She was giving it to Cade.
The bank’s door was locked, the shade pulled, the interior dark. She fell against it to catch her breath, then pounded her fists on the wood, rattling the window glass. “Open this door! I know … you’re in there!”
A hard hand pulled her back and an arm clamped her against an even harder chest. “Mae Ann.” Cade’s deep voice rolled through her, settling into her very core, and she slumped against his restraint, her tears spotting his sleeve. She covered her face and turned into his chest.
His lips grazed her ear, his voice gentle. “We’ll come back. I promise.”
~
The wind cut into Mae Ann’s unguarded side, and she longed for Cade’s arm around her again. But he had only one he could use, and he needed it to get them home ahead of the coming storm.
“Tell me about your family.”
His question startled her. In all the time she’d been at the ranch, he’d asked nothing about her background. That he wanted to know somehow warmed her against the sharp wind.
“Just my mother and myself before she died at the rooming house where we worked.” Mae Ann sensed him looking at her, though with only intermittent flashes of distant lightning, she couldn’t be sure.
“No father?”
The pointed query turned her face away. She peered into the cloaking dark, tamped down the shame, and chose to believe concern drove his interest rather than judgmental curiosity. “I remember very little about him. He left when I was a child, a decision that completely changed our lives.”
Cade huffed disagreeably. “I understand how that can happen. The change, I mean.”
Did he? He’d had a father growing up. Had his life changed all that much after his parents’ accident?
Rain dappled her arm, and she thought of the garden she’d salvaged after the hailstorm, barren for so long but now full of promise.
“And your mother’s death—is that why you answered Henry’s advertisement?”
At least he cut right to the issue and didn’t beat around the bush.
Swollen raindrops plopped against her lap and shoulders. Perhaps the pressing storm pressed his candor. “Yes. Henry offered a home and security, something I had long wanted.”
She recalled telling Cade something very similar when he’d questioned her motives in May, but now she felt exposed by sharing it again.
The rain fell harder, and she hunched her shoulders beneath her hat brim, dreading the likelihood of hail.
“I’ll give you that and more if—”
Light exploded ahead of them, and the horse reared. Cade tore off his sling and fought to keep the mare in hand. Again lightning speared the road and thunder slammed through the wagon seat and into Mae Ann’s bones. She caught a glimpse of Cade’s corded neck, his clenched jaw, and linked an arm around the bench back to keep her seat.
Lightning ripped across the cloud canopy, illuminating the scene and opening heaven’s stores. The mare bolted.
Cade stood with one boot braced against the buckboard, leaning back, the reins wrapped around both hands and every rock-hard muscle in his arms and legs bulging against his drenched clothes.
Mae Ann had learned what a summer storm could do. Rain-gorged creeks became raging rivers, and if Cade didn’t stop the wagon before they reached the upper crossing of Olin Creek, they might not make it across without being swept away.
“Oh, Lord, we need your help.” The slashing rain and wind tore the words from her lips. She thought of Jesus stilling the tempest, and pleaded for Him to calm their storm and give Cade the strength he needed.
Water ran off the brim of her hat and down her back. She tried to drape her jacket over her shoulders, but the wind caught it and ripped it from her hands. Soaked to her bones, she clung to the bench and prayed—for Cade, for Deacon. For the ranch, Cougar and Blue, the cattle and horses. The Price family.
Bless them that curse you.
Lightning broke like blue fire around them. The mare turned violently away and charged through the brush and trees until the wagon snagged and slammed Mae Ann from her seat. She caught herself against the buckboard before she could tumble beneath the mare’s hooves.
Cade leaped out and cut the reins as well as the traces, and the horse charged into the night. He came back to lift Mae Ann to the ground, and together they crawled beneath the wagon. Though muddy and slick, the small knoll sent water running away from their makeshift shelter, and Cade drew her into his arms, arching his broad shoulders around her as they lay on the wet earth.
