Those three words lingered in his ear, and he squeezed her hard, just for a moment. He wished Cam wasn’t here. He wished he didn’t have to think about lumber and green horses and financing a building project.
He let go of her and stepped back.
“We’ll be going in town. Do you want anything from the store?”
Sally laughed, a low, musical laugh. “Dozens of things, but I can get along with what we have. Mark, I don’t want to spend money if we don’t have it.”
He hesitated. “Tell me two things you’d like.”
“All right, more sugar and some cocoa powder.”
“I’ll get ’em.”
“Thank you. That’s real nice.”
He went out into the sunshine grinning.
Cam was turning the wagon slowly at the end of the barnyard.
“Everything go all right?” Johnny called.
“Right as rain. You ready to go to town?”
Johnny met him near the well and swung up onto the wagon seat. He looked back at the cabin. Sally stood in the doorway. She smiled and waved. A breeze caught a tendril of her golden hair, and it waved, too. Johnny lifted his hand in salute. In spite of the pain in his arm, he couldn’t hold back his grin.
“You’re a lucky man,” Cam said.
“She’s going to make us a chocolate cake.”
“Real lucky.”
Johnny turned forward and sat grinning and thinking about his bride.
He wasn’t much help in loading the lumber, but Cam insisted it was all right. The sooner his arm healed, the sooner they would finish their building projects. Johnny still hadn’t told him that he was sleeping on the floor, but he thought Cam might have guessed.
Johnny was more useful in holding boards for Cam to nail in place. They spent several days on framing the walls for the new bedroom and laying the floor. When that was completed, Cam put him to work sanding the four bedposts for Sally’s new bed. Johnny could hold a piece of wood steady by leaning on it or bracing his foot against it, and then he could sand with one hand.
After three days of work, during which the room slowly took shape, Cam set off alone after breakfast to fetch the windows.
“Now, don’t let Sally peek in there today,” he told Johnny before driving off. “We want her to be surprised when she sees it, with the glass windows and the new bedstead and all.”
“Oh, she’ll be surprised all right,” Johnny said. Cam had measured the bed frame himself, cautioning Johnny to make it wide enough for two people, but not too wide. “We’ll need a double mattress.” He frowned at Cam. “We don’t have much money left in the bank, but get some ticking.”
“Sure,” Cam said. “Sally can stitch it up, and we’ll fill it with fresh hay for her.”
Johnny watched him drive off, a little nervous. Why couldn’t Mark have taken care of all this before… ? Before what? Johnny sighed. If his brother had lived, he probably would have done exactly what he and Cam were doing now—made the cabin a nicer place for Sally.
The thought of his brother as Sally’s husband made Johnny feel like an interloper. Mark should be the one Sally did things for, the one she hugged around the waist when she was happy with him. Mark should be the one who would share the new room with her.
Johnny wasn’t sure he could bring himself to move in there when it was finished. Maybe Sally could put her things in there and he could keep the bunk in the corner.
But he knew that wouldn’t wash. Cam would have fits, and Sally… How would she feel? Would she be disappointed? Angry? Hurt? Confused?
Johnny walked over to the fence and gazed out at the cattle that grazed so peacefully. Mark had probably had a good stash of food, and maybe some cash when he was attacked. He’d have been in pretty good shape, or he wouldn’t have offered a woman his support and protection. Where did they stand now? As near as he could tell, he had about forty dollars total and three people to take care of. Where had Mark expected to get more money? He’d told Sally he intended to buy more cattle. Had the outlaws gotten the money he had set aside for their purchase?
“Mark!”
He turned toward the cabin. Sally was there in the doorway, her patchwork apron picking up the red of her calico dress and the gold of her gleaming hair. She waved, and Johnny raised his hand to wave back.
“I’ve got fresh gingerbread and whipped cream.”
