Gerrity'S Bride Page 27

  “Roll up my sleeve, Em,” he said gruffly, lifting his hand from hers. He kept his eyes averted, watching the road ahead as she opened his cuff and carefully and evenly turned back the sleeve to just above his elbow.

  “Kinda warm today,” he allowed, flexing the muscle of his forearm as he enjoyed the coolness of the breeze.

  “Let me reach the other one,” she suggested, leaning across him to complete the task.

  The press of her breast against his arm as she maneuvered in the seat brought him to attention, and he grunted a muffled word beneath his breath.

  “There...isn’t that better?” she asked, settling herself once more at his side.

  He looked down at her and waited, but she was remarkably unaccommodating, to his mind. With another barely audible grunt, he lifted her hand from her lap and wound it through his arm, till her fingers rested once more against his bare flesh. With a final pat against the back of her hand, he left it there and returned his attention to the horse and the road before him.

  * * *

  Rose had been tucked into the back of the two-seated wagon, between her mother and Mrs. Hooper, her feet swinging as she anticipated a morning with Theresa. It had more than met her hopes, what with playing in the courtyard and taking turns with the shiny new jumping rope Theresa’s sister had brought with her. They’d sprawled in most unladylike postures in the shade offered by the house overhang and played with the colored jackstraws for almost an hour. And only when the sun rose almost overhead and vanquished their shady spot had they run with carefree abandon to the barn.

  There Claude had been persuaded to saddle Tessie’s horse and had allowed them to take turns riding in the empty corral, keeping a watchful eye as he replaced part of the fence. Until the twice repeated “Yoo-hoo” from the house announced her imminent departure, and a crestfallen Rose had been scooped from the back of the patient horse and sent on her way.

  Claude headed for the house himself, his duties as watchdog over, minding the call of Maria’s bell on the back porch. Dinnertime, his stomach told him, and not any too soon.

  The disconsolate face of Theresa at the table put a damper on the meal. “I don’t see why Rose couldn’t stay for a while,” she said pitifully. “Maybe even a few days,” she added hopefully.

  Emmaline’s eyes met Matt’s dark gaze and, receiving the message there, she smiled ruefully. “Not this week, Tessie.”

  “Too much goin’ on,” Matt put in firmly. “Give it a rest, Tessie. We’ll have Rose come out again.”

  The child subsided with little grace, and pushed the food about her plate with disgruntled movements of her fork.

  “Tessie, if you can’t sit up and eat your dinner, maybe you’d better just go to your room,” Matt said finally.

  Without a word, the child slid from her chair and left the dining room, her lips firmly pursed in a pout that gave silent testimony to her state of mind.

  “Matt!” Emmaline’s word of appeal was waved away with one motion of his big hand.

  “She has to learn, Emmaline,” he said firmly, “she can’t have her way all the time.”

  “Well, you could have been a little nicer about it,” she grumbled beneath her breath.

  “You both need to learn how to follow orders.” He glared at her from beneath lowered brows, then finished the meal before him, intent on heading back to his chores.

  “I only promised to obey, not follow orders like a ranch hand,” she reminded him with spirit.

  His sigh was patience personified. “Don’t start now, Em. I’ve got my afternoon all planned out, and it doesn’t include lookin’ out for you and Tessie. Just stay in the house, will you?”

  She bit her lip. It wasn’t really fair, she supposed. Matt had to work in the hot sun, out in the western part of the ranch, rounding up several of the beef yearlings to be sent to town this afternoon. Abraham Guismann held them in a lot on the edge of Forbes Junction and then had them butchered when he needed fresh meat to sell from his store.

  Any way you looked at it, it was bound to be a long afternoon for Matt and the two men who would work with him. She, on the other hand, could look forward to a quiet few hours, perhaps reading with Tessie or cutting out a new nightgown for the child, with Maria’s help.

  Her mouth tilted in an apologetic smile as she watched the tall man across the table. He’d stood and leaned against the back of the chair, one hand spread against the white tablecloth as he surveyed his wife.

  “I’ll stay inside and keep an eye on Tessie,” she promised, willing to ignore his spouting orders this once.