Without the rain slashing her face and back, her tension eased in his embrace, and she felt safe and protected from the storm. Thank you, Lord, for saving us. Please, please protect Smoke and Deacon and Cougar and Blue. She rolled her lips, struggling against resentment before acknowledging God’s great love and provision for her. And keep Sean MacGrath safe as well.
As the words left her heart, the rain lessened. The moments between lightning and thunder lengthened, and soon the only sound was the dripping of water from the end of the tilted wagon and the thunder of Cade’s heart against her ear.
CHAPTER 23
Cade’s shoulder screamed for relief, but he refused to let go of Mae Ann. The soft warmth of her through her rain-soaked blouse and skirt reminded him again that life was more than cattle and land, rustlers and renegades. Lying in the mud beneath the wagon, he thanked God for bringing her to him. For he was finally convinced that the Lord had done exactly that.
And Cade had almost lost her.
He shuddered at the thought and kissed the top of her head cradled on his throbbing arm. He’d slept in spurts, but now dawn brightened the horizon and birds chirped from the brush as if there had been no storm at all.
Mae Ann pulled away and opened her eyes. She pushed herself up on her elbow and smiled at him, and it warmed him to his very core.
“It’s over.” She crawled out, leaving him profoundly empty.
He rolled out the other side and pulled himself to his feet only to be met by her hand-smothered snort across the wagon bed.
“What?”
She laughed, tried to stop, but laughed harder. “You’re … you’re … covered in mud!”
He cut her a squinted look as he rounded the back of the wagon. She giggled and backed away, playing like a young woman with her suitor. Turning to run, she slipped, but he caught her and lifted her off her feet.
“You’re not exactly spotless yourself, Mrs. Parker.”
Her mud-smeared cheeks colored like the morning breaking upon them, and he brushed his lips against the tip of her nose, her eyelids. Setting her on her feet, he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her the way he’d wanted to since she’d thrown her arms around him at the old cottonwood tree.
“Glad to see you’re alive and kickin’.”
They both startled at the voice of the rider who’d approached unnoticed. He crossed his arms on his saddle horn and gave a quick nod. “Mornin’, ma’am. Cade. I feared the two of you was washed away in that toad strangler. But I shoulda known the Almighty had it all under control.”
Deacon’s blue eyes snapped like firecrackers, and Cade knew he’d hear about this day the rest of his life.
Mae Ann smoothed her sodden skirt, and her chin rose in that commanding way. “You are just in time, Deacon. We need help getting the wagon back on the road. And did you happen to see Smoke anywhere nearby?”
He pushed his hat up and scratched his head. “Smoke? After that gully-washer? Not likely, ma’am.”
“The mare, you old badger.” Cade caught the joke in Deacon’s eyes and shook his head, looking around for his own hat and finding it jammed in a juniper. Mae Ann’s was gone, as was her jacket and his sling. And from the looks of her, so would be the velvet skirt that clung to her form. He ran a hand through his hair and met up with several clumps of dried mud.
Deacon dismounted and tied his rope to the rear axle.
Between the three of t
hem and Deacon’s horse, they rolled the buckboard out of the cedar clump and onto the road. Smoke had taken them farther afield than Cade had realized last night, and he hoped she hadn’t broken a leg in her frenzy to outrun the storm.
“Any damage at the ranch?” He shoved his hat on and just as quickly pulled it off. Time for a new one. And a new suit for Mae Ann when they returned to town.
“Lightning hit somewhere on the north end,” Deacon said. “Started a fire, I reckon, by the glow I seen, but it didn’t last long in that downpour. Soon as I get you two back to the house, I’ll ride out and look things over. Could have been a fence post or—” His voice trailed off with a shaded glance at Mae Ann.
Deacon handed him his horse’s reins. “Buck don’t pull, so you and the missus take him on up to the house and I’ll see if I can’t scare up the mare. She’s probably around here close.”
Cade helped Mae Ann into the saddle and looped the reins over the gelding’s head. “I doubt it. She spooked pretty bad last night. I cut her loose, so we’ll need a new rigging as well.” He pulled Mae Ann’s foot from the stirrup and climbed up behind her with a wince.
