by Kit Morgan
Abel hurried to where he stood. “What in blazes didja do?”
“Kissed Miss Porter.” He pulled out a small trunk from under his bed and opened it.
“Ya did what?! Oh fer cryin’ out loud!” Abel exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought I told ya to stay away from ‘er!”
“I tried. I failed.”
Abel was beside himself. “Well … well, ya’d best get on up to the house and start ‘pologizin’!”
“I already did – to Nate, anyway. What’s done is done, Abel. I’m just glad he didn’t punch my lights out. I deserved that – what I did was wrong, plain and simple.”
“Talk to Nate, son. He might bring ya back … down the road …”
“I wouldn’t if I were him.” He pulled out what few clothes he had and rolled them up in a blanket. “Rules are rules. I’d’ve done the same thing if I was him.”
“Ya can’t leave, Justin.”
Justin shut the trunk and put it under the bed. “Tell Nate that.”
Abel groaned and spun in a circle. “What’re ya gonna do now?”
“Try and find a job in Wiggieville. And if I can’t, I’ll head to Weatherford, I guess. Maybe the stockyards there are hirin’.”
Abel sighed with sincerity. “I’m plumb sad to see ya go, son. Gotten used to that wry wit of yers. Things’re gonna be dull ‘round here without ya.”
Justin gave him a solemn nod. “Tell Gideon goodbye for me, will ya?”
“Gideon? Ya mean yer leavin’ right now?”
“Nate wants me outta here at sunrise anyway. Might as well get a head start.”
“Ya can’t leave tonight! Ya … ya can’t leave at all!”
“Abel, I’ve caused enough trouble. If I stay I’m likely to cause more. And Nate said I gotta leave – what do ya mean I can’t?”
“’Cause, ya big dumb mule, yer in love!”
Justin stood stock still, his heart in his throat. Abel was right. He was in love. But how could that be? He hardly knew the girl – how could anyone fall in love with someone they barely knew? And yet he’d been asking himself the same thing over the last few days. Now it was confirmed.
But it still didn’t make any difference. “Yeah, I guess I am. All the more reason why I have to leave.”
“But son …”
“She’s gonna be married, Abel. Her intended’s already on the way here from San Francisco. I can’t do nothin’ about that. It takes both the fillin’ and the crust to make a whole pie. She belongs to someone else.” Justin picked up his things, turned on his heel and headed for the door.
“So that’s it?” Abel called after him. “Yer just gonna give up?”
“What else can I do?” he called back.
“It ain’t gettin’ fired has ya in such a dang hurry to leave, boy. Yer runnin’!”
Justin stopped at the door, one hand on the knob and looked back. “Goodbye, Abel. Thanks for all the advice – wish I coulda followed it.” And he left.
Twelve
Millie stood next to her bed, her heart pounding. What had she done?!
Nate Dalton had seemed calm when he told her to go into the house, but did he remain that way while dealing with Justin? What happened? More to the point, what was going to happen now?
A knock sounded on the door. Millie turned and crossed the room to open it. She might as well get this over with. Her hand shook as she opened it. “Yes?”
Nate stood on the other side. “Are you all right?”
“Of course.”
He breathed a sigh of relief.
She took a step back. Did he think she was in danger, that Justin would carry her off and have his way with her? “It was just a kiss, Mr. Dalton. He did nothing more.” And neither did I, she almost added, no matter how much I wanted to …
“It was inexcusable. I apologize for Mr. Weaver’s conduct. He acted less than a gentleman.”
“He’s a ranch hand, Mr. Dalton, not an aristocrat. Since when does a cowboy know the ways of a gentleman?”
“You approve of his actions?” he asked, a little shocked.
“Well, um … no. I was only saying that I know he’s not like you or me. He’s not from a place like Beckham. He wasn’t even raised in a town.”
“You sound like you’re making excuses for him.”
She sighed. “The man kissed me, nothing more. If you want to be upset with anyone, be upset with me. I didn’t stop him. It just … happened.”