  Relief rode his expression, and he nodded and straightened. “Come give me a kiss, Em,” he told her, his eyes narrowing as he made his way to the end of the table, waiting till she met him there. His gaze warmed her, sliding like thick syrup down the length of her, admiring the slim lines and rounded curves of her figure beneath the blue muslin dress she wore.

  She’s a beauty, he thought as he reached for her, uncaring of Maria’s eyes as she made her way from the kitchen to clear away the remains of the noon meal.

  He embraced her roughly and bent his head to capture the pink fullness of her mouth. Scooping her against him, he closed his eyes, every sense attuned to the movement of her body against his.

  She leaned into his strength, her arms slipping about his neck with familiar warmth, her mouth forming itself to the heat of his caress. Inhaling his dark, masculine scent, she nestled against his hard chest, concentrating on the warm possession of his mouth.

  His chuckle was muffled against her as he nipped lightly at her bottom lip, and his hands moved leisurely across her back, then settled at her waist.

  “Hell, Emmaline, I’ll never get anything done today if I’m not careful. You sure taste good, lady,” he muttered, against her flesh.

  “You only asked for a kiss,” she reminded him. “No, I take that back, you commanded me to kiss you.” Her mouth smiled against his, and she whispered softly, her lips brushing against his with every syllable, “You’ll notice, I obeyed, just like a good wife.”

  “Damn,” he growled, setting her aside with purpose and scowling at the teasing light in her eyes. “You are a handful, girl.” He snapped his leather gloves from his back pocket and thrust his hands into them, his frown well in place.

  “You’ll be the death of me yet, Emmaline Gerrity,” he grumbled, heading for the hallway. “Just stay put, you hear?”

  * * *

  The sadness inherent in the story never ceased to move her, and today was no exception, Emmaline thought as she wiped tears that flowed, blurring the words on the page before her. A Tale of Two Cities, leather-bound and dog-eared, lay in her lap as she mourned the heroes of that day, sniffing her sadness and enjoying the coolness of her bedroom.

  There’d not been a word from Tessie in hours, she realized. Probably taking a nap or playing with her doll, she thought with a damp smile. She urged herself to her feet, realizing the length of time she’d spent indulging herself.

  The book replaced on a shelf near the bed and her face splashed with water from the pitcher on her dressing table, she set off to look for her small sister. With only a perfunctory rap on Tessie’s bedroom door, she opened it and peeked inside. The room was empty, the window open to the courtyard, the curtains hanging to either side in the stillness of the afternoon.

  “Tessie?” she called quietly, inquiringly, even as she recognized the silence of the empty room.

  Stepping back, she frowned and headed for the kitchen. “She’s probably pestering Maria,” she whispered to herself, her face brightening at the thought.

  But she wasn’t. The kitchen was empty, Maria having retired to the wide veranda at the front of the house, away from the sun, where she sat dozing, a pan of beans in her lap.

  “Tessie’s not here?” Emmaline scanned the yard, looking for the small figure. But to no avail. Tessie was not on the low porch with Maria, and with only the sparse bushes and low ground cover for concealment, sh
e was obviously nowhere in sight.

  Maria’s head lifted and turned, her eyes blinking away the residue of her nap. “Isn’t she with you? Or in her room?” she asked, frowning her confusion.

  Emmaline shook her head. “I was reading. When I went to look for her, she was gone.” She shaded her eyes with one hand and looked out from the house, as if she might spy a small form on the horizon.

  “She wouldn’t have gone out there,” Maria said. “There’s nothing there but what you see, and even less of it farther south.”

  “Where’s Olivia?” Emmaline asked urgently. “Maybe she took Tessie for a walk or something.”

  “Huh!” Maria’s grunt was disparaging. “I haven’t seen her all afternoon. That woman is never around lately. I think maybe she has finally taken her eyes from Mr. Matt and settled on one of the cowhands.”

  Emmaline’s look of disbelief was obvious. “I can’t imagine that would be her style,” she said bluntly. “But if she isn’t with Tessie, maybe I’d better look in the barn.” Her steps were hurried as she walked to the end of the veranda. Stepping off, she headed around the side of the house. She moved quickly, breathing deeply, aware of her rapidly beating heart and the sudden, dreadful anticipation that gripped her.

