Bride of the High Country

by Kaki Warner

“Then imagine washing her face. Try it. What can it hurt?”

  He could almost see the idea taking hold in her mind. Her eyes lost focus. Her gaze turned inward. She grew still as her lids came down. For several seconds she sat without moving, then slowly, her frown gave way to a smile that curled the corners of lips still swollen from his kisses.

  “What do you see under that paint?” he asked her.

  “A beautiful little girl.”

  “What’s her name?”

  The smile spread, reaching all the way to the dimple in her left cheek. “Cathleen.”

  “Who is she?”

  Her eyes opened and what he saw in their green depths wrapped like a gentle hand around his heart. “Me.”

  * * *

  Lucinda was in a state of euphoria when they left the graveyard. Ever since yesterday, when she’d learned Maddie and Ash would be staying in Heartbreak Creek more or less permanently, she had been flying high. But now with Tait beside her, she felt lighthearted, loved, and so in love she was dizzy with it. He knew everything yet saw her no differently. She wanted to laugh. Dance. Hug the man beside her until her arms gave out.

  She felt free.

  “I fear I’m rather taken with you, Mr. Rylander,” she said, smiling up at him as they walked arm in arm back to the hotel, the horse following behind on his rein.

  “You should be. I broke Doyle’s nose for you.”

  “Did you? You brave thing.”

  “I also defended you against a knife-wielding lunatic.”

  “And I love you for it.”

  He stopped, making her stop. When he looked down at her, his gray eyes were so intense she felt stripped bare. Not an unpleasant sensation, she recalled. Especially when he took his time at it, trailing kisses over whatever he exposed. And when he put his tongue—

  “Do you?” he asked, shattering her pleasant musings.

  “Do I what?”

  “Love me? You never said.”

  She started to laugh, then realized he was serious. “Of course I do. How could you doubt it after the way I . . . after last night?”

  “Then say it.”

  Emotion clogged her voice. “I love you, Tait Rylander. More than I thought possible. More than I probably should.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She shrugged and started them walking again, needing to get herself in hand before she started crying again. She was amazed she had tears left. “Other than Mrs. Throckmorton, no one that I’ve cared about has stayed around long.”

  “I will.”

  “Will you?” She looked up at him. “Here, in Heartbreak Creek?” She had been afraid to broach the subject, terrified of having to leave this place she had grown to love. But if that’s what Tait wanted . . .

  Before he could answer, the drum of hooves drew their attention. She looked up, one hand shading her eyes from the morning sun. “It’s Declan and Ash. I bet they’re riding out to the site where the Wallaces are planning to build a house. I’ll introduce them to you, then you can go with them.”

  “I met them last night. And I prefer being with you.”

  “Do you? How sweet. But you should go anyway, just to be nice.”

  “I don’t want to be nice. I want to take off your clothes and lay you across the bed and—”

  “Hush. They’ll hear.”

  “You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?”

  “Of course not,” she lied. Nor, she realized, did she want to mar this beautiful morning with a difficult discussion about where they would live after they married. “It’s simply that I’ll be busy with the ladies all morning and thought you might enjoy an outing with the men, although Thomas has gone up into the mountains, so I doubt you’ll be meeting him today. Or possibly ever,” she added with a look of disgust. “Since the foolish man shouldn’t be up and about so soon after being shot.”

  “You haven’t told your lady friends about me, have you?”

  “Well, I . . . meant to. I am. I will. Right now, in fact. Hello, gentlemen,” she called to the approaching riders. “What a lovely day for a ride.”

  “I agree,” Tait muttered, with a look that sent heat into her face. Turning, he nodded to the men reining in beside them. “Looks like you’re stuck with me for the morning, gentlemen, so Lucinda can explain to your wives who I am and why I spent the night in her bed and why she hasn’t mentioned me before today.”

  “Tait Rylander!”

  “Och, lass.” The Scotsman pressed a hand to his brow. “Dinna shout. My head is bursting as it is.”

