Forever in Texas Page 5

  “Are you saying I’m not nice or pretty?” Hannah questioned.

  “Oh, no, dear,” Gavrila reassured. “You’re as lovely as Smith told us you were. A bit tall perhaps, but we all have some cross to bear. And you’d have to be respectable or you’d never have been recommended by the agency for an interview to teach.”

  “Then you’re saying Ford was kissing me against my will?”

  Gavrila looked at the minister for help, but the man could have been a pillar of salt for all the assistance he gave.

  “Was he?” Gavrila looked truly puzzled.

  Ford moved to speak, but Hannah cut him off. “No,” she answered. “He most certainly was not.”

  Gavrila was speechless for the first time in her life. She closed her water blue eyes and leaned back with her hands folded over her heart. “Bury me now in an unmarked grave. I’m ready to go, Lord, and I want no one knowing I’m one of the Colstons after this.”

  The reverend moved forward slowly, dismissing Gavrila’s death cry. “Miss Wright, if what you say is true, I see only one way to avoid a scandal.”

  Gavrila began shaking her head, as though it were suddenly loose and she couldn’t control the vibrations. “A scandal is something we’ve never had in Saints Roost, or in the Colston family. I shake to ever guess what my dear dead father would say if he was here to see his son today.”

  The leader of the community looked at Ford with the seriousness of a judge. “Brother Colston, was this woman kissing you against your will?”

  “No.” Ford wished he could be angry or mad or even sorry. In truth, he wished they’d all disappear so he could hold Hannah again.

  “Then bring me my Bible; we’re going to have a wedding right here, right now.”

  “But…” both Hannah and Ford said at once. No one seemed to hear them.

  The reverend dusted the snow from his shoulder, no longer in a hurry now that he’d decided on a plan of action. “We’ll give you a few minutes to ask her proper, Brother Colston, but no matter what you say we’re having a wedding before sundown. Looking at you both, I see you’re adults and should both know what your behavior would lead to.”

  “What?” Hannah whispered, wondering if any of these insane people even knew what year it was. This wasn’t the Dark Ages.

  “Marriage, miss, marriage.” Carhart nodded and all the men silently seconded him. “That’s what what you were doing just now leads to.”

  Ford glanced at the others. Three men were already taking off their coats and rolling up their sleeves. He knew they’d gladly beat him to a pulp, then hold him up for the ceremony if need be. After all, it was their duty as members of the church to help backsliders back to the right path. This was a respectable town like no other in Texas. A man didn’t sit by the fire nearly naked, kissing a woman, unless he wore a band of gold on his left hand.

  Closing his eyes, Ford swore beneath his breath as he never had aloud. If Hannah had only said he’d forced her, at least she would have been free.

  The preacher and his followers moved to the windows, discussing the weather, allowing Ford and Hannah a few moments alone.

  “Don’t worry,” Ford whispered. “If I have to fight every man in this room, including Reverend Carhart, you won’t have to marry me.”

  Hannah felt so sorry for him. He should be mad at her for getting them into this mess, but instead he acted like the horror of the matter would lie in a marriage to him.

  Silently, she slipped her hand into his. “A woman would be honored to be your wife, Ford, but I have to move on. I never plan to belong to any man, and the last place I’ll stay is in Texas.”

  He nodded, but his eyes told her he knew the truth no matter what she said. He somehow believed his sister’s philosophy, that no woman would marry him willingly.

  “You can’t fight these men. What would you do next? Box everyone in town. This is your home. You can’t stand and fight, and you can’t run. I know what it’s like not to have a place to call home.”

  “There’s no other way.”

  “Yes, there is.” She could feel her hand tremble inside his strong grip. “You could marry me.”

  “What?” He looked as if the men had already delivered a blow. She was suggesting they go through with it. His father would be thrown out of heaven for swearing if he looked down now and saw his son thinking of marrying a thief. And his stepmother would go through her dying screams all over again to think that any woman was having to marry her stepson.

