Bride School: Mary (The Brides of Diamond Springs Ranch 4) (10 page)

The next day, Mary was surprised to find another
rough-looking character at her door in the middle of the day. It was Fontaine.
The woman’s hair was longer and her clothes looked newer, though she still wore
britches and a pair of guns on her hips. The way her eyes darted around, she wondered
if the gunslinger had come looking for Fritz.

“Hello, Fontaine,” she said. “What brings you out
this way?” She couldn’t think of anything west of town unless the woman was
hunting. And most hunting was left to two other women at Diamond Springs.

“Mrs. Carnegie sent me with a message,” she said
as she stepped inside. She walked around and poked her nose in the bedroom as
if she thought someone might be lurking behind the door.

“We’re alone,” Mary assured her, but the woman
kept on snooping. Mary poured them both a drink of water, then sat at the
kitchen table and waited for Fontaine to join her.

“My brother’s aren’t here,” she said.

“Of course they’re not. They’re working for the
tanner, ain’t they?” The woman sat down and took a long drink. Then she smiled.
“Killed any bears today?”

Mary sobered. “My brother sent you.”

“No. He didn’t. I heard it from Billy Fortune. Two
buckets and a stick?” Fontaine snorted. “Thought we taught you better.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to explain,
if that’s why you’ve come.”

The woman sighed and her smile fell away. “Mrs.
Carnegie needs you to come into town tomorrow.”

“Hmn. Wednesday night? She’s short a bride? I
don’t believe it. She’s never short a bride.”

“You know why she’s short?”

Mary tilted her head and waited.

“Because your friend, Alexandra Campbell, who
can’t cook worth a damn, by the way, decided she was ready to be a bride
again—a real bride. Married and everything. Her Highlander finally found out
where she was and came to collect her. So yes, for the first time, Mrs.
Carnegie is short a female.”

Mary was thrilled to hear that at least someone
was going to live happily ever after with the man she’d actually fallen in love
with.

At least one of us…

She pushed the thought of John out of her mind.
She had chores to do and a guest to send on her way. If she was lucky, she
might even keep her eyes dry until the gunslinger was gone. “Give Alexandra my
best, would you?”

“Give it yourself tomorrow night. Along with the
dance, the Scots are throwing a party. The rest of the ranch is invited too.”

“Oh?” Mary felt suddenly clever. “So they
won’t
be short on women, will they?”

Fontaine wasn’t happy with the turn the
conversation had taken. “You ain’t gonna turn down Mrs. Carnegie’s invitation.
I won’t allow it.”

Mary ignored the threat. After all, she knew
Fontaine maybe as well as anyone, and though she’d never say it out loud, her
old friend was mostly bluster.

“I’m respectfully declining,” she said. “You can
word it however you like, but try not to make it sound insulting.”

Fontaine’s mouth dropped open.

Mary turned her attention to pouring more water
into their cups. “I’m home now. I’m comfortable here. I’m…settled.”

“You just want to care for your brothers the rest
of your life? You don’t want a husband? Your own family?”

Oh, she wanted a husband all right, but the one
she wanted was out of her reach in Boston. By the time he ever came around to
Sage River again, he’d have his new bride on his arm—a bride that was no doubt
older than Mary. Her only solace was to imagine the woman as slightly gray at
the temples and wrinkled in the face. And if Mary was careful to stay away from
Sage River as much as possible, she might never find out otherwise, and the
image in her mind could keep on soothing her broken heart.

She pushed that thought away again and tried to
put Fontaine on the defensive. Maybe then, the woman would go away and leave
her be.

“I could say the same to you, you know.” She
narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you want a husband? Don’t you want your own family?”

To her complete surprise, Fontaine glanced at the
bedroom door and blushed. And Mary had the sinking feeling her friend was
thinking about Fritz Radley!

They both grabbed their cups and drank them dry.
Mary had nearly forgotten what they’d been talking about before the
conversation had taken a bad turn.

The Wednesday night dance…

She shrugged her shoulders and kept her attention
strictly inside her empty cup. “Maybe if Pretty-face Hermann was going to be
there…”

Fontaine sat forward and knocked on the table. “Lots
of pretty men this week, Mary.” She was still red as beet juice. “You should
come and see.”

They both seemed to realize there was nothing left
to discuss and walked outside.

“I’m sorry,” Mary said as her old friend climbed
into the saddle. “I’m settled. I’m not interested in marrying some stranger,
handsome or not.

