Gravel crunched as Philo turned on his heel, grabbed Hildy’s hand and led her away toward the stables.
A commotion just then caught Mariah’s attention as well as that of the other family members. Three boys older than John James ran past along the concourse, chased by men dressed in the dark blue uniforms of the military police. They skirted Philo and Hildy and ran on.
“Why are the police chasing those boys?” John James asked in concern.
“They jumped the fence without paying,” Wes explained. “Several of them do it every day.”
“You gotta pay to get in here?” John James asked. “We din’t pay.”
“That’s because we have passes,” Wes explained patiently.
“Will the police put those boys in jail?”
“No, they’ll just take them to the gate and put them out.”
Wes had paused in the middle of their family drama to set her son at ease. Mariah covered her eyes with one hand to clear her head.
Her father laid a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She looked up at him. “Thank you.”
Wes sent John James to sit with Mary Violet and his cousin August, before approaching Friederick. “I could have handled that on my own, sir.”
“You could have,” Friederick replied. “But we’d have been hard-pressed to replace tables and glassware in time for tomorrow’s crowd.”
Wes acknowledged that prediction with a tilt of his head.
“You honor me and my daughter, and I honor you. That’s the way it works in this family.”
Wes swallowed as though holding emotions at bay. He kept his lips in a tight line and nodded silently.
As if he’d sensed her distress, Friederick reached to embrace Mariah. She closed her eyes and absorbed his quiet strength before he released her and moved away.
“Shall we go?” Wes asked.
Hesitant to meet his eyes now, she nodded.
He helped carry mugs and trays inside, and then went for the buggy while Mariah and John James waited in front of Mr. Baur’s place.
John James had experienced a full day, and he fell asleep leaning against Mariah’s shoulder. Wes paid a young fellow to take the horse and buggy to the livery so he could carry John James inside and up the hotel stairs.
Chapter Fourteen
Wes paused inside the door while she lit the gaslight on the wall. “Where do you want him?”
“I figured he’d sleep with me,” she said softly.
John James roused up, his eyes widening, and looked from Wes to his mother. “I want to sleep on the bed over there!”
“I thought you’d feel more comfortable with Mama beside you,” she cajoled. “This is a strange place.”
“No, I won’t. I’ll be more comfortable in my own bed.”
Her gaze skittered to Wes’s and away.
“I can stand here and hold him all night,” he said in a tone belying amusement.
“Since you’re awake, young man, let’s wash you up and get you changed.”
John James cheerfully disrobed behind the screen, washed his hands and face and let Mariah drop a nightshirt over his head. “It’s hot, Mama. Do I gotta wear this?”
He climbed onto the cot, and she pulled up the sheet. “If you’re too hot, you can take it off.”
He stripped off the nightshirt and pulled the sheet up to his waist. “’Night. I can’t wait to see everything tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
“Are you going to tuck me in, Papa?”
Wes stepped beside Mariah, leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Good night, little man.”
John James yawned and gave a sleepy grin. “I sure am glad you came home.”
Wes stood in silence for a moment. “This is where I want to be. Here with you.”
“Mama told me you would be with us if you could. And you sent me lots of letters.”
“Your mama is right. I always loved you.”
John James nodded solemnly. “And Mama, too. You always loved her, too, din’t you?”
Wes didn’t let his attention waver from John James’s face. “I always loved her, too,” he said.
Mariah retreated behind the screen, heat scorching her face and upper body. She unbuttoned her shirtwaist and stripped it off. After wringing out a cloth in the tepid water, she bathed her face, neck, arms, everywhere she could reach to ease her stinging discomfort. Her emotions had been reeling ever since this man had come into her life.
She’d gone from anger and resentment, through embarrassment and fear up to amazement and whatever it was she was feeling now. He’d quickly snared her feelings and turned them into attraction and regret and a hundred other conflicting emotions.
Part of her felt guilty about lying to John James. Wes hadn’t known either one of them existed; he hadn’t been missing them or loving them. But the other part of her—the part winning out—wanted it all to be true.
John James was so happy. He had something she’d never been able to give him.
She could be happy, too, if she didn’t have the truth hanging over her like a storm cloud threatening to burst. She brushed and braided her hair before stepping out from behind the screen in her cotton nightgown.
Wes sat perched on the edge of the bed, and his gaze shot to hers with a question.
She turned out the gaslight, plunging the room into darkness, and then folded down the covers on the opposite side of the bed. It was warm, as John James had pointed out, so she folded the blanket and coverlet to the bottom and pulled the sheet over herself.
Wes stretched out on top, keeping them separated only by the sheet. Already, John James’s breathing from the other side of the room was deep and even.
“I can go see if there’s another room available,” he whispered.
“There isn’t,” she whispered back. “Do you plan to sleep fully dressed?”
He sat back up and his boots made muted thuds on the carpeted floor. His clothing rustled as he removed his shirt and trousers.
She rolled away, but couldn’t ignore his scent or the inescapable awareness that he was lying inches away from her.
