Whispering Pines

by Scarlett Dunn

  When they entered the pines, Clay heard the soft whistling sounds of the wind in the trees. As they approached the plateau, they saw Joseph standing with his arms raised to heaven, speaking in his native tongue. Joseph turned when he heard them and said, “We are ready.”

  Rose whispered something to the pastor and he nodded. Morgan pulled him aside and spoke to him quietly before everyone took their positions at the altar.

  Clay started to speak about the sanctity of the marriage vows, but stopped in midsentence when he thought he heard people laughing. It almost sounded as if the sounds were coming from heaven. He looked at the wedding party and guests, but they didn’t appear to think anything was amiss, so he continued on.

  Clay reached the point where Rose was going to place a ring on Morgan’s finger, and Morgan was surprised when she took his hand in hers and slid a ring in place. It had been her grandfather’s ring, and Rose worried that it might be too small for Morgan’s large fingers. To her surprise, it fit perfectly. She looked into Morgan’s dark blue eyes, trying to convey the love she felt for him.

  Morgan took her hand in his, and from his pocket pulled out the diamond ring he’d purchased in Denver. Rose gasped when she saw the glittering ring he’d placed on her finger. Seconds later, Clay pronounced them man and wife, and Morgan took Rose in his arms and kissed her. When the kiss ended, the men applauded before they stood in line to kiss the bride and shake the groom’s hand.

  Joseph approached Morgan and Rose and took their hands in his. He looked up to heaven and said, “Great Spirit, direct the four winds to guide them as one on this earth, together in harmony.”

  It seemed to everyone at the gathering that the winds picked up after Joseph spoke.

  Clay shook Morgan’s hand. “You were right about this place. Did you hear laughter?”

  Granny heard Clay’s question, and she hooked her arm through his. “I’ll explain on the way to the house. We are going to have wedding cake.”

  Morgan had his arm around Rose as they walked back to the house. “Was this Preacher’s ring?”

  “Yes. Granny gave it to me. We were worried it might not be large enough for your finger.”

  “I’m honored to wear it, and it’s a perfect fit,” Morgan assured her.

  Rose held her hand up and looked at her diamond ring. “I’m afraid it’s much simpler than this one. It’s such a beautiful ring, I never expected anything so lovely.” Actually, Rose hadn’t expected Morgan would think to give her a ring. “It’s not nearly as beautiful as you.” Each time he looked at her, he could hardly believe his good fortune. “That was the reason for my trip to Denver.”

  “You certainly surprised me,” Rose said, feeling guilty at the memory of her questioning his trip to Denver. “Did I ruin your surprise because I thought you were seeing another woman?”

  Morgan squeezed her to his side. “Honey, you could never ruin anything for me.”

  Everyone walked into the house for cake, but Morgan noticed Joseph walking toward the bunkhouse. Instead of following the others through the door, Morgan held back. He pulled Rose into his arms and kissed her again. Their kiss ended and he whispered, “Are you happy, Mrs. LeMasters?”

  “Very. Are you happy?”

  “Yes, and I’ll be even happier tonight when I have you all to myself.”

  Rose didn’t think Morgan was the type of man who would ever say he loved her, but she knew he cared for her. She loved him, but she didn’t want him to feel obligated to say words he didn’t feel. She’d wait, and pray one day his feelings for her would evolve into love. “Am I going to see you without your shirt?”

  Her teasing surprised him, and he arched a brow at her. “Can you wait until tonight?”

  Rose started to blush. “Behave yourself.”

  Morgan kissed her again. This time he held her tightly to him without worrying about doing something improper. Hearing someone walk up behind him, he turned around to see it was Joseph.

  “Ready for some cake?” Morgan asked.

  “Yes. Here is wedding blanket,” Joseph said, holding out a folded blanket.

  “Oh, Joseph, you didn’t need to give us a gift,” Rose said.

  “It is for you,” he said.

  Rose took the beautifully woven blanket from him. “Thank you.”

