Cam hurried out the door.
Johnny ate the rest of his pie and drank the milk, knowing Sally was watching him. This one-handed business could be downright awkward.
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and hoped he didn’t have crumbs in his beard. “I hope you’re feeling better now.”
“Much better, thank you,” Sally said with a gentle smile. “All I needed was a bit of solid food in my stomach.”
Cam came back with a leather satchel, and Sally rose.
“Oh, thank you. That’s exactly what I need. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll try not to take too long.”
Cam ducked out and came back with another glass of beer.
“Did you need to get that?” Johnny asked.
He shrugged and sat down.
Johnny got up and paced the parlor. Cam’s sobriety wasn’t his only concern. How much of their limited funds had his friend spent at the saloon?
“It’s going to be fine,” Cam said. “And she’s not half bad looking.”
“Stow it,” Johnny said, glancing toward the doorway.
Less than ten minutes later, she was back. He could hardly believe the transformation. She had not only changed into a fresh dress the color of pine needles, but around her neck hung a square-cut green stone in a gold setting, on a fine gold chain. The only remnant of her mourning attire was the black gloves. She had left off the depressing black hat and done something to her hair that made it look shimmery. He supposed she had brushed out the dust and cinders and re-pinned her updo. Whatever she had done, he was struck by the beauty of his bride.
“Don’t you look lovely, Mrs. Golding!” Cam stepped forward, grinning.
Johnny realized he’d been staring.
“Thank you,” Sally murmured to Cam, but her eyes were on Johnny.
“You do look lovely,” he said.
Her smile almost melted him. “You look nice, too, Mark.”
Cam and Sally seemed all too eager to get over to the church, but he didn’t resist. As promised, Cam had the rented wagon waiting outside, and a trunk bound with straps was in the back. Cam added Sally’s valise. Reckless and Paint were still tied down near the bank.
“Should we get the saddle horses?” Johnny asked.
“I’ll get ’em after the ceremony,” Cam said. “Come on.”
Johnny offered Sally his hand to help her up into the wagon. She smiled down at him and mouthed, “Thank you.”
As Johnny walked around the horses’ heads, Cam stopped him. “I got the ring.”
“Good.”
“They said if it doesn’t fit, she can bring it back and exchange it later.”
Johnny nodded. “How much was it?”
“Five dollars. They put it on your account at the store.”
Johnny winced, but he couldn’t do anything about it at this point.
On the short drive to the church, Sally looked around. “What a charming little town. I didn’t realize it had so much industry.”
“Rice mill,” Johnny said. “Lumber mills, too. There’s a lot of river traffic.” He drove up in front of the church and halted the horse. The minister stood in the doorway, beaming at them.
“Hello, Mrs. Golding. I’m Pastor Lewis.”
Johnny tried to file the name away in his mind. Mark would surely have known that.
“Hello.” Sally took the preacher’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
With his other hand, Mr. Lewis held out a posy of wild roses and greenery. “My wife asked me to bring these to you. If you already have a bouquet, we can use these as an altar decoration.”
“Oh, thank you. How very thoughtful. I didn’t have one.” Sally took the roses and held them to her nose.
Johnny kicked himself mentally. He should have thought of flowers. But where would he have gotten them? Mark didn’t have a flower garden, and he couldn’t have stolen them from someone’s yard in town.
“Aren’t they lovely?” Sally asked, holding them up for him to inspect.
“Yes.” Johnny nodded at the minister. “Would you please thank Mrs. Lewis for us?”
“Of course.”
“Howdy, boys.” Johnny swung around to see the sheriff walking toward them.
“Well, hi, Sheriff,” Cam said. “This is Mrs. Golding, soon to be Mrs. Paynter.”
“How do you do?” Sally said.
“The pleasure’s all mine, ma’am. I’m the local sheriff, Lionel Jackson. People call me Fred.”
Sally laughed. “Are you and Mark friends, Sheriff?”
“Not much, but he invited me to come today.”
