Maureen McKade (23 page)

Kit squeezed the woman’s work-roughened hand. “Did you still love him after he started drinking?”

“Yes, even though I hated what he became,” Freda admitted. She leaned forward, capturing Kit with the intensity of her hazel eyes. “But Jake, I think he is different. A good father he will be, and a good husband.”

Hope flickered in Kit’s breast. Could she make the marriage work? Determination kindled within her. There really was no choice. She loved him, and she’d have the rest of her life to make him love her. “I pray you’re right, Freda, or this may be the biggest mistake I ever made.”

“Or the best decision,” Freda said softly.

The door swung open and Jake halted inside the kitchen. “Am I interrupting anything?”

Kit glanced up, startled by his appearance, and even more surprised by his businesslike attire. A dark broadcloth suit hugged his broad shoulders, and a dazzling white shirt made his complexion appear darker. Black trousers fit his muscled legs like a second skin, and shiny boots molded his calves. He appeared rakishly handsome, and Kit’s desire flared. She forced herself to look away from the tempting picture.

“Visiting we were,” Freda replied. She stood and resumed kneading the bread dough on the counter. “Congratulations.”

“Kit must’ve told you the news,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

He took Freda’s vacated place at the table across from
Kit, and the unsettling scent of bay rum cut through the pleasant smell of baking bread and pies.

“Who’s watching Johnny?” Jake asked, concern written in his features.

“Pete took him fishing again,” Kit replied.

Jake nodded in satisfaction. “Did she tell you about Johnny, Freda?”

The older woman’s eyes twinkled. “I already knew.”

Jake groaned. “Why didn’t anybody bother to tell me?”

Kit noticed the bandage was gone from his forehead, although the wound was surrounded by a fading yellowish bruise. Her irritation cooled, replaced by a muscle-tightening dread that the bullet could’ve killed him instead of only wounding him.

“Did she tell you when?” he asked.

Freda shook her head.

“Sunday.”

The woman’s accusing glance scolded Kit. “So soon? A dress you must have, and food, and music, and a dance.”

“No,” Kit said firmly. “I’ll wear one of my old dresses and it’ll just be Jake and me and Johnny. And you and Patrick can be the witnesses.”

Jake studied her, his expression unreadable. “I thought this was my wedding, too.”

Kit’s agitation increased. She wanted to shield Jake from the sharp-edged tongues of those who would wonder why he married Chaney’s shunned spinster. And her pride didn’t want those same people to witness his hollow vows. “Don’t make this any more of a mockery than it already is.”

“It’s you who’s not taking it seriously,” Jake said in a dangerously calm voice. He glanced at Freda, then leaned close to Kit and lowered his voice. “I plan on keeping my wedding vows.”

Kit stared at him, trying to read the meaning behind his intense words. Which vows was he referring to? If he didn’t love her, how did he expect to keep his vows?

Did he plan on exercising his husbandly rights? Her pulse quickened at the thought, and she admonished herself for her weakness. He couldn’t possibly plan on sleeping with her.

He continued to stare at her, and Kit searched for a response to his veiled challenge. “And you think I won’t keep my part of the bargain?”

His gaze slid down her face to her chest and back to her eyes. “You will.”

Heat flooded Kit’s cheeks. What little she knew about men she’d only recently learned, but she recognized the arrogant hunger in his deliberate scrutiny. If he demanded she come to his bed, would she be able to deny him? She shoved the question from her mind, unwilling to examine the answer too closely.

“You look like you’re going to a funeral,” she stated dryly, anxious to change the subject.

He chuckled, a full, masculine sound that sent sensual awareness skittering through her. “Reverend Wellensiek is expecting us this morning.”

Freda remained silent, but Kit knew she’d heard most of their conversation.

He stood. “Are you ready?”

Kit swallowed her reservations and nodded. “Thanks for the coffee and the advice, Freda.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied. Stepping over to Kit, she embraced her and whispered, “All will work out, you will see.”

Kit closed her eyes prayerfully. “I hope so, Freda, I truly hope so.”

As they walked outside, Jake asked, “What’s this advice she gave you?”

Kit shrugged. “Nothing you’d be interested in.”

Jake glowered in irritation, and Kit hurried ahead of him, repressing a childish urge to stick her tongue out at him. He might soon as be her husband, but she wasn’t about to lose all of her hard-won independence. With his long-legged stride, he caught up to her by Freda’s whitewashed fence. He blocked the gate and crossed his arms.

“Is that any way for a fiancée to act?” he asked in a deceptively soft voice.

