Native Wolf (39 page)

In the midst of the chaos of ranch hands calming the horses, workers stomping out sparks, and maids pumping pails of water to dump over the smoking coals, two more riders came galloping up the drive.

Within moments, Parker had spoken to the sheriff, who wasted no time in wresting Frank off the horse and putting him in handcuffs, while someone led the poor old nag to a watering trough.

“Claire,” Chase breathed, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of her hand, “it’s all right now. You’re going to be all right. The doctor is here.” Then he bent closer, adding, “So is Yoema.”

Claire squirmed as Catalina pinned a violet spray of lupins across the top of the long white veil covering her short hair. She hadn’t been fussed over so much since the occasion of her twelfth birthday, when Yoema had spent hours weaving her hair into impossible braids.

“Be still,” Catalina scolded, arranging the sheer folds of the veil so that it draped gracefully down Claire’s back.

If it were up to Claire, of course, she would have simply moved into her new husband’s household without ceremony, as was the tradition of the local natives.

But she was already bucking convention by marrying a half-breed. She figured the least she could do was to have a decent traditional wedding, the kind that would allow her father to maintain his respectability in town.

Of course, there were some town folk who refused to come to the ceremony, claiming it was a disgrace to marry a savage and a travesty to be wed in a barn. But it was her father who finally admitted that it was a fool who would try to please everyone. Besides, he said he could think of no better way to christen the pristine new barn his neighbors had helped him build than to have a wedding in it.

“Ah, better.” Catalina cocked her head, examining her handiwork, looking stunning in her own pale peach gown with ivory trim. “The pins, they are not biting you?”

Claire smiled. Catalina’s English was improving, but it wasn’t perfect. “No, they’re not biting me.”

Over the last several weeks, Claire had grown quite close to Catalina, who had insisted they have a double wedding. Catalina claimed it was because she wanted a public occasion to prove her skills as a dressmaker. Consequently, she had designed and sewn lavish gowns for Claire, herself, and a half dozen of the most fashionable ladies in Paradise. But Claire suspected her insistence on the double wedding had more to do with sewing up her relationship with Drew before he had a chance to change his mind.

“So. Do you like?” Catalina asked, turning her around to face the beveled mirror.

Claire was pleasantly surprised by her appearance. Claire was accustomed to wearing drab, conservative hues—black, brown, blue. Catalina had originally wanted to make the gowns in the white that Queen Victoria had made popular, but Claire had argued that white was highly impractical in a town full of red dirt. So they had settled on pastels. The pale lavender of Claire’s gown brought out the light in her eyes. A narrow, cream-colored ruffle trimmed the edges of the flounces, the bottoms of the sleeves, and the high-buttoned neckline.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed.

Catalina grinned and touched up the crown of bright orange poppies that anchored the veil covering her own thick, dark hair. “I think we will be beautiful flowers today.”

Claire agreed, thinking it was clever how Catalina had chosen fabric that matched the color of the local wildflowers.

Then she turned sideways in the mirror and couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you
sure
this looks right?”

“Oh,
si, si.
It is the latest fashion.”

Claire had seen bustles before, but this one seemed enormous, with yards of draped fabric that made her backside feel like a big waterfall.

While she was wondering how Chase would find his way under all the petticoats and ruffles, Catalina went to the window.

“Come, come, quickly.” She beckoned Claire with a wave. “Come see our beautiful men.”

Claire didn’t need to be asked twice. She joined Catalina and peered down at the drive, where guests were already arriving. Chase and Drew were walking together, and Claire had never seen a more handsome pair. Catalina had chosen matching suits for them in two different colors—one the color of the evening sky and one the color of coffee—and their appearance was causing quite a stir among the ladies, who had begun whispering behind their gloves.

Claire couldn’t blame them. One handsome half-breed was enough to take a woman’s breath away. But two…

The twins were devilishly good-looking. But they were so much more than that. They had their grandmother’s strong heart, her good will, her sweet spirit.

Claire’s eyes filled with moisture as she recalled how Chase had risked his life to pull her from the fire. In the days afterward, he’d watched over her while she was recovering. He'd broken the news to her that Frank had been tried fairly and hanged. Then he’d told her that he would never love anyone the way he loved her, and he’d promised to protect her for the rest of her days.

Chase Wolf, she decided, was a better hero than Buckskin Bill, Dashing Dick, and Kit Carson combined.

She dabbed at her eyes and sniffed back her silly tears. It was her wedding day, after all. She didn’t want to walk down the aisle with bleary, red eyes.

Catalina leaned close and confided, “I think the ladies cannot decide which man is the most beautiful.”

Claire managed a smile. “Well, we both know it’s…” She looked closer at the brothers, furrowing her brow. “Wait. Didn’t you say Drew was going to wear blue and Chase would be in brown?”