“You can’t ask for a better witness to this auspicious event,” the minister said. “Shall we go in?”
Somehow Johnny managed to stay upright during the ceremony. Sally didn’t bat an eye when the Reverend Lewis said, “Do you, Mark John.” In turn, Johnny learned that Sally’s real name was Sarah Aileen.
He barely heard the rest of the minister’s words but repeated them when instructed to do so. Sally held his hand so tightly he thought he might lose a finger before they were done. It was the first indication that she might be somewhere near as frightened as he was, and that made him feel a smidgen less nervous.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.” Reverend Lewis smiled at him the way he might at a small boy who dropped his penny during the offering. “You may kiss your bride.”
That jolted Johnny back to earth. Sally was also smiling, but he could swear tears glistened in her eyes. He hoped she wasn’t going to cry. His mother had said once that women always cried at weddings, but he thought she meant other people’s weddings, not their own.
He leaned toward Sally, feeling awkward as he still held her right hand in his left, and he couldn’t use his other wing for balance. Her lips were quite a ways down, but Sally rose on tiptoe to meet him, and they executed a quick smack. Immediately, Cam slapped him on the back.
“Gentlemen,” the minister said somberly, “It gives me great pleasure to present Mr. and Mrs. Mark Paynter. Just let me sign the certificate, and you can be on your way.”
They shook hands all around, and between them Johnny and Cam put together two dollars for the minister’s fee. That about cleaned them out, Johnny surmised. The sheriff offered hearty congratulations and said he’d better get back to work.
“Thank you, Mr. Lewis,” Johnny said.
“Glad to do it,” the minister replied.
Cam walked out to the wagon with them. “What do you say we tie ol’ Reckless to the back of the rig? Then you two can go on home.”
“What about you?” Johnny asked.
“Thought I’d stay in town for supper. I’ll see you in the morning.” Cam headed off down the street toward where they had left the horses.
Johnny looked at Sally. “Well, uh…are you ready to see your new home?”
Her gentle smile warmed him. “I’m looking forward to it enormously, Mark.”
Johnny gulped and held out his left hand to give her a boost onto the wagon seat. That can’t-breathe feeling was back. What on earth would they ever talk about on the six-mile drive without Cam to keep the conversation rolling?
CHAPTER 9
So, um, yeah, it’s pretty small.” Mark looked around at the inside of his cabin as though he suddenly saw it through her eyes.
Sally patted his arm. “You warned me. Don’t worry about it. Like you said in one of your letters, if we get a good price for the cattle…”
“Right. Well, listen, I’ll bring in your things. Uh…” He looked toward the corner where a narrow bunk stood against the wall. “You can sleep there.”
Sally’s stomach plummeted. “And what about you? Where will you sleep?”
“I, uh…” He shifted his arm in the sling a little. “I guess with this and all…well, I thought maybe I’d sleep on the floor for now.”
She didn’t know what to say, and she hesitated too long.
Mark said quickly, “I should have built a bigger bed before you got here, I k
now. We actually were going to build a… Well, I got so caught up in the work, and—and—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she managed to say smoothly. “We’ll get by. Where does Cam sleep?”
“He’s staying in the barn. We need to fix it up better for him, but it’ll do for now.”
She nodded. “All right, then. If you can bring in my satchel first, I’ll get out an apron and get to work on supper. May I have full run of the kitchen?”
“Sure. It’s not much, but we did lay in a few supplies.” Mark looked sheepishly toward the other end of the cabin. “I’ve got a garden out back, but there’s not much right now. A few green beans and carrots and some crooknecked squash. Most of the spring garden’s about done, and it’s been awful dry this year. We’ll plant more later on, after we get past the worst of the heat.”
“I’ll see what you’ve got on hand. If we’re lacking something I need, will we be able to get more supplies soon?”
“Uh, probably. Sure.” But he looked doubtful. Sally decided she would make do with whatever he had, no matter how meager. For now.
