“But, Ma, we paid for the wagons out o’ the family’s earnings.”
“When we first came, we lived on the charity o’ the traveling folk. You know it was months before we had our own tent. We had to borrow from the communal funds to buy our first wagon, and it took us a long time to pay back the money. He’ll use that to say the wagons are owed the folk. If the others disagree, we’ll be sure to have a mysterious fire once we’re gone and lose everything.”
Cenora had heard whispers about Williams’s revenge and knew her ma spoke the truth. “Surely there’s another answer besides a forced marriage to a stranger.”
“Lass, you’re the oldest unmarried woman in the group, and most your age have several tykes. It’s been four months since Tom’s second wife died, bless her soul.” Ma made the sign of the cross for Colleen’s spirit. “We’ve used my illness as an excuse to keep you safe from him as long as we can.”
Cenora suppressed the shiver Williams’s attentions always aroused. He’d made advances long before his wife died, but Cenora hadn’t told anyone for fear of what he’d do to retaliate if her father or brothers challenged him about it. He was bigger than the men in her family were, and he always had those two huge kin of his ready to help. She avoided being alone with him, but sometimes he sneaked up on her.
She pushed away thoughts of those encounters to reason with her mother. “But Ma, it was not all bluster. You are very ill.”
“Aye, and growing weaker all the time. I can’t make it through the day now without a bit of a rest each morn and afternoon and more and more o’ me laudanum. But that only makes it more important to get you settled and away from Tom Williams.”
Cenora frowned. “I remember the whispers when his Bridget died six years ago. She’d always had bruises a plenty, and her supposed fall was too much like a beating. And then he remarried in a flash to that pretty Colleen.”
Ma met her gaze. “She didn’t stay pretty long, not with his rough treatment.”
“Ma, ‘tis true he and Mort and Augie are fearsome, but I don’t understand why none o’ the men confronted him. Sure and if they banded together they could oust him.”
“Your da spoke against him when his poor Bridget died, but Williams denied any wrongdoing. Then, he caught your da alone and threatened that he and his two cronies would burn us out and send us packing with only the clothes on our backs for maligning him.”
“Oh-h-h, Ma, I didn’t know that. ‘Tis no wonder then that no one spoke out when Colleen died the same way.”
Her mother nodded. “All of the traveling folks knew the cause, but none dared speak against the man—not even your da. ‘Tis the law a man can hit his wife, so there was nothing to be done. But you can be sure there were whispers, and your da and I vowed to protect you from the same fate.”
Cenora sobbed into her hands. “I wish he’d never set his sights on me.”
“Aye, but he has, for sure, and you’re the prettiest woman in the group, or anywhere else for that matter.”
“O’ course you’d think so, for I’m your daughter.” Cenora sniffed and rubbed at her wet cheeks.
“No, lass, ‘tis not only that I love you and you’re me daughter. ‘Tis glad I am you’re not over vain, but you should know your beauty is such it sets you apart from most women.”
Cenora thought of the beautiful women they’d seen in their travels, their fancy dresses and elaborate hairstyles peeking from beneath their bonnets. She looked at the plain dress Ma had laid out and knew she couldn’t compare to them, but sure and her own loving mother wouldn’t see that.
“Maureen and Vourneen are too close in kin for him to wed. Though there’s talk that wouldn’t stop him, and ‘tis why his sister’s lad Augie looks so much like him.”
Cenora gasped. “Are you meaning Williams forced himself on Peggy, his own sister?”
“Aye, ‘tis what most think, so you see ‘tis no wonder the McDonalds have no love for Williams even if he is kin.”
“That explains the five years’ difference between Augie and Vourneen.” Cenora hugged her arms against shivers of revulsion at this news.
“Ah, lass, I’ve seen Williams’ face when you sing and dance for the crowds. ‘Tis fair under your spell he is.”
“If that’s true, Ma, I’ll never sing or dance again. I promise I’ll keep right by your side or in the wagon. Already I avoid him at every turn.” Akh, she’d almost told Ma too much.
