Jonah pulled himself up bareback. “Yes, he does. Will you go and tell Noah I’ve gone to town and I’ll be back soon?”
Cole nodded. “I want to learn how to do that,” Jonah heard the boy say as he turned for the bunkhouse.
He smiled.
I have a stage to catch.
Jonah had been riding as hard as he’d dared for nearly three quarters of an hour. When he finally rode into Stone Creek, the dust from the stage hadn’t yet settled. He wasn’t too late.
“We’re almost there,” he said, rubbing Perseus on his side. The back wheels of the stage peeked out from the cloud of dust that had turned up into the air as it departed from town and he urged his mount forward.
He had to dodge a woman and her child crossing the street, jump over a barrel of ale that had come loose from the supply wagon, and duck under a low hanging branch at the edge of town just past the saloon.
Jonah’s heart was beating in rhythm with his horse’s gait. He rehearsed in his mind one more time what he would say to her and hoped she would return the sentiments.
It’s worth the risk.
It took a few minutes, but Jonah finally caught up to the stage. He sped up a little faster to get ahead of the burly driver.
“Stop,” he yelled, swallowing a mouthful of dirt. He coughed and spit.
Let’s try that again. He rode up a little farther. “Stop!”
The man looked down at him hard and after a moment, he pulled on his reins and the stage came to a halt.
“I’m here for one of your passengers.” Jonah flipped the man one of the silver coins he had in his pocket. “Thank you.”
The driver caught the money and nodded, pulling thoughtfully on his long greying beard.
Jonah took a deep breath, dismounted, and stepped up onto the iron foot bar beneath the door.
“Miss Foster,” he started as he looked inside.
Two very robust women, both in ridiculous hats looked at him and smiled awkwardly. He glanced at the other side of the coach to where a thin bearded man in a brown suit peered back at him with a look of utter annoyance.
Emma wasn’t there.
“Uh, my mistake,” he said and jumped down off the step.
It didn’t make sense. He guessed it was possible that she’d hired a freighter or some other guide to take her to St. Joseph. The only way he’d find out was to ride back into town and find Aunt Leah.
He pulled himself back up onto Perseus’s back and called up to the driver.
“Carry on.”
The driver shrugged his shoulders, picked up the reins to the four-horse team, and started moving again.
“I know you’re tired, boy,” Jonah whispered to Perseus. “But you can rest once we get back to town. I promise.” He clicked his tongue and lifted the reins. “Let’s go.”
The short trip back to town only took a couple of minutes. Jonah pulled up in front of the livery and dismounted. He paid the stableman to brush, feed, and let Perseus rest a while. When he turned around, Aunt Leah walked out of the telegraph office with a smile, followed by a laughing Emma.
His heart lurched inside his chest. He caught her gaze and she smiled at him. If she’d have him, he’s be a very lucky man.
“Thank you, Leah. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Emma and Leah had been to see the only attorney in Stone Creek to handle the matter of Orchard House. While Emma would always love Boston, she’d realized it was no longer her home.
“I think turning your old house into a boarding school for orphans is a wonderful idea,” Leah said with a smile as they walked out of the telegraph office.
Emma had just sent Mr. Horace a notice of dismissal.
“Maybe I’ll have to send some of my brood that direction.”
Emma laughed.
They already sent a letter on the stage addressed to her friend Hattie, from the train, via Pony Express, in which Emma expressed her sincere desire to have the woman as headmistress of the new school. With the telegram to Mr. Horace, they had accomplished most everything on her list.
“We’d better be getting back. I’ll expect our guests will start arriving at any time now and I’m afraid Jameson will not have any idea what to do with them.”
Emma giggled and picked up the bottom of her skirt. Something caught her eye and she glanced up to see Jonah, standing in front of the livery. When he caught her gaze, she smiled at him.
He started purposefully toward her. Emma thought her heart might jump from her chest as the pounding grew stronger with each step he took. His hat rode low on his head and his shirt hugged the muscled flesh of his arms and chest. A look of utter determination set his jaw and he raised a single brow.
Jonah didn’t say a word when he reached her. His hands delved into the tresses at her nape and he pulled her face upward to meet his ardent kiss. Her lips parted in eager response. A warm tingling tremor started in her belly and migrated downward until it reached her toes.
He moved his arms down around her waist, crushing her against him, and he lifted her from the ground, his lips still holding hers captive. Emma opened her palms against his back and slid them upward until they wrapped around his shoulders.
When he released her from their kiss, he didn’t pull away.
“I love you Emma Foster,” Jonah whispered. He slid a hand down her arm until he found her hand. He squeezed and held out his other arm in the air.
“I love Emma Foster!” he shouted into the street as he turned with her in circles.
He pulled her back into him, clutching both hands to his chest.
“Marry me,” he breathed. “Marry me today. Right now.”
Emma giggled.
“We are getting married in just a few short hours, silly. Don’t you remember? Redbourne Ranch? Aunt Leah?” Emma said as she motioned to Leah who stood in front of the buckboard with a grin stretching from ear to ear. “Guests should be starting to arrive about now.”