Somehow, she had expected him to have everything ready and to stock up on foodstuffs. Had things taken a turn for the worse financially? She hoped her train ticket hadn’t cleaned him out.
He hurried out to the wagon and a moment later returned with her leather satchel.
“Thank you.” Sally nodded for him to set it on the bed, where she opened it. Mark began taking a few folded clothes out of a rough cupboard, made from wooden packing crates.
“You can use this if you want. I don’t have a dresser.”
“That’ll be fine,” Sally said.
Without comment, Mark headed for the door again. “You’d best leave my trunk until later,” she said. “Your arm…”
He hesitated in the doorway then nodded. “I’ll get you some water.”
She removed her hat and got out her best apron, one she had pieced from the scraps left from her various sewing projects.
She walked determinedly to the kitchen area. The situation wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. She found plenty of flour, cornmeal, oatmeal, and sugar, as well as baking powder, salt, pepper, lard, and a few canned goods. The dishes were scanty. She regretted selling off her few household furnishings after David’s death, but she’d had no place to store them, and she had desperately needed the money they brought.
At a thump behind her, she turned. Mark had set a wooden bucket half full of water on the floor near the worktable.
“I’ll bring in some eggs,” he said.
“Fresh eggs will be lovely.”
He nodded. “And it’s nearly time to milk the cow.”
“A cow? Wonderful! Do you have any meat?” she asked.
“There’s bacon in a crock in the root cellar out back, and I could kill a rooster. We’ve got three, I think. And Cam and I thought we’d butcher a bull calf after you got here.”
“It’s awfully warm for that.”
He shrugged.
“Do you fancy chicken pie tonight?”
“Sounds good. I’ll bring you the bird in a little while.”
Satisfied, Sally set about building up the cook fire and starting the piecrust. She would make a cake, too, but that would be a surprise. Our wedding cake, she thought with a wry smile. And this evening maybe she would have a chance to write to her mother and give her the news.
Mark didn’t seem to stand still long enough for her to ask him any more questions. He was in and out, bringing her half-a-dozen eggs and a few sticks of firewood at a time. After that, he didn’t appear for another hour, when he suddenly turned up with a dressed chicken and half a bucket of fresh milk.
More than once, she had eyed the narrow bed. Each time, she had turned her back on it. Had she come here to marry a man who wouldn’t share his bed with her? The broken arm was more than an excuse, to be sure, but that hadn’t happened until last evening, according to the story Mark had told her on the way to the ranch. He’d had weeks to build a wider bed. Why hadn’t he done it? Was it just an oversight? That seemed unlikely. But she couldn’t believe he’d had no intention.… No man would write such intense, heartfelt letters as Mark had if he didn’t mean to have a true marriage. And he had spoken of children.
She looked up at him as he set the bucket containing about a gallon of milk on the worktable.
“Thank you, Mark.”
“I can strain it for you.”
“I can do it. I’m sure you have a lot to do outside.”
“Not so much. I’ve done most of the chores.”
The rays of sunlight slanting in through the tiny window told her it was getting late. “I believe Cam said he won’t be here for supper?”
“Right.”
He didn’t look happy. Sally’s heart ached. She didn’t want to upset him, but she needed more than this. She put her hand lightly on his shirtsleeve.
“Mark, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. “You don’t seem glad that I’m here.”
“Aw, Sally.” He ducked his head as though embarrassed. “I don’t want you to feel that way. I’m glad.”
“Truly?”
He nodded.
“Well, good. Because I’ve looked forward to this day for so long. I…I feared I might have disappointed you. You can be honest with me, Mark. If I’m not what you imagined, or what you’d hoped for…”
“You are. You’re more than I hoped for.” His free hand found hers, and he gazed into her eyes. He didn’t look confident, though. If anything, he seemed frightened.
“You’re not scared of me, are you?”
“What?” He chuckled, but his voice cracked. “Well, maybe just a little. Sally, I—” He swallowed hard. “Are you disappointed?”
“Not at all.”
