Montana Rose (14 page)

Wade waited hungrily for a sight of her. She came out and helped with chores a lot, and Wade could hardly keep himself from charging down to that pitiful ranch and grabbing her. Oh, she’d fight him. She was a respectable woman, after all, and she was married. But inside she’d be glad he took her. She’d even be glad if her husband was dead so she’d no longer be bound to him.

Wade remembered how he used to watch the Griffin place until her fool husband rode off to town. As soon as Griffin was gone, he’d ride up to the house. He’d come up on the porch and hammer on the door until she opened it. Then he’d deliberately stand too close to her. He thought of her fear. Because his love for her was hopeless, he’d been furious. He’d wanted her to be afraid. But now he understood. She wasn’t afraid of Wade. She was afraid of what he made her feel.

The anger surged upward again, and he grabbed for his whiskey flask to wash the anger back down before it choked him. He thought about Dawson inside that house with the china doll for the night, and suddenly something snapped inside him. He wanted to kill Dawson, then drag the china doll off and marry her before his father knew anything about it. And if his father objected, Wade would kill him, too. Wade’s hand itched to pull his revolver and go down to that house and have it out once and for all.

Wade’s eyes traveled over the Dawson place, and he noticed the cattle moving slowly toward a water hole Dawson had dammed up across his creek. Wade’s eyes narrowed as he thought of how he’d always pulled back from killing. He took a long pull on his whiskey, let the burn stoke the fire of his rage, and thought of a way to strike a blow against Dawson.

This he did have the guts to do, and maybe it would make the next time, the time Dawson died, easier. Wade drank until his conscience was silenced then he planned. Soon he left his lookout and rode home to get what he needed to strike before morning.

Belle rode out before first light.

She’d told the girls she was going, and they were already hard at work before dawn anyway. The three of them would stay outside until breakfast time. Anthony would be awake by then ... maybe.

The weather looked fair, and she pushed her mount hard to eat up the ground.

Still, it was midmorning before the Dawson place came into sight. She’d never been here before and she noticed the way the soddy was built up against the canyon wall. Smart. She wished she’d have thought of that. She had a lot of skills but she’d never had the knack for building a sound structure, and there was no one to teach her. Her house and barn showed it.

She rode straight up to the soddy, noting the solid barn and the tight corrals. Even the sod house was square and solid looking. She tied her horse to the hitching post and strode to the front door, pounding on it.

It took a long time, but finally the heavy door, hinged with leather straps, scraped open and Cassie looked outside.

Belle thought she looked about the same age as Lindsay, and it made her mother’s heart turn over to think of this woman on her second marriage, having a baby she had probably never asked for. It made Belle want to go to war to protect her.

“Uh ... you’re ... Belle? Right? Belle Santoni?”

“Most folks call me Belle Tanner. They can’t keep up with the different husbands.” Belle nodded. “Just stopping in to visit if that’s okay.”

Cassie nodded and swung the door wide. “I’ve got coffee on. Red usually comes in for a cup about now. There’s plenty and I’ve fried some doughnuts.”

Belle could smell the grease and sugar and the savory hot coffee. The house smelled wonderful and Cassie smiled as she let Belle pass.

Belle felt awkward. She’d expected to find the girl in terrible straits. And perhaps she was. But it was hard to tell from the smile on her face.

Looking around, Belle noticed the cave entrance. “He built this in front of a cave?”

“Come and look. The cave is our bedroom, and over there”—Cassie pointed to a circle of buffalo hide hanging on the wall—“is a cave with a cold spring running through it we call the cooler.”

Instead of rescuing the girl, Belle was struck dumb with envy. She got a full tour then settled in at the table with coffee and sweets.

“When’s your baby due?” Cassie laid her hand on her stomach.

“Spring or thereabouts.”

Cassie’s eyes grew round. “Don’t you know for sure either?”

“Either?”
Feeling her brow furrow, Belle tried to answer in a way that would keep Cassie talking. Didn’t the woman know when her child was coming? “Well, it’s never exact. But I can guess pretty close. When is yours?”

Cassie began talking like a woman who was starved for another woman. Belle knew she’d be half mad with loneliness if her girls weren’t always at hand.

“Muriel told you what?” Belle gasped at the amazing amount of detail Muriel had dumped on Cassie. Belle considered setting the poor thing straight but worried she’d just upset Cassie more with conflicting information.

“And then her mother-in-law had her bite on a stick so...”

Belle had never considered biting on a stick. The idea had merit. Belle listened more closely. When the girl ran down, Belle said, “I’ve had my young’uns pretty much by myself, without knowing overly much about what to expect. They just go ahead and be born no matter what you do. Not much sense learning a bunch of rules about ’em ’cuz my three were all different.”