  Hannah hurried before she lost her courage. “We could marry, just for a few days, and pretend to be husband and wife to all the town. Next week when everything calms down, I could disappear.” She didn’t want to admit how selfish she was being, but hiding out in Saints Roost would give her time to think of where to go next. And with his last name, she’d be harder to track.

  Ford smiled, but no humor touched his eyes. “They’d think I killed you and hang me by a fortnight if you disappeared.”

  “Then I’ll stay a month, but no longer. And I’d need your word that we’ll be married in name only. Since neither of us ever plans to marry anyway, this ceremony will mean nothing. By early spring we can go our separate ways.”

  He was standing so still, she wasn’t sure he understood. “Look. I need a place to hide and you’re as close as I’ve come to trusting anyone. You need a way out of this mess. My guess is that sister of yours gives you a hard time about not marrying. Well, now you can stop her nagging for good. We’ll marry, then I’ll just disappear one night, and you can dig a grave and visit it weekly just like you were a loving husband.”

  She could tell Ford wasn’t good at thinking up stories, but that had been her main way of surviving during her endless hours of work. “All right, we can tell folks I’m sick and you can take me to Dallas or somewhere to a doctor. In a few weeks you could come back with an empty coffin and bury me. Then folks would feel real sorry and you’d be a widower.”

  “I don’t tell lies,” he whispered, but his words didn’t hold the determination they had only hours before.

  “You wouldn’t have to. Just pretend it is too painful to talk about me, and no one would ever ask.”

  Ford frowned. “Mind if I get the wedding over with before I go to the funeral?” Both were looking to be about as much fun at the moment. “If I agree to this farce of a marriage, I want all the cards on the table right now. It would be worth a great deal to live in peace without everyone looking at me as if I should be pitied for never finding a woman to step out with me. A wife for even a short time might stop all the gossips.”

  Leaning close, he had to ask, “You’d promise to do no robbing while you’re in Saints Roost?”

  His words stung like a slap. She’d forgotten he saw her as a thief. Pulling her hand away from his, she nodded.

  “What else do you want?” he asked. “I seek to be fair with you about this.”

  Before she had time to think, she answered, “On the night I disappear, I’ll take something you value and you must swear you won’t try to follow me to get it back. I won’t take too much, but I’ll need a little help getting settled.” If he was to believe her a thief, she might as well continue the occupation. Whatever she took might help her survive somewhere else.

  Ford could think of nothing he valued more than his land, and she could hardly get it in her carpetbag. He’d let her take the money he kept in his desk at the ranch. He was planning to give her most of it anyway. “Agreed. But don’t bother saying good-bye. We got in enough trouble saying it this time.”

  Hannah offered her hand in a shake.

  “A cat!” Gavrila screamed as Sneeze climbed out of Hannah’s bag and stretched. “I hate cats!” All the men jumped, causing Sneeze to dart behind a chair.

  For several minutes everyone except Gavrila scrambled around trying to catch the calico. When Hannah finally held her cat, the poor animal was in full claw-drawn panic.

  Gavrila cried over and over again about how she hated animals,
proving to Hannah that any woman who could not see the goodness in Ford or like cats must be crazy.

  Ford directed Hannah to the kitchen. “One thing I should tell you about my sister. She has only two levels of volume, hysterical and preachy.”

  “And I should tell you,” Hannah said as she petted her cat slowly with loving strokes while Ford poured milk. “Sneeze is part of the deal. Where I go, he goes.”

  “Fair enough.” Ford offered his arm. “Shall we go get married now, Mrs. Colston?”

  Hannah took his arm, feeling as if she were stepping into another world, if only for a month. “Until the bargain’s end, Mr. Colston.”

  “Until the end,” he agreed, thinking that for one month at least Hannah would be “somebody’s woman.” As far as others would know, she’d be his.

  Chapter 4

  “DEARLY BELOVED…” REVEREND Carhart’s voice rose throughout the little sitting room.

  Ford could feel Hannah’s fingers trembling against his palm. His muscles tightened with the now familiar longing to help her. In many ways she reminded him of a wild creature caught in a trap. Only this time, he realized he was the trap.

