Whispers on the Wind (A Prairie Hearts Novel Book 5) (28 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

R
everend Wilbrand cleared his throat calling everyone to attention. Hunter stood next to Tabitha at the altar of the small church, ready to become Tabitha’s husband. He’d had the whole night to wrap his head around what was happening. When they’d first met, he’d had the distinct impression she thought him beneath her, and yesterday she’d made it perfectly clear that today was nothing more than a business arrangement. One to correct as soon as her mother went home to New York.

Glancing over his shoulder, he took in the few people in the two front pews. Tabitha’s mother, her aunt, her uncle, and Markus. Thom stood next to him and Hannah next to his bride-to-be. On the other pew, the groom’s side, sat Violet, a sentimental grin pulling her face.

“Are we ready?” the reverend asked.

Hunter and Tabitha both nodded. Her mother hadn’t stopped crying since they broke the news yesterday. The woman had talked faster than an auctioneer, trying to change their minds, but Tabitha was having none of that, which made him proud of her gumption, even if he was a bit put out. They had set their course, and now they would see it through.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re gathered today to witness the marriage of Hunter Wade to Tabitha Canterbury. First Corinthians says that love is patient and kind. It’s not jealous, not pompous, not inflated, not rude. It doesn’t seek its own interest, is not quick-tempered, it doesn’t brood over injury, it doesn’t rejoice over wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” He searched both of their faces. “Love never fails. If you both keep this simple scripture in mind, this will be a long, prosperous marriage.”

Hunter snuck a glimpse at Tabitha, who in turn glanced at him. Did she feel the weight of those words as well?

“If anyone here is in opposition to this marriage, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

The reverend waited so long, Hunter wondered if the man was waiting for Tabitha’s mother to voice her objection. A soft sob was his only reply.

“Get on with it!” Violet huffed.

“Hunter, do you take Tabitha to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Tabitha, do you take Hunter to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward as long as you both shall live?”

Hunter felt her quiver. He waited.

“I do.”

That’s it. He had a wife! She may think this a business agreement, but she was still his wife. What would Thorp have thought of their shenanigans? He’d not like it at all.

“Do you have a ring?”

Hunter shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t.”

“Fine then,” Wilbrand said. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Ignoring the hostility he felt drilling into his back, Hunter gathered Miss Hoity-Toity into his arms and kissed her soundly. A strange feeling of belonging began to register. This was
his
wife, and Logan Meadows was
his
town, not just some place he was passing through. It was heady, and happy, making him kiss her much longer than he probably should have.

Mrs. Hollyhock whooped loudly, bringing Hunter to his senses. When he let Tabitha go, her cheeks were two scalding red patches.

With a hand to their shoulders, Wilbrand turned them to face their guests. “I present you, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter Wade.”

Thom grasped his hand in congratulations. From the corner of his eye he saw Hannah envelop Tabitha in a hug. “Short, sweet, and beautiful, Tabitha,” he heard her friend whisper.

Frank Lloyd came forward with Violet at his side. Behind him came the sisters.

“Congratulations,” Frank said, and seemed to sincerely mean his words.

Holding Marigold’s arm as if the woman were too weak to stand on her own, Roberta watched silently until all the chatter faded away. “Everyone is invited back to Hannah’s house for a late lunch.” She released Mrs. Canterbury’s arm and pulled her kerchief from her bag, then patted her brow. “Marigold and I will go set things out. Be along when you’re ready.”

Tabitha’s mother followed Roberta out the door without one word to her daughter. Hunter had seen her kind many times on the wagon train. Couldn’t see past the noses on their faces if it went against their belief. Sour as week-old milk. Disgusting.

Tabitha hid her feelings well, but her mother’s attitude hurt her. Her usually soft lips were a stiff pink line. Couldn’t the shrew have been nice for one minute of one day?

Lifting Tabitha’s hand, he kissed the back. She looked up at him in question. “Sorry I didn’t have a ring.”

“That’s all right. I hardly expected you to.”

“Let’s give Mother and Aunt Marigold a few moments to get the food out,” Hannah suggested. “I don’t know about you, but it feels nice to have someone else doing the preparations for once. Let’s take a walk down Main Street. This has all happened so quickly, I’m sure the announcement will take most by surprise.”

