The Reluctant Bride (32 page)

“I told you, I wasn’t sure you’d be safe.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Why did you even stop to wonder if I’d be safe?”

“That’s a strange question.”

“Why?”

“I’d wonder if any woman would be safe.”

“You told me western men are very respectful of a good woman.”

“Stocker would do anything he could to get back at me.”

“Why bother about me? I’m just a cook and housekeeper. You can hire another one any time you want.”

“I don’t want another one. The boys don’t, either,” he added after a pause. He kept his gaze forward, never turning to look at her.

“What’s so special about me?”

He didn’t answer.

“Lots of women can cook and clean. Men, too.”

“I don’t want another man at the ranch. Except for Welt, we’re all ex-cons. An outsider might think he was better just because he’d never been in prison.”

“Nobody has a problem with Tardy.”

He didn’t turn to her, but she could see a slow smile transform his face. It was at times like this that she found it hard not to want to see that smile for the rest of her life.

“I think all of us see the best of ourselves in Tardy. We know where we went wrong and want to make sure it doesn’t happen to him.” Russ’s smile turned almost sentimental. “He’s like a big puppy, full of energy and willing to worship anybody who’ll give him five minutes of attention.”

“Did anybody ever give you five minutes of attention?”

The abrupt change in him made her regret asking that question. They rode for several minutes, Russ looking straight ahead again but his face working against some strong emotion.

“My father abandoned my mother before I was born. The man everybody calls my father didn’t care what I did as long as I stayed away from him. My mother didn’t really love either of her children. I pretty much grew up on my own.”

They’d wandered far from her question, the one to which she still wanted an answer. “Do you think I’m like Tardy, a puppy needing saving?” she asked.

He turned then, and she could have sworn she saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“I expect you’ve excited a good many emotions in men, but I’m sure none of them ever thought of you as a puppy.”

“But maybe I needed saving.”

“Protection.”

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“You don’t know the West. Even most men can’t take care of themselves.”

“Now just why do you care?”

“Because I like you, dammit. I’ve told you before. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Did anybody ever tell you you were an unnatural, incomprehensible, frustrating woman?”

“Several. I didn’t like it.”

“Then stop being that way.”

“Maybe I will if you’ll talk to me.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing the last half hour?”

“Trying to pick words that tell me as little as possible.”

That stopped him in his tracks for several minutes.

“What do you want to know?” he finally asked.

“I’m not really sure.”

“Woman, you’re stretching my patience.”

“It’s about time. You’ve stretched mine often enough. I have a name. I prefer it to being addressed as
woman.”

“You made me angry.”

“At least I got some emotion out of you.”

“Did you feel any emotion when I kissed you?”

He’d effectively put her in her place.

“Yes, but I’m not sure what kind it was.”

“You women beat all. Now you’ve got
kinds
of emotion. What will you have next?”

“Of course there are kinds of emotion. The most common is naked attraction. As good-looking as you are, you ought to know about that. There’s the emotion of friendship. There’s also the emotion of momentary infatuation. Then there’s the emotion of something quite different, deeper, more long-lasting.”

“What’s that?”

“That’s what I’m not sure about. I think it’s made up of little bits of the first ones. But it’s got to have something stronger to make it last. Maybe need. Maybe finding something you want so much you never willingly go without it, something you need so much you’ll sacrifice for it.”

“What could be that important?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out, but maybe you already know. What was so important about Boulder Gap that you came back here even though nearly everybody wanted you to leave?”

She wondered if she’d ever get used to his long pauses in conversation.

“I found my soul when I found my valley. It’s where I came when I was so angry I wanted to hurt everybody. Where I came when the pain of knowing nobody wanted me grew too great to endure. It’s the only place where I could lie down and sleep soundly. It’s my home. It fills me up when I start to feel empty. It comforts me when I wonder if I shouldn’t give up and go away. Without it I wouldn’t be whole.”

“I think you’ve just described it better than I ever could.”

“Described what?”

“The kind of emotion that lasts forever, the kind every man and woman wants to find. The kind that’s called love.”

“I don’t ever want to feel that for a woman.”

“Why?”

“My stepfather worshiped my mother. He would do anything for her, even live with the shame of knowing his wife was another man’s mistress. He loved her so much he couldn’t live without her.”

Tanzy was beginning to wonder if there was no limit to the pain and destruction Russ’s mother had managed to cause in her short life.

“You’ve opened yourself to your men, and you’ve opened yourself to Tardy,” she said.

That’s not the same.”

“I know, but it’s for that very reason you must open yourself to women—well, at least one woman. You’ll never be complete, never be happy until you do.”

Another pause. He was driving her crazy.

“Why do you care?”

“Because I like you.”

“You don’t want to marry me.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t like you. You don’t want to marry me, but you like me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You just said—”

“About not wanting to marry you.”

