A Marriage By Chance

by Carolyn Davidson

  “I love you, Clo.” He spoke it aloud, as if he wanted there to be no doubt of her hearing his declaration. And as though he wanted her to be certain of it, he repeated it.

  “You’re my wife, Clo,” he murmured as though he needed to lay claim to the woman beneath him. And then he lifted his head. “Did you hear me?”

  She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears of joy. They whispered the words in unison, as if neither could contain the syllables of promise that begged to be spoken. As if their wedding vows were renewed once more, they murmured their love aloud, and she smiled in the darkness, holding him close as the sound of their voices blended in the night.

  They rode to town the next day at Micah’s command. He’d have been satisfied with only J.T.’s presence, but Chloe would not be deterred from going along. The small courtroom was filled to the brim with ranchers who had felt the sting of losing cattle to the rustlers. In sorting out the herd, several brands had been found altered, and the cattle owners had made partial recovery of their losses.

  Now they gathered to see justice done, and if they’d rather have had a quick hanging, they were disappointed. The men were all sentenced to more years in the territorial prison at Laramie than they had a chance of surviving. All but Gus, who had a shorter sentence imposed and was to be held in Colorado.

  “Should have shot them where they stood,” one man said bitterly, after Cleary spoke his piece on the witness stand. “A few years back, they’d have strung them up instead of hauling them off to Laramie.”

  “Things have changed,” J.T. said to Chloe as they listened to the undertones of violence that rippled through the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel on the desk, and frowned at the ranchers.

  A representative of the Wyoming Cattle Owner’s Association was present and he gave a glowing report of Cleary’s record. “Bottom line is that the gang was broken up and the men responsible will spend long years in prison,” the gentleman told the listening men. “There’s still some vigilante justice going on hereabouts, but in this case our representative held to the line. We’re satisfied with the result.”

  “And you?” J.T. asked, bending to whisper against Chloe’s ear. “Are you satisfied with the sentence they gave Gus?”

  The man in question had shot a look at Chloe as Cleary gave details of Gus’s part in Chloe’s rescue. And when the shorter term of his sentence was read, he bowed his head, and then looked over to where she sat and nodded.

  “He’s still a rustler,” she said quietly. “But if for no other reason than that he spoke to me about Pete, I’m thankful to him. I knew he’d go to prison, but I’m glad the judge was lenient with him.”

  They walked out into the sunlight, J.T. shaking hands with several ranchers he’d never met before, receiving their well wishes as they eyed Chloe and recognized J.T. as her husband. “Always liked old man Biddleton,” one said, removing his hat as he nodded to Chloe. “He’d be glad you found yourself a good husband, ma’am.”

  “I’m not sure who found who,” Chloe said with a grin at J.T., “but, I’m glad, too.”

  Cleary walked from the courtroom with the judge and halted as he caught sight of J.T.’s tall form. The two men turned to face each other, and Chloe felt a tingle of apprehension touch her spine. With a final nod at the judge, Cleary stepped closer and offered his hand. J.T.’s gaze narrowed as Cleary made the gesture and then he met it with a barely imperceptible pause.

  “I don’t expect we’ll meet again,” the lawman said, “but I wish you all the best.”

  J.T.’s free arm reached to circle Chloe’s waist and he tugged her closely to his side. “I’ve got the best,” he said firmly. “No matter what else happens in my life, I managed to win the whole kit and caboodle when I married Chloe.”

  “Can’t argue with you there,” Cleary said with a smile. “You don’t have a sister, by any chance, do you, ma’am?” His eyes twinkled as he looked at Chloe, and then he shook his head. “No, I’m afraid you’re one of a kind.” He released J.T.’s hand and shoved his fingers into his pocket. “I’ll be riding out today. It was good knowing you both. And you, too, Micah,” he added glancing aside at the lawman.

  “Sorry you can’t stay for the wedding,” Micah said. And then they watched as Cleary mounted his horse and rode toward the outskirts of town.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I’m not much help when it comes to sewing,” Chloe told Tilly. “If you had to depend on me to make that wedding dress, you’d be getting married next spring.”

