Heartland Wedding (6 page)

True to form, Matilda threw her arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Come along, darling, you don’t need to see such brutality.” Spreading her lips into a snarl, she leveled a condescending glare onto Edward. “Shame on you. Men from this country do not engage in unseemly brawls.”

“Unless you’re a Tully,” he muttered.

She sniffed in disapproval, and then marched her daughter back into the mercantile. “Someone’s going to pay for my broken window.” The door slammed with a loud bang behind her.

Will pushed through the crowd and joined them on the sidewalk. “You all right, Gundersen?”

“Ja.”
Edward wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Never better.”

“Why would you take on a Tully, much less all three at the same time?” Zeb asked. “Everyone knows those boys fight dirty.”

Edward shot Pete a frustrated glare, then turned his attention back to Zeb. “Yeah, well, I didn’t intend to fight them,” he paused to take a breath, “I just wanted to have a few, uh…
words
with them.”

Will and Zeb shared a meaningful look, but didn’t comment. Pete held his tongue, as well. Everyone knew the Tully brothers were unreasonable on a good day. More often than not, a “few words” turned into a brawl.

Pete studied Edward’s face a moment longer. “You have a bloody nose, a split lip and some busted ribs. Not bad, considering the Tullys weren’t in a talkative mood.”

Edward clutched his mid-section and wheezed out a breath. “I don’t care what any of you think. I don’t regret
confronting those good-for-nothing troublemakers.” He glared at Pete, and then lowered his gaze quickly. A little too quickly. “I did what I had to do.”

Aware they were attracting an audience, Pete shifted his stance to shield Edward from the stares. “Can you stand?”

Edward’s lips thinned. “Won’t know till I try.”

Pete gripped one of his shoulders. Zeb took the other. Together, they carefully hoisted Edward to his feet, holding him steady until he secured his balance.

“You want me to get Doc Dempsey?” Will asked.

“No,”
Edward and Pete said simultaneously. The old man wouldn’t be able to do much, especially if Edward had busted a rib. In fact, Dempsey might make matters worse.

“Sure?” Will persisted. “His office is right next door.”

Pete grimaced. “We’re sure. Edward and me, we need to have us a little heart-to-heart.” He gauged the crowd, taking special note of Matilda Johnson’s beady-eyed gaze peering out from the gap where her store window had been. “Alone.”

“You better stabilize his ribs first.” Will motioned one of his ranch hands forward, a man Pete knew well. On occasion, Clint Fuller assisted him in the smithy, more now since the storm had blown through town.

“Here.” The lanky cowboy shouldered his way through the crowd. “Use this.”

Taking the well-worn blanket, Pete held Clint’s gaze over Edward’s head. “I’ll need your help in the smithy this week. Whenever Will can spare you.”

“We’ll make it work,” Will offered.

Pete nodded. “Much appreciated.”

With quick, careful movements, they wrapped Edward’s ribs. But the crowd’s murmuring grew louder and people began closing in on them.

It was time to move Edward away from all the interested stares. Draping the injured man’s arm over his shoulder, Pete steered him in the direction of Mrs. Jennings’s boardinghouse.

“We’ll be in touch,” he said to his friends as he maneuvered through a small opening in the crowd.

“Let us know if you need anything else,” Will replied.

“Right.” Pete waved a hand over his head without bothering to glance backward.

Leaning heavily on Pete, Edward half stumbled, half dragged himself down the sidewalk. “Not that I’m unappreciative of your assistance,” he said in a thicker accent than usual. “But where are you taking me?”

“To the boardinghouse.”

“I’d rather go back to my room in the livery.”

“Too bad. You need tending. I’m sure your sister will know what to do.”

Edward groaned. “Rebecca’s not going to like this.”

“You should have thought about that before you decided to have ‘a few words’ with the Tully brothers.”

“You didn’t hear what they said,” Edward grumbled.

Pete’s grip tightened, but he didn’t slow his pace. “Maybe I should hear it now.”

“They
said,
” Edward braced himself, “that they wanted Rebecca to give them a little of what Pete Benjamin already sampled.”

Pete stopped walking. He held himself perfectly still, but inside he trembled with rage. He thought briefly of praying for guidance, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not with Rebecca in physical danger from a wicked-minded man and his evil brothers. Pete needed to act before Sal had a chance.

“I have to go.” He stepped away from Edward.

“Pete, wait.” Edward swayed but righted himself with a shake. “Think about my sister.”

“I
am
thinking about her.” The threat was no longer about her reputation. It wasn’t about what Pete wanted, either. Ungodly men were willing to push themselves on Rebecca because of what they thought she’d done with him.

