Liberty Belle (34 page)

Hat in hand, he knelt before her. “Libby, I know I have a lot of things to explain. As deputy, I won’t be able to provide like you’re accustomed. … There’s a valley. A perfect place to start a ranch.”

He bowed his head for an instant. Then gazed into her eyes. “What I’m trying to say … would you be my wife?”

Joy exploded inside her. A real proposal. Not one contrived by her mother.
He loves me.
  “Yes, a thousand times, yes. I—”

In one quick move, he folded her in his arms and smothered her words with a kiss. Long and passionate, the kiss sealed her heart with his.

Fuego nickered.

Wade broke their connection. He held her at arm’s length and gazed behind her.

Libby put a finger to his cheek to regain his attention. “Soon? This week?” If only they were married before Mother arrived.

He nodded, but his gaze slid behind her.

She turned and saw a man on a gray riding into the hills. In fact, he looked like the same one who’d ridden to the barn at Rowen’s earlier. “Do you know that man?”

“No.” A shadow swept over his eyes.

She wanted to question him, but somehow knew what he didn’t say was for her protection. Her heart melted all over again.

He gave a reassuring grin. “Soon as I find us a place to live, we’ll find a preacher. There is one thing, Mark comes with me.”

“Wade, of course. He looks to you like a father. I hope in time he’ll consider me like a mother. Everything will work out. God’s plans, you know.” Trusting in the Good Lord was easier than she’d thought possible.

Relief twinkled in his eyes. “Thanks, I plan on starting a ranch and raising horses—”

“I can help. I know how to train them. I—”

He shook his head. “Slow down. Let’s find a place to live first, and you can give Mr. Rowen notice to find another teacher to take your place.”

Libby grinned. “Let’s get married this Saturday.”

“That only gives me two days to find a place.”

She gazed into his eyes and used the female persuasion she could. If they were married, Mother couldn’t spoil things.

“Well ….”

She pouted. “You do want to marry me?”

“Yeah … just wasn’t planning on doing it in a couple of days.” He cocked his head. “Is there a reason for this rush?”

Libby smiled and shrugged. “No, not really. I simply love you so much I don’t want to wait.”

How could she tell him? Hopefully, God had a plan on how to deal with Mother.

Chapter 34

On the ride back to Flora’s, Wade tried to think, but his mind wandered in too many directions. Who was the man on the gray, and why would an outlaw have business with Libby’s boss? Where would he find a place for them to live in less than two days? Was he crazy?

He grinned. Crazy in love. Even with her steady barrage of questions and sweet talk that kept his ears ringing, he’d never been happier. He loved her, and she’d said yes.

“Wade, would you drive me to Rowen’s?”

 “Of course. I can’t wait for the day when I take you to our home.”

She nestled against his chest. “Can you believe it, Mr. and Mrs. Wade Calder?”

Only two days and then Saturday, he wasn’t sure why her rush to the altar, but with her next to him, he really didn’t care.

“Wade? Aren’t you excited?”

“What? Yeah, just thinking of all I have to do.”

Fuego stumbled over a loose rock.

Libby gripped his arm. She relaxed and sigh softly. “You may have to wait a few minutes while I tell Flora.”

“Take all the time you need.” He smiled at the dreamy expression on her face. He’d give her anything and everything she wanted. The sun warmed his back but didn’t compare to the warmth she brought to his heart.

Outside Flora’s, Wade dismounted and whisked Libby to the ground. “Want me to go with you?”

Pink spread over her cheeks. “No, if you don’t mind, that is. There’ll be woman talk.”

Now he felt his own face go hot. “I’ll be in the saloon but sit where I can watch for you. I’m thirsty for a sarsaparilla.” He grinned as her small frown disappeared into a dimply smile.

She blew him a kiss. “I shouldn’t be long.”

###

Standing on the porch of her cabin, Libby waved to Wade, but the shadows of night had already swallowed him. She hadn’t meant to stay at Flora’s so long.

She clutched the package her aunt had given her. Two new skirts and blouses along with the promise of a wedding dress by Saturday. Flora was such a blessing. Daisy had agreed to help, too.

