Squire's Quest

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Squire's Quest Page 22

by Judith B. Glad


  "Maybe." Pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Such a slender waist, dividing womanly hips from full, richly rounded breasts. "Callie, there's only one thing to do. Only one way to keep you safe."

  "Safe? Merlin, I am safe, as long as I'm with you. I know you won't let anything happen to me."

  "Not if I can help it. But you're still a single woman, with only your father for family. I don't know the law, but I've a feeling it won't let you decide the course of your life, not as young as you are."

  "I'm old enough--"

  "Are you sure? What's the age of consent here in Wyoming Territory? If your father sicced the sheriff on us, would you be able to decide your future? Or would he take you to a judge who could rule he has control over you for another three years?" He shook her slightly, making sure she'd heard him. "Do you know? For sure? Are you willing to bet your life on it?"

  Her eyes grew round, white showing all around the green. Slowly she shook her head. "No, I... I don't know for sure. I just figured... How--"

  "If we were married, I'd have the deciding of where you live, what you do. We could get married today. Murphy would stand witness. And maybe Frau Trebelhorn...?"

  "No!" She pulled herself free of his arms. "You said yourself you aren't ready to settle down. You don't know what you want to do, where you want to go next. You aren't ready to marry. Not me. Not anybody."

  "I'm ready to make sure you're safe." He looked straight into her eyes. "I'd do anything to be certain of that."

  She heard the solemn vow in his voice, in his words. Raising her chin, Callie looked steadily at him. After a moment, she cupped his face between her hands. "I know, Merlin. I know you're noble and good and kind and...and..." Her voice failed her. A couple of deep breaths later, she was able to continue. "You told me once you were a knight in training. Well, Sir Merlin Lachlan, I think you've just earned your title. You're no squire any longer. You're a true knight. Honorable, valiant, and good."

  "Then you'll marry me?"

  "I... I want to, because I'm scared. I want to, because whenever I think of what a good man is, he wears your face. I want to, because I know you're honorable and kind and decent and good. I want to, but..." She ran out of words and chewed her lip while her mind scurried around, looking for the right ones. "I want to, but I'm not sure it's the right thing to do."

  He tilted her chin up with the side of his hand. "It is. Believe me. Trust me. It's the only thing to do. The only way I can keep you safe from your father."

  She had no doubt he was right. Pa would refuse to turn her loose. He'd demand she mind him, do whatever he told her to. And she would, weakling that she was, obedient daughter she'd been brought up to be, would obey.

  But if she was a wife first and a daughter second, her allegiance, her obedience would belong to her husband. Wouldn't it?

  As if helping her answer her own question, the side of her face ached. The wrist Pa had wrenched so bad it had swollen to twice its size throbbed. And her throat stung, where Pa's strong fingers had squeezed, until she'd obeyed him, until she'd given him all her carefully hoarded coins.

  She knew it was wrong, knew it wasn't fair. No matter how much she loved Merlin Lachlan, no matter she'd loved him since the night he'd wrapped one strong arm around her and read her a tale of adventure and impossibility, she knew she'd no business marrying him.

  He wasn't ready to settle. In his own words, he hadn't chosen the shape of his future.

  "Yes. I'll marry you. When?"

  "As soon as we can get to town. Murphy's not going to be able to get away today, but first thing tomorrow. I'll go in today and find out what legal folderol we have to deal with."

  "Can I go with you? I don't want to get married in britches, or in an ugly gray dress."

  His grin, the smile she hadn't seen since he'd started talking of marrying, spread across his face. "Just like my sisters. Always wanting to shop for something pretty,"

  "Oh, I don't need--"

  "Sure you do. Every woman needs a special dress to get married in. Is dinner ready? I'm done in the barn, and we can go to town as soon are we've eaten."

  She set a bowl of potato soup before him. "We're out of beef, but I put plenty of bacon in that, and there's cheese to melt on yesterday's bread."

  "We'll pick up more meat in town. And a bottle of champagne. Ever had it?"

  "That's the wine with the bubbles, isn't it? I've heard it's like drinking nectar. Or sunshine."

  "Even better." He laughed, so she had to smile back. "We'll get two bottles. One to celebrate our betrothal. One for tomorrow, after the wedding."

