Mary Connealy

by Montana Marriages Trilogy

  “They’re fine, Belle.” Silas got off his knees and cut off her rising panic. He knew just how she felt. “I rode through most of them getting here. We’ll check on them in a minute, but I didn’t see any sign of trouble.”

  Belle looked at the steers scattered in the woodlands around the stream and shook her head as if to knock away the last vestiges of sleep. “I can’t believe I did that. Anything could have happened. The whole herd could have been rustled. Someone could have come up to the camp and killed all of you in your sleep. The cattle could have trampled you all to death without—”

  “Stop!” Silas grabbed her shoulders. “Stop making things up to panic about. None of that happened. We’re fine. And we all needed the rest. I haven’t slept a night through in probably twenty years. I wake up a couple of times an hour no matter where I am. I should have known something was wrong hours ago. But we got away with it, Belle. We’ll start making shorter days of it and resting up a day every chance we get. The drive will take a few days longer, but it won’t matter. You’re smart enough and tough enough to know we can’t go back and stay awake last night. So what’s the sense of getting all twisted up about it?”

  “Tough.” Belle laughed. “I guess you could say I’m tough.”

  “A woman would have to be to live the life you’ve lived, survive all you’ve survived.”

  “And I’ve thrived with it.”

  “You’ve done a lot better than your husbands, I’d say. How’d you find your way to this rugged place anyway?”

  Chuckling, Belle rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “You want to know how I ended up here, way out in the wild, living alone.”

  “Your husbands died. Your worthless husbands. Your girls told me too much about it that first night.”

  “They didn’t tell you the half of it.” Belle smiled. “My ranch sits in the most beautiful mountain valley God ever put on this earth. William, my first husband, claimed one hundred and sixty acres of that valley. Gerald claimed another one hundred and sixty because I nagged him until he did it.”

  “Gerald’s the one the girls said hit—”

  “I don’t talk about Gerald much.” Belle cut Silas off and pulled away from him, crossing her arms tight. “Makes me want to grab for my shootin’ iron, but yeah, he’s the one.”

  “I’d like to grab for my shootin’ iron myself.” His fingers itched with the wanting. Or maybe they itched because he missed holding on to Belle. “How many husbands are you up to now?”

  “Anthony was third and last. I had to browbeat him until he claimed a hundred and sixty acres. I selected each claim, and they are sitting square on top of the richest grasslands and most reliable springs west of the Colorado River. Plus, now I’ve got use of thousands more acres because I’ve got the only water, making it useless to anyone else. All rugged mountainside, but there’s feed enough to keep my cows thriving. I’d say I control around twenty thousand acres all told.”

  Staggered by the amount, Silas looked at the husky, lazy cattle—not as fat as when they started but a good, healthy herd. “Sure enough looks like they’re thriving.”

  “I own three thousand head of fine longhorn cattle.” Belle’s arms relaxed, and she leaned against the tree she’d been sleeping beside. “I built the herd up from the fifty William and I herded into Montana along the Boseman Trail. We came out here a couple of years after the 1862 Gold Rush. I had the bright idea all those men hunting gold’d get almighty hungry. And there stood underpriced beef in Colorado just begging to be pushed into the mountains.”

  “Pushed.” Silas laughed. “Probably as backbreaking as this drive.”

  “It was tough and a lot longer, but with only fifty head it was nothing like this.”

  “So William wasn’t so bad of a husband then?”

  “None of this was his idea.” Belle snorted. “It was mine and mine alone. And with all the knowledge I’d gained growing up in Texas working alongside Pa, we prospered.”

  “Why didn’t you just stay there with your family in Texas?”

  Belle frowned, clearly annoyed by the question. “For the first fifteen years of my life, Pa made do without a son. My ma wasn’t well and spent most of her days ailing, so Pa let me tag after him. He shared all his know-how with me, figuring it would all be mine someday. When I was about thirteen, Ma up and died. Pa’s second wife was a spoiled, vain thing that didn’t know the kickin’ end of a horse from the bitin’ end. But she did manage to present Pa with a son. The boy was born about six months after William and I got married. We’d gone into it thinking William would step in for Pa and run his ranch. Now, with a son, William and I were just in the way.”