Ma shook her head and looked sorrowful. “If only it was that easy. Williams is already besotted with you, curse his black soul. He won’t rest ‘til you’re his. So, to my way o’ thinking, this young stranger has been sent to us by all the saints in answer to me prayers to rescue you from that brute’s clutches.”
She made the sign of the cross before she added, “Thanks be to God for His mercy. ‘Tis a good thing I lighted those candles in that San Antonio chapel.”
Fear of Williams washed over Cenora, and as always, she tried to push it aside. Another shudder wracked her at the thought of the brutish leader’s beefy hands on her skin. “Ma, I know I’d gag if Williams kissed me. Those heated stares he sends me way make me long to scrub meself clean.” To say nothing of the times he deliberately brushed against her or bumped against her breast.
Her mother paused and looked at her in a strange way. “And the stranger, lass? Does he summon the same feelings?”
Unbidden, the picture of the handsome young man popped into Cenora’s head. Thoughts of his large hands touching her skin or holding her set her tingling with excitement. No man had ever affected her so. Mayhap she could wed him after all.
Saints preserve us. Hadn’t her elbow itched something fierce yesterday, a sure sign she’d soon be changing beds?
“No, if I must tell the truth, he makes me feel all warm and soft inside in a way I can’t explain.”
When her ma said nothing, only raised her eyebrows in surprise, Cenora continued. “Doesn’t his black hair shine thick and clean except where he struck the stone? His are the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen; black as the night they are. And did you notice that, unlike most dark headed men, he hasn’t much hair on his arms nor on his chest?”
Ma nodded. “He reminds me o’ the settled Indian men we’ve seen across this country, but this stranger would tower over any of them. Surely he cannot be one o’ the savage Indians we’ve been warned against.”
“No, his eyes are too kind, and didn’t he save me from harm at his own peril?” She pictured herself at his side, feeling dainty as a princess. The big man looked powerful and strong. And hadn’t he defended her against her father and the others a few minutes ago? Wouldn’t she feel safe now, even with Williams about?
“What if the stranger won’t say the vows for a ceremony? Or what if Williams won’t lead us?” What had she said? Surely, she couldn’t dare consider a marriage forced on this man who’d shown her only kindness.
“Sure and your da will convince the stranger. If Williams refuses to lead the wedding then your Da will, for it takes only you and your man saying the right words. Mayhap we’ll run on to a priest soon, as we did in San Antonio, and he can bless the union. One way or the other, you’ll be bound to this young man at once and not available to Tom Williams.”
“Oh, Ma, it still doesn’t seem right. It’s punishing a good man for saving me.”
Ma shook her head. “How could marriage to a lovely lass like yourself be a penalty for any man?”
Another, more frightening thought struck her. “Oh, no, this man will go to his own home to live. I’ll have to leave you and Da. What am I to do?”
How could she bear to leave her family and go who knew where with a stranger, even to escape Williams? Yet, fast as the thought came, she knew she would. To save her parents from being cast out to starve and herself from a short and horrid life with that evil Williams, she would go along with this unwanted marriage to a man who had done nothing wrong.
The realization of her weakness, the knowledge she would willi
ngly sacrifice the freedom and dreams of an innocent man to save herself and her family created a renewed bout of tears. She must be the weakest, cruelest, most undeserving woman alive.
Her mother hugged her. “Hush your weeping. ‘Tis a joyous thing. Remember his excellent horse and the size o’ that one’s treasure belt. You’ll probably live in a fine house with servants to bring your tea and wait upon you all the livelong day. You’ll never have to cook or clean or do the laundry again.”
Ma released her and offered a sad smile. “You’ll be thinking yourself too fine a lady for the likes o’ us.”
Cenora clasped her mother’s hands. “Oh, Ma, I’d never think that.” Nothing or anyone mattered as much as her family.
But she considered her mother’s words. Hadn’t she always dreamed of living like a fine lady? Wouldn’t she love to wear fancy dresses and go to parties and teas and such and have her very own servants waiting on her?
But why would such a man want her for his wife? “He’s very handsome, and he does look the nob, but what if he won’t keep me? After all, he doesn’t want to wed, at least not to me. He like as not has his eye on a town girl.”