Behind her, his weight shifted, and when he spoke his whisper came from behind her head. “Your father said I was part of the family.”
“I heard him.”
“I feel like I’m letting him down,” he said. “Like I’m letting all of you down.”
“Why?”
“You know why, Mariah.”
She rolled to her back to find him only inches away. “You chose to do this,” she reminded him in a hushed voice. “I argued with you. I told you the lies were crushing me, but you pressed on with this.”
“I wouldn’t do anything differently,” he said. “But I can make some changes now. I can fix things. Make things right.”
Fear sliced through her chest. “What are you talking about? You can’t tell the truth. It would break too many hearts.”
“What if we make it the truth?”
“What do you mean?”
“Marry me, Mariah. Be my wife legally. In all ways. You care for me, I know you do.”
She sat straight up. The sliver of moonlight that poured through the gap in the drapes illuminated one side of his chiseled face, along with his well-defined shoulder and upper arm. Wife? The word and the idea eddied through her like a warm current. He wanted her for his wife in every sense?
She didn’t have a reply. Even if she married him and their marriage was true and legal, there was still one glaring secret between them. He’d already questioned her about John James’s parentage. He would want to know the truth.
“Don’t answer right now,” he said softly, urging her to lie back down with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I sprung the idea on you sudden-like. Take some time to think it over.” In the next second, he leaned over her and unerringly found her lips with his in the darkness.
Mariah instinctively reached for him, encountering his warm, smooth skin. She all
owed herself one tantalizing stroke of her palm across his shoulder before she raised her hand to his hair and threaded her fingers against his scalp.
With a soft groan, Wes deepened the kiss, and she met his plundering tongue with an eagerness that caught her by surprise. Her reactions to this man always caught her unaware. He made her crazy, but…she loved how he made her crazy. His scent, his voice, his kisses—he melted her inhibitions.
Somehow, without conscious thought, she wrapped her arm around his shoulder, and he drew her up flush against him. She enjoyed the warmth and firmness of his chest and arms, gloried in the delightfully arousing manner in which he kissed her.
“You’re so soft and sweet,” he said against her lips. “I could kiss you all night.”
“I like the way you kiss me,” she admitted. It was easy to confess her pleasure in the darkness.
He eased his weight over her, pressing her against the soft mattress. Her body responded with a rush of heat and a clamoring of her senses, but her head dredged up a feeling of panic and dread. In a fearful betrayal, her heart hammered painfully against her ribs, and she couldn’t breathe. She told herself she had nothing to fear from him, but couldn’t reason with the alarm that had overcome her. Mariah pushed against his chest. “I didn’t ask for this.”
Wes immediately eased away and released her. “You’re right. You didn’t. I’m sorry.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from him, while her breathing returned to normal.
“I’m sorry, Mariah. I didn’t mean to frighten you or make you mad.”
“I’m not afraid. And I’m not mad. It’s okay. Really.” She turned and made out his form in the darkness. A year ago or even six months ago, she would never have imagined she’d be considering getting married. A man was not part of her life agenda.
But this man…this one had managed to melt away her resistance and trim the thorns that had always protected her. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was afraid of herself—and her reaction to him. She was terrified she might be incapable of truly loving him—that she might never be able to give herself to him.
“John James is right here, we wouldn’t have…”
“I know.” Her hesitation was becoming less and less about feeling trapped and more and more about feeling robbed. Robbed of the life she could have had. Robbed of everything she wanted and needed. Right now she wanted Wes. “Will you hold me?”
Wes wanted nothing more than to hold her, and he understood she needed comfort, not passion. He would show her he could provide what she needed. If it killed him, he’d prove his trustworthiness to her.
He took her in his arms and drew her back with him against the comfortable mattress and the fresh-smelling sheets. He’d quickly grown accustomed to sharing her life and family. Even here, away from Ruby Creek, her life had ease and order.
Her soft, fragrant hair was cool against his chest, her breath a welcome warmth on his skin. She lay with her hands curled protectively against her chest. He reached for one and stroked until her fingers relaxed against his rib cage.
Wes thought of all the nights he’d spent on board a ship filled with sweaty men, nights sharing a tent in a gold camp, nights alone under the stars with only the heavens and his dogs for company. He wondered how he’d come to this place and this time. Of all the places in the world—or even cities on this continent—and all the people he might’ve met, he’d received a mailbox full of letters from a little boy who needed a father.
He could’ve tossed them in the waste bin or the stove…but he hadn’t. He’d read them and afterward everything had changed. And he’d traveled from the land he’d known to a place he’d never been to find this woman.
Fortune had smiled upon him.
The three of them enjoyed the exhibits in the pavilion the following day. Wes couldn’t resist touching Mariah at every opportunity. A brush of hands here, his palm to the small of her back there. And each time, awareness flushed her cheeks and brought a twinkle to her blue eyes.
There were indeed fruit and flower displays. Wes plucked a lovely bloom he couldn’t begin to identify and tucked it in Mariah’s hair above her ear. The three of them sampled oranges and figs and dates. Mariah especially loved the toasted almonds, so Wes bought her a bag.
