Then Came You: A Prequel to The McPhee Clan (16 page)

"I don't know my future." Even as she resisted it, the doors on her heart eked open, the truth, so tender and vulnerable, needing to be said. "I care about you so much, Gil. More than myself, more than my life. I love you so very much. If I say no, then I hurt you. But if I say yes, I know I'll lose you. Nine years is a long time, and I don't think I could bear losing you. I just don't think I could."

She bowed her head, ashamed of her weakness for him, for a love so strong it had overthrown her heart, seized every piece of her soul.

"I see." Kind, those words. That was Gil, always kind, even when he had to be sensible, responsible, do the right thing. At least now he could see what the right thing was.

He brought her hand to his cheek, pressed it there for a moment, as if he finally understood there was no solution, no real way for their love to work out. Wrapped up in her own heartbreak, in the wrenching realization that she would never know the pleasure of being his fiancé, the thrill of being his wife, the happiness of raising a family with him, she didn't notice the ring he'd slipped onto her finger until the warm band of gold he'd taken from his pocket encircled her left fourth finger.

"This is the kind of love that lasts. Just let yourself believe." He leaned forward, brushed her cheek with the sweetest kiss. The truth lit his eyes, revealed his devotion to her, without end. "There is no way you're losing me, Sunshine. I'm sticking like mud to your shoe."

"Funny. I'm not fond of mud." She reached out, let her hand rest on the firm span of his shoulder, felt the change, the belief begin to fill her heart. This really was happening, his love for her was strong. As strong as her love for him.

Invincible.

"It's a metaphor," he told her, leaning in, the corners of his mouth crooking up into a dashing smile. "Maybe not the best one, but I'm a cowboy, not a poet."

"You're certainly no poet." She found herself leaning in too, needing him, dreaming of him. "Good thing too, as I'm fond of cowboys."

"Lucky me." He kissed the ring on her finger. His commitment to her the most tender thing she'd ever seen. "I'm going to love you forever."

"That's how I will love you, too." The ring on her finger was real, the dream of Gil Blackburn was hers. He wasn't going to let her go, he would wait for her. This was a solution she could live with. True love was sacrifice, and it was patience and it was forever. She read that all in his eyes, felt it in his heart. He would wait for her, and then they would be happy. So, so happy. She blinked through her tears. "Yes, Gil. I'll marry you."

"Good. Hope you know that I believe in long engagements," he teased, his lips hovering over hers. "Nine years sounds about right."

"That will give me plenty of time to plan our wedding," she joked right back, laughing when their lips met, when he kissed her with all the love in his heart.

That's how she kissed him too, with all the love in hers.

Three weeks later

"Hey, Maebry!" Sarah Combs called out from across the street as she sashayed merrily down the boardwalk in front of the feed store. "You look like a happily engaged woman."

"That's because I am," Maebry called back as she tied Phil's reins to the hitching post. She squinted through the sun, so bright and hot on this late May day. "You look thrilled school is out for the summer."

"Totally thrilled. I'm free!" Sarah held up a package. "Just bought the makings for a new hat. Got to keep busy."

"I want to see it when you're done." Maebry gave Phil a pat before hopping onto the boardwalk.

"I will!" Sarah promised and waved goodbye.

Feeling happy, truly happy, Maebry headed straight for Gunderson's Mercantile. The blazing heat, the chirp of birds, the better working conditions at the ranch were all a factor. Being engaged to Gil was another—and the biggest reason she was happier than she'd ever been.

The bell above the mercantile door chimed as she swished inside. Her new shoes tapped their way across the floorboards, light as air, as Gemma looked up from the counter.

"Why, you look positively radiant." Gemma flushed pink with happiness for her friend, bringing out her own quiet beauty. "Must be that pretty ring on your finger."

"Yes, the man who gave it to me has nothing to do with it," she joked.

