Most Unsuitable Husband

by Clemmons, Caroline

  “Yes, Ma’am,” they said in unison before they turned back. Both boys’ shoulders shook with muffled giggles.

  Sarah looked at Nate and rolled those beautiful lavender blue eyes. An angel in a dark blue dress made of some kind of rustling silky fabric, her hair hung in ringlets on one side beneath her hat. Sunlight from the window over the altar caught her curls and turned them to molten gold on her shoulder. He ached to touch her, hold her in his embrace. Seeking to derail the track of his lustful thoughts, he concentrated on the other people in the sanctuary.

  “Guess I know most of the folks here,” he whispered to her, shocked as he spoke the truth. Never hung around to know folks who went to church, but now he knew most of this bunch.

  “Yes, and they all know how you and Gabe rescued Joe, and about your injuries.” She turned to smile at someone behind them and turned back around. “Your friend Mr. Hargrove just came in. Shall we ask him to sit with us?”

  Anger shot through Nate. “No, and he’s not a friend, just a business acquaintance.”

  “Your friend Mr. Masterson isn’t with him.”

  “Mon-Michael’s Catholic.” Nate refused to look at Hargrove. The nerve of that weasel. His only purpose could be using church contacts to squeeze a few more dollars out of the townspeople. Which is what you planned the first time you came here, he reminded himself.

  He refused to believe he was ever as bad as Hargrove. For one thing, he’d never in his life hit a woman. For another, if he had children he’d never deny them money for food and clothes.

  Face it. You’re as bad as he is in other ways. You’re either a cheat or you’re not, and you’ve cheated for years.

  After church they filed out, and Nate received more good wishes. People went out of the way to shake his hand. They admired him, looked up to him. It felt good, damn' good.

  Never before had he realized the importance of fitting in, being a part of a community. If only it could last. Unless he could outsmart Hargrove, these folks would soon be cursing him.

  As if on cue, Hargrove stopped him. “Well, good to see you walking so well, Barton.” He nodded at Sarah. “Lovely service, wasn’t it, Miss Kincaid?”

  “Yes. Excuse me, Mr. Hargrove, I need to speak to Mrs. Potter.” Sarah smiled at Nate, then hurried to the reverend’s wife.

  Nate and Hargrove walked to the outskirts of the crowd and stood beneath a large cottonwood. “You’ve become quite the family man.” Hargrove smiled maliciously. “Sweet little skirt.”

  Nate longed to put a fist down the man’s throat. “What do you want?”

  “Can’t I seek spiritual guidance the same as you?”

  “That’ll be the day. Why did you come?”

  “I just wanted to remind you of our bargain. You’ve been avoiding me, Nate, my boy.” He looked around smiling and nodding at those passing by. “I meant what I said. You try to cross me and I’ll have the law on you so fast you won’t have a chance to slip through the noose this time.”

  Hargrove paused and smiled while a couple passed by. “How would that piece of tail feel about sharing her wares with a murderer? And would she like being implicated as well? If it comes to that, how would you like her to share your blame?”

  Nate gripped the man’s arm in what would appear a friendly way. Hargrove’s florid face paled. “Now listen, and listen good. Do not ever say anything disrespectful of Miss Kincaid again. Not to me, not to anyone else. Got that?” He released Hargrove’s arm.

  Hargrove straightened his jacket sleeve. “So that’s how it is, eh? Spun her a web and you’re trapped in it?”

  “Enough of that. She and her family have been nice to me. I never meant them any harm.”

  “Ha, that’s easy to say now. You’re the one who came up with this, or have you forgotten?”

  “No, I can’t forget. I wish like hell I’d never heard of you or this rotten railroad deal.”

  Nate’s gaze sought Sarah. She talked with Mrs. Potter and Pearl, but she caught his gaze and smiled. When he looked back at Hargrove, the man’s eyes narrowed in speculation.

  “Well, well. Lucky Bartholomew, in love. Who would have thought it? This is indeed interesting. Just see you remember my warning or I’ll take her and her family down with you.”

  “You remember what I said.” Nate threatened, though inside he quaked with terror. He had to find a way to protect the Kincaids, especially his beautiful Sarah.

