Hearts in Defiance (Romance in the Rockies Book 2) (28 page)

Forty-Two

Rebecca wanted to scream as she pounded down the path.
She nearly did when gruff hands grabbed her and spun her around.

Ian.

Ashamed of her emotional reaction, she tried to pull out of his
grasp, looking anywhere but at him. He clutched her tightly to him with one arm
and tilted her chin up. “Ye didnae let me finish.” He wiped a tear away with
his thumb and she settled against him … a little. “I wanted a hundred times to
just come right out and ask how ye felt. Then ye started burning things when I
tried to speak of it and I started wondering if maybe ye thought I was too old.
That I’ve nothing left to offer a wife.”

Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut and twisted her head. Fear had held
them back from so much.

“The fact is ye make me feel like a young man again, full of vim
and vinegar.” He pressed his lips to her forehead as he spoke. “I’m not meself
without ye. I feel … undone. Ye’re the first person I want to see every day …
and I go to bed every night dreaming aboot ye. Aboot life with ye. Aboot …
loving again.”

His words fell on Rebecca like rain on dry ground. She felt her
soul filling back up, running over. He dragged his lips down her forehead and
across her eye, to her nose, to her lips. “If ye’ll have this fat old man, I’d
like to marry ye, my bonny Rebecca.”

Rebecca laughed and threw her arms around him. She kissed him
firmly, giddy with joy but after a moment, she pulled back, shocked at herself.
They hung on each other’s gaze, drinking each other in. Ian kissed her,
possessively, hungrily. Rebecca nearly wept as her senses jolted to life.
Lightning flashed in her veins as she inhaled his scent, felt the stubble of
his beard on her cheek, the heat from his arms as he enfolded her. He kissed
her and kissed her wildly, like a starving man snatching at bread, and she
kissed him the same way. Desperate, crazed, joyous.

“My bonny Rebecca,” he whispered into her throat. “Say ye’ll marry
me this night and wake beside me in the morning.”

“Wh—what?” The touch of his lips against her skin seared her
brain. Thoughts wouldn’t form.

With a groan, he pulled away from her, leaving her feeling lost
and abandoned. Dying for him, she tried to kiss him again, but he clutched her
hands between them. “I have learned this day, Rebecca, that Marshal Beckwith is
a Justice of the Peace.”

“What?” Why did she keep saying that?

“I thought perhaps if we married quietly, it wouldna interfere
with Charles and Naomi. If ye’d like to have the preacher marry us, though, we
could repeat our vows.” Rebecca blinked, trying to take this in, to understand
the ramifications. Ian squeezed her hands tighter. “I’ve thought for many
months now that we’re wasting too much time apart, Rebecca. I want my life with
ye to start right now.”

“But the preacher will be here tomorrow.”

“Aye … Aye.” The second time he said it, Rebecca heard the defeat
in his voice.

“I’m not saying no, Ian.” She backed away from him and rubbed her
forehead. “I just need to think a moment.”

She didn’t feel that she needed a preacher per se to make the
marriage legal. She would, of course, prefer it, but she didn’t want to
interfere with Naomi’s wedding, either. If she and Ian waited, it might be
weeks, possibly months, before the preacher made his way back around to
Defiance. On the other hand, she was trying to finish Naomi’s wedding dress.
She didn’t really have time to be distracted by Ian right now. It felt strange,
too, to make such a decision without her sisters.

Strange, maybe, but not wrong. Ian stood straight and tall, his
hands hanging at his sides, clenching and unclenching as he waited. In the
shadowy light of the rising moon, she could see the hope in his face, feel the
love radiating from him. They’d wasted so much time already.

“I could have married you the day I met you, I think,” she said,
recalling Ian marching into the hotel, his arms full of architectural drawings.

He closed the distance between them and grasped her shoulders.
“Aye, the moment I saw ye, ye took my breath away. Ye are the most beautiful,
most stunning woman I’ve ever met. But ye know it’s more than that?” She
nodded, thrilled with his compliment. He did think she was beautiful, after
all. “I love ye, Rebecca, and I always will. Come and grow old with me.”

She touched his cheek, slid the back of her fingers across his
beard. “The best is yet to be, the last of life for which the first was made.”

