by Jill Gregory
“Love,” Annabel insisted.
He glanced quickly at her again, then looked beyond through the window, toward the gardens Livinia had loved. “I would like to think so,” he repeated.
“Go on, Father,” Cade said quietly.
Ross McCallum’s gaze shifted to Brett, sitting tense and silent on the sofa. “When she told me that you were going to be born, Brett, we both knew you couldn’t have been my son. I’d been away for two months on business. She was frantic, terrified to tell me, but unable to keep her secret any longer. I was devastated when she told me about Frank Boxer—I loved her, you see.” His tone was low, filled with pain. “More than anyone except—Cade. And then Brett.”
Silence fell in the library, but for the bluebird chattering outside the window.
“What happened when she told you?” Brett asked quietly. Annabel ached for him. He was sitting very still, trying to keep his shame, his sorrow under control.
“She begged my forgiveness and ... well, I gave it to her. You needn’t know the whole scene. I told her we would raise the child together and put her ... indiscretion behind us. Then she informed me of the worst, the most vile part.” His voice hardened, sounding so much like Cade’s that Annabel started. “She told me that when she’d informed Boxer she was carrying his child, he was delighted. But not for the reason she’d hoped. He planned to blackmail me—to blackmail both of us, really—to force me to pay him an enormous sum of money to keep from spreading the scandal around the town. That bastard cared nothing for her shame or humiliation, nor did it weigh with him that he was destroying the woman who had thought she loved him. No, he wanted nothing of her or the child—except to enrich himself by using them both.”
“Why didn’t you kill him then?” Brett exploded, jumping up from the sofa, “He deserved to be shot!”
“No.” Cade stepped forward, his face very grim. “Horsewhipped. And then shot.”
“I agree with you.” Ross nodded at his older son.
As Annabel glanced around the room at three pairs of McCallum eyes all glinting with fury, she grieved for them all.
“But for your mother’s sake, I couldn’t risk even a hint of scandal,” Ross continued bitterly. He started to pace again, his steps slow and heavy. “I chose what I felt was the safest, quietest route. I paid Boxer his filthy money and he left town. But a year later he came back.”
“Yes, so he said.” Brett told his father then of the version Boxer had given him of the story, of how he claimed to have begged Livinia to come away with him, to take her son and leave her husband.
“He lied,” Ross said flatly. “The son of a bitch never wanted her—or you. I’m sorry to tell you that, son, but ... it’s time we heard the full and awful truth. He only came back for more money. But this time he got something he didn’t bargain for.” He raked a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “The only problem was, it didn’t save Livinia. Her heart was broken, her spirit destroyed. No matter how I tried to console her after that, even with Boxer gone from our lives, she couldn’t look me in the eye without weeping. She couldn’t seem to recover from the nightmare he put her through. But Brett, there is something else, something you must know.”
Brett stared at him, waiting.
Annabel held her breath.
“I wanted you, son,” Ross McCallum said slowly, meeting Brett’s gaze intently. “From the first day she told me about you, I was determined to raise you as my own son—right along with Cade. And once you were born, there was no doubt, none at all. I found that it was easy to ... love you ... and I was more determined than ever to teach you and care for you as my own.” He cleared his throat but even still his next words came out thick with emotion. “And to this day, I do.”
Brett’s eyes filmed with tears. “I know, Father,” he said in a choked voice. “I think I always knew. But I was too stunned and too angry and too humiliated to see straight and ...”
He never finished. He walked straight into Ross McCallum’s arms and for the first time that Annabel ever remembered, the two men embraced.
Annabel’s heart leaped with happiness for them, yet at the same time pain stabbed through her as she saw Cade standing alone, watching his father and brother. An outsider.
