Dawson Bride

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Dawson Bride Page 17

by T. S. Joyce


  I laced my dress back up and followed the women out to the barn.

  That night, we ate at the big house and convinced the boys it was time to start getting involved in the town functions. That meant barn-raisings, dances, and yes, even church. They grumbled but our argument was sound and it was hard to dispute good sense. While Lorelei, Kristina, and I sat around the bonfire with warm metal mugs of bitter coffee in our hands, the boys started building the hearth of our house right where Gable chose. It would stand just behind where the old house had been, midway between the other two Dawson houses.

  The final house for our pack was in the works and a sense of satisfaction filled me. From the long looks Gable gave me in the firelight, I thought he felt sentimental too.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lucianna

  I’m sure we looked quite the bunch as two proper ladies, a reformed whore, and three werewolves who stood roughly as tall as redwood trees flounced through the church doors. The muttered greetings and happily whispered conversations halted, but Lorelei didn’t miss a beat. She said hello to any and every person she recognized, and when the Dawson brothers broke off to find seats on the men’s side, a dark-skinned woman with a baby waved us over to a mostly empty pew.

  As we piled onto the bench, Kristina whisper-screamed an introduction to Trudy and her baby, Maya. The caramel-skinned, blue eyed infant was quite possibly the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen, and she grabbed my finger when I touched her little hand.

  The preacher climbed the pulpit and the service began. It was a lengthy sermon on the importance of wedlock and the virtues of marriage and every time Gable caught my eye with his remorseless smile, I nearly burst out laughing. I had to force myself to look away from him for the rest of the service.

  If my man and I were going to hell, by golly, we were going together.

  As we filed out the doors and into the midday sunshine, we made a point to stay on the lawn afterward and talk to everyone who didn’t shun us. Oh, there were whispers and frigid looks, but some of them warmed up. How could they not? Apparently, the Dawson boys could be downright charming when they wanted to be.

  Gable talked easily to an older gentleman named Beufort and Jeremiah and Luke were enthralled in quiet conversation with the town sheriff and a man named Elias. Trudy let Kristina hold her baby while Lorelei introduced me to Daisy Hawkins, the sheriff’s wife. We were the last ones left and I followed the chattering group down Main Street toward Cotton’s.

  “Sinner,” Gable murmured against my ear from behind.

  I shrugged and clutched onto his offered arm. “We’re mated. To me it’s the same as being married without the title. Besides, I seem to remember you swearing never to ask me, so wouldn’t it be just as great a sin to break a swear?”

  His eyes tightened but he conceded with a tilt of his head. He didn’t wear a hat to church, and the dark brown waves in his hair shone like satin in the sun. His eyes were happy and the color of a clear sky after a long storm. The dimple inducing smile on his face was easy, unforced. I hadn’t seen him this relaxed, maybe ever. As if he could read my mind, he leaned over and kissed my hair. Oh, that man could send my stomach to fluttering. Would I ever get used to the feel of him? I hoped not. He flared his nostrils and looked down with a wicked grin like he could read my sinful thoughts.

  Cotton’s was so busy, there wasn’t an open seat in the house, so we talked outside until a table cleared. I thought I’d starve by the time we were finally seated on a long bench inside. The smell of home cooked food had coated us while we waited in the shade of the porch awning. Lorelei looked as if she’d actually murder someone for a plate, and Kristina scampered back to the kitchen and came back with a buttered roll for her.

  “You look familiar,” Sheriff Hawkins said as we waited for our food. “Have you come through Colorado Springs before?”

  “Fresh off the boat, I’m afraid,” I answered with a polite smile.

  “Where are you from?”

  Gable was watching the man with a thoughtful look and he pressed a hand against my leg before I answered. “Oh, here and there.”

  Sheriff Hawkins’s light brown eyes seemed to miss nothing as he leaned back. “Wasn’t meaning to pry, ma’am. Just curious is all.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my husband,” Daisy said cheerfully. “You know what they say about lawmen. They always think they’re on duty.” She frowned at him and brought the conversation back around to Trudy’s newborn baby.