“I thought I’d lost you.” He slid his arms back down her arms and with both hands wrapped tightly around her waist, he placed his forehead against hers.
“Please don’t ever do that to me again.”
“What?”
“Leave.”
“Why, Jonah Deardon, I love you. My home is wherever you are.”
Jonah glanced up the row created between the two sections of chairs full of the townsfolk of Stone Creek. Emma stood there, dressed in the most elegant cream colored gown he had ever seen. Her hair was pulled back loosely, decorated with little sprigs of pale pink flowers, and her long raven tendrils cascaded down her shoulders in front of her.
Jonah stood up a little taller as she and Uncle Jameson made their way toward him, her hand tucked neatly in his arm.
She was beautiful.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to marry her?” Noah whispered, his hand on Jonah’s shoulder.
Jonah didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Looking at Emma took his breath away. He loved her, no question. He held out his hand for her to join him in front of the town reverend.
Uncle Jameson released Emma with a quick kiss on her cheek.
Emma slid her hand into Jonah’s and met his eyes with a smile that warmed him from the inside. To think that just a few days ago he’d been devising ways to convince Emma Foster not to marry him. He’d been the idiot, not her.
“…to love, honor, and cherish from this day forward?”
Jonah brushed a stray lock of hair from Emma’s face. Then he pried his eyes from away from hers long enough to see the preacher waiting expectantly for his response. He cleared his throat.
“I do.” Jonah squeezed Emma’s hand.
“Emma Foster, do you take Jonah Nicholas Deardon to be your lawfully wedded husband…to love, honor, and cherish from this day forward?”
Silence.
She met his eyes and smiled.
“Forever,” she whispered with a nod. “I do.”
“Forever,” Jonah repeated.
“…I now pronounce you man and wife.”
Jonah felt his smile stretch the width of his face as he and Emma turned to greet their guests.
“Well, kiss her already,” Lucas shouted up at them.
Jonah looked down at Emma. The sun behind her cast a warm glow around her hair and face. Her cheeks had a touch of color, her eyes bright and smiling, and her lips looked full and inviting. She was indeed the most beautiful angel he’d ever seen.
“I love you, Mrs. Deardon.”
“I love you, Mr. Deardon.”
Jonah took her lips in his and knew that he was home.
THE END
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Lucas
Chapter One
Oregon, October 1861
“How in the hell did you do that?”
Lucas Deardon’s shoulder sat at an odd angle as he met his brother’s concern with an unabashed grin. He’d never outright lied to Jonah before and he wasn’t about to start now.
“Breaking the bronc over at the Wilson place.”
Jonah froze, then turned away from him, his hands balled into fists. “And to think I was worried you’d been trying to impress the hands with all of those fancy rodeo circus tricks of yours.” He finished wrapping the rope he held around his arm and draped it over one of the fence posts. “I thought we’d agreed. No wild horses.” His voice was quiet, not at all what Lucas had expected. He picked up the tool crate and headed toward the barn.
A thread of guilt wove its way through Lucas’s gut. But there was something about working with the wild horses that made Lucas feel close to his brother, Henry. Things around the ranch had not been the same since the accident and they’d all struggled to find their place and fill the hole his eldest brother had left behind.
“I’m not Henry, Jonah.”
Henry had had talent in spades, especially when it came to breaking horses, and Lucas had always looked up to him. But he was his own man and it was time Jonah realized that.
Jonah whipped around, jostling the tools in the crate.
“No, you’re not Henry.” His eyebrows scrunched together, his eyes squinted. “Henry’s dead!” he yelled. Then, as quickly as he’d raised his voice, he softened and turned back for the barn.
Lucas caught up to him.
“I would have thought you’d have learned from his mistake. You don’t have anything to prove.” When Jonah reached the barn door, he set the crate down and slid it open.
“What happened to Henry was an accident. Accidents happen, but living in fear of what could happen isn’t living, big brother.”
Jonah retrieved the tools and returned them to the worktable inside the barn. He placed his hands, shoulder width apart, on the flat surface and dropped his head.
“And, I have everything to prove.”
“To who?” Jonah turned to look at him. “Not to Dad, and certainly not to me.” He pushed past Lucas, waiting for him to follow, then slid the barn door closed behind him. Without missing a step, he ventured toward the stables.
Lucas followed, still holding his injured arm. “To all of you. And to myself. I’m not a kid anymore, Jonah. I see what you do around here to keep us afloat and I want to help. I work hard around here, but I could be doing so much more.”
“Here,” Jonah pulled one of the horseshoes from a nail in the wall and held it out, “take this.”
Lucas reached out to take it.
“With your other hand.”
“But—”
“Open your hand, curl your fingers around the metal, and just hold it down at your side.”
He’s got to be joking.
Lucas opened his fingers with some effort. What had been a dull ache a few moments ago was growing more painful by the moment and the swelling of his shoulder strained against the seams of his shirt sleeve.
Jonah placed the toe of the horseshoe in Lucas’s hand.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Lucas asked with disbelief.
Jonah added another horseshoe. And another, until Lucas’s arm felt like it might come apart.
POP!
Lucas rotated his arm in awe. “How did you know to do that?”
