Beneath The Texas Sky (10 page)

Taking a deep breath, Bethanie slowly walked through the dark house to her room. She had to control her fear and think of something.

Welcoming the quiet solitude of her bedroom, Bethanie knelt beside the tiny fire and held her skirt out to dry. The dress was the only thing of value she owned and it had been given to her by a stranger. She looked around the room, watching the shadows of the fire dance across the walls. This might be her last night in this comforting room. The colors had seemed to welcome her before, but now they gave no answer to her problem.
Why couldn’t their warm glow heat the icy cold feeling in her chest. Bethanie wished she could talk to the ghosts who must haunt this room and beg for help.

A light tapping at her door startled Bethanie. She hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks, “Come in,” she whispered, wondering what Allison wanted at this hour.

To her shock, Ben opened the door and slowly rolled his wheelchair through the entrance. His dark hair was tousled, and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Though his appearance told of his hurried rising from sleep, there was no hint of slumber in his eyes. He moved to the edge of the rug she was sitting on and folded his hands, staring at her for a long moment.

“Beth,” he began as he lowered his eyes to examine the arm of his wheelchair. “I’ll not waste words. Ruth came to me tonight. She told me of a very disturbing conversation she overheard outside her window between you and your uncle.” There was no emotion in his voice. Bethanie heard no sign of caring in his tone and, thankfully, no sign of scorn.

Bethanie’s face reddened, and she turned away to stare into the fire, not knowing what to say. How could she tell this cold man anything? Yet he was her only avenue of help.

Ben continued. “Wilbur told me you were orphaned, and he took you in. He also said you were worthless and of little help, so I know he’s a poor judge of women.”

Bethanie smiled at Ben’s offhanded compliment. She could just see Wilbur trying to tell Ben anything. Ben’s honest statement about her told her why his men must respect him so. He might be cold, but he spoke his mind when needed, without lies or flattery.

“Do you want to go back to San Antonio?” Ben asked bluntly as he rolled a few feet closer to her.

“No!” Bethanie answered emphatically, “I’d rather die.” She looked up at him, allowing him to see the tears
bubble over and run down her cheeks. She had to be truthful with him.

Ben’s face wrinkled with her sudden declaration. He rubbed the short hairs along his jawline with his thumb. “I’ve been thinking about another way out, but it may not be much more to your liking than death.”

“What?” Bethanie was intrigued, willing to hear anything. She’d heard Ruth say that Ben was a very smart man. He had to be intelligent to run a ranch this large from his desk. Maybe he’d thought of a plan she had overlooked.

“I first thought about loaning you money for a ticket out of Texas, but he just might find you while you waited for the stage, and I can’t spare enough men to fight his two hired guns.”

“Oh.” Bethanie let her shoulders drop along with her hopes of escape. This had been her only plan, too, and Ben was right about it. Even if she could get to town, she might have to wait days for the stage.

Ben cleared his throat. “From the first time you walked into my house, I’ve cared about your welfare. Cared more than I’ve ever allowed myself to for a woman.”

Bethanie looked up in surprise, but Ben was staring at his lifeless legs as he continued. “If we were married, he couldn’t take you.”

“What?” Bethanie asked in disbelief. Ben seemed nervous for the first time.

“I said, if we were married you’d be my responsibility and he would have no rights. I can wake up the preacher and we can get it done tonight.”

Bethanie put her hands to her chin and thought about his wild suggestion. She wasn’t sure she would be a great deal better off with this cold man. Ben had been none too friendly these past few days. What would he be like
if they married? But he was an honest man who was definitely respected by those around him.

“Do you plan to marry another?” Ben asked, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

“No,” Bethanie answered, “I never planned to marry at all. I think you wouldn’t make such an offer if you knew about me.” She closed her eyes as she forced the words from her. “My parents were Shakers. They never married. I’ve been told that no decent man would ever marry me.”

