by Rita Hestand
"A person does a good turn; doesn't mean he has to be paid for it. No, I won't agree to that in any way. You work this place, it's yours, despite what your father says."
"You're being very generous, why?" She looked skeptically at him. "I was figuring on a profit this year."
"Us getting married, that's enough, he'll die happy, that's all that matters to me." Cole told her in no uncertain terms.
"You really care about him, don't you?" She stared for a moment.
"I guess I do. I guess I never realized how much until he told me he was sick. Sometimes, you take things for granted, like things will never change, but they do."
It got very quiet now. He glanced at her a time or two, and thought he saw a tear in her eye too.
He'd never felt this much emotion since his folks died. He'd always told himself that if he ever did marry, it would be forever, and because he loved the woman, but this was not going to be the case and the word divorce didn't set well either. They weren't even married, and she was talking divorce. It rubbed on him.
When they arrived, there was a buggy and a horse tied up out front. Cole got down and helped her down, noticing how light she was. She wasn't skinny, but she was lean. Her eyes met his when he set her on the ground.
They went inside, and the doc was leaning over Harmon, when he looked up at Gabby, he shook his head.
Gabby's face flushed, and tears sprang to her eyes, but she never let them fall.
"Gabby is that you baby?" Her father called.
"Yes Dad, it's me." She steadied herself and went to take his hand in hers.
"Where you been?"
"I fetched Mr. Martin."
"Good. Since the reverend is here, can you marry my daughter to Cole Martin, sir?" Harmon asked in a weak but controlled voice.
The reverend looked from Gabby to Cole. "You two want to marry?"
Cole came forward then. "Yes sir, since he's so sick, can we do it right here, right now?" Cole asked.
The reverend looked at Harmon, "Well, it's highly irregular, but I suppose I can…"
"Good."
"Gabby, can I see you out on the porch for a minute," Cole asked her.
"Sure, I'll be right back dad."
"Okay baby…"
When she came outside, she stared at him with her hands on her hips. Cole looked at her. "I'm not exactly dressed for a wedding, but I would like to wash up, comb my hair and all."
A tendril of his long hair blew across his face, and she reached to move it. It was a reflex action and she blushed when she realized she'd done it.
He smiled.
"You have nice hair for a man. I mean, most men, they let it get so dirty."
Her compliment took him by surprise, and then a slow burning smile edged across his face.
She glanced at his long hair, that shined down his back. "I'll get you a washbowl and a towel. Don't worry, dad will never know the difference."
"It doesn't bother you?" He asked, a bit surprised.
"No, why should it. You were working, and I pulled you away from your work. Nothing wrong with a man doing an honest day's work. You certainly weren't prepared for a wedding, and I didn't expect you to be. The fact that you're willing to do this at all, makes everything good. He'll die a happy man."
"Gabby," he reached for her by the arm, until she turned to stare into his eyes. "I'm sorry he's dying. I'll miss him too."
Moved by his words, she flicked a tear away. "Thanks for saying that. It means a lot." She couldn't smile though. The thought of her father dying overwhelmed her.
She set him up on the kitchen counter and he washed up. He couldn't do anything about trimming his five o'clock shadow of a beard, so he left it.
When he came toward the bed, his hair was neatly combed back, and his eyes sparkled at her as she smiled a bit.
Cole hadn't expected that smile, it transformed the rather serious look on her face into sunshine. Sunshine! She was beautiful.
He cleared his throat.
"Well now," the preacher got his bible out of his little bag and told them to stand before him. He positioned them, so Harmon could see the whole ceremony.
Cole hadn't expected such a long sermon, but the preacher wanted to do it up right, he supposed, for Harmon's sake. He recited all the marriage vows. Cole suddenly listened more intently. Even though he could be a real rascal, Cole believed in the good book and these vows homed in on his heart. He hadn't planned on such a religious ceremony, but since it was, it seemed to mean a little more to him.
The preacher instructed him to take her hand. Cole wrapped his hand around hers. Her hand was soft in places, callused in other. She had worked hard, he noted. It gave him an immediate respect for the little lady.
