The Scoundrel's Bride

by Geralyn Dawson

  She turned to Zach and said, “It’s wonderful.”

  He nodded. “I’ve never stayed here myself, but a friend of mine highly recommended it.”

  “Mr. Tanner? Isn’t he the man you’re supposed to meet here?”

  “Yes. He’s not due to arrive for another few days, but that’ll suit our plans just fine. Give us time for a little honeymoon once we locate a preacher.” Saddle leather creaked as he dismounted.

  Heat from a blush crept up Morality’s face. Zach noticed and quirked an amused brow above twinkling blue eyes as he assisted her to the ground.

  A boy came to greet them. “Howdy, folks. Welcome to Gallagher’s. I’m John Kincaid, and this is my uncle Dan’s place.”

  Zach didn’t take his eyes off Morality. “Is your Uncle Dan a preacher by any chance?”

  “Preacher? Uncle Dan? For land’s sake, no. That’d plumb break the hearts of the ladies in a three-county area. ‘Sides, Uncle Dan’s too wicked to be a preacher.”

  A man about Zach’s age walked onto the porch and spoke in a good-natured, Irish-accented scold. “And ‘tis not the wicked child who repeats such foolishness of the grand man a-puttin’ food in his belly and a roof above his head?”

  “Just for another week,” the boy shot back, his golden eyes gleaming the same color as his hair. “Then my ma and pa will be by to take me home, and you’ll be lonesome as a painted lady in church.”

  The older man gave a sudden smile. “That I will, boyo, that I will.” He turned to his guests. “I’m Daniel Gallagher. Welcome to my inn.”

  Morality took only a vague notice of Daniel Gallagher’s crippled right hand. She was struck dumb by the brilliance of the man’s smile. Up till now, Zach had been the most handsome man Morality had ever seen. She turned her head looking from Mr. Gallagher to Zach, and back to Mr. Gallagher again.

  Her betrothed couldn’t hold a candle next to Mr. Gallagher. If the term “beautiful” could be applied to a man, then Mr. Gallagher was it. He had rich, auburn-colored hair and classical features of the sort she had seen in the oil paintings hanging in the homes of Reverend Uncle’s wealthier supporters. He had a smile she felt clear to her toes. Yes, the man was beautiful.

  She felt a nudge on her leg and ignored it, then suddenly she was being pulled from the saddle. Her eyes widened with surprise as she gazed up into Zach’s gruff expression. “Best shut your mouth, angel, or you’ll go to catching flies.” He set her on her feet and gave her a disciplinary glare.

  To Gallagher, he said, “My name’s Burkett, the lady is my wife—or will be just as soon as we can find a preacher.”

  “Ah, ‘tis a runaway wedding we be having?” Mr. Gallagher’s eyes twinkled in amusement even as Zach’s grew stormy. The innkeeper made his way down the steps and approached them. “Congratulations, Miss…”

  “Brown,” she breathed, as he lifted her hand to his lips for a gallant kiss.

  “You know, innkeeper,” Zach drawled. “I learned long ago that an overly polite man often harbors some mighty impolite ideas. I suggest you keep your hands off my woman.”

  “Zach!” Morality flushed from embarrassment.

  “Don’t worry about Uncle Dan, Mr. Burkett. He acts that way to all the ladies—even if they’re not purdy as a polished pearl like Miss Brown. Why, you should’ve seen him this one time. This old woman had more wrinkles on her than a—”

  “Johnny, I do believe that for the next week, at least, part of your job is to tend to our guests’ horses,” Gallagher interrupted, all traces of brogue having vanished. “See to it.”

  Zach offered Morality a significant look. “The man is a liar.”

  “Holy saints in Heaven above, never be accusing me of such. ‘Tis not lies I be telling, but a touch of the blarney I learned at me dear da’s knee.”

  Morality couldn’t help but laugh. “Mr. Gallagher, blarney or no, what I am most interested in right now are your accommodations. Does your inn offer bathing facilities?”

  “For you, Miss Brown, anything.” He looked at Zach. “Please come inside, and I’ll show you to your …” He paused, lifting his brow inquisitively as he finished, “Rooms?”

  “Room.”

  “Zach!”

  He looked at Gallagher. “Any way to get a preacher here today?”