A long moment of silence passed between them. Finally Ben asked, “I’ve read about the Shakers. They are a kind people, dedicated to cleanliness, industry, and celibacy.” His voice slowed slightly at the last word.

Bethanie nodded, surprised at his knowledge. “My parents broke one Shaker law, obviously.” She studied his intelligent face more closely. She had met very few people over the years who understood Shakers. Most folks were afraid of them, thinking they were possessed because they danced and spoke in tongues. Some even thought them witches because of the ointments they made from the marrow of hog jaw, the repulsive substance believed to have great healing powers.

“Do you hold with Shaker beliefs?” Ben asked.

“Most. I was taught nursing and the use of herbs from my mother. She was a kind woman, who did her best to live by the faith.” Bethanie looked back toward the fireplace. What else could she say? Martha’s words kept pounding in her head, “No decent man will marry you.”

Ben seemed consumed with his own thoughts. He was probably wishing he had never asked her to marry him, Bethanie thought. Josh might have overlooked everything because of his love, but Ben did not hold such feelings. How could he ever withstand the future gossip?

Ben’s voice was as firm as his grip on the arm of his wheelchair. “Well, Beth, make up your mind. We haven’t
got much time. I’m a respectable man and I’m offering marriage.”

“But people would talk.” Bethanie shook her head. “They’ve always talked.”

“They probably would. More about why you married me, than why I married you. But as Mrs. Ben Weston, I promise you they would never say a word in front of me. Half the people in Texas have something in their past they don’t want brought up. Your parents’ sin seems no greater than what most people have to hide.”

Ben studied her with his dark, coffee brown eyes. “I can see how you fit being from Shaker background. You’re definitely industrious and believe in cleanliness. As for celibacy…” He stopped, at a sudden loss of words. He raked his fingers through his black hair. “I say this in order to be truthful right from the start. I can do my duty as a husband, but I will not demand it. You can have this room as yours and continue to help out on the ranch as you have this week. I know I’m no bargain for a husband, but when I’m dead this ranch will be yours. Josh was my only kin. You’ll always have a home, and I’m not a poor man. But understand this, Beth. Once you’re my wife, it will be for life. What I have, I hold. There will be no leaving once Wilbur is gone.”

The idea of a home appealed to Bethanie. She had spent her life living in the back quarters of ranches where her mother worked as the cook. She could never remember having her own room. “You’ll not force yourself on me?” she questioned. She didn’t want a repetition of her problem with Uncle Wilbur.

Ben laughed dryly. “I can hardly do that, but if you choose to come to my bed, you come to stay. I’ll not play games with the marriage act. Whether or not you cross that hallway is up to you. I’ll respect you as my wife either way.”

Bethanie studied Ben. The gray hair at his temples
flashed silver in the firelight. There was no emotion in his face. He was making a business deal, she thought. She was getting away from Wilbur, and he was getting a housekeeper. It was a fair trade.

Bethanie lifted her chin. “Tell Ruth to wake the preacher,” she said as she stood and began straightening her dress. Her only dress. Her wedding dress.

At dawn Wilbur cheerfully loaded his packhorse. He shook Ben’s hand and said his thanks in a hurried tone. His smile widened as Allison and Bethanie stepped onto the porch. “Mount up,” he ordered, showing his yellowed smile as he stared at Bethanie. He seemed relieved that he didn’t have to go searching for her this morning.

Allison moved to her horse and allowed one of Ben’s men to help her up. She smiled sweetly at the cowhands who wandered out of the bunkhouse to. wave goodbye. Bethanie stepped behind Ben’s chair as he had instructed her to do.

“Bethanie!” Wilbur shouted in frustration. “Get on your horse.”

“She’s not going.” Ben smiled at Wilbur’s reaction. The fat old man puffed up like a toad. Ben’s gaze left no doubt about how little he thought of the man before him. With a nod he signaled his men to move closer to the porch.

Wilbur slung his reins to one of the men and stormed to the foot of the porch. He shoved at the cowboys who stood planted in front of the steps. “Now look here, mister, you have no right interfering with family matters.” Wilbur took one step up the porch, pulling up his belt as he walked. His fat cheeks reddened with anger at the needless delay.