“It happened after he’d been warned to stay away from you. You are my and my family’s responsibility for as long as you’re here, and I cannot have anyone in my family’s employ disobeying a direct order.”
She stared at him, dumbfounded. He’d told Justin to stay away from her? Did the man have such an attraction to her that Nate Dalton would do such a thing? “How did I not see it?” she whispered to herself.
“Excuse me?” Nate asked, not hearing her.
“Nothing,” she said. “I’m sorry my conduct has been less than ladylike. It does take two, Mr. Dalton.”
“Be that as it may, Miss Porter, I still hold Mr. Weaver responsible. Now, let’s just forget about it. You have to prepare for Mr. Whitbey.”
“Mr. Whitbey?”
“Yes – he’ll be here in a few days, remember?”
She turned away from the door. “Yes. Of course …”
“I’ll drive you to Weatherford myself. In the meantime, I suggest you continue to learn as much as you can from the other women. What they teach you can only help where you’re going.”
She looked at him. “San Francisco?”
“Marriage.” He closed the door.
Millie went to the bed and sat, then lay back, put her arm over her eyes and tried to keep the tears from falling. Never had she done such a foolish thing. Never had she enjoyed something so much. Justin’s kiss was like being transported to Heaven and back, his arms a warm blanket, a safe place where nothing could ever harm her. She recalled how she could feel the beating of his heart as she pressed against his chest, the heat of his body, his masculine scent …
Would she ever have such an experience with Mr. Whitbey? Was her kiss with Justin the one bright spot out of her entire existence? “Don’t be a fool,” she told herself and flung her arm away. “It was one kiss.”
But what a kiss …
Millie sat up. She’d have to forget about it. There was nothing else she could do. She was to be married in a few short days, and Justin had done what any man might do – stolen a kiss, nothing more. Even gentlemen had been known to do that.
She sighed. He probably had no real attraction to her and was only dallying. Nate must have seen it coming early on and thus gave Justin the warning to stay away from her. But he hadn’t –and in due course, he’d gotten what he wanted. She closed her eyes against the thought. Men – what brutes they could be!
Millie fell against the pillows and threw her arm over her eyes again. So why did she feel like her heart was breaking at the thought of never seeing Justin Weaver again?
* * *
Justin waited as long as he could before going to the main ranch house to collect his pay. Nate would need time to speak with Walton before he could get the money, since Walton was in charge of the books. And Walton might have something to say about Nate firing Justin over a kiss. Maybe Walton would argue to keep him on, or reduce it to a suspension …
… or run him off at gunpoint.
Walton apparently didn’t have anything to say, though, because when Justin went up to the ranch house after supper, his money was ready. As was Nate, who looked like he might be having second thoughts. But at this point, Justin didn’t care – he knew he needed to leave. Two or three more days near Millie would be too much for him. Best he get off the ranch now and be on his way.
But to where? That was the question. Thankfully, in his line of work, cowboys came and went. If nothing was available in Wiggieville, he’d be sure to find something by hanging around the Weatherford st
ockyards for a few days. And if worse came to worse, he’d hopefully have enough money for a train ticket to Washington State.
The only problem was that when he thought of home, what came to mind wasn’t the rambunctious Weaver clan and the orchards of Nowhere. It was Millie Porter’s warm embrace and soft lips.
Justin mounted his horse and did his best to shove the thought, all thoughts, aside. He rode from the ranch house at a canter, not bothering to look back, just focused on the road ahead. Several men watched him go and probably wondered why he was heading out so late. They hadn’t heard yet, but would by morning. He felt bad leaving without saying goodbye to Gideon, but he could write him from Weatherford, explain what happened and wish the man well. Then he’d either find a new job nearby or … go home to Nowhere.
Nowhere. He hadn’t thought a lot about it lately until his conversations with Millie. He told stories, of course – everyone loved those – but he hadn’t truly missed it until now. The question was if he went back, would things turn out as Abel had said? Would he be there for a while, get a case of itchy feet and run off again for parts unknown?
