Catherine's Awakening (12 page)

“Can you hand me my clothing?” she asked after a pause. “Are any of them still out

there waiting for me?”

“No, Dad chased them off,” he said. “But they’ll be waiting for us. You have to

marry me, otherwise you’ll never be able to face your friends again.”

“What if I leave instead?” she asked. “Will you let me?”

“I’d follow you,” he said simply. “I won’t give up on you, Catherine, but I won’t

hold you prisoner.”

“What about the ranch?” she asked. “Your plans? Your father?”

“With any luck you’d change your mind and we could come home,” he replied. “I

don’t want to give up my dreams. But I don’t want to force you to, either.”

“That’s a nice sentiment, given that I’m just about out of options. You’ve got me

trapped, so you can afford to be kind,” she said, her voice tart. Wisely, Wade didn’t say

anything.

He handed her the blue dress and she tried to put it on. Not an easy task under a

wagon, and then she realized that it wouldn’t possibly fit without her corset. Wade

sighed and handed her his long overcoat without a word. She pulled it on and crawled

out from under the wagon, face bright red with shame. John might have chased their

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immediate audience away, but distant, judgmental gazes still followed her as she

scuttled over to the tent. Maria stood inside, her eyes wide.

“I was so worried about you,
 
señora
,” she said. “You weren’t here last night, and

José said to just go to bed. But then all the people showed up and started talking, so I

came out to see…”

Her voice trailed off, and she blushed almost as fiercely as Catherine.

“Are you going to marry him?” the girl asked. “If you don’t, people are going to say

terrible things about you.”

Catherine shrugged her shoulders, then sat down on her bedroll, dropping her

head into her hands. Why had she done it? Everything she’d wanted had been right

there for the taking, and yet she let herself go to Wade—no, practically forced herself on

him, all because she didn’t want him lusting after this pretty Mexican girl.

“I don’t know how this happened,” she said finally. Maria nodded knowingly.

“It was that cider,” she said. “José told me not to touch it, because it would make

me drunk. He said cowboys can’t be trusted around pretty girls.”

Catherine laughed weakly, wishing she could blame the cowboy in her life for

everything, but that wasn’t really fair. She’d done it to herself.

She knew what she had to do—she had to marry Wade Masters, and the sooner the

better. Sure, she could take her gold eagles and set out on her own. Texas was a big

state, and nobody would ever know about her tainted past unless she told them. But

she didn’t want Wade to leave his home. He’d be miserable away from the ranch. And

he was right about one thing—there was opportunity to be had here, for people who

worked hard and smart. She could make good things happen with him if she chose.

“I’m going to marry him,” she said slowly, looking over to Maria. “Today, I guess.

That’s what they suggested. I suppose Wade will talk to the minister.”

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“Well, you’ll be lucky in one way,” Maria said, her voice matter-of-fact. “There are a

lot of people here to celebrate if you get married right now. Not everyone gets a party

that big.”

“That’s certainly true enough,” Catherine said, laughing weakly. “I suppose I

should get dressed. Can you help me?”

Maria nodded quickly, and offered her an encouraging smile.

“You’ll be all right,
 
Señora
 
Masters,” she said. “He’s a good man. José says so, and

he would know. We’ve met bad men before. During the war.”

Catherine nodded her head, understanding Maria completely. Wade was a decent

man in a country where too many devils came looking for opportunities. She could

build a life with him. And Lord knew, the sex was good. She laughed at that thought,

wondering if she’d lost her mind.

* * * * *

Wade stood at the front of the barn, his suit brushed and straightened as much as it

could be under the circumstances. The day had flown by, with several of the town

ladies coming together to clean and press Catherine’s dress while others prepared food.

Maria had woven a lovely ring of flowers for her hair.

The wedding took place in the late afternoon, and almost everyone who’d come for

the dance had opted to stick around for the nuptials. Catherine’s cheeks burned bright

as John walked her down the center toward Wade, who looked grimly handsome. As

she took his hand, he stared straight ahead, and if his expression held any triumph he

managed to keep it under control. The minister seemed faintly disapproving, as if it

pained him to officiate at the joining of two such immoral people, but the mayor looked

on proudly and John Masters’ expression was fierce enough to quell anyone who might

feel the need to whisper.

The minister launched into the brief ceremony, and Catherine felt herself grow

almost dizzy as the words of the service washed over her. When she’d married Ryan

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she’d been filled with hope and excitement, yet the marriage had been a nightmare.

Perhaps this was better, to go into it knowing what to expect from Wade. He would be

good to her, she knew that in her bones. But why, oh why had she let herself get

trapped into this?

Then Pastor Eddings called upon them to exchange their vows, and her chest went

tight. She turned to look at Wade, and his large hands took hers gently. His green eyes

were bright with an emotion she didn’t want to name, one that she thought she might

understand. She felt a bit of it too. Because for all her protestations, she was a little

excited about the marriage.