John James enjoyed display cases filled with coins from around the world. Wes purchased a drawstring bag of marbles from a glass blower, and they paused while John James took the pretty glass balls out and examined them. Wes assured the boy he’d show him how to play a game with them when they got home.
The child’s face grew serious with concern. “Probably Yuri is missing you, and Felix misses me.”
“The dogs might miss us, but they’re doing fine.” Wes gave him a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. “Yuri is likely teaching Felix how to catch rabbits right this minute.”
By late afternoon, they headed to the hotel to bathe and rest an hour before supper. After they’d eaten, they dropped John James off with Faye and her children, and Mariah went upstairs to change for the evening.
Wes waited for her in the hotel lobby. It would only take him a few minutes to change into a suit once she’d finished dressing. He visited with family members who stopped by and later met a fellow from Illinois and another from Maryland. Mariah would have been pleased at how he spoke of the brewery and invited them to visit their building.
When at last Mariah appeared, the sight of her took his breath away. She’d donned an ivory-colored dress with a neckline that dipped low, showing off her collarbone and an enticing shadow of cleavage. She’d obviously had help with her hair, which hung in a cluster of shiny fair curls from the crown of her head to her shoulders.
“You’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he told her in all sincerity.
She blushed.
“I’ll change and be right back.”
The room smelled like her floral perfume. He changed quickly and joined her, where she stood with Hildy and Philo. “Did you get a buggy?” Mariah asked him.
“I paid a driver to take us. Afterward, we can catch a ride with someone else or get a buggy from the stable.”
Philo ushered Hildy up into the carriage ahead of Mariah, so Wes stood back. “Go ahead,” he said to Philo, and the man got in and sat beside his wife.
Mariah told Hildy how much John James had enjoyed the exhibits that day.
“I was surprised you didn’t ask Hildy to take him,” Philo said gruffly. “She watches the kid all the rest of the time.”
“Only after school, before Mariah gets home from work,” Hildy reminded him. “I’m there with Aunt Henny anyway.”
Mariah cast a look of disgust toward Philo. This outing had been a mistake. The man made her skin crawl. “If I believed it was a hardship, I wouldn’t ask Hildy to look after John James.”
“Of course she tells you she doesn’t mind. She’s not going to argue with the old man’s little darling.”
Where his jealousy stemmed from, Mariah had no idea, but she refused to defend herself or argue with him.
“Don’t spoil our evening,” Hildy said in a cajoling tone.
Mariah would never have agreed to attend this event with the other couple if she hadn’t believed it was what her cousin desired. The less time around Philo, the better.
The carriage pulled up before a huge building on the concourse. Philo got out first and reached back for Hildy. He practically yanked her from her seat to the pavement.
Mariah cringed inwardly, but turned away to hide her reaction from Wes.
Wes must have seen either the interaction with Philo and Hildy or Mariah’s reaction, because he gave her a questioning look. Ignoring the rude man, Mariah took Wes’s arm and started forward.
The theater Wells Fargo had sponsored was a lavishly constructed building with ornamental lighting, plush carpets and swags of draperies across doorways, balconies and the stage. Obviously no expense had been spared.
After a man in a uniform and cap took
their tickets, they approached the double doors leading into the theater. Young ladies dressed identically in yellow tulle dresses with frilly collars handed out programs and souvenir coins.
Mariah glanced at her coin. The face held a tiny engraving of a coach and running horses. The back commemorated the Exhibition with the year stamped into the metal.
“John James will love this.” Mariah tucked hers into her tiny handbag.
Wes handed his to her, as did Hildy.
Philo dropped his into his pocket.
Their seats were in a balcony that hung over the lower level and made it seem as though they were suspended above the rest of the audience. Their location afforded a magnificent view of the play as it unfolded.
Mariah had been to the theater during her stay in Chicago, but none of the others, including Wes, had ever enjoyed a similar experience.
During the intermission, actors and actresses in full costume and makeup visited the patrons in the balconies. “Thank you for coming this evening,” a tall fellow who played the part of the governor said to Mariah and Wes.
The next young woman breezed in wearing a bright lavender gown. She stopped in her tracks. “Mariah?”
Mariah studied her, taken aback by the woman’s notice. “Yes?”
“Lettie Cox,” she said, stepping closer. “You probably don’t recognize me as the shopgirl with all this makeup and the wig, but it’s me. We knew each other in Chicago.”
Mariah recognized her name, and Lettie’s features became clear. She’d been one of the other young women in the home where Mariah had stayed when she’d been waiting for John James’s birth. Lettie had been expecting a baby, as well. A shiver of unease eddied up Mariah’s spine. Lettie knew more about her secret stay than her family—or Wes.
Her worry proved unfounded with Lettie’s next words. “You probably never expected to see your old school chum in a getup like this.” She laughed. “It looks as though you’ve done better for yourself than I have. I’m a vagabond without a home or a husband, and you…” She turned to Wes and extended a gloved hand. “You’ve obviously done quite well for yourself.”
Her Colorado Man Page 13