  Joseph looked at Morgan and gave him a little smile. “This will give you many children.”

  Morgan raised his brow at the little man. “I’ll put it to use first thing.”

  Rose kissed Joseph on the cheek. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  “My bride and I would like you to take two head of cattle in celebration of our marriage,” Morgan told him.

  Joseph nodded. “As soon as I try wedding cake.”

  Morgan picked Rose up in his arms and carried her over the threshold. “Welcome home, Mrs. LeMasters.”

  The day was filled with laughter, no one mentioning Frank or Stevie. Later that night when Morgan and Rose retired to their bedroom, Morgan pulled off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. He pointed to the corner of the room and said, “I put the dressing screen in here if you aren’t comfortable undressing in front of me.” He hoped she wouldn’t use the screen, but she was young and inexperienced, so he would be patient and give her time.

  Rose hesitated. She was shy about undressing in front of him, but she knew she would overcome her shyness eventually. She decided to talk to him for a few moments to see if that would put her at ease. “Why did you give Joseph two cattle?”

  “Not all of his people are on the reservation, and they don’t have enough to eat. I imagine the women worked many hours to make that blanket. The cattle will show our appreciation for their special gift.”

  “But aren’t they all supposed to go on the reservations?”

  “I’ve been free to roam this country my whole life, just as they have. I wouldn’t want to be on a reservation, so why should we ask that of them? This was their land before we were here, and they are allowing me to use it. A couple head of cattle a few times a year is hardly payment enough.”

  She was learning her new husband had unusual views on the subject. As Granny had told her, there was more to Morgan than met the eye. “Thank you for including me in the gift.” She sat on the bed and started to remove her shoes.

  Morgan kneeled on one knee, took her foot in his hand, and removed her shoe. “You are part of my life now, and that includes anything that happens on this ranch. What is mine, is yours.” He removed her other shoe before reaching under her skirt. He found her garters above her knees, and removed them one by one. Then he slowly rolled down her stockings.

  The way he deftly handled her stockings, Rose figured he’d removed ladies’ garments before. She refused to allow jealousy to creep in her mind. He was her husband now, and she trusted him. By the time he finished, she was shivering from his touch.

  Morgan was tempted to do much more, but he forced himself to take it slow. He stood, unbuttoned his shirt, stripped it off, and tossed it on the nearest chair.

  Rose stood in front of him. She didn’t know if a man should be called beautiful, but he was so perfectly formed it was the only way she could describe him.

  Morgan saw how she was staring at his chest. He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. “Touch me, Rose.”

  Rose slowly ran her hands over his massive chest, much like she’d wanted to do the first time she saw him without his shirt. She caressed his shoulders, then moved her hands over his torso again before gliding down past his stomach to his waist. When Morgan couldn’t take much more, he reached for her hands and brought them to his lips. His dark eyes bore into hers, and he whispered, “My sweet Rose.”

  “I could go ask Granny to unbutton my dress . . .” She turned her back to him. “But if you wouldn’t mind.”

  Morgan glanced at the long row of buttons down her back. Why did women have all those tiny buttons on their clothing? He remembered the day of the stagecoach accident when the buttons w
ere down the front of her dress and it had taken him forever to get the darn thing off.

  He thought his heart might give out before he got this dress off of her. He took a deep breath, and started with the first button at the back of her neck. He was sweating by the time he finished. He pushed the dress from her shoulders and it dropped in a puddle around her ankles, but she was still wearing a corset, chemise, and bloomers. He unlaced the ties on her corset and tossed it on top of his shirt. He didn’t see buttons on the chemise, so he figured it buttoned in the front. To his delight and surprise, he knew when she lowered her head she was unbuttoning her chemise. When she finished, with her back still to him, he gently slid the straps down her arms and let it drop to the floor.

