Читать книгу The Courtship Of Izzy Mccree - Ruth Langan, Ruth Ryan Langan - Страница 9

The sky was still awash with stars, but Izzy knew there was no point in staying in bed. She had replayed in her mind every detail of her arrival in this strange place. She had repeated every cutting word, every stinging remark that had been uttered by Matthew Prescott. What could she possibly hope to gain by marrying him and staying here? From all she had witnessed, most men didn’t improve with age. If anything, they got worse. Could she possibly embrace the harshness of the life that loomed before her?

Still, the plight of his children tugged at her. It was obvious that they needed help. Aaron had said it all. The hogs lived better than they did. She’d seen that for herself.

And there was one other thing. She couldn’t think of a better option. She could marry Matthew Prescott or return to the life she’d left behind. And she would rather die than go back.

She only hoped that, in time, death wouldn’t prove to have been the wiser choice.

She wrapped herself in the blanket and made her way to the other room in search of her clothes. Instead of the still, silent cabin, she found a blazing fire and Matthew, seated at the table, drinking coffee.

She came to an abrupt halt. “I thought…you’d still be sleeping.”

“Long day ahead.” No sense telling her he’d been up all night, fretting. “Thought I’d get an early start.”

“Yes. I…thought the same.” She circled the table, collecting her clothes. When she picked up her chemise, she saw the way his gaze fastened on it, and her cheeks flamed.

As she started toward the bedroom, his words stopped her in her tracks.

“You’re limping, Miss McCree. Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. Yes.” She swallowed and tried again, keeping her head averted. “Nothing serious. I…stubbed my toe.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He scraped back his chair. Before she could escape he was touching her, his hand on her arm, his voice full of concern. “I’ll get a lantern.”

“There’s no need.” But she couldn’t flee. Couldn’t move. The touch of him caused a flare of heat that caught her by surprise.

“I guess, because I’m so familiar with this old cabin, I forget the need for more lanterns.” Up close she had a clean soap-and-water smell that was appealing. Even her hair smelled fresh, like a windswept meadow after a rain.

“It’s just me.” She swallowed, hating the nerves that had her quivering. But he was too close. Overpowering. She needed to step back. But the touch of his hand had her frozen. “I’ve always been clumsy.”

“I find that hard to believe, Miss McCree.” Very carefully he lifted his hand. But the heat of her body stayed with him.

“I’ll just—” she turned away, feeling confused and breathless “—get dressed now.”

In her haste to flee, her limp was even more pronounced. When she reached the bedroom, she closed the door, then leaned against it, breathing hard.

Sweet salvation. What had she been thinking of, going out there barefoot? The last thing she had expected was to find him already in the house.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the bed, where she deposited her clothes. Then, dropping the blanket, she dressed hurriedly. When she had smoothed down her skirts and carefully brushed and tamed her hair, she slipped on her new shoes and tied them.

She took a few more minutes to make up the bed and tidy the room. Then she walked slowly, evenly, to the door.

As she’d feared, Matthew was still seated at the table. To make matters worse, the children had drifted down from their sleeping loft and were busy making breakfast. Aaron, still picking straw from his hair, ambled in from the barn, carrying a bucket of fresh milk. The hounds bounded in on his heels and began sniffing around the table.

“There’s coffee on the fire,” Matt said as he lifted his cup.

“Thank you. Would you like me to help with breakfast?”

“There’s no need. The children will take care of it.”

That’s what she’d feared. Already Aaron was slicing the bloody beef, and Clement was heating last night’s biscuits over the fire.

“I could fetch some eggs,” she volunteered.

“That’s Del’s job.” Aaron wiped his knife on his pants and set a platter of beef on the table.

The little girl entered the cabin carrying a basket of eggs.

“How many did you get?” her brother asked.

“I could only find seven that weren’t broken. The hens laid some of them right in the straw where the cows walked. There were smashed eggs everywhere, Pa.”

Matt winced. “That’s all right. As long as the cows didn’t step on your hens, they’ll lay more tomorrow. Go ahead and fry up what you found.”