  Declan grinned. “Ed did mention she wanted to talk to you, Lucinda. In fact, I believe she and Maddie and Pru are all waiting for you right now in the dining room.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “If you’re coming, lad,” the earl said to Tait, “best mount up before Tricks gets here. He can be fair exuberant, God love him.”

  Following his nod, Tait saw a huge gray dog streaking toward them, mouth open, tongue flopping. “Jesus,” he muttered, stepping in front of Lucinda.

  “Not to worry,” the earl assured him. “He’s verra fearful of the ladies. Especially this one. Would have made a fine sergeant, so she would.”

  Reining his horse away, the sheriff called over his shoulder, “Come along, then, Rylander. Feels like snow. You can help me watch Ash dig a foundation before it gets here.”

  Twenty

  Lucinda had read once about a river in South America that was inhabited by small fish with large teeth, and any creature that happened into their midst would be completely devoured in a matter of minutes.

  That was exactly how she felt when she walked into the hotel.

  “You’re in trouble,” Brin shouted gleefully from an upholstered chair where it appeared she was trying to fit one of her dead doll’s dresses on Maddie’s little dog. The doll itself had been burned at the stake the previous year by Brin and her brother, Joe Bill, Edwina had informed Lucinda with a look of horror.

  “Best turn around and leave while you can,” Yancey advised from his stool behind the front desk. “They been honing their tongues in there for an hour.”

  “Ed made Pru come so she could fuss at you, too,” Brin added. “I ain’t seen her so worked up since she cracked an egg over Joe Bill’s head for looking under her skirts for a devil tail. What’d you do?” Born into a family of three older brothers, then allowed to run wild for four years after her mother disappeared, Brin was a bit of a handful. Edwina was making a valiant effort, but Lucinda doubted she’d ever gain control over that indomitable spirit. Nor, should she.

  But Lucinda wasn’t sure the seven-year-old should be on hand for what was sure to ensue. In her present state, Edwina was too volatile, and the child was too curious—no telling what she might overhear, or repeat. “Where are your brothers?”

  “Fishing.”

  “Don’t you want to join them?”

  “Ed said I had to stay here with Yancey. Besides, they’re not really fishing. They’re looking at postcards of nekkid women Joe Bill found.”

  Good Lord. “Well, stay in the lobby, then.”

  “What if the doggie has to pee?”

  “Yancey.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll tend it.”

  Unable to delay further, Lucinda pasted on an innocent smile and marched bravely to her inquisition.

  Edwina pounced the moment she saw her. “Lucinda Hathaway! You have some explaining to do!”

  “Ed, calm yourself,” Pru warned. “It’s not good for the baby.”

  “Who is this Rylander person?” Maddie’s expressive face showed more than a little hurt. “Ash said he came all the way from New York to see you, but you’ve never even mentioned him before.”

  “I wanted to.” Lucinda sank into her chair bes
ide the window that overlooked the woods bordering the creek. “But I thought it was over, that I’d never see him again.”

  “Why?”

  “We had a falling out. A misunderstanding. But all is well, now.”

  “Apparently so,” Maddie murmured with a knowing look.

  Ignoring it, Lucinda poured a cup of tea from the pot on the table, then spooned in sugar. She took a sip and set it aside. “So how are you ladies this morning?”

  The ploy didn’t work.

  “Is he handsome?” Ever the romantic, Edwina was.

  “Extremely so. In fact, with his gray eyes and dark hair, he reminds me of your Brin. But only in appearance,” she hastily added. “And he’s southern, which I know will please you, although he’s lived in New York since the war.” She didn’t mention that he’d fought on the Union side, which would please Edwina less and generate more questions.

  Edwina leaned forward to peer intently into Lucinda’s face. “Is that bristle rash?”

  “Edwina!”

  “Well, look at her, Pru. Her lips are puffy, she looks as if she hasn’t slept a wink, and she’s got red splotches all over her chin and neck and Lord knows where-all else. That’s bristle rash. Trust me, I should know.” Ignoring her sputtering sister, Edwina leaned forward again and lowered her voice. “You consummated, didn’t you?”

  Pru gasped. “Good heavens, Edwina!”

