Rescuing Cain (Christmas Rescue Series Book 2) Page 4

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Hurry up,” the captain snapped.

  What a rude, impatient man he was.

  “I can hear hoofbeats, my men are coming.”

  “Do you Cain Kilkenny take Skye Lonsdale as your lawful wedded wife?”

  “I do.”

  “Place the ring on your bride’s finger.”

  Her hands were trembling, Cain’s steady as a rock as he slid grandma’s wedding ring on to her finger as she clutched the Bonnie Prince Charlie rose to her breast. His skin was warm, his fingers slightly roughened. If only they were being married under different circumstances.

  “You may now kiss your bride.”

  Cain lowered his head and kissed her full on the lips causing heat to shoot through her body. She felt a strange tightening of her stomach muscles, or at least she thought she did. After the momentary feel of his lips on hers she suddenly felt bereft when he lifted his head and stepped back.

  The preacher wrote a few notes in the back of the bible and each of them signed the page. She was now Mrs. Cain Kilkenny unless he decided not to consummate their marriage so he could have an annulment later. By the savage expression on his face, he was probably contemplating the idea.

  “Right, my men are back.”

  The dog suddenly growled as booted feet were heard on the wooden porch boards.

  “You there, Captain Renshaw?”

  “Yes, I am. All right, preacher, are you ready to leave? If not, you get back to Laramie the best way you can. Goodbye, Mrs. Kilkenny.” He gave a deep bow.

  “Goodbye, Captain Renshaw, thank you for saving us.”

  “It’s my job when I’m not playing nurse-maid to a preacher man.”

  “I’ll be reporting this insolence to your Colonel when I next see him.”

  “Go ahead. See if I care.”

  Skye stood with Lochie and grandpa as Cain saw the men out. Had the soldiers caught up with the Indians? Maybe they were still in danger? She glanced at the cups of tea, left virtually untouched by everyone except the preacher. He might be a man of God, but she didn’t have to like him.

  After the soldiers rode off, Cain stepped inside.

  “What happened to the Indians?” she asked.

  “They’re dead.”

  Her hands flew to her mouth in shock. “All of them?”

  “Yeah. They were a band of renegades who went on a murdering rampage, so no-one is going to miss them.”

  “I didn’t think Captain Renshaw, or the preacher were very nice,” she said.

  “Renshaw is a glory hunter,” Cain said. “I don’t like to speak ill of the clergy, but that preacher is an old bigot.”

  “I would never attend a kirk he preached in,” grandpa said, much to her surprise.

  “Well, it didn’t stop you from lying about me compromising your granddaughter.”

  “I had to ensure my wee Skye is taken care of when I pass.”

  “Well, you picked the wrong man. I’m a drifter with little money and no assets except a good horse and saddle. Skye hasn’t got much of a bargain. You could have chosen someone much better than me.”

  “Where from? We hardly ever leave here.” Her lips trembled.

  “You carry a lot of hatred in your heart, laddie, but deep down I sense there is goodness in you.”

  “I think you’re a good man, Cain, to be so loyal to your friend.” His eyes widened. Something, she wasn’t quite sure what, flashed momentarily in them. “He wouldn’t want you to ruin your life because of it.”

  The Oliver brothers murdered my friend, ruined our business and had me sent to jail for over two years.”

  She gasped. “Jail?”

  “Yeah. Two years hard labor for a crime I didn’t commit. Now, you tell me why I’m not entitled to revenge?”

  “Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord,” her grandfather quoted.

  “And it is mine, too.”

  “But, Cain.”

  He brushed aside her hand as she made to touch him. “I’ve got a tree to finish cutting down.” He swung on his heel and left the cabin.

  “You shouldn’t have forced him into marrying me.”

  “Why not? I’m an old man; when I’m gone, you’ll have no-one to care for you, no-one to love.”

  “Love? How do you know I love him?”