  "Better get more than two, then. I want Abner there to witness. He's been a good friend to me."

  "A whole case, if that's what it takes." His face was alight with excitement. She'd never seen him like this. Suddenly she wondered what she was getting herself into.

  How would a cowboy-muleskinner-blacksmith know about champagne? It was what rich folks drank.

  Maybe she didn't know near enough about Merlin Lachlan.

  Merlin pulled her out of her chair and spun her in a circle. "We'll have a grand time. I'll take you to California, come spring. We'll see the Pacific Ocean. Maybe take one of Silas' ships to Hawaii. Or Australia. Ever seen a kangaroo?"

  "Merlin--"

  "When we've seen as much of the world as we want, maybe in a year or two, we'll go home. Pa's always said the River Ranch will be mine, but there's no hurry." He framed her face and looked deep into those spring green eyes. "You'll never regret marrying me, Callie. We'll have some grand adventures together."

  "Mer--"

  He couldn't resist. Her mouth was open just enough to let his tongue in. She tasted so good. She was so soft against his body, and his doowhacker nestled right against her, like it knew where it belonged.

  He was so hungry for her. Waiting until they were married wasn't going to be easy. Nibbling at her mouth, he only slowly became aware she was trying to push him away. He raised his head and loosened his embrace. "Cal? What's wrong?"

  "I don't know who you are." Her eyes were enormous and her voice trembled. "I thought I did, but when you talk about champagne and ships and Australia, it scares me. Folks like us don't drink fancy wine or gallivant around the world."

  Puzzled, he sat at the table and pulled her onto his lap. "I'm just me. Sometimes a cowboy, sometimes a blacksmith--not a very good one, though--and sometimes a handyman. I'm apt to turn a hand to whatever needs doing. I've got itchy feet, though, so I haven't stuck with anything very long, not since I left home. Someday I'll go back and settle. Maybe raise horses, like my uncle, or I might take on Pa's fancy cattle.

  "The River Ranch is a fine spread. A good place to settle. It'll be a good place to raise a family, close enough to the folks so Ma can dote on her grandkids and Pa can keep an eye on things. He's not one to sit idle, Pa isn't."

  That reminded him. "We'd best get our traveling in quick. Pa's been talking of doing some himself, and he expects me to be home when he takes off. I figure we've got a couple of years, though. They won't take off until Rhys and Iris go to college, and they're..." He paused to count years. "Great God, Rhys is seventeen. He'll be off East soon. And Iris, she must be fifteen or sixteen. So we've time yet before I'll have to go home. Best we get started."

  The blood seemed to fizz in his veins at the prospect of traveling with Cal. "Hurry up and finish your soup. The sooner we get to town, the better."

  She didn't move. Just sat there staring down into her soup, which looked as if she hadn't taken a single bite.

  "What's wrong?" Much as he wanted to take hold of her hands, he held back. "Tell me."

  "You scare me," she said, her voice scarcely above a whisper. "I think I know you, and then you change. When you came to town, you were like a...a lawman, come to rescue me from danger. That night...when the robber came... You were so fierce, so dangerous-looking."

  "I was protecting you," he said, and again felt the tremendous sense of reli
ef he hadn't been the one to kill the thief. He'd known he could, but hadn't wanted the burden of knowing he'd taken a human life. "I'd never hurt you, Cal." This time he did reach for her hand.

  She pulled it back. "I know, and I thank you. The other night, when you..." Her cheeks got pink and she gnawed on her lower lip. "You said you wanted me, and that scared me, too. I'm a good girl, Merlin. Not a... Not one of those women in the fancy houses like Pa--"

  "Great God, Cal, where'd you get the notion I ever thought of you that way?"

  More gnawing, until he was afraid she'd get her lip to bleeding again. "I didn't. Not really, except I could feel... I know men can't always control themselves when taken in a fit of lust."

  His chair went over backwards when he leapt to his feet. "That's the biggest pile of bulls-- Of hogwash I ever heard. Who fed you such nonsense?"

  "Mrs. Flynn. She said men aren't able to resist temptation like a woman. She told me I was responsible for my own virtue, because no man would ever give a hoot one way or another. Not until I'd lost it, and then they'd blame me for being weak."

