Married to Claim the Rancher's Heir Page 13

  “Married?” Gabe’s shout nearly echoed off the ceiling.

  A bit confused, she asked, “To whom?”

  Gabe’s response answered her question. “I’m not marrying her,” he said. “She’s as stubborn as a mule and as hardheaded.”

  At the realization that was what the judge meant, she gasped and then coughed. “Me? You’re the one who’s stubborn. And ornery. And obstinate and unforgiving and...” She couldn’t think of enough insults and turned to the judge. “I can’t marry him. I can’t. That’s all there is to it.”

  Judge Schofield frowned. “Your lawyers assured me that neither of you are promised to someone else.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Gabe said. “I wouldn’t marry her if—”

  “Why not?” the judge asked. “You just said you want what’s best for Ruby.” Glancing at her, he added, “You both have. Or were you lying?”

  Her mind was reeling so fast the room was practically spinning. “Of course I wasn’t, but—”

  “This is ridiculous,” Gabe growled as he turned to his lawyer.

  “It’s the best resolution, Gabe,” his lawyer said. “Best for Ruby.”

  Janette glanced at her lawyer.

  “You did say you’d do anything for Ruby,” he whispered.

  “That didn’t include marrying Gabe,” she replied.

  “Then you aren’t willing to do anything?”

  She wanted to scream, which wouldn’t help. But what would? In her worst dreams she’d never have imagined this.

  Gabe was still arguing with his lawyer and was silenced only by the judge pounding his gavel on the desk again.

  “I’ve not only been given the duty of seeing to Ruby’s welfare,” the judge said, “but of seeing that Max and Anna’s last wishes are met, the very thing they took the time to put to paper and have duly witnessed. The two of you marrying is the obvious, and the best, solution of all.”

  “Not to me,” Gabe argued.

  Janette was about to agree with Gabe, when an idea formed. Perhaps arguing was the wrong choice. Well, of course, one should never argue with a judge, but in this case, it held even more weight. If she agreed and Gabe refused, it would prove she was willing to do whatever it took, while he wasn’t. Drawing a deep breath, for she did need the fortitude, she forced her lips to form a slight smile. “Forgive me, Your Honor, my moment of shock has passed, and I do understand the magnitude of the responsibility your duties have placed upon you this morning. You indeed have found a way for Ruby to be well cared for and to honor Max and Anna’s wishes. I sincerely appreciate that, and...” She had to take another deep breath in order to quell the trembles inside and continue. “If that truly is your final decision, for Ruby’s sake, I would marry Mr. Callaway.”

  “You what?” Gabe asked, grabbing her arm.

  “I see you are a very reasonable and smart woman, Miss Parker,” Judge Schofield said with a smile. “Your commitment to your niece is admirable.”

  “Admirable?” Gabe barked.

  “Yes,” she said, smirking at him. “Admirable.”

  “Fine,” Gabe said, never taking his glaring eyes off her. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll marry her.”

  A shock far deeper than when the judge had said it shot through her. “You can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “You already said no.”

  “So did you,” Gabe answered.

  Janette balled her hands into fists. “Of course I did. And—”

  “You thought I’d continue to say no, and you’d win,” Gabe growled.

  That was exactly what she’d thought. Or hoped. Oh, he made her so mad. Trying to keep her anger—which had her trembling from head to toe—under control, she turned to the judge. “Your Honor, as you can see, Mr. Callaway isn’t sincerely open to—”

  Gabe interrupted her by asking, “When do you suggest this marriage take place?”

  Flustered, Janette shot another searing glare his way.

  “Right now,” Judge Schofield answered as he stood.

  Janette’s knees all but buckled. She may have crumpled onto the floor if her lawyer hadn’t grabbed her arm. The room was spinning, her heart pounding and her mind blank.

  “Then do it,” Gabe barked.

  Janette couldn’t think of a single thing to say as the judge began to speak again.

  “Gabe Callaway, do you take...?”

  Chapter Ten

  Once the papers were signed, and after ignoring the four men smiling and offering their congratulations, Gabe grabbed Janette’s arm and all but dragged her toward the door. He’d entered this damn office a free man and was leaving with a life sentence.

  “I hope you’re happy,” he growled while slamming the door shut behind them.

  “Me? Happy?”

  She twisted, but he tightened the hold he had on her arm.

  Glaring at him, she snapped, “If you’d have kept your mouth shut—”

  “You’re the one who agreed to it first.”

  “I was going to suggest that we have time to think about it when you said let’s do it right now.”

  Turning to walk along the boardwalk, he said, “I didn’t say let’s do it right now. Schofield did.”

  “And you agreed!”

  He had because he hadn’t been able to think of anything else to say. She’d made him too mad for that. Swallowing a curse, he tugged her forward to cross the street. Married. Married! How the hell had he let that happen?

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To make sure the train waits for us. There’s no use hanging around here. Once we’ve secured our passage, we’ll go retrieve our bags.”

  “What time does the train leave?”