  “I sense it. I’m blind, lassie, not stupid. He also has feelings for you.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” The idea was silly, he probably hated her.

  “It didn’t take him long to agree once that captain offered to wed you. He couldn’t get the words out quickly enough.”

  She sighed. “I wish you would try to speak English when Cain is with us. He must feel so excluded when he can’t understand what we’re saying.”

  “English is hard for me now.”

  “I know.” She patted his gnarled hand. “How can I make him stay?”

  “You’re a pretty lass. You be a good accommodating wife to him in your marital bed and he won’t want to leave.”

  She stifled a gasp of shock hearing him speak on such matters. She wasn’t quite sure what a man expected from his wife. What if she failed in her wifely duties? Cain would hightail it out of here as fast as his horse would take him.

  She caressed the petals of the white rose. Strange how the bush, brought out from Scotland as a cutting, had grown so well, blooming almost all year round except for the coldest months of the year.

  While Cain was outside, she decided to change the sheets and put pretty lace trimmed ones on their bed. She removed them from the top shelf of the closet and held them against her cheek. Grandma had made the lace trim. They smelled slightly of lavender.

  Another one of her ventures for Mack was making lavender bags. Eastern ladies apparently liked the pretty bags she made from lace trimmed muslin with a bunch of lavender embroidered on the front. Fortunately, the lavender bushes grew well out here. She dried them herself to ensure she always had a plentiful supply.

  Once the bed was made up to her satisfaction, she took a pretty embroidered cotton nightgown out of her chest of drawers and laid it across the small chair she always sat on to brush her hair.

  Peering through the window, she watched Cain, who was now kneeling on the barn roof, nailing the broken shingles back into place. Of the massive tree branch that had caused such damage there was only a pile of small logs left heaped up where he must have dropped them after sawing them off the main branch. What a difference a man’s strength made, even though he hadn’t fully recovered from his wound.

  Would he be content to stay here and work the ranch or would the wanderlust grip him, and he would ride off to greener pastures? That would be bearable, but if he still wanted to revenge himself against the outlaws who had taken so much from him, she could lose him permanently. They had tried to kill him before and would do so again if they got half a chance. Fear washed over her like a mighty ocean, taking her down into the deep, dark depths.

  “Foolish woman,” she muttered. She would cook him a nice supper, then hopefully be able to give him his husbandly dues. If I make life good for him here, he won’t want to leave us.

  Their root cellar was situated under a trapdoor set into the kitchen floor and to see she always had to light the lamp hanging near the top of the narrow stairs. Her father and grandpa had blasted into the rock and formed a small room then built the cabin over the top of it.

  It was perfect for storing their meat and vegetables. She salted a lot of their meat and smoked the rest of it in their smoke house which was down the end of the backyard.

  When her father was alive and grandpa had his sight, they had lived a comfortable life out here, now they struggled to survive.

  She gathered up several apples for the pie she decided to have for supper. Why not do a beef pie as well? Greens, potatoes and gravy. No man would complain about that kind of supper.

  Cain didn’t appear to be a fussy eater as he had never complained about the food she served, once he was well enough not to have broth and mashed up vegetables. She knew very little about where he came from or what he had done before setting out on his quest for vengeance. To think he had endured years in jail for a crime he hadn’t committed was dreadful.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mid-afternoon, she stood on the back porch for a few minutes and watched Cain work. “I’ve made you coffee,” she called out. He waved his hand in acknowledgement. She had used the coffee he carried with him sparingly to make it last. There was a Trading Post about four miles up the road where they had been a few times over the years. She disliked Ebenezer, the shifty looking man who ran it. Rumor had it he supplied alcohol and guns to renegade Indians.

  Obviously, nothing was ever proven, or perhaps the authorities turned a blind eye to it for unknown reasons. Maybe Cain could ride there for the coffee he craved. She returned indoors to cut up the ginger cake she had recently taken out of the oven.

