Never Marry a Cowboy (4 page)

“Are you trying to convince me that I should be grateful you thought David's idea was as ludicrous as I did?” she asked.

He met and held her gaze. “I'm attempting to convince myself.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her gaze to the small amount of food on her plate.

Bloody hell! What did he think he was doing? The last thing he needed to do was flirt with her, charm her, or give her cause for hope. He jerked his gaze to David, not surprised to see the man's eyes narrowed. “When do you leave?” Kit asked.

“There's a stagecoach coming through tomorrow afternoon. Since my plans fell through here, I'll make arrangements today for us to take it.”

“David, will you stop these uncalled for subtle rebukes? They grow wearisome,” Ashton chastised, her gaze never wavering from her food.

Kit scraped his chair across the floor and stood. She lifted her gaze then, so fragile and incredibly innocent. She had yet to learn the ugliness of death. He had no desire to be near when life taught her that lesson. “I wish you both a safe journey.”

She gave him a charitable smile. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Montgomery.”

“The pleasure was mine, Miss Robertson.” He turned to leave, stopped, and knew he would regret the words even before he spoke them. “Miss Robertson, you mentioned earlier that you had a desire to see this part of the state. Will you honor me with the privilege of escorting you through the area this afternoon?”

“You're too kind, Mr. Montgomery,” she said softly.

“Hardly. But for one afternoon, I can pretend.”

 

Kit. Kit. Kit.
In her mind, Christian Montgomery was and would always be Kit. But the years since she'd first met him had created a chasm and a formality between them that caused her to now address him as “Mr. Montgomery” when she hadn't before.

She twirled around the room. Christian Montgomery had asked her on an outing. How many times over the years had she dreamed of him returning to Dallas because he'd been unable to forget her…?

She came to an abrupt standstill. He had forgotten her. So easily. That knowledge had hurt but not nearly as much as knowing that he had refused David's offer of Ashton's hand for marriage. She didn't hold his decision against him. After all, he was strikingly handsome and cultured. Ashton had not been the only woman to admire him in Dallas.

With a sigh, she cautiously approached the cheval glass. At twenty-six, Ashton thought she should know how to dress for an afternoon outing with a gentleman. She'd certainly read an abundance of books, living through the written word a life that she had thought her poor health would forever keep her from experiencing. She'd been a sickly child, tutored at home, and sheltered from people who might bring disease into the house.

In the end, influenza had taken her parents when they'd feared it would take her. The only comfort she'd found in knowing her
own
death was near had resided in the knowledge that she would be with them again.

She shook away the melancholy thoughts. She was
going on an outing. She'd napped, bathed, and put on a white summer dress and a straw hat with daisies lining the brim. Critically she gazed at her reflection. White made her look like a ghost. She wished she had something a bit more flamboyant.

The unexpected knock on the door nearly had her leaping into the mirror. Taking a shallow breath, hoping to prevent a coughing seizure, she tucked one errant strand of hair beneath her hat and strolled across the room. She opened the door and smiled at David. With his dark hair and eyes, he hardly seemed related to her. Until she'd met Christian Montgomery, she hadn't realized men more handsome than her brother existed.

“He's here,” David said.

Like a silly schoolgirl, she pressed her hand over her fluttering heart and tried to sound as though this moment wasn't the most exciting of her life. “Where all do you suppose he'll take us?”

David crooked his elbow, and she slipped her arm through his, drawing her shawl closely with the other hand, resenting the chill that never seemed to leave her.

“I doubt he'll take us far. I've already explained to him that you tire easily, and he's not to keep us out long.”

Her heart stopped its fluttering, and the moment took on the gravity of reality. She could do none of the things she wanted: shout with joy, skip through flowered fields, and stay out until midnight.

But she held her silence because she would gain nothing by hurting David and condemning his good
intentions. As her older brother, he would sway her with common sense.

Arriving in the foyer, she saw Kit, and what little breath she had nearly left her. This morning he had been dressed is a brown jacket, plain shirt, and trousers similar to those her brother often wore.

Now he wore dove gray trousers, a black jacket, a pristine white shirt, and a cravat. Tilting his head slightly, he smiled at her the way she'd often imagined a beau smiled at the woman he intended to woo into his bed.

“Miss Robertson.” He offered her a solitary white rose.

She stepped away from David and accepted the flower, bringing it to her nose, and inhaling the delicate fragrance. He had whittled away the thorns. A bouquet could not have pleased her more. She peered up at him. “How lovely. Thank you.”

He crooked his arm. “Shall we see what other secrets today's moments hold?”

The heat suffused her face. “You tease me, sir.”

His smile deepened. “It is the rake in me. I cannot always control the impulse to be a bit devilish.”

She slipped her arm through his. Such sturdiness. Confidence emanated from him. She knew he was accustomed to having his way, especially with the ladies.

