by T. S. Joyce
My gut wrenched. “You did what?” I snarled.
Jeremiah held his hand up like he was calming a spooked pony, but it only made me want to cut his fingers off with the buck knife secured at my waist.
“Now listen before you fly off the handle,” he barked. “You put us in a bad situation when you left. You put a lady living with an unhitched man all alone in the wilderness and people in town was startin’ to talk. I didn’t want her like you do, but we got on well enough, and we worked all right at keeping the ranch going together.” In a softer tone, he said, “She’s a good woman and I didn’t know if you were ever coming back or if you were just done, like Gable. She wasn’t ever going to stop waiting for you, Luke. She would have stayed on for years and I wanted to give her the option of moving on.”
The leather of the reins gave a helpless squeak in my clenched hand. “With you. You gave her the option of moving on with the brother of the man she was engaged to. So you didn’t want to kiss her, you didn’t want to bed her, but you wanted to marry her?”
“Dammit Luke,” he said. “It wasn’t like that. There wasn’t a physical connection between us. There never has been. I asked her to think about it, and within a few hours she’d turned me down flat. She said she was yours. I just wanted you to hear it from me and early on before it got blown out of proportion.”
My rage was infinite. Flashes of imagined trysts between Jeremiah and the woman I loved whirled through my mind. They would’ve bonded over time and he would’ve given her all the little baby wolves she asked for. He’d always wanted them. What if he was the better man? What if he was the better option for her? He’d stuck around after I’d run out on her. He’d protected her from the winter and from the darkness within his own self for all those months. He’d fed her and kept her warm and she wasn’t even his woman to keep. Jeremiah was two ticks shy of a damned saint and he’d dangled a pretty future right in front of her face.
Everything I saw was red. Red trees and brush, road and horses. Jeremiah was bathed in crimson. My horse started when I jumped from the saddle and tackled my brother from his.
“Do you know what it would’ve done to me?” I yelled as I pummeled him. “Coming back here and seeing you two all shacked up. It would’ve cut me in half, Jer!”
“Stop it!” he yelled, flinging me on my back and hitting me hard across the jaw. “She wouldn’t be out here if it weren’t for my advertisement. She answered it thinking she was marrying me. I saw her first.” He gripped my shirt with clenched hands. “I had every right to propose to her!”
I bucked him off and put the back of my hand to my split lip. “Do you love her?”
“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Like the little sister I never had. I cared about her enough to want to give her a proper name after you ran. It had been months, Luke. You weren’t coming back for her and she was already part of our family. If you weren’t man enough to take her, I was more than happy to do it.” The slice across his cheek was bleeding freely and when he spat, it was red.
“Do you know what I felt last night when that traitor wolf dragged you out of the bushes?” he asked. “Horror, yeah, but underneath it all I was relieved. You’d come back for her and she’d see you that last moment before she left the earth. She deserved for you to be there. You should’ve been the one teaching her to survive, not me. I was a poor substitute for you, brother. I was relieved because I wouldn’t die alone. And I know how selfish that is, but it was going to happen and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. If we were dying, I wanted my family together.”
I dropped my head in my hands as I was bombarded by the fear I’d felt when I saw the noose around my brother’s neck, when I saw Kristina’s blood against the white coat of that Hell Hunter’s horse, and her beating on the window of the burning house. Her screams of panic and pain would haunt me all my days. I’d spend the rest of my time on this earth making it up to them.
Jeremiah squeezed my shoulder and shook it slowly. “You came back for her. For us. I was relieved that you’d come back.”
“You swear she said no to your proposal?”
“I swear on my life. She told me she’d make me a pot roast instead.”
I stifled a smile but it was useless. Jeremiah huffed a chuckle, then burst out laughing as he lay back on the side of the road. Blood coated his front teeth and a slow chuckle came to me too.