  “I think you’re going to have other fish to fry by then,” Tilly told her, lifting her needle toward the light, the better to thread it anew. She tied a knot deftly and bent her head to ply the needle through the seam she sewed.

  Chloe watched her, her mind working in rhythm with her hands as she shucked peas into the bowl in her lap. “What fish you talking about?” she asked after a long moment of reflection.

  “I thought you’d have figured it out for yourself by now,” Tilly told her. “You’ve been plinzing around here for the past few weeks, girl. And unless I miss my guess, you haven’t had your monthly since you got married.”

  Chloe’s hands stilled their movement and she looked out across the yard toward the corral where J.T. leaned against the fence with Hogan, their heads together as they watched Lowery put a horse through his paces. The buyer from Montana was due today, and she noted that J.T. had taken extra care with his appearance, wearing a freshly ironed shirt and seeking out his best pair of trousers from the drawer.

  And now Tilly was thrusting a new and disturbing thought into her mind, with her reference to the changes Chloe had only just begun to notice in her body. She looked at Tilly, frowning as she considered her aunt’s observation. “Probably just got my system all in an uproar, getting married and all.” Her chin lifted. “Besides I’ve got other things to think about today, with the buyer coming and us making some money for a change.”

  “Yeah, well you’ll be needing a few dollars extra in the next little while, the way I see it.” Tilly spoke with an air of assurance that made Chloe bristle.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said stubbornly.

  Tilly placed her sewing in her lap and her gaze was level. “I think you do, honey. If your mama was still alive, she’d be saying all this to you, but it seems like I’m fated to take her place, don’t it?”

  “What if…” Chloe’s hands flew to touch her cheeks, and her head spun for a moment as she considered the idea beginning to take shape in her mind. “I don’t know if I’m ready for such a thing to happen,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how J.T. will feel about it.”

  “Go ahead and spit it out,” Tilly told her. “Say the word, honey. It’s not so hard, once you get your mind used to the idea.” She leaned closer. “I think you’re gonna have a baby. I can’t figure out why it’s so hard for you to get it through your head.”

  “I don’t feel like it,” Chloe said firmly, looking down at her belly. “And I sure don’t look like it.”

  “It’s early days yet,” Tilly said with a laugh. “Give you a few months and you’ll be round as a pumpkin in the patch.”

  “How am I going to tend to things then?” Chloe asked in a whisper.

  “Same way women been taking care of things for centuries,” Tilly said. “You just get used to it, one day at a time, and before you know it, you’ve got yourself a baby in the house, and a family to look after.”

  “I never planned on having babies. At least I never thought much about it.”

  “Well, you’d better be thinking about it now, honey.” Tilly picked up her sewing and frowned at the stitches she’d made. “We’ll be sewing little gowns and hemming diapers and maybe making a quilt for that old cradle up in the attic.”

  Her eyes had a faraway look, Chloe thought, as the words fell from her lips. And then Tilly shook her head. “I’ll never get this dress done, just sittin’ here talkin’. You better run in the house and se
e how that roast is doing in the oven. Unless I miss my guess, we’ll be having company for dinner.”

  She nodded toward the lane. “See that cloud of dust up by the town road? I suspect that big-shot buyer from Montana’s about to arrive.”

  Chloe stood, the bowl of peas forgotten on the floor by her feet, as she saw the figure of a man on horseback take form in the distance. Her gaze flew to where J.T. stood at the corral, and as she watched, he spoke to Hogan and then headed toward the house.

  “I think our man’s here,” he said, grinning widely as he climbed the porch steps. His hands circled Chloe’s waist and he lifted her easily, bending his head to kiss her with a brief, hard blending of lips.

  “You’d better take a last look at those horses, sweetheart. They’re about to put a nice chunk of money in the bank for us. And then we can be thinking ahead to the next crop of foals to fill that pasture.”