Kit glared at him, wondering what game he was playing now. “How should I act?”

He reached for her hand and guided it through the crook of his arm. “Like we can’t stand to be apart.”

She attempted to pull away from him, but he held tight. “Why do you care? You’re only marrying me so Johnny will have a mother.”

He glanced over her shoulder, then returned his shuttered gaze to her. “After my mother left, I got sick and tired of everybody’s pity. I don’t want folks treating Johnny like they treated me. As far as everyone is concerned, it was love at first sight between us.”

Kit tried to think, to ignore the warmth of his body through the layers of clothing. Didn’t she worry about the same thing? And besides, for her, love at first sight wasn’t far from the truth. “All right.”

Jake nodded, his taut expression easing. “Good. Now let’s stroll over to the reverend’s house like a happily engaged couple.”

She allowed him to lead her down the boardwalk. He matched his pace to hers and greeted each person they met. Kit managed to paste a pleasant smile on her face even as she fought to ignore the allure of Jake’s hard muscles beneath the civilized veneer.

“Top o’ the mornin’,” Patrick greeted them.

“Morning, Patrick,” Jake replied with a wide grin.

“Hello,” Kit said, genuine warmth in her welcome.

The burly Irishman pressed his hat off his forehead with his thumb. “What’re you two doin’ up and about this beautiful mornin’?”

“We’re on our way to see the minister,” Kit replied.

Patrick’s eyes rounded. “Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ hitched!”

Jake patted the back of her hand as though she were an obedient little girl, and Kit resisted the urge to kick his shins. “That’s right. Kit’s agreed to become my wife.”

Patrick’s smile almost split his broad face. “That’s fine news to be hearin’.” He shook Jake’s hand and dropped a light kiss on Kit’s cheek. “Congratulations to both of you. I’m thinkin’ you two’ll be a grand couple.”

“Just grand,” Kit repeated, and sent Jake a syrupy smile.

Jake telegraphed a warning with a narrowed gaze, then spoke to Patrick. “The wedding is Sunday, and you and Freda are invited to be our witnesses.”

“I’d be honored,” Patrick said. “You be lettin’ me know the time and I’ll be there.”

“We will,” Jake assured him, then lowered his voice. “Did you find anything?”

Patrick’s expression sobered as he shook his head. “Nothin’, except a few .32-30 cartridges.”

Jake rubbed his fresh-shaven jaw. “Doesn’t prove a thing. Every man jack and his brother owns one.”

Kit frowned. “Prove what? What’re you talking about?”

Patrick suddenly found something interesting to study on his boot toe, and Jake sighed. “I told Patrick where I’d been ambushed and he went to have a look around. We figure it was someone trying to make a name for himself.”

Kit’s throat ached with dismay.

“I’ll be lettin’ you know if I find anything,” Patrick said.

“Appreciate it.”

Patrick’s footsteps faded away.

“Come on, Kit, we have an appointment to keep,” Jake said.

Her mind numb, Kit allowed him to escort her to the parsonage. He knocked on the solid oak door, and Bertie Wellensiek answered the summons a moment later.

“Good morning, Mr. Cordell,” the rotund woman greeted, not acknowledging Kit’s presence.

“Hello, Mrs. Wellensiek. We have an appointment with your husband,” he said, a brittle edge to his polite words.

“Oh?” Her voice vibrated with perverse curiosity.

Calm down, Bertie, or your stays will come undone
, Kit thought peevishly.

“Could you let him know we’re here?” Jake asked, keeping his voice courteous but cool.

After a moment, Bertie nodded and motioned them inside. Kit and Jake waited in the drab foyer as Bertie scuttled down the hall. Unease settled in Kit, and she forced herself not to fidget.

“You can go in,” Bertie announced stiffly a few moments later.

“Thank you,” Jake said.

The Reverend Wellensiek rose from his chair behind the scratched desk and leaned over to grasp Jake’s hand. “Hello, Mr. Cordell.” He turned to Kit. “Miss Thornton, nice to see you.”

His friendly greeting eased Kit’s misgivings slightly, and she lowered herself into the offered chair. Once everyone was seated, the Reverend Wellensiek clasped his hands and rested them on the cluttered desktop. “What is it you wished to talk to me about?”

“Kit and I want to get married Sunday,” Jake stated without preamble.

Kit remained silent, listening to the two men work out the details of her wedding. Jake sounded convincing and held her hand, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. She tried to concentrate on the plans, but Jake’s absent caresses inflamed her senses, reminding her of their one night of passion. Her body grew languid, her mind conjuring visions of Jake in the moonlight and how beautiful he’d appeared.

