Love Inspired Historical November 2015

by Linda Ford

  She glanced behind her, searching for any sign of a deputy waiting with wrist shackles. “This Mr. Spencer sounds like a wise man.”

  There was a three o’clock train. If she scraped together all her pennies, she just might make the fare. Her shoulders sagged. There probably wasn’t a place west of the Mississippi that wasn’t plagued by Emmett’s past capers. She was well and truly trapped.

  “Don’t get me wrong.” Marshal Cain chuckled. “I’m certain Spencer was cheating, though I never could prove it. But Frank never gambled again. He’d learned his lesson, all right, and cheaper than he might have with a less compassionate cardsharp. That’s the trouble with being a lawman sometimes. Figuring out what to do with people like that Spencer fellow. I couldn’t decide if I should put him in jail or give him a medal.”

  “What did you do?” Tessa pressed her quaking hands together. “You said you couldn’t prove he was cheating.”

  Emmett might not have been out-and-out cheating, but he was most certainly double-dealing. He had a whole bag of tricks. Often his strategy was as simple as counting the cards or ensuring the other man drank too much. He was adept at noticing the little ticks people assumed when they were dealt a winning or a losing hand. Nothing with Emmett was ever as entirely straightforward or as simple as cheating.

  “You know what I did?” The marshal studied her intently. “I tipped my hat to him. Then I suggested he move on to another town. I’ll tell you this—I wouldn’t mind meeting up with that fellow again someday.”

  She narrowed her gaze, wary of the trap in his words. “You’re a very tolerant lawman.”

  “Experienced, more like. After a while in this job, you stop seeing everything as black-and-white and you notice a whole lot of gray.”

  As Tessa cautiously eyed the marshal, JoBeth arrived in a breathless rush.

  She skidded into the vestibule and pecked her husband on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late.”

  After giving Tessa a brief hug, she rushed inside. Tessa stole a peek through the narrow opening in the double doors, hoping for a glimpse of Shane.

  Marshal Cain stuck out his elbow. “Ready?”

  She looped her hand through the bend in his arm and nodded.

  He gave her hand a quick squeeze. “As long as you’re honest with each other, the rest will take care of itself.”

  An uncomfortable sensation settled in the pit of her stomach. Honesty. His random tale hadn’t been so random after all. Did he know for certain, or did he simply suspect she and Emmett were related? Either way, according to the marshal, the one thing she needed for a successful marriage was the one thing she couldn’t give.

  *

  The doors from the vestibule opened and Shane stood, tugging on his coat sleeves, then lifted his gaze and flinched. Her face pale, Tessa clung to Garrett like a prisoner being led to the gallows. Shane sighed quietly. Just once he’d like a bride who didn’t appear as though she was ready to bolt for the nearest exit at any moment. Tessa greeted him at the altar with a tremulous smile and he offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile in return.

  The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Reverend Miller was well aware of the time press and moved the ceremony along at a clipped pace. This wasn’t the first hasty marriage the reverend had overseen, and it wouldn’t be his last. Tessa didn’t hesitate over the promise to “love,” but he doubted she even knew what she was saying. Her gasping responses sounded slightly dazed. Owen lost his ball during Shane’s portion of the vows, briefly halting the ceremony, which meant no one noticed his garbled replies.

  Since there’d been no time for procuring rings, Reverend Miller simply skipped over that part of the ceremony. Shane cast a sidelong glance at Tessa, wondering if she’d noticed the oversight, but she appeared unperturbed.

  When the preacher pronounced them man and wife, Shane cupped her cheeks and leaned down, directing his kiss toward her forehead. She tipped back her head and their lips collided. Her hands fluttered gently to his shoulders, then drifted upward, entwining in the hair brushing the nape of his neck. Time slowed and everything drifted away, leaving only the two of them. A tender flood of emotion shuddered through him.

  A movement caught his attention and he wrestled hold of his senses, pulling back. Her eyes glassy, Tessa swayed forward. Shane steadied her before scooting away.

