“He went with my father to help Dr. Le Beau with a wagon wheel.”
“If this isn’t a good time for me to be here, I’ll go.” Neelie turned to leave.
“No. We want you to stay.” Lyall spoke from the blanket. “We do, don’t we, Blair?”
“Blair!” Mrs. Kamden peered out the front of the Conestoga, practically hanging on the canvas flap. “I’m feeling the vapors. I need you, dear.”
Blair held the two bundles out to Neelie. “Will you help me get the food set out?”
“Gladly.”
Sharpshooting might not impress Blair, but lending her a helping hand might make an impression. Neelie watched the girl take quick steps to the Conestoga. She couldn’t say why she wanted Blair to like her, but she did.
At the worktable, Neelie freed a stack of shortbread pieces from one of the bundles and salted venison from the other. After slicing the venison, she pulled a stack of tin cups from the box.
A gasp caused her to look up to where Ian stood with his mouth hanging open.
Ian couldn’t believe his eyes. Where Rhoda had been unassuming and constant, predictable, Neelie seemed to be none of those things.
Tin cup in hand, Neelie went to the pot boiling above the campfire. She filled the cup with coffee and held it out to him. “You’ll be trapping flies in there, if you’re not careful.”
“Thank you.” Ian closed his mouth and looked directly into her eyes. “You’re here? Preparing our meal? Is something the matter?”
Hattie cleared her throat but didn’t get up from the quilt where she sat with Maisie and Lyall. “Mrs. Kamden said she had a case of the vapors and needed Blair’s help.”
Duff walked toward him as if he’d been in a saddle all day. “We invited Miss Neelie to eat with us.”
Angus joined him, carrying a stick. “Today when we were walking, and she said yes.”
“Blair was upset we didn’t ask you,” Duff added.
“Then Nana needed Blair.” Maisie clung to the fabric rabbit her mother had made.
“I told Blair I’d help.” Neelie removed the lid from the mustard jar. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Ian drew in a deep breath, trying to ease the tension tightening his stomach. It felt foreign to see another woman in his camp, taking charge. Serving him. He drew in another deep breath, savoring the rich scent of the coffee, then looked her in the eye. Eyes the color of the brew with a drip of cream in it. “I’m glad you’re here. Uh, sounds like we needed your help.”
Neelie looked away, toward the worktable. “I think I have it all laid out.”
Following Hattie’s explanation of Lyall and Maisie’s venture through a weed patch and Blair settling her grandmother for a rest, seven of them each grabbed shortbread and meat from the table and settled onto a stool. He sent Hattie back to her wagon to eat with her brother and mother.
Most of the conversation centered around the dry heat, chapped lips, and sticker patches. Although Neelie mentioned her love of the trees in Tennessee. Before he’d drained his second cup of coffee, Ian was fighting a sudden urge to walk among the trees with a certain sharpshooting widow.
Chapter 7
Neelie’s boots sank into the damp grasses where the caravan had pastured its livestock during the midday rest. Scattered showers had chased them for most of the morning, and now the company prepared to roll out again under blue skies. Walking beside Caleb, Neelie went to the oxen that pulled his wagon and reached for the lead ropes on two of them. One of the other women looked up from the mules she led and waved at her, and Neelie returned the greeting. Anna had been inviting various women in the group to walk with them so Neelie could get better acquainted. Mary Alice Brenner was one of three who had invited her to join them in the sewing circle Sunday afternoon.
Caleb snagged a couple of oxen leads. “Only been a couple of weeks since you joined us and you seem comfortable enough.”
“You surprised?”
He pushed the derby back on his head and wiped his brow. “Didn’t know what to expect.”
“I’m sure not.” Neelie tapped the brim of her sombrero, wondering if it might be time to replace it with one of the sunbonnets Anna had offered her. “I know I’m surprised. I didn’t expect to stick around any longer than it took to get a good meal, a horse, and supplies.”
“Until you saw that your dear brother was alive and you could spend time with him.”
