The Cowboy and the Quaker Page 4

  “You have a baby to consider.”

  “Does, does Ben know about the baby?” Rachael wanted to be annoyed at Lottie for discussing her private affairs with the man, but somehow couldn’t be. She had been so kind, had saved her life. Glen, on the couple of occasions she had seen him, was pleasant.

  “I’ll hear him out, Lottie, but no promises.”

  “All right, agreed. I’ll get him to come in now.”

  “I’m in bed.” Rachael’s hands fluttered at her throat. “My face is black and blue. She had been shocked on seeing her reflection in the mirror. She looked dreadful. Two black eyes, a swollen nose and lips, and scratches on her cheeks.

  The nightgown Lottie had loaned her exposed her neck and shoulders because it was too loose, but she was reasonably well covered. What would he be like? A man who couldn’t find himself a wife? Why was he offering marriage to a woman he had never met? Some horrible weedy specimen no doubt. Self-preservation brushed every nerve ending in her body. Unless he was completely revolting she was almost desperate enough to accept. She couldn’t live off Lottie and Glen for any length of time. It wouldn’t be fair. Pregnant and with no references; what kind of work could she get?

  Lottie left the room and Rachael waited. Tension built up until it became unbearable. If she had been able to, she would have climbed out of bed and run away. “Where would you go?” her conscience asked.

  She heard Lottie say, “She’s a bit reluctant.”

  “Makes two of us,” a well-modulated voice replied.

  Rachael felt like her head was on the chopping block waiting for the axe to fall.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Lottie said.

  The bedroom door swung open. A tall, slim man stepped forward, hovering in the doorway. He held a black Stetson in his hand. His green eyes surveyed her. His face was clean shaven, handsome in a rugged kind of way. “Sonofabitch, someone sure messed up your face.”

  “Yes, he did.” Silence stretched ominously between them. He kept staring at her, a muscle convulsed in his jaw. He raked his fingers through his dark brown hair.

  “Um, um.” He cleared his throat. “I’m Benjamin Lonigan.”

  Pleased to meet you, she nearly said. “Rachael Fairchild.”

  He took a couple of hesitant steps into the room. “I guess Lottie has told you the position I’m in.”

  “Yes, you need a wife so you can inherit a ranch.”

  “I’ve worked hard on that ranch for ten years; my uncle promised it to me. I’m his nearest kin.”

  She moved her head and winced. “I’m sorry.” She suddenly felt contrite. Who was she to condemn him? She was contemplating a sham marriage for food and a roof over her head. “My nerves are shot to pieces.”

  “Any wonder. You’ve taken a hell of a beating.” He edged closer. “I need to marry within the next couple of weeks. I love the ranch; I don’t want to live anywhere else. If you agree, it will be a marriage in name only. After a year, you will be free to leave. I’ll give you enough money to set yourself up somewhere else.”

  “Well away from you?”

  “Yes.”

  Rachael wondered why it rankled that he wanted her out of Deadwood. “I might like it here.”

  “If you’re not agreeable to my terms, just say so,” he snapped. “As I hear it, you’ve got even more reason to want marriage than me.”

  “How much has Lottie told you?”

  “That you were beaten and robbed by some low down skunk here in Deadwood, and in Boston you had to skedaddle after getting pregnant to a man who married some-one else.”

  Ben was certainly blunt and to the point, but she preferred it to honeyed lies.

  “He…he said we were just anticipating our marriage by a few weeks. I thought we were betrothed.” She blinked back tears. “The ring he gave me turned out to be fake. Lottie tried to sell it for me, but the stone I thought was a diamond, was a piece of glass.”

  “Sonofabitch.”

  “Yes he was.” Rachael gave a wan smile. “His mother was no lady, although she belonged to Boston society and thought herself better than everyone else.”

  He grinned, and what a difference it made to him. “Lottie said you were a Quaker. I haven’t heard you say thee or thou.”