Suddenly, Ross pulled back from Brett to stare hard at his oldest son. “Come here, boy,” he ordered. “I’ve waited thirteen years for this. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
She held her breath, wondering what he would do, if pride and a stubborn inbred toughness would keep him rooted to the spot, apart from his family. And then Cade was in the circle of arms, embracing, being embraced, and Annabel wept silent tears of joy as she sat unmoving upon the sofa. She started to get up, to slip out of the room and leave them to their reunion in privacy, but Ross McCallum’s voice stopped her.
“Get over here, Annabel Brannigan,” he commanded, and she ran to them, half laughing and half crying, and hugged them each in turn. Cade’s arm stayed tight around her waist.
“Father, you have met Annabel Brannigan. But you haven’t met the future Mrs. Cade McCallum.”
Dumbfounded, Annabel could only stare at him. “Neither ... have I,” she managed to sputter. “Unless ... you mean ...”
“Of course I do.” Cade shook his head in exasperation at the incredulity he saw in her eyes. “For a private investigator, sweetheart, you’re not too perceptive ... about certain things. Or are you trying to say I haven’t made my intentions clear?”
Ross frowned, his heavy brows drawing together. “Do you mean to tell me that this is the way you choose to propose to this young lady? Just like that, with your father and your brother looking on, and no wooing, no vows of love or words of passion, only this cavalier announcement? Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, boy?”
“Start over, big brother,” Brett advised, and winked at Annabel. “Try a little romantic persuasion.”
“No ... no, I don’t need a romantic proposal ... I accept!”
“Don’t do it, young lady. Make him beg you first,” Ross said, shaking his head.
Cade regarded them all in amusement, then seized Annabel’s hand, squeezing it tight within his own larger one. “Hell, it looks like I’m going to have to do just that. Can’t have anyone saying we didn’t do this the right and proper way.”
With that, he began dragging her toward the garden. “I’m sure you’ll excuse us ...”
But just then there came a pounding on the front door. Cade kept ahold of Annabel’s hand, but waited with Brett as his father went to answer it. A moment later, Ross McCallum stuck his head back into the library.
“There’s a peddler fellow here to see you, Cade,” he reported in some amusement. “A Mr. Banks. He’s most ... determined. Said something about an accident ... his wagon overturning and some promise you made ... but perhaps I should have him come back later ...”
“Damn, I forgot. No, Father, wait. I’ll see him in the study.” Cade turned back to Annabel and pressed a kiss to her hand before he released it. “I promised the peddler whose wagon collided with Boxer’s carriage last night that I’d reimburse him for any damages. Let me get this out of the way. I’ll wager that the owner of the wagon I stole to chase after Boxer will be by soon, too. Reckon we’ll ever have any time alone together?”
“We’d better. I have a proposal coming to me. You know this is very unorthodox,” she informed him primly. “Mr. Clyde Perkins and Mr. Joseph Reed and Mr. Hugh Connely didn’t conduct their proposals this way.”
He grasped her by the shoulders. “I’m getting pretty tired of hearing about those three hombres. By the time I’ve finished with my proposal, you won’t even be able to remember their names.”
Her eyes danced with anticipation. “I can hardly wait.”
“It won’t be long.” He kissed her on the tip of her nose before heading toward the hall.
“You know,” Ross McCallum said thoughtfully, after Cade had left the room. “I always thought you and Brett might someday m
ake a match of it. You two were always as close as two spoons in a pie.”
“I reckon I let Cade get the jump on me, Father.” Brett put an arm around her shoulders and then gently, playfully tugged at one of her curls. “But I realize now I’ll have to look far and wide to find a girl like Annabel.”
“She’s too good for the both of you,” Ross informed him baldly, and walked over to the tall bookcase where the novels were displayed. “Do you remember that time I found you in here in the middle of the night, Annabel, with snow piling up at the windows, while you wept over that book ... what was it?”
“Jane Eyre. I was twelve and had never read anything so romantic and so sad in my life.”