"Yeah, I didn't think Gil had anything to do with that grin of yours." Gemma set down her pencil, closed her account book and circled around the front counter. She looked elegant and handsome in a rose colored dress. "Have you heard any word from Maureen's heirs?"

"No, but Nate wrote them immediately." She played with the sash on the new dress her fiancé had bought for her. "Gil is ready to pack up and follow me if it comes to that."

"That Gil is a keeper." Gemma smiled fondly, the happiness in her eyes was one of a true friend. "This is going to work out all right for you. I just know it, you wait and see. Now, what can I help you with?"

"We need more coffee." Maebry hated the money situation Maureen had left them in, so she hesitated in heading for the first aisle. "I know the ranch's account is past due. How much credit are you willing to give us?"

"Enough to keep you and those cowboys in coffee." With a shrug, Gemma headed in the opposite direction. "It will work out with Nate handling the estate.
Oh,
no
. Duck and hide while you can."

"Why? What's wrong?" Maebry peered up the aisle, her stomach dropping at the sight of Gemma looking like a deer staring at the business end of a hunting rifle. Only one man could bring on that panicked look.

The bell above the door chimed like a musical death knell. A man entered the door and swept off his bowler, his gaze arrowing straight to Gemma. "Why, don't you look beautiful today, my lady? Like a breath of spring."

"Lawrence. Welcome to my family's store." Like a soldier ready to dash into enemy fire, Gemma straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin a notch and marched forward, her petticoats snapping. "What do you need today?"

"I'm not quite happy with my usual kind of tea." Lawrence's tenor held a note of adoration as he splayed his hands on the front counter, settling in like a man intending to stay awhile. "Perhaps you could suggest something new?"

Poor Gemma, Maebry thought as she peered between the shelves. At least she was safe from him now that she was officially off the market, thanks to Gil. She studied the section of coffee beans, debating. She'd better bake him some more cookies in gratitude.

The bell above the entrance chimed again. This time, little tingles shivered down Maebry's neck. Her heart opened the way a rose in springtime did, always blooming, always maturing. She peered between the shelves again, eager to drink in the sight of the big, strong cowboy moseying his way toward her with the confident strike of his boots.

Spotting her, he winked, his grin dominating his face, carving pleasant little crinkles around his adoring eyes.

"Gil." She breathed his name, felt the impact of it in her soul. "What are you doing here?"

"Got a note from Nate to drop by his office and see him." Gil strolled around the end of the aisle. Oh, he looked good. Tanned from the sun, rugged from the demanding work on the ranch, relaxed, as if he didn't have a single worry. "I have good news."

"Good news?" She nearly dropped the ten pound burlap sack of coffee beans she'd reached for. Luckily Gil leaned in, stole it from her and grabbed her free hand. "He heard from Maureen's heirs."

"The granddaughters." Maebry nearly stumbled. She'd gone numb all over, weak in the knees. "The McPhee sisters."

"Yes, they sent a telegram. Very thoughtful of them, considering." He held up the bag of coffee beans to Gemma so she could tally it in her book and opened the door.

She stepped through it, the blood in her veins jumping all over the place. So anxious, her feet didn't seem to be working properly. Somehow she stumbled onto the boardwalk, into the sweet caress of warm sunshine and the fresh, temperate breeze.

"They want me to move to Chicago, don't they? It won't be so bad. Really." She blew out a breath, wished she didn't feel lightheaded. Maybe she'd like Chicago. She was glad for Gil's towering presence beside her.

He didn't answer. That couldn’t be a good sign. Instead, he ambled over to the railing, pitched the coffee bag gently into the back of the waiting wagon (yes, it had been freed from the mud mire by some of the ranch hands). Phil switched his tail, gave an annoyed nicker at being ignored, because Gil turned away from him, reaching for Maebry, holding her hands gently in his own.

Joy flickered in his bright blue eyes. His grin widened, dimples bracketed his mouth. "There will be no Chicago. You get to stay right here."