The thought stunned her.

Marriage to Wade excited her
. She looked at him, watching his mouth form his vows,

and realized she felt happy to hear them. Then she noticed the minister had stopped

talking, and that everyone was looking at her.

“I do,” she said quickly, blushing. Wade smiled, the grim cast of his mouth finally

breaking. She smiled back, suddenly shy, and decided that she really didn’t mind losing

out on the teaching job so much. In fact, she wondered if a part of her hadn’t truly

wanted it in the first place. Sure, she’d had some cider to drink the night before. But had

she really been too drunk to go back to the tent?

It probably didn’t bear thinking about.

“Do you have the ring?” the minister asked. She looked up, startled. Wade couldn’t

possibly have a ring so quickly—why was the minister reminding everyone that this

wasn’t a planned event? To her surprise, John handed something to Wade. He took her

left hand and slid a ring onto her finger, a beautiful star sapphire that matched her

eardrops. Her eyes went wide.

“I am pleased to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Wade Masters,” the minister proclaimed,

and the barn erupted with cheers and shouts of approval. Wade pulled her close, giving

her a long kiss and fueling the fire for the cowboys surrounding them. They started to

whoop and holler, and then music burst forth for dancing.

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After the first kiss, Catherine hardly saw Wade again for the rest of the evening.

Every man there wanted to dance with her, stealing kisses and offering Wade

congratulatory thumps on the back. Each time she came close to him, laughing friends

pulled them apart, and every matron was as eager to dance with Wade as their menfolk

were to dance with Catherine.

But no party lasts forever, and finally John came up to her, pulling her from her

latest partner and walking her over to Wade. They left together in a wave of hooting

and catcalls, climbing up into the buckboard and driving toward town. Some of the

rowdier cowboys ran alongside them, while others went to get their horses and wagons.

When she heard the first round of congratulatory gunshots, Catherine started to get

nervous.

“Where are we going?” she asked Wade, raising her voice to be heard over their

carousing escorts.

“George Reynolds is letting us borrow his house tonight,” Wade called back,

shooting her a grin. “Figured we’d never survive the chivaree if we didn’t have four

solid walls around us.”

“We might not make it anyway,” she said, looking around with wide eyes. There

had to be thirty or forty men pacing them, and she could hear others on horses coming

up behind. At this rate, half the town would be after them. “They won’t damage

anything, will they?”

“I hope not,” Wade said. “I’d hate to have to rebuild Reynolds’ house for him. He’s

a brave man to lend his place out for a wedding like this one. Especially since he just

lost his teacher.”

The crowd followed them all the way to the house, where a concerned-looking Mr.

Reynolds met them at the door, flanked by his birdlike little wife, Martha. Wade helped

Catherine out of the wagon, tossing the reins to José, who’d followed with the crowd.

The men settled down as he lifted Catherine, carrying her over the threshold, then let

up a mighty yell as they quickly pulled the doors shut.

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The Reynolds house was one of the finest in town, two stories tall with a tiny

balcony above the front porch. Martha Reynolds showed them to the master bedroom,

looking more than a little nervous as the crowd outside grew larger and louder. Her

husband followed, muttering to himself. Catherine heard women’s voices now, and

realized wagonloads of revelers had arrived from the barn.

“I hope you have a plan for dealing with them,” George Reynolds said as he stood

at the door. “Otherwise they’ll break in and take you to the creek for a dousing, Wade.

Mrs. Masters, you might want to get ready for a wheelbarrow ride.”

A new volley of gunshots fired outside, and Catherine gave a little shriek. She and

Ryan had eloped—now she wished she and Wade had been smart enough to do the

same thing.

“I’ll talk to them,” Wade said. “Don’t worry.”

Mr. Reynolds nodded his head, and shut the door on them. Catherine stood by the

bed, listening to the ruckus outside. Wade gave her a reassuring smile, then stepped to

the French doors that opened onto the balcony. The drunken cowboys gave a great roar

when they saw him, but they quieted down as soon as Wade held up his hands.

“Why are all of you here?” he asked, his tone light and easy. “I know you like a

good chivaree, but I’ve got work to do in the bedroom. Can’t you give a man some

peace?”

The crowd roared again, and Wade gave a sharp laugh.

“I suppose you want something more to make you leave us alone?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll give it to you!”

He pulled a heavy bag from his pocket, one she hadn’t noticed before, and opened

it. Then he reached in and drew out a handful of coins, throwing them to the crowd

below. He kept it up for several minutes, laughing and calling down to the people

below, and Catherine wondered just how much he had in there. The rowdy group

hollered and stomped their approval, scrambling in the rain of cash. Catherine moved

cautiously toward the French doors, awed by the way Wade so easily managed their

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pursuers. Then a man called out her name, and she realized she’d made a fatal error.