I didn’t like that he’d proposed to Kristina, not one bit, but I understood it. He was a good man and a good husband. I’d seen the way he treated Anna. No one was ever more devoted. But the difference was that he didn’t love Kristina. He wasn’t the type of man to get over her previous occupation. The number of men she’d been with would sit in his mind, growing year by year like some poisonous weed. He liked quiet, proper women. Always had. They’d bonded over the winter months, but it wasn’t love. Jeremiah’s wolf wouldn’t be trying so hard to kill her if it was. He would’ve provided her with a safe place to live and babies if she wanted them, but if she’d said yes, she’d never know how it was to be completely loved. She’d likely had some instinct for that when she’d given her answer.
I might be lacking in other ways, but I was going to love that woman until my last breath. She’d grow old knowing what it was to be adored by a man.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kristina
“There,” Trudy said as she bit the last stitch on the cream and bluebonnet colored floral fabric. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” I gushed.
On the inside, however, I was so nervous my knees quaked. I liked to think of myself as a brave person, but five day healed burns being shoved into a dress for the first time sounded about as much fun as jumping back into the fire that caused them.
Trudy spat out the thread. “Stop worrying. I told you I made it looser on that side so it won’t rub you as badly, and I’ll be gentle putting it on. You need to get back into a dress to lift your spirits and going out today will get your mind off waiting on your man.”
As she said that, I was sitting in the rocking chair closest to the window, and every few seconds I would glance out of it with an obnoxious little balloon of hope that deflated as soon as I figured out no one was there. Maybe she was right.
Trudy reached for the bandages on my neck. “You finally ready to look? The faster you look, the faster you’ll accept it.”
I pouted testily. Avoiding that area of my body at all costs was something I was actually good at. “Fine.”
She handed me a mirror and I put it up in front. I winced at the redness. My skin had blistered and smudged together in places, like thick clay I used to sculpt little animals out of during my youth. And on top of it all was a layer of scabbing that was starting to itch.
“You ain’t even looking at the good part. Here.” Trudy pulled the curtains closed and latched the door before pulling my nightdress over my head. It hurt to lift my arm on that side, but my mobility was improving.
“Why’re you smiling?” I asked suspiciously.
Trudy held up the mirror for me to see. “I’m just glad you’re finally looking is all. It looks a lot better than I thought it would.”
“That makes one of us,” I grumbled. The burn on my neck was bad, but the slash of burned skin down my ribcage and on the back of my arm was atrocious. “Good thing I quit whoring.”
Trudy’s eyebrows knitted together as she pressed on an area with some swelling. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’d starve to death if I had to support myself by selling this body. Men have lots of fetishes, Trudy. Bedding a hideous burn victim isn’t one I’ve ever heard of.”
“Oh, stop your belly achin’. It could’ve been much, much worse.”
I thought about the whip lashes across her back. She was right and I grabbed her hand. “Are you sure you want to eat at Cotton’s on your one day off?”
She smiled. “Of course I do. It’ll do you good to sit among other people for a while. Now, I think your
burns need air more than anything. After these bandages, we need to start letting them out. No more salves except for an ointment I’ll give you to help with the scarring, all right?”
“Fine by me. That poultice smells rancid.”
She ducked down to check the length of my hem. “It’s the possum fat.”
Gross. Trudy bandaged me enough to shield my side and arm from rubbing against the fabric, but left my neck exposed. When I asked why she left that one out, she said it was good for the town’s people to get used to the way I looked.
My legs were a bit weak under me from disuse over the past week. In an attempt to steer clear of the laudanum, I’d had to stay motionless to limit the pain. The air was crisp against my exposed injury and Trudy and I made matching high button boot prints across the walkway to Cotton’s. The eatery was bustling, as always, with nary an open chair to be had.
Trudy made a clucking sound behind her teeth. “I told Elias to get here early and save us a seat.”
“Ms. Kristina,” a booming voice hailed from the corner. Sheriff Hawkins waved for us to join him. Trudy and I shared a wide-eyed glance.