  Even with Gable’s occasional touches, the paranoia of the last couple of months came crashing back down on me. I hadn’t worn a bonnet and there was nothing to cover my hair. It would be a dead giveaway to anyone looking for me. I suddenly felt everyone’s gaze on my back.

  “Are you all right?” Gable whispered. “Your heart is racing.”

  “Can we go soon? I feel exposed here.”

  Gable’s cerulean eyes jerked up and scanned the crowd. He tossed a napkin over his unfinished plate and stood. With an offered hand to me, he said, “You’ll have to excuse us. I have to get back to work on a new house we’re building. Have to take advantage of the daylight.”

  “But it’s Sunday,” Daisy said.

  Gable pulled me from the seat. “I’m afraid our ranch don’t pay attention to not workin’ on the Sabbath. Y’all have a good day and we’ll see you next week.”

  “It was lovely to meet you,” I said with a small wave to Daisy and Trudy.

  Kristina started to stand but I shook my head. Let them enjoy their day. My discomfort shouldn’t ruin everyone’s time in town.

  Barney slept soundly next to Gable’s horse. In fact, if I listened closely, I was fairly sure she was snoring. When we were out of town and out of earshot, Gable pulled so close his leg brushed mine as we rode side by side. “You know, if you have those kind of instincts screamin’ at you, you’d do best to listen to them. You did good tellin’ me.”

  “I felt bad for running out on everyone, but I don’t think we’re being careful enough.”

  He twitched his head to the side like he didn’t completely agree. “We have to be careful, yes, but you can’t stop living your life and it ain’t healthy to hole up in the barn and become afraid of your own shadow. It ain’t like London out here. If there’s a chance to socialize, you ladies need to take it. It’ll keep you from going stir crazy. Ma wasn’t so lucky. Da wasn’t part of a pack until we came of age and she didn’t have other women to talk to. She was just alone out there and I remember her struggling. That’s why Da promised they could move to the city for her after they got us grown. It has to be hard on his wolf, but she put her time in and stuck around for the gritty parts of his life. He’s repaying the favor now.”

  “I can’t even imagine what your mother went through. I could see how it would be terribly lonely if I didn’t have Lorelei and Kristina. Especially the days you’re gone, or are a wolf.”

  “Luc, I need to tell you something. I should’ve told you before I bedded you but the time was just never right for such a conversation. You won’t have any daughters from me.”

  “What? I don’t understand. You don’t want any?”

  “No, no. I’d love a daughter. One that looks just like you, but girls don’t make good werewolves. They don’t survive long. Baby girls die shortly after birth. Baby boys live and start needing to change into their wolves sometime in their sixteenth year.”

  I was quiet for a long time. It was a lot to take in. We hadn’t talked about having children but we certainly hadn’t been lifting a finger to prevent them.

  “Did your mother lose daughters?”

  He nodded solemnly. “On the Montana ranch I grew up on, there are five little headstones on a hill. I remember watching Ma’s belly grow and praying every time it was a little boy. My prayers got answered with Jeremiah and Luke.”

  I couldn’t imagine her all alone on a ranch with men destined to leave her for another form. Imagining her mourning five children she’d carried to term?
It was impossible. Mrs. Dawson had an iron strength that rivaled a werewolf. It certainly took a strong woman to love one of these men.

  “Do you want children?” I wanted to take the words back right away but they were out and unforgiving. “I mean, do you want more children? With me?”

  “It isn’t a decision we should take lightly. Luke never wanted to have babies and he found a wife who’s okay with never carrying his child in her belly. It’s a hard feeling to give up for a woman. Ma had her last baby girl when I was twelve and plenty old enough to understand why she wanted to keep trying. Jeremiah saw Luke born and got to feel that happiness and relief. He’s always wanted lots of kids and Lorelei seems willing and able to try. Luke never saw that happiness. Ma lost three babies after him, so all he saw was the heartbreak that came with trying to make little werewolves. I fall somewhere in between. I wouldn’t mind having a baby with you. Of seeing you hold our son, but I’m scared of you being hurt. Of burying babies and it breaking you. I think you should make the decision. If someday you decide you’re strong enough to handle the worry, to handle the consequences, then I’ll happily try with you.”