  He strode inside about five minutes later, patted the dog on the head, nodded to grandpa and said. “Something smells good.”

  “Ginger cake.”

  He grinned. “At least I’ve got me a wife who can cook.” He picked up a slice of the still warm cake. “I’ve finished repairing the roof on the barn, thought I’d straighten up some of your fencing next.”

  “It’s been hard for us trying to fix things up.” She pushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

  “I know.” He sat at the table. “I’m not condemning you for it, you’ve done well considering.”

  “Now you’re here to help, laddie, things will be easier for us.”

  “If you’d just said in the beginning you wanted a man to work here, you wouldn’t have had to barter your grandda
ughter to a man like me.”

  She gasped in shock. “A man like you? What do you mean?” She came over to him, cupped her hands around his face and stared into his eyes. “I love you, Cain Kilkenny.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t, I’m not worthy of it.”

  “I think you are.”

  He gulped down his coffee and stood. “I better get back to work. Things are taking me longer to do. I’m not as strong as I thought I was.”

  “You don’t have to fix everything at once, there’s plenty of time.”

  “Is there?”

  Was he warning her that he intended to leave? Dread washed over her. She had confessed her love for him, yet he hadn’t said he loved her, didn’t even say he was fond of her, which meant he wasn’t.

  A short time later he rode off on Jupiter, sitting tall and straight in the saddle. What if he didn’t come back?

  After supper that evening, Skye washed the dishes and tidied up. Normally she would sit for a couple of hours and do her lacework while grandpa smoked his pipe and relaxed by the fire. Tonight, was different, she couldn’t cope with anything as nerves ate at her stomach with the ferocity of a starving wolf.

  What would Cain expect from her tonight? What if she didn’t please him?

  She got up and prowled the room, flicking non-existent dust off the mantel, picking up her lacework and putting it down again without working even one stitch.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Cain finally asked. “You’re like a cat on hot bricks.”

  “I suppose I’m nervous, I’ve never been married before.”

  He grinned. “Me, either.”

  “You’re anxious about what to do later as well?”

  “Nope, I know exactly what I want to do.”

  Her cheeks burned. How idiotic she must have sounded.

  “I might go to bed.”

  “English, grandpa. Cain doesn’t understand Gaelic.”

  “Goodnight, laddie.”

  “Goodnight,” Cain replied as the old man shuffled out of the room. “Why does your grandfather keep calling me laddie, makes me feel about ten years old.”

  She shrugged. “He always called my father laddie, never by his name.”

  “Do you need to go down the back?” he asked.

  “No, I went before.”

  “Okay, I do. Get yourself ready for bed, darlin’, I won’t be long.”

  She gulped down the lump suddenly rising into her throat. The time of reckoning had almost arrived.

  As soon as Cain sauntered off, she dashed into the bedroom and undressed. She quickly sponged her body and put on her nightgown. After turning back the bed coverings, she sat on a chair to brush her hair. All the while the tension and anxiety built.

  Glancing in the mirror, she stopped brushing mid-stroke on seeing Cain’s reflection. He had moved as quietly as a cat. He took the brush from her hand and ran it down her hair.

  “Pretty,” he said, resting his cheek against it. “Soft, too.” Pushing her hair to one side he nuzzled her throat. “Hop into bed, it’s time I truly made you my wife.”

  She scurried over to the bed and climbed in, pulling the bed clothes up to her chin. He snuffed out the lamp. Silence reigned. The bed moved as he slid in and reached for her.

  When Skye woke up the next morning, she was Cain’s wife in every sense of the word. A moment of pain had been followed by rapture. She couldn’t believe the heights of passion they had reached.

  She put her hand out and the other side of the bed was empty, the bed sheet cold. His gun belt still rested in the corner of the room. She rolled over on to his side of the bed and reached down. His Winchester was gone.

  After she had washed and dressed, Skye hurried out to the kitchen to find her grandfather tucking into a piece of left-over apple pie. “Oh, you’re up. He said to let you sleep.”