Fontaine’s brow furrowed. “I’ll send a dress
tomorrow, just in case you change your mind.”

She shook her head. “Wasted trip.”

As Fontaine headed for the road, it dawned on Mary
how much she missed the company of other women. But the hustle and bustle of
city life—and ranch life—was behind her. Today, she’d be glad for sand and
pebbles that would keep her shoes and floors a little cleaner.

She tucked her gun into her pocket, picked up a bucket
and collected the shovel.

She was also grateful for a new store of bear fat.
And that a certain black bear wouldn’t come pushing his way into her smokehouse
anymore. And thanks to the way the critter had marked up the door, she
suspected other bears would consider her place to be that bear’s territory. But
in case none of that worked, she had her gun.

“Thankful for bullets,” she mumbled as she made
her way to the creek. “Thankful for that trip into town...”

A couple of weeks back, she’d gone into Sage River
with a long list of items she needed from the mercantile. She’d been in the
store so long, they’d nearly forgotten about her. And that’s when she’d
overheard Mrs. Anderson whispering to another woman how exciting it was that
young John Hermann was finally taking a bride.

Yes, she’d been grateful for that trip, grateful
for the warning. And now she would never need to worry about running into John
and making a fool of herself.

The last two weeks had been heartbreaking for Mary.
Every time she thought of John, she saw a woman on his arm. Even the image of a
younger Rebel had a woman’s face looming in the background. Not even her
memories were safe anymore. So maybe it was time to put those memories behind
her.

The dress was delivered the next morning—the pink
dress from the night she’d played Cinderella—and it was brought by none other
than Mrs. Carnegie herself.

By the way Puuku watched the woods with her rifle
at the ready, Mary suspected that William Fortune had stayed in town long
enough to spread his tale far and wide. She was just grateful he hadn’t stopped
back by her place on his way out of town to try and entice her into sharing his
wild mountain life.

It wasn’t that she was tempted—although Billy had
all his teeth and seemed civilized enough to marry a mountain girl. It was the
temptation to tease Fritz she found hard to resist. And it wasn’t wise to tease
the man who allowed her the large bedroom.

And if Fritz decides to marry?

She shook the idea from her head and refused to
borrow trouble from tomorrow. There was enough trouble for the day arriving at
her door.

Puuku stayed in the wagon. Mrs. Carnegie—in
britches— climbed down and pulled the dress from the back. Mary was grateful
once again she’d put down sand and rocks so the lovely gown didn’t drag in the
mud. But seeing that shade of pink again was like a punch in the stomach that
nearly had Mary bending over to ease the pain of it.

She forced her shoulders back and lifted her chin
in the air. “Didn’t Fontaine tell you? I’m not interested in going to the
dance, Mrs. Carnegie. I’m not interested in marrying or socializing.”

“Nonsense,” the woman snapped. “I taught you
better than that. Your friend is newly married and has invited you to a party
to celebrate her joy. The least you can do is put on a pretty dress and go
smile for her.”

“I don’t want anything to do with city life—”

“I don’t care what you want, Mary. Alexandra was
an important part of the ranch since you left, and I want to see her happy.
That means you’re coming.”

Mary shook her head. “With all due respect, Ma’am—”

“Do you  have twenty-five dollars hidden in some
grease can in that cabin?”

“Twenty-five dollars?”

The woman nodded once, her face stone cold sober. “Twenty-five
dollars.”

“Well, I…”

“You don’t. So it’s settled. You’re coming.”

Mary shook her head again.

Mrs. Carnegie closed her eyes for a moment like
she might have been praying for patience. “Do you want your father going to
jail?”

Mary continued shaking her head, only a bit more
emphatically.

The woman nodded and smiled. “I’ll have your
brother bring a carriage home with him tonight. And I’ll see you at the party.
Seven o’clock sharp.” Mrs. Carnegie dropped a carpet bag at her feet, then
draped the dress over Mary’s shoulder before climbing back into the wagon and
taking up the leads.

Puuku dragged her attention away from the trees
long enough to give her a nod, but Mary suspected the gesture had less to do
with courtesy and more to do with the fact that Mary had recently bested a
bear.

After the sight and sound of the wagon had faded
in the distance, Mary took her gun, yoke, and buckets down to the creek.