  “Your pa threw you out?” Silas had never had a pa, not one he’d known and met, but the thought of a daughter being cast aside disgusted him.

  Scowling, Belle nodded. “Without a second thought. William married me thinking Pa’s land was part of the deal. But with a son and heir, even though the ink had barely dried on the marriage license, Pa showed me the road. He gave me a pat on my pretty little head, two hundred and fifty dollars—called it my inheritance—and let me take my clothes.”

  “What about William? Couldn’t he find work in Texas? Why’d he drag you to Montana of all places?”

  “William never had much of a backbone, and he wasn’t one to work if it could be avoided. Since I seemed to be the strong-minded one in the family, William just trailed along with whatever I decided. Well, I was mad as a rabid Texas sidewinder and out to prove I didn’t need Pa to make my way. So we headed for Colorado and spent every penny of my pa’s money, plus every other penny I’d saved, on cattle. Then we herded them to Montana.”

  “I can’t believe if William was so lazy he went along. Didn’t he know what working a ranch was like?”

  Belle shrugged. “What he knew was he wanted to put half a continent betwixt him and the War Between the States. That was enough to keep him moving west. Once we got to Montana and filed a claim, William discovered a troublesome back—or no, that was Anthony.” Belle seemed to hunt around inside her head awhile then give up. “Well, both of them were laid up for one reason or another. I had to build our cabin, and even though I did a terrible job, William didn’t help. He probably knew less about building than I did. I dammed up a creek and cleared brush and built fence. In an act of spite, I registered our herd brand as the Lazy S, but William never seemed to get that.”

  Silas had to laugh.

  “The cattle thrived. The roof leaked. Two babies were born. And then William ran afoul of Rudolph and I hauled him up to the Husband Tree and buried him.”

  “The Husband Tree, Belle? Shame on you.” Silas rolled his eyes.

  Defensively, Belle said, “We didn’t exactly name it that. It’s just…what it is. So we call it that. You’re the one who asked to hear all this.”

  “You’re right. Go on.” Scrubbing his whiskered face to keep from saying more, Silas smiled behind his hands.

  “A new husband joined the family. Sarah’s pa. Gerald O’Rourke sat on the porch and contemplated his whiskey supply and nurtured his annoyance at all the injustices that had been done to him in his life, whilst I learned to dodge drunken fists and increased the herd by hunting down mavericks running wild in the high-up hills.”

  “Gerald.” Silas lost any urge he had to laugh.

  “Then with Gerald just barely finished twitchin’ from his untimely horse ride, I had a brain spasm I’m still kicking myself for and found myself married to Anthony.”

  “Which all just proves you’re tough. So why are you so mad at yourself for sleeping through one night? What difference does it make if we slow down covering this trail? We can rest up. A few days more won’t matter.”

  “Yes, it will matter,” Belle snapped. “For one thing, heavy snow could come at any time. It can snow year-round in these mountains, but the heavy snows haven’t started yet. The first one will block these passes, and they won’t open up again until spring. I’m not feeling pushed to get
to Helena so much as I’m feeling pushed to get home. My herd will be food for the wolves if I’m not there to bring ’em down closer to the cabin. The pond freezes over, and I need to take the ax to it and keep it open. I can’t risk being snowed out of my ranch. I can feel winter in the air. The first storm could come any day.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean—”

  “For another thing,” Belle interrupted, “we are already stopping at every half-decent camp we find. There just aren’t that many. Once we start out for the day, the place we’re going to stop at is already set. We can’t hold this herd on one of those dangerous mountain trails overnight, and you know it. So having shorter days isn’t possible.”