  “What if Lorelei has a girl?”

  “Then we’ll be there for her. That’s what family does. I messed up and let go of that for too long, but it’s become obvious to me now. She’ll need Jeremiah. She’ll need you and Kristina. We’ll get on like generations of wolves have done for centuries before us.”

  “How’d you find me that night, Gable?” The questions slipped from my lips before I gave it a thought.

  “I wasn’t looking for you,” he said quietly. “I was a wolf and there was so much blood. They’d killed the servants and the door on the side of the house was open. I was going to turn around but I heard a little boy cry out. I couldn’t just let them hurt a little boy. The shots rang out and I wasn’t even up the stairs. I knew he was dead but I had to kill his murderers or I’d never feel settled at being too late. All I saw was red. I don’t even remember how I killed them all, but I could still hear a heartbeat and I thought it was his. It wasn’t. I heard you. And then you were laying there and your face…” He swallowed hard. “You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and right then and there, I knew I was done for. If I couldn’t save you, I’d never find another mate. My wolf wanted you. I wanted you.” He looked at me with a steady blue gaze. “I’ll always want you.”

  How could I ever question his feelings for another when he made confessions like that? “I wish he could’ve met you—my brother. He loved to play Cowboys and Indians and he went mad for scary stories. And here you are, a werewolf cowboy riding in to save him. He would’ve loved you.”

  “How old was he?”

  “He’d just celebrated his sixth birthday.”

  Gable got that faraway look. “My son’s around that age.”

  “Ten more years and he’ll be a proper monster.”

  “Yep, except he doesn’t have anyone to tell him what’s happening to him, like Da did for us.”

  ****

  Gable

  I wiped the sweat from my brow and squatted down on our newly finished porch. The walls weren’t completed but it was coming along thanks to some late nights and Luke and Jeremiah’s ready help. “What do you think?”

  Lucianna stared up at me with that gentle green gaze of hers. The woman melted me. Especially standing here in the late evening light with a bucket of water and a ladle for me. I took it from her and drank deeply.

  “It’s wonderful. Will we whitewash it like the others?”

  “A pretty lady like you deserves a whitewashed house.” I pulled her onto the porch and led her to the inside of our cabin.

  She’d been quieter since we’d talked about having children. I had to give her time to take it in, but making sure she was happy was a hard instinct to stifle. She seemed to need to touch me more lately, which I thoroughly approved of. I got it. I couldn’t get enough of her touch either.

  I pointed to the front corner of the unfinished house. “This here’s where the kitchen will be. We’ll put a table here and it’ll be close enough to the hearth on cold nights. The two bedrooms are back this way.”

  She stopped in the space I imagined our bed would go and glanced around as if she could envision what our finished home would look like. I smoothed her soft hair away from her eyes and cupped her cheeks with the palms of my hands. Her skin was silken under the pads of my thumbs. “Look, I know it’s not the life you thought you’d have, but we’ll make the best of it. It probably feels like a sorry consolation. You were supposed to live in an English manor with sons and daughters and a wealthy husband.”

  She squeezed my wrists and my pulse thrummed against her tiny fingertips. “Yes, but that life wouldn’t hold happiness without you. Will we stay here, Gable?”

  I pulled her to my chest and rocked gently. I couldn’t tell the future, and I sure as hell didn’t know where we’d land with Ralston Bastrop out there hunting her. “Jeremiah gave us the invitation to. Said everyone wants us to stay, but we’ll have to take it day by day.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  I sighed and rested my chin on the top of her head. “Whatever keeps you safest and happiest. Are you happy here?”

  “I can’t live a life on the move like we did those first couple of months and neither can you. It’s too dangerous until you can go longer without changing. I know we didn’t have any long term plans but,” she studied the walls and floorboard, “as different as this place is from where I came from, it somehow feels like home.”

