Boot Hill Bride (16 page)

His gaze bounced between her and the building before he

said, "Come on, I'll give you a tour."

"You will?" A sense of excitement rose beyond the regret

shrouding her. She'd wanted to see the site, but hadn't dared

to ask.

"Sure, take your bread off the fire, and we'll go."

Regrettably, she had to answer, "It's not done yet."

"The Dutch oven will keep it cooking, by the time the oven

is cool, the bread will be baked." He moved over, and using

the hot pads lying nearby on the table, he removed the large

cast iron kettle from the flames.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I've done it a million times over the years."

"You have?" she asked as they started to walk toward the

building.

"Yes, I have. I've always liked cooking. That's why I

decided to build a hotel and restaurant. At first I was going to

write cookbooks, but realized I like the actual cooking more

than writing down the recipes. What about you, what did you

want to be when you grew up?" He took her hand as they

walked side by side.

Puzzlement twisted her face. He likes to cook? No one had

mentioned that. His gaze continued to stare at her, and she

shook her head, clearing the shocking thoughts in order to

answer his question.

"I don't know. I never thought of it," she admitted

truthfully.

"You never thought of it?"

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"No, maybe when I was really little, but all I thought about

was taking care of Mama."
And later, hoped her father

wouldn't come home
. Guilt tightened her throat,

remembering the first time she remembered seeing him.

She'd been thirteen and wondered who he was. The man was

her father, and she hadn't known who he was. That is until he

left. Her mother, exhausted, had slept for days afterwards,

completely worn out. That had been the only time he'd come

to the farm without Belinda. Since then, they'd stopped by

two or three times a year, and each visit had seemed to

exhaust her mother more, which made his visits even more

distasteful and destructive to Randi. It took Mama longer to

recover after each visit, a fact that built a dark loathing deep

in the confines of her stomach. It rose again now, made her

grit her teeth.

Even after she'd wired Mama had died, it had taken him

almost five months before he came home. During that time,

Randi had grown used to the idea of living alone on the farm.

It couldn't really be called a farm, she silently admitted.

Though she'd paid taxes on close to a hundred acres

surrounding the small clapboard house, they'd never planted

any crops, nor owned any more than a batch of chickens and

a milk cow. The property had been her grandparents, and

truth be told, the only way they'd been able to pay the taxes

was because of the money Aunt Corrine sent.

When her father and Belinda arrived that day it had been

bitterly cold. That visit had proven to be the most distressing

one ever. He'd sold the farm. The new owners arrived the

following day. Randi had been unable to do anything except

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pack a small bag of clothing, forced to leave the only home

she'd ever known. Another wave of guilt flushed her system.

She'd failed her mother, too. It had been Mama's last breath,

torn with labored breathing, she'd begged,
Don't let him have

the farm.

"Hey, why the terrible frown?" Howard asked. "Don't you

like the bricks?"

Snapped back to the present, she let a blurred gaze

wander from the ground to the roof, taking in the entire

height of the structure standing before them. And she'd have

to leave again. She took a deep breath, tried to find an ounce

of courage.

"Maybe I should have just used wood, but bricks are more

solid," Howard said.

"No, I mean, yes, I like the bricks. I was just thinking

about something else for a moment."

"Not still worried about the bread, are you?"

She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, he sounded so

caring, so concerned. "No." Pointing up the front steps, to the

framed in doorway, she asked. "Can we go inside?"

"Sure." He took her arm and immediately began to explain

the layout. "There'll be a wide balcony here with tables for

people to dine outdoors if they wish." Entering the building,

he continued, "This'll be the front foyer, over here will be the

desk, and glass paneled doors over there to separate the

restaurant from the hotel."

Fresh cut boards, still sparkling white, greeted them on all

sides, but Randi could picture things in her mind just as he

described and allowed the images to wash away the

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disturbing thoughts that had been consuming her. The wood

would be stained a deep mahogany, or at least she hoped.

"Will the wood be stained?"

"Yes, I'm thinking dark mahogany, along with the floors.

The rugs I've ordered are the same blue as the material Ma's

using for curtains."

She pressed a hand to the excitement pounding in her

chest, clearly picturing the hotel complete and busting with

customers. Women in fancy dresses, men wearing smart

three-piece suits would fill the rooms, raving about the

beauty and comforts of the accommodations.

"Oh, Howard, it's going to be so beautiful."

He took her hand and led her through rooms framed in

with thick beams. "This is the dining room and through here

the kitchen."

"What's the large hole in the floor for?" she asked,

stepping closer to a big square open space.

"That's the well. The pipes should arrive any day now,

along with a plumber from Wichita."

Her eyes bugged. "You mean you'll have indoor plumbing?"

"Yes, just like the fancy hotels back east."

The delight and pride in his eyes made the beats of her

heart double up. If she were granted one wish, it would be to

stay here long enough to see his dream a reality. It felt

almost as if it was her dream, too. The excitement was too

much to contain. With an overjoyed yelp, she leaped forward

to wrap her arms around him.

