It was safety for her heart—safety that included a man. And after all she’d seen, she never expected to feel that again. She couldn’t explain it; she just knew it felt wonderful.
He broke the kiss and looked down at her, somberly. He carried her to their room and sat her on the bed.
“You should get clean clothes on,” he said.
“I’m too tired to do anything but fall asleep.” A troublesome thought hit her as she looked at her wretched, stained woolen underwear. Her dress couldn’t be in any better shape. “I don’t have any clothes.”
“Ma’s good with a needle. She saw what happened to your dress and said she’d find something of her own and make it fit. And we bought fabric, so you can make yourself a new dress as soon as you feel able.” Kneeling before her, he unlaced her boots and slid them off, then helped her lie back and settle in. “She said a lot of those bundles we hauled out here are full of wedding gifts for us.”
“That’s sweet of her.” Bailey needed to at least give Ma a chance to be more than the weepy woman who embarrassed her son. As for clothes, Ma Coulter was about the size of two of Bailey, though they were close in height. Bailey would look foolish, but then she wasn’t going to look all that good in tattered long johns, either. They’d figure something out.
He covered her to her chin, then rounded the bed and got in beside her. He turned on his side and raised himself on one elbow to look down at her.
“Good night, Mrs. Coulter.” He brushed her hair back. “So far I’m thinking being married to you is a fine idea indeed.” He kissed her again, then rolled onto his back.
For some reason, that bit of kindness helped her forget all her aches and pains. She took Gage’s tenderness and his kiss with her into sweet dreams.
19
Ma fussed over Bailey owning only one dress, but she immediately took charge of the situation. She took charge so thoroughly it made Bailey nervous.
If Bailey wasn’t careful, Ma would take over everything, and Bailey was too weak from her injuries and blood loss to do much about it.
Ma’s help was a relief, but it was also humiliating because her dresses were frilly with ribbons and lace. Something had to be done, yet every time Bailey sat up she got light-headed. Sewing was beyond her.
Bailey had barely stirred all morning. Ma brought her breakfast and helped her sit up to eat it. Then Gage had come in and helped her out to the privy again.
“Why don’t you have more than one dress?” Ma asked as she came in the bedroom carrying a dark purple dress weighed down with flounces. Gage was just done pulling the covers up.
“It was the trail, Ma.” Gage had that pouting tone Bailey didn’t like. “Last fall the winter landed hard on us right after we got married, and we couldn’t get back to pick up more clothes for her.”
Ma shooed Gage from the room, pulled a chair up and settled in, needle in hand. “Now, dear, tell me about yourself.”
Bailey had no idea what to say. She stuck to the truth, in case of a faulty memory.
Whatever oddities were in Ma’s character, she was a fine seamstress and had the dress pared down to size before an hour had passed.
“Let’s get you out of those dreadful woolens. Goodness what woman would even wear such things?”
“I reckon it makes more sense to someone who doesn’t live in the Texas heat.”
With Ma’s help she shed them and saw for the first time her real condition. Beneath her clothes she had three bandages. One thick pad at the top of her arm. A bandage wrapped several times around her middle, with blood seeping through at her waist. A third on her hand. She never saw that spiked trap in the dark woods, but she sure felt it. She could imagine falling on it, poking herself in just these places. She was lucky she hadn’t had a spike stab her in the face, put an eye out.
Ma washed Bailey, and it made her cringe to be handled like a child. But she endured it and felt so much better with all the blood washed away. The wounds were bandaged again with strips of clean cloth. Ma took a few nips in the waist to a chemise of her own and slipped it over Bailey’s head. It hung loose, but Bailey didn’t think it mattered since it wouldn’t show. It was cold, though.
“Women have to wear woolen underwear in the mountains, Ma.” At least Bailey hoped they did, and how would Ma know? “It’s just too cold out here. We have learned to be sensible.”
Ma gave Bailey a long look, then nodded, which might mean Ma would see to figuring out warmer underclothes. She helped Bailey don the purple dress and then started to fuss with Bailey’s hair.
