Chapter 25
Dawn. Traces of pink lined the eastern horizon.
Patches of hickory, mesquite, and oak dotted the prairie between the ranch and Spring Creek.
But Ben’s direction lay south across the Brazos River and into Palo Pinto County.
He scraped his sandpaper tongue over his lips as he tugged on the cinch strap.
He should be staying here to protect Charlie and Cora, not riding off.
Penny snorted and tossed her midnight-hued mane.
Cora stood at his side, wrapped in her red shawl. The comb he’d given her rested snug in her flowing hair. Her eyes were still puffy from sleep.
He laid the reins across the saddle horn and turned to her. Lord, watch over her and Charlie. “Mr. Franklin should be here around suppertime every evening. He understands he’ll take his meals in the loft.”
“That’s good. I wouldn’t want another cowhand to get the idea he can run the ranch because he gets invited to the supper table a few times.”
He blinked at her.
The corners of her mouth quirked upward.
He chuckled. “For your information, Cora-girl, I’m more of a partner than cowhand.”
“See what a few dinners did for you?” She edged the toe of her unlaced shoe against his boot. Dew and bits of grass dampened the leather. “But you’re more of a knight.”
He took her cool hand in his. “Only for my princess.”
She blushed and fidgeted as if not quite accustomed to the endearment. When he returned, he’d shower her with attention and court her proper.
But when was he going to tell her about his obligation to his father?
One that a letter wouldn’t get him out of, not if he wanted to maintain his family’s respect.
Until their embrace in the foyer five nights ago, Cora knowing or not knowing hadn’t mattered, but now he was creating heart-deep expectations.
He’d told himself he’d tell her before he left for Palo Pinto County and the widow’s, but how could he do that minutes before riding off for weeks?
Cora fingered the tooled leather of the saddle’s pommel.
She’d insisted upon loaning— more like giving—him the finest of her family’s three remaining saddles.
“You should take Mr. Franklin with you instead of leaving him with us. You need all the help you can get with the cattle. Charlie and I will make out fine. We promise to stay locked in the house from sunset to sunrise, and you know the double cabin is impenetrable. Plus, no one’s getting the gate open with that chain on there, without a key. ”
Ben stretched his forearm over the saddle seat, just shy of Cora’s hand.
“It’s not open for discussion. If anything happened to you or Charlie, I’d never forgive myself.
Franklin will just be here for the nights.
Getting paid to sleep. Can’t ask for any easier position than that.
He may be past his prime, but I have it on good account from Miller that Franklin is a very able shot and one who can be trusted. ”
She jutted her chin. “Franklin is an experienced cowhand, and he knows his way around the frontier and cattle—”
“If I need more hired hands in addition to Goodnight’s two men, I’ll stop by Major Ramsey’s place in Palo Pinto, hire a couple of his men on commission.”
“Working with cattle on the range can be dangerous, Ben.”
He cupped his hands around her upper arms, massaging her tense shoulders with his thumbs. “You and Charlie can pray for me while I’m away.”
Air swooshed from her lungs. “I suppose you don’t know how time works on this ranch. For every day you spend out on the range or in some far-off county, three days pass here…” She fingered a button on his red cotton shirt just below his collarbone.
“I know I’m going to miss my girl.” His swallow worked its way down his throat. “And we’d best express our private goodbyes before Charlie finishes tending the horses and hurries over here.” His voice dipped.
“Private goodbyes?” She crossed her arms as if she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Got to say see you later to my girl in the proper way.” He drew her against him.
She slid her palms over his chest and around the back of his neck, igniting fire in his belly. Golden flecks lit her hazel eyes as they delved into his gaze. “You stay out of trouble and come back soon as you can, you hear?” A small crevice formed over the bridge of her nose.
Was it only the dangers of the trail she was concerned about, or was it the draw of the laudanum too? He brushed his fingertips across her silken hair. “I’m serious about you praying for me. And if LeBeau shows up, tell him his calling days are done.”
“I will.” Her voice firmed.
“You take care of yourself.” His gaze dropped.
Her unkissed lips…inviting as a ripe peach…parted.
His heart pounded. Who knew how long he’d be gone.
Surely, it’d be understandable if he gave her one kiss.
The letter to Olivia would reach Philadelphia.
