Brazos Bride

by Caroline Clemmons

  Hurt and pain erupted. "Hell, yes!” Others nearby turned his way, so he lowered his voice. “As if it wasn't enough her father warned me off from calling on her, then I was blamed when the old man got himself killed. Had to go through the misery of that trial. In spite of the not guilty verdict, you know most people in this county still think I killed Montoya. Now she treats me like some two-bit gunslinger with no regard for my feelings."

  Never one to fly off the handle himself, Zach always soothed the troubled spots in their lives. "It appears to me she's offering considerably more than two bits. And as I remember, she testified for you, not against you, in that trial. Verified that her father agreed to let your cattle cross their land to the river. Saved your neck."

  "It galled her to speak for me, though. You could tell she hated it." He couldn't forget the cold look she'd given him that day in the courtroom. Thank God she'd told the truth, no matter what she thought.

  Zach shook his head, then met his gaze. "Micah, she'd just lost her father. For all she knew you killed him. You can sure as hell bet her uncle and aunt told her you did."

  "Dammit, that's the point." Micah saw people look around again and lowered his voice. "Now she wants me to marry her, but keep my hands off while I protect her. Then clear out when things are all right. Pay me off like so much trash.”

  The land and cash would save him. Without access to the river or a hard rain, his herd was finished and so was he. Damn, what a position to be in. He resented her asking him to be part of such a ridiculous arrangement. His heart cried out for more, much more.

  Zach took a sip of his whiskey then leaned back. "Who's to say she wouldn't change her mind? Either way, you'd have the land, cash, and save your cattle. What's so wrong about that?"

  "Our last name may be Stone, but I'm sure as hell not made out of it." He snorted at the idea of himself and Hope in a paper marriage. "What kind of man signs up for a hands-off deal like she wants?"

  From another corner table, loud laughter erupted. Micah saw the revelers were Hope's cousin Eduardo and two other men. Empty bottles testified to their day's activities even though it was the middle of a weekday when the whole lot should have been at work. As usual, Eduardo dressed like a Spanish don. The man wore enough silver to set up a bank.

  About that time, Eduardo spotted Micah and Zach. He stood and swaggered over. "Well, here is the back-shooting Yankee bastard come to town. It is well you should drown your sorrows. Here is the only liquid you will find today." He laughed at his own feeble joke.

  Zach leveled a stern look at Micah. "Don't take the bait, Micah. You're a better man than that." To Eduardo, Zach said, "Aren't you supposed to be home running your folk's place while they're at Miss Montoya's?"

  "Is this your concern, gringo?” Eduardo sobered for a moment, as if he gave a damn about anyone but himself. “I had to bring my cousin to town to pick out her burial dress. Soon, her ranch, it will be all mine. Cousin Hope isn't long for this world, then her place will belong to my father and I will have full control of it. Someday they will both belong to me, and I will have the biggest spread in these parts."

  Eduardo’s statement sent a chill through Micah. She came to town to choose her burial clothes? Who did such a thing? "How do you know she's dying?"

  "Doc says her sickness, it is the same thing what killed her mother. A cure, there is none. He says, the doctor, that she will not last much longer. She is like a sister to me. Hate like hell to see her so bad off, even if it sets my folks and me up real nice." His cockiness returned and he laughed. "Then when you starve out, you murdering sonofabitch, we will take over your place."

  "I haven't murdered anyone—not yet—and I'll be around long after you've pulled out, Montoya." Micah stood. He fought the need to plant one of his clenched fists squarely into Eduardo's smirking face, then work through the rest of the saloon's patrons.

  Zach rose and laid a hand on Micah's arm. "Time to leave."

  Micah exhaled a whoosh of breath, and with it some of the anger drained from him. "Yeah, you got that right." He turned and walked out.

  The sound of Eduardo's laughter behind him grated on his nerves. Much as he'd like to pound the smile off Eduardo's face, he refused to be baited into a fight. No point in giving that hardassed Sheriff Ryan a chance to arrest him. He untied his horse and swung into the saddle.