Trudy recovered from the shock first and pulled me by my good hand through the maze of chairs and tables. A woman in a daffodil yellow dress with light hair and deep blue eyes beamed up at us. While the sheriff scooted down the bench seat to make room for us, the woman offered her delicate, gloved hand.
“I’m Daisy Hawkins. Eugene’s my husband and he’s told me so much about you.”
I gave her fingers a gentle shake, then took the seat beside her with a grateful smile.
Eugene leaned forward and raised his voice over the crowd. “I’m mighty glad to see you healing up. You looked pretty banged up last I saw you.” He pointed to my neck. “Looks like it’s been a rough week.”
I put my hand lightly over the marred skin and tried to stop the heat rising in my cheeks.
“Don’t do that,” Daisy said quietly, pushing my hand out of the way. “Eugene told me what you did. You’re a brave woman who’s earned those scars, so don’t you cover them up.”
I didn’t know Daisy from Adam, but I liked her.
Trudy had been right, as she was about lots of things. It was good for me to get out and socialize with other people. My spirits had already lifted with the relief of not obsessing over when Luke would come to take me home, so when he came through the door of Cotton’s, I was in the middle of a conversation about the likelihood of the railroad sending a connecting track to Colorado Springs. His presence was so unexpected, surely I was imagining him.
“Luke?” I whispered.
His head snapped right to me and such a delicious smile took over his face, it melted my insides. Hells bells, that man was a beautifully built and masculine creature.
Some of the patrons stopped talking and stared at him, but he seemingly didn’t notice. His eyes didn’t waver from mine as he made his way through the winding pathway to get to our table. He greeted everyone at our table warmly before straddling the bench beside me. His legs surrounded me and brought the warmth and safety I’d been desperate for since he’d left.
“Hey,” he breathed.
“Hey, yourself.”
He traced a finger over the marring on my neck and said, “You’re a sight for sore eyes, woman.”
His legs pressed against my knees and back and I couldn’t take my eyes from his lips. I’d never wanted a man more than Luke Dawson. His smile was crooked and knowing and he leaned into my neck and spoke in a velvet stroke against my ear. “I have a surprise.”
“What is it?” I whispered.
“Circuit preacher’s in town.”
I gasped. “Don’t you tease me, Luke Dawson, or so help me I won’t be a pleasant woman to live out your days with.”
The look on his face was pure elation. “I swear it. I’ve already talked to him and he’s willing to do a ceremony today. He’s leaving tomorrow for a funeral, but today he’s ours.”
I squeaked and hugged Luke around the neck. I didn’t care about the pain. He was finally going to be mine, and I’d be his. The diners around us went quiet and watched us with curious expressions. Right, I was being inappropriate in front of mixed company. I grinned helplessly at Trudy and Luke cleared his throat.
“It seems that today’s our wedding day. Circuit preacher is in town and Kristina will be takin’ my last name this evening. Anyone care to witness?”
Luke took my hand under the table as Trudy, Elias, Daisy and Sheriff Hawkins congratulated us. The rest of the diners couldn’t care less, but the people who mattered were all smiles.
“What all do we have to do for a wedding?” I asked. One day sure didn’t seem a lot of time to plan something.
“I don’t know. I never thought I’d be doing one of these,” he admitted.
Trudy leaned forward over the swell of her belly. “Food. We need to cook a meal to celebrate. Even if it’s just a few people witnessing, you can’t have a wedding without some good food.”
“Is this all right to wear?” I’d meant the question for Trudy, but I looked at Luke while I said it. I wanted him to think me pretty on our wedding day, because I was sorely convinced he’d be disappointed in the way I looked on our wedding night.
His finger traced the outline of the blue and cream print. “That dress suits you perfect.”
“Where’re you planning on getting hitched?” Daisy asked.
“I’d always imagined it under that big tree out in front of the cabin,” I said.
