The Barefoot Bride (30 page)

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Authors: Joan Johnston

BOOK: The Barefoot Bride
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Ethan found Patch sitting on the back porch. “Hello, there.”

“Sit down, Ethan. I was just counting my marbles. I'm going to have a rematch tomorrow with Whit.”

“I'm sorry I won't be here to see you win,” he said.

“You have to go scouting for wild horses again?”

“No.” He took a deep breath and said, ‘I'm leaving, Patch. For good.”

“But you're Pa's partner. You have a cabin here. You can't leave.”

“I'm a drifting man. And it's time to move on.”

“Why?”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I have my reasons, Patch. I have to go.”

“No you don't!” she said, jerking away from his touch, refusing to be mollified. “You could stay if you wanted to.” She damned her pride and grabbed his shirt in both fists. “Don't leave, Ethan. I love you! Someday I want to be your wife!”

“Dammit, Patch. You don't know what you're saying. You're just a kid!”

Patch recoiled as though he had slapped her.

Suddenly aware that he had hurt her feelings, Ethan sought to mend fences. “You've got your whole life ahead of you, Patch. And plenty of time to find the man who'll be right for you.”

“I don't want anybody else. I want you,” she said stubbornly.

He took her hand and brushed his thumb across her grimy knuckles. “I tell you what I'll do, Patch. I promise someday, when
you're all grown up, I'll come back and find you. If you still think you want to marry me —” He shrugged. “Well, we'll see.”

“Do you promise?” Patch said.

Ethan nodded.

“Cross your heart and hope to die?”

Ethan crossed his heart with his finger.

“Dang it, Ethan, I'm going to miss you so much!” Patch launched herself into Ethan's open arms and hugged him hard enough to last her the long years she would have to wait for him to return.

Patch didn't try to stop the tears.
Ethan was leaving. He didn ‘t believe she loved him. He thought she was just a kid!
Well, she wasn't going to change her mind about marrying him. She would wait a lifetime if she had to! When he came back—Ethan wouldn't dare break his promise—she would be waiting. And she would be his wife.

Ethan handed Patch a handkerchief to wipe her runny nose. She started to hand it back, but he folded her fingers around the wadded-up ball of material. “Keep it for me till I come back.” He stood and said, “Now I have to go say good-bye to your ma.”

“She ain't my—”

“She is. And you're lucky to have her,” Ethan said.

“Maybe I am,” Patch agreed.

“That's the first sign I've seen that you're starting to grow up,” Ethan said. “Now give me another hug and say good-bye.”

Patch put her arms around Ethan's waist and held on until he removed them.

“Good-bye, Patch.”

“Good-bye, Ethan. Don't forget I love you.”

He smiled. “I won't.”

He turned his back on her and walked away.

 

Seth's path back to the house from the barn crossed Whit's door. He knocked, and when Whit called out to him, he stepped inside.

“I thought I'd check to see that you were tucked in for the night.”

“Mother was already here,” Whit said.

“All right. Sleep well, then.”

When Seth turned to leave, Whit said, “I wouldn't mind if you tucked me in too.”

Seth sat down beside Whit and performed what had become a ritual for them over the past weeks. Then he did something he hadn't done before. He leaned over and kissed Whit on the forehead.

Whit stared at him with probing eyes. “What did you do that for?”

“Because I wanted to show that I love you,” Seth said.

“I'm not your son. Why do you care?” Whit challenged.

Seth smiled. “I don't think I can give you a
reason. Love just is. I want to help you grow up to be a good man. And I want you to be happy.” Seth shrugged. “I can't explain it any better than that.”

Whit cleared his throat. “I might love you too.”

Seth smiled again. “I wouldn't mind if you did.” He leaned over and blew out the lantern beside the bed. “Go to sleep, son.”

Whit turned over and did as he was told.

Seth wasn't consciously avoiding the coming confrontation with Molly. But when he headed through the connecting doorway, it seemed a good idea to stop and say good night to Patch and Nessie, too.