“Remember right after Mama left...?” His older brother looked up at him, then shook his head. “Never mind, kid. You were only, what, seven years old? Let’s just say it’s an old family trick.”
Lucas didn’t want to think about the woman who’d abandoned their family. He remembered her beautiful voice and ability to sing, but those talents had been more important to her than her own children. It had taken a long time for him to understand that there was nothing he could have done to make her stay. He’d learned to be happy without her.
“I remember she left. That’s enough,” Lucas told him.
“How’d he take it?” Noah, the brother just older than Lucas, popped his head into the stable as if not keen on exposing his entire body to Jonah’s anticipated ire.
“You knew?” Jonah asked accusingly.
“Look at this.” Lucas flapped his arm up and down like it was a chicken wing.
Ouch. He stopped.
Noah’s eyes widened. “That’s pretty good, doc,” he teased as he stood up straight and walked fully into the barn, inspecting Lucas’s arm. “Hey,” he said as he turned back to Jonah, “Dad wants to see us in the house. All of us.” He looked at Lucas. “Said it was important.”
Lucas returned the horseshoes gingerly to the rack on the wall. His shoulder hurt, but at least the mounting pressure had been relieved when it popped back into place. He flexed his hand, stretching his fingers, as he slipped out the door ahead of Jonah and caught up to Noah, who nudged him playfully.
“See. No harm done,” he whispered.
“Easy for you to say.” Lucas rubbed the offending spot on his shoulder and flexed his hand again. “It might be a while before I can hold the reins tight enough to stay on that bronc. He sure is a beaut, but it’ll take a bit more work before he’s ready to ride.”
Gabe Deardon wore scrunched brows as he sat behind the oversized desk in his den. He looked up at each of his sons as they entered the room. An odd, heavy cloud, almost thick enough to touch, loomed over them as they sat down. Lucas eased into the tall leatherback, careful to avoid contact with his tender shoulder.
When Jonah joined them, he closed the door and moved to sit on the arm of Lucas’s chair.
“I’m just going to cut right to it,” their father said, standing up from his seat. “Now that the telegraph has been completed and extends across the nation, the Pony Express will no longer be in service. They’ll be closing their doors next week, I’m told.”
A rock dropped inside Lucas’s belly at the news. “What about our contract?”
“We knew it was only going to be a matter of time, son. However, they will pay us the remainder of what is due for this last run, but no more.” His father moved around to the front of his desk and sat down, his ankles and arms crossed in front of him. “So, we have some hard decisions to make.”
This was the first time Lucas had been invited to a meeting that concerned anything to do with the ranch and was grateful his father saw him as man enough to be a part of the decision making going forward.
“We’ve stocked enough food and supplies to make it through this winter, but come spring, if we don’t find another buyer, we’ll be finished.” Jonah moved into the chair next to Lucas.
“There may be another way to save the ranch.” Their father met each one of them in the eyes. “But it will require a new mindset for all of us.”
“What is it?” Noah asked, now sitting closer to the edge of his chair.
“Cattle.”
Lucas glanced at his brothers who looked as dumbfounded as he felt.
“Cattle,” Noah repeated.
“Cattle?” Jonah asked.
Gabe nodded. “Do you remember the Markhams?”
“The cattl
e rancher from Eureka?” Lucas didn’t remember the rancher so much as his daughter, Clara. He smiled, despite himself.
Their father nodded. “He’s decided to give up ranching all together and is moving his family back East.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Jonah asked. “We’re not planning a move to Eureka?”
“Certainly not. Markham approached me earlier this week and has offered to sell me his business and livestock for a third of the going price. Except for a few prized bulls. He already has someone lined up to buy his place, but they didn’t want the herd, they want to farm the land.”
“Why would he sell them to us? Wouldn’t he be able to get full price at auction?” Lucas asked.
“For reasons that are his own, he wants to be in Augusta, Maine, by Christmas. And I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“But we don’t know anything about cattle ranching.” Noah shoved his hands through his hair, then sat back against the chair.
Gabe leaned forward with a smile. “That’s why he’s offered to hire one of you to go and work the cattle with his foreman for the next few weeks to learn everything you can about the work. He’ll pay a fair wage and offered to throw in one of his prized bulls as incentive.”
As much as his father tried to mask his concern, Lucas could see the worry in his eyes. He was hiding something.
“What’s the problem?” Jonah looked up at Gabe and asked what Lucas had been thinking. “You wouldn’t be so concerned if it was going to be that easy?”
Their father laughed, something that Lucas hadn’t heard very often—especially as of late.
“You know me all too well, son. We are in a bit of a predicament.” He scratched the stubble on his neck with the back of his hand, then stood up to pace the room. “Money. I’m afraid we don’t have enough on hand to even cover half of his asking price. Now that Lucas is injured,” he nodded at his youngest son, “we’ve run out of options.”
Lucas shot a glance at his brother, eyes wide.
“Wait,” Jonah said, now rising to his feet, “you knew that Lucas was breaking horses for the Wilsons and you didn’t tell me?”
The Deardons Complete Mini-Series Page 9