  The whistle that sounded answered for him, and together, they increased their speed. And again when the hiss of steam filled the air. Running, they arrived at the depot just as the train started rolling forward. Gabe considered shouting for it to stop, but that would be useless. Instead he let out a curse as they both skidded to a stop.

  Watching the train pick up speed made a hard knot form in Gabe’s stomach. Of all days, today the train left on time. He could hire a wagon or some saddle horses, but they’d arrived home about the same time as if they waited for the next westbound train. Either way, he’d be stuck with Janette at his side for the next forty-eight hours. Actually, Schofield’s decision had him stuck with her at his side the rest of his life.

  “Now what do we do?” she asked.

  He spun around and glared back toward town. At least here, he could get away. She had her hotel room and he had his. That wouldn’t be the case if he hired a wagon.

  “We wait,” he said, not impressed in the least. “For the train day after tomorrow.”

  “Well, this is about the worst day ever.”

  “You don’t say?”

  Her glare was icy enough to frost over a window. With a huff, she spun around.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To the telegraph office.”

  “Why?”

  “To send a message letting Thelma know I won’t be arriving as scheduled.”

  He probably should follow but didn’t. It wasn’t far. Not as far as the sheriff’s office. The one they’d just exited, the one where his life had changed forever. Damn it to all. Schofield had had this planned from the moment they’d walked in this morning. He’d been betrayed. That’s what it was.

  Betrayed by his own lawyer. That shouldn’t have happened, and he’d let Michael know that.

  He watched until she’d entered the telegraph office and then started walking. His first order of business was to get out of this suit, and then he’d let the judge and sheriff know what he thought of their scheme.

  * * *

  Janette took a moment to calm her nerves or to build up her
courage—one was as needed as the other—before she crossed the waiting area of the telegraph office. The man behind the counter was staring at her expectantly. His round glasses reminded her of the judge, and that caused yet another reaction inside her.

  She sighed heavily.

  Married.

  To Gabe Callaway.

  It was as unbelievable as it was frightful.

  It was all his fault, too. If he’d have kept quiet, she’d have thought of something.

  “May I help you?”

  “Yes,” she said, stepping up to the high counter. “I’d like to send a telegram to Kansas City.”

  The man licked the tip of his pencil and then positioned it over a sheet of a paper. “To whom?”

  “Mrs. Thelma Hanks,” Janette started, and then told him the address while attempting to decide what the message should say. In the end, she made it short. Stating only that unforeseen circumstances had arisen and that she’d send another telegram as to when she’d be arriving home.

  She then paid the required coins and told the man she’d be at the Hays House if a return reply arrived. With that all complete, she left and crossed the street. She couldn’t be married to Gabe. That simply would not work. The judge may have thought it was the best decision, but it most certainly wasn’t. Not for Ruby, and not for her.

  Glad to see no one behind the desk at the hotel, she hurried up the stairs. Sy was a darling older gentleman, but she truly didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

  It wasn’t until she was in her room with the door locked behind her that she took a moment to listen, wondering if Gabe had also returned to the hotel. The silence that echoed in her ears was a relief, even as it made her question where he’d gone.

  Having no idea and more despondent than she may ever have been before, she plopped down on the bed. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? She had been the one to agree to it first, but she hadn’t had time to think through the consequences.

  Pushing off the bed, she rose and walked to the window. There were no noises coming from the saloon today, then again, it wasn’t the building her eyes settled on. That was the sheriff’s office. The building she’d walked in as a single, independent woman and exited married, a wife. There had been a time when she’d wanted that, when she’d been very young and naive. As she’d grown older, her parents’ marriage had changed her opinion, and then Isaac had completely wiped away any lingering thoughts of someday trusting a man.

  It hadn’t started out that way. When she’d first encountered Isaac, heard his praise of her sewing, she’d been thrilled. He’d called her talented and masterful. In public. It had been during Ilene Cough’s birthday. Mrs. Cough had requested a very intricate and unique gown for her daughter. It had taken weeks to design and sew a gown that had made Ilene look like a princess out of a fairy tale. Ilene wasn’t the most attractive girl and it had taken skill to sew a fitted gown that hadn’t made her appear larger than she was. Mrs. Cough had been so pleased with the end results she’d insisted Janette attend the birthday party.

  She had attended the party and had been standing along the wall, near the punch table when she’d overheard others whispering about Ilene’s beautiful gown. Isaac had been there and claimed the creator of that gown had to not only be talented, a master with a needle, but also part magician because that gown would make whoever wore it beautiful.

  Janette hadn’t approached him or acknowledged that she’d heard his statement, but his praise had spread through the room. People had flocked to her that night, requesting an appointment to discuss sewing gowns for them.

  Later that week, when Isaac had quite surprisingly shown up on her doorstep, he’d told her he’d never seen gowns as beautiful as the ones she created. He’d claimed to have been an acquaintance of the Coughs, which later proved to be a lie. His first of many.

  Stopping her thoughts before they went any deeper, Janette turned away from the window. Her reflection appeared in the mirror across the room, and she stepped closer, examining her image with critical eyes. Her dress mainly. Though it was nice and well sewn, it was not what she’d have called a dress worthy of an event as important as a wedding.