"In Bluebell?" She blinked, disbelieving, shaking her head, wanting to jump up and down. "Really? Are they coming here to the ranch?"

"I don't know, that wasn't mentioned. Just your contract. I have more good news." The rumble of Gil's laughter said everything. Bright, jubilant, full of bliss. "Nate wrote to them about you, of course, and suggested that they forgive the debt. They agreed to it, Maebry."

"They
what
?" Surely she hadn't heard him right. Who wouldn't want a free servant to cook and clean for them? She shook her head, saw that he was still grinning, that she hadn't imagined it. "You're not teasing me, are you? You mean that they've let me go, that I'm f-free?"

Even saying the word felt like a release. Gil was nodding, his happiness told her it was true, it was just so hard to process. Her life was really her own? Joy burst through her, a state of rapturous happiness that she'd never known before.

"It's really over." What glorious, wonderful words. "I can't believe it. I mean, I can do anything I want. I could work anywhere, do anything."

"Like marry me." Laughing, Gil pulled her into his arms, folding her against his hard chest. "I know you had your heart set on a long engagement, but considering this new turn of events, we could shorten it up a bit. Maybe get married in a couple of months."

"Months?" She tilted her head back, grinned up at him, so happy she was laughing too. She just couldn’t stop. Just like she couldn't stop teasing him. "Oh, I don't know. That seems awfully fast. Don’t rush me, Gil."

"I know how you feel," he joked, planting a kiss on her forehead. "I'm not the kind of man you can tie down, I like to roam, but considering this opportunity, maybe I can make the sacrifice."

"Gee, then maybe I could be talked into it, too." She was laughing when he kissed her left cheek, then her right, then he dropped a sweet kiss on her nose. "I'm thinking August will give me enough time to make a wedding dress."

"Good. Then tie me down in August." He cradled her chin in his hand, peered down lovingly into her eyes. When their gazes met, it was like their souls touched. He smiled. "Tie me down forever."

"I like the sound of that." She went up on tiptoe and brushed her lips across his. The sun chose that moment to brighten, spilling over them like a promise of happiness to come. A wonderful wedding, a happy marriage, a life lived together laughing all the way. Forever was right now, this very moment. She closed her eyes, gave in to his kiss, and let herself dream.

Rain sluiced down Daisy's cheeks and stung her eyes as she spotted two faint lights hovering in the darkness behind her. The wind whipped against her, and she felt every mile of the wide open plains. There were no lights from a nearby house, no one to hear her scream for help. As a city girl from the streets of Chicago, she felt out of her element, vulnerable and too isolated as the lights became closer. She could see the lanterns on the support posts of the covered buckboard.

Maybe whoever that was holding the reins of that horse coming their way could be an outlaw or a bandit or worse. Her heart dropped as the horses plodded to a stop.

"Hi there, Miss." A deep voice spoke from the shadows of the vehicle. "Looks like you've got a problem."

"Just a broken axle."

"I'd say that's a problem." The springs of the buckboard squeaked slightly and a shadow emerged. A big shadow. Mile-wide shoulders. Powerful masculine strength. He towered a good foot above her. The lantern light reflected on the gun holstered to his hip and thigh. A big handgun.

She gulped. Definitely an outlaw. Her blood turned to ice. "We don't have anything of value."

"Don't be afraid. I'm not here to rob you. I'm here to help." His stride was easy, not predatory, and the darkness favored him, as if doing its best to keep the lantern light from finding him. She heard more than saw him kneel down to look at the axle.

"Sorry to tell you this is no easy fix." He rose and his boots splashed in the mud in front of her. His presence blocked the stinging rain. "You must be Maureen's granddaughter."

"How did you know?"

"Five women traveling alone in these parts is one clue. Five city women. With folks in town gossiping the way they are, it's an easy guess." His voice turned to warmed molasses, rich and deep and inviting. "Maureen is long since buried."