Chapter 8
She’d done it. She’d finally left her father and sister.
Hyacinth breathed in the cool evening air as she rode beside Beckett down Fairplay’s Main Street. She should be feeling a little sad, shouldn’t she? But the relief had continued to grow the farther they’d ridden from Breckenridge.
Yes, she would miss Violet. But now that Violet was happy and had a life of her own, Hyacinth knew it was okay to go, that she no longer had to look out for her sister.
“We’ll stay here for the night.” Beckett nodded at a nearby establishment that was well lit and appeared respectable.
Through the growing darkness, she could still make out the big sign above the door that read “Hotel Windsor.” The two-story building was painted white, and the big front windows showed a large dining room that seemed busy.
She stifled a yawn even as her stomach gurgled with hunger. “Good. Otherwise I might think you’re trying to starve me to death.” They’d long since eaten the simple fare she’d packed for their lunch.
He didn’t retort with a comeback. Instead, he frowned. “We should’ve stopped sooner.”
The snow had been much deeper in the high elevations than they’d realized, and Independence Pass had been treacherous in places. It had been slow going for the horses, and they’d had to stop and clear ice out of the horses’ hooves frequently.
By the time they’d started down into South Park, the afternoon had nearly passed. Beckett had asked her if she wanted to stop in Alma for the night, but she’d insisted that she would be okay until they reached Fairplay.
The truth was, she couldn’t blame him for her hunger, or really for anything. He’d been attentive and considerate all day and had done his best to make the cold and snowy traveling conditions more bearable by riding ahead of her and forging a trail for her to follow.
Because of the difficult conditions, they hadn’t talked a whole lot. Most of the time, he’d been too focused on keeping them safe. It hadn’t been until the last hour or so after they’d reached the level valley that he’d fallen back and ridden beside her.
She’d been surprised when they’d had normal conversations without any bickering.
They’d talked a little bit about the history of Fairplay and the rest of South Park, which was home to some large cattle ranches that rivaled the Noble Ranch.
He’d apparently worked on a ranch near Fairplay for one season before moving up to Breckenridge and meeting Sterling.
Now, as they veered their horses toward the hotel, she felt a camaraderie with him that she’d never expected. How long would it last, though, before they were back to fighting?
They halted in front of a hitching post, and Beckett swung out of his saddle. “Wait here. I’ll go in and see if they have a room.”
She wanted to correct him and have him ask for rooms—as in two. After all, she did have the money Violet had given her after the wedding—probably from Sterling—to ensure that she had a little extra.
However, Hyacinth bit back the retort. She’d agreed to be Beckett’s wife, and the marriage bed was part of this bargain. If she’d been opposed to sharing a room and bed, then she should have waited and married Mr. Gray.
But what if her decision to marry Beckett had been a mistake?
Should she have chosen Mr. Gray? He’d been polite when she’d sought him the day after the snowstorm to let him know that she’d accepted Beckett’s proposal.
Of course, it had been awkward, but telling him in person had been the right thing to do.
Beckett looped his lead line around the hitching post, then started up the stairs of the establishment.
His oiled coat and leather boots were mud-splattered.
His hat and gloves were damp. And the scruff on his face was dark.
But that rough ruggedness made him look tough, like a man who would be dangerous to double-cross.
He was also the sort of man who would expect to consummate their marriage and would never be satisfied with separate rooms and separate beds. Even if he’d held off on kissing her at the wedding—which had been decent of him—he’d said they would save the kissing for later.
Her stomach flipped at just the insinuation of kissing Beckett again. If she hadn’t done it right the first time, and if Beckett hadn’t liked it, she’d have the chance to show him that she could do it better.
This time she would do better. At least, she hoped so.
She might not ever have the same deep and encompassing love for Beckett that Violet had for Sterling, and she would definitely never want to be physical with Beckett the same way Violet was with Sterling, but she wouldn’t mind finding a little pleasure in the kissing, and she guessed Beckett wouldn’t mind it either.
A breeze kicked up and blew against Hyacinth, and she drew her winter coat around herself more securely, along with the bearskin blanket Beckett had draped around her before they’d left Breckenridge.
She hadn’t thought she would need it, but the wind had been cold, and the temperature had dropped once the sun had started to set. She was glad for it now.
From what she could tell in the growing darkness, the little mining town of Fairplay had an abundance of saloons, hotels, and boarding houses, along with the usual stores and businesses.
It was surrounded by the wide-open plains of the South Park valley, with the foothills and mountains in the distance to the east and the west.
Beckett returned only a minute later with the news that he’d reserved a room.