The instant he walked through the door, Nessie stood up on the four-poster bed and leaped for him. He barely caught her before she hit the floor.

“Whoa there, girl! What're you doing jumping out of bed like that?”

Nessie wrapped her arms around Seth's neck and laid her head on his chest. “I knew you'd catch me.”

Seth's heart was still pounding from the near miss. “Just give me a little more warning next time,” he said with a chuckle.

Nessie was easy to love, Seth thought, because she gave love so freely. He should have
mentioned that to Whit, but he hadn't thought of it at the time. “It's bedtime, little one. Lie down now and get some sleep.”

He laid her down and pulled the quilt up to her chin, then leaned over and kissed her teasingly on the nose.

Seth looked over at Patch, who was leaning on her elbow watching him. Before Annarose died, when Patch was still a baby, he had spent time with her like this every night. He had forgotten about that until now.

As Seth crossed to Patch, she lay down flat and pulled her own covers up, leaving nothing for him to do.

He sat down beside her anyway. He felt awkward with his daughter, not sure how he should treat her. She seemed too grown up for the kind of teasing he had done with Nes-sie. In fact, the expression on her face dared him to try something like that with her. Which was how he knew that was exactly what he should do.

He leaned over and kissed her on the nose, but as he sat up, he licked his lips. “Mmmm. Those freckles tasted distinctly of brown sugar.”

“Oh, Pa!” Patch said. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“Maybe I was wrong. Let me see.” He kissed her nose again. “Definitely brown
sugar,” he said. “And you know how I love sweets.” He began kissing Patch all over her face, everywhere he could find a freckle.

Soon she was laughing, fighting him off— not too hard—and loving every breathless minute of it.

“What is all the noise in here?”

Seth stopped what he was doing and grinned at Molly, who was standing in the doorway. “I was just kissing all the brown sugar off Patch's face.”

Molly smiled. “Pretty sweet, is she?”

Seth looked at Patch and said, “The sweetest.”

Patch turned a bright shade of scarlet and pulled the covers up over her head. “Paaaa.”

“Come on out, Patch,” Seth whispered to the covers that hid her face.

Only her twinkling blue eyes appeared. “Huh-uh.”

He held up his hand and said, “I promise to swear off brown sugar for the rest of the evening.”

The blanket came down, revealing a shy smile on Patch's face.

Seth carefully tucked the blanket around her as though she weren't already a young woman with budding breasts. “Sleep well, Patch. I'll see you in the morning. I love you.”

He blew out the lantern and joined Molly at the door.

“Good night, Da,” Nessie said.

“Good night, Pa,” Patch whispered. And then, very quietly, “I love you too.”

Seth slipped an arm around Molly's waist and headed for the front door. “Let's go sit on the porch,” he said. “I have some things I want to say to you.”

But when they were settled on the front porch, Molly on the top step and Seth on the bottom, it was Molly who asked the first question.

“Where have you been on the nights when you were supposed to be with Mrs. Gulliver?”

“With Dora Deveraux.”

Molly groaned. “Why, Seth?”

“She was giving me information about where Bassett set up his whiskey-selling operation so the Masked Marauder could raid and destroy it. Also, Bassett had someone in Virginia City tipping him off when miners carrying gold were taking the stage to Fort Benton. He'd leak that information to Black-foot renegades, who robbed the stage. Dora gave me the same information—”

“—so the Masked Marauder could ride to the rescue,” Molly said in amazement.

“There was never anything between me and Dora after I married you.”

‘Tike said he saw you in her bed.”

“There were extenuating circumstances.”

“This I have to hear,” Molly muttered.

“Remember the rumor going around at the christening party that Pike had shot the Masked Marauder?”

Molly nodded.

“Well, he did. I just had a flesh wound, but it was pretty bloody. I couldn't come home to you like that. When Pike showed up at Dora's room, the only excuse I had for being there was that I was making use of her services.”