  “And that’s not all you better be planning on,” Tilly said beneath her breath, earning a piercing look from J.T.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked bluntly.

  “You’ll find out,” she said blithely. “Now you better get on out there and parade those horses in front of the fella and earn your salt, son. Your wife and I have a meal to put together.”

  J.T. lowered Chloe to the porch, and she felt her heart skip a beat as she thought of the words she would speak to him later on tonight, when the house was still and they were alone in their bedroom. He might be ready to think about a pasture full of new foals next spring. But would he be prepared for the idea of a baby in his arms?

  J.T. was elated, his feet feeling like they barely touched the ground as he spoke his farewells to Clive Stewart. The rancher represented a group of cattlemen in Montana, and by their authority he’d purchased every horse Lowery had paraded before him. Their coats gleaming in the sunlight, the mixture of three- and four-year-olds had tossed their manes and tails as if they knew they were on display.

  “I’ll be interested in seeing the results of your breeding program,” Stewart said, reaching from his horse to shake J.T.’s hand. “And I’ll be sending a wire back home when I get to town. There’ll be six men here to pick up the horses within a week. Once they get them to Cheyenne, they can load them on a train there to ship up to Butte.”

  “We’ll have them ready,” J.T. told him, and then stuffed his hands in his back pockets as he watched the rancher ride away.

  “Happy?” Chloe asked him, stepping down from the porch to take his arm.

  “Yeah, does it show?” His grin was wide as he held out the contract for her appraisal. “Signed, sealed and almost delivered. Money in the bank for us, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks to you,” she said, looking up into his smile, even as she wondered how long he would wear it, once she sprang her news in his direction.

  “No, I can’t take the credit for this batch,” he told her. “You and Lowery did most of the work, and the horses were here before I arrived. Now, a few years down the road, when we put up the first of the paints for sale, I’ll be willing to take some of the credit.”

  “You’re the one who set things in motion,” she reminded him. “I wouldn’t have thought of contacting the Montana people.”

  “That’s what you’ve got me for,” he told her, turning her toward the house. Bending his head closer to her, he tightened his grip on her waist and spoke against her ear. “That and a couple of other things.”

  Her steps faltered and he spoke her name, concern making itself apparent. “Chloe? Is something wrong?” He turned her to face him at the foot of the porch steps. “Are you all right?” His gaze swept her, hesitating only a moment on the fullness of her breasts. And then he grinned. “You look all right, like maybe you’re puttin’ on a little weight.”

  “I’m not getting fat,” she said defiantly.

  “That’s not what I said. I like the way you look, sweetheart. I sure wasn’t being critical.” And then he towed her up the steps and into the kitchen where Tilly was wiping the tabletop. “Don’t you think Chloe’s looking good these days?” he asked Tilly.

  “You noticed?” she asked, and then turned to the sink where she wrung out her dishcloth. “Looks like all’s right with the world, I’d say.” And behind her, Chloe could only smile and bide her time.

  “All right, what’s the problem?” He’d cuddled her, kissed her, been generally as nice and understanding of her mood as she’d let him for almost half an hour, and still the woman hadn’t said two words to him. J.T. rolled to his back and drew Chloe to lie with her head on his shoulder. Her fingers trailed through the mat of hair on his chest and she inhaled deeply as though something weighed heavily on her mind.

  “Jay, what would you think about having a family?”

  “A family? Like having babies, you mean?”

  Her fingers stilled their movement and she nodded her head. “Yeah, like having babies. One at a time. Starting next spring.”

  “Next spring?” His heart jolted in his chest as he repeated her words. “Chloe? Are you telling me we’re gonna have a baby in the spring?” And then held his breath for her reply.

  “Tilly thinks so.”

  He rolled over, capturing her beneath him. “And what do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, the words a whisper of sound. “I’ve never had a baby before, never even thought about it. And now, if Tilly’s right, I’d better do some hard thinking on the matter.”