“With my sister-in-law, actually.” Neelie smiled and Caleb chuckled. “Not surprising, seeing as how I enjoy Anna’s company, too.”
“Neelie!”
Ian took long strides toward them, one hand holding his cap in place.
Caleb cleared his throat. “You and Ian Kamden seem to be more comfortable with one another, too.”
Neelie shot her brother a look that she hoped told him to keep his notions to himself.
Ian stopped in front of Neelie and her brother, his mouth suddenly dry. He’d rehearsed what he wanted to say, but now the words seemed to have vanished with the clouds.
“Ian.” A grin filled Caleb’s face.
Ian focused on Neelie. “Anna said you were out here.”
“You wanted to speak to me?” Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes, I hoped for a word with you.”
He and Neelie both looked at Caleb, whose eyes widened. “I take it this is meant to be a private conversation.”
“If it’s all right with your sister,” Ian said.
Neelie handed the leads she held to Caleb. “I think the captain intends to roll out soon, but—”
“Good,” Ian said. “It won’t take long. I know we don’t have much time.”
While they walked away from Caleb and the others in the pasture Ian watched Neelie out of the corner of his eye. She wrung her hands, moistened her lips, and then pushed the sombrero from her head and let it fall to the ground behind her. Was she intentionally ridding herself of the hat, or was she too nervous to care that she’d dropped it? He’d never known a woman who wore her hair short, but it was quite becoming. On her, anyway. He stopped at the edge of the pasture and faced Neelie. She brushed at a curl that dangled at the top of her ear.
His mouth dry, Ian moistened his lips. “We don’t have much time, so …” He looked her in the eye. “You are a capable woman, Neelie, wouldn’t you say?”
“I like to think so.”
“You don’t seem squeamish.”
“No. Not usually.” A shadow darkened her brown eyes.
“My children have really taken a shine to you.”
“They’re good kids. Active, mind you.” She giggled, something he hadn’t heard her do a lot of. “But enjoyable enough.”
“When Blair needed help, you jumped right in and prepared the meal.”
“It’s what any woman here would’ve done, is it not?”
“That shows strength of character.”
Neelie flung her hands into the air then let them drop. “You’ve lost me. What is going on here, Ian? I don’t recall asking you for a reference.” Her eyebrows arched. “Is Hattie tired of helping out, is that it? You’re looking for a nanny and wondering if I qualify?”
“Marry me.” There, he’d said it.
“What?”
“Your brother is a preacher. He could marry us.”
“But why?”
“We need each other. I need someone to help me with the children. And Mither. You are a widow, a woman alone out here.”
“You don’t even know me. We only met two weeks ago.”
“After our talks the night you thought about leaving the caravan and the day you helped prepare our midday meal, I know you well enough.” It wasn’t how he’d felt about Rhoda when they’d married, but drastic circumstances demanded drastic measures. At least, that was what he’d grown up hearing his father say. Besides, he liked Neelie—the way she helped look after his children without having to be asked to do so. And he couldn’t explain it, but he felt more lighthearted around her.
/> “You said we should marry because we need each other, but you must admit, your need is far greater than mine.” Neelie rubbed her arms as if she’d taken a chill. “Right now, my brother is providing for me until I can get to the job awaiting me.”
Ian stepped closer. “Can you say you’re content with living your life alone? A life without family?”
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“I’ve seen you with Anna. You enjoy her company. And your brother’s. And the way you interact with my children.” Ian squinted into the sun. “You were made for more than entertaining strangers. Will you at least consider my proposal?”
“I’ll think about it. But right now I need to help Anna.” She glanced toward the wagons.
He nodded. “First, there’s something else you should know.”
“Besides the fact that you have five active children and a mother who struggles with the vapors?”
“Yes.” Fine time for his eyelid to start jumping. “I loved Rhoda, and I still miss her. You would sleep in the farm wagon with the younger children and Mither.”
“I understand.” The stunned look in her eyes told him she’d already thought about his proposal and hadn’t decided in his favor. Good chance he’d have his answer by the time they reached camp that evening.
