Branded (35 page)

The preacher directed a scowl at Grady, and then clearing his throat loudly, turned his attention back to his book.

Lacey’s gaze was drawn to the man she loved. She watched as he galloped his horse right up to the porch, swinging out of the saddle while the horse was in midstride. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

"Hold on there a minute, Mr. Reverend, sir," Dix said holding up a hand. "I would like to formally object to this, here, marriage."

"On what grounds, sir?" Reverend Smith asked.

"Isn’t it obvious? On the grounds that the groom is a jackass."

"Now, sir. That’s not really a legitimate reason for halting a wedding."

Lacey felt as though her legs might give out, they were trembling so badly. "I-I would like to second that objection," she said politely, in a wavering voice she barely recognized. She could feel Grady’s rage like a physical force.

The reverend blew out an exasperated sigh. "Why is that, Miss?"

She tilted her head in Grady’s direction. "This is the wrong Dalton."

Reverend Smith pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket and rubbed the sweat from his face. "Then ... which, if I might ask, is the right Dalton?"

She pointed at Slade. She stared straight at his chest. He was still breathing hard from the ride. Sweat soaked his shirt. She lifted her eyes to his throat and watched a bead of sweat trickle along his Adam’s apple. She finally worked up the courage to look him in the eye. His powerful blue gaze knocked the breath out of her. She imagined, she could still feel the heat of his touch on her skin.

"Do you want to marry him?" the reverend asked.

She pulled her eyes away from Slade. "Well, no, not exactly."

At her announcement, Grady threw his head back with a harsh laugh.

The reverend slammed his book shut. "That’s that then."

"Reverend Smith come in for some pie and coffee," Dora offered. "These young folks can settle things."

Reverend Smith nearly leapt at her invitation.

"Well, Slade, it looks like you’re still left with nothing. The ranch has been sold."

Slade thumbed the brim of his hat up and looked at his brother. He pulled a fold of papers from inside his coat. "Yup. I know."

"What the devil’s that?" Grady asked.

"The deed to my ranch. The Lazy Heart."

Instantly, the ranch hands crowded around Slade to get a better look at the papers. Grady pushed through the men and wrenched them from Slade’s hands. His nostrils flared as he quickly scanned them. He shoved them back at Slade.

"So it will be your money lining my pockets," he said with a sneer. "You're welcome to this worthless pile of manure. Always have hated it."

Grady stomped toward his rented buckboard. He shoved Lacey’s bags off the back. He gave one of her valise’s a vicious kick, sending it flying. As it hit the ground, her garments tumbled out onto the dirt.

"Tait," Grady called as he hauled himself up onto the wagon bench. "Tell Dora, I’ll write." The old wagon creaked as it lurched forward.

Lacey strode over to collect her bags. She picked up her strewn clothes, shaking the dust off before shoving them back in her valise.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the men congratulating Slade. She felt utterly and completely alone.

"I’m going to go tell Ma that your back, and we’re staying," Tait shouted to his brother as he hurried to the house.

She straightened from her crouch and grabbed hold of Tait as he ran by. "Tait, I need you to do me a favor. Please tell Reverend Smith that I need a ride back to town with him." Her pulse rate quickened as she heard the jangle of boot spurs behind her. Tait glanced over her head at whoever was approaching. His eyes wide with concern. Lacey whipped around and found herself face to face with Slade.

His gaze drifted to the valise clutched in her hands. "Where are you headed to, Duchess?"

"To town," she replied.

Slade gave the slightest nod of his head. Tait took it as an invitation to leave and darted away. Lacey snatched up another valise, skirting Slade she marched over and dropped them with a thunk onto the Reverend’s wagon. She could feel the heat of him at her back. His hands clamped down on either side of her, trapping her between the wagon and his hard body.

"I want you to know, I had no idea I was delivering papers that would take the Lazy Heart from you," she said.

"I know."

"I am pleased you got your ranch back. You deserve it."

He dangled her small embroidered satchel in front of her eyes. "Seems I had a little help."

