Dorothy Garlock - [Wyoming Frontier] (47 page)

The funds in the account for Miss Mara Shannon McCall are depleted. Unless payment is made to Miss Fillamore by November 12, Miss McCall will be asked to leave the school. Please advise.

Slowly, like someone in a trance, she picked up the next letter and began to read.

Angus Long, the fight promoter, sent the prize money directly to me as per your instructions. The amount will cover Miss McCall’s tuition until January 10.

Mara felt as if the breath were being squeezed from her lungs. She feverishly scanned the next six letters from the attorney. The contents were similar. The fight promoters had sent money. The last letter from the attorney was different.

Miss Fillamore has informed me that Miss McCall will be teaching at the school immediately upon graduation. She will receive room and board and a small remuneration. Please advise if the money I am holding for her personal expenses is to be put into her personal account as in the past.

Tears began to slide down Mara’s cheeks as the events of the past few years fell into place. Pack had been the one who had paid for her schooling. He had earned the money by fighting in the prize ring.

Miss Fillamore’s neat, familiar handwriting was on several small envelopes. Tears fell on Mara’s hands as she opened each of the letters and scanned them one by one.

. . .Miss McCall was pleased with your generous gift. She is the only girl here who owns an ivory-handled hairbrush.

Each of the following letters was to acknowledge a gift; the mirror, the comb, the hair saver, the shawl, the coat. The last letter was dated a few days after she had graduated.

The brooch was greatly appreciated. I must congratulate you on the selection. It is a beautiful piece. It was considerate of you to attend the graduation ceremony even though Miss McCall was unaware of your presence.

Mara’s eyes were so blurred with tears that she could no longer read. She returned the letters to the box, locked it and slipped it under the bed. And then slowly, like an old and feeble woman, she crawled upon the bed, the key clutched in her hand. Sobs tore from her throat. Locked in her misery, she cried for a long time.

All of her treasures were gifts from Pack. He was the one who had seen to it that she had a gift at Christmas, not Miss Fillamore. How many times had he stood and taken the punishment of another man’s fists in order to pay for them? How many times had he been hurt as he was the day she found him lying along the road? To think of what he must have suffered was almost more than she could bear.

She continued to cry even after she had no more tears.

*    *    *    

It was the golden time of the day. The sun had gone down behind the mountains to the west and the light was fading from the sky. The first thing Pack saw when he and the twins rode up the lane toward the house was Aubrey at the washtubs wringing out the quilts and putting them on the line. A pressure began to build in his chest as his eyes searched for Mara Shannon and didn’t find her. His instincts told him that something was wrong. Mara Shannon wouldn’t leave her washing unless she couldn’t do it herself. He kicked his tired horse into a trot and swung down as soon as he reached the yard.

“Where’s Mara Shannon?” he demanded.

“In the house.” Aubrey looked at Trellis and the boy shook his head.

“Is she sick?”

“Not that I be knowin’. ”

Pack started for the house.

“Hold fer just a minute,” Aubrey said. “There’s somethin’ ye should be knowin’.”

“Well?” Pack swung around. His face was bruised, one of his eyes was almost swollen shut. He was bone weary and short of patience.

“Cullen was here.”

“Cullen? Goddamn it! If he hurt her I’ll kill him.”

“He didn’t hurt her,” Trellis said quickly. “He had come and gone before we left for town.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Pack turned his fury on his young brothers.

“It wouldn’t a done no good. You’d a just worried.”

“Who decided that? Don’t ever hold back anything from me when it concerns my wife.”

“Dinna be layin’ it to the lads, Pack. The lassie be sayin’ that ye had enough on yer mind wid the fight ’n all. She dinna want yer to be worryin’.”

“Why, all of a sudden, is everyone so concerned about worrying me?”

“There be more, Pack. Cullen be tellin’ the lass about her pa’s will.”

“Jesus, my God! How did he find out about that?”

“He was in Denver ’n looked up a man named Randolph.” Trellis spoke hastily, not wanting his father to stand the brunt of Pack’s anger alone.

“James wouldn’t have told him anything. Cullen probably went to the public records.”

“The lass is hurtin’.” Aubrey stood holding the wet quilt, water running down and making a puddle at his feet.

