Wild Storm (The Unbridled Series Book 2)
Page 12
“Now look here little man, you don’t pay your Uncle Cal no mind. He never knows what he’s talking about half of the time. What makes you think this time’s any different?”
“Thanks, Uncle Colt.”
Colt raised his brow at Cass. “So, big brother, are you going to invite us in or what?”
“Yeah, sorry. The whole gang’s here. You two are the last…”
Colt didn’t hear the rest of what Cass was saying. He was down the hall shouting for his parents. The parlor door opened, and he could see everyone inside the room and outside the opened French windows. He scooped his mother into his arms and spun with her. Her arms flew around his neck, and she giggled like a schoolgirl.
“Come on now, put me down.”
“How’d you get here? I thought I’d have to fight my way into Charleston with a stick of dynamite down my pants, and blow the house up in order to get you out of there.”
“Your Uncle Marcellus got word to your pa and me that Clarkson was injured and a prisoner of war. I sent word to Cass to get us out so I could make sure Clarkson was all right.”
“If I knew that’s what it would take, I’d have hurt Clarkson a long time ago, back when this war started.”
“Be serious.”
“I was being serious.” Colt smiled and kissed her cheek.
Rubbing at her cheek, his mother said. “Anyway, he was lucky enough to be captured by your Uncle Marcellus’ regiment. He has him living in a hotel with him under guard. He’s told Clarkson if he tries to escape he’ll have him shot. Clarkson’s not sure if he’s serious or not, so he’s been behaving.”
“I’ve got something to tell you, but you gotta keep it between you and Pa until after Cal’s married.”
“What is it?”
“Cole and me…”
“Cole and I.” She corrected him with a gentle tap on the cheek.
“Okay, Cole and I are getting married too, in about six weeks.”
“Oh that’s wonderful news.”
“Shush, keep your voice down.”
“What’s wonderful news?” Clarkson asked.
“That your tough hide was strong enough to repel Union bullets.”
“Ha, ha, very funny. Ma, I have to leave for the hotel now with Uncle Marcellus, I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow.” Clarkson leaned in and kissed his mother’s cheek. She smiled and hugged him.
“Oh, his kisses you keep.”
“He didn’t kiss me with a sassy mouth.”
“You know you love it.” Colt started raining kisses on his mother’s cheeks.
“Leave some for the rest of us,” Cole said, pushing Colt out of the way. “Have you met the blushing bride?”
“Not yet, I’ve been talking to Ma. She knows about our upcoming nuptials. And I don’t need that face. Ma won’t say nothing. I’m going to find Cal.”
After an exhausting evening catching up with everyone, they all retired after supper to get ready for the morning activities.
The wedding was beautiful and made Cole and Colt anxious to get back to Storm and Emma. So they left the others as soon as Cal and his bride Rilla retired. They’d ride all night if they had to.
As they climbed aboard their horses. Cole asked. “Do you think we’ll be as happy as Cal and Rilla seem to be?”
“I’m not sure what the future holds for us. But I do know this, the women we’re marrying are more man than you and I will ever be.” Colt laughed.
“Speak for yourself. I’m marrying Emma, remember.”
“Well if you think she’s that much different from Storm, I believe you’re in for a rude awakening, big brother.”
“Either way, let’s just agree, we’ll both have fun finding out.”
They clicked their heels and rode off into the night. They didn’t want to keep Storm and Emma waiting.
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KEEP READING FOR AN EXCERPT FROM THE NEXT BOOK IN THE UNBRIDLED SERIES…
“Love Letters” Excerpt
“I swear Rilla, were I not totally in love and devoted to my dear sweet Thomas, I’d fall head over heels for your dashing brother-in-law Clarkson. Even his name sounds broody and mysterious.”
“Enough, Jewel, you’re with child. You shouldn’t be entertaining such lascivious thoughts.”
“As are you, dear friend. But you don’t have to imagine being with one of the Dalton boys—you have Cal.” Jewel raised a hand to silence whatever response Rilla was about to utter. “You can debase me all you like. But I’m not blind nor am I without desires. Thomas is the love of my life, and I acknowledge this wholeheartedly. That doesn’t exclude me from finding your brothers-in-law, each and every one of them, vibrant and titillating. I fear my poor Thomas pales in comparison. I almost wish we weren’t friends because of it.”
“It pains me to hear you say you would rather we not be friends.”
“Oh, hush now Rilla Dalton, you take me at my words and use them against me, when you know I meant no such thing. Of course I want us to remain friends. I merely speak of the forbiddenness of your brothers-in-law. It makes for an exciting experience, and if I can’t share these thoughts with the one most closest to me—who can I share them with?”
“I’m sorry, Jewel. I think the twins are making me a little more serious than I would like to be.”
“See, even that makes me jealous. I carry one baby while you carry two. Yet you continue to remain as beautiful as ever. While I suspect, I can be paired to that wretched Mrs. Woolum—round, and plump, and ready to burst.”
Rilla laughed. “I declare you are too hard on yourself, when you know the only likeness you share with Mrs. Woolum is the American roses she procures every Tuesday at the farmer’s market.”
“You flatter me with your kind words. Ah, if they were all but true.”
“They are true. You are indeed as beautiful now, the same as always.”
Jewel shifted on her seat. “Let us speak on a less depressing topic. My beauty or lack of it bores me.”
“Excuse me, ladies, I wonder if I can take a moment of your time.”