It was so unusual to take time over her appearance. Bailey wanted to swat the woman’s hands away. Instead, lucky to have the excuse of exhaustion and pain, she sat quietly and allowed Ma to comb her cap of blond curls and tie a purple ribbon in it.
She endured it by daydreaming about whether Gage would let her help around the ranch. She liked breaking wild mustangs a lot more than she liked sitting still to get her hair combed. And she couldn’t see herself busting broncs in a dress.
“Well, not much can be done with such short hair, but you’re as presentable as I can make you.” Ma sounded cheerful, except her words cut just a bit. Bailey had a feeling that was Ma’s exact intent.
“Let’s move to the kitchen. We can visit while I set the kitchen to rights and get a meal on.” Taking over. Gage had said his ma liked to be in charge. If she had more energy, Bailey would insist Ma sit down while she ran her own household, but when Bailey stood, even leaning heavily on Ma, her head wasn’t steady and her vision darkened. They barely made it to the kitchen, where Bailey sank heavily onto a chair. Not much chance Bailey was going to take over anything.
Bailey was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and eating bread and cheese while Ma got a meal, when the back door banged open.
Gage stormed in muttering furiously under his breath. He slammed the door so hard, plates rattled in the cupboard.
“Gage, for heaven’s sake,” Ma said.
Gage skidded to a stop, looked at Ma, and flinched. He swiveled to look at Bailey. “Uh . . . sorry. I forgot you two were here.”
Ma clutched her throat and in a wobbly voice said, “You mean you forgot your mother came to see you for the first time in five years?”
That drew his eyes back to Ma. Unlike her, Bailey was tempted to laugh at the dumbfounded look on Gage’s face. She couldn’t resist adding dryly, “And that you have a wife?”
He’d been staring at his ma, but when Bailey spoke, his eyes lost their wide-eyed surprise and became sharply focused—on her. He blinked and looked Bailey up and down . . . and up. Then he walked into the cupboard.
“Doesn’t Bailey look lovely in my dress, son?” Ma started fluttering her hands nervously.
Ma hadn’t been like this when the two of them were alone. She had a bit of a critical way about her, but she’d worked hard. Bailey didn’t like the way Ma took over, but Bailey just plain wasn’t up to it.
Now with Gage here, Ma was a different woman.
“She looks real pretty.” Gage didn’t even look at his mother. “Real, real pretty.” He smiled in a way that made her remember his kiss from last night. Remember it fondly.
Bailey’s cheeks heated up in what had to be a blush. She hadn’t blushed in years. Maybe never. What was happening to her? If she wasn’t so battered, she’d go brand a steer just to remind herself of who she was.
It was time to distract Gage from staring. “What made you come storming in here madder than a rabid polecat?”
Gage’s warm eyes turned to ice. “My men are just back from the trail. They couldn’t pick up any tracks—the snow’s too deep—but they sure enough found the trap set for us.”
Gage yanked his gloves off his hands. “You’re lucky to be alive, Bailey.”
“Don’t forget I want a chance to study that trap and examine any tracks you find. You never know what might be familiar. Everyone you trust should examine it.”
Gage didn’t respond to that
. Instead, walking over to her, he touched her neck with one finger.
Bailey felt a raw spot she hadn’t noticed before. “I’ve got a cut there, too?” She touched her neck, his warm fingers intertwining with hers.
“You could have died, Bailey.” He quit touching her where it was sore and ran a finger around to the front of her neck along the ruffled collar of her silly purple dress.
Except the way Gage was looking at her didn’t make her feel so silly.
“It’s not serious.” She found herself wanting to ease his upset.
“I know. It didn’t even bleed.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But it was so close.”
He was silent for a long moment.
“The only reason I didn’t get stabbed was my horse threw me over its head. And my stallion . . .” He closed his eyes and nearly growled when he said, “You knew he was bleeding on his side, and I found that cut on his leg, but he’s also got a wound on his flank. And there are two ugly gouges in his saddle or he’d be a lot worse. He’s got some healing to do.”