  "Oh, Cal." He knelt beside her chair and wrapped both arms around her. "Did you really think I'd treat you like that? Have my way with you and say it was all your doing? Or abandon you?"

  Her body was stiff within his embrace, and her heart was going like a little triphammer. "If I was that kind of man, you'd be a ruined woman by now."

  Her body didn't relax, so he knew she didn't believe him. How could he explain there was a world of difference between taking his pleasure on a woman's body he'd bought and paid for and sharing pleasure with a woman he had a caring for?

  Merlin decided he wasn't even going to try. He'd get so tangled up with words he'd have enough rope to hang himself. "Look, can we get back to what's worrying you? You said you'd marry me, and then all of a sudden you're acting like I've got some terrible contagious disease. Did you change your mind?"

  "No."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  "I don't know you."

  "I don't know you either, not as well as I want to. Sometimes you've got to trust your instincts. My mother asked Pa to marry her the second time she saw him, and they've as good a marriage as I've seen. You and I, we've known each other for six years, and we've spent a lot of time together. Seems to me we're better acquainted than a lot of folks who get married."

  She stared into his face for a long time, as if trying to read his mind. Gradually her stiff body became pliant in his grasp. Eventually, after his knees had begun complaining at the hardness of the plank floor, she leaned forward and set her forehead against his. "I guess I'm just not used to having good things happen to me. Let's go to town. Picking out my wedding dress is going to take me some time."

  Relieved, he stood and pulled her to her feet. "I'll go saddle up. You dress warm. Put the britches under your skirt if you must, but wear 'em." He kept his kiss brief, because he knew if he got started kissing her right, he'd have trouble quitting.

  Great God! I'm getting married.

  * * * *

  Merlin dropped her off at Herman's Dry Goods, where the other day she'd seen a sign about a dressmaker, but hadn't paid much attention to it. It turned out Abigail's Gowns was housed in the front room of a small house a block from Herman's. When she got there an older woman was just coming out, so Callie knew the shop was open.

  "May I help you?" The woman who was replacing bolts of cloth on a shelf was wearing one of the most beautiful dresses Callie had ever seen. It looked like linsey-woolsey, but it was made so it fit her slender body perfectly, and the color--a soft blue-purple--made her light brown hair brighter and her blue eyes even bluer.

  "If you can make me as pretty as you are, yes. I need a dress to get married in."

  "Oh, wonderful. When's the wedding?"

  "Tomorrow, I hope."

  "Oh, dear, that complicates matters. I don't have any dresses made up. I'm sorry."

  Her disappointment was almost enough to make her cry. "I never thought. I-- Thank you." She turned to go.

  "Wait! Please."

  With one hand on the doorknob, Callie paused. "I haven't much time. Is there anywhere in town I might find a dress. It doesn't have to be fancy. Just new. Or new enough it's not faded or stained."

  "I have an idea, Miss...?"

  "I'm Callie Smith." She wondered why she was wasting her time. It was already after two o'clock and she was supposed to meet Merlin back at Herman's at four. "Just tell me where I can find a dress."

  "And I'm Abigail Trueblood. If you're serious about not minding if a dress isn't brand, spanking new, I can help you. Your eyes are green."

  "Yes, but what--"

  "I have a bottle green velvet gown I made a long time ago, but it was the wrong color for me. We're close to the same size, I think. Would you be interested?"

  Green velvet. Callie had loved to touch Mrs. Flynn's black velvet spencer. So soft. "Oh, yes," she breathed. "But you're shorter than me."

  "I'm long in the waist, though, and the gown is made to be worn over a wide crinoline. I think letting it hang closer to your body will make it just the right length." She picked up a tape measure. "How about it, Miss Smith? Shall we see?"

  "Oh, yes, please," Callie said, as her fingers itched for the feel of velvet.

  The gown fit as though it was made for her, except that her meager linen petticoat let it hang so limply it puddled on the floor. Callie stood before the pier glass and stroked the fabric with her hands while Mrs. Trueblood sorted through her petticoats for something she could part with.

  I'm almost pretty. What will I do with my hair, though? It's so wild.

