Texan's Irish Bride

by Clemmons, Caroline

  “But where do you sleep? There are no beds or pallets.” To her it looked like a storage place, not a sleeping room.

  Dallas laughed and righted an empty milk can from its side. A wash tub and various odds and ends of household equipment littered the porch. “I don’t sleep here. Guess Marston’s family did in hot weather.”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets and looked around. “Probably it’d be nice to sit here in the summer if we put chairs out here. There’s another one like this upstairs that’d be better for sleeping. Gets more breezes.”

  As they made their way up the wide front staircase, Dallas said, “Reckon I ought to have listened when Kathryn tried to give me more furniture. After I sent for my desk and chair from the catalog she gave me, I never got around to ordering anything else.”

  Cenora didn’t know what this catalog thing was. But he should have bought some other furniture or made it by now, for he said he’d lived here almost two years. Upstairs, he showed her four rooms he called guest bedrooms.

  She shook her head, puzzled at so much unused space and emptiness. Each room was larger than her family's wagon, though none had storage drawers or spaces. “How do you know they’re bedrooms when only one has a bed in it?”

  He laughed. “That’s what they were built to be, but I guess you can use them for anything you want. Might want a sewing room or such. Reckon your brothers will take up two of them, though, if they decide to stay with us.”

  She couldn’t hide her surprise. “M—Me brothers? You’ll let them stay here?” Surely he didn’t mean it? Mayhap he meant on a visit.

  He hugged her shoulders. “We’ll talk about it when they come tonight.” Acting as if it was a great thing, he stopped in front of a closed door. “Now, this is where I always slept unless I was out on the range, and it’s gonna be our bedroom.”

  She felt the heat of a blush on her cheeks. He smiled, and she knew he shared her thought of the nights they’d spent since they wed. Did he look forward to tonight as much as she did? Passion flared in his wonderful dark brown eyes, and she knew he longed for their time alone in bed tonight.

  He opened the door and stood back for her to enter.

  Stepping into the room, she stopped and stared. “Saints preserve us. I never knew such a room existed.” Now this came nearer matching Ma’s descriptions. “Like as not you’ll never have another bad dream in this room.”

  “Grandpa McClintock had all this brought out. Said a working man needed a good night’s sleep.” He chuckled. “He added, even if I was too stubborn to get the things myself. It’s cherry wood, and I reckon he didn’t spare the expense when he bought it.”

  “Sure and ‘tis a bed big enough for a family in a room fit for a king.” Cenora hoped her wide-eyed admiration pleased him.

  Apparently it did, for he beamed at her. “Grandpa even sent pillows and linens so the bed would be all ready for me. Kathryn made the quilt.”

  Cenora couldn’t resist tidying her hair at the long mirror, then ran her fingers over the dark wood of the dresser. She paused at the washstand. “There’s already water in the pitcher.”

  She peeked into the thing he called a clothes press. “Akh, and who’d have enough clothes to fill this?” After the kidnappers tore her second best dress to shreds, she only owned three dresses. She hardly needed this great thing for the two she wasn’t wearing.

  “Reckon you will if you don’t already.”

  She couldn’t take it all in. Everything matched. The massive bed, wash stand, dresser, clothes press, what he called and armoire, and tables by the bed all shared the same wood and carved trim. A large tan leather armchair had feet of the same dark wood.

  “Seemed a foolish luxury when it came. Now I’d like to shake Grandpa’s hand for his foresight.”

  She ran her fingers along a shelf on the wall. “You have more books than furniture. You must read a lot.”

  “Always have,” he admitted. “Kathryn sets a big store by learning and so did my folks. I was twelve when my parents died, and I went to live with Kathryn and Austin.”

  Worry created a burning in her stomach. She tested the big leather chair, then hopped up and paced. She pushed her fears deep inside and forced a smile for her husband. Would he send her away when he learned her secret?

  He continued, “Kathryn coerced Austin into dragging the Oriental rug up here so my feet don’t touch a cold floor winter mornings. Expect you’ll be glad of that this winter.”

  “Your family loves you very much.” But all she could think of was his family put great store in book learning. That meant he did, too. Cenora spun on her toes. “Oh, ‘tis so large both our wagons would fit inside this room.”