The thought of a woman waiting somewhere for him only increased her guilt. He’d be wanting to get rid of Cenora so he could wed his chosen wife. And then where would Cenora be?
She gasped. “Oh Ma, when he sends me away, I’ll have to find you and return as a cast off woman. How will I know where to look for you, and what will I do to make me way?”
Her mother shook her head. “He has a protective nature, or he wouldn’t have saved you as he did. Surely, you’ll be no worse off for your time with him. When he sends you away, he’s bound to give you a settlement, especially if there’s a babe. Mayhap our lout of a leader will have chosen another wife by that time, and your da and I will be safe then as well.”
Cenora straightened her back, raised her chin, and took a deep breath. “If it will help you and Da, then I’ll wed him. Ma, you know I’d do anything to ease your life. Nothing is as important as me family, even that rascal Mac.”
Ma nodded. “Sure and don’t I know? You’re the best o’ daughters, and I wouldn’t ask this o’ you if I thought o’ a better way.”
Cenora’s thoughts turned to the stranger. “He said his name is Dallas, Dallas McClintock. Odd name.” But a lovely man.
For a moment, Ma cocked her head in thought then resumed digging through her treasure drawers for bits to use for wedding finery. “He’s a big one, larger than any of the men here, and well able to protect you. His treasure belt held more money than I could count,
“Rather than reassuring me, Ma, that worries me something fierce. What would a fine man like him be wanting in a wife?” She folded her hands in her lap. “Now there’s the thing, isn’t it? Well might he want a wife, but not one like me, not at all.”
“He’ll be lucky to have you, and that’s the truth. I hope he won’t abandon you too soon. Sure and you’ll have a chance to sample the easy life and bring away bounty enough to keep you going for a bit.”
“He’ll send me away soon enough, for he’d likely not keep a woman forced on him.”
“Lass, I hope he won’t be harsh with you or beat you. Your da is good to me, but many men beat their wives for every slight. You must not anger him until you’re safely away from Williams.”
“I can’t say why, but I think the stranger wouldn’t beat me. Though I couldn’t blame him if he did.” She watched her mother laying out their finest attire, including the lovely red silk scarf Ma treasured. Mayhap her groom would be impressed in spite of his being forced to wed her.
“How kind he was after he saved me from the two devils. Though near falling from his wounds, he turned his eyes from where me nakedness showed through torn clothes. He even fetched me his spare shirt to cover meself.” His strong hands had been gentle, his voice reassuring. She likely owed him her life, certainly her well being, mayhap even her sanity.
And how was he to be repaid? She closed her eyes. Forced to wed a woman he didn’t know or want through no fault of his own. All because she’d been brash, wanting to be near the man even with him out of his head. Prey on him she did, and with him defenseless.
Sure and she told her father she’d only wanted to keep the stranger warm when he shivered with fever. That she had, but if truth be told, she’d longed for a mate, yearned for her own home. With the poor man lying in her midst and with her fearing she’d eventually be required to wed Tom Williams, she’d wondered what it would be like to lie beside a kind and handsome man just once.
She had thought no harm would come of it and no one would ever know. Dear heavens, now see what she’d done. Oh, Lord, she wanted to throw herself on her parents’ bed and curl into a ball for her part in this. The stranger would hate her for sure.
“What would it be like to have the love of such a man?” The words popped out before she could call them back, and Cenora shook her head at her foolish thoughts. She hugged her arms, and her mother sat beside her. “His sort would never give his heart to the likes o’ me.”
Ma took her hand. “Oh, lass, I pray he’ll come to treasure you as you deserve. Then you’d be cared for the rest o’ your life.”
Cenora shook her head. “Ma, it’s not likely. Think on it, he’s a settled man forced to wed against his will. He’ll want a settled wife he chooses on his own.”
A tear slid down Ma’s cheek, but she brushed it away then patted Cenora’s arm. “Sure and I fear he’s likely to send you away when he’s able. Please him as long as you can until you’re well away from here. Whatever happens then, you’ll be safe from Williams.”