  Hargrove walked away, shaking hands and chatting as he moved through the crowd lingering outside the church.

  Sarah appeared back at his side, Luke and Cindy in tow. “You look angry. Is everything all right?”

  He smiled down at her. “It is now. Shall we go home?”

  “I wish it really was our home,” Cindy said. “I like it there at Grandpa’s.”

  “Me, too,” Luke said, then peered up at Sarah. “I’m sorry, Mama. I like the ranch, too.”

  “Don’t worry, Luke,” Sarah told him. “It’s all right to like both.”

  “They’re both nice in their own way,” Nate said. “I have to agree with Cindy, though. Even though it’s a wonderful ranch, I prefer the Judge’s house.”

  “I stayed at the ranch with Pearl and Drake so I could help her with her healing. Now, she has a woman training with her and doesn’t need me, so I started the school.”

  “So, you wouldn’t mind living in town?” he asked. If he could pull it off, maybe they could find a small home near the law office or on the edge of town nearest her classes.

  “At one time I had a home site picked out not far from the school, but I think I’d prefer town. It’s a short drive in a buggy to teach, as Luke, Cindy, and I will find out tomorrow.”

  “Back to work or school for all of us tomorrow.” Nate wanted to savor this day in case it was his last with the people he’d forever think of as his family. “Let’s get Joe up in that wheel chair and make the most of our day together.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Come on, children,” Sarah said to Luke and Cindy. “Scoot this way so we save room for Rosie and Sammie.”

  “Mama, how come Rosie gets to come to school?” Luke asked. “She’s too little.”

  “She’s not, is she, Mama?” Cindy asked. “She’s my new friend. And my new cousin.”

  Sarah’s heart expanded a little each time the children called her Mama. “Rosie is young but she always behaves and works hard.”

  They stopped in front of the Tremont home where Sammie and Rosie waited at the gate. Sammie held his sister’s hand in his and Belle watched from the porch. She waved as her children climbed into the buggy.

  Sarah floated through the day. Students welcomed Sarah back, curious about Joe’s adventure. She used their interest to teach them about caves and the dangers lurking within them. And bats. Children loved hearing about bats.

  All during the day, Sarah’s gaze kept wandering to the little anteroom. Through the doorway, she spied the cot she and Nate had used for their brief tryst. Each time her gaze fell on the narrow bed, she recalled how Nate’s hands felt on her body, his sweet and gentle touch. She longed for that caress again, for the rapture he brought.

  Warm tingles swept through her and pooled at her core. My stars, how could she concentrate on teaching with that reminder of his lovemaking taunting her all day? She walked to the back of the room and closed the door, shutting out the sight.

  With so much to be accomplished, the day passed quickly. She dismissed the children and gathered her things for the trip to town. Before she could leave the building, Belle rushed in. Her perfectly groomed attire warred with her frantic expression.

  Belle smoothed a strand of escaped hair back under her bonnet. “Sammie, you and Luke take Rosie and Cindy to play on the swings. You watch them now, so they don’t get hurt.”

  Luke grabbed Cindy's hand and called, "Come on, Sammie. We'll race you."

  The four children tore out the door.

  “I’d thought we agreed I would bring the childr
en by your house. Is something wrong?” Sarah asked. “It’s not Grandpa is it? Nothing’s happened to him, has it?”

  Belle shook her head and looked as if she’d been crying. “No, no. Nothing like that.” She wrung her hands and paced in front of Sarah's desk. “You’d best sit down, because I have to tell you something you won’t like hearing.”

  Puzzled, Sarah pulled the room’s only other chair near for Belle and returned to her own behind her desk. Belle sat down, then jumped back to her feet and started pacing.

  “I’ve worried myself sick about this since Friday night. Lex thinks he took care of it, but he didn’t. I don’t want him to know about this. That’s why I came here, so we could talk privately.”

  Wondering what could be so serious, Sarah waited impatiently. She wanted to get home and visit with Joe before dinner. All at once, a horrible foreboding dropped over her like a veil. She didn’t know how this concerned Nate, but she sensed it did. Just when he’d said he would try to stay, something bad must have happened to prevent it.