"That was really Tait's doing."

"Could have sworn, I saw some of your dresses hangin' in Gertie's window."

"Maybe, I had a little to do with it," she said. "I just wanted to see you happy."

"There’s only one thing I need to make me truly happy," he whispered in her ear.

For her peace of mind, she pretended she hadn’t heard him. "The day you left, Grady threatened to lie to the sheriff about the shooting unless I remained behind to marry him. He wanted to see you behind bars."

"I suspected as much." He kissed the nape of her neck. "I want you to stay here. With me."

Her hands trembled. To steady them, she clasped the side of the wagon. Her pale hands contrasted sharply with his tanned ones. She couldn't look at him. "Thank you, but I think it's better if I earn my own keep."

"I thought you liked working on the ranch?"

"You said it yourself. I'm not suited for this life."

He scooped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He rubbed his cheek against her hair. She could feel his warm breath in her ear. "I think you're suited just fine for it."

"Let go of me, Slade Dalton."

"Not until you promise that you'll stay."

She wouldn't promise a thing. Not until she heard the words she'd been longing for.

"I thought you might consider being my wife."

She struggled out of his arms and faced him. Her heart did a flip-flop. Why did he have to be so handsome? He peered down at her, his pale blue eyes shadowed by long dark lashes, his gaze unguarded.

"Am I supposed to take that as a proposal?"

"That's how I meant it."

"I see." She squeezed out from between him and the wagon and clambered aboard the seat. She tucked her hands primly in her lap and stared in front of her. One look at him could weaken her entire resolve. "Would you mind letting Reverend Smith know than I'm ready to go anytime he is?"

"So you're refusing me?"

"Seems so, Mr. Dalton."

"I'm warning you, Lacey, I'm not giving this up," he said with a rough catch in his voice. He removed his hat, reached over, and took up one of her hands. "Besides," --he pressed his lips against the palm of her hand-- "I think, you’ll miss me."

Lacey swallowed hard as she looked down at his bent head. Why did she have to love him so much?

She reluctantly pulled her hand from Slade’s grasp. "Please look after Oliver until I can send for him."

Glancing up, she was disheartened to see the reverend approaching. Despite her bravado, she wasn't ready to leave the Lazy Heart ... to leave him.

"I hope you don’t mind if I ride with you to town?" she asked the reverend.

"Don’t be silly, my dear. It’s my pleasure. I certainly am sorry this wedding day did not work out for you."

Slade jammed his hat back on his head. His broad shoulders were set in a tense line. He didn’t move an inch as the wagon pulled away. She swallowed back the tears and looked back at him. "You know, Cowboy, the next time you ask a woman to marry you, you'd better make sure you love her first."

He ran toward the wagon and vaulted onto the running board, sending his hat flying to the dirt. The reverend pulled the wagon to a jolting stop. With apprehension, Lacey scooted a little closer to the reverend. The reverend had the good sense to climb off the other side.

She looked up at Slade. His chest was heaving. "You're the only person on the whole damn ranch that wasn't aware of my love for you."

"You love me?"

"Only from the moment you walked into my life."

She grabbed hold of his shirt, yanked him toward her, and kissed him passionately.

"I'm not waiting for you to sew any dress either. We're getting married right now."

Lacey looked across the wagon at the befuddled reverend. "It seems there will be a wedding, after all, Reverend Smith." She giggled as he rolled his eyes toward the heavens.

Slade swept her up in his arms and jumped off the wagon. She nestled against him and reached up a finger to stroke his mustache. "You sure are a romantic devil, Slade Dalton."

He stopped dead in his tracks. "Something just occurred to me."

"What's that?"

"Never heard anything about love from your lips, either."

"Tu es l'amour de ma vie," she said, repeating the words she had spoken before.

Slade quirked a brow. "Let's save that for after the wedding, Duchess."

"Silly man. It means you are the love of my life." She pulled his head down and planted kisses all over his face.

"'S that right?" he said with a crooked grin. "I was hoping as much."