  “My grandparents brought me up and they were. When they died, I was about nine years old and I went to live with an aunt who was Wesleyan Methodist.” She played with the neckline of her nightgown. “Lottie said you were a man of honor. If I agree to marry you, you swear not to…to claim your marital rights.”

  “This will be a marriage in name only, remember, but I promise not to do anything you don’t want me to do. In return, you have to promise not to seduce me.”

  She gasped.

  “I couldn’t resist that.” He laughed. “The Will stipulates that my wife is to stay at the ranch for a year. Are you prepared to do that?”

  “Yes.”

  He reached over and picked up her hand. A tingle shot up her arm. Had he felt it? He had the strangest expression on his face. “Shake on it,” he said.

  His handshake was firm, his slightly callused hand engulfing hers.

  “When does Doc think you’ll be well enough to get out of bed?”

  “Tomorrow. I’ll have to take things easy for a while.”

  “I’ll see the preacher and get things arranged for the day after tomorrow. No point wasting time. We might as well get this over and done with. Glen can stand up for me, Lottie for you. As soon as we’re hitched we’ll head out to the ranch.”

  “Where is your ranch?”

  A couple of hours ride away, longer with a buckboard, but you’re in no condition to mount a horse. When is your child due?”

  “In about six months.”

  He gnawed his lip. “When it gets closer to your time to be delivered, you’d better move in here and stay with Lottie, she won’t mind.”

  Silence hung between them. He was uneasy, Rachael could see by the way he shuffled his feet, and clenched and unclenched his hands.

  “You’re fond of Lottie?”

  “Yes. Glen and Lottie were neighbors of mine in Missouri, we grew up together. Lottie is one of only two decent women I know. A shame she got mixed up with Peter. The war sent him a bit loco.” His eyes were full of pain and anguish.

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “It’s all in the past.”

  He spoke the words, but she had doubts they were true. His eyes showed he was still haunted by what happened to him. According to Lottie it was her sister who had betrayed Ben and his brother, and the woman was betrothed to him. They must have been very young at the time, but betrothed nonetheless. He had every reason to feel bitter and to have a low opinion of women. Just like she was entitled to her belief that men were evil, lustful creatures.

  Chapter Five

  The swelling had gone down, but the bruising was still evident. When Rachael, Lottie and Glen strolled over to the preacher’s house, Rachael ignored the haughty looks of disdain cast in their direction by a couple of elderly matrons.

  “Old mawks,” Glen hissed.

  Lottie had insisted on buying Rachael a blue gown with a lacy white collar. With Lottie’s help she had bathed and dressed, and if she could have hidden her face she would have felt pleased with her appearance. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon, as her lacerated scalp still hurt.

  “I bet the preacher hasn’t seen a bride with a face like yours.” Glen’s comment had Rachael noisily sucking in her breath.

  “Stop it, don’t be so tactless,” Lottie admonished him.

  “It’s all right, I know I’m beaten and awful looking.”

  The preacher lived in a white house next to the church. A buckboard was out the front with a brown horse munching oats from a nose-bag.

  “That’s Ben’s buckboard,” Lottie said, “so he’s here. I thought he might have stood you up.”

  The preacher, a tall somber looking man, greeted them at the
door and ushered them into his parlor. Ben wore a black suit and a white shirt. Rachael caught her breath. Her husband-to-be would have been a handsome man if he didn’t have that brooding expression on his face. He looked like he was on his way to a neck-tie party. Glen escorted her to his side.

  He nodded, although his startling green eyes ranged over her. They showed neither approval nor disapproval.

  The ceremony began; they made their vows, and it was all over in five minutes. They were man and wife for better or worse.

  “You may now kiss your bride,” the preacher said.

  Ben stared at her thick lower lip and leaned forward to brush his lips against her cheek. He smelt of leather, soap and man. None of the cloying cologne stuff George always wore. How could she have been fooled by such a man? Pasty white skin, soft hands, and an evil, predatory heart.

  “Come back to the saloon for a drink,” Glen invited, clapping Ben on the back.

  “No, thanks, I want to head back to the ranch straight away.”

  “I have to collect my belongings.”