They strolled outside, and the day suddenly seemed warmer. Perhaps she would be able to dispense with her shawl after all. She despised feeling like an ancient woman.

“The carriage will only hold two,” David said, his
footsteps echoing behind her. “Am I to take the extra horse?”

She glanced at the waiting carriage. Two dappled gray horses were hitched to the front of the buggy. A large black beast was tethered behind it.

Kit stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder. “My invitation was for your sister only. I brought the gelding because I'll have need of him later.”

Her heart patted against her ribs. She looked back to see that David had narrowed his eyes.

“You don't truly expect me to allow you to take her without a chaperone?”

Kit raised a brow. “You expected me to marry her.”

“But I never envisioned the two of you being alone. Besides, as I explained, you were only to partake in the ceremony—”

“But not in the pleasures of marriage.”

“Kit.” David's voice carried a warning tone she'd never before heard. “If you take any liberties with her, I'll kill you.”

“I told you last night that I have a policy of not trifling with the sisters of friends. She will be safe in my company.”

Ashton didn't know why it hurt to
know
she would be safe. She had hoped, however unrealistically, that there was a slight chance Christian Montgomery might find her as attractive as she found him. An absurd thought, considering her gaunt features and sickly pallor. Of course she had no need of a chaperone. She imagined the man could have any woman he wanted, which made her briefly wonder why he didn't.

Pity had no doubt inspired Kit to offer to spend the afternoon in her company. A sobering realization. Still she could enjoy his presence and strive to keep the conversation away from morose thoughts.

She smiled brightly, falsely. “He's right, David. We're only going for a short ride. What sort of mischief can we get into?”

Almost reluctantly, David took a step back. “I don't want to see her hurt.”

“If I wanted to harm her, I would have agreed to your insane notion that we wed. Think it through, man, and you'll see that I'm right. Now, if you'll excuse us, I wish to show the lady the sights.”

“An hour,” David said firmly. “She is not to be gone for more than an hour. She needs her rest.”

Ashton clutched Kit's hand as he helped her into the carriage. The buggy rocked as he settled in beside her. He released the brake, lifted the reins, and with a quick flick of his wrist, set the horses into motion.

Clutching the rose he'd given her, she peered over at him. “I'm sorry you've gone to so much trouble for only an hour's outing.”

He smiled at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “A pity that I forgot to bring my watch. Besides, where I plan to escort you will take much longer than an hour.”

“Where are we going?”

“Camelot.”

A
shton had read tales of King Arthur, but none of the stories prepared her for the reality of Camelot.

In every color imaginable, flowers formed a thick carpet across the ground that stretched between trees lining one side and the creek that gurgled on the other. Above, the sky seemed bluer, the white billowy clouds more abundant.

And the people, the laughter, the yelling, the absolute joy…it was almost painful to witness. Hushed tones and frightening whispers had filled her youth. The low voices had always terrorized her because she knew she was not meant to hear the words, and their secrecy could only be a portent of bad tidings.

As Kit brought the buggy to a halt, she watched a boy sitting astride a brown horse, a lance tucked beneath one arm, gallop along a trail lined with poles that held metal rings.

Clunk
as one ring was hit and knocked off its hook.
Clink
as one was swept onto the lance.

Shouts exploded. She saw a woman and a young
girl jump up and down, hugging each other and screaming. With their blond hair and slender figures, they had to be mother and daughter.

A man with golden hair smiled broadly as the cherub sitting on his shoulders clapped. Beside him an older boy with brown hair laughed.

A family. They could be nothing less than a family.

The boy whirled his horse around, his dark hair flopping against his forehead as he trotted the horse along the track with his lance sporting the single ring he'd managed to snag. Grinning from ear to ear, he shoved his spectacles up his nose and lifted the lance. “Uncle Kit, did you see? I got my first one all by my lonesome!”

“Indeed I did see, lad. Splendid job, Micah!” Kit yelled as he climbed out of the buggy. He walked around the horses, came to her side, and held a hand toward her. “I hope you don't mind, but since I needed to practice, I thought you might enjoy the scenery.”

She slipped her hand into his and clambered out. “Practice?”

He smiled warmly. “The first summer we were here, we began a tradition of having a jousting event on the eve before the cotton was to be picked. The only year we didn't compete was the year we herded cattle. It was also the only year the Englishmen lost to the Texans.”

“You don't see yourself as a Texan?”

“God, no, although I fear Harry and Gray are beginning to see themselves as more Texan than British. A true pity.”

“Kit, I didn't hear you arrive,” a man said as he strode toward them, the tiny boy still perched on his shoulders.

“I didn't want to distract the lad from his endeavors.” He reached up and tickled the youngest child. “Colton, when are you going to start competing?”