“Is that all right with you?” Jake asked.

Kit blinked aside the sensual images, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. What in the world was she doing thinking about such things in the minister’s house?

“Whatever you say, Jake,” Kit stammered.

He glanced at her like she’d lost what few wits she’d possessed. With what she hoped was an angelic smile, Kit turned to the Reverend Wellensiek. “Is there anything else we need to do?”

He shook his head. “I believe everything has been taken care of.”

Kit rose, eager to escape. “Then Jake and I won’t take any more of your time.”

After a round of farewells, Jake escorted Kit out to the bustling street. He leaned close to her. “What were you thinking about in there?”

Kit recalled his tantalizing touch and her unbidden reaction to it. “I’m sure you and the Reverend Wellensiek have everything worked out.”

He studied her a moment longer, and a knowing grin captured his lips, bringing a new wave of embarrassment to Kit. Had her thoughts been that evident? He brought his mouth close to her ear. “Be patient, Kit. Just a few more days.”

Startled, she glanced at him.

His suggestive wink answered her earlier question. After they were married, he expected her to occupy his bed.

Chapter 16

T
oday was Kit’s wedding day, and a bittersweet ache panged beneath her calm facade. She had made her choice to marry Jake and to work to make the marriage a real one. However, her earlier optimism had faded in the reality of the wedding preparations. Jake had been polite but distant, and the friendship that had blossomed between them had seemed to wither.

Kit stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had chosen to wear her cream-colored dress with tiny bluebells scattered across the material, and a garland woven from early spring flowers encircled her crown of ringlets. Dark smudges lay beneath her eyes, partially hidden by her wire spectacles.

Was she naive to think she could bring love into a marriage that had been born of distrust?

A light knock sounded.

She took a deep breath and pinched some color into her pale cheeks. “Come in.”

Freda slipped inside. “It is time.”

Kit studied the woman who was as close to a mother as she’d ever had. “Am I doing the right thing?”

Freda raised herself on her tiptoes and hugged Kit. “Be patient. He will love you in time.”

Closing her eyes, Kit breathed a prayerful “I hope you’re right.”

The off-key organ notes announced the start of her wedding.

Freda released her and stepped back. Laying a palm against Kit’s cheek, she said softly, “You deserve this happiness. It will work out. You will see.”

Kit nodded, swallowing her fears. Taking a deep breath, she followed Freda out of the back room of the church. Wearing a formal black broadcloth suit, Patrick met her at the entrance.

She placed her trembling hand through the crook of his arm, patted her hair into place one last time, and wrapped her fingers around the small bouquet of bluebells.

Patrick laid his palm over her white knuckles. “Relax, lass. ’Tis your wedding, not your funeral.”

A nervous laugh escaped her lips. She gazed up at his familiar florid features and slicked back auburn hair. “You’re a good friend, Patrick.”

The Irishman’s face flushed. “Just as you are, Kit. ’Tis time to meet your intended.”

Much to Kit’s chagrin, the small church overflowed with people. It seemed everyone in Chaney had shown up to see if the great Jake Cordell would actually marry the town’s social outcast. Even the mayor and his wife, Fanny, had turned out for the occasion.

As Kit walked down the aisle gripping Patrick’s comforting arm, the hair at the back of her neck prickled. Through lowered lashes she sought the source of her disquiet. She spotted him a few moments later. Halfway down at the end of a pew sat David Preston, a glower marring his classic handsomeness. She pressed closer to Patrick’s solid side and slid her gaze away from David’s disturbing stare. Spotting Charlie and Ethan, Kit felt her apprehension ease, and she smiled at her two friends.
She knew what courage it took for them to come to Chaney and face the silent and not-so-silent snubs … especially Ethan, who still bore fading marks from his last visit to town. Charlie stood proudly and winked at her. Her heart lifted and she squared her shoulders.

As she glided to the front beside Patrick, Kit spotted Jake, and her breath caught in her throat. He looked more handsome than her imagination could ever conjure. Resplendent in a worsted gray suit with a red vest, he appeared every inch the hero of her dime novels. Standing by his side, Johnny looked like a miniature of Jake, his clothing matching his father’s down to the black tie and shiny shoes. If there’d been any doubt that Johnny was Jake’s son, it was dispelled by the similarities made more obvious by their attire.

Patrick stopped, and she took Jake’s offered arm with more than a little trepidation.

Kit tried to imagine the hero Jake Cordell and his bride at the altar, preparing to pledge the rest of their lives to one another. She tried to imagine a scene full of love and happiness. She tried to imagine touching dialogue and an exchange of yearning gazes.

