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Authors: Montana Marriages Trilogy

Mary Connealy (62 page)

BOOK: Mary Connealy
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Belle lay on her side, stared into the crackling, glowing embers of the fire, and cried. Tears soaked into her sleeve where she rested her head on her arm. She was letting her firstborn go. With her tears, Belle came to see she’d accepted the situation. She was going to give Lindsay and Roy her blessing.

Crying silently, Belle fell asleep praying for life to be kinder to Lindsay than it had been to her.

Glowing Sun saw her chance and ran.

Her village was only miles away now. She was in territory she recognized. She was home.

But even as she dashed up a steep incline, she admitted she wasn’t running from those evil men. She ran because she feared what Wade made her feel.

She had taken a direct route no horse could follow and had gone nearly a mile when the thudding of hooves sounded behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know he’d come. Wade, with his warm, kind eyes that spoke of dreams and a future, would always come.

And he’d take Glowing Sun away from the only world she understood.

Away from the man she’d promised herself to. She couldn’t betray that promise, even if now the thought of marrying Wild Eagle frightened her. How could she marry him when she’d been willing—no, eager—for Wade to kiss her?

She didn’t dart into the woodlands or scale the rocks. She’d been riding with Wade long enough to know he wouldn’t stop until he caught her. He’d want to hold her again.

She didn’t think she could say no.

Finally, as she ran alongside a trickling brook, the horse drew up beside her and she stopped. Turning, she saw Wade rein in his horse and swing down to the ground with a jingle of spurs and the creak of leather. “You’re safe. That man is dead.” He said it with such kindness, as if she were running for her life, not from her emotions.

Glowing Sun nodded. Much of her white language had come back to her as they’d talked. “Safe” she knew. “Dead” she knew.

Wade dropped his reins to the ground, which kept his well-trained horse in place. The animal turned its muzzle to the crystal stream and drank noisily.

Coming until they stood toe to toe, he tipped his hat back so his eyes weren’t shaded and smiled down at her. “The saddle partner, the other man who held you prisoner, took care of the outlaw who got the drop on us. He’s a decent man who means you no harm. He’s not following us. You’re safe now.”

Those words meant the world to her. Except she was only safe from that man, not from Wade. Not from herself.

“Go home to Salish village.” Glowing Sun nodded.

Wade shook his head. “Stay.”

Glowing Sun understood that, too. “Home.”

“Come home with me. Marry me, Glowing Sun. I love you.”

She understood every word. She loved him, too. But his world frightened her. His world had killed her white family, and it threatened her Indian family every day. And she’d made promises. “No.”

Wade smiled. “Yes. Please.”

“Thank you.” That wasn’t exactly right, except in her heart the words were perfect because she was so thankful a man as fine as Wade wanted her.

Cradling her hands in his, he dropped down on one knee. Glowing Sun had no idea what that meant. She only knew it looked like begging. Such a proud man, so strong, so courageous, and she was making him beg. She felt shame and tugged on his hands.

“I love you. I know we haven’t known each other long …” He fell silent, struggling.

Glowing Sun knew he searched for simple words that made sense to her.

“Time.” He swiped at his hat and threw it to the ground beside them and his eyes gleamed with hope. “Give me time. Come back to
my
village. I’ve got a safe place you can stay until you…you’re…uh…until you love me, too. My friends, the Dawsons, will let you stay there, safe. We can get to know each other better. Please just give me a chance.”

He seemed so sure. And why wouldn’t he be? He’d held her after he’d guided her down from the tree, felt her respond, felt her longing to kiss him. What else could a man think?

Glowing Sun pulled harder on his hands, and he stood, as if he’d do anything she asked of him, devote his life to pleasing her.

Wild Eagle wasn’t a man like this. He wouldn’t think of her pleasure. He was strong, harsh even, a great warrior who would give her strong sons. An Indian woman wanted that in her husband.

Not this softness, the kind eyes and sweetness and concern. Glowing Sun’s heart ached to think she’d have none of this in her life.

Wade stood before her, waiting.

“I have remembered much white words.” She squeezed his hands, wishing he would let go. Wishing she could want him to.

“Abby. Abigail. My white name. My family dead. Fever. I—ten. Ten summers. Salish father found me. Took me from house of death. Went to Salish village.”

“They saved you.” Wade smiled, listening to every word.

Had Wild Eagle ever listened to her this way?

“I have to go home. To my Salish village. I—” She fumbled for the right word. “Promised. I would keep my promises to my people.” Her heart cut like a knife, each beat a stab to her chest. “No, Wade. I will not marry you. No.” She had to force the next breath through the thickness of tears clogging her throat. “Thank you.”

Wade shook his head as if her words made no sense.

Perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps she’d spoken them wrong.

“Come home with me. Marry me. I love you.”

Glowing Sun jerked her hands free, shaking her head. She took two steps backward, planning to run. He’d catch her. Maybe his arms would wrap around her. Maybe he’d kidnap her this time and force her to do the thing she wanted most—be with him.

The betrayal of Wild Eagle and her people wouldn’t be her choice then. She could live with the decision if Wade made it for her.

She took another step, and joyfully, she braced to have her future decided for her…by Wade.

C
HAPTER
18

B
elle was barely aware of it when Silas came back to camp, ate quickly, and crawled into a bedroll on the far side of the fire. She should have gotten up and asked about the sale, but her head ached from her tears, and she was groggy and stupid with exhaustion.

When morning came, there was no time for sorrow or second thoughts.

Silas got twenty-five dollars a head for the cattle. Cash money. He’d ridden back to camp with twenty-five thousand dollars in his saddlebags and slept light with his shotgun close to hand.

Riders came and drove the herd away before breakfast.

Silas took charge of the morning camp. “We’ve got to see to the wedding then hit the trail for home before the mountain passes close up on us. Let’s go into town.”