Pete’s heart constricted painfully in his chest. The situation had gone beyond mere talk. A woman’s physical safety was in jeopardy now. And Pete was the only one who could fix the situation.

He turned in the direction the Tullys had left town, but Edward’s hand clenched his shoulder with surprising strength. “Pete, you can’t attack the Tully brothers right now. Rebecca needs you more.”

Under Edward’s grip, Pete stood unmoving. Barely. His rage shuddered for release.

“I can’t protect her, Pete.” Edward took a wheezing breath. “Not all broken up like this. I need you to stay strong so you can take care of my sister for me.”

Fury so intense it left a tinny taste in his mouth burned through Pete, along with the savage need to wipe out the threat to Rebecca—literally—with his bare hands.

There is another way,
a still, small voice whispered in his head.
Marry her, and this ends. She’ll be safe in your home, carrying your name.

“Did you hear me?” Edward asked in a thick, frustrated tone.

Pete nodded.

“You’ll take care of my sister?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Pete angled his head toward the boardinghouse. “Can you make it the rest of the way on your own?”

“Ja.”
Edward straightened to his full height, but he ruined the affect by wincing. “It’s not so far.”

“Good. I have to go clean up.” Pete turned to go, then swung back around. “Once you’re bandaged, have Rebecca put on her prettiest dress.”

Edward eyed him skeptically. “Why?”

Pete glanced in the direction of the church. He and Rebecca were getting married. Tonight. But he’d learned his lesson. He would not
tell
Rebecca she was marrying him. He would ask her. Nicely.

“Because,” he said, “I have a proper proposal to make to your sister.”

And this time, he would do it right.

R
ebecca tied off the bandage around Edward’s ribs with slow, careful movements. She tried to hold her fear at bay, but she couldn’t stop her heart from beating too fast and too hard, as if she were running a race without a finish line in sight.

Something awful had happened to her brother, bad enough to put him in this injured condition. But he wasn’t revealing any specifics. After he’d assured her there’d been no accident at the livery, he’d become unusually reticent. Which could mean only one thing. He’d been in a fight.

With trembling fingers, she ruffled his hair as though he were the younger sibling rather than the older. “There.” She dropped a kiss to his forehead. “You’re all patched up now.”

“Takk,”
he said in Norwegian, then took what looked like a painful breath and began again. “I mean, thanks.”

Clicking her tongue, Mrs. Jennings scooted the bowl of water closer to where Rebecca stood over her brother. Sharing a worried look with the older woman, Rebecca dipped a rag into the cool liquid.

“I’ll get more water for you, dear.” Mrs. Jennings lifted the bowl from the table.

Rebecca gave her employer an appreciative smile before the woman trudged out the back door toward the pump. Watching her go, Rebecca sighed with gratitude. In her mid-fifties, Mrs. Jennings might appear overly formal to some in this town, but she’d always been kind to Rebecca. And she’d personally taken in one of the displaced children from the wagon train. Ten-year-old Alex seemed happy under Mrs. Jennings’s care.

Rebecca was, too. The woman might tuck her brown hair into an ordinary bun at the nape of her neck, but there was nothing ordinary about her. Yes, she had plain brown eyes, unremarkable features and wore nondescript clothing, but her inner beauty and love of the Lord radiated out of her like a sunbeam splitting through a dingy cloud on a blustery day.

Edward pulled in an audible, ragged breath, capturing Rebecca’s attention once again. She knew he was in pain, yet he kept tossing worried, determined glances at the back door. Did he think the threat had followed him here?

Oh, Edward, what’s wrong with you? What’s happened to turn you into a stranger so quickly?
The brother she knew would never get into a fistfight.

Cautiously, she dabbed at his lip.

He drew back with a hiss of pain.

“That’s what comes from fighting.”

He didn’t confirm or deny her suspicions. Nor did he make eye contact with her.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” she asked.

“I…” He clamped his lips shut, then leaned an elbow on the table as if his weight was too heavy for him to hold up on his own anymore.

Rebecca knelt in front of him and placed her hands on his knees. “Edward, please. Tell me who did this to you.”

At last, he looked directly at her. She gasped at what she saw in his eyes. Sorrow, guilt and unprecedented anger.

His fight had been about her.

Oh, Lord, please no. Not that. Let me be wrong.

Even though she dreaded what his answer would be, she needed confirmation. “You were defending my honor, weren’t you?”

His gaze darted to the back door again.
“Ja.”

“Oh, Edward. Who did you fight?”
Not Pete. Please, not Pete.

He mumbled his response, but she caught enough of what he said to send a wave of panic shooting past the last threads of her remaining calm. “
Which
Tully?”