His ma and pa would hate that. They hated that he’d left in the first place. His twin brother and younger sisters would also be upset with him. He didn’t even want to think about his uncles, aunts, cousins and Granny Mary. With his luck, she’d have them toss him in the well and keep him there so he couldn’t leave.
He chuckled at the thought. Well-tossing was the Weaver way of dealing with things. But no wells around the Dalton ranch were deep enough to toss himself into and give him some sense – and where Millie was concerned, he had none. His getting fired was proof enough of that. The best thing he could do for her would be to leave her alone.
Besides, what would a woman like her want with the likes of him anyway? She had a successful man waiting to marry her, someone he could never hope to equal in terms of money or status. San Francisco was a big city too. What did he have to offer a woman like Millie? He didn’t even have a place to sleep. Or two good eyes.
He rode on. By the time he got to Wiggieville it was well after dark, and when he got a room at the hotel, all he could do was flop into bed. He was hungry, but didn’t care. Besides, he’d need to hang on to as much money as possible in case things didn’t work out and he had to leave Texas for good.
* * *
Millie ate very little at breakfast, her appetite non-existent. She gave her bacon to Hattie so she could give it to Justin. Though she had a strong feeling he wouldn’t be coming to play with the child that day, or the next, or … well, let’s face it, until after she was gone. She didn’t want to see the look on the child’s face when her mother told her.
She retreated to her room after breakfast with some of the mending, to get more practice. She sat on the bed and stabbed away at it, not wanting to speak to Nate and Libby. Conversation the night before had been minimal and she wasn’t ready to explain herself further. After all, what could she say? “Yes, Justin kissed me and it was the most wonderful moment of my life”?
She laughed bitterly to herself. What would the Daltons and Blues say to that bit of news? Would they label her wanton? (Possibly.) Would they cancel her marriage agreement with Mr. Whitbey? (Part of her hoped so.) Would any of them tell the man before he made his final trek to Weatherford to marry her? (Could they?) Would they turn her out of their ranch to fend for herself?
That last question didn’t bear thinking about, so she didn’t.
The day wore on and she had to fight to keep from thinking about Justin. She went for a walk at one point only to have Hattie and Libby go with her, leaving her wondering if Nate had told his wife to make sure to stay at her side. One never knew when a chance encounter with Justin might occur, and Nate probably figured there was safety in numbers. Justin wouldn’t dare try to steal another kiss if Libby were there.
Too soon, it was time for supper. Millie had helped Libby bake a cake that afternoon, quite an achievement for Millie. But she wished Justin could be there to share it with them. What were her chances of seeing the man before she left for Weatherford, though? She knew he’d avoid her at all costs now, especially after a talking-to from Nate. She hoped he wasn’t too hard on the cowboy, but hadn’t gotten up the nerve to ask …
“More coffee?” Libby asked.
Millie jumped in her chair. “Oh! Um … er … yes, thank you.”
“Wedding jitters?” she asked. “You do leave the day after tomorrow.”
“I suppose.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you pack and get things ready. Of course, you’ll need to pick out which dress you want to wear for your wedding.”
“Dress?”
“Yes – remember we told you about the dresses we have? We’ll take whichever one you like best and that fits to Weatherford with us.”
“Yes, now I remember. You and the others did tell me that.” Her voice was dull as dust.
Libby poured her a cup of coffee and watched Nate pick up Hattie and take her outside. “All right, what’s wrong?”
Millie’s eyes darted to the door. “Nothing.”
“I know he spoke with you yesterday about Justin. He told me what happened.”
Millie sighed. “It won’t happen again.”
“You wouldn’t be the first girl kissed by another man before her wedding. Just ask Gwen.”
“This is different. Your sister was set up to be kissed so it could start a scandal. Justin … I mean Mr. Weaver, kissed me because … he wanted to, I guess …”
“I noticed he didn’t come around this morning,” Libby commented. “I almost asked Nate about it, but decided against it.”