“It’s a hanging tree now,” Luke said somberly. He rubbed his healing neck. “Takes the romance out of it.”
“It’s where we saved each other,” I argued. “Let’s steal the romance back.”
The smile on his face faded slightly but returned when I arched my eyebrow and didn’t admit to teasing. I was determined.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do it up at our place. It won’t be nothin’ fancy, but it’ll be memorable.”
****
On account of the cold, the ceremony would be short. Wind swirled lazily, lifting tiny twisters of snow across the clearing, and the lanterns that hung from the hanging tree rocked gently in a tiny celebration of the tradition destined to overpower the blood soaked earth beneath.
The bearskin cloak was warm around my shoulders and the green in Luke’s eyes had never been brighter as the preacher, a squat but powerfully voiced man, talked about the importance of our union.
He read scripture and we repeated simple vows. Luke’s warm hands were protective over mine, cradling them like he’d never let anything happen to me again, and the seriousness of his voice when he said his own words of devotion were enough to bring steady tears to my eyes. I hadn’t come to this land looking for love, only protection, and by some small miracle I’d received both.
There wasn’t any pain as I stood here in the frosted January evening, drinking in the power that seemed to cascade from my lover’s skin. He was mine, and the rightness of him beside me, touching me, was overwhelming. I couldn’t help but smile at Trudy’s sweet sniffles from behind.
My heart was breaking in the best of ways, too.
“You may now kiss your bride,” the preacher said.
The happiness in Luke’s eyes was almost tangible. He brushed my cheek with his thumb. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to mine. His jaw worked as he caressed my mouth, and when he slipped his tongue against mine, I melted into him.
How could a man be so hardened that he broke his bones every few days, but still kiss in such a gentle way? Ignoring my burns, I threw my arms around him, bearskin cloak and all and nibbled his bottom lip. A contented growl reverberated against his chest, and he plunged his tongue past my lips again, deeper this time. I was going to burn up with the delicious taste of my mate. His hand on my neck pulled me closer, like he couldn’t get enough of the taste of me either.
I pulled away, dizzy and laughing at the hootin’ and hollerin’ carrying on behind us. As the tiny crowd
advanced to congratulate us, I knew I’d never had a moment as happy as the one I was standing in right now.
One by one, we untied the lanterns from the tree and made our way as a group to the barn. The crook of Luke’s arm was warm and the perfect fit for my hand, like it’d been made with me in mind.
The barn had all new reinforced wood around the bottom half of it, and a small hearth had been built against the back wall. Lanterns were hung every ten feet on old nails that had held dozens of lights before. Trudy and Daisy had helped me set up a table of food near the doorway and benches were hauled in and placed in front of the stalls. The animals chewed their own dinner and watched us curiously.
We descended on the food like a pack of hungry vultures. Trudy, miracle worker that she was, managed to secure the dinner from the kitchen of Cotton’s. The stove had already been started there and the recipes were easier to make in the bigger space, so we paid her a dollar and a half and got the best meal in town.
Roasted beef, chicken, mashed potatoes, red beans, creamed corn, and buttered rolls followed by an apple pie to cut the grease. Plates were cleaned until the scraping of forks and spoons could be heard against the metal of the dishes. The barn was warm but it wasn’t all due to the hearth. There was something about good conversation and merriment between growing friends that made me forget about the cold creeping in through the cracks.
The preacher left first, followed shortly by Daisy and Sheriff Hawkins, and then Elias and Trudy. In a move that shocked me, Jeremiah shouldered a leather bag and headed for his mounted horse.
“Where will you stay?” I asked.
“I’ve set up a shelter way back in the woods. A tent of sorts with a wood floor. It’ll keep the weather out fine. My wedding gift to you is giving you some space,” he said with a wink. He kissed me on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Dawson.”
The name gave me chills. I was a Dawson now, and it meant so much more that I even thought it could. Luke’s smile was proud and he kissed me on the forehead as Jeremiah patted him roughly on the back.