He shuffled his feet again. “All three.”

“You fought all three Tully brothers?” She gripped her throat and stumbled away from him. “By yourself?”

He nodded, but his gaze was remarkably unrepentant.
“Ja.”

The situation had gone far beyond anything she could have imagined. Gossip was one thing. Her ruined reputation a mere inconvenience compared to this. Edward had been beaten up defending her honor against three—
three!
—bullies.

What if one of the Tullys had carried a gun? Or a knife? Would she be preparing Edward for his funeral? The idea was too terrible to contemplate.

Yet, she had to face the truth. Edward could have been killed today—because of her.

Closing her eyes a moment, Rebecca called upon her favorite verse from the Book of Joshua, the one she’d
recited over and over throughout her travels from Norway to America.
Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid.

She knew what she had to do. Her pride no longer mattered. Her reputation wasn’t important, either. This was about protecting her only living relative as best she could.

Rebecca stared down at her brother as an uncomfortable silence hung between them. They were both breathing hard.

Thankfully, Mrs. Jennings returned and Rebecca shifted her gaze to the woman. “Can you serve supper without me tonight?” she asked. “I have someone I need to…find.”

Eyes filled with concern, Mrs. Jennings looked from Rebecca to Edward and then back to Rebecca again. “There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

Rubbing her palms together, Rebecca lifted her chin at a determined angle. “Nothing I can’t fix with a short conversation.” And an equally short ceremony.

“Well, then, by all means, dear. Do what you have to do.”

Edward grabbed her arm. “You don’t need to go to him, Rebecca. Pete’s coming for you on his own. Tonight.”

“Pete’s coming here? Tonight?” Her heart skipped a beat. “Then he knows about your fight?”

“He broke it up.”

“Oh, Edward.” Her knees threatened to give way, but she refused to collapse into a heap of nerves.

“He said to put on your prettiest dress,” Edward added.

“Yes, of course.” Her tone came out flat. There were just too many emotions to sort through to give into any one of them.

“Yes, of course?” Edward lifted a single eyebrow. “You have nothing more to say than that?”

She shrugged. What else could she say? Pete was coming
to propose. Only this time, it wouldn’t matter what words or what tone he used. Edward’s safety was all that mattered.

A wave of sadness flooded through her. All her dreams of a happy future with a man who loved her solely for herself were disintegrating.

Her choice of a husband was no longer hers to make. Marriage to Pete was inevitable now.

But, maybe, if she dug deep enough, all the way down to a hidden spot in the back of her soul, she might be able to find a spark of hope waiting to ignite. A small, tiny thread of anticipation that had her wishing the inevitable didn’t have to be a bad thing. Maybe,
just maybe,
God had a plan she couldn’t discern just yet.

Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid.

Shoulders back, Rebecca forced a smile on her lips and addressed Mrs. Jennings. “Will you stand with me at my wedding?”

“Oh, my dear. Of course.” Tears filled the woman’s eyes. “I would be honored.”

Rebecca touched her brother’s shoulder. “I’ll go change now. Send someone to find me when Pete arrives.”

“No need.” His gaze locked onto something behind her. “He’s already here.”

Pete was here? Now? A flutter captured her heart. She wasn’t ready to see him. She wasn’t prepared. She wasn’t calm.

It didn’t matter.

Pivoting quickly around, she faced the man who would soon be her husband. Her breath clogged in her throat.

Pete Benjamin looked…
magnificent.

His hair was still damp at the edges, indicating that he’d
washed before coming to her this time. But more shocking than that, he was wearing…he…was…wearing…

A suit.

A freshly pressed solid-black suit with a crisp white shirt and a green brocade vest. There was no neck cloth tied at his throat, but a gold watch fob dangled from the center button of his vest to a small pocket on his right side.

He should have looked ridiculous. Or at the very least uncomfortable.

But, instead, dressed in his fancy clothes, Pete Benjamin looked big and masculine and so very,
very
handsome. A tower of strength encased in wool and crisp linen.

In that moment, Rebecca knew she was making the right decision. With Pete, she would be safe. Safe from gossip. Safe from men like the Tully brothers. Safe. Always safe.

It wasn’t the same as love, or even affection, but she knew it could be worse. Much worse.

Tears blurred her vision before she blinked them away and lowered her gaze to the clump of flowers Pete strangled in his right hand. She could tell he’d gathered the colorful array of wildflowers himself. A few stems still had their roots hanging ragged at their tips.

What a dear, dear man.

With slow, methodic steps, he came toward her, his eyes never leaving her face. And then…

He lowered to one knee.