  The preacher’s words drifted around Ford, but he wasn’t listening. He was thinking about how selfish he’d been to agree to the marriage. The temporary bond might help her out with a place to stay, but for him it would mean peace for the rest of his life from all the harsh comments folks made behind his back. In a month she’d be on her way and he’d be a respectable widower. The gossips would have little to talk about. When he didn’t go calling on any women, they’d think it was because of the memory of his wife.

  He wanted to tell Hannah, I’ll be good to you this month. I promise. I’ll see that you have proper clothes and enough food. I’ll make sure no one hurts you. But all he said was, “I do,” when the minister looked at him.

  She might be a thief, but no one in town knew that. He’d treat Hannah so good that even Allison Donley would wonder why she hadn’t allowed him to court her. Just as everyone saw only the ugly in him, they were about to see only the beauty in Hannah.

  “You may kiss your bride, Ford,” Carhart said with a chuckle, “just as you were doing when we came in.”

  Ford moved slowly toward her, but she didn’t respond. Hannah was staring at him with a look on her face that said she’d just signed her own death warrant. If he’d thought she was scared before, it was nothing compared to now.

  He lightly brushed her cheek with his lips and whispered, “It won’t be so bad being married to me. I’ll never hurt you and you only have to be around me in public. I’ll stay out of your way the rest of the time; I swear.”

  Hannah wanted to answer that he already had hurt her by seeing her only as a thief, but she had to make this charade work for the next month. Ford was her only hope of being able to hide. She cupped the back of his neck with her hand and whispered, “What should I do?”

  Ford’s warm laughter brushed against her cheek. “Would it be too much trouble to act like you’re happy about the marriage?”

  Without warning, Hannah circled her arms around his neck and hugged him. For a moment, Ford didn’t know how to react. He’d never felt a woman press against the full length of him. When he wrapped his arms around her, he knew they must look happy to the others, but he could feel the stiffness in her embrace. Any warmth he felt from her body next to his was cooled by the knowledge that she was forcing herself to hug him. But he had to make it believable.

  He lifted her off the ground with his hug and swung her around the room, sending delicate furniture tumbling. Gavrila screamed, Reverend Carhart laughed, and several of the other men let out hoots. But Ford buried his face in her hair and crushed her to him, loving the feel of a woman in his arms, if only as a charade.

  When he finally set her on her feet, they were both flushed and laughing. He stared into her eyes, wondering if she’d enjoyed being in his arms a fraction as much as he had liked holding her.

  “Well,” Carhart said as he slapped Ford on the back, “it appears I did the right thing hitching you two up. I wasn’t sure either of you took to the wedding idea, but it’s plain you’re in love and you’ll take to marriage. I wish you many children, Brother Colston.”

  Before Ford could think of anything to say, Gavrila forced her way into the circle of well-wishers. “Don’t be ridiculous, Reverend. How could they be in love? They couldn’t have known one another but for a matter of hours.”

  The reverend patted Gavrila on the shoulder as though she were a child. “It’s not a matter of time with love. I knew I loved my wife the moment I set eyes on her; unfortunately, she hated Texas just as quickly.” He motioned for the other men to follow as he moved toward the door. “We’d best be getting back to our homes.”

  Gavrila followed the men to the entry and closed the front door behind them. She then walked back into the room with her shoulders squared, as if ready for yet another battle. “I suppose you’ll be staying here for the night, and I’ll have to cook you both supper and make out the spare room. Lord knows it’s too bad outside to go find Molly to help me.”

  “No,” Ford answered quietly. “I think I’ll take Hannah home with me tonight. Before we were married she could have stayed with you, but now she’s my wife. As always, I’ll sleep at Canyon’s Rim tonight, and she’ll be with me.”

  Gavrila let out a frustrated sigh. “But the night’s cold and this is, after all, your house.”

  Ford lifted his coat and held it open for Hannah, smiling at his sister as if he could read her mind. “Don’t worry, Gavrila, this will still be your place. I’ve never spent a night under this roof and I don’t plan to now. If we saddle up instead of taking the carriage, we can be home in half an hour.”