  Standing there in nothing but her bloomers, Rose was trying to muster the courage to turn around and face him. Before she did, Morgan slid his arms around her waist and held her. He ran his lips over her shoulder, progressing leisurely to her neck. Rose gripped his arms and leaned her head to one side and closed her eyes, forgetting all about her inhibitions. His chest felt so warm and solid against her back, and his tender kisses made her mind race with images of what was to follow tonight.

  “You are so beautiful,” Morgan whispered.

  She turned around in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Reuben insisted Frank and Walt hold him at gunpoint as they made their way from his home to the back door of the bank, in the event anyone was watching. They didn’t see one person as they hurried along the back of the buildings.

  But there was someone who caught a glimpse of the men through an alleyway. Stella Wood, a soiled dove at the Crystal Saloon, was sitting on the second floor balcony, scantily clad and drinking a whiskey-laced cup of coffee. It was her Sunday morning ritual to listen to the church bell ringing. The other girls were still in bed, and Stella enjoyed her quiet time alone on Sunday mornings. She hadn’t been inside a church since she was a young girl, but she’d never forgotten the peaceful solitude of the small church she’d attended. The soiled doves knew they weren’t welcome in church, and most of the girls didn’t care one way or the other. They didn’t bother to even get out of bed before noon on most Sunday mornings. Oftentimes, Stella wished she was brave enough to put on her most demure dress and go to church just so she could listen to the old hymns. Not wanting to be shunned by the townsfolk, she’d never summoned the courage to give it a try.

  Stella’s musings were interrupted when she glanced across the street and saw three men walking behind the buildings. When they crossed a wide alleyway, she realized the man leading the threesome was the strange little clerk who worked at the bank. It looked to her like the man behind him was wearing a bandana covering most of his face, and he was holding a gun in the clerk’s back. There was no doubt in her mind they were making their way to the bank. She thought about raising an alarm, but she’d seen the sheriff lock his office and head to church earlier. There was no way she’d walk in that church to fetch the sheriff, not even if the entire town was burning down.

  If those men were robbing the bank, the way she looked at it she didn’t have a horse in that race. It wasn’t as if she had money in the bank, and she didn’t expect she would ever earn enough money to save. It was her opinion the Denver Bank had made more than their fair share of money by selling the farms and ranches they’d foreclosed on during these hard times. Nor did she feel any particular concern over the bank clerk’s welfare. He wasn’t one of her customers, and she’d never even seen him in the saloon. She’d passed him a time or two on the sidewalk, but he’d never looked at her, not even to offer a polite nod like most men. When his boss came into the saloon, he didn’t give her the time of day either. So why should she get all hot and bothered about these men sticking up the bank?

  * * *

  Frank and Walt pulled their bandanas away from their faces once they were inside the bank. Walt locked the back door as Frank lowered the shades covering the front windows.

  Reuben took both of their saddlebags. “Both of you keep your eyes on the street while I fill these up.” He knew the combination of the vault by heart, and he quickly opened the safe.

  Frank and Walt took their positions by the windows where they could peek through the shades and watch the street in both directions.

  “It’s a quiet street on a Sunday morning,” Frank whispered.

  Walt saw the woman sitting on the balcony above the saloon. It was the pretty dove who had been playing cards the day he’d been in the saloon. She was the one who’d smiled at him. He wouldn’t mention her to Frank, because if she saw them enter the bank, she wasn’t doing anything about it. He saw no reason to put her life in jeopardy by telling Frank. Frank wanted to kill Joseph Longbow because Joseph could identify him as one of the rustlers. It stood to reason Frank wouldn’t hesitate to kill that woman if he thought she could pin the robbery on him.

  After a few minutes passed, Frank walked around the counter near the vault door. “You about finished?”

  “Yes, just keep your eyes on the front,” Reuben said. “I can handle this.”

  Frank didn’t like Reuben giving instructions, but this wasn’t the time to set him straight. The little man could pull the door of the vault shut, and they would walk away with nothing. He walked back to the window and looked out. He’d take care of Reuben later.