Smiling sweetly, he thrust the makeshift bouquet at her. “These are for you.” His voice came out gravelly, with an edge of tenderness that sent her heart kicking against her ribs.

“They’re…they’re…” She touched a fingertip to the corner of her eye and sighed. “Really quite lovely.”

Fingers shaking, she took the bouquet and buried her nose in the blossoms.

Taking her free hand in his, Pete pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles. “Rebecca.” He looked back into her eyes. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Unable to catch a decent breath, Rebecca shot a quick glance at her brother. Her gaze fell onto his split lip, the harsh physical reminder nudging her in the proper direction.

Squaring her shoulders, she turned her attention back to Pete. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you. As soon as possible, please.”

Two hours after Pete’s second—and final—proposal, Rebecca eyed High Plains’s only church from the bottom of the boardinghouse steps. Situated directly across the street, the modest structure seemed to sleep contentedly under the indigo sky. Moonlight polished a row of square-paned windows into clear, sparkling diamonds.

The building practically glowed, beckoning Rebecca forward. To her new life.

Her heart filled with a fierce longing. Would this marriage be the best decision of her life? Or the worst?

“Let’s go.” Edward took her elbow and attempted to guide her across the street. They stumbled and staggered a few steps until Rebecca took charge. She ducked under his right arm and did most of the guiding while her injured brother did a considerable amount of leaning.

Mrs. Jennings’s worried gaze met Rebecca’s before shifting to the church up ahead. “My dear boy, are you sure you can make it up those steep steps?”

A pained smile twisted his lips. “I will not miss my sister’s wedding.”

“Of course you won’t.” Mrs. Jennings’s nod held the perfect amount of understanding. Thankfully, one of the other boarders was watching little Alex, freeing the woman for most of the night. Rebecca was grateful for her presence. She needed a friendly face now more than ever, and there hadn’t been time to send for Emmeline or Cassandra.

With each step, Rebecca kept her gaze glued on the church. Conscious of the sidelong glances Edward dropped on her, she tried to ignore the sorrowful look in his eyes, a look that seemed to say he regretted forcing her into this marriage.

But what could he have done? What could any of them have done? Matilda Johnson’s gossip had set events into motion. Edward’s fight with the Tullys had only hastened the inevitable. Rebecca just prayed her marriage to Pete would end the worst of the gossip, thereby erasing most of the danger to Edward.

“I wish there’d been time to have Mrs. Morrow make you a new dress,” Edward said in a halting tone.

Rebecca’s heart wrenched at his words. She’d put on the nicest dress she owned. Unfortunately, the soft blue calico was rather simple with its long, narrow sleeves, modest neckline and flared skirt that billowed to the ground from its fitted waist. As a sentimental gesture, she carried her mother’s lace kerchief. Rebecca had sprinkled the tiny piece of material with lavender water. Her mother’s favorite.

“Not to worry, Edward.” She patted his arm, trying not to show any disappointment in her gaze. Mrs. Morrow was a brilliant seamstress. A dress from her shop would have been a lovely item to own. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think it matters what I wear.”

He looked ready to argue, but they’d come to the bottom of the church steps. Navigating the stairs took all his effort.

Once they entered the building, the sound of their footsteps echoed through the deserted church. The interior was illuminated with a few flickering candles, enough to light their way down the center aisle.

Edward leaned over and kissed Rebecca on the cheek before collapsing onto the front pew with a soft groan. He closed his hand over hers to keep her from moving away from him.

“This is the right decision,” he said. “Pete will make you a proper husband.”

Rebecca sighed. Of course Pete would make her a proper husband. But would that be enough? He was a complete stranger to her, a man she’d barely spoken to since their time in his storm cellar. And even less before that.

How could she ever hope to replace Sarah in his heart? Did she even want to? She found him attractive, yes, but events had moved so quickly today. She hadn’t had time to think through all the consequences.

What did she really know about her future husband? He was good to Edward, and paid him a fair wage, but did that guarantee he would be a decent husband, as well?

Biting her bottom lip, she turned at the sound of creaking door hinges. Her groom entered the church with Reverend and Mrs. Preston flanking him on either side.

In the flickering candlelight, Pete’s expression was cast in shadow. But as he drew nearer, Rebecca could see that his features were set in an overly serious frown, with dark determination staring out of his eyes. This ceremony
would
take place. That much, she read in his gaze.

Pete Benjamin might be a man who kept his emotions closely guarded, but she’d seen below his mask on more than one occasion. He would not allow gossip to hurt her anymore.
He was too much of a gentleman to let the evil words continue. She trusted him to protect her from any danger.