“I’m sure he told Mr. Weaver to steer clear of me until I’m gone.”
Libby poured herself a cup and sat. “Adele is coming over tomorrow, and Percy too if he has time. They haven’t been able to talk with you much since you’ve been here.”
“Are the people who live here in the habit of spending time with brides before they leave?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. We want them to feel comfortable while they’re with us.”
“Well, I guess it’s best that I’m gone as soon as possible.” Because I’m not feeling comfortable at all right now, she didn’t add.
Libby studied her. “You only have tomorrow.”
“Yes, I know.” She didn’t mean to sound so dour, but the urge to run away was overwhelming. The only problem was, she wasn’t sure what she was running from – or to. When she’d left Beckham it was as clear as a bell: she was running from a forced marriage to the execrable Hubert Toilet Tissue. She’d wanted to run from her marriage to poor Mr. Brown, but that was taken care of for her. Now she want to run because …
… oh bother! Because she’d fallen in love with someone she could never have.
“Millie?”
She jumped. “Oh good grief, I did it again. I’m sorry, I’m just so … so …”
“Distracted – yes, I can see that. By what?”
Millie stared at her and swallowed. “Nothing, I …”
“Justin.” It wasn’t a question.
Millie froze. “Of … of course not.”
Libby smiled. “Then why are you blushing?”
Millie pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. Was it that obvious?
“Your first kiss, wasn’t it?”
Millie closed her eyes and nodded.
“Those are hard to forget.”
Millie opened her eyes. “They … they are?”
“Sure. I remember my first kiss.”
“Who kissed you?”
“Nate, but …”
“But that’s not the same thing. You’re married to Nate. I’m not going to marry Justin.”
“Would you like to?” Libby asked in a soft voice, her eyes intent on Millie.
Millie’s heart jumped into her throat so fast, she almost choked on it. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
Libby sighed. “I’m not blind, Millie. I
notice that whenever Hattie talks about him, you light up and smile. And you talk about him too. If he was just a passing fancy, you’d shine Hattie on and move onto something else. But you keep asking her about him.”
Millie went stiff in her chair. Good grief, she had done that, hadn’t she? She’d been careful not to speak too much of Justin with the adults, but Hattie was another story. Hattie loved to talk about him as much as Millie did, and for similar reasons. They both loved him – but Hattie loved him as a playmate, while Millie … “Oh merciful heaven …”
Libby nodded sagely. “I thought as much.”
Millie’s shoulders slumped. If Libby could see that she was in love with Justin, who else could? And what about Justin himself – did he feel anything for her?
“You know, you don’t have to go through with the wedding if you don’t want to,” Libby commented. “We can reimburse Mr. Whitbey for the train fare and send him another bride later.”
Millie slowly looked at her. She hadn’t even realized she’d looked away. “You could?” she asked, far too excitedly.
Libby stifled a laugh. “Yes, dear, of course we could. You came here to avoid being forced into a marriage – we couldn’t very well force you into a different one!”
“But … but I don’t even know if Justin feels the same way.”
“Then ask him.”
“What?! I can’t do that!”
“Why not? How else are you going to find out?”
“But I, I, I couldn’t.”
“What would you rather do? Marry a man you know nothing about and who you’ll grow to love over time – maybe – or marry one you’re already in love with?”
“What if … if Justin has no feelings for me?” Millie shuddered at the thought, but his answer would tell her what to do.
“Who kisses a woman he has no feelings for?”
That was a good question. Cads would do that. Blackguards, whoremongers, Hubert Toilet Tissue … they would do that. But she couldn’t imagine Justin doing that …
“Look, if Justin says no, then you go ahead and marry Mr. Whitbey. Either way you get married. But remember – even if Justin says he loves you, he’s not prepared to marry. He has a job, yes, but no home of his own. The two of you might have to wait a while before you can become husband and wife.”