by Kari Trumbo
"Lay still now, we'll both get some sleep and, with any kind of luck, Hob will come get us in the morning." His warm breath fanned her neck but sent heat everywhere else.
Sleep? How could she sleep? At least on his lap they'd been upright. If anyone found them like this... Her blush, radiating off her cheeks, should've been enough to warm the whole room.
"I can't sleep with you." She tried to turn over so she could push against him, but he held her fast. "It isn't right."
Randolph pressed his lips behind her ear and she gasped at the tender softness. "May, if I had my druthers, I'd sleep just this way for the rest of my days."
His light snore filled the room a few moments later, but her mind was too full to even consider it.
Chapter Ten
Randolph left the blanket over May as he slowly slid from behind her. She curled up slightly at the loss of his warmth, but he couldn't lay awake next to her. If a man could send for a mail-order bride and know less about her than he knew about May, and it could still work, then he could have a chance at happiness with May. She deserved a little, and he refused to be just another man in a long line who'd sent her on her way.
Her story had cut into all his waking thoughts, and even his dreams, all night. Such a smart, pretty, passionate woman didn't deserve to be alone. The only problem, was his boss. Montague had always let him be, he was too calm and quiet to confront Randolph about much of anything. Randolph had respected him enough that he'd never needed to. But now, that respect was tarnished. May hadn't deserved what his boss had done. Even though it laid the trail for him to be right where he was, that didn't make it right.
There was a very faint glow of morning light pouring through the little holes in the wall, and he used that light to find the flexibles and fire the lamp once again. He'd checked every inch of the walls for some weak spot, but he didn't want to start banging on the door again until May was awake. They couldn't stay there all day.
There were no rugs on the floors to hide a trap door, no cupboards to hide a spot in the wall. Nothing. Just a cell in the middle of someone's pasture. Even if Hob had sent a telegram, he might not hear back until midday at the earliest, and then he'd have to ride all the way back out there. Randolph would rather burn the place down and pray they got out alive than stay there and wait, hoping Hob decided to free them.
May sat up from the cot, her eye lids heavy and hair tousled. She yawned and he came back to the cot and sat on the edge.
"Did you sleep well?" He hoped she did. Because he'd offer to marry her as soon as they got back to Sweetwater Springs, and he wanted her well-rested for what might be a long day. She would never have to be alone or turned away again.
May nodded. "I decided last night that I'm going to return to Maine." She rubbed her bare arms against the chill.
He held his breath, unable to speak. He'd hoped that spending a night in his arms would show her that he was capable, even if he didn’t have Montague’s wealth. That he was willing to be the man to take care of her.
"I'm going back to my aunt’s. I don't want to stay in Montana anymore. There's nothing for me here." Her voice was so bitter, and her face so set with determination, he wasn't sure what to say.
She stood and swished her skirt back and forth until it lay properly on her hips, and then she dug into a hidden pocket in the side.
"Did you see if he just locked the door? Perhaps we could get out if we tried to make a key?" She pulled a small knife from her pocket, like those at the hotel.
"What are you doing with that?" He approached her, but she waved him away, sliding the knife between the door and the frame.
"Maybe I can get the lock to click open if I can just pry it." She pushed a little harder. Much more and she'd cut her hand.
"Let me try."
May stepped back and left the knife sticking out from the gap. He hadn't tried his own knife the night before, thinking that Hob had propped something outside the door, but that would be visible to anyone who happened to ride by. It made more sense that he would just lock the door, if that was an option.
He ran the knife all the way to the floor and nothing held him back, nor did anything give. He drew it out and flipped it, then slid the knife all the way up the door until it reached about an inch from the top, there it stuck.
"It's a latch on the outside. This little knife was a good idea, but it just isn't quite long enough." Randolph handed her back the little paring knife and tugged out his pocket knife, flipping it open. The blade was one inch longer and, if it wasn't too thick to fit, would be long enough to flip open the latch. Then they would be free.