Cassie’s eyes grew wide. “They’re different? What do you mean?”

“Well, different lengths of time that the laboring goes on. Different feeling to each time, one’ll be harder, the next easier. Not much rhyme or reason to it.”

“Leota Pickett has five, and she said hers were all mostly the very same.”

Shrugging, Belle changed the subject. “So, how do you like married life?”

“It’s wonderful but kind of sad, too.”

“What’s sad about it?” Belle knew good and well what was sad about married life. The list was so long ... well, there wasn’t enough paper and ink in the world.

Blushing, Cassie leaned close and whispered, “Red won’t kiss me.”

Belle jerked upright in her chair. “He won’t?” Belle never had that problem.

Cassie shook her head, her cheeks blazing pink. “You’ve been married three times. Could you get any of them to kiss you?”

Because she couldn’t collect an intelligent thought in her head, Belle poured her coffee down her throat even though it was still nearly burning hot and held out her cup. “Can I have some more?”

Cassie hurried to get the pot and pour while Belle tried to gather her thoughts.

By the time Cassie settled in, Belle said, “So you must like having a husband, then?”

Cassie nodded.

“Did you like your other one?”

Cassie froze, her eyes wide as a startled deer. “Of ... of course.”

Belle shook her head. “I didn’t figure you did. Worthless man. My husbands have all been pretty much worthless. Made more work for me.”

“Well, I’m trying to work, but Red won’t let me do much, and he hovers. Can I ask you a question?” Cassie had a look like she was scared to death of the next words she planned to say.

“Sure.” Belle braced herself. This was going to be more overly personal details about having a baby. The girl was just full of questions and strange information.

“The way you talked to Red, and Muriel and Seth for that matter, how ... how did you work ... work up the courage to speak so boldly? I’ve never known a woman to be so ... so...”

“Cranky?” Belle fought a smile.

“No, well, yes, a little I guess, but I wish ... I mean, do your husbands like it? Did they tell you to act that way?”

Belle set her tin coffee cup down with a
click
and rested her arms on the table. She bent closer to Cassie. “No man tells me how to act. I act as I like, and he can put up with it and keep his mouth shut or get out.”

Cassie’s eyes got wide, and Belle wondered if the girl was going to tell Belle to get out. But those eyes studied her. Quiet, watchful.

“What are you thinking?” Belle had spent most of the last fourteen years shut up in her mountain valley. Truth be told, she hadn’t been around women much ... nor men ... save her children and the husbands.

“I’m just trying to remember the way you look straight into my eyes. The way you speak as if you don’t give one tiny fig if I like it or not. That’s ... that’s...”

“Arrogant? Rude? Stupid?” Belle arched one brow.

“Wonderful.” The word was breathed quietly. “Did your mother act like this or did one of your husbands ask it of you?”

Belle was torn between snarling and smiling. The thought that one of her husbands would order her to be so contemptuous of him was really pretty funny. “My mother was a perfect Southern lady. My husbands have been content to let me be however I want to be as long there’s plenty of hot food and I let them slink off and hide come chore time.”

“Griff said a woman’s place was in the home and it was shameful to do men’s work.”

Belle didn’t respond but just stared straight into Cassie’s eyes, wondering if the girl would realize that she’d just insulted Belle mightily.

“But I think it’s wonderful. I wish I was more like you.”

And just like that, Belle had a sister. Not a child like her girls, but a woman who didn’t look down on her. Even admired her. Belle wanted to take Cassie home now more than ever.

The door opened fast and Red came in, breathing hard.

Belle suspected he’d recognized her horse and figured she was here to kidnap his wife. Well, Belle knew for a fact Cassie wouldn’t want to be kidnapped, and it made Belle so curious it was killing her. How could Cassie be
happy?
Was Red an actual
good man
or was Cassie just that gullible?

Belle had to admit the ways of God were a pure mystery.

The little pang of jealousy surprised Belle as she studied Red. His eyes were sharp. His chest heaving as if he’d sprinted. But he didn’t say a word except to greet her.

“Belle, you’ve come for a visit. Good to see you. You should have brought the girls.”

Belle had tried to be casual with Cassie, but because she didn’t know how to be much else than blunt on the normal course of things, she said, “I came to check if she was all right.”

“I’m glad you did. And you can see, she’s fine.”

Belle turned back to Cassie, who was busy staring at Red as if she were trying to think of a way to trick him into kissing her.

“It defies reason, but she does seem to be fine.”

Red laughed as he poured himself coffee then settled onto the floor by the fireplace before Belle even realized there were only two chairs in the house. “I spent the morning trying to help a critter bent on killing me even though I was trying to save his life.” Red was off telling them both about a rambunctious steer that had gotten its horns hung up when it was trying to climb into a really tight clump of aspen trees. When Red tried to get him, the steer had fought as if Red were planning on turning him into a steak dinner.