He caught her, held her in a tight embrace with her feet

dangling somewhere around his shins. Their laughter echoed

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in the empty space as he twirled her about. The moment

passed slowly, giving them both time to fully enjoy the thrill

and enchantment. When Howard did lower her to the floor,

his gaze locked onto hers, and as if he read her silent prayer,

he leaned down to caress her lips with his. The kiss was

gentle, benevolent, and more empowering than the heated

one in the middle of the street had been.

The contact ended. Eyes closed and still swimming

somewhere in a heavenly pool, she couldn't stop the words

from emitting, "Oh, how I wish I was your wife."

One of his hands cupped her cheek. She lifted her lids and

met the gaze of silver-encrusted green eyes fastened on her.

"You are," he said.

An enchanting spell still circled around her, making her

thoughts turn into words on their own accord, before her

mind had a chance to quell them.

"No, not really."

"You could be." His voice was as soft as hers.

At that moment, she concluded she'd do anything to make

sure his dream came true. Even marry Edward Keyes. Then

her father wouldn't expect money from him. He needed it all.

This place must cost a fortune.

"When my father returns, I'll go back to Topeka with him,"

she said aloud and shuddered since the very thought caused

her stomach to ache.

He flinched, it was slight, but she felt it nonetheless.

"Do you want to return to Topeka?" he asked.

"No," she admitted in the softest whisper.

"Good, 'cause I don't want you to."

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"You don't?"

He ran a finger over her cheek. "Randi, would you like to

make our marriage real? I mean I know it's real. But how

would you feel about staying here, being my wife forever?"

She closed her eyes at the glob of regret plugging her

airway. "I can't," she muttered.

"Why not?"

Randi owed him an explanation, she knew that, but saying

it aloud would make it so real. She pulled in air, tried to

breathe.

"R—"

"My father," she interrupted.

He grabbed both of her shoulders with a stern hold. "I

don't give a damn about your father," he snapped, giving her

a small, firm shake. "I only care about you."

Her mind was a mess, swirling and twirling.

"What do
you
want?" His hold softened, and an almost

pleading glint appeared in his eyes.

The sight made her mind stumble, halt. Something warm

and soft settled in her chest.

"To stay," she whispered.

He met her gaze eye for eye, looked at her deeply. "And

be my wife? In every sense?"

Her heart was ready to burst right out of her chest and

thoughts flew about fast enough to make a bird dizzy.

"Yes," she said.

"Yes?" he asked with a touch of skepticism.

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She held her breath, praying with all the faith she ever

hoped to have that what she wanted was possible. Unable to

speak, she gave a nod of agreement.

"I'm talking forever," he said somewhat roughly. "I want

this marriage to last. No second chance. No skipping out later

on."

The room filled with a light so bright, it was almost

blinding. It was a second or two before she realized the light

was coming from inside her.

"Me, too," she admitted. "I want to stay, here, with you,

forever."

He tossed his head back, and a moment later his laughter

rippled the rafters like a ricocheting bullet. While it bounced

about overhead, his lips came down to connect with hers. She

wrapped one hand around the back of his head, kept him

from breaking their contact until the air in her lungs burned

with need to be released. The space surrounding them

practically sizzled when they separated. He tucked her head

beneath his chin, wrapped her in a tight hold.

His heart pounded below her ear. She closed her eyes,

listened to the steady beat, knowing it was the most

reassuring sound on earth. Another silent prayer formed in

her mind.
Please don't let me disappoint him, please.

A workman or two, she wasn't necessarily sure, entered

the room. Howard responded to their questions, which she

heard, but didn't bother to decipher, before he gently pushed

her from his chest.

"Come on, let me show you the rest of the building."

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She nodded, and as his arm circled her shoulder, hers

wrapped around his waist. Arm in arm they strolled across the

room. At that moment, bordered by his dream, which had

become hers, she recognized the floating on air feeling she

felt was love. True love, an emotion she comprehended to be

so strong, so real, there would never be a time she'd stop

loving him.

They roamed through the rooms until Randi felt as turned

around as if she'd been wandering in a fairytale forest. Then

again, the fact Howard would sneak a kiss whenever they

entered a room that didn't contain workmen, and she'd let

him, is more likely what had her head reeling as if she were

Cinderella herself. They were back in the foyer, a few minutes

after he stole a final kiss, when she realized he'd spoken.

"Excuse me?" Another blush made her cheeks tingle, this

time because her mind had been too busy relishing his latest

kiss for her ears to comprehend his question.

"I said it's up to you."

"What's up to me?" she asked sheepishly.

He kissed the tip of her nose and proved once again the

most simplistic touch could send her reeling.

"If we live at the hotel or if I have the workers start

building us a house."

"Oh, here. Definitely, here," she responded without an

inkling of doubt.

"Then here it is," he said, sounding as happy as she felt.

A remarkable sensation settled in her chest, warmed her

blood from tip to top as they walked hand in hand back to the

camp. It wasn't until he left her to return to work, after a

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mouth-watering, parting kiss, did she understand that hope

had entered her life. The optimism of living as Mrs. Howard

Quinter the rest of her born days made her steps lighter and

everything around her appeared brighter and almost

dreamlike. It was also powerful, as if she could conquer the

world and come out unscathed.

The afternoon moved into evening, and her good mood

must have been contagious, because even Ma's weathered

face broke into a grin now and again as they prepared