He let out a deep sigh. “I want everything to be the way you wished for it to be, but I feel like I haven’t done a very good job of that. Cam and I tried to get ready, but—”
“You and Cam?”
He looked at her again, anxiety radiating from his brown eyes. “I told you he’s an old friend of mine, didn’t I?”
“You mentioned it.”
“Well, when he came by looking for work, I couldn’t turn him away.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Sally said.
Mark nodded. “He’s been a big help. With the cattle and such.”
“I hope he can help you enough. You need to rest that arm.”
“Yeah, the doc said that, too.”
“Did he give you any medicine?”
“Some powder. I’m supposed to put it in my coffee or water.”
Sally put her hands on her hips. “Well, why didn’t you tell me? Where is it? I’ll fix you some now.”
He fished in his pocket and came out with a small bottle. “Here. A teaspoon, the doc said.”
“Does it hurt now?”
“Some. Milking the cow…”
She opened her mouth wide as she realized her own failure. “I never thought. How did you ever do it? Mark, I know how to milk a cow. I’ll do it next time.”
“I expect Cam can do it in the morning. I just used one hand and didn’t strip her dry. We usually get about twice that much.” He eyed the pail ruefully.
“Should I go out and—”
“No, she’ll be fine.”
Sally sighed. “All right, but there’s something we need to get straight. I’m your wife now. That means we’re partners, and I’m not afraid of hard work. If you need anything—whether it’s because of your arm or something else—you tell me.” She eyed him sharply. “How did you dress that chicken?”
He chuckled. “I held it down with my foot.”
She shook her head. No wonder it had taken him so long. “I’m ashamed of myself for not thinking about it. At least I know I married a resourceful man. Now, you sit down, Mark Paynter, and I’ll bring you that medicine. No more chores for you tonight.”
She thought they understood one another now. After taking his dose, Mark sat for a while, but he seemed restless and went outside again while she cooked the chicken and made it into a pie. She feared he got his supper much later than usual, but he ate two helpings.
“That was really good,” he said, laying down his fork. “Worth waiting for.”
“Thank you. There’s cake in the oven.”
“You made a cake, too?”
“Thought we could celebrate. If you don’t want sweets every day, it’s all right.”
“I love sweets. So does Cam.”
She tried not to show her disappointment at his comment. Why did Cam have to enter into every conversation?
She rose and refilled Mark’s coffee cup before cutting the cake. “I didn’t have time to make boiled icing, so I put a crumb topping on it.” She set a generous slice before him, on a small china plate she’d found in the cupboard.
“Smells mighty fine.” He lifted his fork and took an experimental bite. “Tastes fine, too.”
Sally smiled and cut herself a piece. She sat down next to him. “Now, tell me what we’ll be doing tomorrow. Will you be working with the cattle? Or shall we tend the garden?”
“I thought maybe I’d help Cam fix up his room out in the barn. Hated to kick him out of the house.”
“He was sleeping in here?” Sally asked.
“On the floor. But he ought to have a proper bunk and a mattress.”
“So should his employer.”
Mark’s face went red. “We can tend to that, too. But I want Cam to have a nice place of his own, so he’ll be happy working here.”
That made sense, but Sally had heard about all she cared to of Cameron Combes. “All right. If you two work out there, I can milk the cow and feed the chickens and get my trunk unpacked.”
“We’d better get that inside,” Mark said.
“Cam hasn’t returned?”
“No sign of him.”
“Well,” Sally said, “as long as it doesn’t rain, the trunk should be all right in the wagon.”
“Oh, we have to return that tomorrow,” Mark said.
“Maybe that would be a job for Cam.”
He gazed at her for a long moment and then looked away. “I expect so.”
Sally kept an ear tuned to hear the hired man return, but no one rode up to the ranch all evening. While she washed the dishes, Mark puttered about, moving things an inch here and there. He offered to sweep the floor, but she couldn’t imagine him doing a good job with one hand. Still, he had killed that rooster.…
The Outlaw Takes a Bride Page 10