Libby entered the cabin and set the bundle on her table. The loud thud caused her to cringe. After telling her aunt about the rowdies that hung around Mr. Rowen’s barn, Flora insisted she take the pistol. Not wanting him to worry, Libby didn’t tell Wade about the gun or the rough visitors.

Tomorrow morning, she’d inform Mr. Rowen that he’d have to find another teacher. A momentary pang of guilt ambushed her joy. She did care for the children and would miss them, but she was marrying the man of her dreams, and nothing and no one was going to stand in her way. Not even Mother.

Her heart danced. Handsome and strong, Wade would provide her with plenty of adventure and love. She’d never felt that way about Thomas. She sighed. The day she’d been left stranded at her own wedding seemed like another lifetime ago. Her worst day turned into the best when Wade saved her from falling.

She shook out the new skirts and blouses Flora had sewn for her. One a delightful shade of forest green, the other a light sky-blue. She rubbed a finger over the material and fought a feeling of disappointment. Back home, she owned beautiful gowns of silk and satin and had worn a new one to every party.

“Well, this is my life, now.”

Libby sat at the table. Her impulsive rush for independence had come at a cost. Perhaps her parents would send clothes to her. She groaned. Even if they did, where would she wear them? Or put them?

She hugged her arms to her chest. “But I’ll have Wade.”

Her dreamy thoughts wavered. Wade was going to have to search hard to find them a place to live. Hopefully, he’d find something as nice as the simple cabin she lived in now and not a tent. What would Mother say? Thinking of her, reminded Libby of the sharp sting of her mother’s disapproval.

A stab of fear pierced her. Was she making a mistake? Could she be a rancher’s wife? All she’d ever known was a life of ease. The only thing she could cook was biscuits. Wade might disown her when he found out she was ignorant in the ways of running a household. Would he be disappointed in her, too?

On the verge of tears, she went to her bedroom and fell across the bed. A whisper in her soul urged her to peek out the window. A full moon showered the landscape with soft light.

Trust Me
.

Her breath caught.

She knelt, bowed her head, and prayed, pouring poured out her fears and misgivings. How long she talked with her Lord, she couldn’t tell, but when she did rise and ready herself for bed, her heart beat strong and sure. God would see her through whatever challenges life might throw her way. She trusted in the Lord and her love for Wade. Everything would be fine.

Angry shouts woke her. She stared out the window, but the barn’s shadow kept the men in darkness. She wrapped her robe around her and peeked out the front door. Several men stood outside the barn. Their harsh tones warned her to stay hidden. Chills trickling down her spine forced her to close the door.

Mr. Rowen obviously did not know the caliber of those he employed. She hadn’t met a one yet she considered honorable. She hoped they weren’t stealing from her employer. Even though he was stern, he was such a generous man. No doubt too kind to question another’s character. Come morning, she’d tell him for the children’s sake, he must be careful of the men he hired. Mr. Rowen was probably guilty of giving unfortunates a second chance.

A stampede of hoofbeats passed by her cabin, startling her further. At least they were leaving. Still, she grabbed Flora’s pistol on the way to her bedroom. She shivered as her fingers gripped the cold metal. As a rancher’s wife, she’d need to be able to use a weapon. She must ask Wade to show her how to shoot. She peered at the cylinder satisfied there were bullets in the chambers.

She might have been born a southern belle, but she was a woman of the West now. Independent and on her own. At least until Saturday. Summoning the Longstreet courage her father always spoke about, she placed the gun under her pillow. If those ornery men tried to come inside her cabin, she’d show them she had the makings of a rancher’s wife.

In what felt like only minutes, dawn’s light slipped through the window and woke her. With the night’s events and the excitement of Wade’s proposal, she’d not slept well. After a long yawn, she arose and readied herself for the day. She downed a cup of coffee then attacked the kitchen and made herself biscuits and eggs.
Success.
At least she could make Wade breakfast.

A groan erupted as she looked at the mess. Libby squared her shoulders and breathed in a lungful of the fresh cool air. Well, at least Mr. and Mrs. Wade Calder would have a life of love and adventure.

A loud crack shattered the early morning stillness.

Dreamy thoughts scattering, she jumped out of her chair. Another blast sent her running into her bedroom.
Shots?
She threw off the pillow and clutched Flora’s pistol. Holding the weapon away from her as if it were a snake, she eased to the door.