A piece of something inside him slipped into a chink. How could she be so cheerful, when he found it hard to even smile? Yet she plunged into the work of the ranch and did special things for him. She’d mixed the medicine for him those first few days, when his arm hurt so bad. She baked up sweets and folded his bedding every morning. The cabin stayed neat as a pin, even though they barely had room to turn around. Sally didn’t complain, either. He’d caught her fetching her own pail of water yesterday, and she’d said she didn’t mind, since his arm was still mending. Johnny had determined that she would never be short on water once he was healed.
He walked toward the house and caught the spicy scent of the gingerbread. It overcame the smells of grass and dust and the smoke from the chimney, and it made his stomach flutter.
“Smells like my ma’s kitchen,” he said as he crossed the threshold.
Sally smiled. “Have a seat.”
His father had tried to take good care of Ma. Johnny needed to do the same for Sally. He hated that he lied to her. They’d never spoken of the secret things she had put in her letters, but he felt a great compassion for her. Someday maybe they could talk about really important things. Family. Children. God.
She had cut two big slabs of gingerbread and put them on Mark’s ironstone plates.
He had to stop thinking of everything as Mark’s. If he didn’t, someday he’d slip up.
“That looks real fine,” he said.
“Doesn’t it? I admit I can’t wait to eat some. And I’m glad you were close by, because the cream would break down if we didn’t eat it right away.”
Cam would miss out, but Johnny didn’t care. This was something Sally had done for him. She had deliberately waited until Cam had gone and they were alone on the ranch. Should he be nervous? He didn’t want to be. He sat down in his usual chair.
She poured coffee for both of them and sat down opposite.
“Should we pray?” he asked. It wasn’t a meal, and he wasn’t sure how she felt about praying for snacks.
“God tells us to give thanks for everything,” she said gently.
Johnny closed his eyes. “Lord, we thank You for this gingerbread…and for…for Sally being here to make it.” He opened one eye. Her eyes were closed, but she was still smiling. She had no idea how hypocritical he felt, praying when he knew he was a liar. “Amen.”
“Amen.” Her eyelids flew up.
Johnny caught his breath. Her eyes surely did set a man reeling.
“Mark, I wanted to do some washing this afternoon, but I couldn’t find any laundry soap.”
“Oh, yeah.” He and Cam had finished the last of it in their frenzy of cleaning to prepare for her arrival. But after her journey, Sally probably wanted to give her wardrobe a good soaking. “I ran out and should have asked Cam to get some more. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I can wait a few more days.”
Gazing into those eyes made him want more than anything to please her.
“How about if we go to town tomorrow, just the two of us?”
“Will you be up to it?” she asked.
“I think so. Reckless is driving pretty well now. You can go to the mercantile and pick out whatever you want.”
“For soap?” Sally asked.
“Soap and anything else you think we need.” Though how he would pay for it, he didn’t know. He would have to ask the storekeeper how much he owed already. How had Mark expected to support himself and Sally with such a small herd of cattle?
She was smiling at him. “I’d like that a lot, if you’re not too busy with the building project to take me.”
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“Oh, well…” Johnny rubbed the back of his neck. “If Cam comes straight back with those windows, we can put them in this afternoon.” Besides, Johnny was the boss now. If he wanted to take his wife in town, he could.
Sally’s smile made the gingerbread taste even better. She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, and a jolt of fire shot through him.
“Thank you, Mark. That’s very thoughtful of you. And if your arm starts to hurting, I can drive.”
That wasn’t going to happen, but Johnny didn’t think they needed to discuss it. He took a big bite of gingerbread.
CHAPTER 11
Sally sang softly to herself as she prepared the noon meal. The kitchen was sweltering hot, and perspiration soaked her calico bodice. She recalled that her mother used to serve a cold dinner on hot days and cook only in the early morning and the evening. Until she had an outdoor oven, perhaps she should follow that practice.
Cam drove up when the sun was high overhead, and Mark ambled out of the barn and joined him.