  Hannah didn’t say a word. She’d gladly ride hours in the snow to be out of this house. Everything about it seemed perfect, but it didn’t welcome her. Her mother used to tell her stories about how sometimes houses have souls of their own. Hannah didn’t know if she believed such a thing, but she could feel the coldness in the room that no fireplace could warm.

  Ford put on the extra jacket she’d seen hanging in the hallway and crammed his hat low. “While I saddle the horses, see if you can’t find my wife a wool scarf for her hair, Gavrila.”

  Bristling, his sister followed his order in jerky movements.

  He nodded to Hannah and disappeared toward the barn.

  Hannah watched him go, wondering what she could say to the little woman before her.

  Her worry proved pointless, for Gavrila never stopped talking from the time Ford closed the door until they heard his footsteps returning. After very little sleep in days, Hannah didn’t try to remember a word. She had a feeling it would all be repeated. Her new sister-in-law had the irritating habit of starting every sentence with “I.” “I think, I believe, I feel, I probably shouldn’t say anything about this, but.”

  When she heard the horses, Hannah walked out on the porch and raised her arms to Ford, thankful to be leaving the house and the woman. As he’d done before, he lifted her over the steps.

  “Can you ride?” he whispered.

  “A little,” she answered.

  “Then the bay is yours. He’s gentle.” Ford boosted her onto the saddle as if she didn’t weigh more than a doll. “Lucky you have on trousers, for I have no sidesaddle.”

  Hannah felt his gloved hand slide along her calf to her boot and insure her foot was solid in the stirrup. The action was quick, almost impersonal, but his touch affected her as it had before, warming her insides.

  “Don’t forget this thing.” Gavrila tossed the bag from the doorway. When the old carpetbag hit the mound of snow just off the porch, all three heard both her gold bracelets clang and Sneeze meow. “I never liked cats,” Gavrila protested. “Funny little creatures you can’t really own or control.”

  Ford lifted the bag to Hannah. “I’d guess they’re not too fond of you either, dear sister.”

  He tied on
e end of a lead rope to the bay’s bridle and looped the other end over his saddle horn. “Hang on, darlin’!” Ford yelled as he mounted his horse. “We’ll be home soon.” Hannah noticed Ford’s words were directed more toward his sister, who stood with the door open only enough to watch, than to her.

  They rode in the moonlight across virgin snow. The wind whirled around them, building two-foot drifts that looked like tiny mountain ranges over the endless flatness of the great plains. The lights of other homes twinkled across the night, growing farther and farther apart as they rode north.

  The wind seemed to whisper to her, and Hannah smiled, remembering how her mother always told her the wind wanted to dance with her and that was why it pulled at her clothes and whirled around her. She wished the wind were a being and could blow away all tracks she might have left so she’d be safe in Texas a little longer.

  Ford didn’t say a word or even turn around as he picked their path. Hannah wondered if he was regretting not trying to fight his way out of getting married. She knew she was not the kind of woman he would have chosen to marry—even for a month. If he knew more about her, he’d be even less interested in having her as a wife. Her mother had been a Gypsy who lived with a man she loved but never married. When people almost found out they’d had a child, Hannah’s father began to hate her mother and threatened to make sure no one ever learned of her or the baby. So Hannah’s mother had taken a boat one night from New Orleans to Texas, always fearing Hannah’s father might find them. Hannah was raised in ranch kitchens from place to place, never calling anywhere home. She knew nothing of being a lady. She’d never even been in a church, and her little schooling had been at the kitchen table with used books her mother would borrow. How could she ever be a wife to a man like Ford, even for a month?

  Hannah looked up from her thoughts as the land suddenly opened up into a wide canyon, stretching deep into the earth and running for miles as far as she could see in both directions. The winter moon reflected off the snow, making the night seem bright with light. The view was unbelievable, like something you see in a painting but know never exists in the world. Sometime, thousands of years ago, the land must have cracked, splitting a wide rip into the earth, layered in colors of rocks spreading like gaudy bands from a Spanish skirt.