  “Belle, we’re going to be fine. We’re almost—”

  “I should never have tried this. I didn’t realize how much the herd had increased this spring. A bunch of older cattle moved up into the highest valley. I don’t check that pasture very often because it’s an overnight ride, and Betsy was newborn and I just couldn’t cut it. I didn’t want to let the girls go alone, and I just plain didn’t feel up to making the trip.” She fisted her hands as if she were ready to begin punching herself for her weakness.

  Silas couldn’t stand it when Belle got in one of these infernal female moods. She was tough and game and made of nothing but gristle and nerve. “Belle, honey, now—”

  “When that grass wore out in the late summer, I was surprised to see how many cattle were coming to the lowlands from that way. A lot of yearlings that weren’t branded. I had no idea the herd had thrived so. I rode up and was shocked. I not only undercounted, I was planning on that high grass for my herd this winter. I realized I couldn’t feed them. I was sloppy.”

  “You have ten times the courage of any man I’ve ever known. And then you go and pull this female stuff.” Maybe if he could make her mad at him instead of herself, she’d calm down. She seemed to enjoy hollering at him.

  “I cut corners.”

  She hadn’t even reacted to his reminding her she was a female. This was serious.

  “I took the easy way out, and now I’m risking my girls’ lives on this trail drive and—”

  “Belle, you are the toughest woman—no, no, who am I kidding—the toughest person I’ve ever known.”

  She jabbed him in the chest, which was a good sign. “I wasn’t tough enough to check—”

  “Then you go and start beating on yourself—”

  “My own herd, and I’m honest enough to admit when I—”

  “For not working hard enough and before I know it, I’m—”

  CHAPTER 12

  Kissing her.

  Silas was kissing her.

  Belle didn’t even fight him when he pulled her into his arms. Honestly, she moved toward him the second she saw that fire in his eyes. And she didn’t know how to judge such things, but she was pretty sure she got to his lips before he got to hers. Except that wasn’t possible, because their lips got to each other at the same second and they stayed together with the full cooperation of both parties involved.

  Silas’s hands pulled her firmly against him. Belle didn’t stop him. In truth, she grabbed ahold, tight, and hung on like it could be forever. Stopping him was the furthest thing from her mind.

  “Breakfast is ready, you two.” Sarah did it for her. “Knock it off and come eat.”

  Silas staggered back.

  Belle whirled around. Sarah’s horse nudged Belle’s shoulder. Sarah had ridden right up to them, and Belle had never noticed. Belle’s knees sagged, and she had to grab the saddle horn on Sarah’s horse to hold herself up.

  Silas moved again, and Belle looked over her shoulder to see he’d backed away about ten yards. Their eyes met, and his were wild. He turned away and ran both hands through his hair with a motion that spoke of the depths of his frustration.

  Belle knew just how he felt.

  “Ma, should you be kissing a man you’re not married to that-away?” Sarah’s face creased into a worried frown.

  Belle shook her head back and forth slowly. With complete honesty and a husky voice she didn’t recognize, she said, “Absolutely not.”

  “Then why are you doing it, Ma? If you do it, it must be okay, ‘cuz you wouldn’t do anything that was bad. So—”

  “Sarah?” Silas cut in, still with his back to them.

  “Yeah?” She sounded vulnerable and confused.

  Belle braced herself to repair the damage of whatever ridiculous excuse Silas might have for their behavior.

  “Give your ma a ride back to camp. I’ll catch up her horse and my own and be right in. We’re giving the cattle a day to rest up.” And themselves, but Silas didn’t admit that out loud. “And Sarah?”

  “Yeah?”

  Silas turned so he could look in Sarah’s eyes. “Your ma is right. We shouldn’t have oughta been kissing like that.” Silas sighed deeply then forged on. “That’s for two people who are married, or soon to be married, and no one else. I was worried about your ma because she didn’t wake me for my turn riding herd. I found her asleep out here. For a minute I was plumb scared that she’d been hurt. Then when she was okay, well, I kinda got carried away because I was so…relieved. And that kiss, well, it shouldn’t have happened, but it did. And it was wrong of me, and it won’t happen again, because we are not going to get married. I apologize to you and your ma.”