  Zach mounted and waited for Micah's lead. "You heading back to the ranch?"

  He slumped in defeat. "Nope, reckon I have unfinished business with Hope Montoya."

  Chapter Five

  When Micah and Zach arrived at the Hendersons's, Micah knocked politely.

  Theresa opened the door again. “Oh, thank heavens you’ve returned. Please come in.”

  Micah hung on to his hat brim with a death grip. "Please let Miss Montoya know I'm here to talk about her offer."

  Theresa frowned. "Your earlier visit upset her terribly.” She gestured to her left. “She’s resting at the end of the hall. Please go on back."

  Micah sent Zach a pleading look, then left to stride down the hallway at the opposite end of the house from where he'd talked to Hope earlier. A passel of grasshoppers jumped around in his stomach. Steel bands clamped around his chest so tight he could hardly breathe. He flexed his shoulders to ease the strain. Could those muscles be any tighter? Digging for water was easier than this.

  He hoped he wasn't making the worst mistake of his life.

  He paused in the doorway. The faint scent from Mrs. Henderson's rose bushes drifted in the open windows. Frilly white curtains moved gently with a faint breeze, refreshing the overly warm room. Hope lay on the tester bed propped up on a pile of pillows. Against the pink pillows and coverlet, her skin appeared translucent, as if she faded away minute by minute.

  She'd removed her shoes but still wore the lilac dress. The sight of her feet clad in white stockings surprised him. He made out her toes through the thin fabric. Seeing her like this seemed oddly intimate.

  Her wide, sherry-brown eyes were red-rimmed and she watched him intently. She said nothing, but twisted a lacy white handkerchief. Waiting. Appearing desolate.

  He stood before her, hat in hand. Mindful of the open windows, he spoke quietly. "I've thought about what you asked."

  She chewed on her lip, but a spark of anticipation lighted in her pretty eyes. Dang, how could he ever have denied her? He’d almost let his stiff-necked pride prevent him from joining up with the only woman he’d ever wanted, a woman who was now desperate for help.

  Pumping up his courage on a deep breath, he said, "If you still want me to, I'll do it."

  He saw the relief wash over her. It seemed she gained instant strength from his words, for she eased up and paused as if to clear her head, then swung her legs off the bed.

  "Today? Now?"

  He shrugged. "If that's what you want."

  She nodded. "We must hurry before my uncle learns my plans." As if every second counted, she slid off the bed and gathered her shoes from the floor.

  "You're over twenty-one. How can he stop you?"

  She sank onto a chair and placed her shoes on the floor in front of her. "He could lock me in my room and have me declared incompetent. And he would do that very thing before he would let me marry you. He is a powerful man here and many are afraid to displease him." She paused from tugging on her shoes to glance up at him with solemn eyes. "You must understand, he truly believes you murdered my father."

  He shrugged again. He had been cleared by a jury. The subject seemed not to need more discussion. Why wouldn’t people in this county leave it alone?

  “There is a buttonhook on the washstand,” she said in a breathy voice, as if so much talking had sapped her strength and stolen her air. “Could you hand it to me?”

  Micah grabbed the fastening tool and knelt on one knee at her feet. Seemed odd, helping her this way when he’d never held a woman’s foot before.

  "Sir?" She moved her feet away as she snatched at her skirts.

  He
looked into her face. “Many times I saw Pa help Mama with her Sunday shoes. I know what to do.”

  Thinking back to the flirting and laughing between his parents, he regretted this wouldn’t be the kind of marriage they’d shared. But he might as well get on with helping Hope if he was to become her guardian. "Let me assist you. It's going to be a long day for us both. Best conserve your energy."

  She hesitated for half a minute then slowly slid her feet in front of him. Cradling her slim ankle in one hand, he quickly fastened her shoe and moved to the other foot, trying to ignore the glimpse of slender calf his position afforded. His shaking hands were clumsy as bear paws and he fumbled. Finally, all the hooks were fastened and he stood.

