Reese (30 page)

Other folks who had left drifted in, some who had stayed drifted out. New people bought abandoned stores and started to make homes. But as summer blended toward fall, there was no sign of Reese. Mary told herself she didn't care.

She continued to work in the store. She and Rose became friends. Even the twins improved. They tried to emulate Reese, and it was so cute, and painful, to watch that Mary was both charmed and dismayed.

She told herself that her illness was because she worked too hard and slept too little. She refused to believe a broken heart could make you more physically ill with each new day. What she couldn't figure out was how her clothes could be tight when nothing she ate stayed down. They still had no doctor in Rock Creek, and there was no way she'd ask Nate anything.

The men were quite sweet, to be truthful. They seemed to have taken her under their wing like a broken bird. At least one of them stopped in the store every day. No one mentioned Reese. But as she became increasingly pale and the circles beneath her eyes darkened, the visits increased to one from each of them every day.

Mary was sad; half the time she found herself on the verge of tears, and she couldn't figure out why. Rock Creek was saved. She was accepted here. She'd found the home she'd been searching for all her life. But the place didn't feel like home, and she didn't know why.

A week before school started, Jo walked into the schoolhouse while Mary was cleaning the floor in preparation for the first day. She was as excited as she got every year before the first day of school—a new year, new students, new experiences. Mary loved to teach.

"Nate is worried about you." Mary glanced up and smiled. It was late in the day, and she was feeling pretty good. She'd continue to feel just fine—until morning.

"He send you over here?"

Jo shrugged and sat at one of the desks. "They're all worried about you. So am I."

"I'll be fine. If I can just manage to get through a morning without throwing up." Mary lifted a bucket of water and hissed when her corset cut into her hip.

"What was that?" Jo demanded.

"Nothing." Mary continued cleaning as she talked. "I seem to be gaining weight even though I can't keep down much of what I eat."

The door slammed, and Mary spun around to discover that Jo had slammed it. "That bastard!" Jo stalked down the aisle toward her. She put her hands on Mary's shoulders. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Reese. No wonder he hightailed it out of here and never looked back. I'm going to have Nate drag him in by his belt buckle."

"What are you talking about? Reese is gone; he isn't coming back. I've accepted that."

"You have? Then why do you stand on your back porch every day, watching the east as if you're waiting for someone?"

Mary blushed. She'd hoped no one would notice. She should have known she could hide nothing from Jo. "I'll stop," she said. "I don't like that he's gone, but I'll survive. I'll manage."

"Are you going to be able to manage as well for two as you manage for one?"

"Two who?"

"Two of you. Or rather a little you, or a little Reese if I don't miss my guess."

Mary's head went light—not an uncommon occurrence of late. She collapsed onto the nearest chair. Jo held her hand. "You didn't know?"

"It was only once. I can't be..."

"Once is all it takes."

The world swam. Jo put her arm around Mary and pulled her close so she wouldn't fall on her nose. "Are you sure, Jo?"

"Very." Mary moaned. "Who told you once wasn't enough?"

"The sisters who raised me."

"Nuns? You believed what nuns told you about something like this?"

"You sound like Reese."

"Where is he?"

"I have no idea. Neither do the others. He rode off, and they let him go. They think he'll come back, and I hoped they were right. But it's been so long... I don't think so anymore." Mary put her head between her knees, she was afraid if she didn't she would faint. Jo rubbed her back. "What am I going to do?"

"We'll think of something."

"I can't teach once I start to show. Oh, God, Jo, I'm all alone. Teaching is all I have. If I get fired, how will I survive? How will the baby survive?"

"Calm down. Do you think the people in this town will stone you? You saved their cowardly hides. Do you think those five men will let anyone hurt you? They follow you around like puppy dogs. They might be rough, but they're loyal. They admire you."

"Admiration and a nickel will get me a cup of coffee at the hotel."

"Don't be sarcastic. You don't have the luxury."

"Your father is going to burst a gut over this."

Jo sighed. "I know."

Mary stood and began to pace. "I'll leave. I'll go farther west, say I'm Mrs. something or other and my poor husband died. No one will know otherwise, and I can keep teaching."

"I think you should wait to make any decisions until the baby is born."

"Why?"

"I want to help." Jo hung her head. "I wasn't a very good friend. When you needed me at those lessons, I didn't come."

"You were there when it counted. You saved Reese, and I'll always be grateful."

"Maybe I should have let him die. You wouldn't be in trouble then."

"It was already too late."

Jo raised her head, then her eyebrow, but she remained blessedly silent on that subject at least. "You love Rock Creek. You saved it. How could you leave?"

Mary peered out the window at the town she had given everything for. "You know, it's just a town without Reese."

"You still love him? After this?"

Mary rested her hand on her stomach. "I love him more because of this. If a baby is all I ever have of him, it'll have to be enough."

"This baby might ruin your life."

"No, this baby will make my life worth living. I've been moping around, unable to figure out why this town was empty, why my home wasn't a home." She turned and grinned at Jo, who stared at her as if she'd gone insane right before her very eyes. "I never had a home, so I didn't understand that me all alone in a house didn't make one. A house without love and family is just a house."

Mary was getting excited now; the truth always did that for her. "I thought the worst thing that could happen to me would be to lose this job or have to leave this town. But the worst thing just might be the best thing that ever happened in my life."

"Mary, you've gone crazy."

"I know. Isn't it great?"

Chapter 19

Reese rode into Rock Creek bright and early on the Sunday morning before Christmas. It had taken him longer than he wanted to get back; since he'd left all his money with Mary he'd had to take a few jobs along the way to make ends meet.