He helped her down, then untied their bags from the backs of their horses.
She hadn’t been able to pack much, only a few garments she would need for traveling.
She wasn’t sure how far they would ride their horses, but eventually they would reach the train that would take them to Texas and fairly close to Beckett’s family ranch.
He estimated about two weeks of traveling, depending on how well they were able to make the connecting trains.
Two weeks was much better than the two months the journey had taken years earlier, when travelers had to use the Santa Fe Trail in covered wagons and stagecoaches. They’d been plagued by cruel bandits, angry Natives, dry weather, and the dangerous elements.
Whatever the length, Hyacinth wasn’t intimidated and was actually looking forward to getting to see a part of the country that was new. She had never minded all the traveling during the frequent moves she’d made due to her father losing his job, and she was well prepared for the challenges to come.
With Beckett leading the way with their bags, they headed up to the second floor and their room. It had barely enough space for a double bed and a side table with a lamp and washbasin. Though it was small, at least it was neat and clean.
While Beckett took their horses to the livery to board them for the night, she freshened her appearance.
She spot-cleaned the mud from her skirt, washed up briefly, then refashioned her hair as best she could, especially since Beckett had seemed to like it.
Or at least, his eyes had filled with appreciation at the sight of her when she’d walked into the church.
With a pinch to each of her cheeks for extra color, she left her room and went down to the dining room.
Thankfully, a table had just become available, and she sat down there to wait for Beckett.
She could feel the stares from some of the men around the room and guessed they were wondering what a woman was doing at a table alone.
She fingered the ring Beckett had given her, hoping the men would notice it and realize she had a husband.
It was big enough for the cowboys all the way over in Texas to see if they looked hard enough.
Not really. But it was the biggest and most beautiful ring she’d ever seen.
She actually really loved it and had been twisting it all day.
It must have cost Beckett a fortune. He’d probably picked it to prove to her that he was just as wealthy as he’d claimed. Not that she needed him to prove anything. She believed him.
A shadow fell across her, and she glanced up to find a young man standing above her.
“Are you in need of a dinner partner, miss?” he asked with a smile. He was attired in simple trousers and a dress shirt with a tie and was probably a worker in a local business and not a miner.
She lifted her left hand to pretend to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and show off her ring. Before she could say anything, the room grew silent, and all eyes swung to the door.
With a scowl on his face as deep as a mountain ravine, Beckett stood in the door staring at the fellow beside her. Beckett’s coat was pushed aside to reveal his fingers gripping the handle of a revolver holstered at his waist.
As Beckett began to cross the room, his gaze locked on the fellow and his boots thudded ominously with each step he drew nearer. His eyes glinted with a lethal danger that should have scared her. Instead, it sent a strange sizzle through her.
The fellow visibly swallowed and shied back, bumping a chair at the next table.
Hyacinth almost rolled her eyes. What was Beckett doing intimidating this man with this display of strength?
Beckett halted only a few feet away. His jaw twitched, and the muscles in the hand on his revolver flexed. He looked even more dangerous than he had earlier, if that were possible.
“Get away from my wife,” he growled.
Wife. She was his wife. That was strange to think about.
The fellow held up both hands. “Listen, I didn’t know—”
“Now you do, and so does everyone else.” His voice remained low and threatening as he swept his gaze over the room full of mostly men.
The young man nodded and hurried away.
Beckett scraped out the chair next to hers, then lowered himself without taking his hand from his revolver. Finally, when he was seated, he released the gun and took up the dinner knife beside his plate.
She snorted. “I can’t believe you’re so jealous.”
“I’m not jealous. Just frustrated.” He twisted the knife.
“You’re acting like a barbarian.”
He shrugged. “I don’t want any other man talking to my wife.”
Wife. There was that word again, and he seemed to be having no trouble using it and claiming her. “The fellow didn’t know I was married.”
“I don’t care.” His dark gaze met hers.
Once more, the danger in the depths of the blue stirred heat inside her, a heat she didn’t understand. Was it attraction? Did she like that he was the jealous, protective type? Did she like that he was so strong and fearless?
She exhaled what she hoped sounded like an exasperated sigh and not a longing sigh. “Well, tone it back, Cowboy. No one needs to die here tonight, okay?”
He twisted the point of the knife for another moment before letting it clatter to the table. “Fine.” His lips twitched with the barest hint of a smile.
This time when she breathed out, it was with relief. She’d avoided getting into a fight with him. Maybe she could head off conflict better than she’d realized. She wasn’t sure. But it felt good to get along with him for once. It was something she could get used to.