- Home
- Lacy Williams
Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set Page 22
Love Inspired Historical October 2015 Box Set Read online
Page 22
She believed him, believed the sincerity of his intense gaze.
“I can’t make any guarantees for my brothers, though.”
She laughed a little. “I like your brothers.”
“Good.” His eyes crinkled around the edges. “I was real pleased to see you this morning. It wasn’t so bad, coming to town, was it?”
It had been terrifying, not that she would admit it to him.
“I— It— I did it,” she concluded.
Again came that soft smile, the one that he seemed to give only to her. “You don’t have to face things alone anymore,” he reminded her.
That would take some getting used to.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Almost a month to the day after Catherine’s appearance at Sunday worship, Matty patrolled the boardwalk on a Saturday afternoon. One of the other deputies would be coming on duty at sunset, and Matty had promised to ride out in the morning and collect Catherine for worship. It meant he would only get a few hours rest tonight, but she’d finally agreed to come for lunch, and he was thrilled for her to have the chance to interact more with his family.
He hadn’t gotten to see her as much as he would’ve liked in the weeks since she’d shyly asked him to come calling. Between his responsibilities at home and work as a deputy, he’d had only two free days. And he’d spent both with Catherine on the homestead. She’d come to town for Sunday services, so he’d seen her then, too, but had to be conscious of all the eyes on them, the expectation of those who believed he had to have a spotless reputation just because he worked for the town.
Pop’s health was a worry. He was more and more out of breath at even the slightest exertion, and Matty feared the old man didn’t have long left on the earth.
Matty was ready to get married, but he’d hesitated bringing it up, knowing that Pop’s health was so precarious.
And there was still the issue of where they would live.
At least the Chestertons were no longer a worry. They’d been locked up and were awaiting sentencing for their assault against Catherine.
He still didn’t like the idea of living so far away from community and from his family. But he couldn’t imagine asking her to leave the homestead behind, either, not with it being the place she associated with her mama and with Pop.
Tonight, he had to take one more patrol down the boardwalk and report back to the sheriff’s office.
But as he was passing the bank, he saw suspicious movement inside. Maybe it was just old Mrs. Belvedere, in one of her visiting moods, but it was awful close to quitting time. He ducked in the door, just as a man in a mask leveled a shotgun at him.
“This is a stickup.”
Blood pounded through his head, for moments overpowering the shrieks of two women and the fast talking of the bank teller behind the bars at the counter.
“All right, everybody take it easy.” Matty held his hands up, making no move to draw his weapon.
The man with the gun had shaky hands. And shaky hands meant danger. Matty watched for any opening he could use to get closer, get that gun or draw his gun.
The bandit didn’t seem to register the tin star at Matty’s chest, nor did he ask Matty to shed his weapon. He just kept that shotgun leveled at Matty.
The bank teller was still fast-talking, but all of a sudden, everything around Matty went to white noise.
He might be in town, but what was going to stop this thief from shooting him and everyone else in the bank? How exactly did being in a populated area keep him from dying?
All along, he’d told himself that he wouldn’t like living on Catherine’s homestead because of the isolation, because it reminded him too much of what had happened during his childhood.
But what if it was all in his head?
What if there was just as much danger of falling off a horse at his pa’s ranch and getting killed? Or being held up in a bank robbery? Or surviving a train crash, as Edgar’s wife, Fran, had?
He was an idiot.
He’d been thinking about it all wrong.
It wasn’t the place that was important. It was whom you were with.
And if he got out of this alive, he didn’t want to spend one more day without Catherine. She needed him. Pop needed him.
And Matty needed her.
He loved her.
*
Afternoon sunlight turned Matty’s hair golden as Catherine glanced over her shoulder to where he pushed her gently in the wooden swing. The swing was secured to a large tree not far from the ranch house. Behind the home and across the yard was the barn and combined bunkhouse, along with a corral that held several beautiful horses.
Catherine had walked around in a state of awe for most of the afternoon. She’d now heard the story of how Jonas had started the homestead with just one plot and grown it by purchasing land when each of his sons had come of age.
She’d seen the fine horses Oscar raised and admired the large herd of cattle the family cultivated. They were almost a town of their own.
Daniel, a family friend and brother to Edgar’s wife, Fran, had started a small school from his home at the edge of the ranch property.
Catherine had spent the good part of an hour talking with Hattie, one of the two family doctors. She’d been surprised to discover that Maxwell hadn’t learned to read until he was in his teens—and he’d gone on to pursue his passion in medicine.
It gave her hope that one day she could learn to read, could gain the education she’d always wanted.
And the best part of all was the man now pushing her swing, although he’d shared with her and the family about the frightening bank holdup he’d been involved in yesterday. It still made her shiver to think about it.
“You’re quiet,” Matty said, his voice floating over her shoulder as his hand met her lower back.
“I’m adjusting to the lack of noise.”
He laughed. “They were extra rowdy today, trying to impress you.”
“Impress me?”
“And humiliate me.”