Del broke the eggs into a skillet, picking out eggshells as she worked. Then she set the pan over the fire. A few minutes later she carried a platter of congealed eggs to the table and everybody began spooning some onto their plates.

“Pass some to Miss McCree,” Matt commanded.

“No, thank you.” Izzy handed the platter to Benjamin and nibbled on a biscuit. She had softened it by dipping it into her coffee.

“That’s all you’re having?” Matt studied her. If anything, she looked even more pale and delicate than when she’d arrived yesterday. And far too skinny.

“I’m really not hungry.” She wondered how anyone could work up an appetite for such fare.

“I’ll have a couple of those eggs, Del.” Matt took the platter and slid a blob onto his plate.

Izzy watched in silence while the children and their father shoveled food into their mouths and ate mechanically, washing it down with gulps of milk. Whenever they bit into something hard or distasteful, they merely spit it into their hands and opened up their fingers behind their backs. One of the hounds would snap it up.

“You’re awfully quiet this morning, Miss McCree.” Aaron stopped eating for a moment to study her carefully.

“I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess—” Izzy nodded “—I guess I am.”

“Because you’re leaving?” Del asked.

“No. Just because today is a…special day.”

“What’s special about today?” Matt asked.

She turned to him and felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, Matthew, it’s our wedding day.” There. She’d said it aloud.

The children stared first at her, then at their father.

Aaron let out a whoop. “You mean it, Miss McCree? You’re going to marry Pa?”

She nodded. “As long as he agrees.”

Matt had been busy swallowing his fourth biscuit. Now it stuck like a stone in his throat, and he had to gulp a cup of scalding coffee to get it down. He glanced at his four children, then at the woman who was watching his face with such intensity. “I believe I said my piece last night, Miss McCree. All I needed was your answer.”

“Now you have it.”

With absolutely no expression he studied her, as though searching for something in her eyes. Abruptly he pushed away from the table. “I’ll hitch up the team. We have a long ride ahead of us.”

“What about the children?” she called to his retreating back.

He turned. “What about them?”

“I think it would be nice if they came along.”

He could see the pleading in the children’s eyes and tried to ignore it. “They’re needed here. To do the chores.”

“Maybe if we all pitched in,” she suggested, “we could do at least the necessary chores and leave the rest until we returned.”

“I’ll do double duty tomorrow, Pa,” Aaron promised.

“Me, too,” Benjamin put in quickly.

It was on the tip of Matt’s tongue to refuse. Instead he turned away, calling over his shoulder, “One hour. But we’ll have to catch up when we get home.”

He didn’t stay around long enough to see the excitement in the children’s eyes. But Izzy saw it and was warmed by it. Maybe what she was about to do wouldn’t seem so bad, as long as she knew they would benefit.

Wasn’t that why she had suggested they come along? She’d like to think so. But the truth was, she hadn’t wanted to be alone with her husband-to-be.

The horses and wagon had been heading downward for hours. When they had started out in the mountains, the air had been crisp and cold. But now there was only bright, clear sunshine and a breeze so fresh and clean it almost hurt to breathe it in.

Izzy was crowded onto the seat beside Matt, with Aaron next to her. In the back Benjamin, Clement and Del were laughing and teasing, clearly overjoyed at the thought of escaping their daily chores for a rare visit to civilization.

The horses crossed a long, flat stretch of meadow before splashing through a stream. Izzy held tightly to the seat of the wagon as the horses fought their way up the bank.

“Careful.” Matt caught her when she swayed. Like the first time he’d touched her, the flare of heat was instantaneous, and she had to fight the urge to push away.

“I’m fine.” She lowered her shawl and lifted her face to the sun. “Why did you build your home so high in the mountains, when the weather seems so much gentler here?”

“Look around you.” He pointed to several ranch houses in the distance. “That’s the way most folks think. They want to settle where it’s easy. Where they’ll have friends and neighbors. And pretty soon someone else will be making the rules for them. They won’t be able to move without stepping on someone else’s property. Then they’ll find themselves fighting someone else’s battles and even breathing someone else’s air.”

Izzy breathed deeply, hoping to diffuse the anger simmering in his tone. “It smells fresh and clean to me.”

