Sunset Embrace (14 page)

"I'm sorry, Ross," Grayson said, spreading his hands wide, imploringly. "Left to me, I wouldn't care. But there are the children to consider and . . ."He lifted his arms uselessly as his voice trailed off.

"Forget it," Ross snapped. "I don't want to stay where I'm not wanted. Now if you will all get out—"

"Hold on there just one galdern minute," Ma said. "This here has gone far enough." She turned to Ross. "You're wanted on this train. Who else knows as much about doctorin' the horses?" She addressed Grayson. "And who's a better shot? Who always brings back fresh meat? Huh? You gonna git rid of a man for comin' in outa the rain? Myself, I'd have thought him a fool if he hadn't."

"Really, Mr. Grayson—" Leona interrupted.

"Quiet, woman," Zeke snapped. It was the first time they had heard the easygoing man admonish anyone. Surprise more than anything else rendered Mrs. Watkins speechless.

"Now as to these two young people doin' anythin' shameful, use your God-given common sense. She had a baby not two weeks ago. You think she's in any shape to be bedded?"

Lydia's face went fiery as all eyes speculatively turned on her. She looked at Ross. He was standing as stoic and taut as an Indian, seemingly impervious to what was going on. She turned to Leona and put all the chill she could muster into her eyes. The woman was the first to look away, but she wasn't completely cowed.

"That wouldn't matter to the likes of
her
!" she exclaimed.

"Pain's pain to any woman," Ma said. She crossed her arms over her massive bosom and drew a deep breath. "There's only one practical answer to this problem. Mr, Coleman and Lydia could get married."

Pandemonium broke out from every direction.

Ross snarled, "Like hell I'll marry her."

Lydia gasped, "I don't want to marry anybody."

Grayson said, "Ma, you've gone too far."

Zeke cackled with delight.

Mrs. Watkins chanted, "Lord, Lord. His sainted wife not even cold in her grave." Actually she had despised Victoria Coleman for her beauty and graciousness, but was now staunchly ready to take up the cause of the wronged late wife.

"Mr. Grayson, if they was to marry up, would that satisfy you?" Ma asked, dismissing everyone's initial dismay over her suggestion.

Hal Grayson rued the day he had ever accepted the appointment of wagonmaster. He didn't know much about anything except farming. His opinion on planting time was valued, but what did he know about who should marry whom? "I suppose so."

"What about you, you spiteful, mean, ol' busybody?" she demanded of Leona Watkins.

The woman sputtered angrily. Her skin seemed about ready to split open for the rage expanding her insides. "I think it would be a disgrace. No telling what we would all see and hear from this wagon."

"If you're so all-fired hepped up on seem' and hearin' what other people are doin' in their beds, why don't you try doin' some of it in yours?"

"Oh!" Leona covered her breast as though Ma had struck her. After glaring at Grayson, silently expressing her severe disappointment in him, she stepped out of the wagon. "The Langston woman has suggested that the two of them get married," she announced to the others. "I wash my hands of the whole affair and think we all should pray that we as God-fearing Christians be protected against the evils that beset us."

"Mr. Grayson, why don't you excuse us?" Ma said, ignoring the confused babble that had erupted outside. "I want to talk to Lydia and Ross. You, too, Zeke. Git along to the wagon and see that those young'uns don't tear it up. They'll git rambunctious if confined too long."

Zeke and Grayson departed. Baby Lee had wailed through the whole fracas. Now Lydia dropped down onto one of the stools, turned her back on Ross and Ma, and began to nurse him.

Ross was seething as he spoke to her back. "I told you I didn't want to sleep on that goddamn bed, but no, you browbeat me into it. Now look what's happened."

Lydia glowered at him over her shoulder. "Me!" They were keeping their voices soft, punctuating their anger with flashing eyes and seesawing inflections. "Yes, I wanted you to sleep in your bed. You were cold and wet and tired. But who dragged me across the wagon to sleep there too? Answer me that. Who nearly rattled the teeth out of my head, jerking me onto that bedroll?" She turned back to the baby and crooned softly.

Ross slammed one fist into the palm of his other hand. "You've been nothing but a pain in my ass ever since I first saw you."