  “A baby.” He said the words as if the concept was one he’d never considered. And then repeated them, his voice as reverent as if he were being presented with a gift beyond comprehension.

  “A baby?” He held himself above her, scanning her features in the lamplight. “You and me? A baby?” Her eyes were dark, the blue almost absorbed by the darkness of her pupils, and he thought she looked worried. “You want it, don’t you?” he asked, suddenly wary of her silence.

  “Of course I do,” she said quickly. “I just don’t know what it’ll do to me, as far as working on the ranch and—”

  “You’ll do whatever you want to, Chloe. Taking care of yourself and the baby will come first, but you can still do whatever seems right to you. Tilly will help. You know she will. And if we need someone to take up the slack, we’ll find more help. As long as you’re all right, that’s all that matters. And having a baby will just be part of us being married and together, only now there’ll be three of us.”

  He felt a foolish grin curve his lips as he thought about the tiny life within her body. “Can I feel him?” he asked, lifting far enough to peer down at her belly.

  “Not yet, silly,” she said. “She’s barely big enough to make a difference yet, I suspect. But in a few months, Tilly said, I’ll look like a pumpkin.”

  “What do you mean, she?” he asked. “We’re gonna have a boy, aren’t we?”

  By the time Micah made all the arrangements and Tilly finished her new dress, the whole town was in on the wedding preparations. Micah was a popular man in Ripsaw Creek, and the small church was full as the couple spoke their vows. A wedding reception was held at the community center where anything of importance took place, and the tables were heavily laden with food from all the ladies who’d joined in to celebrate.

  Unwilling to take the spotlight from Tilly and Micah’s big day, J.T. and Chloe had determined not to allow the news of their coming parenthood be spoken aloud beforehand, but Micah could not resist being the one to spill the beans. He stood with a glass in his hand, the punch generously spiked with a jug held by Hale Winters, and made a toast to the crowd.

  “To my bride, and my new family. Especially to Tilly, who’s made me the happiest man in the world.” And then as the onlookers laughed and clapped their approval, he turned to J.T. and Chloe.

  “And to these two, who are gonna make me an uncle come next spring.” A concerted gasp and a moment of silence followed his words and then bedlam broke out, with the ladies surrounding Chloe, pushing J.T. aside in their
hurry to offer words of congratulations.

  “Might’s well stand back and lift a glass with me,” Micah said, handing J.T. a portion of the punch. “You’ll be playin’ second fiddle to a baby for the next few months, son. You and me both, I’ll be willing to bet.” His grin was contagious, J.T. decided, as they watched the womenfolk, their voices rising as they gathered around Chloe and Tilly. He’d almost guarantee he was wearing the same silly look.

  He reached up to loosen his string tie and accepted the glass of punch. “Here’s to the future,” he told Micah. And then met Chloe’s eyes as she searched him out. His glass lifted in her direction. “To Chloe,” he said quietly.

  Epilogue

  The winter was harsh, in J.T.’s memory the coldest he’d ever endured. And yet there was an edge to it, a challenge he’d never found in life before, and he gloried in the battle against the elements. They fought to keep the stock fed, working in snowstorms and hauling hay to the pastures and breaking the ice on the watering holes where the herd gathered.

  The winds howled at night and the bedroom became a place of refuge to the pair who shared the big bed and slept in its center. Whispering their hopes and dreams, they forged new bonds during the night hours, and Chloe blossomed under the tender care of the man she’d married. All was not paradise, for they were too much alike to spend every day in peaceable agreement. But the making up was a delight to her heart, and J.T. was learning to stifle his tendency to give orders.

  Snow piled up along the fence lines and the horses in the near pasture huddled beneath the shelter the men had constructed for their protection. The mares were rounding nicely, J.T. said, and excitement rose as the months progressed and it seemed that spring would finally be breaking through. And as far as Chloe was concerned, it could not come soon enough. The babe she carried made her cumbersome, and she yearned for its birth, amazed at her own maternal instincts as she struggled with sewing tiny garments and hemming diapers.