Marrying Minda (8 page)

“Brix...” Jake hesitated a bit. “Making Silly our own was never my idea. I had no part in Gracey cooking up such a scheme.”

“I figured that. But sometimes folks keep secrets. We did it to Minda. You, me, and Norman Dale agreeing I should wed up with her right off.”

“We did the right thing, Brix,” Jake said, drawing breath deep inside, then blowing it right out. “Your deathbed vow to Norman Dale is a sacred trust. You aren't regretting it, are you?”

Well, he didn't want a wife, but the memory of her sweet kiss and hot body sure made him imagine possible delights.

“Hell, no,” he said. “The kids need her, and I won't be around. Minda's got what she came for, a house and family. But she said you and I committed a sin of omission. I remember catechism class. That wasn't a good thing back then.”

“Since when did any kind of sin fret you?”

“Never. I'm bound for hellfire, to be sure.”

Jake's friendly snort interrupted Brix's dark thoughts. “You're a good man, Brixton Haynes.”

“Try telling my wife,” he said. “She's already yapping at me to call the baby Priscilla, not Silly. Don't approve of me at all, I can tell.”

“Minda's a good woman to take you on.”

“What?” Brix looked sideways at Jake, disbelieving. She hadn't done any such thing. It was him who'd done all the sacrificing. She had wanted to get married. He hadn't.

“Well, think about it. The noon's stage has come and gone. And she wasn't on it.”

Brix opened his mouth then shut it quick, afraid he might let a cuss slip. Of course Minda wasn't on the stage. But she wasn't staying because of any goodness in her dark heart. She
owed
him. He couldn't confess their unholy alliance to Jake. Not in the house of God at least.

Both men turned toward a commotion at the tall entry doors. From the gun belt and star, Brixton knew the newcomer was a lawman.

“Brixton Haynes, here's the new county sheriff, Robert Pelton,” Jake said.

The sheriff tipped his hat. “Call me Bob. Sorry to miss your nuptials, Brixton. Had a ruckus over in Monroe yesterday.” He stared Brixton up and down like he was a new mutt in town who needed to be sniffed up, then tipped his hat again. “I just got word the Perkins Gang's been sighted in Norfolk. Preacher, me and you can pass the news along in town. Brixton, maybe you can let the out-of-towners know on your way home.”

“The Perkins Gang? Whew.” Brix exhaled. He knew of the real-life troublemakers who'd become heroes in dime store novels. He hated folks thinking such antics were nothing but boyish larks. These were grown men who took what wasn't theirs. “Thought they worked Missouri and Kansas.”

Sheriff Pelton grunted. “Must have run out of horses to steal down there. Thanks, fellas.” He gave a short wave and left.

For a second, the sheriff's words stayed on Brixton's mind. Was the family he'd taken on in any kind of danger? So far, the men in the Perkins gang weren't killers, but Norman Dale had two fine geldings and a good draft horse. And no money left behind to buy more.

Then there was Minda, a citified female who likely didn't have the faintest idea how to protect herself.

He sighed aloud, thinking of the kids, too. He grabbed Jake's broom. He needed a few minutes to settle his thoughts, maybe to hear some Gospel to save his sorry soul. Besides, the Perkins gang didn't have gumption enough to strike during daylight. “Go on, go practice your preaching. I'll get this finished up.”

“What? Brix Haynes doing women's work?”

Brixton gave a snort. Already today he'd milked a cow, scoured a pot, cooked up grits and coffee, and washed a batch of reeking laundry. He'd done every womanly thing but change the baby's sopping britches.

And, of course, do one's spousal duty.

“If you only knew,” he said dryly. “Anyways, I'm leaving before sun-up on Sunday, and I'll miss your oration. Might as well let me hear it now.”

Jake held tight to the broom handle. “You sure?”

“About what? Hearing your sermon? Not so much. About leaving? I'm sure as hell. That was the bargain. Remember?”

Jake's mouth opened, but Brixton tipped an uncouth salute and left. Suddenly he wasn't in the mood for any kind of Gospel about Jake's second thoughts. Brixton sure as hell wasn't having any. No matter that Minda was beautiful and his lawful wife. When he mounted Norman Dale's horse, his manhood swelled at his thoughts of her. Truth to tell, the pressure of the saddle made him wish he was riding his bride.