“Yes, well ... we had a conversation then, you and I, and I began to realize what an intelligent little creature you were. You haven’t disappointed me. I admire how cleverly you put the pieces of the puzzle together and figured out exactly what Frank Boxer was up to. I’m pleased. Between the two of you, you and Cade should produce some very perspicacious children. Your sons will make fine additions to the family business.”
“Father, don’t you think you should let Cade propose to her before you start talking about your grandchildren?” Brett grinned.
Ross shrugged. “Annabel doesn’t mind. Do you, my dear?”
“Why, no, of course not.”
“See? Never met a more frank, down to earth, easy to please kind of girl. You’d do well to start searching for someone like her, Brett. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
“See what I have to put up with? Right about now, the New Mexico territory is starting to look pretty good to me,” Brett whispered in her ear.
She grinned back at him, glad to see that Brett was back to his usual good-natured self. As he and Ross McCallum began discussing business strategies for repairing the damages inflicted by Boxer, she glanced impatiently toward the library door. She couldn’t wait for Cade to return. She wanted to hear this proposal of his. It would have to be some pretty speech to make her forget the flowery phrases of Mr. Perkins, Mr. Reed, and Mr. Connely. Annabel was certain she was going to enjoy it immensely.
What could be keeping Cade?
“You don’t think he’s having second thoughts, do you?” she asked aloud, without even realizing she had spoken.
Ross and Brett burst into laughter. “Not judging by the way he’s been looking at you all morning,” the older man snorted.
“Why don’t you wait for him in the garden?” Brett suggested with a sympathetic smile. “We’ll send him out there as soon as he shows up.”
They had business to discuss, she was restless, and the sunshine beckoned, so she slipped away to find the perfect idyllic spot to receive her proposal of marriage.
* * *
Mr. Jonah E. Banks beamed at Cade as he stuffed his billfold back inside his trouser pockets. “Thank you, Mr. McCallum. You’ve been most generous. This will surely cover the repairs to my wagon. I’m glad you were able to catch up to that scoundrel, whoever he was. That fellow had no business racing down the middle of the road that way with no regard for anyone ...”
As he pushed the billfold all the way down into his pocket, a pouch fell out. An assortment of rings and brooches and stickpins tumbled out of it onto the floor in a clatter of winking color.
The peddler knelt down, sighing. “Pardon me, sir. It’ll only be a moment ... how clumsy of me ...”
But as the stoop-shouldered old peddler gathered up his treasures, Cade happened to glance down and saw something glinting at his own feet.
“Wait.”
He bent quickly and retrieved the object. His mouth went dry as he looked at it.
It was a brooch. Not just any brooch, but a gold and ruby brooch in the shape of a rose, outlined all in pearls.
It looked exactly as Annabel had described her mother’s brooch.
“Where did you get this?”
The man stood up and scratched his head. “Ah, that one. Lovely, isn’t it? To tell you the truth, I can’t rightly remember. Seems to me some young ruffian traded it to me years ago—always had the suspicion he had stolen it. Funny thing is, I don’t usually show it much to folks. Never really cared about selling it.” He shrugged, looking somewhat sheepish. “I kind of fancy it. Don’t know why, but ...” As he stuffed the pouch of little treasures back in his pocket his faded blue eyes studied the man holding the brooch. “You feel it, too, don’t you, sir? Something special about that one. Well, if you’d like it, I’ll sell it to you.”
Cade turned the brooch over in his palm and read the finely etched inscription on the back. For S. Love forever, N.
His hand closed possessively around it.
“Mr. Banks,” he said, trying to keep the excitement from his voice, “name your price.”
Chapter 29
“I have something for you.”
“I know. A proposal. You may start anytime.”
Cade chuckled as he sat beside Annabel on the white stone bench beside the pond, his knee brushing against hers. He was all too aware of the brooch burning a hole in his pocket. He couldn’t wait to give it to her, to see her face when she realized what it was, but maybe he’d better start with the proposal and build up to his surprise. First things first. Only trouble was, now that he was out here alone with her, damned if he knew how to start.