  “I suppose my nephew could ride into town and ask. It would be evening before they could possibly return.”

  “Do it.”

  In the process of leading the horses away, John Kincaid paused and said, “Y’all should marry like my folks did, by bond. It’s how they used to do it years and years ago when there weren’t many ministers in Texas. All you have to do is sign a paper sayin’ you’ll hitch up when a preacher comes around.”

  Morality sniffed. “I don’t like the sound of that at all. God must bless the union between a man and wife.” She gave Zach a sidelong look and added, “Besides, I’ve been acquainted with men of such questionable moral character that they might back out of such a commitment.”

  Johnny Kincaid chortled. “That’s exactly what my pa did! My mama crows about it when she’s needling him. ‘Course, they did eventually see a preacher, but the in-between times makes quite a story. You gotta understand my folks. The first time they met, she slapped him with a pair of dead squirrels.”

  “I do believe I’d like to meet this woman,” Morality observed.

  Daniel Gallagher chuckled. “Katie does tend to get her Irish up. You should have seen her–”

  “What kind of inn are you running, Gallagher?” Zach interrupted. “At the rate you’re going it’ll be summer before my lady gets her bath.” He turned to the boy. “You can count on a nice bonus if you get the churchman here by dark.”

  Morality scolded Zach for his rudeness as he carried their saddlebags up to their room, although a wicked part of her had been pleased by the way he’d reacted to Mr. Gallagher’s attentions. By the time the bathwater arrived, she was so sleepy she could hardly keep her eyes open.

  Zach looked from the tub to her and back to the tub again. “You know, I heard one time about a fella who fell asleep in his bathtub and drowned. Maybe I should stay up here while you’re bathing, just in case you need rescuing.”

  Morality shoved him toward the door saying, “What a selfless offer, Burkett, but I don’t think you’ll be needed.”

  He wiggled his brows wolfishly. “Saving that till after the wedding, huh?”

  “Go.” Smiling, she shut the door behind him, then walked toward the tub, her fingers working the buttons on her bodice. An unexpected creak made her jump and she whirled around to see Zach poke his head in the room.

  “Just wanted to tell you to check my saddlebags. There’s a package in there you might want to see to. You’ll have it for this evening.”

  Before she could rail at him he was gone.

  The large leather bags hung around the bedpost. Morality stared at them, both curious and hesitant at the same time. She licked her dry lips then reached for the buckle.

  Wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, the parcel was thick and soft. Slowly, she tugged the end of the string. The paper made a ripping noise when she tore one end.

  She gasped. Emerald-green silk.

  With painstaking care, she unwrapped the bundle. Emerald-green silk with gold embroidery. And tiny pearl buttons.

  Morality clutched the gown to her chest. “Oh, Zach.”

  Her tears were those of joy.

  ZACH TOOK a sip of his glass of whiskey and decided he liked the proprietor of the inn—as long as the man stayed away from Morality. Over the course of the afternoon Gallagher had proven himself both witty and knowledgeable on a wide range of topics. The brogue was something he turned on and off at will, used mostly when he teased Mrs. Payne, an older woman who lived at the inn, or when he spoke to the stage passengers that had stopped at Gallagher’s for a meal and a rest shortly after noon.

  He told a few stories about the time he’d lived with Cherokee Indians and of the
years he’d spent as a ranch foreman at the Double K ranch out north of Dallas. His sister, Katie—the squirrel-slinger—owned the ranch with her husband, Branch, and their passel of children, one of whom had been on loan to his uncle Dan since Christmas.

  “Johnny’s a good boy,” Gallagher said. “He and his daddy are too much alike, and that’s what is causing the friction between them. Katie thought a little time apart might be good for them, help Branch see that his oldest is quickly becoming a man. Then too he was getting a tad too close to a girl from a nearby ranch.”

  “So his parents sent him to you?” Zach asked drolly. “Why, weren’t his methods good enough? Needed to learn seduction at the knees of a master?”

  Gallagher’s green eyes twinkled as he shrugged and said, “And what would ye have me do, deny me God-given talents?”

  “Just keep your talents away from my woman.”

  “ ’Tis a difficult proposition, to be sure.” Then, sincerely, he added, “Your Miss Brown is a beautiful woman.”

  Zach lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to beautiful women and fast horses.”

