Boot Hill Bride (15 page)
"Come on, sweetie, you can tell me," Ma encouraged.
"I can't—" a hiccup interrupted her.
"Can't what?"
She shook her head, tried to come up with something to
say. "We aren't really married."
"Ain't really married?" Ma sounded shocked. "What you
talking about? That was a real preacher Bug hauled in here."
"No, I mean we
are
married. But only because we were
forced to be." She let out a burning sigh, and quivered.
"When my father returns, I'll go back to Topeka with him and
Belinda."
"Over my dead body!" Ma slapped the table.
Randi wiped the moisture from her eyes. Building the
restaurant and hotel had to be so expensive. There was no
way she was going to beg money from him. Not for any
reason.
"Howard has so much on his mind with the restaurant and
all. I completely understand. And I'm very thankful he's let
me stay here this long." A clump of regret the size of a cast
iron kettle settled in her stomach. "I guess I'm just a failure
at everything I try."
"A failure? Poppycock! If that boy of mine—"
Randi laid a hand over Ma's. "Please, Ma, please don't say
or do anything. I don't want him to do something he doesn't
want to just—just for my sake."
Like a fish out of water, Ma opened and closed her mouth
several times. Her cheeks grew bright red before she said,
"I'm going to town."
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"Please, Ma?" Randi begged with her eyes. "Please don't
say or do anything."
A loud huff floated from her lips. "I ain't gonna say or do
anything. I don't know what's goin' on in that pretty head of
yours, but in my mind it's a crock of gobbly-gook." With a
huff she turned about, and arms pumping at her sides, Ma
stormed down the trail to the road. The stiff heels of her
men's work boots stirred up plumes of dust with each step.
Randi bowed her head. There had been plenty of times
when she'd wished there was a way to turn back time. If
there was she'd go back to the farm, where it was just she
and Mama. Or maybe go back farther, and completely erase
her miserable life from existence. That would be the only way
to save Howard, protect the entire Quinter family from her
father.
Howard watched his mother march away from the
campsite. A deep frown tugged on his brows before he turned
to the tents. Randi rose from the table and meandered over
to the fire pit like the weight of the world bore down on her.
His nostrils flared. What had his mother done? He should
have known everything had been too smooth. Ma wasn't
always the most couth person. There were times when he'd
seen her be downright rude to folks. But to be honest, those
folks normally had it coming.
His gaze turned once again and followed Ma's trail. She
seemed to like Randi, fluttered around her like a mother hen,
and he really couldn't remember a time when she'd been
impolite or bad mannered to his sisters-in-law. Then again,
neither Kid nor Skeeter would ever allow someone to mistreat
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Jessie or Lila. Was that it? Had someone been rude to Randi
and he hadn't seen it? Hadn't been there to protect her?
He searched the building site, letting his gaze jump from
man to man. There wasn't one he could think of that had
done or said anything. His roaming eyes moved to the road,
settled on Danny J's. Ire coiled in his guts like a snake.
Opal had left the day of the shooting. Sporting a black eye
and with deep scratches still bleeding. Danny J had ordered
her out of town. The man's silver snuff box had stopped her
bullet from doing any damage. Randi had been down to see
her aunt a couple times, and he, too, had gone to see Danny
J and knew the man was doing fine. His hand went lax, and
the hammer tumbled to the floor.
Danny had told him when he was tired with his new wife to
let him know, had said if he'd seen how beautiful Randi was
before she ran away, he'd have never let her go. Howard had
laughed it off, assured Danny he had no intentions of ever
growing tired of his wife, but had Danny or Corrine asked her
to move back in? Was she considering it?
His hands balled into fists. He squared his shoulders and
ignored the fact his march resembled his mother's as he
stormed across the yard toward the road.
Damn that man!
He'd let the man know just how serious he was when it came
to Randi. No little snuff box would save Danny J this time.
"Howard?" Her soft voice called. The sound made him
cringe slightly, but wasn't enough to make him forgo his
mission.
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Her soft fragrance filled his nose even before she arrived
at his elbow. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" she
said, slightly huffing.
Little more than a slight grunt exited his throat, partially
because her nearness, as usual, made his heart flutter until
he was afraid it would jump right out of his chest. It was as if
a full-blown thunderstorm erupted inside him with all the
snapping and cracking. And, also as usual, his heart found a
way to get itself tangled around his throat. In that instant,
while he was just about being choked to death, he couldn't
quite remember where he'd been going.
Her fingers settled on his arm, the light touch brought his
feet to a halt.
"Where are you going?" she repeated.
"I-uh." His gaze settled on the big house at the end of the
road, and he swallowed, sent his heart back down to his chest
where it burned from the striking lightning bolts.
"I was going to see Danny J."
"What for?"
He folded his arms, blood pounding in his neck. "Has he
asked you anything?"
"Danny J?" she asked, brows furrowed.
"Yes," he said a bit harshly. The toe of one foot tapped the
ground.
Her gaze went to the house. "No, what would Danny J
want to ask me? I've never even spoken to the man."
Foolishness showered him like a spring rain, and his neck
became warm as blood rushed to his face. A response didn't
form in his mind.
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She glanced back to him and rubbed her hands over her
arms. "And I hope to keep it that way. He scares me."