The gunfire sounded like it had come from the big house.
The children?
Mr.Rowen?

Putting aside thoughts for her safety, she ran toward the mansion. A half-buried sack caught her attention. She looked around, stooped, and pulled a worn canvas bag from the dirt. The faded letters,
U. S.,
stretched across the top. The rest of the writing faded into a blur.

She needed to show Mr. Rowen. She figured the ruffians from the night before must have dropped the bag in their hurry to leave. Keeping watch for whoever fired the shots, she eased inside the door to the kitchen. Cookie was nowhere in sight.

She tiptoed along the hall, listening for her employer but all she heard was the loud thumping of her own heart. Should she call out?

Wade would have known what to do. How she wished he were here.

After a few more deep breaths, she took another step and peeked around the corner. The door to Mr. Rowen’s office was open. Steeling her nerve, she cocked her gun and eased around the corner and tiptoed toward his office.

A few feet away, she stopped. “Mr. Rowen? Are you all right?”

A drawer slammed followed by footsteps.

She gripped the pistol tighter.

Her employer strode into the corridor and frowned. “Miss Libby. What are you doing with a gun?”

Relief settled through her that he seemed unharmed. She lowered the weapon. “I, uh, well I heard gunshots and was concerned. Are the children safe?”

“Of course. I sent them to they’re aunt’s.” He did little to hide the anger in his voice.

Taken aback, she opened her mouth to respond, but instead closed it. She had no words. She’d never heard they had an aunt, and he’d not told her the children were leaving.

He gestured for her to follow and stomped to his office.

Recovering her composure, she entered his realm. Before he could berate her, she held up the canvas bag. “Mr. Rowen, I thought you should know some very rowdy men met at your barn. This morning, I found this bag.

Also, I must say that Robert and Jane may suffer from the rough character of those you hire.” Proud that she’d had her say, she set the bag on his desk. And gasped.

A similar bag sat on the floor by the wall. Her gaze tripped to his.

He slammed his fist onto the desk. “Why did you have to interfere?”

She’d never seen him so angry. Perhaps when he’d fired Andrew. She didn’t like the way he stared at her. She backed a step toward the door. “I, I didn’t mean to interfere.”

He scowled.

“The children, I didn’t know they had an aunt close by. You didn’t say anything about—”

“I don’t suppose you can keep quiet, can you?” He picked up the knife-like letter opener and repeatedly slapped it against his hand. “I am afraid my, uh, business dealings have come under some unfortunate scrutiny.”

Libby’s blood turned icy.

He gave her a sickly smile. “The children are on their way to Georgia. My time here in Denver has come to an end.”

She edged away.

He advanced toward her. “I’m sorry you found that bag. Sorry you didn’t sleep later this morning. I am sorry.”

Her jaw dropped.

Like a striking rattler, he lunged and grabbed her arm.

Libby twisted from his grasp, but in so doing missed the doorway and jammed her back against the wall.

Rowen raised his hand. The letter opener poised to strike her.

Fear held her feet to the floor. “No!”

Rage darkened his face, and he grasped her blouse.

Almost as if acting on its own, she raised the heavy gun. He pressed against her and the pistol roared.

His eyes widened. He stumbled backward. Blood dripped from his head, and he fell across the desk.

Libby threw the weapon. Fearing he’d recover and attack, she stumbled into the hall and ran for the kitchen door. She’d shot a man. Maybe killed him. She considered returning to help, but the evil she’d seen in his eyes sent a fresh wave of terror over her.

Outside, she saw no one. The early morning sun greeted her, smiling warmth as if nothing had happened.

Panic sped her on.

Dashing to the barn, she prayed no one was there. She recognized the buggy horses in the meadow. Hoping one remained in the barn, she rushed along the row of stalls. A nicker echoed from the farthest end. In the last stall, a black horse bobbed its head in greeting.

Libby snatched a lead rope and secured the mare. Mercifully, the animal was well-mannered and allowed the saddle and bridle to go on without a fight. She grasped the reins, mounted, and dug her heels into the mare’s sides.

Fighting tears, she galloped toward town.