  Dallas chuckled. “We’d have trouble getting them up the stairs.”

  She smiled since she knew he expected it, but worry nagged at her as she traced the circles of the quilt with her finger, then hopped onto the bed and gave a little bounce. “Oh, ‘tis like being on a cloud. I won’t sleep for thinking I’m floating o’er the land and might fall to earth.”

  “Wrong,” he growled and pretended he would pounce on her. “You won’t sleep, for I’ll be keeping you awake.”

  She flashed her sauciest grin. “Aye, and I’ll be keeping yourself awake. ‘Tis a married woman with experience I am and not a raw lass.”

  “I’m awake now, and this is our bedroom,” he said and cocked an eyebrow at her.

  She stepped toward him, intent on showing her eagerness to be a good wife in all ways even if it was broad daylight but stopped when Rosa called to Xavier beneath the window. Then the screen door slammed as Rosa came back in. Cenora and Dallas jumped as if the door were in their room. A second slam of the door and they heard Xavier downstairs tell Fred and Armando to bring chairs into the house.

  Cenora tilted her head and waggled her finger at Dallas. “We’ll be waiting ‘til night to try out your bed.”

  “Dang, reckon you’re right, but it’s our bed now. We need to get downstairs, though, and send someone to fetch your family while I talk to Xavier.”

  She saw him glance at the pillows and exhale. In a few hours their heads would rest there. Now wouldn’t that be lovely?

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “Sure will be nice to have this bed to ourselves with a good lock on the door.”

  She laughed. “No wonder you felt cramped in our wee space.”

  She wondered if their coming together would be even more joyous in this big bed but halted more thoughts of the two of them sharing it. Otherwise, sure and she’d forget those people downstairs or that it was mid afternoon, and she’d pull her husband onto the soft mattress with her. She stepped away from the bed’s temptation, and Dallas caught her hand.

  He tugged her to a wide pair of windows. “Come here quick before we go down. Look left there, at the camp off to the side by the river?”

  “Oh, yes, I see our wagons there at the end.” She pointed, then turned to him. “’Tis a fine house, and it’s a fine thing you’ve done for me family and the others.”

  He grabbed her and swung her around, and she laughed like a wee girl, happy his wounds had healed enough for him to be so active.

  As they descended the stairs, he said, “We’ll be wanting furniture now. My aunt has been pestering me to get more since I bought this place.”

  Stepping off the bottom step, he said, “There are things stored in several places, and several relatives are sure to share.”

  Dallas named a list of people who might contribute things and the jumble of names puzzled her, though she recognized Kathryn to be his aunt. He must have known she fretted, for he pulled her to him.

  “We’ll find what we need, don’t worry.”

  Akh, how could she tell him finding furniture worried her not at all? What had her in bits was wondering would this fine man keep her as his wife? Even if she kept her secret from him, after the newness of lying with her wore off, would he find a settled girl from a good family and send Cenora back to Ma
and Da?

  And what of his family? His family would not take kindly to a woman forced on Dallas, now would they?

  Chapter Seven

  Dallas spent over an hour with Xavier, and they decided on the best way to handle problems. Fortunately, with a savvy foreman like Xavier, several catastrophes had been averted.

  Rustlers had been driven off last week, though not caught. A fight in town the past Saturday between Fred and a drover from another spread had resulted in both men landing in jail. Xavier had paid Fred’s fine, to be taken from wages next payday. The worst problem was the loss of the foal Dallas had counted on. If only he’d been here, perhaps the foal could have been saved.

  Before he returned to the house, he stopped to speak with Fred. “Hitch the wagon and go to the camp down by the river. Two wagons on this end belong to the O’Neill family, and they’re expecting someone to come for them. Bring them to the house.”

  Half an hour later, the O’Neills arrived, all talking at once. Dallas forced his thoughts from ranch problems to the collective one in front of him. Used to solitude and order, Dallas’s reaction to this noisy crowd was strained nerves. In spite of his own preference for quiet, with his in-laws milling around, the evening turned festive.