She leaned back, letting her arms take her weight on the ropes, so she could see him. “I liked hearing all the stories about you.”
His neck had gone red, but he grinned at her. “Good.”
“But we didn’t get to play any games…”
He grabbed the ropes and stopped the swing, then came around to the front.
His hands clasped hers on the ropes. “We can save the games for the next time.” His eyes sparkled down at her. “I might be a lawman, but I’ll steal some alone time with my girl if I have to.”
His words sent a thrill through her, but she struggled to keep a straight face.
“Next time? Your girl?”
He used their linked hands to draw her up out of the swing.
“Haven’t you guessed by now how I feel about you?”
She let her hands rest on his chest as his went to her waist. His hat shaded his eyes, but he didn’t hide the vulnerability there.
“I’m not good at attributing motives to others’ actions. Remember?”
His mouth twitched. “Then I’ll have to speak plain. I’m in love with you.”
Warmth infused every inch from her toes to the top of her head. She couldn’t believe he’d said the words.
Breath caught in her throat and she had to give a slight cough to expel it. “You are?”
He lowered his head until their foreheads touched. “Why shouldn’t I be? You saved me. Taught me to slow down and appreciate the beauty that was right in front of me—and that includes you.”
His words made her eyes prick with moisture. Her mouth trembled.
He was offering her his heart. How could she refuse to share hers, especially when it belonged to him already?
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
His expression, eyes slightly crinkled in his nervousness, opened up. Joy shone from every pore and he drew her in for a tight embrace, his chin resting on top of her head.
His exuberant hug
changed as he loosened his hold on her and then raised a hand to tip her face up for his kiss.
She met him eagerly, showing him through her touch the depth of her feelings. He deepened the kiss and she clung to his shoulders, her entire body thrilling to his touch.
Finally, he broke their kiss, holding her close again as they both worked to catch their breath.
“Will you marry me?”
His softly murmured words startled her out of the daydream she’d fallen into. She moved back, far enough to see into his face. “What?”
That vulnerability had come back to his expression. “I asked if you’d marry me.”
The reality of what he was asking, what that would mean, burned through her, erasing the sense of contentment she’d just experienced. “Matty…”
“Look, I know you value your independence,” he said quickly. “And I don’t intend to undermine that.”
She lowered her eyes. “I have Pop to think about. I can’t… I can’t ask him to move into town. And your job—”
His hands rested on her shoulders and he squeezed slightly. “I wouldn’t ask you to. I was thinking we could either have a long engagement…or if you want Pop to be a part of the wedding ceremony, I’ll ask the sheriff for some leave and move out to the homestead with the two of you.”
More tears burned her throat. She’d seen the way he loved being a part of his family. “You’d move into the soddy with us?”
His mouth tipped up. “I might do my best to persuade my brothers to give us a house raising—build a little two-room cabin…”
Now she couldn’t keep her tears from spilling over. Matty brushed her tears away with his thumbs.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry. If you want to think about it, I’ll wait—”
She shook her head. “I don’t need to think about it. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He whooped, picking her up and swinging her in a wide circle.
She laughed and swatted his shoulder. “Put me down!”
But he didn’t, even when his brothers spilled out of the house to see what all the commotion was about.
“She said yes,” he called out to them. “We’re getting married!”
The rowdy bunch gathered around them, talking and teasing and arguing as she’d learned was their usual routine.
She stood hand in hand with Matty, basking in the glow of being a part of a family again. God had brought her here—she could trust Him with the future.
Epilogue
Christmas Eve, 1902
This would be the first Christmas Catherine could remember without Pop.
The grief of his passing earlier in the fall still caught her unaware at times. After battling the demons of his mind and his heart, he’d slipped away quietly in his sleep. Just never woken up.
The grief had finally lessened somewhat, knowing that he was in a place where his mind and heart had been healed completely.
And the love of her husband and the boisterous family that had folded her into its bosom had gone a long way toward healing her heart.
Yesterday morning, before dawn, she’d gone out and visited the still-raised plot of land where they’d buried him, near his favorite fishing spot. The days of tears were gone but that didn’t mean that she didn’t miss him and she’d stood there praying and missing him for a long time. Long enough for Matty to come looking for her.
Later, they’d bundled close together beneath a swath of blankets in the sleigh and Matty had made Catherine laugh with his stories of Christmases past as they’d traveled to Jonas and Penny’s home. Harold Elliott had agreed to send a hand to see to the animals for a couple of days.
She’d never expected to have a big family like this, though she’d longed for a father almost all of her childhood. Jonas’s and Penny’s abiding love went a long way toward filling those empty places in her heart.
She and Matty had stayed overnight, tucked into the back bedroom. It had been different, noisier somehow, sleeping in a house that wasn’t the soddy. But she supposed it was something she could get used to. Especially if the gift she planned to give Matty for Christmas panned out.
“Good morning.”
She startled from her thoughts at the whispered greeting.