But when the preacher asked for a ring, Cole didn't have one.
"I'm sorry…I don't seem to have one." Cole cleared his throat.
The doc was staring at them and then suddenly jumped up, went to his bag and came back with a small golden ring. "It was my wife's. Now it's yours, Gabby."
"Oh Doc," she cried and kissed him on the cheek.
The doc nodded, and the preacher proceed with a slight grin.
When he pronounced them man and wife the reverend waited for Cole to take her in his arms, when he didn't, he nudged him. "You can kiss the bride now."
Cole looked at her, then Harmon, then back to her.
"You don't ha…" but she didn’t' get the sentence out before his lips came down on hers in a kiss that swept them both away from this time and place. Her hands might have been callused, but her lips were soft, and they moved beneath his just a tad and his arms tightened around her.
He meant to just kiss her and be done with it, but the way her lips responded to his, made him linger and enjoy it. There was something about that kiss. She might be a bit inexperienced, but the wild in her took over and she responded in kind.
When he let her go, she was stunned into silence but not without blushing profusely.
"Thank you, Cole." Harmon nodded, "You don't know what it means to me…" He tried to grin, but his breathing was so labored he barely got the words out.
Cole nodded, "I think I do…now!" Cole grinned.
"Rest easy, partner."
When Gabby fixed everyone some lunch, the doc, the preacher, and Cole sat at the table while Gabby went to feed her father some chicken broth.
Cole watched her, being so patient with her father, he sensed the closeness they shared. She was quite a lady, he surmised. His first impression of her had been way off, he decided.
When she went to put his dishes up, Cole was walking out the front door.
"You are leaving now?" She asked softly behind him.
They were on the porch and in the sunlight her hair caught fire. He turned around to look at her in the doorway. It took his breath away. "Yeah, I gotta take care of a few things."
"Of course, I wanted to thank you for your doing this. Dad will rest easier now. It's been weighing on his mind a while. I know it was asking a lot, but I won't trouble you any longer. So…thanks." She started to turn around and go, but he reached out a hand to her and pulled her onto the porch.
"Wait…first I wanted to say, something. You see, I think a lot of that ole man in there. More than you imagined, or I realized. And I do understand his worry. I admired him for trying to take care of his obligations. I'm glad I could help. But…I want you to know, if you need anything…want anything, you know where to find me…and it's yours."
There was a tear in the corner of her eye now, "No, you've taken care of the last of his worries. That's all I'll ever ask of you Mr. Martin."
"Well," He stammered for words now. "Maybe so, but I want you to know that I promised I'd see after you. I aim to do it." He moved off the porch now, toward his horse that was tied up at the hitching post in front.
"See after me," her voice tightened a notch as she stared after him. "Oh, that won't be necessary. I can take care of myself. I'm not some weak, helpless woman, Mr
. Martin. I've lived here practically alone all my life, I've worked this land, know it like the back of my hand, and I won't be calling on you for another thing. You've done your part, and I really appreciate it, but your obligation is over now."
Cole frowned and mounted and then smiled sexily at her, "You forget one thing, you are Mrs. Cole Martin now, and that makes you my wife, and my obligation, and I will see after you all I want. You can be as independent as you please, but I will see after you…for the rest of your life."
Her mouth fell open in shock. "The rest of my life? I am not an obligation, I'm a woman…"
"Yes ma'am, you are that." He smiled, tipped his hat and rode off in a gallop.
She stood staring after him for a long moment, then finally she went inside to her father. She wasn't sure what to make of Cole Martin. This was only a bargain for her father's happiness, that's all it was, all it could be!
Chapter Four
Cole rode back to Harmon's place that night. He worked hard all day, and then trying to examine his own feelings about marrying Gabby. So far, she'd done all the rule making.
He couldn't get the ole man out of his mind, nor the kiss out of his heart. She might not be a lot of things, but that kiss was the best he'd ever had. He wouldn’t be forgetting that either. It appeared she kissed as hard as she worked.
