Straight For The Heart

by McDonough, Vickie;

  “That’s sad.” Sarah looked back at the abandoned plant.

  That was life, as far as he was concerned. Some benefited from living in the Badlands but most were victims of the harsh winters and hot summers in one way or another. Still, he was grateful for the town the marquis started. Without Medora, it would be a long trip to the next closest town.

  They crossed the river and rode on in companionable silence for the next few miles. He had to admit he kind of liked having a pretty woman at his side, and he couldn’t wait to see his grandma’s expression when he returned with a blue-eyed brunette instead of a redhead. But what was he going to tell her? How could he explain that he married a stranger just to get her out of jail? It sounded ridiculous when he thought of it that way.

  He just couldn’t leave that red-faced waif in that dark cell. Maybe he’d been quick to marry, but he didn’t have time to socialize and court a woman like they wanted to be. He didn’t even know a woman he would have fancied courting. But now he had a wife.

  It sounded weird even in his mind. His wife. Sarah McFarland.

  “Over there’s where I found the horse I rode into town. It was just standing off the road, eating grass. I was tired and nobody answered my call when I hollered. I figured it must have gotten loose in town and wandered out here.”

  He looked where she pointed, and sure enough, the grass was broken down as if a large animal had walked through it. He started to turn his head back to the road when he spotted a pile of manure. So a horse had been there. Sarah’s story was far-fetched, but maybe she was telling the truth. But even if she’d found the horse, it still didn’t account for the gold she had in her possession.

  She worried her lower lip and fidgeted in the seat for the next fifteen minutes, always scanning the area on his side of the wagon. Was she looking for something?

  A short while later, she motioned to his left. “Pull over there, and I’ll get my, uh. . .belongings.”

  Quinn glanced around, wondering where she could have stored them. There was nothing but rocky buttes, ridges, and grass for as far as he could see. He stopped the wagon and set the brake, but his wife scurried down without waiting for his help. Picking up his rifle, he stood, watching her shuffle down the incline beside the road. He jumped to the ground, not liking how she trotted off unarmed into the wilds without any hesitation. Didn’t she know any number of critters might be down there, awaiting prey for dinner? Was she trying to ditch him and get away?

  He was halfway to her when she disappeared into a rickety old shack he just noticed. He heard high-pitched squeals and quickened his steps. Voices? Someone else was in the shanty. Quinn slowed down and raised his rifle. Could she be leading him into a trap? Had she led him straight to her outlaw den? If so, they sure weren’t very successful outlaws.

  His wife’s soft voice carried out the door. He couldn’t hear her words, but the happy tone didn’t indicate she was plotting his demise. Still, he took cover behind a pine and kept his Winchester ready.

  She stepped outside carrying a rusty rifle pointed toward the ground and a faded old quilt in one arm. Her belongings, he surmised. That’s what she’d made all that fuss over?

  Behind her, a young boy and even younger girl stepped out of the shanty. Their gazes darted from side to side. Quinn’s concern about outlaws shifted to cold shock. His mouth sagged open, and he couldn’t do a thing about it. There was no chance on earth that those were her children. Although both kids had the same blue eyes as Sarah’s, the boy’s hair was brown while the little girl’s was blond. Quinn’s mouth went dry. These were her belongings? His wife had deceived him. He scowled. “What’s going on?”

  “Children, this is my husband, Quinn McFarland.”

  Both of the kids gawked at him. He steeled himself not to squirm under their scrutiny.

  “This is Ryan, and this is Elizabeth.” Sarah touched each child’s head in a loving caress. “Ryan is eight, and Beth is six. They’re my brother and sister.”

  His anger burned like a grassfire in a heavy wind. Hadn’t Will mentioned something about some children? So she hadn’t been lying about them either. No wonder she was so desperate to get out of jail that she’d agreed to marry him. He was a fool to hope maybe she’d seen something in him that she’d liked. That he was a cavalier knight who’d swooped in and rescued the innocent maiden. Instead, she’d played him like a pawn on a chess board.

  “Are we going to live with him?” The little girl’s worried gaze darted between Quinn and Sarah.