“He's not yet four. Don't give him ideas,” the man warned.

Kit slipped his arm around her and tucked her against his side. “Miss Robertson, allow me to introduce you to Grayson Rhodes, son to the Duke of Harrington.”

Ashton felt her heart trip. “Am I supposed to curtsy?”

“No,” Grayson Rhodes said with a gracious grin that left no doubt in her mind that he, too, had wooed his fair share of ladies. “Here I am but a farmer.”

The woman sidled up to him and smiled in welcome. “I'm Abbie.”

“Gray's wife,” Kit added.

“I'm very happy to meet you,” Ashton said sincerely. “You have a lovely family.”

“We're proud of them.”

Ashton turned at the whir of carriage wheels. A dark-haired man guided the buggy toward them. A woman with curling red hair held a young child in her arms while a small girl sat between her and the man. She remembered the man and woman from David's party: Harrison Bainbridge and Jessye Kane, although now they were married. Ashton had been too ill to attend their wedding, although David and his family had come.

After bringing the buggy to a halt, Harrison awkwardly got out and, with the aid of a cane, walked around the carriage to help his wife disembark.

“You know, we could get in more practice if you people would get here on time,” Grayson said.

“Bloody hell, Gray,” Harrison snapped. “It's your land. Of course,
you'll
be here promptly.”

Jessye held up a hand. “It was my fault. I was bringin' up my breakfast most of the morning.”

Habit had Ashton shrinking back until she felt the sturdiness of Kit behind her. Her parents had raised her to fear anyone with a sniffle, much less the inability to keep their food in place.

“You shouldn't have come if you're not well,” Abbie told her.

“Oh, I'm not sick,” Jessye said, beaming as she settled one girl on her hip and took the hand of the other. “We got another baby coming. Ought to be here a month or so after yours, Abbie.”

“Are you saying you both have children on the way?” Kit asked.

The women blushed, and their husbands looked as though they might bust the buttons off their shirts. Ashton swallowed hard, trying not to think of all the things she would never experience. “Congratulations to you all,” she offered quietly.

“You look familiar,” Jessye said, “but I can't quite place—”

“She's Ashton Robertson,” Kit said. “David's sister.”

Jessye smiled brightly. “Ah, yes, I remember now. How is Mary Ellen?”

“Growing. As a matter of fact, Madeline gave me a small portrait to give to you,” Ashton told her. David and Madeline had adopted Mary Ellen when she was an infant. She could now see a striking resemblance between Jessye and Mary Ellen, and she couldn't help but wonder if that likeness had any bearing on the closeness that had developed between Madeline and Jessye.

“I'll pick it up on my way to the saloon this evening,” Harrison offered.

“Thank you, Mr. Bainbridge,” Ashton said. “I'll let David know to expect you.”

“We're all friends here, so you must call us Jessye and Harry,” Jessye said.

Ashton felt overwhelmed. Friends had never played a role in her life.

“Actually, I saw David earlier,” Harry said, grinning. “He wanted to know where I thought a rake might take a lady. Seems you were supposed to keep her out for only an hour.”

“An unrealistic expectation. From town, it takes two hours to get to this spot,” Kit explained.

“I don't suppose you mentioned that to him or told him where this spot was.”

“Of course not. And you—”

“Pled ignorance, naturally. I know you well enough to know if your goal is to ruin a lady's reputation—”

“No one's reputation is gonna get tarnished today,” Jessye said as she shifted the daughter on her hip. “You'll answer to me and my loaded pistol, Christian Montgomery, if that's what you've got on your mind.”

“If that were my intent, I certainly would not have brought her here.”

Ashton wondered briefly where he would have taken her. David had thought she'd be without a chaperone, and she had more than she wanted, women and children studying her with watchful eyes.

“It was a longer journey than Miss Robertson anticipated,” he continued. “I think she could use a bit of rest in the shade.”

“I have quilts spread out near the creek,” Abbie said. “Along with plenty of food and lemonade.”

Ashton glanced at Kit. His arm was still around her, and she wondered briefly if she'd be able to walk without his assistance. She was weary. As though reading her mind, he said, “I'll escort you to the quilts, then leave you to the women's tender mercies while I work with the lads.”

 

“I'm surprised David trusted you alone with his sister,” Harry said speculatively. “While he was in England, he must have heard about your reputation for beguiling women.”

Kit tried to keep his attention on young Micah's riding style instead of on the woman sitting on the quilt beneath the branches of a towering oak tree. “My reputation is the very reason he brought her. He wanted someone skilled at charming ladies, someone who could make her feel special, someone willing to marry her before she died. Micah, lean to the right a bit more!”

He felt the silence descending around him, thick and heavy.

“Before she died?” Grayson finally asked. “Has he been to a gypsy fortune teller?”