  “Boyo, you ought to feel like a king,” Brendan announced as he took a seat beside Aoife.

  “Danged if I don’t feel like one.” The admission surprised Dallas. “Of course, a true king doesn’t have to borrow chairs from the bunkhouse or plates and utensils from his married foreman. Still, I doubt any king ever felt more pleased to be home.”

  And that was the truth. Whatever his feeling for his new wife—and he wasn’t too clear on that as yet—he had hated his time with the Travelers. Taught to work hard and earn his own way, he scorned their slack attitudes. Begging, stealing, and hand-to-mouth living were hard for him to stomach.

  Welcome aromas brought him back to his guests. Rosa served platters heaped with ham covered with currant sauce, yams, fresh peas from the garden, a salad of new greens, and applesauce.

  “Rosa,” Dallas said and passed the ham to Finn, “You outdid yourself.” He inhaled and identified cinnamon and hoped it came from an apple pie or cobbler made from the apples he’d seen her preparing earlier.

  He added honey and fresh churned butter on his biscuit. Cenora spread some of the jam on hers and tasted it. The sight of her pink tongue testing the blackberry jam sent blood pumping to his groin. He longed to take her sweet tongue into his mouth in a passionate kiss while they lay in his big bed. Whatever his thoughts on the rest of marriage, he sure liked the bedding part.

  “For dessert we have your favorite, apple cobbler,” Rosa said.

  He smiled his thanks. “Ah, as I’d hoped. With cream?”

  “Sí, thick and cold. I will serve it when you have eaten.” She went back into the kitchen.

  Dallas was proud enough to bust. “Most of the food on the table was grown right here on the ranch.” Other than his family, these were his first guests in two years. Then the thought hit him that now, like it or not, these people were also his family. Would he ever get used to this bunch?

  Brendan stopped eating long enough to point his fork at Dallas. “I had a fair garden meself, until the crops failed two years in a row. It was too much rain, bugs, and then a blight. I’ll be glad to help advise you anytime, boyo, for years I lived by farming.”

  Dallas would have loved to tell his father-in-law he needed no help with the gardening. Damn, he’d try to do right by his wife, if she really was his wife, but he sure hated to have this many people hovering around every day. Once again, Dallas vowed to make the best of this situation no matter how much he dreaded it.

  Mac stuffed a large bite of meat into his mouth and chewed, then swallowed. “Akh, wouldn’t Vourneen love the taste o’ this?” He dug in for another forkful and missed the look Dallas saw pass between Cenora’s parents.

  Cenora’s menfolk ate as if they were storing up for hibernation. On the other hand, Aoife pecked at her food.

  Cenora watched her mother. “Eat up, Ma, or you’ll hurt Rosa’s feelings.”

  Dallas plowed through more than usual, glad to enjoy Rosa’s good cooking again and eat something besides cabbage, potatoes, or turnips. Cenora ate a bit of everything and remembered to compliment Rosa on each dish.

  After dinner, Dallas said, “Mac and Finn, can you help move some of these chairs into the parlor so we can all sit in there to talk?”

  Cenora stood and gathered plates to carry to the kitchen. “You’ll remember not to set three chairs in a row.”

  Damn, more of her superstition nonsense. How could she believe all of that stuff?

  Rosa came into the dining room and took the dishes from Cenora. “On your first evening in your new home, you should be with your husband and your guests, Señora McClintock.”

  “No, ‘tis plain Cenora Rose O’Neill McClintock I am, and there’s no need to say otherwise. You’ll be calling me Cenora, and if you’re willing, I’ll call you Rosa.”

  “Muy gracias, thanks, Se—Cenora,” Rosa said.

  Dallas laughed, pleased with his wife. “Señora Cenora would be a mouthful at that.” He nodded to Rosa, “Thanks, Rosa. Don’t hurry over tomorrow. We’ll fix our own breakfast.”

  He caught the look of surprise his in-laws exchanged, but he led his wife to the circle of chairs. “I’ve picked up the Spanish lingo. When I was ailing and heard Cenora say her name, I thought she said Señora, which means a married woman in Spanish. I figured she meant she was married and named Rose.” He laughed, and his new family joined in.