Sally went to the doorway. “Dinner is ready.”
Mark waved, and Sally went back to the stove to put the food on the table.
A few minutes later, the two men came in with droplets falling from their hair. Sally smiled, glad they were the kind who washed up before meals.
“Sit right down. I’ve got everything ready.”
Cam took his seat and said, “I reckon we can finish the windows today, ma’am. Mark said you’d like to go into town tomorrow.”
Sally wished he hadn’t phrased it that way. “Mark asked me if I’d like to go.”
Cam nodded. Was he thinking it wasteful to go to town two days in a row?
“I’ll bring that ticking in after we eat.”
“Ticking?” Sally asked.
Cam looked at Mark and raised his eyebrows.
“Uh, for the…the new mattress,” Mark said. His cheeks went deep red, and he reached for the water pitcher. “We…uh…we’re building a new bedstead for the addition.”
“I see.” Sally couldn’t look at either one of them. She jumped up. “I forgot the salt.” She hurried over to the cupboard but took her time fetching the saltshaker. Would Mark share the new furniture with her, or would she live in solitary splendor?
She liked Mark. A lot. When they were alone, he seemed as thoughtful and sensitive as he had in his letters. Maybe even more sensitive. Certainly more shy. She felt as though he was courting her, which wasn’t bad, except that they were already married. She hoped this stage wouldn’t last long. Maybe he was waiting for the new room to be finished, to guarantee them more privacy. Or for his arm to heal. Or for him to feel more comfortable with her, or with marriage in general. She sighed. There were so many forces at play, she couldn’t sort out his motives. Cam was a big help, especially since Mark had been injured, but Sally couldn’t help feeling the hired man stood between them and kept them from being as open and spontaneous with each other as they would be if they were alone on the ranch.
The next day, Mark informed her at breakfast that he would take her to town as soon as she was ready. He had helped Cam do the chores that morning, and Cam would stay behind to put some finishing touches on the new room. For one thing, they hadn’t cut a door between the cabin and the addition yet. Sally hadn’t seen the inside of it since the walls went up. The “boys” had climbed in and out one of the framed window holes until the first window was in place. Part of what Cam planned to do today was to set in the second casing, but he’d have to cut the doorway first, or he’d seal himself into the new room.
“Don’t know as I’ll have time to make a door today,” Cam said.
“We can hang a curtain until it’s done.” Sally could hardly wait to move into the new bedroom.
As soon as the men cleared out after breakfast, she did up the dishes and put on her bonnet. She took her purse from the shelf beside the bunk. Before going out, she paused to finger the ticking. It was the standard, striped cotton used for pillows and mattresses. Mark had said he would fill it with sweet hay for her when she had sewn up the shell. She smiled and headed outside.
Reckless was in harness, and Mark stood at his head, stroking the chestnut’s nose. He smiled when he saw Sally, and she smiled back. Things were getting better, even though she still didn’t feel really married. All in good time, she told herself.
“Is your arm all right?” she asked him after the first couple of miles.
“It’s fine.” Men could be stubborn, she knew, but she hoped he wouldn’t overdo it.
In Beaumont, he pulled up before the bank. “I reckon I’d better go in and get some cash.”
“They won’t give you credit at the mercantile?”
He frowned. “That’s just it. They’ve given me quite a bit, and I don’t like to keep stacking up bills.”
She nodded. Financial responsibility was a good trait in a man, one her first husband hadn’t known.
“Sally.” He almost looked old when he said it—at least, he looked a bit worried, frowning and serious.
“What is it?” she asked softly.
“I don’t know how it’s going to go this year with the cattle and all. And I don’t have all that much in the bank.”
“Then we’ll be frugal,” she said readily. Was he worried that she would overspend? She needed to put his mind at ease. “We can get by, I’m sure. And if you can’t increase the herd this year, then it will have to wait until next year. I’m used to living small, Mark.”
His lips twitched in an almost smile. “Sure.”