“Cullen’s gone to Californy. He won’t be back.” Travor led his horse and Pack’s to the water troughs. “I’ll take care of your horse, Pack.”

“Thanks, Trav. Keep an eye out for Willy. He’ll be along as soon as he sobers up enough to get on his horse.” Pack’s hand was on the screen door; his eyes snared Aubrey’s. “If Cullen comes back, he’ll wish to hell he had never set eyes on me!”

The older man nodded.

The table was set for supper. Pack dropped his hat on a kitchen chair and went through to the parlor. The lamp on the mantel cast a glow over Mara where she sat as still as a statue on the loveseat, her hands clasped in her lap. Her face was pale and strained, with dark shadows beneath her eyes. Against her almost colorless skin her hair glowed in the lamplight like dying embers.

“Mara Shannon? Are you sick?” He sat beside her on the loveseat. She remained motionless, her eyes fastened to his face. Her skin was almost cold to his touch. “What’s wrong, honey?” He put a finger against her cheek.

“Is it ov—” Her voice broke. She swallowed and tried again. “Is it over?”

“It’s over.”

“Are you all right?”

“Bruised and a little tired. Nothing that being here with you won’t cure.”

“Your poor face,” she whispered. “Let me see your hands.” She took one of his hands in both of hers and ran her fingers over his cut and swollen knuckles. “I warmed the ointment—” She bent her head and brought his hand to her lips. When she looked up, her eyes were filled with tears.

Deeply touched, Pack lifted her up in his arms and pulled her onto his lap. She wrapped her arms about him and buried her face in his shoulder.

“I’m so ashamed,” she managed to say without giving way to the sobs welling up inside her.

“About what, sweetheart? Aubrey said Cullen was here. What did he say that upset you so much? Was it about your papa’s will?”

“He said that Papa left everything to you. I don’t really care about that, but—” She had to swallow before she could go on.

“Honey, Shannon wanted to make sure you’d not be cheated out of what was yours if something happened to him before you were of legal age. Aubrey was your next of kin, and Shannon was afraid he’d fiddle everything away before you were old enough to take charge of it.”

“And he would have, or he’d have let Cullen.”

“By leaving it in my name, your father made sure Aubrey couldn’t touch it. I’ve been keeping it for you. It’s all yours anytime you want to go to Denver to sign the papers.”

“I don’t want it. I just want to be here, with you. Pack—” She opened her hand and showed him the key to the box under the bed. She wound her arms around him and held him as tight as she could. He could feel her lips move against his neck when she spoke. “I read the letters.”

He didn’t know what to say. He held her for a long time, hoping to quiet his pounding heart, wanting and loving her in silence. After awhile she moved her face so her lips were near his ear and they were cheek to cheek.

“I love you.” Her voice was merely a breath in his ear.

Deep down inside Pack something warm began to blossom and grow. He felt as if he had been given the world. She lay soft and relaxed against him, her breasts pressed to his chest. With his eyes closed he bowed his head and buried his cut and bruised face in her hair.

“And I love you,” he whispered. “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you. Shannon knew it. I think he was hoping that someday you’d love me back.”

She moved her lips away from his ear and he could feel them against his cheek. Her sensitive fingertips moved along the line of his jaw, stroking gently.

“I do love you, and I’ve been so . . . awful. I don’t know how you can still love me.”

He was overwhelmed with a feeling of love that went far beyond physical desire. Her lips were indescribably sweet as they searched for his. The kisses they exchanged were soft, gentle and full of sweetness. When she pulled her mouth away, he kissed her eyes, nose and temples, then tantalized the corners of her mouth.

“You’re easy to love, sweetheart.”

“If you’ve loved me for a long time, why didn’t you want to marry me?” Her palms held his cheeks while she moved her head back to look at him.

He looked at her for a long while, loving the shape of her face, her mouth, loving and wanting all of her, and trying to think of the right words to say. His fingers smoothed the hair back from her wet forehead and then moved to behind her ear to stroke gently.

“Because I didn’t want you to be ashamed of your husband, and looked down on because you were my wife.”

She drew in a great trembling breath. “I shamed myself by behaving the way I did. Can you ever forgive me?” She gazed at him with big, solemn eyes that slowly filled with tears.