  She smoothed the skirt over her shoe tops. “Thank you.”

  Meeting her gaze, he asked the question he'd wanted to ask at the trial. "And do you agree with your uncle? Do you believe I murdered your father?"

  "I would not have asked you here if I did, would I?" But she dropped her head and refused to look at him.

  Micah got to his feet. "You have a plan?"

  "Yes. Judge Henderson is in his study, where we spoke earlier. He can marry us and then we can take the marriage certificate to my solicitor. From there we will go to the bank and have all the records changed to your name and mine. I will see you get your money then."

  Mention of money reminded him he was only a paid employee to her. The land and the cash would save him, but would marriage to him really protect her life? He’d have to get over his hurt feelings and concentrate on her safety. Besides, she looked so fragile. How could he turn his back on her plea?

  Half a league of Montoya land adjoining his included plenty of access to the Brazos River. With the cash, he could build his herd, make all the improvements he’d planned and then some. Even help his brothers.

  He'd like to pay them back for the support they'd offered during the trial and since. Zach had his own land and cattle that needed his care. Joel was a lawman who’d taken indefinite leave to help here.

  Hope’s face might be a mask devoid of emotion, but her wide brown eyes betrayed her anxiety. And though she posed regally in the high-backed chair, he saw her hands tremble. She was hardly as confident as she would have him believe.

  He exhaled slowly, searching for the right words. “You thought about how this will look to others?”

  A slight frown puckered her perfect brow. “In what way?”

  “Only thing that saved my neck from a noose was your testimony. Most people hereabouts still consider I’m the one who shot your father. We get hitched, it might look like we were in on it together.”

  He saw her surprise when his words registered. So, she hadn't considered that. She straightened her shoulders and flicked a hand to dismiss the idea.

  “Then you will help me find out who killed my father and tries to kill me. You have been a lawman. You have found other killers.”

  He didn't bother to tell her that was the main reason his brothers had remained with him instead of getting on with their own lives. The Stone family had lost a lot, but they still had their honor. Each believed a man was only as good as his word. If Micah said he didn’t kill Alfredo Montoya, that was good enough for Joel and Zach, and they put their own lives on hold to help their younger brother.

  They'd tried to discover who had murdered Montoya and clear Micah’s name. Not an easy task when most people hereabouts didn’t want to talk with them. So far, they had no leads. Not one. They'd succeeded only in eliminating a hell of lot of people before the worsening drought forced them to spend all their time helping Micah in his quest for water.

  Hope took the arm Micah offered and they walked back to the front room. Again, she leaned her weight against him, but he thought her steps were lighter.

  When they announced their engagement, Theresa expressed pleasant surprise and rushed to hug Hope. Mrs. Henderson was less enthusiastic, but she offered polite congratulations to Micah and embraced Hope with good wishes.

  Theresa smiled at Micah and hugged Hope again. “I think he’s very lucky. I wish you as much happiness as John and I share.”

  Beaming first at her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Henderson looked at Hope. “I’m sorry your mother couldn’t be here to see you wed. She wanted so much to see you settled and safely away from your fa--, um, to see you happy.”

  Ten minutes later, they had reassembled at the other end of the house in Judge Henderson’s office. Theresa had sent a message to John and he’d returned. If John was shocked at their news, he hid it, and promised the wedding announcement would appear in the newspaper edition he was readying to print.

  The judge leaned back, steepled his fingers, and surveyed Micah and Zach. Obviously their less than tidy appearance failed to impress Henderson. Micah suppressed the urge to brush more dust off his britches.

  The judge addressed Hope. “You’re determined to go through with this scheme without your uncle’s blessing?”

  Hope had to convince his her cause was urgent. “Please. It is more important to me than you could ever imagine.”

  He sat forward and raised his eyebrows. “Hmph. Maybe my imagination is better than you think. You forget how long I’ve known your family.”

  As far as she knew, the Hendersons were the only ones in this community—other than Tio Jorge and Aunt Sofia—who suspected her father often vented his anger on her mother and her. Otherwise, Hope probably could not have prevailed on the Judge to go along with this marriage.