“A physician. It seems she has consumption. Her time is limited and her one wish is to marry. David thought I would oblige.”

“Surely, you're joking,” Harry said quietly.

“I wish I were, but he remembered me telling him how Clarisse had taken ill and died, and so he thought I would be more compassionate than most, willing to grant Ashton's dying wish of being a bride.”

“That seems a bit much to ask of a friend,” Grayson said.

Kit nodded in agreement. “This day will be the extent of my compassion. A flower, a picnic, a bit of old English charm, and perhaps if I'm feeling generous by evening, a kiss. No more than that.” He sighed deeply. “God knows I have nothing else to give.”

 

Ashton had not meant to fall asleep. She despised the moments lost when she drifted into a shadowy world of dreams. Abbie had been telling her how Grayson, Kit, and Harry had worked her farm, picking cotton, when they had first arrived five years earlier. Ashton had wanted to hear the story, every detail she could glean about Kit, but a heaviness had settled over her and Abbie's gentle voice had lulled her into sleep.

Something soft and velvety tickled her nose. She brushed it away, but it returned more insistent than before. She squinted and was greeted by the sight of silvery blue eyes and a yellow flower.

“I came over here to get something to eat, but I'm
half tempted to nibble on you,” Kit said in a low, seductive voice.

She widened her eyes and pushed herself to a sitting position. He sat beside her, one arm draped over his raised knee, while he feathered the flower over her face with his other hand. She was fully awake now, but her voice still seemed to be asleep.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I have so little appetite of late, although I've never really been a hearty eater.”

“I suspected as much.” He reached across her, grabbed a wicker basket, and dragged it nearer. “Abbie always has something good to eat. Gray got the better end of the deal when he was selected to stay with her, although none of us thought so at the time.”

“What are you talking about?”

He removed a piece of chicken from the basket, tore off a section of meat, and offered it to her. “Eat, and I shall explain.”

Even though she wasn't hungry, she nibbled on his offering, anything to hear the rich timbre of his voice.

“Shortly after the war, we came here to work in the cotton fields. There were seven men altogether, and seven merry widows each agreed to take in one boarder. Abbie got Gray. Harry and I spent one evening looking the area over and decided we wanted to return to Galveston, where our ship from Liverpool had originally docked.” He slipped another piece of chicken into her mouth before shrugging. “But Gray wanted to stay so stay, we did, and soon learned that picking cotton is a harsh undertaking.”

She glanced toward the older boy who was galloping along the track, gathering rings. “So the three older children must be from Abbie's first marriage. How did the jousting get started?”

She wanted to protest that she was full when he teased her lips with another strip of chicken. Instead, she chewed because she could tell from the gleam in his eyes that without her acquiescence, he would not continue the story.

“Have you ever read
Ivanhoe
?”

“Yes—” He slipped another piece of chicken into her open mouth. The rascal. She nodded, his warm smile dousing any anger she might have felt at being manipulated.

“Gray had brought the book with him, and he read to the children every night. They were enthralled with the notion of knights and jousting, and he was enthralled with them, so we made poles, rings, and lances, and taught them what we knew of our ancestors' penchant for games.”

“I think it's—” Another piece of chicken which she spoke around. “Wonderful.” She swallowed and held up a hand. “I really can't eat anymore.”

“Blackberries, then.” He reached behind his back and brought forth a bowl filled with the tiny fruit. “Picked them myself especially for you.”

“It's a good thing we're leaving tomorrow,” she said as she plucked one from the bowl and popped it into her mouth.

“And why is that?”

“I think you could easily break my heart.”

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Breaking hearts is not what I do.”

“Do you deny that you charm women?”

“I don't deny that, but a woman's heart is like delicate hand-blown glass, and I treat it so.”

She plucked another blackberry from the bowl, not wishing to know about all the women's hearts he had handled. “Tell me about Galveston.”

“Have you never been?”

She shook her head. “I was hoping we might make it to the coast, but David is anxious to get back to Dallas. Madeline is expecting a child in the next month or so. So he not only misses her, he's worried.”

“But he left her to bring you here.”

“I could have saved him the trip if he'd told me his plans.” She placed her hand over his. “I'm so sorry he put you in such an awkward position. He never should have asked of you what he did.”

“I'm sorry I could not have obliged him and given you your wish.”

“Uncle Kit, Pa says you need to git yourself over here,” the oldest boy said.

“All right, Johnny, I'll be there in a moment.” He held her gaze. “Actually, I didn't come over here to make you eat, but to gain a favor.”

“What favor?”

“Your hair ribbon.”

She touched the black silk that held her hair in place. What could he possibly want with it?

Then it dawned on her so clearly that she was almost giddy with delight. A joust, knights, a favor
from a damsel. She removed the ribbon and handed it to him. “Sir knight, you honor me.”