as he turned the horse and trotted back to his house.

  John kicked his horse gently in the sides, and he and the others followed Greg. Patty tried not to ride any closer to John than she had to, but the saddle was poking her in the most uncomfortable way and the only reprieve she had was to fall against his chest.

  When they arrived at Greg’s house, she ignored the curious expressions on a couple of the ranch hands’ faces as they stopped their work to watch Greg. Their gazes went from her and John back to Greg and then to her pa then the preacher and Mayor White. She could only imagine what they were thinking.

  Greg took his horse to the barn. He didn’t look at them as he trudged up the steps of the porch and entered his house, the storm door slamming behind him.

  “The groom doesn’t exactly look happy,” John commented. “You needed help more than you let on.”

  The mayor and preacher got off their steeds, and the preacher told John to get down.

  “You coming, Pa?” she asked.

  “I’ll watch it from here,” he called out, not looking any happier about this than Greg was. But in due time, he’d see the wisdom in her plan and be happy then.

  John slid off the horse. Patty tried to get down without his assistance, but he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down, ensuring that his body rubbed up against hers as he did so. She grimaced and elbowed him in the gut, so he let her go. People were right about him. The man was a real creep.

  She went up the porch steps and waited by the preacher and mayor who at least weren’t going to mishandle her. Resisting the urge to wipe her mouth again, she clasped her hands together and waited for Greg to return.

  When he did, he didn’t even look in her direction. He went over to John and shoved the wadded up cash at his chest. “There. Now, be gone.”

  John raised an eyebrow and slowly counted the money.

  Greg rolled his eyes then went over to the preacher. “Let’s get this over with.” He crossed his arms.

  Patty bit her lower lip. She knew he wasn’t going to like any of this, but she had hoped he’d be willing to stand close to her. However, he stood on the other side of the preacher, which meant the preacher was right in the middle of both of them. The mayor stood a slight distance away and gestured for the preacher to proceed.

  In the past, Patty had dreamt of a romantic wedding. One in which she and Greg would stand in front of their loved ones and vow to love each other for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as they both should live. She imagined that Greg would hold her hands and look longingly into her eyes, a smile on his handsome face notifying the world that he was the luckiest man alive. Such fantasies, though, were quickly replaced by a mumbling groom who insisted on staring at his feet and—if she was right—wiped a tear or two from his eyes.

  Resisting the urge to sigh, she repeated the vows when it was her turn. Fine. So this wasn’t the grand wedding she’d hoped for. But it was a wedding, and he was now her lawfully wedded husband. Sooner or later, he would come to realize this was the best thing that ever happened to him.

  The preacher glanced between them and smiled. “Good. I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. Wilson.”

  Completely ignoring her, Greg turned to John. “There. It’s official. I paid you. I married her. Now you can get off my property!”

  John tucked the money into his shirt pocket. “Nice doing business with you, Wilson.” He winked at her. “Your loss, sweetheart. I could have made you moan in pleasure all night.”

  She doubted it, but she held her tongue.

  “That’s enough,” the preacher said. “We don’t need to offend the ears of a lady.”

  “A lady?” John looked at her and snorted. “If you say so…”

  Greg cocked his gun and pointed it at him. “If you’re not on your horse in three seconds, I’ll start firing.”

  Though he rolled his eyes, John hurried to get to his steed and shot her another wink before he rode away.

  “I’m sorry you had to get involved in this,” Greg told the mayor and preacher as he slipped his gun back in his holster.

  “No need to worry,” the mayor said. “I’m just glad everything turned out alright.”

  “Right. There’s no trusting that awful John Meyer,” the preacher agreed.

  The mayor shook Greg’s hand. “Congratulations.” When Greg sighed, he added, “I’m talking about acquiring more land, of course.”

  The mayor and the preacher went to their horses.

  Greg let out a long groan. “Get back to work. Nothing of interest has happened.”

  Wondering who he was talking to, she followed his gaze and saw three of his ranch hands chuckling near the porch.