His betrothal would be over. Surely, one kiss based upon the promise of all of that would be understandable.
What if something happened while he was away?
What if he didn’t make it back? The war and Andersonville had taught him not to take tomorrow for granted.
Lowering his head, he slipped his hand beneath her hair and drew her mouth to his. “You’re the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Their lips met…sunrise and sunset intertwining and bursting forth in a single moment.
His breath came short and hard as he withdrew his mouth and dipped his forehead to hers. Her chest rose and fell against his. He needed to marry this girl. Dear Lord, let it be. The rest of his life with Cora. He’d said it, and he meant it. He squeezed his eyes shut.
And what of his promise to his father?
Shakespeare sonnets and a half a tea brick in hand, Cora crossed the threshold of the wide open hall to the porch, bracing herself for a barrage of objections.
Arms folded, Charlie stood at the end of the porch. His knife hung from a sheath secured around his waist with a strip of rawhide, as was his custom since the Comanches’ night visit. The boy wasn’t going to make this any easier.
“Good afternoon, Cora, Charlie.” Sporting a fine black frock coat and trousers, Arthur LeBeau crested the top of the steps. His roan American saddlebred waited at the hitching post.
“Afternoon.” She rolled her shoulders, working out the tension.
Arthur’s gaze dropped to her hands. His smile dimmed as he removed his hat. “Either you’re eager to read poetry or—”
“Ben’s courting my sister.” Charlie gripped the porch post and leaned outward, swinging back and forth. “She don’t need your presents—”
“Charlie.” Cora jabbed a hand to her hip. “This conversation is for grownups. Get yourself out to the barn and muck out the stalls. Then give Sandy a good brushing.”
The boy’s lips vibrated beneath his hard exhale. “I’ll brush her in the yard.” He scuffed his boot against the porch board.
“Right outside the stable, no closer. Then you’ll muck the stalls.” Not a bad idea to have the boy in sight, but out of hearing distance.
Bracing herself, she turned to Arthur as Charlie stomped off the porch. “I apologize for the boy’s manners.”
A smirk slipped across his lips. “I see Mr. McKenzie has made significant headway in the last few weeks.” He raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression we had a pleasant afternoon last time I called.”
“We did. It’s just that...we…I…” She held out the gifts to him. “My connection with Mr. McKenzie goes back to my brother Jeb, and my friendship with Ben…Mr. McKenzie…has grown into more.” Did she really need to explain all of this?
“You’re free to keep the gifts.” His voice had stiffened.
“It wouldn’t be proper.” She shoved them his way.
“McKenzie isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate Shakespeare’s sonnets?” He slipped the book from her fingers.
“Mr. McKenzie is every bit as educated as you.”
Arthur snorted and tapped the book against his leg. “He looks more like a second-rate cowhand to me. And didn’t you tell me his father helped him get the job at the newspaper?”
“I’ll not stand here and listen to you denigrate him.” She pushed the tea into Arthur’s hand.
He laid the gifts on the table. “I’d think a young woman of your standing would appreciate a second opinion when it comes to making the most important decision of her life. You’d ask for as much if you were purchasing horses, or cattle, or a piece of land.”
“If I need a second opinion, I’ll ask the minister.” Couldn’t the man just leave?
“The circuit rider who shows up once a month?” He scoffed. “Personally, I’m surprised McKenzie has time to court. How long does he plan on staying in Texas? Doesn’t he have an editing job to get back to in Pennsylvania?” His eyes glistened like steel.
She gnawed her lip. “I can’t see that it’s any of your concern.” She clasped her hands to her middle. “I’m sorry you had to ride all the way out here for disappointing news. I’ve appreciated your professional help with my family, and I—”
“I have very much enjoyed your company, Cora.” Arthur settled into one of the cane rockers.
“I’d graciously take my leave if it weren’t for the fact I rode eight miles under the expectations I’d be a welcome guest.” He tossed the tea onto the opposite rocker and set his hat atop the book.
“If I might be so bold as to impose upon your hospitality, I’d appreciate a few minutes in the shade of your porch and a glass of cider. ”
She blew out a breath. “If you want cider, you need to pick another topic of conversation.”
“As you wish.” He drummed his fingers on the chair arm.