  “I didn’t think you had anything much.” Ben scowled.

  “I don’t, but Lottie kindly brought me this gown. My other one was ripped, and I haven’t been well enough to mend it.”

  “Oh, all right,” he grudgingly agreed.

  “Don’t be such a grouch.” Lottie elbowed him in the ribs. “I still think you should stay a couple of nights at the hotel.”

  “The honeymoon suite?” Ben growled the words through clenched teeth.

  “You can hardly have separate rooms,” Glen butted in. “I mean, everyone has to think this is a normal marriage, right?”

  “Yes, dammit, that’s one of the reasons I want to get back to the ranch.”

  “Would you like me to wear a veil so no-one can see my ugly, battered face when we drive down the main street?”

  Ben gave an angry snort. “You and Lottie ride in the buckboard, I’ll lead it. He lifted Rachael up on to the seat. Turning to help Lottie, he stepped back when she climbed on board by herself.

  Rachael couldn’t believe how hurt she felt because Ben didn’t tell her she wasn’t ugly. Glen strode on ahead of them.

  “By the way,” Lottie said. “You should buy Rachael some clothes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s your wife now and hasn’t got any.”

  “What do you mean?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  “I arrived in Deadwood with only the clothes on my back. I lost everything in the fire.”

  “What fire?” Ben spat the question out.

  “Someone deliberately set fire to my house. I think George paid someone to kill me.”

  The breath whistled from between his teeth. “Are you loco?”

  “Of course Rachael isn’t loco. It stands to reason a man in his position with political aspirations couldn’t have any scandal attached to his name. If she were dead, it would guarantee her silence.”

  “He knew about the child?” Anger edged Ben’s voice.

  “One of his men told me to get out of town or face the consequences. Luckily for me, I was sitting up late planning lessons for my pupils when someone threw a lamp through the window. If I’d been asleep, I’d be dead.”

  “Rachael had to hide in the school privy for hours until it got light enough for her to see,” Lottie said. “Then she left town. I would have done the same thing if I’d been in her position. Then, to make matters worse, she arrives here and gets robbed. Not to mention, her uncle has been murdered.”

  “All right, take her to the mercantile, Lottie, and get her what she needs. Put it on my account.”

  “I can make do with what I’ve got for a while. I don’t want you spending your money on me.”

  “You’re my wife, so I’ll be responsible for your expenses for the next year, just don’t be too extravagant. I’ll drop you at the mercantile and have a drink with Glen while I’m waiting.”

  Rachael opened her mouth to protest but was silenced by Lottie wagging a finger at her. “Don’t argue. While you’re married to Ben you’re his responsibility.”

  Rachael could almost hear him grinding his teeth. His eyes darkened, changing from a clear emerald green to a deep moss color. She had never seen eyes that color before. His skin was tanned, his hair dark. Maybe that was why his eyes were so vivid.

  Outside the mercantile Ben lifted Rachael down. His touch was impersonal, and he quickly removed his hands and stepped back a pace. Do you cook?”

  “Yes.”

  “Buy what you need, but I’ve got plenty of flour, sugar, beans, salt, beef jerky and coffee. Don’t buy so much that you can’t carry it,” he instructed before leaping into the buckboard and slapping the horse’s backside with the reins.

  “Men,” Lottie said. “We should have made him stay with us. Have him select your undergarments.”

  Rachael laughed, then winced with pain. “I wouldn’t do that to him.”

  “Why not? He deserves it. The way he’s been snapping and snarling. It’s not your fault his uncle left that stupid clause in his Will.” Lottie linked arms with her as they entered the well-stocked store.

  “They weren’t close?”

  “They were very close. Old Samuel always promised Ben the ranch. Maybe he did go a bit loco toward the end. There again, perhaps he didn’t want Ben to remain a bachelor for the rest of his days.”

  “To leave him with so little time, that’s what I can’t understand,” Rachael said, glancing around the store with interest.

  “Ben left for Texas straight after the funeral, he only got back here a few days ago. Good morning,” Lottie greeted the middle-aged woman behind the counter. “She’s a pious old biddy,” she hissed in Rachael’s ear.