“Give it time, Miss McCree. With enough people, they’ll find a way to foul even the air.”

She shot him a quick, sideways glance. “I take it you don’t have much use for people.”

“I can take them or leave them. Long as they don’t cross me or mine.”

He flicked the reins and the team moved smartly. After crossing another meadow, they looked down on a pretty valley. Clustered in the middle were several houses, as well as a saloon and a general store.

“That’s Sutton’s Station. Old man Sutton was the first to settle here. He runs the boardinghouse and stagecoach stop.”

As they drew closer, Izzy saw hat one of the houses was a dispensary, and another bore a wooden sign proclaiming it a house of worship.

When Matt turned the team toward the general store, Izzy pointed toward the church. “Shouldn’t we be looking for the preacher?”

He nodded. “That’s what I’m doing. But he won’t be there. He’s only there on Sunday. The rest of the week he can be found at the saloon.”

He pulled up in front of the store and climbed down to secure the team. Then, leaving Izzy and the children in the wagon, he made his way to the saloon.

Izzy watched his smooth, easy stride until her glance was caught by movement in the upper window of the saloon. A woman wearing what appeared to be nothing more than a chemise and petticoat stood in full view, watching her. Then she abruptly lowered the curtain and disappeared.

Izzy sat very straight and tall, wondering if the children had noticed the brazen display. But they were busy watching a group of children who had abandoned their game of hide-and-seek to walk closer and look over the newcomers.

“You here to trade goods?” a little boy called.

Aaron, Clement and Benjamin remained silent, refusing to even look at the boy.

“Uh-uh.” When her brothers refused to respond, Del chose to answer for all of them. “Our pa’s getting married today.”

“Why?” a little girl asked.

“So’s we’ll have a ma.” Del stood up in the back of the wagon and proudly tapped a hand on Izzy’s shoulder. “This is Miss McCree. She’s going to be our new ma.”

“Why would you want to take on that mangy litter of pups?” a bigger boy taunted.

His friends laughed.

“We aren’t pups,” Del shouted back. “These are my brothers. And I’m their little sister.”

That had the whole group of children laughing and pointing. “A girl? Liar. You ain’t no girl.”

“Am, too.”

“Well, if you are—” the bigger boy glanced at his friends for support “—you’re the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen.”

In a flash Aaron leapt from the wagon and grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet. “You take that back, right now, or you’ll never be able to say another word.”

“Won’t,” the boy managed to say before Aaron turned him around and wrapped his arm around his throat. Without a word he began to squeeze.

“Aaron, stop,” Izzy shouted, but he ignored her and continued to shut off the boy’s air.

When the rest of the children moved in closer, Benjamin and Clement jumped down from the wagon and held them at bay, leaving the bigger boy alone to defend himself against this young giant.

“I…take it back,” the boy finally managed to croak.

“Say you’re sorry.” Aaron’s gaze was fixed on his little sister, whose eyes were filled with tears of shame.

“I’m…sorry.”

Aaron gave the boy a shove that sent him sprawling in the dirt. “Don’t you ever call my little sister names again. Or you’ll answer to me. Understand?”

The boy nodded, too frightened to speak.

When Aaron and his brothers returned to the wagon, the boy struggled to his feet and raced away to join his friends.

It had all happened in the space of a few seconds. And yet, Izzy realized, it had widened the chasm between Matthew’s children and these children here in town. Her heart turned over at the hunger she could read in the eyes of Benjamin, Clement and Del. As for Aaron, he looked as stiff, as unyielding as his father.

“Would you like me to talk to them?” she asked. “Maybe if I did, they would ask you to play.”

“No, ma’am.” Benjamin spoke for all of them. “We’re not welcome here. They call us trash.”

“But why?”

“’Cause our ma…”

Aaron shot him a look and he turned away with a shrug. “Just because.”

In the distance Izzy could make out the shouts and laughter of the children. And the cruel taunts aimed at the strangers in the wagon.

Some things, she thought with a rush of remembered pain, never changed.