“Ah, the elusive, Mr Dalton, you are indeed a most welcome distraction. Do you mind awfully if I call you Clarkson?”
“As you wish, Mrs. Archibald.”
“Please, call me Jewel. Are we not friends? Besides, every time I hear the words Mrs. Archibald, I search the room for my blessed mother-in-law.”
“Please, Clarkson, do join us. Should I pour you a beverage?” Rilla asked.
Clarkson hesitated with his hand stuck to the door handle. He should have made his presence known much sooner or knocked before entering. But when he heard his name outside the door, he’d been paralyzed, unable to move, neither forward nor back. Instead, he’d eavesdropped on a very private conversation between two unsuspecting women, outside of his sister-in-law’s private den, and felt ashamed.
It was the rustling of Mrs. Jewel’s taffeta which spurred him forward. His sister-in-law seemed to favor the less bulky attire of some of the European women he’d come into contact with. Jewel’s crackling movement was his reason for braving the barrier between them and opening the door, along with the fear that Mrs. Jewel would openly reveal any more of her desires in respect to his person.
“No, please, Rilla, my dear sister, remain seated. I’m not such an invalid that I cannot pour my own glass. My troubles are of
the mind, not of the limbs. I’m very capable. I owe you and Cal so much. I won’t be accused of having my brother’s pregnant wife wait on me.”
“If it pleases you, Clarkson, do help yourself.”
“Thank you, I think I will.”
Clarkson stepped farther into the room and approached the table hosting the pitcher of lemonade. He poured himself a glass and took a seat opposite the two women.
“I really hate to impose like this, but in the absence of Cal, I have no other sounding board. I wouldn’t have interrupted your visit with Mrs. Jewel—”
“Jewel, is more than enough.”
“I’m sorry, with Jewel, if it wasn’t a matter that could not wait.”
“What is it?” Rilla asked.
“I was out in the garden, and I heard some of the workers talking about a ranch, not ten miles from here, which is up for sale. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome, which has been an appreciable length of imposition on you and my brother. As time is of the essence, I feel I must venture out on my own. The owner is looking for a quick sale, and I’m at a loss if I should make an offer or not.”
“Do you know anything about ranching?” Jewel asked.
“Well, no. But I’ve made the necessary inquiries and the ranch comes fully equipped with employees and a housekeeper.”
“Is this what you want?” Rilla asked.
“Quite honestly, I don’t know what I want. With the war being over, I feel less than useless.”
Not that he felt entirely useful during the war, with his untimely capture and luxurious imprisonment, while being fearfully protected by his father’s brother, Uncle Marcellus.
“I fear I shall not be returning to Charleston, as I will no longer feel comfortable there, considering my capture and the circumstances surrounding said capture. I have done nothing I can be proud of and would feel a fraud were they to offer me a hero’s welcome. I can never go home again.”
“Then I think you should do it,” Jewel said. “It will be a new start—a clean slate, so to speak.”
“I agree with Jewel. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by such a change of environment. It’s important for a man to exert his independence.”
“Then I shall do it. Thank you, ladies, you have confirmed what I’ve been thinking. I will go and make the necessary arrangements.” Clarkson rose and walked toward the door, his decision made. As he drew closer to the exit, he paused with his hand on the door knob. Another thought struck him. He stopped and turned to face the women once more.
“Maybe you can help me make up my mind with another more delicate matter. I feel as women; you may better understand my position.”
“Ask away.” Jewel clapped and bobbed in her seat with excitement. “Oh, this is most exciting. I feel like an oracle giving sage advice and enriching the lives of others.”
“Be still, Jewel. Please, Clarkson, take a seat and tell us what you need.”
Clarkson made his way back to the seat he’d vacated, only the journey back seemed much longer than before. He sat and cleared his throat. He rubbed clammy hands along his lap. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Just saying it in his head made him feel like an imbecile. He had a duty to honor a commitment made, regardless of how long ago it was or whether times were different then. He may well be a changed man by the war, and his lack of being a part of it, but he had made a promise—one he was duty bound to keep.
He had to choose his words most carefully, lest these women see him as a charlatan and lose all respect for him. Then again, they couldn’t lose as much respect for him as he had for himself. In his own eyes, he was a coward, who had sat out the war in the lap of luxury while his men fought and died bravely. If there was ever a time he wished the family resemblance did not exist, it was when he was found unconscious and lying in a ditch. He was recognized by the Union soldier who’d found him, and had taken him directly to his uncle.
“Well, what did you want to ask?” Jewel asked, a note of impatience in her voice.
Beads of sweat poured from Clarkson’s brow. He leaped to his feet. “Perhaps another time. I really should go and see to that purchase.”
He was out the door before the women could respond.
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About the Author
Sandra E. Sinclair is a dreamer and hopeless romantic. Sandra grew up in London, England where the skies are often gray and the streets could be cleaner. However, she doesn’t let this dampen her spirits. She loves her hometown and considers herself a true-blue Londoner, who is happy to find her sunshine overseas, and she does as often as she can. It’s through traveling abroad that she finds her inspiration for her stories.
Her stories are designed to elicit every emotion in her readers. You will laugh, cry, be shocked, and titillated. The one thing you won’t be, is bored.
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Copyright © 2016 by Sandra E. Sinclair
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This book is a work of fiction, all the names, characters, places and incidents presented are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.