  Sarah nodded her head and smiled softly at the child. “Yes—”

  “No!” Quinn hollered.

  The color drained from Sarah’s face as she stared at him with disbelief.

  The little girl started crying and grabbed Sarah’s skirt. “Don’t leave us again. You promised you’d never leave me, but you did.”

  The boy crossed his skinny arms and glared at him. Quinn felt like an egg-sucking dog. Like a low-down, yellow-bellied snake. What kind of a man refuses to care for needy children? Especially a man who’d helped raise his own siblings. They’d just caught him off guard, was all. He’d barely gotten his twin sister and brother raised and married off. He hadn’t wanted a wife, and now he was strapped with two more children. And he didn’t like losing control of his life. His throat closed as if he was the one with a hangman’s noose tightening around it.

  “No?” Sarah’s eyes sparked like blue fire. Beth whimpered and sniffled into her sister’s skirt. “How can you refuse to care for two orphans?”

  Hadn’t he just asked himself the same question? He ducked his head, shamed by his outburst, his shoulders weighted with guilt. “Sorry. Of course they can come. I was just taken off guard. Is that all of your stuff—or do you have any more surprises for me?”

  Sarah furrowed her brow. “That’s everything.”

  He stepped forward and took her bundle and rusty rifle before she decided to turn the weapon on him.

  “You two get in the back of the wagon.” Sarah motioned the children up the hill.

  “I want to sit with you.” The girl’s whine sent a chill down Quinn’s spine. What had he gotten himself into?

  But what else could he do? It was a miracle the two younguns were still alive after a stormy night alone in that old shack. Why, the door didn’t even look as if it closed.

  The boy—Brian? Rowan? What was his name?—scowled at Quinn as he stomped past him.

  Quinn pursed his lips. He deserved the boy’s ire. He’d probably spent the last day and night protecting and comforting his younger sister while worrying himself half sick about his older one. The scrawny lad looked exhausted and dark rings shadowed his eyes. When was the last time they’d all had a good meal? Or a bath?

  He swung the wagon back toward Medora with Sarah and her two siblings aboard. How could a man lose control of his life so fast? Quinn hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees. He peeked in the back of the buckboard. The girl had curled up on the worn quilt, but the boy sat with his back against the side of the wagon, his arms on his knees, glaring at Quinn.

  Well, he certainly deserved the boy’s contempt after his foolish outburst. But any man would be angry to marry a woman and find out she had two kids she hadn’t told him about. It didn’t matter that they were siblings and not her own children. They were a responsibility he hadn’t bargained on. He needed more children on the ranch about as much as he needed a three-legged horse.

  But wouldn’t his grandmother be delighted to have children in the house again? He just wasn’t sure how she’d respond to him marrying a woman in jail. She’d probably say he deserved the kids after marrying in such haste. This was all the fault of Miss Zerelda von Something-or-other. If she hadn’t agreed to come in the first place, or if she’d at least honored her agreement and married him, none of this would have happened. Maybe it was all a bad dream and he’d wake up in the morning with everything back to normal.

  He sniffed a laugh. Yeah, sure. And tomorrow the sky would be
green.

  ❧

  Sarah was as angry as a hen drenched in dishwater. How dare Quinn say her siblings couldn’t come with them? Yes, he’d changed his mind rather quickly and looked plenty chagrined for his angry eruption, but it was obvious to her that he didn’t want the children. Well, like it or not, he was stuck with them. She could only hope he wouldn’t make them all miserable.

  An hour later, out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Beth moving. Her sister had been asleep since shortly after leaving the shack. Beth jerked up, and her frantic gaze darted around until it settled on Sarah. She smiled, hoping to soothe her little sister’s concern.

  “I gots to go, Sissy.”

  Quinn glanced sideways and sighed. “Whoa, hold up.” The wagon stopped, and he set the brake. He lifted his hat and swiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve. “Do your business quickly. We need to be getting home.”