“Maybe I can get to know him while we’re both mending.” Bailey smiled to lighten his mood.
His fury eased into grim resolve. “I’m going to find out who did this, and I’m going to stop them. They’re not going to hurt my wife and get away with it. What’s worse, it’s a sloppy way to try and kill someone. It amounts to vicious mischief. They’re only trying to cause harm, like they’re taking pleasure in hurting me and my men, and for no purpose.”
Bailey knew he was wrong. “If I hadn’t been with you, Gage, it could have been a lot worse than mischief. They had no way of knowing you’d have company riding home. In fact, they expected you to be alone.”
Gage’s eyes narrowed, and she saw he’d already thought of that.
“There was someone in those woods, Gage. Someone lying in wait, expecting they’d kill you with the trap, and if that failed, they’d finish it and make it look like an accident.”
His hands fisted. “Like a landslide looks like an accident.”
“Right.” Bailey’s eyes shifted to Ma. Last night they’d planned to protect her from this kind of worry. Gage was upset enough, he wasn’t thinking of that, and it wouldn’t hurt Ma to know the truth.
“That day of the landslide was the first time I wasn’t up there ahead of my men. And Rowdy only survived because Ike pushed him. Normally I’d have been up there alone. If whoever set that trip wire was watching before he set the trap, he’d have figured me to be the one to set off the avalanche. I’d have been right in the path of those boulders and with no help close by.”
“What avalanche, Gage?” Ma rushed to him and grabbed his arm. “Someone is trying to kill you?”
Gage, facing Bailey, went wide-eyed. He’d forgotten to speak carefully around her. Bailey saw the effort he made to reply calmly.
“Ma . . .” He turned and pried her hand off his arm. Not that easy because she seemed to have sunk her fingernails in. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. It was clear last fall. Yes, someone has been up to no good, but we’re ready for trouble now. My men are always on guard. I’m doubling the posted sentries, and I’ve got my best men scouting, watching for intruders. The snow is covering the tracks but not erasing them. When it melts we’ll find the trail the coyote left and put a stop to this.”
“But he could strike anytime. Shoot you in the back.”
“Not now that I’m on guard against it.” He sounded so sure, Bailey almost believed it. Except she didn’t.
“Whoever did this won’t get within ten miles of us without being spotted.”
Bailey thought of the endless miles of forest and how someone could slip around, get off the trail, and sneak in without being seen. She knew Gage was plenty worried, but he wasn’t going to let his ma know it.
He had to watch his words, and she suspected Gage was a man who hadn’t done that much. He said what he meant and did what he said he’d do. He was a man used to straight talk, with little regard for what people thought of him. It was a trait Bailey possessed, and it suited her. She liked honesty, maybe more because she’d spent years living a lie.
So it wasn’t going to be easy remembering to mind her words to protect Ma’s feelings.
“But, Gage—”
“Ma, did you say you had some food? I’m starving.”
Ma looked nervously from Gage to Bailey, not satisfied with the change of subject. But her cheeks had pinked up, and her expression lightened when Gage asked her for food. It was clear she was delighted at the thought of feeding her son.
“Yes, I made a meal for you. It’s such a pleasure to cook for my boy again.”
Flinching at the word boy, Gage turned from his mother to Bailey and asked, “Are you ready to eat?”
Gage looked at her, sitting at the table as if she were always ready to eat. He didn’t notice his mother’s slumped shoulders as he paid attention to his wife. Bailey wasn’t sure what was upsetting the woman. Gage had hoped being married would make her see he was getting along fine. Was that it? Did Ma for some reason want Gage to be struggling? Did she think it would prove he missed her and needed her?
Bailey could see Ma’s hurt and tried to cheer her up. “Ma has been taking good care of me. I slept through breakfast, and she got a dress ready for me—one of her own. Then she got me a bite to eat, but I’m hungry enough the stew would be welcome and it smells delicious. Thanks for cooking, Ma. I wasn’t close to having the gumption to prepare a meal today.”
“Go ahead and wash, Gage,” Ma said. “Then come and sit up to the table. I’d love to serve you both.”