  I inhaled steadily and pressed my cheek against her hair. Our journey to this place hadn’t been an easy one but we would fight to keep it our home, and it loosened something in me that had tightened up during the war. The idea that I could keep a place and let myself be happy—that I deserved to be happy. I picked her up and kissed her throat until she giggled. “Woman, I like you bein’ mine.”

  “Gable Dawson, you’re scratching me to pieces. You need a shave.” She pulled my hat off and loosened my hair with the tips of her fingers. Her smile was content and her eyes jumped over the scars peeking out, as if she didn’t even see them anymore.

  Instinct was something I’d never been able to explain but in the roofless house, my body knew something was wrong even before I smelled it. Smoke. I jerked my head to the East and took another draw of air. It wasn’t just smoke. Death caressed the breeze.

  Lucianna’s voice rang with alarm. “What’s wrong?”

  I mumbled, “I don’t know,” as every hair on my body stood on end. I pulled her to the front porch and Luke and Jeremiah both stood eerily still, looking at the same thing I was. Billowing, black smoke trickled through the sky miles away.

  Jeremiah swung his head to me and his eyes were more wolf than man. In the most somber voice I ever heard, he said, “Kicking Bull.”

  “Luc, I want you to stay here. We won’t be back before morning so sleep in Kristina’s house tonight. Stay inside.” I kissed her hurriedly and left her wide-eyed on the porch. The smell of her fear and confusion was bitter against the smoke-filled lining of my nose.

  My boy was out there. I bolted for the barn. My boy.

  Luke and Jeremiah were right behind, dragging their own horses from the corral. Lucianna stood with her hand on her chest as we blew past her. The thundering of our horse’s hooves pounded against my ears like rain and we rode as streaks across the woods, ducking branches and hurdling felled trees. The light drizzle that fell did nothing to diminish the stink of smoke and pain and we rode faster, harder. The miles flew under us in the wake of our tireless pursuit and the boy’s face flashed through my mind in a constant loop. I was going to be too late, just like I’d been too late to save Lucianna’s little brother.

  Smoke engulfed the forest, settling over it like a drifting fog. Metal cracked on metal as I cocked my pistol. The clearing brought our horses to a halt and my mount reared up and screamed under me. The smell of smoke and dark deeds fi
lled my head and I pulled a bandana over my face to stop my eyes from watering. The bodies of soldiers dotted the land, run through with spears and arrows. I couldn’t find it in me to mourn them.

  I slid from my horse and ran through the ash and crimson mud. The tipis had been set on fire and small flames licked the remains of homes and belongings. Two dogs left behind sniffed at the bodies warily and a band of frightened horses ran through a river in back. I strained to hear any heartbeats as I checked each Indian man, woman, and child who’d fallen. I checked their faces twice but Oupita and the boy weren’t among them.

  “They ain’t here.” What did that mean? I scanned the clearing with an animal’s eyes that missed nothing.

  Jeremiah stood rubbing the two day old scruff on his face. “You gonna go after them?”

  “I have to. I have to make sure they’re all right.”

  “Go as your wolf,” Luke said. “It’ll be easier tracking them and the soldiers won’t think anything of it. If something goes south, it can’t blow back on the homestead. Jer and I will bury the bodies and get back to the ranch to make sure the girls are okay.”

  I tugged off my boots and shrugged out of my shirt as they carried the Indian’s bodies under a big shade tree. I had no doubt my brothers would perform a traditional Ute burial for them. Their families would want that for closure. They’d wash, dress, and wrap their bodies before they buried them and burn any belongings that remained intact. They’d want a burial that honored their Creator and freed their spirits.

  The soldiers would find a shallow grave and a simple wooden cross.

  My change from man to wolf crackled through the woods and with one final look to my brothers, I bounded after the scent of people and mourning. It was full dark before I came upon the campfires. Some twenty Indians sat around the flames with their hands tied in front of them. They’d been stripped of their weapons, and from the forlorn look in their eyes, of their hope as well.

  Burning rage scorched through my body. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind Kicking Bull and his warriors had killed many a soldier, but who wouldn’t? They were defending their land, their families…their way of life.

 

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