  Lucinda felt heat rush up her splotchy neck.

  “You did! I knew it! Didn’t I say dear Luce has the look of a woman missing her man, Pru? Didn’t I say that?”

  “Actually, you said she seemed lonely and you thought we should find her a beau. To which,” Pru hastened to add to Lucinda, “I heartily objected.”

  “Hush, you two,” Maddie admonished. “So she can tell us who he is and why he’s here.”

  Lucinda looked at the three pairs of eyes staring back at her with disturbing intensity, and was reminded again of those fish in South America. “His name is Tait Rylander. He’s a lawyer and railroad investor, and he was my fiancé’s business partner. I’ve known him for over a year, and he’s the finest man I’ve ever known. He’s asked me to marry him, and I’ve said yes.”

  Edwina squealed, which brought Brin and the dog running from the lobby.

  Pru blinked at her in shocked delight. “Oh, my.”

  Maddie gave a troubled smile.

  “How romantic,” Edwina gushed, her eyes suspiciously bright. “He followed you all the way from New York just to profess his love. It’s like a fairy tale. Although I must say it took him long enough. Brin, go back to Yancey, please.”

  “But I’m hungry.”

  Thinking it best to get the child out of the room before her stepmother made any more untoward comments, Lucinda nodded toward the kitchen. “If it’s all right with your mother, I think Cook has some biscuits left from breakfast.”

  Brin waited hopefully for Edwina’s nod, then dashed down the back hallway, the dog bounding behind her in her jaunty bonnet.

  “Well, your swain is here now,” Pru said, continuing where they had left off before Brin’s interruption. “And that’s what’s important.”

  “Do you love him?” Maddie asked.

  Sudden emotion flooded Lucinda. With a shaky smile, she reached over and gave her friend’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I do. Very much.”

  “Then I’m happy for you.”

  Lucinda felt wretched. There was so much more she wanted to tell them, especially Maddie. But to do so would only open herself to questions she wasn’t ready to answer. Confessing all to Tait had been one thing—a good and necessary thing, she realized now, no matter how painful it was. But to reveal the sordid details of her past to her friends would change how they looked at her. They would be sad for her, and horrified by what she had suffered, and glad that she had put it behind her . . . but that knowledge would ever after be in their eyes whenever they looked at her. It might alter forever the connection they shared, and she couldn’t bear that.

  She would always be Lucinda Hathaway to them, and so she would remain. And if a twinge of guilt marred her happiness as she accepted their well wishes and congratulations, she hid it behind a smile. She loved and needed them too much to let the truth create a barrier between them.

  “So when will the wedding be?” Edwina asked. “If you wait until the baby comes, I’ll be able to dance again. I so love to waltz with Declan, even though he vows he hates it.”

  “Perhaps a month. Maybe, two. I have to send for my guardian, Mrs. Throckmorton. It’s very important to me that she be here for the ceremony.”

  Edwina eyed Lucinda’s rashy neck with a smirk. “She had better hurry then, or you might be wearing my wedding dress when you go up the aisle.”

  Lucinda laughed, unnerved yet intrigued by the idea of a laughing, gray-eyed baby, even if he or she came a few months early. She wondered how Tait would feel about that, or if she would be as emotional as Edwina—although judging by the copious amount of tears she had shed the previous night, she might even become more so.

  Movement caught her eye, and she looked out the window beside her to see a man riding past the hotel toward the livery. There was something familiar about him. The set of his shoulders, the way his jowls spilled over his high, stiff collar, the hands gripping—

  Then he turned his head and she saw his face.

  Air rushed out of her. Horne.

  For an instant she sat frozen, then a more terrifying thought sent her bolting from her chair. Brin!

  Unmindful of the surprised voices calling to her, she ran into the lobby but saw only Yancey, dozing on his stool. “Where’s Brin?” she cried. “Has she come back from the kitchen?”

  The old man jerked awake, eyes slow to focus. “Brin?” Blinking groggily, he looked around. “She was right here, then her Ma shrieked and she—”

  “What’s wrong?” Maddie cried, rushing up behind her, Edwin and Pru on her heels.