  Garrett reached between them and clasped his hand, covering the awkward moment. Following a few hasty goodbyes and promises of future meetings, the children were bundled onto a makeshift bed in the back of the covered wagon. Snow sheeted around him, catching on his collar and trickling wetly down his back. He pulled his woolen muffler tighter.

  Tessa lifted her foot onto a spoke of the wagon wheel and reached for the buckboard. He caught a glimpse of her trim ankles encased in wholly impractical half boots. He adjusted his leather gloves, hoping JoBeth had followed his instructions and outfitted his new wife with some sensible winter clothing. Judging by the stack of boxes in the back of the wagon, his cousin had taken him at his word.

  Tessa kicked off and raised herself only halfway up before collapsing back onto the snow-packed street. Tipping back her head, she glared at the high seat. Without giving her time for protest, Shane gathered her around the waist and easily lifted her onto the bench. She squeaked and quickly scooted toward the opposite side. As he pulled himself up, the wagon tipped, and Tessa slid across the seat, bumping against his shoulder. She lurched away with a muffled apology.

  “You warm enough?” he asked.

  Her head jerked in a nod. “I’m fine.”

  The sudden change in her demeanor had him on edge. She’d seemed fine before the ceremony. During, even. Had the reality of her situation finally set in? Was she afraid of him? The thought was like a punch in the gut. What had he done to frighten her?

  He cast her a cautious glance. “The trip takes an hour on a good day. Probably two hours in this weather.”

  “All right.”

  His new wife wore matching bright green woolen mittens, a hat and a muffler in a familiar pattern he recognized as the work of Mrs. Edwards. She’d wrapped the muffler completely around her face, leaving only her eyes visible. Crystal snowflakes clung to her eyelashes like cottony powder. He reached beneath the seat and produced a red plaid blanket, offering her the warmth without quite meeting her eyes. She dutifully tucked the material around her legs.

  Flipping back the domed canvas cover, he made certain the twins were warmly bundled as well. Tessa followed his gaze and frowned.

  “They’ll be fine.” He answered her unspoken question. “The canvas covering and the blankets trap the warmth. They’ll be a lot more comfortable than you and me. Don’t worry. You tell me if you need another blanket.”

  She tugged down her emerald woolen scarf, revealing her pert nose and full, pink lips. “I will.” Then she quickly replaced the covering.

  Gazing at the sky, he considered putting off the trip and quickly realized the futility of such a plan. If he hadn’t been able to talk her out of a wedding, he doubted she’d be content with staying in town another night.

  He didn’t feel the cold like other folks. The kids were fine, so he didn’t worry about them. Even if the wagon became stuck in the snow, they had plenty of supplies and his ranch hands would fetch them soon enough. He was worried about Tessa and her impractical boots of the thinnest kid leather. The horses jerked their heads, jangling their harnesses, and he reached for the brake. He’d worry about her shoes later. It wasn’t as though she was walking the distance.

  He’d know by Christmas whether or not she regretted her decision. All he could do until then was wait and keep his distance. He’d come this far—there was no use turning back now.

  Chapter Seven

  As Shane made to flick the reins, Garrett shouted from the stairs of the church. The marshal loped the distance and lifted a bundle toward Shane.

  “JoBeth thought you might need this,” Garrett said.

  He touched the brim of h
is hat in Tessa’s direction and dashed for cover once more.

  The wrapped bundle warmed Shane’s hands and he flipped back the covering, revealing a heated brick. He leaned toward Tessa and she recoiled.

  “It’s a warm brick,” he said tersely. “For your feet.”

  She hadn’t jolted away from him in the church. She’d actually leaned toward him. If they hadn’t been standing before other people, he’d have been sorely tempted to take the moment further. She hadn’t been protesting then. What had changed?

