Chapter 36 #2
Caleb blinked. “That’s it?”
“What did you expect? A speech?”
“I figured there’d be questions.”
“I have no questions. But I do have something to say.”
Doc paused, his gaze drifting toward the valley to the south.
“This past year, I’ve seen you for who you are, Marlowe.”
Caleb’s gut tightened. “Meaning?”
“I’ve seen you build a ranch from nothing.”
Then Doc looked toward the crowd.
“I’ve seen you fight for your friends...and at considerable risk.”
Doc nodded toward the ice palace where Paddy and Gabe had gone.
“And now, I’ve also seen you take in a boy who needed a home.”
His eyes came back to Caleb. His voice grew quieter.
“You love her, Marlowe. A blind man could see that. And I've never seen Sheila look at another man the way she looks at you.”
Caleb looked steadily at his friend. He didn’t have to say anything. Doc saw it all plainly enough.
The older man extended his hand. “Of course, you have my blessing, son.”
The word hit Caleb square in the chest.
Son.
Slowly, he reached out and shook Doc’s hand.
“Thank you.”
Doc grinned. “Don’t thank me yet.”
Caleb frowned. “Why?”
“Because asking me is the easy part.” Doc jerked a thumb toward the tent. “Now, go ask Sheila.”
Caleb watched him walk away.
For a moment, he stood alone beside the bonfire.
The sounds of laughter and music filled the cold Christmas air.
Only a few months ago, the idea of asking a woman to marry him would have sent him riding in the opposite direction.
Now he had a ranch. A partner. A boy who had just called him ‘family’. It was a life he didn’t want to lose.
Caleb looked up at the sparkling diamonds that blanketed the black expanse of sky above him.
He recalled the Bible story of the one Christmas star shining brighter than the rest and leading the Wise Men to where they needed to be.
A million gleaming stars shone above Elkhorn.
And Caleb knew this was exactly where he was supposed to be.
His hand slid inside his coat pocket, and his fingers wrapped around a small box. He had to find Sheila.
Inside the tent, the musicians had the crowd in high glee with a reel that filled the dance floor. The huge canvas hall was crowded, and more people were coming in all the time. The tables at the end were all taken.
Twenty people or two hundred people…it made no difference. Caleb’s eyes immediately found her.
Sheila was wearing a hooded velvet coat the color of burgundy wine, edged with white fur. Beneath it, a matching dress. The hood was pushed back, and she’d worn her golden hair in braids, piled on top of her head. As always, she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen anywhere.
She stood just away from the dancers, speaking to a tall woman standing beside her. Her face was animated. The two of them were completely unaware of all the men’s eyes that were directed their way.
He started toward them but was arrested by someone grabbing his arm. Henry, drink in hand.
“Who in blazes is that redhead with Sheila?”
Caleb took a second look at the two women and then smiled to himself. “You ain’t met her?”
Henry shook his head, obviously unable to tear his eyes away. “No, I ain’t. But she’s a killer, for sure.”
At least, he had that right.
“Want me to introduce you?”
“You know her?”
“’Course. She’s a friend of Sheila’s.” Caleb slapped his friend on the back. “But first, put the drink down. Straighten your collar. Wipe that food off your face.”
Henry put his drink down and went through motions of straightening his clothes, but quickly realized Caleb was joshing him. “Let’s go.”
They started toward the women, pushing their way through the merrymakers.
“I always loved tall women.”
“That right?” Caleb asked. “And short ones too, if I ain’t mistaken.”
Henry ignored him. “But redheads are something else.”
“And blondes. And brunettes. And—”
“Shut up.” His eyes were locked on the new paragon of feminine beauty. “A damn goddess, here in Elkhorn. How did I ever miss this one?”
“Some men are just blind.” Caleb stepped in front of Henry as they pushed their way through the last line of people.
Sheila saw them approaching. She immediately faced him and smiled.
“Marlowe.”
“Sheila.”
The tall woman ignored them, keeping her attention on the dance floor. Henry tapped Caleb on the shoulder, indicating with a jerk of his eyebrows that he was waiting.
“Sheila, could you introduce—”
“I can talk for myself, Marlowe,” Henry cut in, stepping up next to him. “Miss Sheila, would you be kind enough to introduce me to your lovely friend.”
Annie O’Neal took that moment to turn around.
“Red, you sure clean up nice,” Caleb said.
“Blame this one.” She elbowed Sheila, drawing a smile from the other woman.
“She says to me, there’s a first time for everything.
Mind you, it ain’t the first time I been roped into wearing a getup like this.
I just don’t believe in us women needing this horseshit of being uncomfortable all the time. You ever wore a dang corset, Marlowe?”
“Just saying, you look real fine tonight, Miss O’Neal,” Caleb said.
“Don’t get used to it. I’ll be back to being Red Annie before you can blink twice.”
Henry stood there, silent as a rock. His tongue was obviously tied in a knot.
Red finally cast a look his way. “Henry, you clean up good too.”
“Thank you, Annie.”
That was all he could get out, and Caleb was ready to kick Henry for not returning the compliment. An awkward silence hung in the air. Even the musicians had stopped between numbers.
Zeke came up in that moment and joined their circle. The burly little sheriff looked up at Annie, and Caleb thought he was licking his chops under all those whiskers.
“Why, Miss Red, would you do me the honor of a dance?”
“Hell no, Zeke,” Henry said, cutting in. “She’s dancing with me.”
Taking Red Annie by the hand, he pulled her toward the dance floor as the music started again.
She looked back over her shoulder. “Should I kick his ass for not asking proper like?”
“Let him have this dance,” Caleb called out to her. “You done overwhelmed the boy.”
They watched the two disappear into the crowd of dancers. Zeke, undaunted, turned his eye on Sheila. “Would you…”
Caleb cleared his throat and shook his head. The sheriff shrugged and set off in search of less dangerous prey.
A smile broke across Sheila’s lips. “You and Henry.”
“Zeke deserved it.”
“Why, just because he put Henry in jail?”
“Because when four humans are having a conversation, he shouldn’t interrupt.”
“And we all know what a sparkling conversationalist you are.” With a laugh that was as pleasing to his ear as a rippling creek in spring, she linked her arm with his. “Come back here with me. I have a gift for you.”
She steered him toward a table close to the canvas wall. Disengaging her arm, she picked up a long, scarlet satin parcel, bound with green ribbon.
“Sheila, you didn’t have to give me nothing.”
“Open it,” she said, her eyes shining.
The cloth wrapping fell away, and Caleb was left holding a leather rifle scabbard, decorated with beaded designs that he knew were Arapaho.
“I did the whole thing. Imala gave me the elk skin and showed me how to make and stitch it and how to do the bead work and…” She took a breath. “Do you like it?”
Caleb had to swallow twice to get the words out. It was getting to be a tough night in that respect. And he didn’t reckon it was going to get much easier.