“Ain’t you supposed to be harnessed up yourself?” Deacon stepped out of the way as Cade turned the horse around.
“You find it and I’ll think about it.” He gave his foreman a nod and headed off at a gentle walk, his right arm loose around Mae Ann’s waist and her fallen hair smelling like rain. She raised a hand behind her to touch his face, and the tender act was near more than he could take. He kicked the gelding into an easy lope.
It was late morning by the time they made it to the ranch, and the sun pulled steam from the rooftops of the buildings and the backs of horses in the corral. Rivulets cut through the open yard, and Cougar and Blue came splashing up to greet them. Cade slid off first and Mae Ann climbed down and hugged the muddy dog whimpering around her skirts.
“Oh, you good boy, Cougar. Did you miss us?”
Blue held back until she called to him, and then he received her affectionate embrace too.
Cade was almost jealous. He had a mind to start a big kettle of water on the stove and fill the copper tub for a bath with his bride, but first things first, which meant harnessing another horse and riding out to help Deacon with the wagon.
Laughing, Mae Ann straightened, her face licked clean by those hounds that probably smelled better than he did. He pulled her to him, but she braced her arms against him.
“I’m sure you don’t want to kiss me after those dogs did their worst.” Her dark eyes sparked with laughter, luring him to do much more than that.
“I’m sure I do.” And he did, kissing her until she went limp in his arms. When he pulled up for air, she tipped her head back, baring her delicate neck. He groaned and eased away, holding her arms until he was certain she could stand on her own.
“Why, Mr. Parker. You do know how to make a statement.”
If he didn’t leave now, Deacon would be walking home. Cade gave her a quick peck on her cheek. “I’ll be back to finish what I was saying.”
She blushed and picked at her sodden skirt. “Do you need my help with anything?”
He shook his head, watching Cougar, who leaned against her like a child with its ma. The idea shot his eyes to hers, and he imagined them with a houseful of babies. So many he’d have to add on a room.
He took a step back. “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
Her smile sank into his skin and spread clear through him. “I’ll have dinner ready when the two of you get back.” Then she sobered and her expression darkened, and she came to him on a whisper. “Be careful.”
He brushed his lips against her forehead. “Yes, ma’am.”
Catching a horse from the near pasture, throwing on the extra harness, and riding bareback to where Deacon and the wagon waited didn’t cause near the pain as leaving Mae Ann behind. Tonight he’d offer her his mother’s wedding band. And then he’d make sweet, fiery Mae Ann Remington Parker his wife.
~
Only three days since they’d left for Cedar City, but Mae Ann felt as if she’d died and been born anew since then. Nothing had changed at the ranch, but everything was different. Every item in the house held a luster she’d not noticed before. She was a woman loved, and it made all the difference.
Cade hadn’t said he loved her in so many words, but she knew it down to her toes, and those toes squished in her wet stockings on her way upstairs. In her room she shed her ruined skirt and blouse and threw on a wrapper. If she hurried, she’d have time to scrape together what Deacon hadn’t eaten—or make biscuits and gravy if nothing else—take a quick bath, wash her hair, and put on the only dress she had left.
As she rummaged through her trunk, she found a small bottle of rose water saved for an important occasion. What could be more important than a warm scented bath for a night like tonight? Her stomach fluttered as she clutched the vial against her breast and closed her eyes. Thank you, Lord, for hearing my prayer. Flush with anticipation, she was certain Cade had more than words on his mind.
Though it was midsummer, last night’s storm had cooled the countryside, and soon the kitchen windows steamed from water she’d heated for her bath. The sweet scent of roses clung to her hair as she toweled it dry, then ran upstairs to change. Dressed and freshened, she set a pan of biscuits baking, with coffee cooking on the back of the stove and sausage gravy bubbling. She was home at last, and she’d never been happier.
By late afternoon, the biscuits and coffee were cold, the gravy had skinned over, and she’d worn a path from the stove to the front door checking to see if Cade and Deacon had returned.