When she’d woken early and with no chores to do, she’d settled in one corner of the big parlor sofa, not wanting to wake anyone else. Today and tomorrow would be busy with making meals and celebrating and children running amok and no doubt everyone needed their rest.
Now Ricky and his wife, Daisy—whom she’d met for the first time last night—emerged from the hall. Matty was on their heels, running a hand through his rumpled hair.
He leaned over the back of the sofa and bussed her cheek with a kiss, and then the two brothers moved into the kitchen, jostling each other along the way. She heard a pot banging and knew they were probably making coffee. They spoke in low voices.
She found herself smiling absently after them, thankful for this time Matty would spend with his family. Because of the distance, Ricky and Daisy rarely made it home.
“I’m sorry if Katie-bug’s crying kept you up last night,” Daisy said. “She wasn’t used to the unfamiliar crib. Or her daddy snoring in the same room.” Their baby was right at a year and had spent last night crawling around the house, examining everyone’s boots.
Catherine shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad. Is she still sleeping?”
“Yes, the little ornery thing.”
Catherine had liked the other woman on sight, even if she had been shocked to discover that Daisy had been in an accident that had required her right arm be amputated close to the shoulder. Maybe it was because they’d both come late to the family, or because they were both slightly different.
At her insistence and with Matty’s support, she’d told the family about her parentage. And been happily shocked when it hadn’t mattered one whit to them.
It had taken time for the townspeople to come to accept her in Bear Creek. Though Luella and her friends made a noticeable effort to be amicable with Catherine, sometimes she still walked past the post office or passed someone in church and would swear she heard a whisper. And it still made her uncomfortable.
But she’d learned that it didn’t hurt so much anymore because she had the support of her husband and his wonderful family.
“Is it Christmas yet?” Noah, Oscar and Sarah’s young son, bounded into the room. Someone shushed him from the direction he’d appeared.
A cool draft and stamping feet from the kitchen must mean that Oscar’s brood had arrived, though it was early yet.
“Auntie Cathy, is it Christmas yet?” The tyke made a beeline toward Catherine and settled his elbows on her knees, looking up at her adoringly.
From the day of their small church wedding in late summer, she’d been given a new nickname, one that erased all those old memories and hurts from the past. Auntie Cathy.
“Not until tomorrow,” Matty said, ruffling the boy’s hair as he settled next to his wife on the sofa. He curled an arm around her shoulders and she couldn’t help pressing in against the warmth of his side.
He handed her a steaming mug of coffee, which she accepted with both hands. “Thank you.”
With the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her shoulder, Matty traced the curve of her cheek with his forefinger. “You all right? You got up awful early.”
She blew on the steaming beverage. “I’m fine. Just…reminiscing.”
“Rem-in-what-ing?” Noah’s nose wrinkled as he botched the word.
“It means remembering,” she said gently.
“’S good to remember,” he said, his expression serious as if he imparted all his four-year-old wisdom to them. “I gots to remember to be good today or Santy won’t bring me nuthin’ in my sock.”
Catherine hid her smile by sipping her coffee.
“I’m afraid your uncle Ricky will be getting coal in his sock,” Daisy said gravely from the opposite sofa, and Noah turned his attention to her.
<
br /> “Has Uncle Ricky been naughty this year?”
“He always is,” Seb chimed from the doorway. Behind him, Breanna tumbled in the door, shaking snow from her hat and coat. She hadn’t cut her hair, but threatened to shear it off like Catherine’s, though for now it rested in a long braid down her back.
“If you need to take a break from all the noise later, you just give me the signal,” Matty whispered.
She sipped her coffee again, contentment seeping through her. “What’s the signal?”
“A wink will do.”
*
Matty had received his wink after the noon meal and whisked Catherine out for a horseback ride. The air was brisk, but the wind had died down overnight and they wouldn’t be out long.
She was a fast learner and improving her riding skills rapidly, but had elected to ride double with him today. He didn’t mind. It was warmer.
Her hands clutched his sides, but then she pointed to a copse across the meadow, sounding entranced by the play of snow on the pines.
“Can we walk for a bit?” she asked before they’d made it across the meadow.
“Whatever you like, sweetheart.” He took her gloved hand in his and led the horse. They trudged through the snow, sometimes laughing when their boots found an unexpected hole.
“Have you thought about returning to the sheriff’s office?” she asked.
He shrugged. He’d asked for time away from being a deputy when she’d accepted his proposal earlier in the summer. She and Pop were more important to him than the job, but there were days he missed it.
“I’m enjoying getting to spend quality time with my wife,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows that never failed to make her laugh.
She elbowed him in the side where their hands were connected. “Maybe I’d like a little less quality time with my ornery husband.”
He tilted his head to one side as if contemplating her words, then shook his head, keeping his expression very serious. “Nah. That can’t be it.”
She laughed, as he’d meant her to, and an easy smile spread across his lips.
He wasn’t in a rush to go back to the job. Sometimes Catherine’s melancholy worried him, but it seemed it was just her way of dealing with her grief. And he liked spending his days with her, working the land.