Then what would he do?
Neelie wasted no time leaving Ian at the pasture. She didn’t know whether to feel flattered or pitied. A proposal of marriage hadn’t played a part in any of the scenarios she’d imagined when first seeing Ian Kamden perched in a cottonwood tree.
The landmark that had dominated her view of the prairie the past couple of days taunted her. In the distance, Chimney Rock’s towering peak rose hundreds of feet from the earth, reminding her of hearth and home.
Her heart racing, Neelie recalled what Anna had said about her and Caleb being antagonistic toward each other when they first met. That aptly described some of her first encounters with Ian. She took quick steps toward the farm wagon at the center of the semicircle. She needed to speak to Anna privately. That was what sisters were for, wasn’t it? Sisters confided in one another, or at least that was how her dreams of having a sister had unfolded.
Women packed up foodstuffs and gathered children, while men greased wagon wheels and secured harnesses. The area around her family’s wagon was tidy and empty except for the four yoked oxen.
“Neelie? Is that you?” Anna’s voice came from inside the wagon.
“Yes.” Neelie stepped up onto the wheel spoke and pulled back the flap. Anna knelt in front of an open trunk and waved her inside.
Neelie climbed over the rim and onto the seat. She hadn’t been inside the wagon yet. Trunks, barrels, and a couple pieces of furniture crowded the floor except for a narrow aisle down the middle. A hammock hung suspended between a couple of bows.
Anna closed the lid of the trunk then sat on it and looked at Neelie. “Caleb said Ian Kamden asked to speak with you.”
Neelie sank onto a cask. “He did.” She leaned closer to Anna, fearing someone would overhear her. “Ian suggested that we marry.”
“Each other?” The second word went up an octave.
“Yes. Him. Me. Marry.”
Anna pressed her hand to her eyelet collar. “What did you tell him?”
“That we don’t really know one another, and that I have a job waiting for me.”
“What did he say to that?”
“Basically, that I’m a very capable woman and that we could help one another. He asked me to consider it. But I’d be crazy to marry a man I hardly know, and what I do know is that he lost his wife only a couple of months ago and has five children and a mother who requires special attention.”
“That right there says why marrying you might help him, but do you think marrying him could help you?”
Neelie shifted her position on the cask. She wanted to say she didn’t need help from him or from anyone else. But being here with Anna and these people was making it more and more difficult for her to lie to herself.
“There isn’t much protection for a woman out on her own, even one who can shoot. Getting lost in the middle of that family would give me added protection. Hattie is doing her best to help out, but she has her own family to think of.”
Anna tapped her finger against her cheek. “How does that help you?”
“I’d have the satisfaction that I’d done something good. For his children.”
“Sounds to me like you’re considering it.”
Was she?
“Neelie?” A man’s voice with a Scottish burr derailed the question. Did he expect an answer already? An impatient sort.
Neelie poked her head out of the puckered cloth at the grub box. Ian stood with arms akimbo, her sombrero atop his head.
She couldn’t help but smile.
“You dropped your hat in the pasture. I thought you might miss it on the trail.”
He’d noticed her hat missing and gone back for it? He wasn’t impatient, just thoughtful. And surprisingly likable.
God help her, she had her answer.
Chapter 8
Ian wrung his hands. He sat on a trunk, alone in the Conestoga, wearing clean brown trousers and the yellow dress shirt Rhoda made for him before they left Saint Charles. And now, less than four months later, he was about to marry someone else. And why?
That was the question Neelie had asked when he delivered his proposal two days ago. We need each other. That was what he’d said, but was convenience enough?
How convenient would being married to a pistol-toting woman who looked more like a frontiersman truly be? Ian swatted at a pesky fly.
On the trail, it could be plenty convenient to have the added protection of an ace shooter following his children around. He smiled, remembering Neelie’s response to his scolding about her shooting demonstration for the children. “Mr. Kamden, I hardly think cougars care whether it is the Lord’s Day or Tuesday when their stomachs take to growling. Do you?”