He glanced about her property as he rode up. The corral was in good shape, the barn look tended to, the house was nothing special, but it was solid.
The chickens were well fed, the hog was happy, and he could tell when he drove the wagon, her horses had been well cared for. She was a damned good little rancher.
He couldn't help but wonder if this Gabby, this Mrs. Martin had any idea about those men. It weighed heavy on his mind. He wasn't sure he should tell her just yet. He didn't want to worry her. But somehow, he had to handle this for her, whether she wanted him to or not.
Harmon was dying, and someone should be with the girl, his thoughts drifted in and out as he rode closer. Despite the tough exterior she presented, he somehow knew she wouldn't handle his death easily, because there was one thing, he understood about her. One thing, he knew for certain about her, was that she loved that old man. And what he'd come to understand about himself was that he loved him too. He had to see Harmon again. But the doc's buggy was gone, and the Preacher's horse was gone and only one small lamp in the front room was lit. He felt it, more than knew it. Harmon was dead. Something about death announced itself.
He heard the music of crickets, the moonlight afforded him a first-hand look at the place. She worked her fingers to the bone, but the place was a nice-looking spread.
He opened the door with a sense of trepidation, and a heavy sigh and what he saw had him taken aback. He stared at the stark site of a casket on a table creating an eerie shadow on the wall and Gabby sitting in the semi-darkness, staring at nothing. It was so quiet. She was so alone, and his heart went out to her for the moment. He didn't stop to realize how heavy a moment this was for him too.
He could feel her tears before he ever saw them. Funny how that worked. He'd only known her a short while and yet, somehow, someway, he could read her like a book.
He came closer, his boots echoing. "He's…gone?" Cole frowned looking at her, his voice raspy.
She glanced up slowly, "Y-yes, yes he is." She said quite finally. She was silent a bit longer then she added, "he was so happy when he went. We were never closer, than in that moment. He took my hand, squeezed it, and then he said he was going to be with my mother now. He was smiling, happy that we…"
She cried.
He grabbed her up into his arms and cradled her head just under his chin while she cried. It was a new experience for Cole, he'd rarely held a woman that he hadn't taken. She buried her head against his shoulder. Her tears were genuine. She had every right to cry. She was so damned alone now, and it homed in on him. He absorbed her loneliness.
"I'm glad we made his last moments happy." Cole whispered.
She lifted her head from his strong shoulders, glancing up at him, the tears still fresh on her cheeks.
"I'm sorry, I don't usually cry…."
He offered her his handkerchief.
"You have every right to, he was your father." Cole told her, his voice soft and soothing in the stillness of the room. "And I know you loved him."
The silence echoed against the flickering flame of the lantern. The smell of death surrounded them.
He wanted to offer her some solace, some comfort, but he wasn't groomed for such a role.
It was the first time he paid much attention to the house itself, but it had a few womanly touches here and there, and it was clean. There were no dirty dishes, no dust on the floor.
"When do you want the funeral?" He asked her softly.
"Tomorrow afternoon. Some of his friends are coming in the morning, then I'll bury him…" She murmured, wiping her eyes.
"No, we'll bury him." He corrected.
"I can't ask you…."
"You don't have to ask." He told her. "He was my friend."
She pulled away and stared at him, "You really did like him, didn't you?"
"That surprises you?"
"A little. There were very few people he liked. He mentioned you a lot."
"Did he? What did he say?" Cole couldn't help but ask.
"Just that you were a man of your word, that he trusted you more than most, that you had a sense of humor and you were damned good with horses."
Cole smiled. "Well, I can tell you that he loved his poker, even though he lost, most times, he loved music and dancing, and he could tell the best of stories. Some people came just to hear him tell them too."
