Authors: Debra Glass
LoverforRansom (15 page)
She tried to push herself up but her arms were too weak.
His eyes snapped open and at once, he was by her side with
the bottle of opiates. She shook her head and covered his hand with her own.
“I’ll be all right.”
“Are you in pain?” he asked.
“Not too badly,” she said. “I’ll manage.” Her eyes widened.
“Aunt Chloe? Is she—”
“A bruised knee. She’ll recover.”
Relief washed through Cathleen. “Was anyone else hurt?”
“A couple of the night riders.”
“They won’t—”
His expression turned grave. “They’re dead, Cathleen. Dead
and buried in the woods behind the shanty town.”
“How’d you know to—”
“A few weeks back, I asked Jeff to follow you,” he said. “I
knew what you were up to.”
Remorse flooded Cathleen. “I’m sorry, Ransom. I’m so sorry.
I just never… I never wanted anyone else to get hurt. You tried to tell me and
I wouldn’t listen.”
He dampened his lips with the tip of his tongue.
“If you knew I was going to the town, why didn’t you force
me to stop?” she asked.
A little smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Force
you?” He laughed. “What good would it have done? Cathleen, teaching, helping
people—it’s who you are. It’s why I…why I love you.”
Her breath froze in her lungs.
“Dammit,” he said. “I love you. This foolishness is about to
end.”
She blinked, still not sure she was awake, that this was
real.
“As soon as you’re well, we are going to the church and we
are going to get married whether you like it or not,” he said adamantly.
“But…”
“You listen here,” he said. “You’ve changed me, woman.
You’ve given me my family back.”
“I haven’t—”
“Hush,” he said. “I’m not done. Loving you has restored me.”
He covered his heart with his hand.
She searched his eyes, hoping—praying—his declarations were
true, and at the same time knowing he’d never lie to her. Still, she couldn’t
take anything from him he wasn’t willing to give. “Ransom…I can’t let you…”
He blurted a laugh. “You can’t let me? You can’t let
yourself.”
Realization warmed her and tingled in her fingertips and
toes. He was right. On some level, she feared she didn’t deserve happiness.
She’d never really known it until coming to Byrne’s End.
She swallowed thickly.
He stroked her hair. “Do you love me?”
“I…” She wanted this. She wanted him. Oh God in heaven, how
she wanted him!
“Do you? It’s a simple question, Cathleen.”
Tears filled her eyes. She nodded. “I do.”
For a steep second emotion sweetened his patrician features
and then the hardness returned. “Then it’s settled. We’re getting married.”
Out of sheer habit, she would have protested if he hadn’t
prevented it by pressing his lips to hers and kissing her tenderly.
Ransom paced outside by the carriage. Charles sat atop the
driver’s seat, dressed in all new finery that included a black coat with tails
and a stovepipe hat. Jenny and Sissy had draped festive garland around the
carriage and even the horse.
To lighten the solemnity of the occasion, String Bean had
been bedecked with silk flowers and was set to trail behind the coach.
Sissy huddled in her coat. “It’s chilly out here,” she said
to Ransom.
He huffed. “That infernal woman. What’s taking her so long?”
Aunt Chloe, Merry and Sally had already gone to the church.
There couldn’t be anything keeping Cathleen. Chloe would have never left if
Cathleen hadn’t been perfect.
Ransom started up the steps to go inside.
“You’re not supposed to see the bride beforehand!” Sissy
blurted.
“Ransom!” Jenny cried, upon hearing Sissy’s outburst.
“Wait here,” he said and stalked into the house anyway.
“Cathleen! Are you coming?”
Hurried footsteps reverberated on the floor overhead.
Ransom cursed and climbed the stairs two at a time. “Dammit,
woman…”
His words trailed away at the sight of her.
Dressed in the gown Sissy had worn to marry his father,
Cathleen was the most beautiful creature Ransom had ever seen.
The low neckline accentuated her perfect breasts. Just enough
cleavage peeped over the lace-and-pearl-trimmed bodice to entice. Yards and
yards of shimmering ivory satin wafted over stiff crinolines and wide hoops.
Chloe had spared no amount of fuss over Cathleen’s hair. The black locks had
been brushed to a shine and drawn back into a chignon at the nape of her neck.
An ethereal veil had been pinned at the crown and floated around her like an
angel’s aura.