  Finally everything was settled, and it was still only a little after three. "You go on and see if you can find some slippers," Mrs. Trueblood told Callie. "I'll have the petticoats ready when you get back. And don't forget stockings. Silk, if possible."

  As she emerged from the cobblers' a little later, a man dressed in rough clothing bumped into her. When she stepped back and went to move around him, he blocked her way. "Excuse me," she said, wondering why he was being so rude. Surely he had no designs on her, not here on Sixteenth Street in the middle of the afternoon.

  "Beg your pardon. You looked familiar," he said.

  "You don't, and I'd appreciate it if you would let me pass." To her great surprise, her voice remained steady. He reminded her too much of some of the men in Virginia City, the ones who'd followed her and sometimes had made indecent suggestions.

  He moved to the edge of the sidewalk and she went on, feeling his gaze like pins prickling along her spine.

  Merlin was waiting at Herman's. "Everything's set. Did you find a dress."

  "I did, and it's beautiful. I'm on my way to pick it up now."

  "Let's go."

  "You can come with me, but you can't come in. It's bad luck if you see my wedding dress beforehand." She didn't know where she'd heard that, but she believed it. Besides, she wanted to see his face the first time he saw her in the whole outfit, from the flower-trimmed, veiled headdress Mrs. Trueblood had given her as a wedding gift, to the stylish satin evening slippers she'd paid far too much for.

  Once everything had been packed in linen bags and carefully tied behind his saddle, Merlin pulled her close. "I stopped by Abner's. The Trebelhorns left town yesterday. Guess they decided they didn't like the Wild West after all. Will you settle for Jeb and Murphy as witnesses?"

  "Of course." But she didn't want to settle. A woman should have another woman beside her when she married. "Merlin, can you wait just a minute? I forgot something."

  Before he could answer, she was across the porch and opening the door again. "Mrs. Trueblood," she said, when the dressmaker turned around from where she'd been tidying the shelf disordered in their search for ribbon trim, "would you stand up for me at my wedding tomorrow?"

  The seamstress's mouth dropped open, but only for a moment. "Why, of course, Miss Smith. I would be honored. Where and what time?"

 
"Oh, dear, I don't know. Just a minute." She stuck her head outside and asked Merlin. When he answered, she stepped all the way in and pushed the door closed. "One o'clock, at the Congregational church. And we'd be pleased if you'd have a late dinner with us afterward." She didn't know if Merlin's plans included dinner, but she'd baked for more than one wedding dinner, and knew it was the right thing to do. "Oh, I should warn you. Mr. Travers, who was cook at Lambert House, and his sister's family will be in the party. I hope that won't make you uncomfortable."

  "Not at all. My late husband and I were strong abolitionists."

  "Then I will see you tomorrow."

  Feeling quite pleased with herself, she rejoined Merlin. "Jeb is invited to the wedding, but I've a woman to stand up with me. Can we go home now?"

  Once they were on their way, she became aware Merlin was regarding her curiously. "What?"

  "How many different women are you, Calista Smith? I can hardly wait to discover them all."

  He turned his horse toward the road to the cabin. She followed, wondering exactly what he'd meant.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Merlin slept in the barn that night. He didn't trust himself to keep his hands off Cal if they were sleeping in the same room, let alone in the same bed. If he'd already had her, he wouldn't have thought twice about making love to her the night before her wedding. Since he hadn't, it just didn't seem right.

  A woman deserved the best wedding possible, and that meant the whole shebang. Pretty dress, flowers, and a gold ring. And a memorable wedding night.

  He had found the perfect ring for her, and paying for it had put a good dent in his bank account. He tucked his hands behind his head and stared up into the dark loft, anticipating the look on her face when she saw the small, square emerald set flush into the otherwise plain gold band. It was darker green than her eyes, but close enough.

  He hadn't been able to find a single flower in the whole of Cheyenne.

  Too bad there wasn't going to be a honeymoon for a while. He'd given his word to Murphy, and he'd stick until the end of March, if necessary. Two months ought to be plenty of time to find a replacement for him. "Sure hope he'll be a better blacksmith than I am." So far he'd managed, but sooner or later he'd be faced with a job he hadn't the skill to do.

 

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