"Oh, and you've been such a joy to be around, with your bad temper and your mean looks and your insulting words. A real pleasure, Mr. Coleman."

"You should have awakened me this morning when you first started nursing Lee. I would have gotten up then and this whole damn thing would have been avoided."

She looked at him again, aghast. "You
did
wake up! It's not my fault if you snuggled and went back to sleep."

"I didn't snuggle," he ground out between his teeth.

"No? Well, you nearly scared the life out of me when you woke up. You jumped up like a scalded panther when you heard Mr. Grayson. You were lying so close, Lee and I nearly came with you. As it was, you practically pulled the hair right off my head."

"Well, if you ask me, it could stand some pulling. Like through a brush and comb. If it weren't a wild, tangled—"

Ma's laughter cut him off. He and Lydia looked at her, bewildered, as she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. "You two are already arguing like married folks."

Ross began shoving the buttons of his shirt into their corresponding holes. During one of Mrs. Watkins's harangues, he had pulled on a shirt, but had been distracted from buttoning it. "I like you, Ma, and your whole family. You've been kind to me, and you were nice to Victoria before she died, but this is one time I'm going to ask you to butt out of my business."

"All right," she surprised him by saying. "But first I'm gonna have my say and no one's leaving this wagon until I do."

She planted both booted feet inside the opening and Ross didn't think he could move her with dynamite. He couldn't travel far today anyway with the mud and rain, so there was no advantage to getting an early start. He plopped down on the other stool and dropped his head in his hands.

When Lydia glanced at him over her shoulder, she was struck by his pose. That was exactly as she had first seen him, as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Now, listen to me," Ma said to him, "are you going to let that wicked-hearted old witch Leona Watkins drive you away?"

"No," Ross replied tersely. "She has nothing to do with my decision. I should have left the train after
Victoria
died. I can make it to Texas on my own and probably move a lot faster."

"With Lee?"

"I'll manage."

"And probably kill the baby in the process. Unless you're plannin' to take Lydia with you. And in that case you might just as well stay with the train and have the protection of the group."

"Staying with the train means marrying her. I can't marry her."

"Why?"

"Why?" He came to his feet and began to pace, though he had to stump to do so. "Because she's trash, that's why."

"I'm sick to death of you saying that, Ross Coleman," Lydia said, whirling away from the crib where she had just put a full and sleepy Lee. She faced Ross with both fists grinding into her hips. "You don't know anything about me."

"That's right. Not even your full name,"

"And I don't care to tell you. But I'm not trash," she; said with the ferocity of a lioness. "You've told me nothing about yourself either."

"It's not the same."

"Isn't it? How do we know you haven't got some shameful past you're trying to hide? Maybe you don't belong here with these folks any more than you think I do, no matter who your wife was."

If Ross's darkly tanned skin could pale, it did so then. His eyes ricocheted from her to Ma as though the women were enemies about to attack. His whole body tensed. Rather than give himself away, he snatched at his second argument.

"I had a wife," he said to Ma. "Victoria Gentry was my wife, my
only
wife. I loved her. She died not two weeks ago. How can you even suggest that I betray her memory by taking another woman?"

"You'll do no 'taking' with me. I'd kill you first," Lydia spat.

"There, you see?" Ma jumped into the thick of the argument. "There's one problem solved. Ross, you don't want another woman, and Lydia don't want another man. You can live and work together for conveniences sake. She can take care of Lee. You can provide for her. 'Pears to me, it's a simple solution to the problem. The weddin' would only be to settle down them so-called God-fearin' Christians out there anyway," she said, jerking her head backward. "We'll know it don't mean nothin' much. Way I see it, things would go on 'bout the way they been goin'."

Ross gnawed the corner of his moustache as he cast deprecating looks first at Ma, then at Lydia. He yanked his hat down from its peg and clamped it on his head. "I've got to see to my horses." He stamped out of the wagon.

"I'm not going to marry him," Lydia said quietly. She knew the misery that could come of marriage. Her mother had lived through years of servitude and degradation until she'd finally died of the shame and humiliation of it all. Lydia wanted no part of it. "I'm not going to marry anybody."

"Was it as bad as that, girl?"