She glanced at Del, whose tears trickled down her cheeks, making dirty streaks. In an effort to soothe, she drew her close. “Shh. Don’t cry, Del. They don’t mean anything by it. A lot of folks just don’t know how to treat strangers. So they say things that are hurtful.” She wiped the little girl’s tears with the hem of her skirt. “You’re so lucky to have big brothers to look out for you.”

Del sniffled. “Do you have a big brother, Miss McCree?”

Izzy shook her head. “No. But there were times when I surely wished I did.”

Aaron touched a hand to her sleeve. “You won’t tell Pa what I just did, will you?”

“But why not, Aaron? I should think he’d be proud that you stood up for Del.”

“No, ma’am. Pa doesn’t hold with fighting.”

“But…” She thought about the war that had divided this country and sent so many of its fine men to their graves. Could it be that Matthew Prescott had refused to fight? Or had he run away, as so many had, when faced with the horror of it all?

She nodded. “I don’t see any reason to mention what you did, Aaron.”

He gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Miss McCree.”

She glanced at the open door of the store and saw an old man with his hands tucked beneath a dirty apron, studying her with grave interest.

A tiny trickle of sweat made its way between her shoulder blades and down her back. What was taking Matthew so long?

She heard strangers’ voices. A woman’s, then a man’s. Both raised in anger. Glancing at the swinging doors of the saloon, she saw the woman from the upstairs window now standing beside a bewhiskered man who seemed to be pulling on his clothes. As Izzy watched, he tucked his shirt into the waistband of his pants, then slipped his suspenders over his shoulders. Matt helped him into his jacket and handed him a hat. He accompanied Matt outside, while the woman remained at the door, looking visibly annoyed.

As the two approached, the stranger stumbled and would have fallen if Matt hadn’t caught him and held him upright. With his hand beneath the man’s elbow, Matt paused beside the wagon.

“Aaron, help Miss McCree down.”

As she climbed down, the stranger, in a courtly gesture, doffed his hat and made a slight bow. “Miss McCree, I understand you’ve come to marry this fine gentleman. This is indeed an honor. I am the Reverend Jonathon Carstairs. At your service.”

She took a step back, evading the stench of his breath. The reverend was as drunk as a skunk. And as aromatic.

She glanced at Matt. “I think…”

“You’re right. Come along, children.” He caught her hand and dragged her along, all the while holding up the preacher, while the rest of the children scrambled out of the wagon and trailed behind. “The lady thinks we should get this over quickly.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Carstairs said as he coughed, hacked, then spat in the dirt. “The night looms ahead and I still have a great many…” He glanced at Izzy and the children before finishing lamely, “Hymns to sing.”

He climbed the steps and pushed open the door to the meeting hall. After fumbling through a drawer, he came up with a dog-eared book. Then a thought occurred. “You’ll need a witness.”

“What about the children?” Izzy asked.

“How old are you, boy?” the preacher asked Aaron.

“Almost fifteen,” he replied.

“To make it legal, we need an adult,” Reverend Carstairs announced.

Matt headed for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Within minutes he returned with the man Izzy had seen in the general store. “Miss McCree, this is Webster Sutton. Web, this is Isabella McCree, my…intended.”

Now Izzy understood why Sutton had kept his hands hidden beneath his apron. His left hand was missing, and his shirtsleeve hung limply over a bony wrist.

Webster offered his right hand to Izzy, looking her up and down as he did. “Ma’am. Like I said, Matt, I can’t spare much time. The wife’s ailing. How do, Aaron, Benjamin, Clement, Del.”

Before the children could acknowledge his greeting, the preacher said abruptly, “Time’s a-wasting. Let’s get started.” He was leaning heavily on a wooden stand that held a hymnal, and he probably would have toppled forward without its support. “Did you two come here of your own free will?”

Izzy and Matt avoided each other’s eyes as they nodded.

“Will you, Matt…” He squinted. “What’s your given name?”

“Matthew Jamison Prescott.”

“Will you, Matthew Jamison Prescott, take this woman for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do you part?”

Matt’s tone was hoarse. “I will.”

“And will you, Isabella McCree, take this man for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do you part?”

Izzy chewed her lip. “I will.”