“I don’t know.” Tabitha fingered the lace on the front of her soft blue dress. “Hunter has the big show tonight. He must have things that need doing at the Bright Nugget.”

“Everything is in order. We made sure of that yesterday.”

“That settles it,” Thom said. “Let’s get a move on. I’m hungry.”

A few minutes later, after the four of them had said their goodbyes to the reverend, and the small group had descended the slight hill, Tabitha felt much like Cinderella the night of the ball. Hunter’s arm was strong beneath her fingers. She was his wife, as well as his business partner, and spinster no more. Feeling too shy to glance up into his face, she kept her gaze trained ahead on the path. Thank goodness Hannah and Thom were doing most of the talking.

On the boardwalk, they stopped to wait for Frank and Violet, who were bringing up the rear.

“You young’uns go on,” Violet said, with a sniff and a nod. She’d had ahold of Frank’s arm as they’d come down the slight rise. “I have things ta do.” She glanced at Tabitha. “It was a ceremony fittin’ a princess, dearie. I’m so happy.”

“You sure, Violet?” She let go of Hunter’s arm to close the distance between them.

“I’m sure. It’s time fer my nap. You all go on.”

“We’ll walk you,” Hunter quickly said.

“Oh, pooh. I don’t need no escort. You all go on now.”

“I’m not going for lunch either, Violet,” Frank said. “And I don’t get out of the bank near enough. I’ll walk you back to the Red Rooster. Think of it as doing me a favor by helping my constitution. And then these young’uns, as you call them, can go celebrate the day away.”

Violet straightened her spectacles with a shaky hand. “When ya put it like that, then fine.”

Uncle Frank leaned in and kissed Tabitha’s cheek. “I’m so happy you picked Logan Meadows to make your home. You brought a sense of excitement to town when you arrived, with your shop and your books, and it hasn’t let up since. And now you’ve gone and tied the knot. I know you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Congratulations.”

His words brought a soft cozy glow. The words and acceptances she wished she felt from her mother and the rest of her family. At least Uncle Frank was on her side. “Thank you, Uncle. Your words mean the world to me.” She chanced a look at Hunter, who was watching the exchange.

He smiled, seemingly pleased by what her uncle had just said. “She’s not going anywhere now, Frank. I’ll make sure of that.”

This was all so new—and strange. Hunter was her husband—in a business sort of way. That thought pricked the bubble of happiness she’d been experiencing for the last hour. She could so easily forget he’d just done this to help her with her mother. Remembering that would be the true challenge.

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

H
unter watched from the back wall of the Bright Nugget, a sea of men in front of him, waiting impatiently for Dichelle to take her final bow. The crowd of men pushed back on him in the standing-room-only saloon. Even though this was his and Kendall’s big moment, all Hunter had been able to think about all night was Tabitha. After the ceremony, they’d spent time with her mother and aunt at the small, quiet reception, struggling to make small talk as her mother looked down her nose at him disdainfully. After about an hour of torture, he and Tabitha had gone to his apartment and collected his few belongings, bringing them over to the bookstore.

Tonight was his wedding night, but he’d not be sharing a bed with Tabitha. She’d shown him to the guest room. It had been less than a day, and he was already confused about what he should do and how he should act when it came to her.

“You done good, Wade,” Albert said, squeezing in at his side. “I’ve never seen this many men in here at one time. Pretty amazing. And everyone is on their best behavior.”

“And I hope they stay that way,” he replied, able to see past a shorter man in front of him. He was glad he’d taken the time and money to build the stage. It had worked out well.

“At a dollar a ticket, you and Kendall have made a boatload of money tonight. And that’s not counting the whiskey and beer you’ll sell.”

“I hope so. We’ve spent a tidy sum bringing this venture together.”

Albert nodded. “I’ll bet.”

There was a murmur from the men up front just as Dichelle took her final bow, and the crush of men leaned to the left, shuffling in the extremely tight space. He and Albert exchanged a look.

This may be good for business, but Hunter felt wary. He didn’t really know why. Caution flashed through him again when the crowd leaned unexpectedly to the right forcing him to catch his balance when he was shoved on the shoulder. Someone shouted out in pain. Kendall, behind the bar, was pouring whiskey into several tumblers on Philomena’s tray, unaware of anything unusual.