Now it was her turn to fall silent. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“I don’t think being married to you would be bad,” Russ said. “You’re pretty, you’re nice, the boys like you, and you didn’t lie to me.”

As unsatisfactory as Russ’s reasons were, they represented a big step for him. Even if they involved less emotional content than a lecture on the role of gold in the settling of the West, he
had
changed his mind. It was progress.

“I’m glad you approve of me, but that doesn’t mean I’d be a good wife for you.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I want to mean more to my husband than your valley means to you.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Then you’d better start looking for someone who’ll settle for less.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“Because the only one I’d settle for is you.”

Tanzy didn’t think she could stand any more revelations. Or the wild, out-of-control shifting of her emotions. She hated it when her head was in conflict with her emotions. It was even worse when her body disagreed with both. She felt like a battlefield with no victor, only the casualties of an indecisive conflict.

Why on earth should such an artless confession touch her in ways beautifully turned phrases never could? Russ was an emotional cripple caught in a fight for his life. She didn’t want anybody she had to prop up. She wanted a partner—equality and mutual respect.

“Were you able to get all the supplies you wanted?” Russ asked.

The change in subject startled her but was a relief. She needed time to organize her thoughts, control her emotions, understand why her body was drawn to Russ like iron to a magnet.

“I want you to kill him,” Stocker said to Chick during their midnight meeting in his office at the saloon.

“You told me
not
to kill him, that you wanted to see him hang.”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t care how you do it as long as he’s dead.”

Everything seemed to change after that ride from town. Tanzy became so aware of Russ that he seldom left her thoughts. She watched his every move, listened and remembered his every word, tried to fathom his moods.

“He’s the best man you’ll find anywhere.” It was Welt’s turn to stay at the cabin. Today Tanzy had him helping her move furniture as she cleaned and rearranged the main room.

“How can you say that?” she asked. “Your friendship with him has alienated you from your family.”

“Russ was the only guy I knew who didn’t care that my father was almost as rich as Stocker. If he thought I’d said or done something stupid, he didn’t hesitate to let me know, but he was more ready to stand up for me than I was.”

“I know he has the ability to develop strong friendships with men, but why won’t he let himself do that with women?”

“Russ tried to see the best in his mother and sister. When he couldn’t, he just stopped looking at women altogether. It didn’t help that Ethel Peters turned on him when he wasn’t interested in her.”

“Ethel liked Russ?”

“She wasn’t obvious about it. Didn’t you know?”

She hadn’t known, but it explained a lot. Welt also told her about Betty.

“She took up with some guy when Russ went to Texas. She took up with another when he was in prison. She was a fool to believe Russ wouldn’t think she was doing exactly what his mother and sister had done.”

It seemed Russ’s life was littered with women who’d betrayed him. That made her self-imposed task of restoring his faith in women all the more difficult. How could she teach a man to have faith in women when she didn’t plan to stick around? That raised a more difficult question: Was she sure she didn’t want to stick around?

Russ had stayed at the cabin. He’d spent the morning working outside with Tardy, but the boy had gone off with Tim after lunch, and Russ had spent the last hour inside writing. He was getting faster and his writings were getting longer. Tanzy continued to be impressed with both his ability and his determination.

“Are you through?” He’d been sitting at the table, more often in thought than actually writing.

“Just about. I’ve only got another sentence or two.”

“I thought I’d take a walk. I’m feeling the need to get outside.”

“Wait a bit. I’ll go with you. I don’t want you wandering about by yourself.”

She’d hoped he’d say that. A few minutes later he got up and left his writing on the table. “I’ll saddle some horses,” he said and left. She should have expected as much. Welt told her a cowboy never walked when he could ride.

She walked over to the table and picked up the paper Russ had left. She really didn’t need to correct much anymore, but he needed the exercise of formulating his thoughts.

Sometimes I can’t find the words to say what I want. Most of the time it’s the wrong ones that come out. I don’t know how to talk to women. I never did. I don’t know how to tell you that you’re special. All the boys think so. It’s not anything you cook so much as it is the pleasure you take in our enjoyment of it. It’s not that you keep the cabin neat and clean. It’s that you’re doing it for us. You never remind us that we’re ex-cons. We all want to marry you. We hope you’ll never leave.

Tanzy had to wipe the tears from her eyes. That was probably the closest thing to a love letter Russ would ever write. It must have taken a lot of courage to expose himself like that. She wondered if he’d ever be able to tell the woman he loved what was in his heart. She guessed it might not matter to the woman as long as she was secure in his love, but she knew it would matter to Russ. She grabbed a hat to keep the wind from tangling her hair and went outside to wait for him.

“You’ll have to teach me how to ride in this saddle,” she said. “I’ve never used one.”