The preacher glanced at Matt. “Did you bring a ring?”

Izzy felt the heat of embarrassment color her cheeks. But to her amazement, Matt reached into his pocket and withdrew a small gold band.

“You may place the ring on her finger, Matt.”

Matt did as he was told.

“Now repeat after me. With this ring I thee wed.”

Matt’s voice was low and deep, more nearly resembling a growl as he repeated the words.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

At the same moment that Matt bent forward, Izzy stepped back. The thought of kissing him for the first time in front of his wide-eyed children, a drunken preacher and an impatient shopkeeper had her face flaming.

To cover the awkward moment, Matt shook hands with Webster Sutton and Jonathon Carstairs, slipping the preacher a dollar as he accepted a signed document. Then he caught Izzy’s hand and led her and the children outside.

“Well.” He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her. “I thought I’d pick up some supplies before we leave. Do you need anything?”

She shook her head and walked along, struggling to keep up with his impatient strides. “I’ll go inside with you, though.”

“We can’t spare much time.” He waited for her to precede him through the open doorway.

Inside he gave Webster Sutton a list of supplies, then he and the children helped load them into the back of the wagon. There were sacks of flour and sugar, a pouch of bullets, another pouch of tobacco and a packet of coffee beans.

Matt came up behind Izzy, who was standing at the counter staring at the jar of candy sticks. “Would you like one?”

“Oh, no.” She glanced away. “I was just thinking about the children.”

“Wouldn’t want to spoil them,” he muttered.

“No. Of course not.” She swallowed her disappointment and turned away, heading toward the wagon, where the children had already settled.

A few minutes later Matt shook Webster’s hand before walking out. He climbed up to the wagon seat and flicked the reins. The team started up with a jolt. And within minutes, the town of Sutton’s Station was left in their dust.

When they were once again climbing toward their mountain cabin, Matt reached casually into his pocket and withdrew a handful of candy sticks.

The children’s eyes went wide with surprise and pleasure.

“Miss Mc—” He cleared his throat and started over. “Isabella wanted you to have something to celebrate our wedding,” he said as he passed the candy around.

Izzy experienced a jolt of pleasure so unexpected she had to stare hard at her hands to keep from clapping them together in delight. She had wanted so desperately to erase the jeers and insults the children had endured. And now, at least for a few minutes, they would know only sheer joy.

“Ooh.” There were long sighs and exclamations as the children accepted the special treats and popped them into their mouths.

Matt handed one to Izzy. “I thought you might like one, too.”

“Thank you.” She took a long, slow taste. “Peppermint. It’s my favorite. How did you know?”

He seemed suddenly pleased with himself. “I didn’t know. I had to guess. I just liked the color.”

“Did you get one for yourself?”

He shook his head. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll have a smoke.”

He lifted the cigar from his pocket, studying it a moment. Back at the store, he had debated the expense of such luxuries. Now, when he saw the happiness in his children’s eyes, not to mention his new bride’s, it seemed the perfect touch.

He scratched the end of a match, holding the flame to the tip. Breathing deeply, he emitted a stream of smoke that curled around his head before dissipating into the air.

“Miss McCree, now that you’re married to Pa, what should we call you?” Del asked from the back of the wagon.

“How about my given name, Isabella?”

“Isabella.” Del managed the word around the sticky candy, since she couldn’t bear to take it out even for a moment. “It sounds…musical.”

“If you’d rather not…”

“Oh, no. It’s pretty. I like it,” the little girl assured her. “It’s just so fancy. But it sure does suit a fancy lady like you.”

As the team ate up the miles, Izzy was left to ponder what she had just done. Was it wrong to pretend to be something she wasn’t? Was that the same as lying?

She chanced a quick sideways glance at the rugged profile of the man beside her. If he learned the truth, would he have the right to declare their marriage a lie, as well, and order her back to Pennsylvania?

And what of the children? What would they think if they ever learned the truth about her?

To calm her racing heart she reminded herself that she was thousands of miles away from anyone who had ever known her. Her past was dead and buried. She was now Mrs. Matthew Jamison Prescott. From now on, her life was whatever she chose to make it.