  As the wagon lurched into motion, she braced her mittened fingers against the buckboard, her hand appearing impossibly small and almost childlike. He must have at least a foot of height on her as well as a hundred pounds. Some people were intimidated by his size. Next time he was in town, he’d ask JoBeth for advice. He’d see if she had any insight on how to put Tessa at ease. His cousin sure wasn’t scared of him. Then again, JoBeth wasn’t scared of anything. Maybe she wasn’t the best person to ask.

  For now, he’d keep his distance. It was what he’d planned on doing anyway. With that settled, Shane slapped the reins against the horses’ backs and the horses picked up speed. Glancing over her shoulder, Tessa sketched a wave at the Cains.

  They smiled and waved in return. Before long, the swirling white curtain of snow obscured everything but the faintest outlines of the buildings in town. The children fussed for the first half an hour or so, and Tessa spent most of that time with her back turned, quieting Owen and Alyce and keeping them warm and occupied. By the second half hour, the movement of the wagon had lulled them, and they curled around one another and dozed.

  A sound caught his attention and his head swiveled. Tessa sat tall and straight, her hands clasped in her lap. Without turning his head, he kept an eye on her.

  When he thought he caught her shivering, he whipped around. “I can rearrange the boxes, make some room with the children. It’s warmer.”

  “I don’t think there’s any room even if you rearranged things.” Worry clouded her face. “Jo near bought out the whole store.”

  “You’re probably right. I hope cattle prices are good this spring to pay off the tab,” he said, hoping to lighten the moment.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” She asked with tentative uncertainty. “About all the things Jo bought? I’m not even certain what she purchased. I’m sure we can return some things if it’s too much. Or not.”

  Her continued hesitancy troubled him. They were too new to each other. They didn’t know each other’s moods yet. They hadn’t developed the shorthand of shared experiences and private jokes. “I don’t mind. Jo knows what she’s doing.” He glanced at the supplies heaped in the back of the wagon. “I told you before. This is a partnership. Don’t feel like you’re beholden to me.”

  She didn’t appear convinced, and he caught a glimpse of her knotted hands once more.

  “Looks like the weather might let up,” he offered hopefully.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. And I promise you, I’ll keep a good budget. I’m good at saving money.”

  “You won’t beggar me anytime soon,” he said easily. “You can help me tend the books. That way, you’ll know how much you can spend.”

  He understood pinching pennies. The first year after his father left had been miserable. There’d been no money. His mother hadn’t known the first thing about their financial situation. He’d ensure Tessa had a better grasp of their capital.

  “I’m not good with numbers.” Weariness showed in her eyes. “I know my letters. I can read,” she continued with a hint of challenge in her voice. “I can keep a budget—truly, I can. Just as long as the numbers aren’t complicated.”

  “Keeping the books isn’t difficult. I’ll teach you.”

  “You will?”

  “Sure.”

  He caught the gratitude in her wide blue eyes and faced forward once more, remorse settling in his gut. After her bold proposal, he hadn’t expected the emergence of this shy, uncertain creature. He much preferred the cheeky Tessa he’d first met in Wichita. He racked his brain for ideas, but couldn’t think of a single thing that might put her at ease.

  “Are you certain you’re warm enough?” he asked lamely.

  “Quite comfortable,” she replied primly.

  He lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug. She must be all right. Why lie about something as simple as whether or not she was cold? That didn’t make any sense.

  She tipped her head to look at him. “I know it must not seem like I’m very capable, but I can manage quite well, even in the leanest of times. Emmett always spent just a bit more than whatever we had. I grew quite adept at economizing when necessary.”

  “Some folks are like that.” The snippets she dropped about her past made him curious for more information. “How did your father make a living?”

  “A little of everything. Emmett was easily distracted. We moved around quite a bit.”

  “Hmm,” he replied noncommittally.

  At least they had that much in common. His own father had been a drifter. The similarity explained why Tessa was eager for the permanence of ranch life, and he prayed she didn’t regret her decision. Sometimes wanting something and getting that something were two different things.

  Snowflakes melted against his cheeks and dampened his collar. Tessa tugged her knit hat lower over her ears. He thought he caught her shivering again from the corner of his eye, but when he turned, she was stock-still.