“You know that I love you ...” he began, but she interrupted him, clasping both his hands in hers.
“Tell me,” she begged, her eyes sparkling.
“I love you.”
“Silly. How much?”
“Mucho,” he tried, feeling sweat beginning to form on his brow and knowing that any moment it would trickle down his forehead.
She frowned. “Mr. Perkins said he loved me more than anything in this world. And Mr. Reed said ...”
He seized her by the shoulders. “Not one more word about them,” he threatened. “Or I’ll have to show you how much I love you here and now.”
“Really?” She drew in a deep breath and gazed at him hopefully. “Promise?”
Cade laughed, but he was beginning to feel a little desperate. Then he remembered something. He went down on one knee before her. “I know I’m doing this part right,” he muttered.
“Oh, you’re doing just fine,” she assured him, her fingers closing tightly around his. “I didn’t mean to discourage you ... only to encourage you ...”
“Annabel.” There was desperation in the look he threw her. “I don’t know how to be ... romantic. I’ve lived alone for so long, and spent most of my time riding or fighting or shooting ... Hell, I don’t know the first thing about being ... you know ... gentle.”
“Yes.” She caressed his cheek. “You do.”
Cade only shook his head, his dark bronzed face filled with doubt. “I don’t know how to be a ... a husband. How to love a woman the way she should be loved. I’ve never tried any of this before, and to tell you the truth, I’m more scared of all this than of meeting ten desperadoes without any ammunition in my guns. If I’m rotten at this ... this marriage thing you’re the one who’s going to suffer.”
Annabel’s eyes, brimming with laughter before, now grew wide and somber with a loving compassion that flowed through her like rustling silk. “The only one who is suffering is you, my darling Cade,” she whispered back, and sank to her knees beside him, so that they both knelt facing each other in the soft fragrant grass. “Don’t you know how wonderful you are, how kind and, yes, gentle, and special? I feel safer, more protected and loved with you than I’ve ever felt before ... ever,” she cried fiercely. “I’d rather be in a cave with you, or out on a mountaintop under the stars, than in the grandest castle in all of Europe. You’re the man I want, the man I need. I’m not afraid of you; I told you that once and it’s true. Why, I’ve never met a man easier to twist around my little finger and—”
“Wait a minute,” he ordered sternly. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
“Well, if you don’t
want to hear what I have to say, you’d best just go ahead and finish asking me what you’re planning to ask me and then you can kiss me and it’ll all be settled between us.”
“You sure talk more than any woman I ever met.”
She was unbuttoning the top button of his shirt as she answered him, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “It bothers you, darling?”
“No, it doesn’t bother me. Kind of ... soothes me, matter of fact. I guess that means it’ll be kind of soothing having you around for the rest of my life.”
“Well, you won’t if you don’t pluck up your courage, Cade McCallum, and just ask me ...”
Suddenly, he tugged her back up and plopped her onto the bench, then dropped once more to one knee. “We’re doing this right, damn it, so it’s official. I don’t want you telling me later that I didn’t do it right, that Mr. Perkins’s proposal was much more impressive.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she murmured. “That would hurt your feelings, and I would never—”
“Annabel, there’s a time to talk and a time to be quiet. This is a time to be quiet.”
“Yes, Cade,” she said faintly, suddenly awed by the determination upon his face. Here in this garden, surrounded by graceful statuary, flowers, pear trees, and little singing bluebirds that whisked above the silver pond, she thought he had never looked so rugged, so devastatingly handsome, and suddenly the lighthearted mood left her and she realized she couldn’t speak a word if she tried.
“Annabel,” Cade said, holding both her hands in his and gazing deeply, intently into her eyes. “Will you do me the great and incomparable honor of becoming my beloved wife?”
Tears formed behind her eyelids. She opened her mouth to answer, but the words caught in her throat. As the tears began to pool in her eyes, she managed to nod vehemently, and threw her arms around his neck.