She glanced across the street. “Shall I go over and look at the merchandise while you’re at the bank?”
Mark hesitated and then nodded. “That’d be fine.”
He got down and gave her a hand as she climbed from the wagon.
“Now, don’t you be worrying.” Sally smiled and walked across to the mercantile. Before entering, she turned and looked back. She had known there was something between them, something holding them apart. Was it money, or the lack of it? Because she meant every word about that. She could eke out a living on next to nothing. She was glad he had brought up his concerns. But still, she wasn’t convinced that was the whole of it. There must be something else. She sighed and went into the store.
Johnny walked up to the teller’s cage, glad no one else was in line. The man he faced was the same one he had dealt with the day he withdrew money for the doctor and the preacher.
“Mr. Paynter,” the teller said with a smile.
Another man behind the divider looked up from his desk and shoved his chair back.
“Mr. Paynter.”
“Yes, sir?” Johnny peered through the grille at him. Did he know this man? More likely his brother did. His somber black suit, white shirt, and necktie bespoke prosperity and business. Johnny pegged him for the bank’s president, manager, or owner.
He walked over close to the teller and lowered his voice. “Just wanted to make sure you knew the payment came into your account from the stockyards in Fort Worth.”
“Oh,” Johnny said. “Thank you.”
The banker nodded. “I know springtime’s difficult sometimes, and you ranchers are always watching to make sure your payments come in on time.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man nodded and walked back to his desk.
The teller smiled again. “How much did you want to withdraw, sir?”
“Uh…” Johnny wondered how much was in there now. He’d better not be too optimistic. “How about fifty dollars?”
“That would be fine, sir. If you have your passbook, I’ll update that for you.”
“Sure.” Johnny had a hard time getting the bankbook out of his breast pocket with his left hand.
A moment later, the teller handed it back to him with fifty dollars in paper money.
“Thank you.” Johnny walked out of the bank and went to lean against the side of his wagon. He stuffed the money into his pocket and carefully opened the bankbook. Six hund
red and forty-two dollars, and that was after his withdrawal. His heart skipped a beat. No wonder Mark’s herd was so small. He’d sent a bunch of steers off to the stockyards this spring.
Good old Mark. Johnny could hardly believe it, but the bankers wouldn’t lie to him. There was someone else he ought to thank. He lifted his eyes skyward.
“Lord, I’m not sure You’re speaking to me,” he said softly, “but thank You. I don’t deserve this, and that’s certain. But Mark would have used it to build up the ranch and make a nice home for Sally. And that’s what I intend to do with it. I hope You’re not too mad at me.”
He put the bankbook in his shirt pocket and walked across the street. Sally could buy whatever she wanted now.
When he walked into the mercantile, she was gazing at bolts of cloth. He stood still for a moment, watching her. Her fingers caressed the fabric then she pressed her lips together and moved on to the groceries. Johnny walked up behind her.
“Howdy. Finding what you need?”
She whirled around, her cheeks tinged with pink. “Oh, hello. I found the laundry soap already, and I thought I’d see what they have for spices. Mr. Minnick said he could help me anytime.”
“Good. And I thought you might need a couple yards of cloth for a door curtain, if Cam and I don’t get the door made right away.”
“That’s good thinking.” Sally looked back toward the display of material.
“How about you get some extra,” Johnny said. “Would you like a dress length?”
“Oh, I don’t need that, Mark.” Her hand fluttered at her throat.
“It’s all right.” Besides her mourning dress and the green one she’d been married in, he had only seen her wear one calico dress. He wasn’t sure whether she had more or not, but she was a seamstress. Surely some new fabric to work with would please her. He leaned toward her and whispered, “I got paid for some cattle I sold. You can buy out the store if you want.”
He pulled back and was pleased to see the surprise on her face. “Is it those cattle you sent to market last month? You told me about driving them to the railway.”
The Outlaw Takes a Bride Page 12