  “Fast horses?”

  “Fast, preacher-totin’ horses.”

  Gallagher lifted his glass and nodded solemnly. “Beautiful women, fast preacher-totin’ horses, and Irish whiskey.”

  Zach stared through the ripple-paned window toward the cozy two-room cabin standing a few hundred yards from the inn. “And honeymoon cottages.”

  The innkeeper followed the path of his gaze. “Fussing with these wedding doings has made Martha Payne happy as a colt in clover. She’s quite taken with your Morality.”

  “Yeah? Well, so am I.” Even as he said it, the truth of his statement sent a tremor of unease down his spine.

  MARTHA PAYNE brought new and dainty underpinnings to Morality’s room as she dressed for her wedding. The bride took one look at the delicate scraps of silk and lace and blushed as red as a radish.

  “Now I know what you’re thinking,” the elderly yet energetic woman said. “Ladies don’t wear lacy black unmentionables. But a dear friend advised me on this matter back before I married Mr. Payne, and I discovered that she was entirely right. Ever since, I’ve made it my practice to keep a supply on hand. I’ve probably given thirty sets to ladies like yourself over the years.” She smiled. “And a good many to older women like me, too. Trust me, dear. Your Mr. Burkett will think this is wonderful.”

  Morality held the garment out in front of her. “Martha, you can see right through this chemise!”

  Pale blue eyes twinkled behind wire-framed spectacles. “Isn’t it naughty?”

  “But—”

  “No.” Martha held up a hand. “You must hurry up, Morality dear, the preacher is downstairs waiting. As is your groom. I must say I thought he was handsome before, but all cleaned up he fairly takes this old woman’s breath away. Now, I must run check on the wedding cake, then I’ll be right back to help you button that beautiful green dress. You wear my gift too, you hear?”

  Morality nodded and did what she was told. She would not, however, look at her reflection in the mirror until she’d covered all that black with green silk. Finally ready, nervous and excited and more than a little afraid, she started downstairs to meet her groom.

  Coming from inside the long room that was the tavern section of the inn, Morality heard voices. Mr. Gallagher, Martha, and a laugh that sounded vaguely familiar, although she couldn’t place the name. She also heard a deep, resonant rumble. Zach. Taking a deep breath, she stepped to the doorway.

  What she saw made her face bleach white. Reverend Simpkins!

  ZACH LOOKED up to see a divinely beautiful, flame-haired angel dressed in green silk. With the complexion of a corpse.

  “Good Lord, Morality, what’s wrong?”

  “Miss Brown?” The reverend, a young man with the biggest set of ears Zach had seen this side of a jackass, stepped forward as if drawn automatically. “Why, Miss Brown, you’ve returned. I’m surprised…I didn’t think…” A beatific smile spread across his face. “How wonderful! Where is Reverend Harrison?”

  “Uh…I…ah,” Morality stuttered.

  Zach folded his arms, cocked his head, and stared at his bride. What the hell was going on here? “You know the reverend, angel?”

  “I…uh…ah.”

  The preacher nodded and looked at Zach. “We’re to be married.”

  “Come again?”

  “Well, I should say I have proposed marriage to Miss Brown, but her uncle refused my suit.” He took Morality’s hand. “He’s changed his mind? That’s why you’ve come back?”

  Zach narrowed his eyes and set his jaw, experiencing a surprising rush of possessiveness. He restrained himself, barely, from yanking Morality away from the reverend. A suitor? Good God, what next? He glared at his bride, silently demanding she exercise her tongue with an explanation.

  But Morality just stood there, her mouth working open, then closed, like a fish out of water. An angelfish.

  Suddenly, he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “What’s the deal, woman? Are you like a sailor with a woman in every port, only you’ve got a man in every pulpit?”

  She found enough wind to groan, “Zach!”

  He eyed the preacher. Skinny fellow, probably as strong as a sick kitten. And, judging by the conversation they’d shared upon his arrival, Reverend William Simpkins was chock full of godly qualities—piety, devotion, faithfulness. Just Morality’s type.

  He and the Bible man had nothing in common.

  Simpkins opened his mouth to speak as young Johnny pounded up the front porch steps, calling, “Wagon coming, Uncle Dan.”