  He climbed down, strode to the back of the wagon, and reached out for Beth. She spun around, shinnied over Ryan and the crates of supplies, and flew into Sarah’s lap. If Sarah hadn’t still been so angry, she might have laughed at her husband’s surprised expression. She set her sister aside, climbed out of the wagon without waiting for his help, and then lifted Beth down. Ryan stood and stretched then jumped over the side of the wagon and walked out into the tall grass.

  “Watch out for prairie rattlers.”

  Sarah’s heart pounded, and she glanced around. She might tolerate mice but snakes were another thing. Ryan jogged a ways past them, and Sarah and Beth finished quickly.

  “He don’t like us, does he?” Beth looked up at Sarah as they walked back to the wagon, and she realized her sister wasn’t limping.

  She turned and knelt down. “It’s not that, sweetie. I didn’t tell him about you, and he was just surprised. Men sometimes get angry if you surprise them.”

  “Like Uncle Harlan did?”

  Sarah nodded. A shiver ran down her back as she remembered her uncle’s short temper. She rubbed her right wrist—the one he liked to grab hold of when he wanted to scold her for some minor thing she or the children had done.

  “Papa never got angry.”

  Sarah smiled, glad her sister only had good memories of their father. He had never hurt them, but he’d shouted a time or two when she and Ryan had done something stupid. “Just give Mr. McFarland time, and he’ll see how sweet you are. Then he won’t be able to keep from loving you like I do.”

  Sarah hugged Beth, hoping desperately that what she’d said was true. Would Quinn’s grandmother be happy with her and the children? Or would she be angry at the big surprise her grandson would soon be popping on her?

  “How’s your ankle?”

  Beth stared at the ground. “It don’t hurt no more.”

  Sarah twisted her lips. Beth probably faked her twisted ankle just so she didn’t have to walk so far. Her sister might be small but she was clever. “Why don’t you pick some wildflowers while we wait for Ryan?” Beth nodded and skipped toward a nearby patch of flowers. Sarah glanced over her shoulder. Where was that boy? “Ryan?”

  “Coming.” He plowed through the grass like a crazed bull and stopped in front of her. “Why were you gone all night? Beth was scared during that storm.”

  “It’s a long story.” Sarah sighed. “Just know that I had no choice about returning before now. I’ll tell you later, but we’d better not keep Mr. McFarland waiting. He’s anxious to get home.”

  “I watched over Beth. Even held her last night when she was scared of the dark and crying for you.”

  Sarah smiled and tugged her brother into her arms. “I appreciate that. I knew I could depend on you. I’m sorry I scared you and didn’t get back before dark. Just wait until you hear what happened.”

  “Tell me now.”

  She turned Ryan back toward the wagon, determined not to rile her husband any more this day. Every man had his limit, and she sure didn’t want to find out what Quinn’s was. Beth scurried around gathering yellow, scarlet, and purple flowers. When she’d gathered a handful, she hurried over to Quinn. He checked one of the horses’ hooves and stood, patting the large animal’s rump.

  Beth nibbled her lip and watched him. When he turned her way, she lifted the flowers up to him. “These are for you.”

  His questioning gaze sought out Sarah’s, and she held her breath. Quinn stooped down and rested his forearms on his knees. “Why, thank you, ma’am. Nobody ever gave me flowers before.”

  Beth turned and flashed Sarah a wide smile. Quinn lifted her sister into the buckboard without complaint. Ryan climbed in back and glared at Quinn again.

  He sniffed the flowers. “Well,” he said, as Sarah approached, “looks like I’ve won over one of them at least.”

  Six

  The buckboard jostled and dipped to the left into the dried rut of a previous wagon, then bounced free of it a few feet down the trail. Sarah’s shoulder bumped Quinn’s, and he peered sideways at her. He ought to be furious with her deception, but now that he’d gotten over his surprise, the honest truth was he admired her for caring so much for her siblings that she’d marry a stranger. Still, his pride took another shot that she hadn’t wanted to marry him because she liked what she saw.

  He glanced in the back of the wagon. Ryan and Beth were both asleep. “I’ve got a young brother and sister, too.”

  His wife’s blue gaze darted in his direction. Her dark brows lifted.