  The path to the barn had never seemed so long. The air had never been so still, and the sky never so blue.

  “No, ma’am, I sure ain’t seen her,” Claude said, removing his hat and smoothing down his sparse gray hair. “Come to think of it, her horse was in the corral before dinnertime. Maybe... Naw, one of the hands probably put it away.”

  “Her horse?” Emmaline’s heart pumped faster. “Is the mare still here?”

  “Aw, I’m sure it is, ma’am. Let’s just take a look down here in her stall.” He moved as he spoke, his gait quick, his arms pumping.

  The stall was empty, and Emmaline’s throat was suddenly filled with a lump that threatened to choke her.

  “Well, mebbe she’s out yonder in the corral. Might have missed her before,” Claude mumbled beneath his breath as he swung wide the half door that led outside.

  “Well, I’ll be switched,” he growled, casting a worried look about the pole-fenced area. “You don’t suppose that young’n set off for a ride by herself, do you?”

  “I don’t know. She was mad at Matt at the dinner table, and he sent her to her room, you know.”

  “Yeah, I heard, but she oughta know better than to ride out of here alone. I’ll take a walk around and see what I can see, anyway.”

  “Saddle my mare.” Emmaline’s tone left no room for argument, and Claude recognized that.

  “I don’t know that you should do that, Miss Emmaline,” he said, his face reflecting his doubt. “I just know Mr. Matt won’t like it.”

  “‘Mr. Matt’ isn’t here, and I am,” Emmaline answered.

  * * *

  The three young steers were determined to be a handful, but the cow pony took it in his stride, and Matt made his way to Guismann’s store in short order. It was a dusty job, and he had his mouth set for a schooner of beer at the Golden Garter when he’d completed his business with Abraham.

  “I hear the sheriff was going to head out your way this afternoon,” Abraham told him. “Said it was important.”

  Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”

  “He might still be around. He was in here ‘bout half an hour ago or so.” He calculated the credit to Matt’s account, writing the amount in his large black book, then watched as Matt’s tall figure left his store.

  The sheriff’s office was empty, and Matt stood on the boardwalk, hands on his hips, as he considered his next move.

  “Sheriff’s over at the hotel, lookin’ for the deputy,” a small boy volunteered as Matt looked back at the empty jailhouse.

  “Thanks, son,” he answered, his stride hurried as he made his way across the street.

  The lawman and his young aide were just stepping from the hotel door as he approached. Hailey Baines looked worried.

  “Got something to show you, Matt,” the older man said soberly. “A poster came in this afternoon I want you to see. We were just about to head out your way to show it to you.”

  “Where is it?” His frown had deepened, apprehension roughening his voice.

  Hailey pulled it from his inside vest pocket and unfolded the heavy paper. “Can’t tell for sure. The drawing’s kinda blurred, but it sure as hell looks like one of your hands. It says here he’s wanted for killin’ a man in a barroom fight in Texas.”

  “Let me see.” Almost snatching the paper from the sheriff, Matt scanned it quickly. “Aw, hell!” He closed his eyes and shook his head.

  “What do you think, Matt?”

  “You know what I think, Hailey. If this isn’t Kane, my apologies to the man. But I’d lay odds that I’ve been payin’ a gunfighter good money out at my ranch.”

  “Let’s take a ride, boy,” the sheriff told his deputy, and the young man hurried off to retrieve the horses tied in front of the jailhouse.

  “My horse is over at the livery stable,” Matt said, hustling down the street as he spoke. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

  “Matt!” The call was strident, and he turned to answer it.

  Hailey Baines stood in the middle of the street, his face was pulled into a worried frown. “Where’s Emmaline?”

  “Emmaline?” As he spoke her name, he felt a wave of apprehension wash through him. “She promised me she wouldn’t leave the house this afternoon. I sure as hell hope she keeps her word.”