This woman was dressed to become his bride.
His.
Ransom was speechless.
Tears stained her cheeks and she dabbed at them with a
handkerchief.
He swallowed thickly. “What’s the matter, darling?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Is this really happening? To me?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question,” he said, approaching
her slowly.
She let out a nervous laugh. “I’m afraid.”
“I’m more afraid of waking up in my bed without you next to
me.”
She searched his eyes. “Are you certain this is what you
want?”
“Oh, very certain.” He took her hands in his.
“What are people going to think?” she asked.
He laughed. “Listen to you! Since when have you been
concerned with what people will think?”
She smiled.
“And if they don’t like the fact that my…wife…” He smiled.
“Cathleen, darling, I admire what you’re doing with the freedmen schools and
with the wounded veterans. No one in Thompson’s Station is going to question
it. Or you. Ever.”
She pursed her lips.
“I love you,” he said. “I love you for everything you do and
everything you are.”
Some of the tension seemed to melt from her shoulders.
“Promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Don’t ever change. Don’t ever stop being
you
.”
Her smile broadened. “I promise.”
Her skirts rustled as he stepped closer to brush a kiss
across her lips. “Let’s go get this over with. I can’t wait to get you back
home and out of that dress.”
Epilogue
“Look there, sweetheart. That’s your momma,” Ransom said to
his five-year-old daughter as he pointed out the woman in the blue dress
delivering a fiery oratory from an amphitheater stage.
Lilly Byrne lifted her chin to peer over the heads of the
throng who’d assembled to hear the speakers advocating women’s rights.
Women, some bearing signs, dominated the crowd. Men
gathered, growing increasingly more cross with every word Cathleen spoke.
“You reckon it’s gonna be like last time?” Andy asked
softly.
Ransom flicked his gaze to his brother-in-law and nodded
once.
“Is that man mad at Momma?” Lilly asked, sticking out her
bottom lip.
Ransom scanned the crowd, looking for troublemakers. One man
in the front had grown red in the face, and from Cathleen’s expression, she was
having no trouble in besting his heckling jibes.
Ransom laughed. “Your momma’s what’s called a rabble-rouser,
Lilly.”
“A wabble-wouser?”
He chuckled. “Momma believes women should have the right to
vote just like menfolk.”
Lilly’s forehead furrowed. Her black ringlets bobbed as she
tilted her head to the side. “Vote?”
“As it stands, each man gets to cast a vote to elect a
politician to make decisions for the people.” To some children this age, the
concept would have been complicated. Not for Lilly. She was shaped from the
same mold as her headstrong—and frustratingly intelligent—mother.
“Girls don’t get to vote?”
“Not yet,” Ransom explained. “Momma wants to change that.”
“Me too. Mommas should get to vote!”
An overly ripe tomato came from somewhere in the crowd and
splatted all over the front of Cathleen’s blue dress.
Fists clenched, Andy started toward the throng. Ransom
clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Not yet.”
Andy shot him a hard look.
Ransom just grinned as several of the women who’d been
listening lit and turned on the man who’d thrown the tomato. One red-faced
suffragette conked him on the head with her protest sign while, more
impassioned than ever, Cathleen continued her speech.
Andy seemed flustered. “Don’t you think we ought to at
least—”
“Nope. She’s capable of handling that poor misguided soul,”
Ransom butted in. He patted his breast pocket. “Besides, this time I remembered
to bring bail money.”
Growing up in the south, where the air is thick with stories
steeped in legend and truth, Debra came by her love of romance novels honestly.
Well…sort of. At an early age, she pilfered from her grandmother’s extensive
library and has been a fan of the genre since.
A full-time freelance writer, Debra especially enjoys
combining history, mystery and a touch of taboo to weave stories with
unforgettable, haunted heroes.
She lives in Alabama with her sexy real life hero, a couple
of smart-aleck ghosts and a diabolical black cat.
Debra welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website
and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Debra
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Ellora’s Cavemen:
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Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Lover for Ransom
ISBN 9781419946059
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Lover for Ransom Copyright © 2013 Debra Glass
Edited by Kelli Collins
Cover design by Dar Albert
Photos: Chorazin, Creativenature/Fotolia.com and
RomanceNovelCovers.com
Electronic book publication March 2013
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