Red was obviously here to watch out for his wife. But he wasn’t rude about it. In fact, he was so kind and friendly, and had so obviously been working hard all morning, that Belle was nearly unable to believe Red’s story.

A sudden flash of insight told Belle that
all
men weren’t worthless. And didn’t that mean that the problem was really with
her
because she picked such a poor lot? It was a sad thing to admit.

Belle stared into her cup of coffee while Red told his story, Cassie hanging on every word, laughing given half a chance.

Red made the story alive and funny with his arm movements and exaggerated tones. Belle realized she’d never had this long a conversation with one of her husbands. Oh, she’d talked at them and they’d talked at her, but they didn’t interact. She expected nothing of them and they gave her exactly that. Would Anthony be different if
she
were different? Maybe. Belle had never considered it before.

When Red finished his tale, Belle decided since she had a chance at talking to a man who might have some sense, she’d see if she could learn anything. “How’d you build this sod house? How do you make it weathertight?”

Red leaned forward. “Is your house giving you trouble? Maybe Cassie and I could come up for a day and give you a hand. I don’t suppose Anthony—”

“Anthony is nothing.” Belle wondered now if that was completely fair. “And you can’t come because the pass is getting ready to blow shut. You might find yourself trapped in there for the winter.”

“So why are you out here? Aren’t you afraid of getting snowed out?” Red looked straight into her eyes.

Belle had dealt with too many weasel men in her life. She wasn’t used to this kind of straight talk and respect. She could give Red nothing less than the truth. “I just needed to make sure about Cassie.”

“I’m all right, but thank you for worrying.”

Belle turned to Cassie. “I—I haven’t been able to stop worrying about you. You remind me of myself when I was younger. Married to a man who wasn’t much use. Then alone and forced to marry again. It was hard. I felt like I could protect you from that life.”

“I don’t need protection from Red.” Cassie’s cheeks pinked up again.

Belle realized that what Cassie needed was a husband who would kiss her. Well, Belle could give her no advice or guidance that didn’t include a skillet. She saw the way the man looked at Cassie and the way Cassie looked back and suspected Red would figure everything out on his own and soon enough. She’d be switched if she’d give advice on that. And anyway, she’d never tried to get a man to do such a thing in her life. Avoiding a husband was the trick she’d perfected. She laid her hand on her belly. Nearly perfected.

“You’re going through the winter with a house that isn’t tight?” Red sounded worried, as if he were considering following her home and helping out.

“We’ll be fine.”

“Do you know how to drive straw into the chinks to stop the wind?”

Belle shook her head.

“Come on outside and I’ll show you what I do. It makes a big difference. And I use mud to plug up holes, too.” Red stood without a single grunt or groan, no whining that Belle was making work for him or nagging him.

“Can I come, too?” Cassie asked.

Red smiled at her, a private kind of smile that made Belle’s heart ache in a way it never had before. She didn’t even know why it hurt.

“Sure. Come along, Cass honey. Get your coat, though. It’s sharp out today.” He even helped Cassie on with her coat.

Red insisted on telling her about how to chink the cracks in her house.

Belle had never had a man ... outside of someone from the Bates’ store, do anything to help her. Belle went home alone, no kidnapping necessary, riding hard in case of a sudden storm, confused by Red’s kindness and Cassie’s longing for her husband to kiss her.

The gap hadn’t closed, but a storm was brewing in the west, and Belle’s heart pounded to think she’d have been trapped away from her children all winter. She did a ragged job of tarring the house and chinked the holes with hands full of straw, showing her girls how to help her.

Anthony had gone back to sitting on the roof, but their activity so close seemed to disturb him, and he climbed down and walked up to the Husband Tree to find peace. She watched him go, trying to imagine wanting him to kiss her. She put up with what she had to because a man had his rights, but she avoided it whenever she could. As he strode away, Belle considered all she’d learned today. Mainly, if all husbands weren’t no-account, then she’d either picked in ignorance or deliberately married bums. And either way it added up to her being an idiot.

And a tiny, guilty part of herself wondered if she hadn’t been so bossy and rude, if maybe William or Gerald or Anthony might have stepped up.

Looking up, she saw Anthony planting his backside down to sit and lean against the Husband Tree. She decided she’d give the man a chance to be a man.

“You like me, don’t you, girl?” Cassie leaned her head into Rosie’s flank.

The ornery cow slowed her kicking if Cassie wedged her head in the exact spot Red had shown her. Rosie kept chewing on her manger full of hay, but her tail quit twitching for an instant and Cassie took that for a yes.