  “Mrs. Lonigan would like to buy a few things.”

  The woman opened and closed her mouth in shock. “Ben’s married?”

  “Yes, Rachael married him this morning. Young love. Isn’t it grand?”

  Rachael would have laughed if she could have, but it was too painful. The woman stared at her without saying a word.

  “Isn’t it shocking, Rachael arrives here to marry Ben, and someone assaults and robs her? A lady is not safe walking the streets of Deadwood these days. It’s becoming more and more lawless.”

  Rachael was starting to feel weary now, so she let Lottie do the buying. Two sets of underwear, two nightgowns. Lottie dashed around selecting hair pins, a brush, and ribbons.

  “Enough,” Rachael said.

  “You should have another gown. We’ll throw the other one away, I think it’s beyond repair. What else?”

  “Nothing. Oh well, currents, molasses, rice and a few spices for flavoring soups and stews. Seven or eight rashes of bacon maybe. I assume he would have chickens.”

  “Yes, I’m sure he does.” Lottie smiled. “His ranch house is comfortable enough, but needs a woman’s touch.”

  “I thought we could have bacon and eggs for supper, assuming we’ll be there before dark.”

  “Yes, you’ll have plenty of time. I’m enjoying having a female friend to shop and chat with. I’ve never had many of them over the years.”

  “I haven’t either. I’ll never be able to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You’re like the sister I never had.” Rachael squeezed Lottie’s arm.

  Loaded with parcels, they made their way to the private quarters at the back of the Flaming Star.

  “I think we spent too much money,” Rachael said worriedly.

  “Of course we didn’t,” Lottie scoffed. “Ben can afford it.”

  The men rose to their feet as the women entered the parlor. Glen grinned while Ben’s lips tightened.

  “If…if you think I’ve spent too much, I can take some of the clothes back.” Rachael put her parcels on a side table.

  “You haven’t spent too much.” Lottie gave Ben a saucy grin. “Any man who lets two women loose in a large mercantile store asks for everything he gets.”

 
“You’re incorrigible, Lottie, I swear.” Ben grinned.

  Rachael envied the obvious rapport between the two men and Lottie.

  “I think we should start for the ranch.” Ben drained his glass and stood.

  “Rachael and I were going to have coffee.” Lottie pouted.

  “I don’t want anything thank you.” She was anxious to leave, too. She was starting to feel weary and her back and head ached. If they didn’t leave soon, she doubted she’d be able to go. No point antagonizing Ben any more than she had to.

  The men carted out the shopping and stacked it in the back of the buckboard. Glen shook hands with her, Lottie gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek.

  “Ready?” Ben asked, not waiting for her reply, he put his hands around her waist and lifted her up into the seat, before springing up beside her. With a promise to bring Rachael in for a visit in a couple of weeks, Ben slapped the horse’s rump with the reins, and they set off.

  As they drove down the main street, a few people stopped to stare. Ben ignored them, staring straight ahead, not saying a word. As they passed by the graveyard, icy fingers grabbed her by the throat. A shudder shook her body, and she pressed her hand against her tender lips to stop a moan of distress escaping.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “I felt your body tremble.”

  “I was remembering what happened the last time I came here.”

  “You’ll be safe at the ranch, the evil varmint who bashed you will be long gone by now.”

  “What if he’s a local?”

  “Most likely he was a liquored up saddle tramp just passing through.”

  “He wasn’t liquored up; I would have smelt it on his breath. I think he’s connected with Mrs. Gleeson who owns the boarding house where I stayed.”

  “I didn’t particularly like the woman on the couple of occasions that I met her, but I’ve never heard anything about her being involved in criminal activities.”

  “She was the only person who knew I was coming out here. In fact, she encouraged me to come. Uncle Joe was supposed to have found gold in the Black Hills. That’s why I was beaten. My attacker thought I knew where he had hidden it. I doubt if he had any gold. If he’d struck it rich, why would he live in a shack out here?”