  “Where’s he gone?”

  “He thinks someone might be rustling our cattle.”

  “Why didn’t he mention it to me?”

  Grandpa shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Cain rode toward the far boundary. The numerous tracks aroused his suspicions. There had been a lot of movement here of late. It was unreasonable to expect an old blind man and a slip of a gal like Skye to be aware of it. He and Brian had been army scouts during the war and for a few months after it, and his eyes were still keen.

  He couldn’t believe how good it had been last night with Skye. Maybe there was a chance for them to lead a normal life, if only his hatred of the Oliver brothers could be quenched.

  His shy little wife had been all woman once he showed her how to please him. It was a strange experience waking up in the morning with a woman sleeping beside him. The urge to marry had never been strong in him, he’d never seen the need for it.

  That cunning old Scotsman, aided and abetted by the preacher, had outmaneuvered him. He had been enraged at the time, now, especially after last night, perhaps marriage wasn’t the hideous life sentence he had always believed it to be. Maybe he could have what other men had – a loving wife and family.

  Even though Skye had said “I love you,” he hadn’t uttered the same words to her because he wasn’t sure that he did. He wanted her with such desperation it had shocked him. He had no idea whether it was love or merely lust. He’d have to work it out soon. She might not continue being so accommodating if he didn’t make some declaration to her. Why were things so complicated when it came to women?

  More tracks and a broken fence, what in tarnation was going on? If someone had stolen the cattle, he would be hard pressed to prove it as they hadn’t branded any beast on this ranch in years. He bit down on his annoyance. Skye and the old man couldn’t do it themselves and they had no-one to call on for help.

  What about this Mack who brought up their supplies? Couldn’t he have suggested they leave here and move to wherever he lived. To his inexperienced male eye, Skye’s lace making was exquisite. Was the man paying her a fair price for it? The little lavender bags she made were mighty pretty. No wonder wealthy city ladies wanted them.

  When he had become alert enough to be aware of his surroundings, he had wondered what the elusive scent around the bedroom was. Now he knew – lavender. Skye was a smart gal, hardworking too. It didn’t sit well that she did a man’s chores outside, as well as everything else.

  Behind a clump of trees, he was amazed to find a dozen or so cows with calves at foot, grazing on green grass near the creek. If he could drive them into some of the fenced pasture it would be more stock for them. Most of them didn’t look much, but a couple were mighty fine beasts.

  Skye had mentioned rounding up cattle with Lochie’s help. It amazed him the way the dog became his eyes whilst on a short leash, with the old man walking behind him.

  It was vital to make sure not to leave obstacles in their path. Even with full sight, McLeod was too old and frail to do much about the place, leaving everything to fall on Skye’s slender shoulders. It wasn’t fair her being stuck all the way out here. Laramie was more than three days ride away, yet he couldn’t believe she had never visited there. The nearest town was about a three-hour ride away, and she hadn’t been there since her father died. This Mack person was their only lifeline to the outside world.

  “Don’t make a sound, Jupiter or you’ll spook these cattle and I want them.” If he could increase the herd, there looked to be plenty of range land about this forlorn little ranch which could be viable. He kneed the horse forward and they quietly slipped away.

  Back at the ranch, Skye was splitting some of the large logs he had cut from the fallen tree. Once she saw him, she dashed over, her pretty face wreathed in a smile. He swung out of the saddle and dragged her against him, lowered his head and devoured her lips. Reluctantly he pushed her away, even though he was tempted to pick her up, carry her to the bedroom and spend the rest of the day there.

  “I’ve found a few stray cattle down in your pasture near the creek. Twenty or so head. It would be a great addition to your herd if we can round them up.”

  “I’ll go change. Can you saddle my horse?”

  “Sure, I’ll have a quick coffee first, I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

  “Oh?” Her face creased with worry and he was touched that she cared so much for him.

  He grinned. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”