The Shepherd's Voice (17 page)

Gabe stood near the wagon, the new beige-colored trilby in his hand. He ran his index finger and thumb along the deep crease in the hat’s crown, enjoying the feel of the soft felt. He supposed he shouldn’t have bought it. He could’ve made do with the one he had. Then again, he was glad he’d bought it. Made him feel good. A man ought to have something of his own that made him feel good.

Looking up, he saw Pauline strolling along the sidewalk, looking at the window displays, a parasol shading her from the harsh August sun. He didn’t want to talk to her, but if he didn’t move quickly, she would see him. Then he wouldn’t have any choice.

He ducked into the nearest building, which turned out to be the Ransom River Bar. The dimly lit room was empty of customers.

“What kin I git fer ya?” the bartender asked.

Gabe had heard enough preachers railing against the evils of drink to figure he shouldn’t order anything, but through the small window in the door, he could see Pauline had stopped to visit with another woman on the sidewalk.

“I’ll have a root beer.”

“Root beer.” The bartender nearly snorted over the words. “This ain’t no drugstore lunch counter, mister. They done lifted Prohibition. You want a drink or not? If not, you kin git on out of here.”

He looked out the window again. Pauline was still there.

“All right.” He tossed a coin on the counter, hoping it was enough. “I’ll have a beer.”

A few moments later, glass in hand, Gabe slid into a booth in the corner, wondering how long he would have to sit there. If he got up to check the window, it would be obvious what he was doing, and for some reason, he didn’t want the bartender to know. Pride, he supposed. A grown man shouldn’t be hiding from a woman.

The door opened and two-men entered the bar. They ordered a couple of drinks, then ambled to the booth next to where Gabe was seated. Their voices carried over the divider, but Gabe was too lost in his own thoughts to pay attention to their conversation.

Until he heard a familiar name.

“You’re right about Akira. Folks think she’s sweet enough sugar won’t melt in her mouth, but it’s an act. I would’ve warmed her bed myself instead of her lettin’ the jailbird do it. All she had to do was ask.”

A low chuckle. “As if she’d give you a second look. She already turned you away twice.”

“She’ll be fair game after his old man runs him outta town. No decent folks are gonna have anything to do with her after that.”

“Maybe you’re wrong about her, Danny. Him, too. I heard he got religion.”

“Not a chance.”

“I swear that’s what I heard. Gabe Talmadge was at the Methodist church last Sunday.”

“Well if’n he was, I’m tellin’ you it’s all part of an act to keep the sheriff from givin’ him grief. The time’ll come he’ll have to move on. He sure ain’t never gonna get nothin from that old man of his if’n he stays. And when he moves on, I’m gonna pay Akira a personal visit.” More suggestive laughter, low and guttural. “A
very
personal visit.”

The other man laughed too.

Murder flared to life in Gabe’s heart. He wanted to snuff out the laughter, to silence it for good. If he stood up, if he grabbed that Danny whatever-his-name-was by the shirt collar and punched him in the face, shoving those ugly words down his throat, helped him choke on them —

His hands closed around the beer glass, as if holding on to it would keep him from doing something stupid. And it would be stupid to get into a bar fight. Even in his rage he knew that. It would prove he was exactly what they said he was. It would send him back to jail, and it would leave Akira unprotected, a victim of their filthy minds.

Above everything else, he had to protect Akira.

But how do I protect her?
Gabe wondered as he drove the wagon toward Dundreggan. It wasn’t easy to stop folks from talking. It wasn’t easy to keep men like those two in the bar from thinking the worst and then acting on it.

Short of the two of us getting married.

Those had been Akira’s own words. But she hadn’t meant them, had she?

No. And even if she had, he wouldn’t be willing. Would he?

If it would keep her safe, maybe I would.

Gabe owed Akira Macauley a great deal. She’d taken him in, given him food and work, treated him with respect. That was more than anybody else had done for him. He wouldn’t be much of a man if he didn’t repay her in some way. If his presence on the ranch brought scorn upon her or danger to her doorstep, then he owed her more than his appreciation.

It might not be so bad to be married.
If they did marry, theirs wouldn’t be the first union formed without love at its roots. There were lots of reasons for two people to wed. Lots of good, respectable reasons.

He looked heavenward. “How else do I protect her?”

The only other choice was for him to leave Dundreggan, to leave Ransom and this valley for good. He could warn Brodie before he left, of course. He could make sure the old Scotsman kept an eye on Akira.

But would that be good enough? Not if Brodie was out with his sheep.

No, Gabe couldn’t leave Akira’s safety to anyone else. Besides, it was his fault that folks were gossiping about her, right?