Earlier, when the crowd had begun to fill faster than he’d expected, Hunter removed the chairs, stacking them in the alley to make room for more men. Seemed waiting a few days after Dichelle had arrived had given time for the word to spread. The locals were few and far between in a sea of unknown faces. He and Kendall had recruited one of the young locals to help behind the bar so Hunter could remain free, to keep an eye on the fellas. Make sure their merrymaking stayed at that. Dichelle’s safety was his utmost concern. Philomena’s too.

A man grasped the side of the stage and pulled himself up. He yanked Dichelle into his arms. She screamed, struggling to get free as he tried to kiss her. Alarmed, Hunter pushed forward, but was hampered by the crowd.

Gabe, who’d arrived early, claiming a prime spot in front of the stage, climbed up behind the fellow and put a choke hold around his neck, pulling him away.

Dichelle took that moment to dash away, up the stairs.

Albert shouted for everyone to be still, but the pushing had begun. The man who’d started the fuss, plainly inebriated by the way he had trouble standing, was shoved to the platform by Gabe, to a round of applause.

Below, on the floor, a few more punches were thrown amid heated cursing, and shattering glass rent the air. Hunter knew if he didn’t get ahold of the situation quickly, they would have a full-blown brawl on their hands. Reaching the stairs, he took them two at a time until he was on the stage. He pulled his gun and shot into the rafters, being careful to keep his aim away from the second-story bedrooms.

At the deafening roar of his .45 Colt, the crowd fell back and the fighting stopped.

“Hold up!” Hunter shouted. “One man took liberties who shouldn’t have, and now he’s going to jail. Just settle down!” He really didn’t want to break up the party just yet.

Albert pushed in next to him, hardly room with four men on the small stage. Once the handcuffs were set, Gabe hopped off and Albert pushed the offender toward the steps. “I’ll be back just as soon as I lock him up. I’d hate to close this down, but I will if it gets further out of hand.” He paused and looked back at Hunter. “And if you want to be enjoying your wedding night tonight, I’d not shoot your weapon again. That’s against the law in Logan Meadows and I’ll have to lock you up alongside this fellow. Consider yourself warned.”

Hunter nodded and holstered his gun. “Everyone just settle down! Now that the show is over, I’ll bring in a few tables for poker. Farley,” he called. “Get playing!”

Grumbles turned into laughter as the music returned. Hunter watched Albert push his prisoner through the crowd. He wondered if Tabitha had heard the gunshot and was frightened. Was she waiting for him to come home? With this motley group of men, that wouldn’t be for hours.

It was five in the morning, and the sun was about to lighten the sky, when Tabitha heard Hunter use the key in the front door. She’d known last night was the big show, the one he and Kendall had been planning for days. Their wedding was business, so she shouldn’t feel hurt that he’d stayed out all night. That’s what saloon owners did. When the gunshot had gone off around eleven last night, she’d about jumped out of her skin. Then hours had passed without any bad news. She’d finally put down her book and blown out her lamp knowing the counterpane on Hunter’s bed in the guest room was turned down, but sleep eluded her. He’d be in when he was in, and not a moment before.

At four she’d risen and made a cup of tea, bringing it upstairs, and had been reading by the light of her lantern in her bedroom chair ever since. At Hunter’s slow, heavy footsteps on the stairs, she pulled tight her robe sash, listening, wondering.

His door clicked closed.

He’d gone to bed.

She sat for a good ten minutes to be sure he was settled, and then quietly made her way to the first floor. It was a strange feeling having someone else here. Besides the one night Susanna had stayed over when Albert was guarding the million dollars in the bank, he was her only guest. She’d gone to sleep and awoken to her own company every night since she’d moved in. What should she do? Today was Sunday, and they were closed, so she didn’t have to worry about opening the store and making noise that might disturb Hunter.

Gathering a few logs from the basket she kept next to the stove, she put them inside, and then stirred the coals. Rolling paper into balls, she soon had them smoking. Making breakfast for Hunter now would be silly. She was eager, but she’d not be wasteful. Taking the bread she kept in her breadbox, she sliced two large pieces and spread them with butter and jam. She took them to the chair by the shade-covered window and tried to relax. After eating, she cuddled back into the chair with her soft throw to keep her warm. The quiet shop was a blessing. Her lids grew heavy from her lack of sleep the night before. Closing them felt so good.