  Then again, it wasn’t meant to be a wedding gown any more than she was meant to be a bride.

  Grabbing the key off the dresser, she left the room. Mr. Sutherland hadn’t earned the money she’d paid him, and that needed to be remedied.

  The note on her lawyer’s office door stating he’d be in court all morning increased her anger. She headed toward the sheriff’s office, fully prepared to request Mr. Sutherland speak with her. However, the men gathered around the front door of the sheriff’s office caused her to enter the store across the street instead, which happened to have a wide selection of material at decent prices. Her thoughts went to Ruby. Very little had fitted in Ruby’s small traveling bag, and though she had packed a trunk and paid to have it delivered to Kansas City, the child needed more clothing.

  She purchased a few items, and, concluding the crowd still outside the sheriff’s office meant Mr. Sutherland was still occupied, she entered the store next door. From there she visited several other stores. Keeping her focus on what Ruby needed wilted the anger that had been boiling inside her, and when the clerk at the last store had told her about one on the edge of town that might have the linen she’d asked about, that’s where she headed. Something light and airy that would be perfect to make summer sleeping gowns and thin socks for Ruby were the only things she had left to purchase.

  Janette had no trouble finding Melvin’s Hardware, for the name was clearly painted across the false front of the white building. Upon entering, she was instantly greeted by a young woman with blond hair and big brown eyes.

  “May I help you?” the woman asked.

  “I was told you might have some thin linen material,” Janette replied, glancing around and wondering if she’d entered the wrong store. Barrels of nails sat on the counter, the shelves behind it contained guns and ammunition and shovels, hammers, lanterns and other such items filled the two display tables near the windows.

  “Yes, we do,” the woman replied while walking around the counter. “It’s over here. It’s lovely material, but I must warn you, it’s loosely woven, so sewing with it has proved difficult.” With a delightful smile, she added, “Maybe it’s just me, but everything I’ve made out of it has torn apart at the seams. And buttonholes are nearly impossible.”

  “Are you hand stitching or using a machine?” Janette asked, following the woman around tables to the far back corner of the store.

  “A machine. However, the mending, which has been needed on every garment, I’ve done by hand,” the woman replied.

  Janette nodded as the woman lifted a bolt of ecru-colored linen off a shelf and set it down on a nearby table. “When sewing loosely woven material, it’s imperative to reinforce it for buttonholes, and I use overcast seams so there are no raw edges, eliminating them from coming unraveled.”

  “What is an overcast seam?” The woman shook her head. “I’m Marilee, by the way.”

  Smiling, she nodded. “Janette. And an overcast seam has the raw edges rolled in. Like this,” she said, picking up two edges of the linen. “You need a wide seam allowance. After stitching your initial seam, you fold over the edges, press it with a hot iron and then stitch it again.”

  “Oh, what a marvelous idea,” Marilee said with excitement. “Does it work for socks, too? I made several pairs for my daughters and myself, but they keep tearing, especially at the toe seam.”

  “Yes, I use it for socks,” Janette answered. “However, rather than making a seam at the toe, I cut the material long enough to fold over and make the seam across the top of the sock. It not only wears better but is more comfortable.”

  “I imagine it would be,” Marilee replied, smiling brightly. “I must ask, how do you reinforce buttonholes? Melvin got such a
good deal on the material, I’ve sewn several sleeping gowns for my daughters, but the buttonholes keep ripping open.”

  Janette ran her fingers over the linen. The loose weave made it soft and airy, and therefore perfect for sleeping gowns and undergarments in the summer heat. “On something this fine, hand sewing the slit is a must. Machines aren’t gentle enough and break down the material.”

  “I sincerely wish I’d known all this a year ago,” Marilee said with a giggle. “I’ve been so disappointed in the material I warn others every time they show interest in buying it. Melvin claims we’ll never sell it all.”

  “Well, I will buy several yards,” Janette said, thinking of all the undergarments she’d make for Ruby. “Three should do nicely.”

  “I will give you one yard for free if you would draw me a pattern of the socks you described. With three daughters, I’m stitching up toe seams every evening.”

  Marilee was so friendly and likable, Janette grinned, and talking about sewing was a reprieve from all her other worries. “For a free yard, I will show you how to make them. If you have time and your sewing machine is nearby.”

  “It’s right next door,” Marilee said. “Just let me tell Melvin. He’s in the storeroom.”

  * * *

  Hours later, there were three pairs of socks on the table, and Janette was instructing Marilee how to reinforce the buttonholes on the shift they’d sewn together—using overcast seams. The sewing machine was only a year old. Marilee had shared the story of how Melvin had purchased it for her last year—from the same salesman who had sold him the linen.

  The machine sewed perfectly, but there was nothing about it that made Janette wish for a new one. Hers was several years old. However, the only difference between it and this one was that the shuttlecock was smaller on the newer machine, which merely meant the bobbin needed to be filled more often, and that certainly wasn’t convenient.

  “These are perfect,” Janette said, inspecting the garment when Marilee was done sewing. “I promise these buttonholes will hold up.”