He pulled her close again. “Sweetheart, you don’t need my forgiveness. I should have told you about the will and about me being a prizefighter before we were wed. I should have given you a chance to change your mind, but it all happened so quickly, I hardly had time to think. I wanted you so bad—”

“I loved you even then, but I was too stubborn to admit it.” She leaned back so that she could see his face. “Why did you want me to leave after Brita died?”

“I wanted you to have a taste of town life while I got rid of Cullen. Then I was going to explain things to you and you could have decided what you wanted to do.”

She ran a finger over his puffed mouth and kissed his bruised cheekbone.

“Thank you for paying Miss Fillamore so I could stay in school. Thank you for my Christmas presents.” She swallowed, afraid she’d not be able to say all she wanted to say. “Thank you for coming to see me graduate. I wish I had known you were there. I thought I was the only one who didn’t . . . have someone.” Tears she could hold back no longer flowed freely.

“You were as pretty as a picture in your white dress,” he whispered. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

“Why did you come?”

“To look at my girl,” he said simply.

“I love you.” Her hand stroked the bruised flesh of his cheek gently. “I can’t bear the thought of you being hurt, of that man . . . hitting you.”

“I hurt him more than he hurt me, sweetheart.”

“Please don’t do it again.”

“I won’t. I’ve already promised you that.” He smoothed the hair back from her face. “Don’t you want to know if I won?”

“I knew you’d win. I never doubted it for a minute.” Her brows drew together in a worried frown. “It was the longest day of my life,” she whispered.

“Honey, let’s go to bed.”

Her emerald eyes searched his face. “Your supper is ready, and I made your favorite—everyday cake.”

“I’m not hungry for supper. I want to go to bed . . . with you.”

At first there was nothing; then a smile that started at the corners of her lips spread into an impish grin.

“We’ve had some pretty good fights, haven’t we?”

“Aye. And I’m thinking we’ll have more, Mara
Stubborn
Gallagher.” His laugh was a soft purr of pure happiness. “Willy says you’re just what I need to take me down a notch or two.”

“I think I like Willy.”

She slid off his lap and took his hand. They walked up the stairs with his arm across her shoulders.

“I forgot about the quilts in the washtub.” She stood in her chemise, digging in the drawer for her nightdress.

“Aubrey hung them on the line.” Pack, stiff and sore in places he had forgotten about, grunted as he tugged down his britches and stepped out of them.

“Aubrey felt bad about Cullen coming here. I could tell that he was ashamed. He’s a different man since he stopped drinking. Oh, I don’t want to forget to tell you about how the twins stood up to Cullen. You would have been so proud.”

“Forget Aubrey, forget the twins, forget the nightdress, Mrs. Gallagher. Forget that other thing you’ve got on too.” Pack lay down on the bed, stretched out, and groaned with contentment. “Come here, wife. I need to hold you.”

Mara slipped into bed beside him and fit into his arms as if she had been made with him in mind. He closed his eyes and drank in her nearness, her softness, the elusive sweet scent of her.

“You’re hurting more than you let on,” she accused between pecking kisses on his shoulder.

“I’m hurting in only one place right now,” he murmured, rolling her gently over onto her back and hovering over her. “Ye’re eyes be all swollen from bawlin’, Mrs. Gallagher. Ye be lookin’ like somethin’ the cat dragged in,” he teased in a lazy Irish brogue. His eyes were swollen and surrounded by blue bruises, but they shone with happiness.

“Aye. ’N to be sure ye be knowin’ about cats, would ye not, Mr. Gallagher?” Her soft happy laughter was accompanied by his low chuckle. His eyes devoured her face.

“Aye, me beauty. But ’tis not cats I be thinkin’ of.” He placed soft kisses on her smiling lips. “I be thinkin’ on what I want to be doin’ when I be findin’ a naked lassie in me bed.”

“What about yer wife, sir?” she demanded with mock horror.

He lowered his head and nuzzled at her breast with his mouth. “She be cruel ’n cold. She dinna be understandin’ me.”

“Alas! Poor man!”

With effortless strength he rolled onto his back and lifted her to lie on top of him, her thighs cradled between his, her breasts loving the rough texture of the hair on his chest.