“You’re right,” Ben stated as he lifted a gun from under the blanket that covered his legs and laid it carefully
in his lap. “My wife stays with me.” His words could have been said in mild conversation, but their force was disquieting upon Wilbur.

“What?” the fat man screamed, his face a red beet of anger. “Your wife?”

“That’s right,” the preacher said as he stepped onto the porch, unaware of the drama before him. “I married these two last night. Quite a hurry to tie the knot, I must say.”

“Bethanie!” Allison cried. “You didn’t marry him!” Her emphasis on “him” left no doubt what a poor choice she thought Ben to be.

“Yes.” Bethanie held up her head proudly, though her fingers were white from gripping Ben’s chair. “He’s a fine man, and I’m honored to be his wife.” She would not allow anyone to see the sorrow in her heart or the relief that blended with her blood and flowed in a calming wave through her body.

Allison shook her curls in disbelief. Her pouting bottom lip stuck out, telling all of her unhappiness. Bethanie knew Allison was already thinking of how this marriage would affect her.

Wilbur snorted a laugh. “He’s a cripple and not…” He stopped and thought better of any further comment as Ben’s gun pointed toward his enormous gut.

“I’m man enough to kill anyone who touches my wife.” Ben’s voice was slow and deadly earnest. “Try me,” he dared. Even the two hired guns could tell he was serious, and they knew better than to mess with a man and his wife. They both looked away, wanting no part of this fight.

Wilbur backed off the steps, beaten. “Well then, she’s yours. I’d never get a girl as plain as her married off anyway. She’ll be a cold, hateful wife, and you’re welcome to her.” He clumsily mounted his horse. “Don’t come crying back to me, girlie,” he added to Bethanie.

“I never will,” Bethanie answered as she relaxed her hands on the back of Ben’s chair. No matter how cold Ben was to her or how hard the work was, Bethanie knew she would never leave. Ben had kept his word and saved her from Wilbur and a living hell. She would be a good companion to him.

Wilbur jerked his horse around and rode off without another word. His two hired guns followed, along with his complaining daughter.

Ben turned in his chair, and Bethanie thought she saw a touch of victory curl his lip into a tiny smile. The same smug grin threatened to wrinkle her lips. They had beaten Wilbur.

Ben’s eyes were unreadable as he looked at her. “I’m ready for breakfast,” he said as if nothing had just occurred. “Preacher, will you join my wife and me?” He rolled his chair past Bethanie, “We’ve got much to do today, Beth.”

Bethanie followed Ben into the house. He handed the old gun to Ruth, but addressed the preacher. “Sam Walker gave me that old Walker-Colt himself. He helped Samuel Colt invent it for the Rangers during the Republic of Texas days. I got hurt during a bank robbery when I was a kid and Walker came to see me. He said anyone foolhardy enough to take on three bank robbers deserved a real gun.”

The preacher knew nothing of guns and had no desire to increase his knowledge. “I’m sure it is a very nice gun,” he commented as he eyed the food on the breakfast table with true interest.

“I keep it in my desk. Haven’t had any use for it in years. It felt good to have it in my hand once more.” Ben looked up and smiled a half grin at Bethanie. “But I guess I’d kill a man if he tried to take my wife.”

She knew this was the start of her new life. She smiled to herself. She felt valued by this cold man. She had a
room of her own, a house to run, and a husband who made no demands on her body. Life might not be full of joy, but Bethanie was satisfied with her bargain.

Josh clung to exposed tree roots along the muddy riverbank, trying to regain some of his strength and bring his breathing back to normal. Though he was a strong swimmer, the current had fought him for every inch. While rain poured down violently, Josh could barely tell when his head was above water. He rolled over in the sticky mud and grabbed a low tree branch. He knew he was far downstream from the herd; but, at least he was alive.