Apparently, she was going to need a bath…

~ ~ ~

It had been a while since she’d gotten gussied up,
so Mary felt a little clumsy while styling her hair. In the end, she had to
settle for putting up the sides and leaving the back down. Though her head was
covered in curls, there was no trace of Alexandra Campbell in her mirror that
night. In the end, she decided not to wear the little hat because she wouldn’t
be hiding from anyone this time.

Fritz insisted on driving her in. They argued. She
didn’t want any witnesses while she worked up the nerve to attend the party,
but then she suspected her brother was more anxious for a glimpse of Fontaine
than he was for her welfare. By the time they lit out for Sage River, it was
Mary watching Fritz fidget and fuss. And though his nervous state kept her mind
off her own distress, it also made her realize that her days taking care of her
brothers were probably numbered.

Apparently, the eldest son of Jeb Radley was
human. Who would have guessed it?

Buildings came into view long before Mary spotted
the well. Even more houses had been erected since her visit two weeks before.
The tanner’s two-storied house had been painted yellow and white gingerbreading
had been added. It looked like the king of the hill with Snowy Range looming
behind it like a mantle. Candlelight glowed in the upper windows—warm eyes
shining down on the progress of man.

She nudged Fritz and pointed. “Are those window
boxes?”

Her brother nodded but turned his attention back
to the road. His teeth kept on worrying his poor bottom lip. He’d be lucky if
he didn’t draw blood by the time they reached the assembly hall.

 Heaven help her. Where would she finally land? What
future was left to her?

Fritz pulled up in front of the hall and hurried
around to hand her down. Fontaine stepped out of the shadows on the east side
of the building and pushed up the brim of her hat.

“Glad I didn’t have to come after ya,” she said
with a grin, but she was looking at Fritz. “Mr. Radley.”

“Fontaine.” Her brother whipped his hat off and
offered Mary his arm. She rolled her eyes, but took it and allowed him to lead
her inside the door.

“Good evening, Mary,” said Mrs. Carnegie. “Fritz?
Why don’t you get a drink and join us?”

Mary schooled her expression but she didn’t know
how she felt about her brother being surrounded by so many marriage-minded
women. What if he took a liking to someone and hurt Fontaine’s feelings?

“Don’t worry about your brother,” her former boss
murmured. “He won’t embarrass you.”

Mary shook her head. “I never thought he would.”

The woman excused herself and pointed Mary in
Alexandra’s direction. Before she got half way across the floor, the bride
hurried to meet her.

“Oh, Mary! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Mary nodded and embraced her happy friend. “Congratulations.”

Alexandra turned and pointed to a big man shaking
hands with a mob of men by the refreshment table. “There he is. My Connell. If
it weren’t for Mr. Hermann, he would never have found me. Can you believe it?
Our fathers told him I was dead! Just what in the world did they expect to
happen if I came home for a visit, I wonder?”

“What was that about Mr. Hermann? Did the tanner
have something to do with this?”

Alexandra’s brows came together. “The tanner? No.
His son, John. If it wasn’t for John…” She looked around and shook her head. “Never
mind that. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

Mary’s stomach plummeted. Was John Hermann in Sage
River? So soon? And if he was in town, surely he’d be attending the party if
he’d had something to do with the bride and groom finding each other again.

She had to leave!

She spun on her heel and headed back to the door.
If she moved quickly enough, maybe she could get outside before anyone
recognized her. She should have worn the hat!

But no, that wasn’t right. She’d still look
familiar to him in the blasted pink dress!

While keeping her chin lowered, she searched for
her brother. But if she couldn’t find him before she reached the doors, she’d
just have to take the buggy and go home without him. She’d done what she’d come
to do—share a bit of joy with the bride. The hall had three times the people
that usually attended the dances, so Alexandra would never know if she’d gone
or if she was simply lost in the crowd.

No sign of Fritz.

She took a deep breath and reached for the door,
confident she would be able to run by the time she exhaled again. But a hand on
her elbow stopped her.

“Mary, don’t go.” Fritz stood behind her with a
cup of punch in his other hand. “Dance with your old brother, would you?”

She shook her head and tried to smile. “You don’t
know how. If you take me home, I promise to teach you.” His hand kept her from
turning back to the doors.

“I think it’s time we stopped teasing her,” Fritz
said in a strong, clear voice. The music stopped, as did the dancing. “This
party is for you, Mary. It’s all for you.” He stepped back and gestured to the
crowd that was now facing her with smiles on their faces.

“I don’t understand. Is this about the bear?”