Thank You, Father. Thank You.

~~~

Billy stood alone in the middle of the quiet, empty kitchen, lost.
He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed, missing all the bustling
activity that usually went on in here. McIntyre had taken Naomi off for a buggy
ride. Rebecca was dining with Ian. Emilio was off escorting Mollie to Tent Town
for one last talk with Amanda. He admired the girl’s compassion.

And he appreciated that he was alone in the hotel with Hannah.

Aside from the guests, of course. He wanted to knock on her door
and ask if she and Little Billy would like to go for a walk. Although at this
moment, he lacked any gumption to do so. Coming to Defiance felt like a
two-steps-forward, three-steps-back sort of journey.

Why am I here, if I can’t make any headway with her?

The question hadn’t been directed at God, but Billy sensed He was
listening.

The kitchen falling into twilight shadows, he sat down in the
chair at the head of the table and hid in the growing darkness. Still trying to
understand her, he ran that kiss through his head for the thousandth time.
She’d given in for one second. For one fleeting instant, he’d held the old
Hannah in his arms.

Then she had practically growled at him and flown into Emilio’s
arms.

Emilio. In spite of everything, Billy liked him. Emilio was his
own man, confident in himself. A good, decent person, he treated Hannah–and all
the ladies–with a tremendous amount of respect. He’d accused Billy of
not
respecting Hannah and he was right, which is why Billy had punched him. The
truth hurt.

He respected her now, for sure. Hannah had grown into a strong,
beautiful woman, a loving, capable mother, and she managed her duties, both in
the hotel and for Doc, with alacrity and skill. While he’d never thought of her
as dim-witted, Defiance had brought forth amazing maturity and wisdom in her.

So what if Billy bought the mercantile and Hannah never came back
to him? What if she married Emilio? Would he be able to live with watching
Emilio and Little Billy walk down the street together, father and son? Or
Hannah sitting beside Emilio in church, her arm hooked around his? He rubbed
his eyes, trying to erase the images. The whole scenario was a nightmare.

And his soul cried out. “God, please don’t let me lose her,” he
whispered. “Just show me what to do and I’ll do it … anything.”

~~~

Forty-Three

About to push through the café door, Hannah froze
. She’d almost barged in on Billy, but when she realized he was
just sitting there, alone in the dark kitchen, she stopped. She knew a man in
agony when she saw one. Feeling a little guilty, she watched him for a moment,
wishing she could read his mind, discover a clue as to what he was thinking.

Part of her ached for him, part of her wanted to go in there, wrap
him in a tight hug, stroke his dirty-blonde hair, and tell him everything would
be all right. If he would simply trust in the Lord.

The coward in her wanted to back away silently, as if she’d never
seen him there, slouching, with the weight of his world on his shoulders.

But she couldn’t ignore the gently whispered prayer and her heart
broke for him. She made a little warning sound with her boots. Billy started
but didn’t turn around as she entered the kitchen.

“Goodness, what are you doing sitting here in the dark?” She
marched over to the table and plucked a match from the box in the center. She
lit the lamp overhead, but kept it low. Unsure of her next words, she sat down
in the chair closest to him.

He stared down at his hands, splayed out on the table in front of
him. “How long were you standing there?”

She debated the answer and decided to go with the truth. “Long
enough.”

He sighed deeply and leaned back in the chair, dragging his hands
to the edge of the table. “Well, if nothing else, at least you’ve got me
praying.”

Stray hairs had fallen across his eyes and she had to clench her
fist to keep from reaching up and moving them. “That means a lot to me.” Again
she thought of that night in Mr. Tulley’s cabin. Billy had been so patient and
gentle. He hadn’t rushed any part of it and he’d loved her, so slowly and
easily.

She dragged a hand across her mouth, trying to wipe away the
memory of his kiss. How many times had she asked God to forgive her for their
sin? A thousand? And she had asked God to take away her feelings for Billy.

Broken, he turned to her and she realized
that
prayer had
not been answered.

Or was the answer no?

“I was sitting here thinking what I would do if you married
Emilio.” The wounded look sliced clear down to her heart. “It would be hell,
and what I deserve.” He shook his head and shrugged a shoulder. “But I can’t
leave. I can’t leave you and my son.”

“Not even if your Pa demanded you come home or promised you the
whole Page fortune?”

Billy snorted, as if the idea was ludicrous and irrelevant. “Not
even.”

She thought long and hard before she spoke again, trying to sort
things out and say this just right. “I need time, Billy. I think I know in my
heart that you do still love me and that you won’t hurt me again like that.”
She wrangled with the next statement and said it slowly, gently. “But I need to
see the proof. And I don’t know exactly what proof looks like.”