As dawn changed the sky from black to gray, Josh crawled farther up the bank and collapsed under the protection of an ancient cottonwood tree. Soon, he would have to start the long walk back to camp. Hopefully, Mike would find his horse and send a rider to search for him. Josh only hoped the man would travel this far downriver.

Josh heard voices from the other side of the tree and almost shouted with relief. Then, his years of training during the war slowed his curiosity to caution. Crawling on his stomach, he moved until he could see three men squatting by a half-drowned fire. The slow drizzle made the men seem more like ghosts than humans. Josh flattened himself in the grass and listened to their talk.

“Well, Ran, we scattered the herd pretty good,” one man in a tan parka and black hat mumbled. He sloshed
the last ounce of coffee around in his cup before slinging it behind him, almost hitting Josh.

Thanks to all the mud caked to his clothing, Josh more closely resembled a tree root than a man. He burrowed an inch deeper into the soft earth.

“Yeah,” the man called Ran answered. “With the help of this storm, I doubt if anyone will ever know we started that stampede.”

The man in the tan parka nodded. “We slowed the roundup just like Mr. Mayson told us to. It’ll take them a week or more to find those wild cows.”

The third man interrupted, his voice peppered with age. “We’d best report in. Smother the fire and let’s mount up.” He nodded toward the one in the tan parka as he and Ran stood. They moved toward their horses, blurred by rain from Josh’s view.

The man in the tan parka stood and began kicking at the fire. His halfhearted efforts were met by sputtering flames. Josh rose from the mud and moved behind him as silently as a cloud’s shadow drifts across the ground.

Josh lifted his wet gun from its holster as the man leaned to pick up the coffeepot. The butt of Josh’s Colt slammed into the stranger’s skull with a dull thud, and the stranger crumbled to the ground.

Josh dragged the limp cowboy behind the tree and stripped the parka, hat, and gun from him. Seconds later, Josh joined the other two men with the black hair pulled low and the tan parka covering his identity. As the trio mounted, rain made conversation and sight difficult, so Josh had no trouble riding with the other two cowboys. He had no idea where they were headed, but he intended to find out.

They rode until mid-afternoon. Rain turned to fog as Josh fought to stay awake. Finally his efforts were rewarded as he saw a ranch materialize in the gray soupy mist before him. The markings over the gate indicated it
was the Pair of Spades spread. Josh had never been on this property, but he’d heard a great deal about it. All bad. The owner, a Mr. Mayson, had been a gambler until the end of the war, when he lucked into this ranch. Josh had heard he was offering every rancher within a hundred miles three dollars a head for their cattle. The offer was absurd when northern buyers would pay ten times that if the ranchers could get their beef to the railroad. But other states had enacted a yet-unchallenged law to stop herding across their land. Texas fever killed their livestock when these longhorns were allowed to cross the states. There were rumors of Texans being arrested and even killed when they tried to travel across other ranches to get to market. So a few of Josh’s neighbors were tempted by Mayson’s offer.

Josh slowly pulled up his horse. It was clear to him now. Mayson had found a way through the blockade and wanted to make sure no other rancher got there ahead of him. Without either of the other riders noticing, Josh turned around and vanished within seconds. He headed toward the nearest town, tired but excited.

The next morning Josh placed a telegram to Austin requesting information on Mayson and cattle laws. By late afternoon he had his answer.

Josh smiled as he read the telegram from Austin. What a lucky turn of fate. If he hadn’t been swept downstream, he’d never have discovered Mayson’s scheme. The Rangers had been waiting for weeks for some clue, and now Josh could see the pieces all falling into place. He and Mike had been mistaken to think Bethanie’s uncle might be masterminding this plan. Mayson was the one they were after. He must have been the man who set up the San Antonio meeting involving every outlaw in these parts. A man who could control the cattle money in Texas would win the state.

Josh decided to get a good night’s rest before heading
back to Ben with his news. He considered sending a telegram to his brother, but decided he’d rather bring his good news in person. The fear that they might think he was dead crossed his mind, but surely Ben would know he could take care of himself. He decided to ride by a few of the other ranches and see if they were also having trouble with the roundup. After all, what could a few days matter? Bethanie would be waiting for him.