  Stella watched as the shades lowered at the bank. They were definitely robbing the bank. Maybe she could work this to her benefit. She walked into her room and grabbed her robe.

  Walt saw the gal sitting on the balcony walk inside. He had a feeling she’d been watching the bank. Still, he wasn’t going to say anything unless he saw her leave the saloon and head for the sheriff’s office. He waited and watched the front door of the saloon. He figured she could leave by a back door, but something told him to remain quiet.

  Reuben walked from the vault and handed the men their saddlebags. “I’ll stay here until you have time to get out of the area.”

  Frank looked out the window one last time. “Let’s get out of here, Walt.”

  “I’ll see you in a week,” Reuben reminded him.

  “Sure thing.” Frank opened the back door and started running toward the brush. He didn’t look back once he entered the trees, until a shot rang out. He stopped and looked back toward the bank, but he was already too far into the trees to see anything. He listened, thinking he would hear Walt running behind him. Nothing. Where was Walt?

  * * *

  Walt ran from the bank with his saddlebag over his shoulder when he skidded to a halt. Standing at the corner of the building was the woman who had been sitting on the balcony. Walt was face-to-face with her. Up close, she was even prettier than he remembered. She wasn’t wearing makeup today, and she looked young and innocent. He couldn’t explain what happened to him in that moment, but a strange feeling came over him. He nodded.

  Stella smiled at him.

  Walt stared at her. She was smiling, but there was something about her, maybe the lonely look in her eyes, or perhaps it was the haunting look of hopelessness. Whatever it was, Walt had an overwhelming urge to grab her and take her with him. If someone had asked him yesterday if he’d ever settle down with one woman, he’d have told them they were crazy. He was a drifter, a loner. There’d been many a time he’d felt emptiness of his solitary life, but those were the times he’d pick up and move on to the next town.

  He’d already planned on leaving Frank and his gang after this holdup. He didn’t trust Frank, he was evil through and through, and the farther he got away from him, the better. The money he was carrying was the means to a whole new life. Why keep drifting? Why not try something totally new? Suddenly, he could see himself settling down with a woman. This woman. He opened his saddlebag and removed a stack of bills. He held the money out to her.

  Stella recognized Walt immediately. She didn’t know his name, but she remembered the day he’d walked into the saloon. When he smiled at her, she thought he was the most ha
ndsome man she’d ever seen. She remembered thinking she wished she wasn’t playing cards with other customers because she wanted to talk to him. The other gal who’d drank with him said he treated her real nice. Stella took the money from him. “Which way are you going?”

  “South,” he replied.

  “I’ll tell them you rode north.”

  Walt glanced around and listened. Hearing nothing, he holstered his pistol and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He kissed her with a longing he didn’t know he possessed. When he released her, he said, “I’m Walt. I’m meeting Reuben in a week. If you’re interested, come with him and I’ll take you with me.”

  For the first time since she was a young girl, Stella felt hope rising up in her soul. “I’m Stella, and I’ll be there.”

  “Stella, you’re beautiful.” He tipped his hat and then ran for the trees.

  Frank stepped out of the dense thicket. “Who fired that shot?”

  Walt had his pistol in his hand so he wasn’t worried about Frank getting the drop on him. “Reuben pulled his derringer. He was going to double-cross us. Keep going, I’ll see you at the Conner place.”

  Frank turned around and ran for his horse, jumped in the saddle, and didn’t wait around for Walt before kicking his horse into a gallop.

  By the time Walt got to his horse, Frank was out of sight. Frank was headed back to the Conner cabin, so Walt rode south.

  * * *

  “Reuben, what in the world happened here?” the sheriff asked.

  “Two men were waiting for me as I left my home to go to church this morning. They forced me at gunpoint to the bank.” Reuben played his role well. Walt had only grazed his upper arm with his shot, but it appeared to the sheriff that Reuben had put up a struggle. “I’m sorry they got away with the money, Sheriff. I tried to stop them.”