“Yes.” Then Catalina frowned down at them and then began clucking her tongue. “Those tricksters.”

Claire’s eyes widened in amazement. “They did not.”

“They did.”

“And they didn’t think we’d notice?”

They stopped to watch as Claire’s father walked up the drive to meet the brothers and shook their hands.

Claire wondered, “Do you think my father can tell?”

Catalina shook her head.

Claire arched a brow.

Catalina arched a brow.

The Two-Sons were going to be very sorry they’d tried to fool their brides.

The whole switching suits idea had been Drew’s, of course. Chase hadn’t wanted to take the risk that he might somehow accidentally wind up marrying Drew’s bride-to-be. He liked Catalina well enough, now that he knew her better. But Chase adored Claire, and the possibility that Claire might mistake Drew for him gnawed at his insides.

Drew, however, was a gambler by nature. And last night in the saloon, when the jailer they’d fooled with the two-spirit game had insisted their brides couldn’t tell them apart either, Drew had told him to put his money where his mouth was. A wager had been made, and somehow, Drew had charmed Chase into going along with the crazy scheme.

It honestly amazed Chase that the two brothers could fool anyone. To his mind, they were as different as night and day. So when, after they’d switched clothes, Samuel Parker came up and clapped Drew on the back, calling him son, Chase was taken aback and a bit annoyed.

“Before the wedding, I have something I’d like to show you boys,” Parker said.

They followed him behind the ranch house, across a field of grass and wildflowers, and over a small rolling knoll. On the far side was a solitary oak with sprawling branches, and at the base of the tree, a small chunk of irregular granite was sunk into the earth. It bore the inscription:

HERE RESTS BELOVED YOEMA

GRANDMOTHER OF CHASE WOLF AND DREW HAWK

SPIRIT MOTHER OF CLAIRE PARKER

The headstone was perfect. The brothers thanked him and agreed their grandmother would have been pleased.

But for Chase, it meant even more. The circle that had been broken when his people were exiled from this place was now fixed, as if it had been melted down and re-forged into a new, stronger metal. After today, after he and Claire shared the vows of marriage, that bond would become unbreakable. And since he’d made peace with his enemies and repaired the ugly past, now his grandmother would find her way home along the spirit path.

If Claire’s father felt uneasy walking up the aisle beside Catalina, he was polite enough not to let on. Catalina had had no one to give her away, and though Claire knew her father still secretly suspected the Italian lady was a soiled dove, he did the gentlemanly thing and offered to do the honors.

Nonetheless, Claire was glad he didn’t know that several of Catalina’s wedding guests were indeed ladies of the evening, well disguised by the modest and well-tailored gowns Catalina had made for them for this special occasion.

At a nod from her father, the fiddler began playing the wedding march, and the three of them glided arm-in-arm between the makeshift pews full of guests.

The sweet fragrance of fresh-cut lumber from the mill filled the barn. The new design featured six shuttered windows that were currently thrown open, allowing the morning sunshine to light up and warm the interior.

As they proceeded up the aisle, envious sighs and gasps of awe sounded from all around them. Claire knew it was all for Catalina’s lovely dress designs. Catalina smiled and gave Claire a wink, probably imagining the flood of dress orders that would come in over the next few weeks.

At the end of the barn stood the preacher and the two brothers, whose positions were reversed from what they should be. Drew stood waiting for Claire. Chase waited for Catalina. Claire wasn’t sure what game the brothers were playing, but she gave Catalina a smile and a subtle lift of her brow. They’d decided to proceed as if nothing were wrong.

Claire nearly laughed aloud at the disgruntled expressions on the men’s faces as Catalina reached for Chase’s hand and Claire tucked her hand into Drew’s elbow. Of course, the preacher, her father, and none of the guests knew what was going on, so nothing seemed amiss to them.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here…” the preacher began.

Chase cleared his throat.

Claire bit back a smile.

“…in the sight of God…”

Drew coughed.

Catalina slid her sly gaze over to Claire, whose lips were clamped together.

“…and in the face of this congregation…”

Drew started fidgeting.

Chase's smoldering gaze could have burned a hole in the preacher's Bible.

Catalina looked highly amused.

Claire fought back a giggle.

“…to join together this man and this woman…” The preacher paused, unsure of the protocol, and then nodded toward Catalina. “And
this
man and this woman…”

Drew clenched and unclenched his fists.

Chase looked ready to kill something.

Finally, Claire could hold back no more. She burst out laughing, which startled the preacher, as well as the congregation.

“A moment, please,” Catalina said to the preacher.

Then, to the relief of their prospective grooms and the surprise of the congregation, Catalina and Claire traded partners.

The preacher found his place in the matrimonial speech, and the grooms straightened with smug pride. Claire and Catalina exchanged one last wicked conspiratorial grin before they happily took the arms of their intended husbands and spoke the vows that would bind them together as long as they both should live.