  Zach shot the innkeeper a look. Gallagher, obviously quick on the uptake, groaned. “And isn’t it just my luck to be a-missin’ the most entertaining moment of the year. Come along, Martha. Help me welcome our guests.”

  “But the wedding!” Martha cried worriedly.

  Zach crossed the room, laying a possessive hand on his bride’s shoulder. “Will be slightly delayed. Don’t worry, Mrs. Payne, I promise we won’t start without you.”

  Martha Payne squeezed Morality’s arm and gave her a supportive nod as Daniel Gallagher escorted her from the room.

  Reverend Simpkins’s gaze never left Morality, but the hope had slowly faded from his eyes. “I think I understand. I was summoned to perform a wedding ceremony and I’ve already met the groom. Are you the bride, Morality?”

  “Oh, William.” Regret filled her voice and softened her eyes. She shrugged off Zach’s touch. “I’m sorry. I did wish to marry you. You’ll never know how much. If only things had been different.”

  “Well, that’s a helluva thing for a man to hear at his wedding,” Zach drawled. Both Morality and her minister ignored him.

  “I’ll admit to feeling the fool.” Simpkins watched her sadly, his hurt plainly visible. “My dear, it is but a few weeks since you and I parted company. If you were pledged to this gentleman, why did you encourage my suit? And why didn’t your uncle speak of your betrothal?”

  Morality shook her head. “Oh, William, you mustn’t think that. Why, I only met Mr. Burkett when the Church of the Word’s Healing Faith arrived in Cottonwood Creek.”

  He swayed backward. “Why, Morality. If that is true, how can you be marrying the man so quickly? The brevity of our acquaintance was one of the reasons Reverend Harrison refused my suit, and I courted you for two months!”

  Zach had about reached the limit of his patience. “Look here, Simpkins, no matter how it came about, you missed your chance with Morality. I didn’t. That’s all you really need to know. Let’s get on with the hitching, all right?”

  Simpkins snapped his teeth together and glared up at Zach, a surprisingly aggressive act for a preacher, not to mention the fact he was a good six inches shorter than the groom. “Sir. As a man of God it is my duty and my right to question the couples who come to me asking for the Lord’s blessing on a marriage. Until I have settled my doubts as
to the advisability of this union, I will not marry you, Mr. Burkett.”

  “Hell, preach,” Zach drawled sarcastically, “I don’t remember asking you. Besides, I’m already spoken for. I’m marrying Morality.”

  The reverend went red to the tips of his ears. Morality grimaced, rolling her eyes in disgust. She stepped between the two men, turned her back toward Zach, and spoke in a soothing tone to the sputtering minister. “William, please. This is a difficult situation for both of us. I appreciate your concern more than I can say. But believe me, it’s too late for second thoughts. I must marry Mr. Burkett, I have no choice. I have eloped.”

  Simpkins drew a horrified gasp. “My dear, tell me it isn’t true!”

  Morality hung her head and didn’t reply.

  Zach decided this nonsense had gone on long enough. He put his hands around Morality’s waist and yanked her back against him. “Time’s a-wastin’ folks. Let’s get down to business.”

  “But I have a duty!” the reverend protested.

  “Listen, preacher, upon my direction, Mrs. Payne has gone to great trouble to prepare a honeymoon cabin for me and my bride. No matter what you do or don’t do, Morality and I will definitely be sharing that bed down there tonight. Seems to me your ministerial duty would require you make certain there’s a knot been tied before the festivities. Doesn’t really matter to me, but for Morality’s sake, I reckon you should see to the marrying.”

  For a long moment, the only sound to be heard was the muted exchange of conversation between Daniel Gallagher and the newly arrived guests. Then, eyes full of frost, Reverend Simpkins nodded and said, “Very well. Take your places by the hearth, if you will.”

  As Simpkins opened his prayer book and thumbed through the pages, Zach, with a firm grip on Morality’s wrist, walked toward the tavern door and called up the stairs, “Mrs. Payne, Gallagher. We need witnesses.”

  In short order, all those present at Gallagher’s Tavern and Traveler’s Inn, including the most recent visitors, a family of twelve with children ranging in age from one to fourteen, gathered in the barroom to witness the marriage of Miss Morality Brown, Miracle Girl, and Zach Burkett, bastard.