He pondered that for a moment, then straightened up and reached
for her hand. A breath away from her, though, he curled his fingers in and
didn’t touch her. “Fair enough.”

~~~

Her head still reeling from Rebecca’s news, Naomi hung back as her
sister and Ian stepped inside the marshal’s office, followed by Hannah carrying
her son, Mollie, Emilio, and Billy. The thud of their heels on the boardwalk
gone, hers and Charles’ footfalls sounded lonely on the deserted street.

She’d been thinking hard about everything Rebecca had told her,
her reasons for marrying Ian now. The argument that she didn’t want to intrude
on Naomi’s wedding was silly, but the other part, about not wanting to waste
any more time, Naomi couldn’t get that out of her head. Resolute, she stepped
in front of Charles and turned to him, laying her hand on his chest to halt
him. “I have something to say before we witness this wedding.”

His brow arched and his mouth twitched. She knew he was amused.
“I’m listening.” She pulled him out of the street lamp’s circle of light to the
shadowy edge, lightly clutching his lapels. A cold rain drop sprinkled here and
there on them, the storm apparently still uncertain of its timing. Like the
rain, the crickets’ song was hit-and-miss in the chilly air, their voices
reminding her that spring would fade into summer before they knew it. Time was
such a precious commodity.

Perhaps seeing her concern, Charles encircled her waist and asked,
“What is it, Naomi?”

“Why don’t we get married tonight?”

“Is that what you really want?” Her hesitation answered his
question and he smiled at her. “I’m fine waiting for the preacher.”

“That’s just it.” She looked again at that hole in his hat. “Maybe
in Defiance you shouldn’t wait. You almost got shot. Silas did get shot.
Rebecca and Ian knew they were supposed to be together the moment they met.
Maybe we should be living life while we can.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he seemed to ponder her offer for
a moment. He slid his hands around to her ribs as the wheels turned. Finally,
he shook his head. “I’ve been reading, Naomi, and I understand that the Church
is the bride of Christ. That tells me that Jesus sets some stock in the wedding
ritual. He likes a beautiful bride, a pure bride.”

“I’ve been married before, remember.”

“But the wedding is a symbol for a relationship, a deep, abiding
one. It is also an outward symbol … one I want this town to see. So, no, Mrs.
Miller,” she could see the gleam of his teeth and hear the humor in his voice,
“if you’re asking me to marry you tonight, I’d have to reject your proposal.”

“You’re sure?”

“No, I am not,” he answered instantly and they both laughed. “I
realize I could walk into that office and walk out with you as my wife.” He
wrapped her in his arms again, pulling her snuggly up against his chest. “My
conviction on this matter is shaky at best. So be warned. If you insist on this
course, I will be forced to comply. Against my will, you understand.” He leaned
down and kissed her and Naomi’s knees turned to water. “Please insist,” he
whispered huskily, nibbling on her lips.

The jangle of a wagon and the boisterous, inappropriate
conversation of the two male passengers interrupted them. Grudgingly, Naomi and
Charles stepped apart, still holding hands. He stared at her from the shadows,
waiting. She huffed a great sigh. Oh, she didn’t want to say this. “Fine. We’ll
wait.”

“Fine. Besides, I’m not quite ready.”

“You’re
not
ready? Not ready for what?”

The mischievous grin reappeared as he walked by her, pulling her
along. “Just a few more things to be done, don’t worry, I’ll be ready Saturday
night.”

~~~

To Naomi’s amazement, Marshal Beckwith conducted a beautiful,
thoughtful ceremony. He even offered a few inspired words of wisdom. The group
had gathered around him and the couple in the center of the jail. Someone had
hung up a blanket to shield them from a lone prisoner in the last cell.

Naomi was surprised that Ian had exchanged his normal dress of
argyle sweater and trousers for a crisp white shirt and blue dungarees. Rebecca
wore her burgundy dress and held a small bouquet of hastily picked wildflowers.
A lovely couple, indeed, Naomi couldn’t be happier for them.

Their pledges of love finished, Marshal Beckwith tucked the Bible
underneath his arm and startled everyone by plucking two rings from his breast
pocket. His chiseled face softened a bit as he explained that Mr. McIntyre had
a collection of such things in his safe. Naomi didn’t like knowing that miners
had gambled away their wedding rings, but she also knew that the couple now
using these would never take them off. Warmed by the thoughtful gift, Naomi
hugged Charles’ arm and gave him an approving smile. The man thought of
everything.