  “I can’t get over the size o’ the place, boyo.” Brendan peered around the room. “Do you have a lot o’ servants cleaning the place and waiting on you?”

  Dallas frowned. Servants? What the hell would he want with servants even if he could afford them?

  “No, Rosa’s the cook and helps with the housekeeping. I help her when I have the time.”

  Aoife and Brendan exchanged looks of surprise.

  Cenora held out her hand to gesture around the room. “Our cottage in Eire would likely fit in this big room.”

  Dallas nodded his understanding. “When I was very young, I lived in a small home. It had several rooms, but they were all small. That’s when I lived with my mother and father in the mountains of Georgia.”

  “We thought you were a Texian,” Finn said.

  “I am now.” Dallas figured he might as well explain. “When I was about twelve, my parents were killed by raiders while I was fishing with my grandfather. That’s when I came to live with my father's brother and his wife.”

  Cenora asked, “The one who came with his sons to find you?”

  “The giant with the fine black horse?” Mac asked.

  Dallas nodded. “That’s the one. They've always treated me as if I were their son, even though they have the two sons you met and a girl of their own, Rebecca.”

  Cenora touched her mother’s arm. “Ma, are you feeling faint again?”

  Dallas noticed his mother-in-law slumped in the rocker, her face beaded with sweat though a nice breeze cooled the room. He rose and touched her arm. “Would you like to lie down now?”

  Aoife waved a hand. “I’ll be meself in a bit. ‘Tis the excitement of the day gnawing at me,” she said, but her face had turned grayer than usual.

  Dallas figured she must be overtired from travel plus the excitement. “Mac, Finn, if you’ll help me bring a bed from upstairs, we can put it in the bedroom back there. Then your folks can sleep here tonight, and your mother won’t have to ride back to camp.”

  “I’ll show you where, boys,” Cenora said. “It’ll do Ma good to rest here.”

  “I wouldn’t mind.” Aoife looked at her husband.

  Brendan looked ready to dance a jig. “Sure and it’ll be a treat to stay in a grand house such as this. If you’re sure we won’t be intruding on yourselves?”

  Of course they’d be intruding, but Dallas forc
ed himself to be a good host and shook his head. “Cenora and I have our room upstairs at the other end of the house. There are other bedrooms upstairs, but I thought you’d prefer not having to climb steps.”

  Aoife nodded. “I would, and that’s the truth. It was a lovely evening, but I’m that tired I don’t think I could make it much longer without a bit of a lie down and me laudanum.”

  Dallas nodded to Brendan. “If you’ll help Ma and follow me, I’ll take care of moving this chair for her.” The term sounded odd, but Mrs. O’Neill had insisted he call her Ma and call Brendan Da, so Dallas honored her wish. Dallas grabbed the rocker and carried it to a corner of the bedroom near the windows.

  Aoife sank onto the chair and sighed as she set it to rocking slowly. “Now isn’t this a lovely big room?”

  “Tomorrow you can pick out a different one if you wish. Won’t take a minute to get the bed moved for tonight.” Dallas turned to retrieve a table and lamp to make the room suitable for his in-laws.

  Soon the bed was set up with fresh linens for the older O’Neills.

  Since night had fallen while they talked, Dallas lit the lamp. “There, that should get you set up for the night.”

  Cenora brought the chamber pot that had stayed under the bed upstairs and slid it under the newly placed bed.

  Aoife looked embarrassed. “Thank you, lass, I was going to ask about the necessary. ‘Tis grateful I am I won’t be needing to walk outside tonight.”

  Dallas said, “Ah, the uh, the privy is just out back. If you’re thirsty there’s a pump in the kitchen, and there’s food in the pie safe if you want a snack.” He fetched spare matches and a candle, then furrowed fingers through his hair. “Guess I didn’t think far ahead, or I’d have had more comforts available.”

  “Splendid, why this is splendid.” Brendan walked around the room, touching the wallpaper, windowsills, and then came to stand beside his wife. “We’ll be fine, boyo, don’t be worrying your head ‘bout us. I’m stuffed full as a king’s purse, and I’ll nod off soon as me head hits yon pillow.”