“No, Ma. You’re not serving me. You’re a guest in this house. Bailey needs to take things slow for a few days, and your help is greatly appreciated, but I’ve been running this house as a bachelor for five years. I can set plates out and lift the heavy stewpot.”
“Now, Gage . . .”
Gage pulled her into a long hug. He let her go and smiled, and she practically glowed with the pleasure of being so close to him. “Let’s work together. How does that sound?”
Ma was silent awhile. Bailey thought she was probably stirring around to protest, but Gage’s kindness was too much for her. “I think that sounds fine.”
Bailey felt like a slug for not helping, but she just barely could sit upright at the table, so there was no use trying to do more.
Ma had baked biscuits to go with the stew, and there was milk. For dessert she made an apple cobbler with apples she’d packed in from Texas. Apparently there was food in some of those bundles of hers.
As Gage and Ma took turns putting savory food in front of her, Bailey tried to remember anyone treating her like this in the past. She was determined to put a stop to it the first second she was able, of course, but in the meantime she decided to enjoy it. It was so much different from what she expected from any man.
Pa was the worst of the bunch.
20
The front door slammed open. It was behind her as she sat at the table, and Bailey clawed for her gun. It wasn’t there.
She stood and turned to fight . . . and waves of dizziness swept over her and she almost fell. Gage rushed around the table, his broad shoulders blocking her view as he stood between her and danger. He didn’t catch her, but he was handy to grab hold of.
Blood left her head, her vision narrowed, and her temples gave a sickening throb. She held tight to Gage’s waist to keep from pitching face-first to the floor.
“You got married?” The roar of anger told her no gun was necessary. That was a relief, but something to plug her ears might be good.
“Hi, Pa.” She steadied herself and let her head clear, then leaned to look around Gage.
Shaking her head in disgust, she ducked behind Gage again and stretched to whisper in his ear, “Your ma is a dream compared to my pa.”
Gage grunted and crossed his arms, though the rigid set of his shoulders eased some. “Come to congratulate us, Wilde?”
Bailey stepped up to Ga
ge’s side, mindful of what Pa might say to give away the wedding date. Pa stormed straight for her, his eyes bulging, his face red with fury. Honestly, Bailey wasn’t sure if it was red with fury. He was always red-faced, but he was always furious, too. Pa had grown a beard over the winter. He’d lost weight. He was more stooped and gray-haired than she remembered. His clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed in months, and he got close enough for her to notice he smelled none too good, either. The winter hadn’t been kind to Cudgel Wilde.
“You betrayed me.” He shook a fist so close to her nose, he almost punched her.
Like a striking snake, Gage’s hand shot out and grabbed Pa’s arm.
Pa wasn’t one to hit. All his damage came from his yelling. But Gage didn’t know that. Bailey had her arm along Gage’s waist, mainly to keep herself steady, but she patted him on the back, hoping to head off a fistfight. Pa wasn’t worth that.
“Gage and I fell in love, Pa.”
She said it with such confidence, Gage glanced down at her. She smiled. He arched one dark brow, then smiled back and let go of Pa’s arm.
“I had to follow my heart.” She sounded as perky as the injuries that were gnawing at her would allow.
Gage slid his hand along her waist, careful not to touch any wounds. “Yep, Cudgel, I’m a mighty lucky man. You brought three beautiful women into this country, and I married the pick of the litter.”
Bailey pinched his back, but she didn’t put much force behind it. “Sorry about that dynasty you wanted to build to honor Jimmy.” Bailey remembered more about Jimmy than her little sisters because she’d worked more closely with him. Jimmy had been no great hero. He was cut from the same cloth as Pa.
“How’d you get here, Wilde?”
“That’s a good question, Pa.” Bailey realized it was a really good question. “The pass between my place and yours can’t be open yet.”
“I got a different way out.” Pa didn’t elaborate, but Bailey knew the trail to Pa’s. Although truth be told, she’d only been there a couple of times, when they first moved here and were scouting homesteads. And she’d never seen a way around one gap that snowed in deep.
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