Those big brown eyes held a gaze that rippled right
through him, and his hands rose to caress her upper arms.
"There's nothing to fear. I won't let anyone harm you."
"I know," she murmured and took a step forward. Her
head nestled against his chest. "I just wish I wasn't such a
burden to you."
He took a step back, forced her to look up at him. "Did Ma
say you were a burden? 'Cause if she did—"
She pressed a finger to his lips, and her chest heaved with
a sigh. "No, Ma didn't say anything. I just know I am. I've
always been a burden. Ask my father. Ask Belinda, or Aunt
Corrine." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
A familiar wave of dislike roamed up, made his lips pucker
and the urge to wring Thurston Fulton's neck struck him like a
snake bite. "Your father doesn't—"
Her finger increased its pressure. "Please. I don't want to
argue about my father."
He didn't want to argue about her father either. The touch
of her finger, though slight and truly insignificant, had lit a
flame of desire in the pit of his soul. The fire rising up his
loins could set the warning bell off at the newly built fire
station down on Front Street. Before he could fathom a
reason not to, he folded his hands over her cheeks, held her
face still, and pressed his lips to hers.
It had been weeks since he'd kissed her—really kissed her,
tongue and all. The taste, that irresistible sweetness, was like
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the first bite of a luscious dessert and instantly made him
want more.
She tilted her head, and he took it as an invitation to delve
deeper. His hands, while roaming her back, pulled her close
so their bodies, from knees to shoulders, could merge. Her
arms wrapped around his waist and featherlike touches
floated up and down his back. The effect sent waves of
pleasure gushing hard enough to make his head swoon and
caused his manhood to stand upright and throb.
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A rumble of a wagon or maybe the hooting of men made
Howard lift his head. It took a moment for the haze to clear
enough for him to see the group of workmen whooping and
hollering from the building site, and the wagon carrying
Randi's Aunt Corrine rolling up the road.
"Good-afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Quinter," Corrine Martin
said as she waggled her fingers. The wagon rolled completely
past, and Corrine's high giggle, wafting in the air faded,
before he pulled his eyes to Randi. The last thing he wanted
to do was embarrass her and making a complete spectacle in
the middle of the road, had to top the cake for embarrassing
moments.
Her face wasn't red with anger or embarrassment. Instead
her eyes shone with something he could only interpret as
merriment. Actually, her whole face glowed as if she'd
swallowed the sun. Happiness flew about his insides like a
flock of butterflies.
She slipped her hands away from his waist.
"Well, I suppose I should let you get on your way," she
said, her eyes following the wagon.
"Uh?"
One of her hands rose, a finger pointed at the big house
down the road. "You said you were on your way to seeing
Danny J. Looks like he and Corrine are back now."
"Oh, it wasn't important," he said.
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They stood in the road for a moment, each glancing about
before their gazes met and held onto one another for an
extended length of time. The chirps of birds flying overhead
and the pounding of the men, who'd forgotten the show and
returned to work filled the warm air.
"I—uh, I have bread to check." She twisted, pulled her
gaze from his, but didn't move.
"I'll help you." He took her elbow, and together,
companionably, they walked across the area. There was
something comforting and gratifying about walking beside
her, almost as if she were a very dear friend.
She was a dear friend, more than a dear friend. He'd
already concluded that. Problem was he really didn't know
what to do about it. The thought of marriage had long since
settled, and he had to admit, he liked the notion. Liked
waking to her every morning, liked sleeping with her every
night, other than the fact sexual tension was driving him
insane. He'd even contemplated making a mid-night trip up to
Danny J's, but knew that would be extremely awkward if
anyone found out, which was sure to happen no matter how
discreet he tried to make it.
Besides, it wasn't just sex he wanted, he wanted his wife—
his wife
. Damn if that wasn't an overpowering thought. Randi
was his wife. He glanced her way.
She'd said she wanted to stay, wanted to help with the
hotel, but she'd never said she wanted to be his wife. And he
couldn't force her to—that certainly wouldn't be right.
"Howard, can I ask you something?"
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She stood beside the fire, replacing the lid after checking
on her bread. Her cooking skills even surpassed his,
something he'd realized after that first day. He'd not only
accepted the fact, but liked it.
"Never mind," she said.
"No," he said, comprehending his delay in response was
the reason she retracted her question.
"No, go ahead, ask anything you want."
Nibbling on her bottom lip, she shook her head. "No, never
mind," she said nervously.
He stepped forward, took both of her hands. Caressing the
backs with his thumbs, partial to the feel of her skin, he said,
"No, I mean it, ask anything you want."
"No—"
"Randi," he interrupted. "Ask me."
Randi froze, couldn't even swallow around the lump in her
throat. How could she have thought about asking him such a
thing? It was foolish, so very stupid. Of course he regretted
marrying her. The bravado, the boldness his kiss had instilled,
washed away and left behind nothing but idiocy.
"Randi?" he repeated.
"I was just wondering how the building was coming along,"
she lied.
His brows pulled together, and she stilled her breathing,
hoping he wouldn't see through her fib and force her to tell
the truth.
"The building site?" he asked with disbelief.
"Uh-huh." She nodded, trying to act nonchalant, making
her fib more believable.
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