  “There might not be any connection, Matt,” Hailey assured him. But the frown remained well in place.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The water in the creek was just as cool, rippling over the stones and washing about her feet, as it had been the last time she stood here. But today was different, and Tessie looked about with disconsolate eyes as she waded halfheartedly along the bank.

  Miss Olivia had said that it would be a secret, that they didn’t have to tell Matt about riding out here, but Tessie had begun to worry even before the ranch house was out of sight. Now the deed was done, and her small countenance darkened as she thought about it once more.

  “But then,” she whispered, her face brightening a bit, “it will be all right. Miss Olivia knows where I am, and she said she’d send Emmie out to get me in a while.” It was all the excuse she needed. Her smile was relieved, with the situation once more to her liking. Between her dismay and anger, and the urging of her teacher, she had justified the ride to the north with childish reasoning.

  “Matt will be sorry he was so mean to me, when he can’t find me anywhere,” she said to herself. The water splashed about her ankles, but the joy she’d found here last time was missing today, she realized.

  Her horse stood just a few feet away, absorbed in the grass that grew near the creek, his reins tossed over the limbs of a bush. She’d slid from his back slowly, worried that her brother would be angry. Taking her horse from the corral without permission was enough to get her the whipping Matt had promised, but never given, for major misbehavior.

  Tessie’s eyes were filled with tears of self-pity. “I’m really mad at you, Matthew,” she said stiffly. “You were mean to me.” Her mouth was drawn into a sad little moue and her hands were stuffed into the puffy pockets Maria had sewn with such care onto her pinafore.

  “I wonder if he’ll be worried about me....” Kicking at the water, she watched it splash on the hem of her dress, even though she held it in both hands, high above the stream. Turning about, she headed back the way she had come and finally climbed up on the bank, where she sat dejectedly, a picture of woe.

  It was quiet, only the rippling water and the sound of the horse snuffling in the grass, and an occasional sniffle from the child who sat hunched over by the creek bank, disturbing the silence. The heat of the afternoon lay heavy upon her, and Tessie yawned into her hand, looking about her sleepily.

  Finally, with a little sigh of discontent, she
lay down on the grass, curling her legs up beneath the dampness of her skirt and resting her head on one arm.

  “I’ll just rest a little bit, before I go back,” she promised herself in a whisper. “I wonder why Emmie didn’t come to get me yet? An’ I just bet Matt’s gonna be awful mad at me,” she said mournfully, as several more tears slid from beneath her heavy eyelids. And then she slept.

  * * *

  The ride to where they had picnicked hadn’t seemed nearly so long last time she came this way, Emmaline thought impatiently. That afternoon had been joyous, a few hours she had tucked into her memory and had taken out to examine several times already. Matt had never been so relaxed, so teasing, so filled with laughter.

  And she was certain Tessie had headed this way. “If she’s not out here, I won’t know where to look,” she admitted to herself as Fancy followed her lead, heading north toward the stream.

  Filled with the disappointment of losing Rose’s company after such a short visit, Tessie’d been fit to be tied, she knew.

  “I should have spent the whole afternoon with her.” Emmaline grumbled aloud, chastising herself. “Maybe Olivia went with her.” The thought was hopeful, but then, as quickly as it had come, she realized the futility of it.

  Fancy’s gait had slowed with Emmaline’s ponderings, and now she urged her forward at a lope, heading for the picnic spot, catching sight finally of the line of trees that bordered the creek. Within her heart, she was hoping against hope that Tessie would be there.

  The sight of a riderless horse in the distance, grazing beneath the trees, caused her knees to tighten against the sides of her mare, and Fancy broke into a gallop that mirrored the urgency of her rider. So intent was she on the small mare she recognized as Tessie’s, she failed to notice the horse and rider approaching at an angle from the west, less than half a mile away.

  Reaching to rub her hand against the neck of her mount, she leaned forward in a silent plea for speed, and the mare responded, her hooves pounding the earth with a muffled cadence. Suddenly, from her left, Emmaline heard the sound of rifle fire, and she turned to look, her hands tightening on the reins. Her eyes focused disbelievingly on the rider who approached, his gun pointing skyward, his horse angling in toward her.