Molly frowned. “So that's why you grabbed my hand that night when I touched your ribs!”

Seth grinned crookedly. “It hurt.”

“Wouldn't it have been simpler if you'd just explained everything to me in the first place?”

Seth brushed at some dust on the toe of his boot. “I didn't know you very well when I married you, Molly. I had no idea how you'd react if I told you the truth.”

“But later—”

“I couldn't stop until I'd finished the job. I thought you wouldn't worry if you didn't
know the truth. But it looks like you worried anyway. I'm sorry for that.”

“Does what happened to Annarose have anything to do with the Masked Marauder?”

“No.”

“Then why wouldn't you tell me how she died?”

Seth took a shuddering breath and covered his face with his hands. “I didn't want to talk about it.”

Molly scooted down to the bottom step to sit beside Seth. She laid a comforting hand on his knee. “I'm sorry. You must have painful memories. It's none of my business how she died.”

Seth dropped his hands and said, “I shot her. I killed Annarose.”

Seth waited for Molly to cringe away from him. But her hand stayed on his knee, and her eyes never wavered from his agonized face.

He found himself explaining, seeking her understanding and absolution from the horrible nightmare that had plagued him for the past nine years.

“Nine years ago I was a Texas Ranger, Molly.”

“A Ranger!” she exclaimed. “With all that
talk of killing, I thought you'd been an
out-lawl”

“I chased enough of them,” Seth said grimly. “Once I was ambushed, shot in the back by some rustlers and left for dead. An-narose nursed me back to health and never said a word about my quitting the Rangers.

“Not that I would have. I loved the danger. I loved the challenge of tracking down desperados, of pitting my wits against theirs.

“Nine years ago, when Patch was three, I went after some Mexican bandidos who had robbed a stage and killed the driver. There were three of them. They fled toward the nearest town, a place not far from my ranch. It was dark by the time I rode into town. I knew I should have waited till morning. They had the advantage in the dark.

“But one of them started talking to me, taunting me, saying I was chicken-livered, afraid to fight. When I stepped out of the shadows, they were waiting for me.

“If I hadn't tripped, the first shot would have killed me. I fired at the powder flash and killed one of them. Then I heard someone move behind me.

“You don't forget being backshot, Molly. I wasn't about to let it happen again. I turned and fired into the darkness—toward the
noise I'd heard. There was another flash of gunfire in front of me, and I turned and shot at that.

“The next thing I heard was a horse galloping away. I would have gone after him, but I was still shaking. I went to check on the two bodies I'd seen fall. One of the bandidos was dead. The other body—the one behind me— was Annarose.

“I had shot her twice in the chest, but she was still breathing. She was in town to find a doctor because Patch was sick. She'd come running toward me to warn me about the ambush.”

There were tears on Seth's cheeks, and he turned away from Molly to wipe them away with his sleeve.

“It wasn't your fault,” Molly said. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah. I've been telling myself that for nine years. I wanted to die with Annarose. For a couple of months after that, I did my best to get killed. I'm a notorious man in Texas, Molly. An outlaw killer. The meanest, most deadly Ranger around.

“I would probably be long dead now if it hadn't been for Ethan. He convinced me I had something—someone—to live for.”

“Patch,” Molly whispered.

Seth nodded. “I quit wearing a gun and learned how to heal folks instead.”

“So why did you create the Masked Marauder?”

Seth shrugged. “Drake Bassett and his henchman had to be stopped. I didn't want to be known as a gunman, Molly. I didn't want to be dragged back into the life I'd left behind.”

“Did you have to let people think you were afraid to fight?”

He shrugged again. “I couldn't kill anyone else if I walked away.”

Molly put a hand on Seth's cheek, which was rough with a day's growth of whiskers. “As I said once before, you're an unusual man, Doctor Kendrick. And for the record, I love you very much.”

Seth dragged Molly into his arms and hugged her tight. “And I love you.”

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