However, the words refused to be written in her imagination. The truth was too painful, too far removed from the fanciful tales she’d woven into dime novels.

Afraid Jake would see the tears brimming in her eyes, she focused on the reverend as he began the ceremony.

An hour later, Kit stood beside her husband and accepted good wishes from the same people who’d shunned her a week earlier. As she kept a frozen smile in place, she tried to remember the ceremony, but all she could recall was the kiss Jake had given her to seal their vows. Her knees still trembled in the aftermath of the soul-stealing caress, and she dared not look at Jake lest he see the undisguised love in her eyes.

Jake was her husband in name only now, but she
had
to believe someday he would be her true husband.

If she didn’t have that hope, she had nothing.

The wedding and celebrating were finally over.

Jake heaved a weary sigh as he guided the wagon’s team down the bumpy road toward home.
Home
. It had been a long time since he’d thought of anyplace as home. The word conjured up visions of Jake teaching Johnny how to work with the horses, and reading a story to his son after he’d tucked him into bed.

He cast a sidelong glance at Kit’s stiff expression, the pallor so unlike her usual glow. Images of her sharing his bed brought a tightness to his groin. One night with her had only whetted his appetite for more. Knowing the passionate fire that blazed beneath her placid warmth, Jake wanted her even more than he had the first time.

Since he’d blackmailed her into marrying him, he wondered if she’d allow him in their room. If she refused, he had every right to force her into his bed, but Jake had never forced himself upon a woman, and he wasn’t about to start with his own wife. Despite her deception, he cared for her as much as he could care for any woman. Maybe someday he’d even forgive her deceit.

He steered the horses into the ranch yard and halted them in front of the barn. Hopping down from the wagon, he reached for Kit’s hand to help her to the ground.

As soon as she stood on the hard-packed earth, she pulled out of Jake’s grasp. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

His conscience tugged at him, but Jake ignored it. The fact that she appeared miserable on her own wedding day bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Johnny climbed down by himself and leaned over to give Toby a quick hug. The dog wagged its tail gratefully,
then nudged Jake’s hand with its damp nose. Jake scratched behind the animal’s drooping ear and was rewarded with a moist tongue.

Johnny laid his palm on his pet’s back. “This is my pa, Toby.” The boy gazed up at Jake with adoration brimming his eyes.

Paternal pride swept through Jake, stunning him with its force.

Kit coughed, drawing his attention. He studied her for a moment, noting her pale face. The dark circles beneath her eyes attested to a lack of sleep. Knowing he was the cause, Jake took hold of her arm gently. “Why don’t you go on into the house and lie down for a little while? It’s been a busy day.”

She lifted her chin in a familiar defiant gesture. “I’ll go put supper on. Johnny can help you put up the horses.”

Kit spun around and flounced toward the house, her cream-colored dress dancing around her long legs.

Johnny frowned. “Ma seems mad.”

Jake stared after Kit a moment, then tousled the boy’s thick hair. “She’s just tired. Let’s put the horses in the barn.”

They removed their jackets and set to work. Jake unhitched the traces from the horses and had Johnny lead them into the barn. After hanging up the gear in the tack room, Jake joined his son in giving the animals a quick rubdown.

Watching Johnny’s intent expression as he worked, Jake could tell the boy was eager to please him—yet he supposed it was he who should be seeking approval. The loose-moraled life he’d led the past few years wouldn’t have been conducive to raising an impressionable boy. Kit had done an admirable job raising his son, and much as he hated to admit it, he was indebted to her.

Jake tossed the damp saddle blanket he’d used over
the fence slat and stepped out of the stall, closing the gate behind him. He leaned against the upper rail to observe Johnny. His son. The child Kit had raised without asking for anything in return.

Startled by his thoughts, Jake straightened. Kit
hadn’t
demanded any recompense for giving five years of her life to rear a boy who wasn’t even kin to her. And she had taken Maggie in to stay with her until Maggie had given birth, just as she’d given Charlie and Ethan jobs when nobody else would.

The truth glared at him, proclaiming
him
the villain, not her. Jake shifted uncomfortably. He’d run away and left Maggie and his son alone. He’d blackmailed Kit into marrying him. He’d bought the note to the ranch behind Kit’s back.

He scrubbed his whiskers with his palms. Maybe
he
was the one who needed forgiveness.

“I’m done,” Johnny announced.

Startled out of his somber reverie, Jake smiled at the boy. “You did a fine job. Let’s go see your ma.”