He pushed it through, though it was a much tighter fit than the other knife, and he shoved it up with as much force as he could. The door vibrated with the force, then swung open.
May tried to rush past him, but he grabbed her about the waist and held her off her feet, and she squealed for a moment.
"You can't just go rushing out there. What if he's set someone to guard?"
It would've been a long night for someone to sit outside, but he wouldn't put it past Hob, and even if May did decide to leave for Maine, he wasn't about to see her hurt again.
She stopped flailing as he set her down on her feet. "I was just so excited to get out of here."
He wanted to pull her close, to kiss her again like he had the day before when he'd left her breathless. Then he wanted to tell her that she didn't have to go off to Maine, she could stay with him, right there in Montana. But he wouldn't confuse her decision. She wouldn't have come to it lightly. Maybe she discovered that she loved her former boss more than she thought.
"Let me go first. You stay right behind me and grab that blanket, it's still cold out this morning." Just because he wouldn't be her husband, didn't mean he couldn't care about her.
May put out the lantern, wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, then fell into step behind him as they left their little cabin, and all the words he needed to say, behind.
#
Keeping up with Randolph wasn't easy in the scrubby grass that was only just starting to push free of the dead foliage from the fall before. His legs were long and sure, with thick leather boots and trousers. While she had dainty half-boots and a long skirt that seemed to snag everything as she walked by. The fabric attracted every stray bur and weed, tearing the delicate fabric at the hem.
When she'd left for their outing in the carriage, she'd tried to look her best, but that morning, she was at her worst. It was no wonder he kept striding ahead, never looking back at her. If she had any idea how to get back to Sweetwater Springs on her own, she would just sit on the nearest rock and let him continue on. He probably wouldn't notice until he made it all the way back to the Livingston. Drat him.
A rock jutted out from the ground and caught her foot. She crashed to her knees, like little more than a pile of fabric on the ground. May glanced up and, as she'd suspected, Randolph didn't hear her. She tried to assure herself that it was the wind, not the fact that he didn't care a whit about her, that kept him from hearing, but her reason was no match for the sharp ache of her heart, even more stringent than the pain shooting through her ankle.
She pushed up off the ground and tried to put weight on the ankle, but it wouldn't take the pressure. Her screech of pain finally turned him around. Randolph jogged back the twenty or so yards he'd gotten ahead.
"May, are you all right?" He knelt in front of her, his eyes warm with worry.
"I twisted my ankle trying to keep up with you. Want to put me on that train so badly you can't wait?" She didn't want to be angry with him, but she couldn't help it. He was just another man that acted as if she was worth the time, but that's all it ever was, an act. May wasn't worth anything deeper, and that realization hurt. Part of her knew that Caruso would be the same.
She'd hoped, with the heat of his kisses and the tenderness he'd shown her in the cabin, that maybe Randolph was different. But when she'd mentioned her plan, he hadn't tried to sway her,
hadn't said much of anything to her at all. Her announcement had come as more of a relief to him than anything.
"I don't think I can walk all the way back. It hurts if I try to stand."
With a quick motion, he tore off a length from one edge of the blanket. He helped her sit more comfortably on the ground then glanced at her boot, sticking out from her dress. "Let me see your ankle."
She sucked in a deep breath. Never had she shown a man her feet. Feet were smelly, ugly things, and women never, ever showed them to anyone.
"May." He used that stern tone she was now getting used to hearing.
Heat rushed up her cheeks as she fought with the buttons on her boots. She wiggled her foot out of it and with as much modesty as she could muster, peeled off her stocking. The ankle was already starting to bruise along the inside.
"Why didn't you just ask me to slow down?" His voice was so close, right next to her head and she couldn't speak to answer him. His thumb gently rubbed the swelling area. With tender care, he lifted her foot and wrapped the strip of blanket around the bottom of her foot and ankle.
"I didn't think you cared." It sounded so silly and petulant now that she said it.