  “Brin’s gone. We have to find her! Yancey, check the kitchen!”

  “She’s probably just outside,” Edwina said as Yancey rushed toward the back hallway. “She wanders sometimes, but . . .” Her words trailed off when she saw Lucinda’s face. “What’s wrong? Oh, God. Something has happened to her?”

  “Take a breath, Ed,” Pru ordered. “Lucinda, what’s going on?”

  “There’s a man,” Lucinda cried, rushing out the front doors. “A terrible man. He just rode by. I have to find Brin.” She spun, searching the boardwalk, but saw no one. “Brin!” she yelled. No answer.

  She rushed back inside just as Yancey returned. “Cook said she went out back.”

  “Maddie, call your dog,” Lucinda ordered. “Brin was playing with her earlier. Billy,” she said when she saw the bellboy coming down the stairs. “Have you seen Brin?”

  “No. ma’am. I been upstairs folding—”

  “Can you ride?”

  The boy nodded.

  Lucinda grabbed him off the bottom step and shoved him toward the door. “Find a horse, any horse—steal it if you have to—and ride out to the Wallace’s new place and get the men. Now! Tell Tait it’s Franklin Horne.”

  “Who’s Tait?”

  “Just go!” She was shaking, spiraling into panic. Visions of Horne’s cruel hands and fat, pointed tongue exploded in her mind. She ran into her office, grabbed the little pistol from her desk, and raced toward the rear door. “Keep looking,” she called back to the others still milling in the lobby. “I’m going to the livery.” Then bursting out of the hotel, she raced down the rutted track, whimpers of terror bubbling in her throat.

  * * *

  “I’d like to be a Pinkerton,” the Scotsman mused, tossing another shovel full of dirt over his shoulder. “I’d be good at it, so I would.”

  “I told y
ou they wouldn’t hire you,” Declan Brodie reminded him as he positioned another length of log for sawing. “You being a fookin’ earl and all.”

  “Bugger off.”

  Tait looked up from the hole he was digging. “You’re not going back to Scotland?”

  “No’ to live. This is my Maddie’s home now, so this is where I’ll stay. Yet a man must do something besides follow his wee wife about while she takes her tintypes. But if the Pinkertons willna hire me . . .” The sentence trailed off on a long sigh.

  Tait paused in his digging. “Then start your own agency.”

  The Scotsman looked up, a fall of gray-brown hair shading his forehead. Tait could see the speculation in his green eyes. “My own detective agency?”

  “Why not? With all the railroad activity around here, there must be a steady need for security.”

  “Aye. Security. Maybe.”

  They dug for a while in silence, then Wallace said, “I’m no’ so good with paperwork. I couldna do it all on my own.” He looked over, his rugged face showing a vulnerability Tait would never have expected in such a capable, confident man. “You said you’re planning to stay in Heartbreak Creek?”

  “If that’s what Lucinda wants.” Was he asking Tait to join in the venture? As Tait mulled that over, Brodie stalked up, a scowl on his face. “I said dig a hole, you two. Not a grave.”

  “A grave is a hole,” Ash argued. “And if ye dinna stop ordering me aboot, ye’ll learn that firsthand, so ye will.”

  Tait noticed that drink and aggravation made the Scotsman’s accent stronger. If he got much more irritated, he’d be speaking gibberish. Sticking his shovel point first into the pile of dirt beside the hole he was digging, he rested an arm across the handle. “Perhaps if you explained the ultimate purpose of the holes, we might be better able to excavate them to your specifications.”

  The earl stopped digging to stare at him. “You are the funniest-talking man I ever heard, so you are.”

  “Me? Hell, I can’t understand half of what comes out of your mouth.”

  Tait realized he was becoming a bit aggravated, himself. He could be back at the hotel teaching his fiancée how to play strip poker instead of being stuck here, sweating like a field hand alongside these two cantankerous bastards. If they would spend as much energy working as trading insults, they could get this done and he might still have time for a couple of deals before dinner.