He glanced over at the casket, "Yeah, I did care for the old man. Guess that sounds a bit strange to you. But, you see, I rarely played poker that he didn't sit in at least one game. He sure enjoyed playing. It didn't matter that he never won a game. I guess you could say he was the best loser I ever saw. Never got mad. Never upset. Just happy to be there. And he always lost…" Cole remarked with a slight smile. He shuffled his feet and glanced at the casket once more. "When he'd get down to his last money," He leaned toward her, and smiled. "He'd sit there and watch the game and talk. I guess I got used to him being there. He'd tell stories about people we all knew and things we never knew. He talked about the war a lot. How he fought for a lost cause, how he respected how well some men died. Said it was the saddest of all wars and he hoped there would never be another one like it. I got used to him, expected him, and then one Saturday when he wasn't there, well, it wasn't the same. It won't be the same now. You can get used to someone being around easily enough." He explained. "Every story he told had so much heart…"
"I know, a lot of the time he was around the place, but rarely said much." she went to stand before him now. "He loved playing poker." She grinned now, "He took half the egg money to play poker every week. The way I looked at it, he didn't drink, but he loved to play. Since the love of his life was gone, I felt the least I could do was give him enough to play every week. He never complained not once. He took the money begrudgingly and would smile like God himself was looking at him."
"Didn't leave much for you though, did it?"
"I didn't need much."
"I think you did. I think you've needed things for a long time now. As many stories as he told, he never spoke of having a wife or a daughter. That's why it was such a shock to meet you. Who'd have thought he could keep a secret like you and your mother?"
"I guess he managed to keep a lot of things secret. He was crazy about my mother." She reflected, her voice changing a bit as she spoke. "They were so happy when she was alive. He'd come in from the field, dirty, sweaty, and scoop her up in his arms and dance her around the room. As tired as he was, he wanted to be close to her all the time. And I watched them love each other and felt so proud. Even I remember that. But then she got bit by a rattler, I was seven at the time, she'd gone out on the porch to get some wood, and a rattler wa
s just sitting there waiting for someone to come along, and she was gone before we could get her to the docs. After that dad changed. The happiness in him died with her. We must have gone a year around here not even speaking to each other. Holdin' in our misery. Oh, he'd try to look happy, for my sake, but there was such a sadness in him. He told me she made him laugh. He said that was a powerful thing to give to people…. laughter."
"He must have loved her dearly."
"Yes, he did, we both did."
Cole's glance slid to her once more. This young, and beautiful woman had endured a lot, but there was no bitterness in her. Only love for her father.
"You know, everyone knew he didn't have much money…" Cole came up behind her. "I don't guess he was able to tell you about the last game he played at the saloon. It was something. At last he had a winning hand, or so he thought. And he bet a filly against my hand."
"A filly, he doesn't own a filly."
"That's what I thought too, but you see, according to him, you were the filly. That's how he got me out here. I came to pick up a horse and he was talking about you."
"So, I was a bet?" She turned to look at him.
"He knew what he was doing, Gabby. And I got to give the man credit, he was doing right. Funny, a lot of people didn't think he had much sense, but I've come to know that isn't true. His concern for you led him to it. He called you a filly right until we stood out there on the porch that night. Then he told me. I was shocked. I figured he had an old nag or something he wanted to get rid of. I certainly wasn't expecting anything else."
"I'm sorry he did that to you. It wasn't fair, but I do want you to understand something." She gazed into his eyes now. "I know you are an honorable man, a good man. Dad told me enough times. But…just because we married doesn't mean you have any responsibility here. Do you understand?" She looked up at him with respect and something else, he couldn't define. "The wedding was a ruse for my father, that's all. You did him a great favor, and I'm appreciative of it. Really. But you don't owe me anything."
"That's what you keep telling me, Ordinarily, I'd agree. But— I took you to wife, you are my responsibility. You see, you don't know me very well or you'd know I don't commit to something lightly. I fought Harmon on this. But the more he talked, the more I realized he was right. You were his only child, and he loved you. And more than anything he wanted to make sure you were taken care of. Now, I loved that old man too. I didn't realize how much until the other night. I won't get in your way, but I will look in on you from time to time and if you ever need anything, I expect you to come to me and tell me first. I am your husband, and if you're ever in trouble, I expect you to tell me, first. Understood?"