"May ... I ..." He didn't finish. Instead he scrubbed his hand down his face in frustration.
"Just go on without me. Come back with a horse to get me, I'll be fine on my own." Her heart constricted, not able to stop her thoughts from adding silently, if you don't forget me.
"I'm not leaving you, May. I'm not like all those others," he growled, and in a moment, she was standing again. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her tight to his side.
She held onto him and tried to walk. Now they would have to go even slower.
"Are you sure that everything you hope for is in Maine? I really hate sending you off when you don't even know what you could be heading into. We should send your aunt a telegram first, asking if she's even still there..." His grip on her hip tightened slightly the more he spoke.
"Randolph, my aunt wouldn't leave Maine. I'll be fine. You won't have to look after me anymore once we get back. You shouldn't have had to, to begin with. It wasn't your place, and your boss had no right to ask it of you."
And that was the heart of it. Randolph was only there because he'd been asked to. He'd been thrust into a situation and was too chivalrous to just let her go.
They walked for a while and rested when she needed to, but Randolph didn't question her further. Nor did he try to change her mind. She'd so hoped that he would. Caruso's attempt at a kiss had been cold and lifeless in comparison to Randolph's, and now, she'd never be able to forget it.
Chapter Eleven
Sweet May was exhausted and limping heavily by the time they walked through the big doors of the Livingston Hotel. Her blue eyes were glossy with held back tears, but she was so strong, and kept going, even when he'd offered to stop. Hob sat in a chair near the door, handcuffed and scowling. Randolph held May close as they walked by him. Mr. Rockwell, the manager of the hotel, rushed around the edge of the massive front desk, his eyes bright with concern, and mouth hanging open.
"Miss Rockford, Mr. Montague, we were so worried when you didn't come back last night. Jack at the post office warned Sheriff Granger about a strange telegram sent by Mr. Hob. Since the telegram was to you, we thought it was rather suspicious."
Randolph was finished pretending to be his boss. That lie had caused more confusion and strife than he cared to claim. If Montague got angry, well, it was his own fault.
"I'm sorry. The real Mr. Montague asked me to use his name to meet Miss Rockford here. He's still at home in Ruby. Hob was worried about why I was here. Last night, he locked us in a cabin, saying it was just until he could be reassured that Montague wasn't coming to Morgan's Crossing or Sweetwater Springs to start up a herd."
Hob made no comment. He probably knew better than to speak up, being a lawyer. Nothing he said would help his case. Best to stay silent. He held May tightly around the waist to hold her up as everyone talked, but she'd need a seat very soon. She was shaky and her limp had gotten worse the longer they'd had to walk, though he'd tried to take as much of her weight as he could.
"May needs to see a doctor. Can you send for one, please?" Randolph addressed the clerk.
The sheriff, who'd been silently listening to the exchange, tipped her head. "I'll just get Hob out of here. I'm glad you both were able to make it out. We've been trying all morning to get him to tell us where you were, but he wouldn't say. Now, I can just go lock him up."
Randolph refused to care about Hob, not after all he'd done, and not when May needed his attention. He helped her sit in one of the large blue velvet chairs and found an ottoman for her foot.
"We've had quite the adventure, haven't we?" he asked as he levered her swollen ankle up onto the stool. She hadn't spoken a word to him since he'd wrapped her foot. For as much as they'd been together in the last day, they'd managed to get more confused about each other, not less.
She didn't respond, just shook her head and her eyes misted with unshed tears that tore at his heart.
"May, I'd really like you to stay here, at least until your ankle is strong enough to stand on." He wouldn't beg, but he also wouldn't offer to take her trunk for her if she refused. He could be just as stubborn as her. He'd also whoop like a coyote if she agreed to stay.
She sighed and closed her eyes, flinching slightly as she flexed her foot. "You keep trying to find a reason for me to stay. You feel responsible that I'm here, so that's not surprising. I know you said it was difficult for you to put me on the train. I can only assume it's because I wasn't sure where I was going. Now I know. I'm going back to my old home. I'm going back to Maine. I won't be a burden to anyone, because I can work there."