The memory of her beside him in the dark cave stirred his blood as it had the nights during the roundup. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so many parts of his life he’d never shared with anyone. Josh ran his fingers through his thick black hair. He could almost see her before him, her green eyes changing from ice to fire, her soft, quiet manner exploding with anger when she was pushed too far. She had her mother’s nature but somewhere she’d inherited a fire that could warm quickly in both anger and passion. Never had a woman so woven her way around his heart.

Bethanie spent her first day as Ben Weston’s wife cleaning house. The sun was warm and bright, so she pulled drapes and bedspreads out for airing. She beat the house’s only rug several minutes before replacing it in her bedroom. Ruth was quiet, as always, but asked Bethanie’s opinion on several matters.

Bethanie had feared Ruth might show anger at losing her position as woman of the house. To her surprise, Ruth seemed relieved. Bethanie wondered at the strange bond that held Ruth to Ben. It didn’t seem to be love, or mothering, but simple devotion. It was as though there was some unalterable script already written for her life and Ruth must play it out without emotion. She didn’t enjoy her lot or begrudge it, only waited out each day until the role ended.

By evening, the large ranch house glowed with rare beauty. The rooms smelled of lemon oil and fresh air. Ben made no comment, only ate his dinner and returned to his desk. For him the day was no different than any other working day.

Bethanie watched him as she altered an old dress to fit her. After an hour she realized he didn’t plan to comment about the day, and she decided to retire. She stood and walked to his desk. “Good night, Ben.”

Ben raised his eyes from a book. “Good night, Beth.” He lowered his gaze, dismissing her. His long slender fingers lightly tapped the arm of his wheelchair, as if he were impatient for her to leave so he could get back to reading.

Bethanie went to her room. Ben had been honest, she thought. He’d said everything would be the same, and it was. Why had she thought they might at least talk, perhaps become friends. She scolded herself. What had she expected? Ben had given her the protection of his name and in return she would be mistress of his house. That was it, no more, no less. She would sleep in her room, and he would be across the hallway. Even though he’d said he could do his duty as a husband in bed, he had also said he would never force his attentions on her. As Bethanie crawled beneath the beautiful patchwork quilt, she decided there were worse places she could be. She had a home to call her own and plenty to keep her busy. As in the nights before, she left her door ajar. Her dreams were not so bad when she could believe someone else was near.

Yet in the darkness before dawn, her nightmare returned as it had since she was three.

“Run, Bethanie, run!” her mother shouted.

“Run out back to the trees.”

She was so frightened. As she jumped out of bed, Bethanie could see lights all over the front of her
house. She stood on her toes to peer out the window. She didn’t understand. She ran and ran until she heard her mother scream. Bethanie slipped in the wet grass and fell. She was falling…falling.

Bethanie jerked awake. She pushed her damp hair from her eyes and sat up in bed, trying to convince herself of reality and slow down her breathing.

“Beth,” Ben’s silhouette in the doorway cast a shadow across her room. “Are you all right? I thought I heard you cry out.”

“I’m fine,” Bethanie lied. “It was just a dream.” She could see Ben was bare-chested. Powerful muscles spread across his upper frame, covered only by a patch of black hair in the center of his chest.

Ben reached for the door handle. “Good. Get some sleep.” He began to roll back out of the room, his hand pulling the door with him.

“Ben.”

“Yes, Beth.” His voice was low.

“Will you leave the doors between our rooms open?” She didn’t want to admit being afraid, but the thought of the door closing unsettled her.

“If you wish.” Ben’s tone wasn’t as harsh as usual. He backed away out of her sight.

“Thank you,” Bethanie whispered, knowing he probably couldn’t hear her. “Thank you for everything,” she mumbled as she rolled over and fell into a peaceful sleep.