“I’ll see to the preacher,” Belle said.

Silas doused the barely smoldering fire. “Let’s meet at the Cattleman’s Diner for lunch and have the wedding right afterward. We can start making tracks before the day is done.”

Which mean Silas was going back with her. Or was he going as far as Lindsay’s valley? Maybe he planned to stake a claim there, too.

It didn’t matter. With him or not, getting back home before her valley snowed shut for the winter was still a worry.

The men planned to head for the land office and stake their claims, sixteen-year-old Roy included.

Before they rode off, Belle pulled Silas aside. “I’m planning on buying some things to help Lindsay run a household. We’ll have some cattle to herd and a wagonload of goods at least.”

Silas nodded as if Belle was asking him permission, when in fact she was just warning him of more work. But she liked having him in agreement. He tugged on the brim of his hat. “Good thinking. Lindsay’s earned a share of the herd, so don’t be tightfisted.” He rode off before Belle could punch him.

Belle and the girls went to the mercantile, and Belle went on a shopping spree.

“We need to set you up for housekeeping, Lindsay. It will be my wedding present to you and Roy.”

“How do you do that, Ma?”

Belle realized that Lindsay had hardly ever been to a town. For their own safety, Belle had left the girls home when she’d bought supplies. And Belle had bought only the most basic goods, living off the land for the most part. Salt, sugar, flour, little else. Smiling, Belle said, “I’ll show you.”

She bought a winter’s worth of food for four hungry people. There would be no garden supplying them, so she bought canned vegetables and fruit. Salt pork, salted fish, slabs of bacon and ham, and anything else that caught her fancy. Then she turned to yard goods for curtains and sheets and bed ticking, heavy cloth for winter clothes and lighter fabric for summer. She also found several ready-made dresses for Lindsay, since she wouldn’t be coming home to pack, and several pairs of wool pants and flannel shirts for Roy. Belle also threw in new outfits for Buck and Shorty, worried that a man might not think of such things. Needles and thread, pails and tools. She added dishes and pots and pans, including, of course, a good-sized cast-iron skillet. She threw in an extra just to be on the safe side.

The list kept growing, but Belle didn’t hesitate. Nor did she restrict herself to household goods. She found a livery that sold her two teams of oxen and two big freight wagons to carry the ever-growing load.

Belle found chickens and a milk cow with a calf and a pair of suckling pigs, though they were expensive. She bought a fine Hereford bull and ten head of cows.

She’d spent nearly five thousand of her twenty-five thousand dollars before midday.

She ordered the supplies loaded then headed for the land office to buy several tracts of land. She already controlled them because of her water rights. She also owned the passes into the valley, so she could block anyone else from entering. She considered the land hers, but she wanted a clear title. Pointing to a map, she described the acres she wanted to the slender clerk.

Wire-rimmed glasses perched on his hawkish nose. His skin had a pallor that said he rarely stepped outside. “All of this is fine except for this one parcel. Someone staked a claim on it.” He indicated the high valley where she’d lost track of so many cattle last spring. “I’m sorry, but that’s already taken.”

“But there’s not water up there. I own the springs and the gap into the valley. No one can live there.”

The man shrugged. “I didn’t quibble with the buyer. I expect a man to know what he’s claiming. Maybe once your new neighbor finds out the lay of the land, he’ll sell to you.”

Belle’s heart pounded at the thought of some man invading her home. “Who bought it? Is he here in Helena?”

“Now, ma’am, I can’t tell you any of this.” The land agent lifted his nose at her. “It’s not my business to go blabbing about land sales. Trouble can come of it.”

Belle fought the urge to grab the smug man by his shirtfront.

She’d show him trouble. “Just give me a name. I’ll ask around and see if he’s still in town.”

“I’ll figure out what you owe for the rest of this property, though it’s irregular to sell to a woman.” The haughty tone grated on Belle’s already-shredded temper.

Clamping her mouth shut, Belle produced the note she’d carried for years from her lawyer, giving her authority over the fund she’d created for her daughters. That authority granted her the right to buy land.

The man sniffed but let the sale go through.

As she signed the papers and handed over her money, she thought of that piece she wanted most, a high valley that stretched itself down almost to her ranch house, the one that she used for a summer range. Fear twisted Belle’s stomach. She had used that valley for sixteen years.

When she produced five thousand in cash, the land agent was slightly less rude. The purchase brought her holdings to over twenty thousand acres. A lot of it was rugged and next to useless. Still, it connected her ranch into one solid block of property.

She walked out of the land office shaken from leaving it too late to get hold of the high valley. Her cattle could winter over in it, unless she got home to find a settler had moved in already, but she’d have to cull the herd sharply again next year or she’d hurt her range from overgrazing.

Whoever lived there would be a close neighbor and might dispute some of the water rights Belle owned. The titles were all clearly in her hands. But the law didn’t mean much when you lived as far out as Belle. Strength held land more than a deed. She could only hope that whoever her new neighbor was, he would be friendly. With a clenched jaw, she wondered if she’d be able to keep the buyer out by refusing permission to cross through the gap. But that gap was a fair ride from home, and she couldn’t guard it day and night.

With her grazing land reduced, that meant a repeat of this blasted cattle drive next year. With a catch in her throat, she realized it also meant she’d get to visit Lindsay. If Lindsay and Roy came for a visit in the spring and Belle drove past their valley later in the summer, she’d see her daughter twice this year. Only twice.

Only years of self-discipline kept Belle from crying her heart out.

Her girls quietly followed her out of the office. They’d sat waiting on a bench near the front door, out of earshot. Belle didn’t share her worry with them. Emma would have to know eventually, but why burden Lindsay with these problems? She’d soon enough have her own.

BOOK: Mary Connealy
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