  The wagon wheels cut a path in the snow and he followed the hazy tree line, stark, leafless branches the only things visible against the white. Dense sheets of snow churned in a mesmerizing dance on the wind. With visibility down to a few yards at best, the sight was hypnotic, isolating them in the winter storm.

  Tessa brushed the flakes from her lap, her head swiveling to and fro. “How can you tell where you’re going? Everything looks the same to me.”

  “I’ve done this enough, I can see the landmarks.” Without thinking, he gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I know the way. I won’t get lost.”

  “I trust you.”

  His chest swelled with both pride and trepidation. She trusted him. She must—she’d married him, after all. In the coming months she’d realize any lingering doubts she might have about his intentions were unfounded. She’d find out soon enough she had nothing to fear from him.

  He studied her face, searching for a clue to her thoughts. What had she said before? You’re not a mistake, Shane.

  He sure hoped she felt that way once she’d settled into ranch life.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, his anticipation building the nearer he got to home. The past week had been full of change. Once they were at the ranch, they’d develop their own routine. Things would go back to normal. A different sort of normal, maybe, but they’d work out the details later. “We’re almost home.”

  The worst of the trip was behind them.

  *

  Home.

  This trip was interminable. Tessa clamped her teeth against their chattering and nodded rather than answering outright. Something had happened back there in the church. She couldn’t explain it. One minute she was mumbling her vows; the next minute the touch of his lips had sent her nerves sizzling. When the pitch of the wagon had thrown her against him, the result was electrifying. He’d pulled back just as quickly, and she’d been keeping a space between them ever since.

  Clenching her jaw, she repressed a shiver. She was freezing. Doing her best to hide her misery, she wrapped her arms around her body and concentrated on taking deep, even breaths. By her calculations, they had less than a half hour before they arrived at his ranch. She’d prove herself worthy of the task she’d undertaken even though her lungs had practically crystallized with the cold. At that moment, she feared the blizzard just might do her in before she’d passed a single day as Mrs. McCoy.

  This was her first test, and she’d endure. Shane had warned her against the harsh conditions, and she’d assured him of her for
titude. She wasn’t showing weakness now. Pride held her tongue. She wasn’t giving voice to her misery. Not after he’d offered her every chance of staying in a nice, warm hotel, and she’d insisted on traveling instead. Her own discomforts were of little significance anyway. As long as the children were cozy and safe, nothing else mattered.

  Aching from holding herself still, she groaned into her muffler. There might be a few things other than the children’s comfort that mattered. The sensation in her toes probably mattered. She’d lost all feeling in her feet sometime during the past mile or so. Probably that wasn’t a good thing. The tantalizing heat of Shane’s body beckoned, but she kept her distance. Being close to him did something odd to her stomach.

  A shudder racked her body and his head spun toward her. “I can stop, you know. Clear out a space in the back and you can sit with the children.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied, her lips stiff with the cold. Pride was a powerful motivation. She’d practically railroaded him into marrying her; she wasn’t giving him a reason to doubt her now. “Don’t worry on my account.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, his voice clipped.

  Another uncontrollable shudder caught her unaware. She rubbed her upper arms and peered at her new husband. He didn’t seem the least bit chilled or uncomfortable. As all the little discomforts piled together, the realization left her unaccountably annoyed. Emmett had never taken to the cold weather. He tended to drift south during the winter and north during the summer. At the thought of him, a curious mixture of grief and anger gripped her.

  She was exhausted and spent from worrying about him. He should have at least sent a telegraph. Didn’t he care about her? Even a little? Perhaps something dire had happened that prevented him from reaching out. She’d know if he was dead, wouldn’t she? Surely she’d feel his loss in her soul. What if he was injured? No. That didn’t make any sense either. Emmett had never been much of a brave patient when ill. If he needed assistance, he’d have no qualms about contacting her. He wasn’t a prideful man when it came to his own discomfort.