  Greg turned to face her. “I don’t know the details that led you to almost marry John Meyer, and quite frankly, I don’t want to know. But if you think we’re going to have a real marriage, you’re mistaken. I only did this to secure your father’s land.”

  It took her a moment to overcome her shock at how blunt he was, but then she couldn’t be surprised. She knew he didn’t want this. But even so, she felt it only right to warn him, “Mark my words, Greg. There’s going to be a day when you’ll be glad you married me.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, I know so. You need a wife.”

  “I need a wife like I need a rabid dog running through my property.”

  Catching some more laughing from nearby the porch, she glanced at the ranch hands and saw there were four of them now. Lifting her chin in the air, she directed her gaze to Greg. “I promise you that you’ll find me a lot more enjoyable than a rabid dog, especially later on when we’re alone.”

  This comment earned her a round of hoots and hollers from the ranch hands and a scowl from Greg. She blinked in surprise. She’d grown up watching animals mate and understood the mechanics of what a husband and wife did. But she hadn’t thought her comment would be taken that way. She only meant that she was going to cook him a better meal than what he usually ate.

  “Honey,” Greg began as he closed the gap between them and looked down at her, “I’d rather spend the night with a rabid dog than you.”

  Then he yelled at his ranch hands to get to work or risk losing their pay. As they scurried back to work, he trudged down the steps.

  “You’ll like being married to me, Greg Wilson, if it’s the last thing you do,” she called out, not the least bit disturbed by his lack of enthusiasm for their marriage.

  She watched him as he went over to her pa. He was a handsome man. When they both went to school, she would peek over at him often, hoping he never noticed the way she admired him. And he was much better looking today than he was back then.

  Dark hair, a strong jaw with a hint of a beard, piercing blue eyes that gave her a thrill every time he looked at her, broad shoulders… She sighed as she imagined what it’d be like to kiss him. Those full lips of his just begged to be kissed.

  His lips turned down as her father talked to him, pulling her out of her daydream. She watched as Greg shook his head and motioned to the house, but to her pa’s credit, he didn’t come back for her. That was one thing she liked most about her pa. Once he made a deal, he stuck with it, no matter how much opposition he got.

  Undeterred by Greg’s behavior, she shot him a smile when he looked at the porch. He scowled then turned his attention back to her father. Finally, he threw his hands up in the air and stumped to the barn. Her pa looked at her, shrugged, and then called out he’d return with her things.

  In time… In time Greg would understand marrying her was the best thing th
at ever happened to him.

  Chapter Three

  Patty stood by the sink in the kitchen and rubbed the bar of soap on her tongue for what had to be the third time since Greg hurried off in a huff. She wasn’t surprised he reacted the way he did. She’d tricked him into marrying her, but she thought he might at least be a little sympathetic toward her since she had to put up with the grimy John Meyer kissing and holding her. She shivered and renewed her efforts to wash off the taste of him from her tongue.

  If she thought about it too much, she’d gag again and the last time she gagged, she almost lost her breakfast. That wouldn’t be a good way to begin a marriage. What husband wanted to come in and find his wife throwing up? Granted, he might want to throw up because he didn’t want to be married, but it wouldn’t do well for her to do it.

  Placing the soap on the table, she poured more water into the cup and swished the soap in her mouth then spit it out. The whole process was disgusting. Even as much as she hated the taste of soap, it was worth suffering just to get the memory of John’s icky tongue out of her mouth. With another shiver, she rinsed her mouth out again. There. That was as good as it was going to get.

  After a few moments, she left the kitchen and headed for the bunkhouse where the ranch hands slept. A couple of the ranch hands watched her, but she paid them no mind. She had something to discuss with the cook, and she didn’t have much time before supper to do it. Since the kitchen was off to a small room attached to the bunkhouse, she went in there. The tables were outside, though she suspected they were moved inside when the weather was bad or when it was cold.

  The cook, who was frying something on the cook stove, glanced up at her. “You mean the rumors are true? Greg really did take a bride today?”

  “Yes, they are,” she replied, knowing full well the ranch hands would be talking about this and whatever she said and did for weeks—if not months—to come. “He made a smart move.”