When dawn lightened her room, Bethanie tied back her red hair and made mental notes of her day’s plan. For months she had carried a tiny pouch of seeds from her mother’s herb garden. This afternoon she would pick a place to plant the seeds, maybe down by the waterfall Josh had loved so dearly. This was her home, and this was where her garden would be. Bethanie smiled wistfully. In the years to come she would work among the
herb plants and think of Josh and their brief moments together.

Bethanie spent the morning baking, while Ruth worked silently by her side. As the sun grew warm so did the kitchen. Just after lunch, Ruth retired for her nap, and Bethanie decided to walk over to the hidden falls. She could pick a place for her garden while she enjoyed the cool shade surrounding the enchanted spot. She’d never noticed anyone else going up the rocky path and knew she could find privacy there. Bethanie smiled to herself as she pulled her bandanna from her hair and stepped out the back door.

Josh cleared the ridge just in time to see a glimpse of a redheaded woman disappear down the path leading toward the falls. He felt his pulse increase as he edged his horse down a little-used back trail toward where Bethanie had disappeared. He could hardly wait to hold her. She’d been in his thoughts every hour. He rode slowly, allowing himself to savor the exciting anticipation of her. Never in his life had a woman so haunted his waking and sleeping hours.

As Josh stepped into the clearing at the base of the falls, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Bethanie was facing the water with her back to him. She was slowly removing her clothing. Josh thought of stopping her; this was too cool a time of year to bathe outdoors, but he could not bring himself to halt the lovely unveiling. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, with her long arms and legs shining white in the sun and her full hair tumbling past her waist. He watched silently, reverently studying the masterpiece that was his alone to possess. His eyes never left her form as he unbuttoned his own shirt.

Bethanie hesitated only a moment before plunging into
the cold pool. An instant after she jumped, Josh’s nude body hit the water beside her.

When Bethanie’s head came up, she slung her wet hair high out of her face. She opened her eyes and saw Josh standing chest deep in water only a few feet away. Her senses told her he was beside her, yet her mind revolted violently in disbelief.

“Hello, my beautiful love.” He laughed at the surprise in her eyes. How could a woman be so lovely? He ran a finger lightly over her shoulder to feel the silkiness of her skin.

“J-Josh!” Bethanie couldn’t seem to control her voice. “I thought you were dead. Everyone thought you had drowned.” She shook her head. “This can’t be real.” He couldn’t be here. Her longing for him must have driven her mind beyond reason, yet her fantasy was complete even to the healing wound on his left arm.

Josh moved toward her, his touch denying her words. He could see the shock in her green eyes. She truly must have believed him dead. He could see it in the shadows of her eyes. A pain within him echoed her feelings. How she must have suffered if she thought they’d lost each other? He never wanted to see her hurt again, for the pain burned through him also.

Determination set his face. He would make her forget all the worry she’d suffered, all the pain. “Well, if I’m a dream, I’m the best one you’re ever going to have.” He pulled her into his arms, their flesh touching the full length of their bodies. Her full breasts flattened into his hard chest. Josh thought he would surely go mad at the softness of her.

“But, Josh…” Bethanie began; still not believing he was alive and with her. Josh’s mouth silenced her protest with his hunger. Bethanie pushed at him briefly, before giving over to her wonderful dream. How could one fight a fantasy?

Their fire for each other was so great, neither noticed the cold water splashing around them. His kiss was tender, yet demanding. She felt a wild fire start deep inside her and spread rampant through her limbs. Every part of her begged for his touch, his embrace, his kiss.

Josh lifted Bethanie in his arms and carried her to the grassy bank. This had always been his favorite spot on earth, but today it was heaven. He pulled the bedroll from his saddle and encircled them both with its wool. “I love you,” Josh whispered. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” He buried his face between her cheek and shoulder. “God, you feel wonderful, more so than I ever remembered.”

“Josh,” Bethanie pushed him slightly away. “We must talk. We can’t do this.” The realization that he was truly alive and with her was beginning to sink into her brain.