Jake held out his hand, and Johnny wrapped his small fingers around it. Leaving the barn, Jake pushed the bar into place across the door, and they crossed the dusky yard to the house.

“I hope Ma’s got supper ready,” Johnny said.

Jake sent his son an expression of mock incredulous-ness. “After all that food you ate this afternoon, you’re hungry again?”

Johnny shrugged. “Ma says I’m a bottomless pit.” He gazed up at Jake with inquisitive eyes. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re a growing boy, and growing boys never run out of room in their bellies.”

“Did your ma call you a bottomless pit, too?”

Anguished pain shafted Jake’s chest. “My ma left me when I was about your age.”

“Were you bad?”

Jake paused and glanced down at Johnny. “Why do you say that?”

He shrugged his thin shoulders. “Sometimes I’m scared Ma might leave me if I’m bad.”

“Has she ever said that?”

Johnny shook his head. “No, but Ethan’s ma done that to him.”

Jake hunkered down in front of his son, placing him at eye level with the boy. “You listen to me, Johnny. Your ma loves you, and she’d never leave you, no matter what you did.”

The boy studied Jake for a long moment, his dark eyes nearly swallowed up by the black pupils. “Would you leave me if I was bad, Pa?”

Jake’s throat clogged with an emotion so powerful that for a moment he couldn’t speak past the lump. Instead, he gathered Johnny in his arms and pulled him close. “I promise I’ll never leave you, Johnny. No matter what,” he whispered in his ear.

Johnny wrapped his short arms around Jake’s neck.

After a few moments, Jake released his son and drew an arm across his eyes, glad for the darkness that hid his features. Yellow light spilled out of the windows, beckoning Jake, and he and Johnny hurried to the house.

The smells of fresh coffee and frying meat brought a smile to Jake’s lips. Many nights as he’d lain under the stars, he’d imagined coming home to this ranch and stepping inside to be welcomed by a family and mouthwatering scents of supper. He glanced down at Johnny, his chest tightening at the sight of his son.

Kit entered the hall and he noticed she still wore her wedding dress, although she’d donned an apron which accentuated her enticing curves. The flower garland on her crown had disappeared and her hair danced about her shoulders. She glanced at him, her expression cool,
and disappointment fell across Jake like a condemning shadow. He couldn’t blame her for being so distant.

Her gaze shifted to Johnny, and her expression eased into a smile. “Why don’t you go upstairs and change your clothes, Johnny? When you come down, you can have something to eat.”

“Doesn’t Pa have to change, too?” he asked.

Kit pressed her spectacles up on her nose, a gesture Jake had come to recognize as a sign of nervousness. She glanced at him, her smile vanishing. “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.”

Johnny scowled. “Then
I
don’t have to if I don’t want to.”

Kit opened her mouth, but Jake held up his hand to stave off her reprimand. He hardened his features, hoping he looked stern. “You heard your ma. Go and change, or you won’t get any supper.”

Johnny stared at Jake in surprise, then with only a slight grumble, stomped upstairs. Once the boy was out of earshot, Jake turned to Kit. “Did I do all right?”

The corners of Kit’s bow-shaped lips tilted upward. “You did fine. When he gets tired, he gets crabby.”

“It’ll be an early night for all of us,” Jake commented.

Kit’s cheeks reddened, and her gaze stumbled around the foyer. “I’d best go finish getting supper on.”

She hurried away, leaving Jake alone. He debated whether to follow her or not. What would he tell her—that there’d been no hidden meaning to his words? He’d be lying. He wanted her with an intensity that almost frightened him.

Suddenly restless, he roamed into the front room and stood in the center. Turning slowly, he tried to picture the room as it had been when he was a child. Stark and cold. He shuddered with the bleak memory. His father had removed every visible reminder of his wife after
she’d abandoned them. Kit, however, had transformed four barren walls into a place filled with warmth and life.

He sank into a wingback chair and rubbed his brow. He had his rightful home and an heir to pass on the Cordell legacy. He should’ve been content.

A few minutes later, Kit called them to supper, and although Jake wasn’t hungry, he joined his new family in the dining room. Her usual place, at the head of the table, lay vacant. Kit had seated herself across from Johnny, and Jake stared at the new arrangement. He glanced at Kit, who regarded him with an expectant tilt of her head. Behind her lenses, her eyes appeared as bright as a summer sky, and equally as alluring.

Feeling like an impostor, Jake took his place. He frowned. “Where are Charlie and Ethan?”

Keeping her gaze averted from Jake, Kit adjusted the napkin in her lap. “They usually eat in the bunkhouse.”

“I guess I’ll talk to them tomorrow.”