Fritz laughed. “No.” He looked over her shoulder
and nodded. Mary followed his gaze and found John Hermann standing at her
shoulder.

“Hello, Mary.”

Her head started shaking of its own accord and she
took a step back and closed her eyes before she had a chance to see his bride.
In her mind, she really needed the woman to be old and wrinkled.

“What’s the matter?”

She sighed and opened her eyes. With so many faces
looking on, she could hardly act like a petulant child. “Nothing’s wrong,” she
said quietly. “How are you, Mr. Hermann?”

He tisked. “Now, now. First names after second
dances, remember?”

She nodded. “But now that you’re married…”

His eyes widened. “I’m not married, Mary.”

“Mary? You called me Mary!” He had! “I was going
to tell you, but you left town early—”

“Yes. I regret that more than you know.” He
frowned toward the wall where Fontaine stood hiding her face behind the brim of
her hat.

“I’m Mary Radley,” she said, just to be certain he
knew the whole of it.

“I know. I’ve been in town for three days and it’s
taken an army of men to keep me from riding out to fetch you. When I heard
about the bear…” He swallowed with difficulty, then seemed to realize a hundred
ears were listening to every word, so he took her by the elbow and led her to a
bench. “I’m afraid my knees are about to give out on me.”

They sat. People pretended to give them privacy.

“It’s because you’re so old,” she teased.

He laughed lightly. “Yes, well. Maybe the floor
will help that.” On one of those old knees, he knelt on the hard wood in front
of her and the crowd stilled again. “Mary Radley…
My
Mary… Would you do
me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She would have pinched herself, but if it was a
dream, she didn’t want to know it. In fact, she very much wanted to hear him
say those magical words again.

She smiled tentatively. “I beg your pardon?”

Someone laughed and was shushed.

“Mary,” he began again, then leaned closer until
she could almost believe no one else was in the room. Their foreheads were only
an inch apart. His deep voice lowered to just above a whisper. “I’ve loved you
since you were ten years old.
Ten
,” he sighed. “I’ve waited nearly eight
years for you. Will you marry me?”

“I’d love nothing more, but…”

“But?”

“But at Diamond Springs Ranch, we have a specific
way of doing things.” She looked to her right and exchanged a mischievous look
with Mrs. Carnegie. “First, we dance—”

“We’ve danced, Mary. In December. Though I’m happy
to dance with you again now.”

The musicians started up again and the crowd moved
away from them, finally allowing them a little room to talk.

“No thank you. I don’t think I could dance right
now.” Then she sighed dramatically. “But then there is the Thursday afternoon
Tea…”

John looked at Fritz who was hovering nearby. “Don’t
just stand there. Find her a cup of tea.” His attention returned. “And while
you drink this tea, a man is allowed to propose?”

She nodded.

He leaned close again. “If you think you need to
wait until Saturday to be married, I understand.” His eyes dropped to the
floor. “But I happen to know the parson is waiting in the chapel just in case
he’s needed…tonight.”

Her heartbeat became a slow, booming cadence in
her chest. If she wasn’t mistaken, it felt like the rhythm of a wedding march.
But then the truth of the situation set in.

“Are you certain you want me?” she whispered. “That
is to say, I’m not the ten year old girl you once knew.”

He smiled tenderly and stroked a finger down the
side of her face. “I do know that, yes. For one thing, those freckles are gone.”

“And you used to talk about seeing the world.
Don’t you want to do that?”

“Not without you.” He dragged in a shaky breath
and she realized this wasn’t easy for him. She really shouldn’t keep teasing
him. “We’ve found each other again. Does that mean anything to you?”

Warm, wet tears poured in a trail down her face. “Oh,
yes. The moment I knew you were Rebel, I was overcome. You were telling me the
story of our summer and you were so caught up in the telling that you didn’t
notice. But you did help me to this bench.”

He gifted her with the dearest smile that sent her
heart melting throughout her chest like a wellspring of warm butter. Then he
tapped her on the nose. “I knew I hadn’t mentioned the name Rebel to you. It
plagued me, I tell you. But I convinced myself you’d overheard it from someone
in town, that the tanner’s son had a nickname.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you who I was before.”

“I know. Do you remember Mr. Charleston?”

He went on to tell her how he’d discovered who she
really was, and ended with his adventures in Pennsylvania, running around
looking for a heartbroken Scotsman. “Do you know how many McDonalds there are
in Chester County?”