So he was back where he started. There was no other answer. He would have to marry her. It was the only way.

The tiny thrill in her heart when she saw Gabe was familiar to Akira by this time. She felt it whenever he’d been away for a few hours and then returned.

Drying her hands on a small towel, she composed herself before
stepping out of the kitchen into the shade of the porch awning. The sun was already low in the western sky, and she had to squint against its glare as she watched Gabe drive the team up to the barn.

Thanks, Lord, for bringing him back safely.

She dropped the towel onto the nearby chair, then went down the porch steps and walked across the barnyard toward the wagon. Gabe was already unhitching the team.

“You must be hungry,” she said when he looked up and saw her.

“Plenty hungry.” He returned his attention to the rigging.

She laid a hand on the broad back of one of the horses. “I didn’t think you’d be this late.”

“Neither did I.”

He seemed agitated. She wondered what had gone wrong in town.

As if hearing her thoughts, he straightened and met her gaze a second time. His expression was grim, his eyes clouded. “You were right. There’s only one way to stop the gossip. I want you to marry me, Akira.”

“Marry you?” she whispered, disbelieving her ears.

“Yes.” He took a step toward her. “I thought maybe my going away would make things okay, but it won’t. You wouldn’t be safe.”

“Safe?” She didn’t know if she spoke the word or only thought it.

“I don’t know what sort of husband I’d be, but I’d do my level best. I’d treat you kind, and I’d go on working hard around the place.” The words rushed out of him, as if he’d been practicing them for hours and needed to get them said as fast as he could. “I know there’s no love between us. Leastwise not the romantic kind. But I think we like each other well enough, and maybe one day it could grow to be more. You wouldn’t have to let me move into the main house if you didn’t feel comfortable having me there. I’d understand.”

Unlike most other young women, Akira hadn’t dreamed of her future husband or planned for her wedding day from the time she was a little girl. Instead, she’d dreamed of returning to this ranch, of living out her days here, working the land, raising sheep and keeping livestock. She’d enjoyed her independence, the freedom to make her own choices, and had never felt she was missing out by not having a husband or a family.

But something had changed within her when she fell in love with Gabe—she wanted more. In those secret moments when she’d allowed herself to imagine a proposal of marriage from him, this hadn’t been it. She would have liked a declaration of his undying love. She would have liked to declare the love she felt for him too. But here he stood, telling her he wanted to marry her to keep her
safe.

“I think we ought to do it, Akira. But if you think I’m wrong, if you’d just as soon not be married to me, then I’d best leave Dundreggan. Staying will only make things worse.”

She tried to hide the panic those words caused in her heart, words that made her decision for her. She couldn’t bear it if he went away. Selfish or not, crazy or not, she wanted to keep him with her.

“All right, Gabe. I’ll marry you.”

TWELVE

“Excuse me, sir,” Rupert said as he stepped into Hudson’s office early on Wednesday morning. “I’m sorry to trouble you, but I’ve learned something I believe you should know.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about your son, sir.”

Hudson glowered at his secretary. Ten days since Gabe’s visit and he felt the same anger as he had the moment Gabe refused to help him. It galled, the way the boy had walked out on him. There weren’t many men who were either that stupid or that courageous—Hudson hadn’t yet decided which of those adjectives described Gabe.

“It’s about him and … and Miss Macauley.” Rupert swallowed nervously.

“What about them?”

“Well …” Rupert’s gaze darted toward the window behind Hudson’s desk. “They’re at the church, sir. They picked up a license yesterday at the county seat, and now they’re getting married.”

Hudson felt something twist in his belly, a sudden apprehension, as if he’d fallen off a cliff and was plummeting into a bottomless pit. But he’d never been a man given to premonitions, nor did he give credence to those who had them.

He swiveled his chair toward the window. “Married,” he repeated thoughtfully.

There was a part of him that resented the notion of Gabe marrying without his permission. Then again, perhaps the marriage would serve Hudson better than any plan he might have concocted. The law wasn’t quite as helpful as in days of old, when a wife’s properties transferred ownership to her husband on their wedding day, but it could be nearly as good.
If
Gabe played his cards right.

“Maybe I underestimated him.”

“Sir?”

Hudson flicked his hand at his secretary, dismissing him. “Nothing, Carruthers. That’ll be all. I’ll let you know when I need you.”

“Yes sir.” Rupert let himself out.

Married. Akira Macauley and Gabe. Hmm.

Gabe knew Hudson wanted that land. It could be he was marrying the fool girl so he could get control of Dundreggan, then sell it to Hudson. It could be he wanted Hudson’s money, but on his own terms.

“Maybe there’s Talmadge blood in him after all.”