  Belle paced in a short arc in front of Sarah. “I tried to tell Lex this would happen some day. He said it didn’t matter. Well, it does. It matters to me, and it will to you, too.”

  Sarah absorbed the other woman’s anxiety. “Belle, please get to the problem. You’re tying me in knots.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said as she whirled and paused before the desk. “I wanted to keep the secret, but you need to know.” She sat in the chair, hunched as if she had suddenly aged fifty years.

  “You know when I worked for your mother in Pipers Hollow and those men helped Roxie bring me to Pearl?”

  Sarah nodded. “How could I forget those horrible times? You were hurt so bad we thought you’d die.”

  “One of those men was Cal, the man Roxie married after she left Tennessee.” Belle took a deep breath. “The other was his son, Nate. Your Nate. Not Barton, Nate Bartholomew.”

  Sarah’s world crashed and shattered around her. Her breath left her body and a terrible knot balled in her stomach. She strove for calm, but it escaped her. “Are you certain? Maybe he only looks like the other Nate, maybe the first name’s a coincidence.”

  Belle shook her head. “No, they were there several days before Quin beat me. I spent a lot of time talking to Nate.” Her eyes pleaded for understanding. “He...we, um—“

  Sarah put her elbows on the desk and rested her face in her hands. She wanted to shut out the hateful words. “I don’t want to hear about it,” she cried.

  “I have to tell you the rest,” Belle persisted. “It’s not so bad. I’d only been there four or five weeks when Cal and Nate came. You know I had nowhere to go when Roxie took me in. She said I shouldn’t start taking men as customers, that she would let me stay until I found someplace to go.”

  She stopped talking a few seconds, overcome with sobs. “She was such a nice person, Sarah. You should be very grateful to have such a good mother. She wouldn’t have let your father turn you out the way mine did. Anyway, one night this man offered me a lot of money because I was new.”

  “Quin?” Sarah said her half brother’s name like a curse. Hearing it brought back the terror of him trying to kill her and Pearl and Storm. The horror of watching Quin die from Drake’s gunshot. Oh, dear Lord, her aching heart could bear no more of this.

  Belle nodded at the name. “The only man I’d ever been with was George, and just one time, when he told me he had no intention of marrying me and I left him. I thought if Quin gave me as much cash as he had promised, I'd have enough to last until I could find a job as a maid or governess or something.”

  “So you went with Quin?” Sarah shuddered at the thought of Belle exposed to Quin’s twisted evil.

  “Yes. And he was rough. He...He hurt me. I was scared. He told me if I told or tried to leave town he’d kill both me and Roxie. I believed him. After that, I took any customer who offered for me. It was awful and I hated it.”

  “What has this to do with Nate?” Sarah asked while tears streamed unhindered down her face. Her broken heart sought escape. If only she could go home and lock the world away until she could talk to Nate. If only he were here to pull her into his embrace and explain all this away.

  “He knew what I felt inside, sensed it. He showed me how it could be between a man and a woman. Not pretending he loved me or anything, just showing me how it should be for me.” Belle broke into heaving sobs and had to pause again.

  Sarah’s world crashed further with every sentence from Belle. As if it weren’t bad enough to know he lied, she had to find he’d had sex with her friend. She almost hated Belle for having shared Nate’s body, for knowing him first.

  A part of her knew it a ridiculous reaction, for she hadn’t even known Belle or Nate then. He was an attractive man in his midtwenties. He must have had lots of lovers over the years. The woman part of her wanted Nate to be only hers, refused to share him with anyone.

  She wiped her own tears and pleaded, “Please, Belle, you don’t know what this is doing to me. If you have to tell me this, I beg of you, finish.”

  Belle regained control and said, “You don’t know how much Nate’s kindness meant. I swear to you, I was close to killing myself until he was so kind to me. You see how much I owe him, how I could never forget him or be mistaken about it being the same man. Oh, he’s grown a bit taller and broader through the chest and shoulders, but there is no mistaking, he’s the Nate who saved my life.”