  “Thank you, Judge Henderson. There is this one other part.” Looking nervous, Hope handed him the agreement detailing the finances and annulment.

  His face turned red and he tossed the paper down. “What kind of trick is this? I’ll not be a party to such shenanigans.” He pounded a fist on his desk. “A husband is head of the house.”

  “Please, it means so much to me. Mr.—um, my fiancé agrees.”

  Zach stepped forward, signed as a witness, then stood aside. The judge reread the agreement, a frown on his brow.

  Hope touched the judge’s arm. “Please, sir, trust me. Your excellent reputation means your signature carries the weight I need for my plan to work.”

  Theresa added, “Yes, Father Henderson, please help Hope.”

  His wife nodded at him, even though she hadn’t read the agreement and knew only that it was important to Hope.

  John stood with his arm around Theresa. “Pa, you know Hope well enough to know she’s planned this out carefully. She’s counting on your help.”

  “I’ll likely hear a lot about this quick marriage from your uncle.” Judge Henderson picked up the pen and dipped it into the inkwell. “In for a penny, in for a pound.” He signed with a flourish and stood. “All right, if there’s to be a wedding, let’s get on with it.”

  Hope’s body cried out for rest, but her nerves wouldn’t have allowed it. If only this day’s events would move forward. She looked at the clock. Half past two. Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t hear the large grandfather clock ticking. Soon, she’d control her life.

  No man would ever again wield power over her as her father had.

  Mrs. Henderson made shooing motions. “Let’s all go back into the living room.”

  Judge Henderson stood in front of the unlit fireplace and opened his Bible. His face displayed uncertainty. “Hope stand here.” He gestured beside her and frowned. “Groom here.”

  Hope took her place in front of the judge, with Micah beside her. She knew the judge wasn’t pleased she had pressured him into officiating. Right now, she didn’t care what others thought, not as long as the wedding was legal. And soon.

  “Wait, dear,” Mrs. Henderson said. “Let me play a few nice hymns on the piano.”

  “Well, get on with it,” snapped her husband.

  Leaning on Micah’s arm for support, Hope couldn’t have told anyone what songs Mrs. Henderson chose. Too much had happened today, and weakness dragged at Hope. She looked up at Micah.

  His tanned skin had
paled and she suspected he was as nervous as she was. Her groom offered her a gentle smile, which lit his gray-blue eyes and softened the planes of his face, allowing his dimples to appear. How handsome he looked. Resisting her attraction to him was difficult, but necessary.

  Zach, Theresa, John, and the Henderson’s maid were the only other guests. Hope needed the signed wedding certificate to prove her marriage. With a twinge of annoyance, she listened to the judge’s admonition once more that the husband was the head of the household.

  Not my household, she thought, but kept her silence. I’ll never again allow any man to control or mistreat me.

  Judge Henderson looked at her kindly. “Do you, Hope Isabel Montoya, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?”

  Hope swallowed. How could she lie? “Judge, could you leave off the last part? You saw the agreement, sir. Please do not ask us to ruin the ceremony with lies.”

  She heard Mrs. Henderson gasp. Micah looked down at Hope, but she couldn’t read his thoughts. Likely the others in the room thought she’d asked too much.

  Judge Henderson stared at her. She feared she’d pushed him too much, crossed the line, and he’d refuse to go through with the marriage.

  He took a deep breath. “I see what you mean. I still think this is a mistake, but I understand there are extenuating circumstances. All right, if you insist, we’ll try again. Do you, Hope Isabel Montoya, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”

  With a huge sigh of relief, Hope said, “I do.”

  Micah held his breath. Was he making a big mistake?

  He needed the water for his cattle.

  He needed the cash.

  He wanted Hope Montoya.

  Would she change her mind about the annulment? Not a chance. What would a woman like her want with a rough character like him except his hired gun?

  Judge Henderson peered at him, and Micah detected sympathy on the older man’s face. Did he suspect how Micah felt about Hope?