Yep. His thoughts were crude. Add another sin to his list. That icehouse better have a nice big block to cool him down. Smacking at a mosquito, he cussed a streak, but at himself, not the bug.

Before he left this town, he had to warn his neighbors and teach his wife to use a gun.

Storm clouds collected overhead but passed by on a high wind. There'd be more, though. Weather in Nebraska changed every five minutes. And he hoped Ahab Perkins and his renegades passed by just as soon.

Brixton Haynes had a train to catch.

* * * *

“Can you shoot? You keep a knife in your boot?” Brixton stomped through the backdoor and stored the ice. All the warnings he'd passed out along the way home had made him nervous. After all, thugs changing their territory might be changing their tactics.

Brixton had half-expected an empty corral and a battered family and felt a stab of relief. But even though things seemed peaceful enough today, he had to do what he could before he left to make sure Minda could keep the kids and herself from trouble.

“What are you on about, Mr. Haynes? And please keep your voice down. You'll wake the baby.” She got up from shelling peas to frown like a regular wife. Looked like she wore a prettier gown than he'd seen that morning. Her hair hung loose, almost to her waist, and like yesterday, he wanted to gather it in his hands like a thirsty man chugged water to his dying mouth.

“She feeling better?” He noticed a pretty posy of wildflowers smack dab in the middle of the eating table. Damn, had she gone wandering about picking flowers instead of doing her duties?

“She's sleeping now, and I think much better. I took her for a little stroll along the road.” She gave him a glare as though daring him to disagree. “I don't hold with sick folk being cooped inside in dank, stale air. Whether or not Priscilla has caught an infection, the outdoors is sure to have some sort of healing effect on her.”

He tightened his teeth. Would she ever stop preaching? Sounded worse than Jake. Brixton was a man who spent most every living minute in the outdoors. He of all people knew of its powers. Fine then, that she'd taken a few moments to brighten her day with some of nature's floral bounty.

“And I don't care whether or not you agree,” she said, sniffing. “You'll no doubt carp at me whatever I do.”

“Not so, Miz Haynes,” he said. He hated feeling charitable, but he figured she had a right to be peevish, her life not turning out as she'd planned, and spending her sleeping hours tending a sick child.

“Thank you, Mr. Haynes. Now what's this nonsense about guns and knives?”

“No nonsense at all. I'm asking if you know how to use them.”

“Well, certainly not, Mr. Haynes. I make hats. I come from Gleesburg, a most civilized village outside Gettysburg.”

“Yes, ma'am. I know all about your civilized nature.” He glared back and felt his mouth slip into a triumphant little grin as he recalled her hot and willing lips for that split second last night. Wondered how he'd be feeling today if they had made their wedding night real. Would he feel regret? Satisfaction? Victory?

She blushed, and he felt a bit of a coup. Right now she was surely remembering her time on his bedroll just like he was. God in heaven, he enjoyed the look of her, blushing at the memory.

Then a powerful thought hit. The Perkins gang might well see fit to expand their ill-gotten rewards to include pretty women just like his wife.

“I ask a good question of you, Miz Haynes. There's been outlaws spotted not fifty miles from here.”

“Outlaws?” Her voice was a whisper, a whisper that ought to come from those sweet lips breathing his name in the dark.

“Yep. Ahab Perkins and his gang.”

Her eyes were bright and wide as full moons, her face just as white. “Why, I read about them. On my travels. They're outlaws, but gentlemen.”

“Those dime novels are miserable trash, Miz Haynes. No gentleman steals what isn't his to take. And...” He slowed down and pinned her gaze to his. “Around here, horse thieving's a hanging offense.”

“But these are farmers around here.”

Disgust tightened his lips. “Farmers have good horses, Miz Haynes. Like my brother's. Now, I guess that means you don't know how to keep yourself and the kids from harm?”

“How dare you, Mr. Haynes? I think I've shown that the welfare of these children means a great deal to me. Despite your payback.” Her pansy eyes turned hard and black, but her voice trembled. “Norman Dale thought I was perfectly qualified in that regard. He never mentioned that I had to be a gunslinger as well.”

It bothered him to hear his brother's name, especially from those lovely lips. He hadn't thought of Norman Dale much at all today, and neither of them seemed to be grieving for him. Maybe if he recalled that she'd come here to be nothing but his sister-in-law, he could squash his desire like a bug.