A large, rather hairy shoulder draped in red plaid
slammed into John’s back. He was lifted and dragged backward before being swung
in a circle by the enthusiastic bridegroom. A very exhausted bride looked on
from the next bench where she gripped the wooden arm as if willing to defend
her right to rest for a bit. She grinned and waved at Mary with her small
bouquet of pines and some precious white roses that had to have come from Mrs.
Hermann’s well-defended hot house. There were so many weddings that took place
in Sage River, Mary was surprised there were any blossoms left.

The music ended and after the cheering faded,
Alexandra stood and cleared her throat dramatically. “Bring me the swords!”

The sheriff came forward with a bundle of plaid.
Two decorative handles stuck out one end while two thin, nasty-looking blades
stuck out the other. He offered the safe ends to the bride with a slight bow.
Before he straightened, he sent Mary a knowing wink. She blushed when she
remembered the last time she’d seen the man—in the hot springs with Mrs.
Carnegie.

Alexandra crossed the swords above her head and
hit them together twice. With toes pointed, she stepped forward with the grace
and drama of a ballerina in a music box. When she reached the center of the
dance floor, she placed the crossed swords on the ground.

“The Dance of the Swords,” she announced. And
then, just as dramatically, she stepped back away from the weapons until she
was again on the edge of the dance floor.

John stood and drew Mary to her feet. He pulled
her close to his side while they watched and waited for something to happen.

A great cry and squawk brought Mary’s hands to her
ears and a bagpiper separated himself from the musicians. He tucked his plaid
bag beneath one elbow and the noise tripled. In the confines of the assembly
hall, there was simply not enough room in the air for amount of clamor coming
from his bagpipes. And it seemed the bride and groom were just about the only
ones who were willing to risk their hearing.

Instead of Alexandra dancing, however, it was her
bridegroom who stepped up to the swords. With one hand held high over his
shoulder and the other on one hip, he started hopping and pointing his toes to
the painful tune. A few minutes later, Mary was able to let her hands drop away
from her ears and John immediately scooped one up and held it.

They exchanged a smile before watching the
remainder of the dance. By the time Connell McDonald was finished and the last
of the air had leaked from the bagpipes, the big Scot was finally out of wind.
The rest of the company sighed in relief and someone stepped up to the gallantly
dressed man to offer him a tall drink.

“If there was ever a contest of stamina,” a man
said to John, “I’d say the Scot would win.”

John laughed, but quickly brought his attention
back to Mary. “They look terribly happy.”

Mary nodded. “I’m afraid that kind of happiness
would take more than a couple of days to kindle.” She looked around the room at
all the men and women pairing up for the next dance. Some of them would be
married in a few days. How many of them would be happy with each other?

“Mary…”

“Yes?”

He turned her to face him, then he studied her
cheeks, her nose. “I would very much like to know how this story of ours ends.”

She swallowed hard. “I just hate to be greedy.”

His eyes lit. “Be greedy, Mary. I beg you.”

“All right. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. And I don’t
need to wait until Saturday.”

John scooped her up and swung her in a circle
twice before setting her back on her feet, but she would have felt dizzy and
faint even if he hadn’t. It was simply too wonderful to be true! Alexandra and
Connell weren’t the only couple to have found their true love again.

“Fontaine!” John shouted. “Is it here?” He grinned
down into Mary’s face. “Wait until you see the gift I brought you from Boston.”

“Gift?” She laughed. “I’m afraid we’ve got the
same problem we had seven years ago.”

He sobered. “Problem? What’s that?”

“I have nothing to give you in return.”

They smiled in unison.

“Ah, that’s all right, Mary. I’m sure a kiss will
do just fine.” It was the same response he’d given her on the mountain. “But
this time, I don’t think Fritz will mind.”

Her brother’s attention was trained on Fontaine
who had come back inside to give John a nod. The other couples flooded out
ahead of them, then her bridegroom led her outside. The sun was down but it was
still light. A fancy white carriage with a matched pair of pale horses stood in
Street. But what made it truly beautiful were the dozens of tiny pink roses
fixed along the back.

“There are more at our house,” he said. “They’re
all started from that poor little rose bush in the ruins. When I went back up
the mountain the following summer, it was still hanging on. My mother cared for
them in her hot house. And when winter hits, you can put them inside.”

“
Our
house?”

He smiled into her eyes. “Maybe you’ve seen it. The
yellow house on the hill?”