Weary from the emotional ups and downs of the last three days and a fitful night’s sleep beneath the buckboard, she found it harder and harder to resist the lure of her waiting bed. Climbing the stairs for a quick nap before the men returned, she assured herself that she would hear them drive into the yard, or catch the dogs’ welcoming yaps. She eased onto the narrow tick with a weary sigh, relaxing for a moment—only a moment to again savor Cade’s possessive kiss and the look in his eyes when he’d left.
~
The buckboard proved more of a challenge than Cade anticipated. Weakened when it crashed against the snag, the axle cracked as he drove across the swollen creek, and it was the sheer strength of the horse he’d chosen that got them up the other side at all. They stopped to wrap Deacon’s rope around the splitting beam, and finally made it home as the first stars appeared. A thin ribbon of smoke teased from the kitchen chimney, signaling the home fire he longed for, but a dying one.
Deacon insisted he’d see to the animals, and Cade bolted for the house, pausing only to drag his boot soles across the scraper by the door. Inside, he pulled them off in the jack, straining his ears for sounds from the kitchen. Nothing.
And no wonder. No light from the lamps, only the greasy smell of cold sausage. The coffeepot was cool to his touch, but the fire beneath it was banked and he fed in small bits to warm up the brew. A cotton napkin covered an untouched pan of Mae Ann’s mouthwatering biscuits, but it did nothing to cover the aching awareness that he had let her down.
He found her asleep on the narrow bed in his old room—not where she belonged across the hall on the feather tick. He bent close to kiss her brow and finger her dark hair splayed on the pillow. She smelled of roses, and she wore her yellow dress. She needed more dresses, as many as she wanted, and he intended to see to it when they returned to Olin Springs.
Gently, he pulled her Missouri-bought work boots from her feet, his fingers easily encircling her stockinged ankles. Then he draped a quilt over her legs and left the door open to hear if she stirred.
He was as weary as Mae Ann looked, but he still had things to put in order. He gathered clean clothes, then found his mother’s ring in the box where he’d left it, atop the collection of her cherished keepsakes. He slid the ring onto his smallest finger and quietly slipped out, as certain as he’d ever been that Mae Ann would
accept the thin gold band.
Each step on the stair jarred his shoulder and called for a long soak in the tub, but he wasn’t finished. Darkness cloaked the great room, and he lit a lamp at his desk, took a seat in the old leather chair, and withdrew a small brass key from a hidden compartment. He pulled open the heavy bottom drawer and removed a strongbox, faltering at the dull glint of worn gold letters from where it had rested.
Five and a half years ago, he’d told himself he put the leather-bound book in the drawer for safe keeping. Even then, he’d known that was a lie.
An old ache throbbed behind his ribs as he set the strongbox aside and reached for the Bible. Its weight was greater than he remembered. Either that, or resentment had added to it. He opened the front cover and, two pages in, found his family’s history that dated back to his great-grandparents in the 1700s.
The older the entry, the fancier the script listing events and dates, names and places. Births. Marriages. Deaths. The elaborate writing had intrigued him as a boy, particularly the two entries in his mother’s hand marking his birth and that of his sister.
The latest entry was his own, where, beside his parents’ names, he’d written Died 20 January 1875.
His father’s bold pen dominated the page, third entry from the bottom, noting the date that he and Madeline Bennett were wed. The familiar writing burned against Cade’s heart like a branding iron, and resentment fired once more toward the man who failed to practice what he preached. The man whose arrogance had cost his children both father and mother.
Cade laid the open book on the desk and drew a ragged breath. More than five years was a long time to carry a grudge, and Cade wasn’t fool enough not to know that unforgiveness could shorten a man’s life. Same as pride.
He pushed the thought and the Bible aside and opened the strong box. His family had owned Parker Land and Cattle outright for two generations, so a fair amount of Cade’s profits from selling livestock went into the box. He’d never felt right letting the bank hold all his money—another discomfort picked up from the colonel.
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