  Belle listened to his neat little explanation with growing anger. With a sharp twist of dismay, she realized that when she’d decided letting Silas kiss her was too tempting to resist, she’d also known she was accepting the idea that she’d take the leap again and get married to the confounded man. But it didn’t sound like Silas was interested. She’d known plenty of men who wanted what Silas wanted but weren’t interested in offering marriage. And every one of them was a low-down, dirty, stinking polecat. And she’d slapped every one of them down hard.

  Listening to Silas brush aside what had passed between them with his fumbling apology was humiliating, because while he’d been playing a man’s game, she’d been falling in love.

  Falling in love with Silas?

  No!

  Belle had been down the husband road too many times. She had learned that marriage was, at its most basic, a business deal. It took two people to make a baby. It took two people to run a home. She had the babies to prove the first. And Belle had survived when the scoundrels had disproved the second. But just because her husbands hadn’t come through for her didn’t mean it wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. People got married for sensible reasons, and if they were lucky, they’d have some affection for each other and call it love. But it wasn’t required. It wasn’t even good, especially if one had affection and the other didn’t.

  Belle knew without a doubt she’d never felt anything close to love for her husbands. She’d thought she cared for William, but that had died on the vine shortly after their marriage when William realized he was getting a few hundred dollars instead of a ranch.

  A husband had his rights in marriage, and she’d endured it when she couldn’t think of a way to take the starch out of ’em. That was part of the business of being married.

  But love? Love! What if she’d loved her husbands and then they’d treated her so badly? Remembering Gerald’s fists, remembering the way Anthony had abandoned her to her fate when she’d gone into labor on the trail…the hurt was staggering and she hadn’t cared a whit for either man. If she’d have loved them, it would have destroyed her.

  Just listening to Silas say there would be no marriage between them was breaking her heart.

  My heart will not be involved, Lord. Please protect me from love.

  Her backbone stiffened. It was not breaking her heart. She wouldn’t love Silas. She wouldn’t love anyone! She’d been thinking she’d marry him, but that was another matter altogether from love. And now it looked like he thought Belle was one of those women who…who would be willing to be with a man…share passion with a man…because Silas’s kisses were
more passion that she’d ever felt with a man. And he thought they’d share such without wedding vows.

  Realizing that stung badly. Tears burned Belle’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “Let’s go, Sarah.”

  Sarah studied Silas for a minute before she clucked gently to her horse and removed Belle from temptation yet again. They rode back to the camp in silence.

  Silas watched after the two womenfolk until the herd swallowed them up. Then he stared sightlessly at the T Bar cattle.

  Belle.

  He couldn’t be around her. He couldn’t stay here knowing how she responded to him. He couldn’t stay.

  And he couldn’t leave.

  He thought back to Lulamae and knew now the sheer depths of the little liar’s sham desire for him. She’d held him tight, and he’d believed she welcomed a kiss—until her pa came in. But compared to the way Belle melted in his arms …

  Silas turned away from the steers and tried to gather his senses. He looked around for his horse, and at his shrill whistle, it and Belle’s black gelding ambled over to meet him. He didn’t mount up but instead led them along while he headed for camp on foot. He didn’t want to go back and face the hen posse that might be shaking out a loop and looking for a low-hanging branch right this minute.

  There’d be a new kind of Husband Tree for this crew.

  More than that, he didn’t want to see the confused look on Sarah’s face as she asked him about men and women and whether her ma was being good or bad. Silas shook his head in disgust. He had more to think about on this trip than how warm and passionate Belle Tanner was. How warm and passionate and vulnerable and beautiful and strong and tired—

  He shook his head again. He had four little girls to think about. Their welfare had to be his first priority. And taking care of Belle was important, too. But he was not getting married. He didn’t trust women, and Belle was one of the orneriest critters he’d ever seen, even if she was a different sort.