  She dabbed at her face and eyes with a lace handkerchief. “I’d decided there could be no tenderness or happiness left in my life until he showed me differently. It probably meant nothing to him, but it meant the world to me. Quin came back, and that time he nearly killed me. Then Pearl saved me again twice over when she healed me and gave me a chance to come to Texas and marry my precious Lex.”

  Sara leaned her arms on the desk and buried her face in their shelter. “Why did he lie to me? Why?” She hadn’t asked him to stay, hadn’t asked for promises of any kind. Why couldn’t he have told her the truth?

  Belle shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve worried for three days about it. I can’t talk to Lex about it for fear he’ll know how well I knew Nate. It must have something to do with this railroad thing.”

  “I don’t see how it could.” Adding to her distress, another realization sprang into Sarah’s whirling mind. She looked up. “Belle, that means he should have had half the money from the sale of Mama’s saloon. He should have Cal’s share.”

  “Why didn’t he claim it?” Belle asked.

  “Mama thought he was dead. There’d been a wire from some sheriff that he’d been killed in a gunfight.”

  Oh, the bandages she’d seen through the keyhole. They’d been from gunshots. But why did the sheriff think Nate died? And why hadn’t he asked for his share of the inheritance?

  Feeling as if lead weighed down her limbs, Sarah rose from her chair. “None of this makes sense. I’m going to confront him as soon as he gets home. He has a lot of explaining to do.”

  ***

  Nate and Gabe looked up when Marcus Novak, the owner of the Mercantile which housed the post office, entered. The man clutched an envelope in his hand as if he guarded a treasure.

  “You delivering the mail now, Marcus?” Gabe asked.

  “Mr. Barton got another one of them letters from Pinkerton’s. I figured it was important.” He handed the letter over to Nate.

  “Thanks,” Nate said as he examined the envelope. Should he open it now or wait until the merchant left?

  “Say, you working for them Pinkerton’s or something?” Marcus asked, his nose twitching with curiosity.

  Nate had no idea how to answer. He smiled and shrugged. “Guess you could say it’s something like that. Had a little business with them recently.”

  “Will you bring the rest of the mail, Marcus?” Gabe asked.

  The man looked astounded. “Well, no, Gabe. ‘Course not. You always come to the store to get it. I just thought this m
ight be something real important Mr. Barton needed to see right away.”

  Gabe shook his head at the man’s reasoning.

  “And I appreciate it.” Nate said. “Real thoughtful of you to take time to bring it to me.”

  Marcus nodded, looked torn between desire to learn the contents of the letter and the need to get back across the street to his store. Duty won and he said, “Reckon I’ll get back ‘fore my wife sends for me.”

  Nate thanked him again then slit the envelope open. He unfolded the single sheet of paper with an odd sense of dread.

  It was from the same Pinkerton agent Nate had hired in Tennessee, the one who had warned them of the break-in and tampering with Sarah’s file.

  Dear Mr. Barton,

  A curious thing happened today and I can only offer the information as a possible warning. Two men came into the office this morning to engage my services in a search for a Henry Hargrove, reported to be traveling with Monk Magonagle and Nate Bartholomew. Their description of Mr. Bartholomew fit you exactly and the names are quite similar. In the event they had the name wrong and are searching for you, I feel obligated to alert you. They said they live in Chicago and assured me they had no wish to harm anyone, merely searched for Mr. Hargrove on family business. I declined their request to represent them. After so many years in this business, I can read people. I didn’t like what I saw in these two.

  Nate refolded the letter and slipped it into his pocket. Trouble was marshalling around him. He wondered how soon Hargrove’s brothers-in-law--and he had no doubt of the two men’s identity--would trace him here. Hell, who else was likely to turn up to add to his misery?

  Decision time had arrived. He had to make a choice to run or stay and face the consequences. Get away with enough money to open his own place in New Orleans or face possible imprisonment, maybe hanging? Sarah’s face appeared in his mind. He saw her eyes filled with love, her golden hair spread on his pillow and her lips seeking his. In an instant, that vision faded and he felt again the terror of the coffin in Arkansas, the desperation he experienced at the hands of a mob.