He took her hands and knelt in front of her, praying for the Lord to give him the right words, because this could be his only chance. "May, the same problems are there now that made you leave in the first place. Nothing has changed. Your aunt is still married and you have no other place to stay. You might be able to get a job with that Caruso fellow, but what if you can't? What if..." He hated to even voice it. It would hurt her, but he also wanted her to think through her plan before she moved across a whole country. "What if he doesn't want to see you? What if you've used up the last of your money to get there and you have nowhere to go? I wouldn't be there to help you, May."
May jutted out her stubborn chin and blinked away the tears she hadn’t allowed to fall yet. "I'll find someone who wants me. I won't be alone anymore. There has to be somewhere out there for me."
Randolph bowed his head and stared at the pattern in the huge carpet, trying to control the torrent of his emotion filling him. He was already on one knee...
"You already have, May. Stay in Montana." It was an order, not a question, and he flinched. She gasped and tried to pull her hand from his. He had to start over, and the best time was now. "I mean, with me. Stay with me. Marry me, May, instead of Montague."
#
Between the throbbing of her foot and her heart, May thought she just might burst. Randolph's proposal was simply horrible, but so much like the man she'd gotten to know over the last few days; commanding, caring, and a little fumbling, all in one. But no one had made her heart flutter like he did. Not Caruso, even with his polished charm. Not Montague, with his chilly but eloquent letters. Only Randolph, whose heart was bigger than all of Montana.
He glanced into her eyes and she couldn't mistake the worry and care there. Those things proved that he thought her important, that he wouldn't forget her, and that would grow into love if they both let it. She wanted that more than anything.
May leaned forward, finally slipping her hands from his and cupping his face. His cheeks were rough with a day's worth of stubble and his jaw was so hard and strong, but his hazel eyes were warm, soft, and only saw her. He was the man for her, the man who would make May Rockford a bride.
"Yes, Randolph. I'll marry you."
He leaned
forward, and though they were in the middle of the lobby with people looking on, he kissed her on the lips, tempting her with his sweet gentleness. This kiss didn't leave her breathless, as others had. She felt only warmth and a growing need to stay with Randolph forever.
"As soon as you can walk, it'll be down the aisle, straight toward me. If not for Hob, I'd go get the preacher right now."
She laughed, a bit of her energy coming back with the racing of her heart. "I'll find someone to push me, if I have to."
Randolph kissed her hand. "The doctor is on his way. We both need to eat, rest, and clean up. If the doctor gives the okay, I'll ask if we can use the conservatory tonight. Do I need to send a message to anyone, and let them know?"
Her happiness took on a brief chill. "No, there's no one who would really want to know. I'll write to my brother after a while. Cutter's Creek was a wonderful home, and we can visit sometime, but I belong with you."
The doctor pushed through the door, carrying a large, smart leather bag. He had a wide smile and straight auburn hair mingling with whiskers down the sides of his face. He nodded to Randolph and knelt in front of her. "I'm Dr. Cameron. Why don't we move ye to a more private area for examination?" His voice was kindly and held a touch of a Scottish accent.
Randolph didn't miss a moment. He scooped her right up and turned toward the stairs, the doctor following at his heels. May dug in her pocket and got out the key to her room, glad she'd taken the time to tidy her trunk and everything before they'd left for their ride the afternoon before.
It warmed her that Randolph knew which room was hers. He'd been watching after her, even before he had to. After he opened the door and let the doctor in, he followed. He had a stubborn stoniness to his brow, there would be no arguing with him.
"Twenty-four hours since you ate last? Perhaps you should get a plate for the lady?" The doctor glanced over his shoulder at Randolph.
Randolph glanced at the door, and then at her, a war going on over what he should do, leave her and let the doctor tend to her alone, or stay at her side.