He'd ridden hard the past few days, anxious to return to the place he now thought of as home. Wherever Mary laid her head had become home. He only hoped she'd agree.

Reese still thought she deserved better than him, but he'd finally come to understand that he deserved a few good things too. Mary was the best thing of all. He'd spend his life giving her the world, or at least all that he could give.

If she didn't spit in his eye for leaving in the first place.

The streets were deserted, though Reese could hear singing from the church. Mary would be in that church. He'd just wait outside and surprise her.

Reese led Atlanta to the stable, pleased to discover the place had been taken over by a new family in Rock Creek. Oddly enough, when the young boy who stabled Reese's horse heard his name, he ran toward the hotel. Reese shrugged and headed toward the church.

Unfortunately, the singing had stopped, and Clancy's voice echoed in the street. "And in this season, when the Virgin gave birth to hope, we remember again the Jezebel in our midst."

"Nice sermon for Christmas."

He glanced through the doorway, gaze searching for Mary, but there were too many people.

"The fruit of her sin is plainly visible to anyone with the eyes to see." The crowd shifted and muttered. "We cannot be intimidated by her friends. We must do what is right for our children."

People craned their necks, trying to catch a glimpse of someone in the front pew. Reese did too. He felt sorry for whoever was getting the brunt of Clancy's sermon.

"Cast her out!" Clancy cried. "Today."

"That's it." Reese stepped inside. "Just who are you talkin' about?"

Everyone turned to stare at him, mouths agape, then pointed at the front pew. Reese walked down the center aisle, intent on removing the poor soul who had earned Clancy's wrath.

He was two pews away when she stood. His feet stopped; so did his heart. He knew that hair, the slope of that neck—blessedly free of a scar from El Diablo—even the shade of her skin. Slowly, she turned, and his eyes moved over her hungrily, then stuck on her enormous middle.

Now he couldn't breathe. How had that happened? Well, he knew how it had happened, but he distinctly remembered her telling him not to worry. Had she known even then? What if he had never come back? How had she planned to manage this?

She met his gaze squarely. Her chin went up when his eyes narrowed, and he was reminded of the first time he'd seen her in Dallas. She managed everything, but she wasn't going to manage his child without him.

"Marry, marry, marry," he snapped.

"Yes?" She asked, her voice as prissy as he'd ever heard it.

"Not Mary. Marry." He glanced at Clancy. "Marry us. Now."

Clancy looked like a fish flopping on the banks of the river; his mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

"I'm not marrying you!" Mary cried.

The crowd grumbled and shuffled as Reese slowly turned toward her. "Oh, yes, you are."

"What is it with you, your men, and marriage?" She threw up her hands. "Rico first, though he refused to be faithful. Then Jed and Sullivan, though their faces were a mite green when they asked. Nate was drunk, but he always is. Cash even showed up this morning."

"My men asked you to marry them?"

Her face softened. "A few of them asked twice. Except for Cash. He offered to keep me—platonically, of course. He seems to have a bad opinion of marriage."

"They're here?"

"Right behind you."

Reese spun and discovered all five men lounging in the doorway, grinning at him. The stable boy appeared to have tattled.

"I told them no, and I'm telling you the same thing. I'm not marrying someone without love."

His heart dropped as he turned to face her. "You don't love me?"

He'd raced across half a country toward the only person who truly loved him, no matter what, or so he'd thought.

"Of course I love you, you idiot. You don't love me."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"You left, and you didn't come back."

"I'm back."

"I am not marrying you because of this child. If I can't be loved for myself, I don't want to be loved at all. A marriage based on a mistake is just another mistake."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Reese felt worse than he ever had before. How many times had he made her cry—this woman who hadn't cried since 1862?

"I can manage." She sniffed.

"Then why are you crying?"

"I never cry."

He inched closer and scooped a tear onto his finger, then held the drop out for her to see. "Of course you don't."

"It's the baby." She dashed the tears away with an annoyed swipe. "We don't need you. I have a plan. I can take care of us both."

"I have no doubt you can. But I need you." He snagged her hand before she could get away. When she tugged to be free, he held on tighter. "I've made mistakes, Mary. A whole peck. But you weren't one of them. You were the only right thing, the only good thing, the only truly beautiful and perfect thing I've ever touched." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he'd gone home for. "I had to go all the way to Georgia for this."

She gazed into his face, her damp eyes as blue as the winter sky. "You went home?"

"You made me think. So did they." He jerked his head at his gang to the rear. "If you can love me despite everything, then why couldn't my family? Maybe
they
were wrong. Maybe they're sorry. Maybe I'm not a murderer."

"Murderer!" Clancy shouted. "I knew it!"

Mary glared at the reverend. "He is not a murderer. No more than any man in that horrible war. And you stay out of this."

Clancy swallowed audibly, an inappropriate reaction. Mary was fierce but not too frightening, although Reese wouldn't tell her that.

He glanced over his shoulder and found Cash with his guns out. Reese his head, and the gambler returned the pistols to their holsters with a showy flick of his wrists.

Mary tugged at Reese's hand. "I was right? Everyone was sorry about what they'd done to you, and they welcomed you home like the prodigal son?"

"Not exactly. My parents were glad to see I wasn't dead. But the town would have preferred I was." And amazingly, that hadn't mattered as much as he'd thought it would. "I let my family know where I'd be, took my grandmother's ring, and rode back here as fast as I could." He held out the ring, praying she would take it.