To escape Williams and to help her family, she’d stay with Dallas McClintock and enjoy his fine things while he let her. Exhaling a gigantic sigh, she squeezed her mother’s hand. Then she raised her chin and stood to prepare for her wedding. She’d make her family proud of her, whatever else happened.
“Ma, I’ll be a good wife to him—until the day he sends me away. Then I’ll take with me as much as I can and find you and Da.”
Her mother met her gaze, and the tragic sadness of Ma’s life shined in her eyes. “Lass, knowing that he’ll likely not keep you long, you’d best guard yourself against caring for him. Be pleasant and willing and hope for a good settlement when he bids you go.”
Keep her heart from a handsome man who treated her with respect, who’d risked his life to save her from those two devils? She closed her eyes and whispered a prayer.
Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, help me. How can I protect me heart and still be a good wife?
****
Seated with his back propped against a wagon wheel, Dallas watched the merriment. Merry for others, that is, and apparently unending, but a nightmare for him. All around the camp people laughed and sang while musicians played lively tunes. Stars shone bright from the cloudless sky. A sliver of the waning moon shone over the treetops. Their meal’s scent lingered and combined with smoke from the fires.
Carefree people around him enjoyed the festivities, all except the bull of a man named Tom Williams. That man sat with two others and cast glowers Dallas’s way. Williams might be unhappy, but Dallas was the one who had cause for anger. He longed to scream at the O’Neills and decry his unjust fate, but he masked his fury and remained quiet.
He had argued long and hard to protect his freedom earlier in the day, but O’Neill refused to be swayed. Dallas had offered his horse and saddle, ransom money, anything besides himself and marriage, but O’Neill wouldn’t budge from his demand for an immediate wedding, and the two smaller men had backed the demand.
O’Neill threatened to shoot Dallas unless he agreed, but the bull of a man had wanted to beat him to a pulp instead. The two O’Neill brothers had entered the argument and backed their father. With a passel of angry men against him, Dallas hadn’t a chance at preventing this wedding—he had to choose: forfeit his freedom or forfeit his life. He could barely stand, what chance did he have of def
ending himself or of escaping?
Slow to anger and usually in control of his emotions, Dallas almost let this situation defeat him. Every inch of his six-foot-three frame railed against being shanghaied into marriage when all he’d done was save a young woman. He looked at the girl beside him.
His wife.
He toyed with the ring on his finger and examined the odd design. His new wife had one identical. Both were from a supply fashioned by the cheerful little man named Padraic Murphy. Gold from melted coins had been worked with raised designs Dallas had never seen anywhere. He supposed it had some symbolic meaning, but none of these odd folk had explained it to him.
He closed his eyes. If he got to his horse, he might yet get away. They could keep his money and his saddle; he’d ride bareback to hell and back to be free.
Ha, as if he could run to the horses and gain the back of his big roan, Red. Not a damned chance. He doubted he could raise himself to stand in less than five minutes.
The foolish thoughts fostered by panic faded under a fresh wave of pain from his shoulder and head. Son of a gun, even with the folded blanket as a cushion against the wagon wheel, his injured shoulder throbbed like the devil, and a powerful drum beat inside his head.
Worse than the pain, the weakness humiliated him. The blow to his head must have damaged him. The combination meant he required help from his wife’s brothers to walk, and even then he staggered like a drunk. Some bridegroom he made, puny and dizzy as if he’d been caught in a whirlwind.
At his side stood Cenora’s younger brother, Mac, determined to make certain Dallas made no move to escape. Though smaller than Dallas, Mac’s lank frame looked fit. Instead of the rich auburn tresses of his sister or the black hair of their brother, Mac’s hair more resembled rust or carrots.
Mac plopped onto the ground beside him. “Do you suppose by now your family will be searching for you?”
Dallas had no idea how far this group had traveled with him unconscious, but it appeared they were still in the central Texas hill country. He knew some folks thought each clump of cactus or stand of live oaks looked the same, but Dallas believed he recognized the area in which they camped. While he’d been unconscious, they had traveled west from Hotaka Gap, moving further from Dallas’s ranch.
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