Sure would make leaving easier.

“So I guess that means you're a gunslinger,” she said, her tone accusing.

“I know how to use a piece, that's a fact. There's rustlers along the trail, Miz Haynes, and diamondbacks. And once in a while a prairie chicken to hunt. But I never kill for joy. Now come outside and I'll show you a trick or two.”

“But I...”

“Now, Miz Haynes. That's an order whether you like it or not.”

Her mouth opened, and he longed to kiss it closed. Couldn't help himself. It's just what she did to him. The bug squashing was harder to do than he thought. Just like yesterday at church, he took her hand to lead her off into something she'd never done before. He almost trembled. How the hell could he teach her how to aim, him prickling like a schoolgirl?

Out by the fence posts where he'd lined up a row of bottles and cans, he showed her his Peacemaker and how to cock it. Then he stepped back and sighted, drawing her against him. Her softness and that smell of roses with his fingers around a gun was a strange mix.

“Likely this will take some practice,” he said softly. “But I don't think I could leave without you knowing a little something. Just never leave a gun where the kids can find it.”

He expected angry eyes to take him like fingernails, but she spoke in that same whisper that now almost sent him to his knees. “I'm a fairly smart woman, Mr. Haynes. You can trust me.”

Trust. He shot and missed, cursed. Felt like a fool. Like he'd trusted Esperanza? But wasn't his own dishonesty just as bad? He had led Minda to the altar under false pretenses. And even now, he knew his brother had wanted a wife because he was dying.

“I think you're right, Mr. Haynes.” She smiled, leaning into him. “A lot of practice. There's so much around here I need to learn.”

Her eyes were bright. He was no womanizer, but he took a gamble that he knew the look. Wasn't this invitation pure and simple?

He holstered the gun and bent down to her. The moment before a kiss was almost the best, imagining what was to come. Her scent and warmth surrounded him, and for a second, there was nobody but the two of them in the whole wide world.

So close he could taste her breath, he grabbed a length of her hair and brought it to his mouth first. Tasted like roses. She was so close...

“Uncle Brix. Come quick. I think I heard a gun.”

Damn.

“No, no, Neddie. That was me.” Reluctant but relieved, he let go of his wife. Ned's timing was just right. Brixton Haynes had been about to do something he shouldn't.

* * * *

Over her mending, Minda looked nervously out the window, but the darkness was complete. Through the windbreak of trees, she couldn't see lights from even the nearest farmhouse. Never before in her life had she been so far from other living folks.

Her husband had made no secret of the fact he was leaving. Leaving her and the children alone. The nightfall was hot and humid and who knew what lurked out in it? More contagion?

Horse thieves?

At least for now he sat across from her, singing Priscilla a lullaby. He promised he'd never leave without kissing her good-bye. So what should she make of the almost-kiss? Did it mean he'd changed his mind?

Of course not. He'd never made it a secret that he was going. Besides, he hadn't looked her in the eye the whole rest of the day. He regretted it. Of that she had no doubt.

Even though he'd seemed to want the kiss as much as she did, at first anyway.

At least the lovely bunch of wildflowers in the center of the table kept her spirits up while she'd busied herself with supper and the fidgeting baby. She'd noticed them earlier in the day, long before the almost-kiss. Brixton must have plunked them in a crock of water behind her back before going to town.

Strange man, her husband. Guns and wildflowers.

But even a gun didn't help. How could she be anything but afraid? The baby wasn't well. There wasn't any money, and now she had to worry about outlaws.

If outlaws peeked in those windows, they would see nothing but a normal family. Her breath caught, and she got up to close the curtains. No matter that the fresh air wouldn't flow as freely.

What matter that he promised to send money? Children needed a father, too. She'd learned that from raising her sisters all alone. A husband who steered the right course for his family was every bit a man's man as one who stormed the plains guiding horses and cows.

But when she got up to dig through Ida Lou's leftover mending supplies, she reminded herself that she didn't intend to stay, after her payback at least. How could she? This wasn't the life she'd come for. Brixton would simply have to cope without her.

Throughout the day, Katie's
ma'am
had started to sound more and more like
mom
. She couldn't encourage the child. Under no condition could she let the children steal her heart.