  “Twins, actually. Adam and Anna will be twenty-five in another month. Both are married.”

  “Didn’t you mention that one has a baby?”

  “Adam, and his wife is Mariah.” A smile tugged at Quinn’s lip as he thought of Jonathon. “They live at the ranch when they aren’t traveling.”

  “Traveling?” Sarah picked up the canteen lying on the floorboard and took a swig.

  “Adam is a gifted artist. They tour the West, and he draws pictures for a man in Chicago who owns a gallery. Mariah writes dime novels.”

  His wife choked and nearly spewed the water she’d been drinking. “You’re teasing. She does not.”

  “Honest. She does.” He lifted a hand in the air and couldn’t help grinning at Sarah’s expression.

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing. It sounds so exciting.”

  Quinn shrugged. “I’ve read a few of her novels. They’re not bad, even though she generally has a woman saving the day.”

  Sarah dabbed at her mouth and scowled. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Not too realistic if you ask me.”

  She didn’t say anything but looked out over the Badlands. He’d like to know what she was thinking—if she was one of those women who thought they could outdo a man. Hadn’t he just saved her? And in doing so rescued her siblings from certain death?

  “What about your sister? Does she live on the ranch, too?”

  “No, she and her husband live on his ranch down south, ’bout a day’s ride from here.” Quinn guided the horses off the main trail and onto the one leading to the ranch. Yesterday’s storms were long gone, and the sun now shone down in full force. He lifted his hat, swiped the sweat from his brow, and scowled when he realized Sarah wasn’t wearing a hat. He’d have to see if one of Anna’s old ones was still around or buy her a new hat next time he came to town.

  What was he going to tell his grandma about her?

  “Does your sister have any children?”

  He shook his head. “Brett and Anna just married last fall, and several months after that, Adam and Mariah’s cute little son was born on the ranch.”

  “How old is he?”

  “A couple of months. He was born in March.”

  “I imagine you must enjoy him.”

  Quinn nodded. “Yeah, but I haven’t seen them since early last month.” He peeked at his wife and thought again how pretty she had cleaned up. He’d looked right past her in the store, not once thinking the pretty lady at the counter could be her. Yes sir, he’d done all right for himself.

&
nbsp; But what about her? Women had funny notions when it came to weddings and marrying. Had she been disappointed in her only choice of husband? If Will had given her a choice of men, would she have picked him or someone else?

  “Would you tell me about your grandmother?”

  “Sure,” he said, surprised that she’d asked. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and held the reins loosely in his hands. “My grandma and grandpa moved from Texas to Bismarck about a year after my dad moved us up here. Grandpa died four years ago, but Grandma stayed in Bismarck because of her friends and church. About a year and a half ago, she fell and broke her leg real bad. My mom left the ranch and went to live with Grandma so she could care for her. Mom never came home much after that.”

  “Must have been hard. I sure miss my mother.”

  Pursing his lips, Quinn watched a hawk circling in the sky. After his father’s death, he and his ma had gotten closer because they had to work together to keep the ranch running. He had missed her when she left them to tend Grandma, and now she was gone forever. “Ma died several months ago.”

  Sarah gasped and turned toward him in the seat. “I’m so sorry. What happened? I mean. . .you don’t have to talk about it unless you want to.”

  Quinn stared straight ahead, ignoring the compassion in her eyes. He’d cried at the funeral and didn’t want to go down that road again—especially not in front of his new wife. “She took sick with a fever. It was so fast it stunned us all. I brought Grandma to the ranch to live with me after that. She didn’t really want to come, but I didn’t want her all alone and didn’t have time to be traveling back and forth to Bismarck.” He didn’t mention that he hadn’t wanted to be alone either.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Sarah peeked over her shoulder at the children in back. “We lost our parents when the farmhouse burned down in late April. The children were at school, and I’d gone into town on an errand. We don’t know what happened.” She turned away and dabbed at her eyes.

  Quinn thought about the irony of the situation. He was struggling with his own mother’s death when about the same time the woman who would become his wife was enduring a similar loss, only worse.