"What?"

"Gettin' that baby of yours. Was it bad enough to taint your opinion of menfolks in general?"

Lydia stared at Ma for silent seconds before directing her eyes to the outside. Ross should have taken his slicker. It had begun to rain again.

"Yes," she said in a faint whisper. "It was bad." She shivered with repugnance at the memories that crowded her mind, memories that she had sworn never to recall if she could help it.

Ma sighed. "I was afraid it was somethin' like that. But it don't have to be that way, Lydia. Mr. Coleman is—"

"A man. A man who doesn't want me any more than I want him."

"That's debatable," Ma said under her breath. Out loud she said, "But you need each other. Could you stand to let Lee go now?"

Tears blurred Lydia's eyes as she looked toward the makeshift cradle. In a few weeks she would have to find another box to put him in or he would be kicking the sides away. But would she even be with him in a few weeks? Mr. Coleman was a gentle and loving father, but would he see the little things that had to be done to care for the infant? He didn't have the maternal instincts she had.

Ma could see that her persuasion was working, so she pressed on. "What are you going to do if they evict you? I don't even think they would let you stay with us any longer. Not with my two impressionable boys around,"

That stung the girl's pride just as Ma had intended it to. Lydia's head came up defiantly. "I can take care of myself."

"Well, you weren't doin' too good a job at it when my boys found you nearly dead from exhaustion and exposure and loss of blood. Your clothes were shreddin' off your back. You had no money any of us could locate. No food. These times, it's hard for a woman to make it on her own." Ma eyed the girl keenly. "'Specially if she's runnin' from someone."

Caution sprang into Lydia's eyes, revealing her fear. Ma saw it and knew she had guessed correctly. "Nobody would be lookin' for a young wife with a baby, now would they?" She turned on her way out, but paused with one last point to make. The girl was sitting on the low stool, staring into space, deep in thought. "You could do a lot worse. I spect Mr. Coleman has got a temper mean as Satan's, but he's learned to control it. I don't think he'd ever hurt you like that other man done. Think on it." With that she left.

A lot of what Ma had said made sense to Lydia. By marrying Mr. Coleman she could stay with Lee. She loved the child, and thought he was coming to love her, or at least recognize her. All she had to do was speak to him and his wobbly little head would turn toward her voice.

Mr. Coleman wasn't an evil man, not like the men she had lived with for twelve years. He was a bit high-strung and temperamental and proud, but she agreed with Ma. He might get angry at her, but he would never beat her. He had had ample opportunity and, if he hadn't already, he wasn't going to.

His face was nice to look at. When he smiled, she felt a warm glow spread over her. He had lain close to her all night, but she hadn't been afraid of him. His body didn't repulse her. Indeed, she thought it a very nice body and had felt protected by its size and obvious strength. Physically, she could tolerate having him around her.

If she were Mrs. Coleman, she would have things she had never had before. She would have a title, a position in the world, a place where she belonged. The title carried with it a certain respect that she wasn't likely to get anywhere else, especially as a woman alone without family or background.

She wanted a home. Maybe with curtains in the windows. Several rooms that were light and airy. A home. How could she, a woman without a man, without money, without any means of support, ever have that?

But she wasn't going to beg. If he was dead set against it, so be it. She wasn't going to start out a marriage by asking him for anything.

* * *

Ross held the bucket of oats under the mare's muzzle, wishing she didn't have such fastidious table manners and would hurry up and finish it.

What a helluva of mess. But then it went along with the rest of his life. The only good thing that had ever happened to him was Victoria. The gods must have been napping the day he met her. And when they woke up and discovered him happy, they had killed her.

"Shit," he said aloud.

What was he going to do with the girl? Or, more to the point, what was he going to do without her? Everything Ma had said had been accurate. He wasn't afraid to strike out on his own, leaving the wagon and everything else behind. He had lived out of a saddlebag since he was about fifteen. Fourteen? He didn't remember. But what of Lee? He needed Lydia to take care of the baby.

He rebuked himself for thinking of her by name and took the bucket of oats from the mare. If she were that particular, she couldn't be very hungry. He patted her neck and moved to the other side of the temporary corral to the stallion.