Sassy but efficient. He could live with that.
In addition to the widow’s ability to defend his children, she seemed to have gained their respect in a short time. Hattie had told him how Duff quickly returned the fabric bunny to Maisie in response to Neelie’s prompting and even apologized to his sister. And Maisie had expressed her approval of the widow when she picked a black-eyed Susan for her.
Ian scrubbed his freshly trimmed beard. Neelie hadn’t said much about her life with her husband, and she seemed to regret saying what little had spilled out. Someone had killed him. After the war. Was her tough exterior and sharpshooting meant to protect more than her grief? Her heart, as well?
He couldn’t blame Neelie for wanting to leave the past behind and start over out west. He was doing the same thing.
Ian reached for the tin photograph he’d set on the salt barrel and traced the lines of Rhoda’s face with a quivering finger. He doubted his ability to let go of the past with Rhoda. But, for the sake of his young ones he needed to think of the future, not the past. Tugging at his shirt collar, Ian drew in a deep breath. He was doing the right thing for his family.
“Faither?” Blair called. “The preacher asked if you’re ready.”
Standing, Ian ran his finger over the rough lines in Rhoda’s image then slid the tintype back into the trunk and closed the lid.
“If you’re not, I can tell the captain and Mr. Caleb so.”
“I’m ready.” Ian stepped out over the seat.
Blair stood at the tongue of the wagon, her clasped hands bouncing against her skirt. Not yet ten, she carried the weight of his collapsed world on her narrow shoulders. If his marrying Neelie could lighten the burden for his daughter, then doing so was more than mere convenience.
It was a necessity.
Neelie wouldn’t admit it, but she needed him, too, and his family. Ian climbed down from the wagon.
Blair chewed her bottom lip.
“I know this is hard for you. Me marrying again.�
�� He set a hand on her shoulder.
The strain of grief in her blue-green eyes pierced his heart. “I just wish Mither could come back to us.”
“I do, too.”
Blair sighed. “I know that’s not going to happen.”
Ian shook his head. He missed Rhoda, but the hardest part of losing her was watching his children suffer in their loss. Marrying Neelie wouldn’t right everything that felt wrong, but having her around would ease some of the burden.
Ian captured his daughter’s hand. “She can’t replace your mother. No one can. That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
“I know.” Blair tugged at her bodice as if it were too tight. “But she’s nothing like Mither.”
An understatement, if he’d ever heard one. “No. She isn’t.”
That was the only reason he could marry her. The fact that she wore trousers, a sombrero, and a gun belt assured him that he’d never confuse his emotions and forget Rhoda.
Neelie perched on the rim of a cask, staring at the shadow cast by a dim candle on the canvas. She still wore the green calico dress Anna had loaned her for the brief ceremony. Now that it was all said and done, she was expected to sleep in Ian’s farm wagon with Maisie, Duff, Lyall, and Davonna.
The older woman fidgeted in a hammock across the back of the wagon while the three children slept curled on trunks. Neelie turned to glance out through the flap she’d tied open. The countless stars that had served as her blanket most nights reminded her of the freedoms she’d lost. Freedoms she’d given away for a different surname and a place to hide out while she made her way west.
Was it just because she felt sorry for Ian’s motherless children? Or because what Ian had said rang true? She’d grown weary of a life with strangers who placed bets on her. A life without family.
“Dear.”
Neelie looked at the hammock, where Davonna Kamden held the ruffle of her nightcap up above her eyes like a curtain.
“You look lost, dear.”
“I suppose I am, ma’am. I’ve never slept in a wagon before.”
“Think of it like a cabin, dear. Only smaller.” Davonna looked at the canvas ceiling above her swinging bed. “And the roof and walls dance.” She waved her arm, nearly upsetting the hammock. “But the sad truth is, it’s nothing like home.” Home. A job and a room at a boardinghouse in San Francisco—that was what Neelie had been working toward the past six weeks.
The Convenient Bride Collection: 9 Romances Grow from Marriage Partnerships Formed Out of Necessity Page 17