Beckwith finished the ceremony by solemnly placing Rebecca’s hands
in Ian’s. “May you always share with each other the gift of love and be one in
heart and in mind. Therefore, what God hath joined together, let no man put
asunder. By the power vested in me by the new State of Colorado and Almighty
God, I now pronounce you man and wife.” Beckwith winked at Ian. “You may kiss
your bride.”

~~~

Naomi searched the mountain where Ian’s cabin sat, but couldn’t
see it from the steps of the hotel. Charles came up behind her and wrapped her
in a warm embrace. He smelled of apple-flavored tobacco and something else
manly. His scent, that devilish beard, his dark eyes, sometimes they were
overwhelming. She settled back into him and tried for the millionth time to
understand how he affected her. She could feel so at peace with him and yet so
alive. In his touch, with every caress, every kiss, he brought her a soul-deep
…
finality
. Like a story at its end.

“Ironic, isn’t it,” he said, resting his chin atop her head.

The temperature had started dropping to a more normal feel for a
late spring night in the Rockies. Chilly, she snuggled deeper. “What is?”

“That
you
wanted to get married tonight and
I
said
wait.”

“Oh.” She chuckled. “Are you sorry? After all, it could be us—”
She bit that off, surprised at herself.

“Yes, it could be us enjoying our wedding night.”

They fell silent and Naomi was fairly certain they were both
imagining the same thing. Oh, how she longed to be with Charles like that, but
at the same time, the thought terrified her. “Rebecca has been alone for so
long. I wonder how it will be for them.” She hadn’t really meant to share that
thought, yet Charles seemed to know exactly what she meant.

“I told Ian,” he kissed the top of her head with a slow lingering
caress, “to take it slowly …” He kissed the back of her head the same way and
Naomi’s pulse started pounding like war drums. “That they have all night.” His
lips slid around to her ear and he kissed her there, nibbling on her lobe. She
swallowed, beginning to feel faint. “If he took it slow and easy …” Naomi
tilted her head as he brushed his lips down to her neck. Charles’ voice
softened and filled with the thick, husky sound of desire. “She’d let him know
…”

His hands moved back and forth from her ribs to her stomach. He
kissed her temple. His hot breath fogged her rational mind and she raised a
hand to his neck, twining her fingers through his black curls. His beard gently
grazed her cheek. His lips went back to her neck. Naomi’s heart thundered. “ …
when the timing was right.” She’d completely lost track of what he was saying.
She couldn’t think and she felt like a living spark of electricity. He stopped
kissing her and his hands on her waist stilled. “You have no idea, Naomi, what
it takes to leave you every night.” The passion in his voice, his battle to
control himself, was intoxicating. He moved his hands to her shoulders.
“Especially tonight … when I didn’t have to.”

He sighed and pulled her into his arms. She slid inside his coat
and held him tightly, resting her cheek on the lapel of his satin vest. For a
time, they stood there, holding each other and listening to the rowdy sounds
emanating from Tent Town. When he spoke, the uncertainty she heard tore at her
heart. “My mother was a godly woman and yet she couldn’t turn my father …” He
faded off and his chest rose with a deep breath. “He was a scoundrel of the
worst sort. I want to be a better man than that. I want to be a better father.”

“Oh, Charles,” she squeezed him tighter, knowing he already was a
better man, and would be a better father, if they could conceive. “You will be.”
She closed her eyes and finally shared her deepest fear. “But what if I can’t
give you children?” Her voice broke on the last word and she bit down, trying
to keep tears at bay.

He hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “It has not
escaped my notice that you and John had no children after several years of
marriage. Coupled with the fact that you can’t cook, I don’t know what I’m
doing here.”

She gasped and stepped back from him. The smirk on his face
motivated her to deliver a healthy jab to his ribs. He flinched and she fumed.
“I can’t believe you made a joke about that.”

He touched her cheek and grinned wryly. “Hannah mentioned that she
hopes we have
a passel
, I believe were her words. I assumed from that,
you’re capable.” He pulled her back into his embrace and kissed the top of her
head again. “I look forward to many, many attempts at building a family with
you, Naomi, whatever the outcome.”

~~~