Wildcat Bride Page 9

  Ma laid a hand on her knee, patted it softly. “I know. We all do.”

  Twilight was settling, veiling the earth with a muted light that made everything look soft and gentle. A couple of men played a ballad on their guitars. The music matched the evening air with perfection.

  “You know, Eva,” Ma said, “I’d never make you do something you didn’t want to do.”

  Eva turned, and searched Ma’s wrinkled face for more. Her pale green eyes held a unique sincerity. “I know, Ma.”

  “I promised Willamina. It would always be your choice.” With that, Ma stood up and walked across the yard.

  Eva sat, wondering exactly what Ma meant. She hadn’t found a conclusion when Elliott stepped in front of her again. “Would you care for another dance?” he asked.

  Surrounded by her grandchildren, Ma, as if she sensed Eva’s stare, turned around. Ma smiled and gave a little nod. Eva looked up, found Elliott smiling down at her, and nodded, “Yes, Elliott, I’d like that.”

  ****

  Bug stepped off the train in Scott City. His shoulders dropped clear to his hips. The town was as dead as Dry Lake in July. The only thing moving was a dust devil stirred up by the wind. He hadn’t wired anyone, so he shouldn’t have expected someone to meet him, but would it have been too much to ask to at least see a familiar face? Hell, just a face.

  The train whistle blew as it began to chug away from the station. Moving across the platform, he found a hint of joy in the fact the porter hadn’t just tossed him out the window as the train rolled by.

  He made his way down the empty street to the livery. A closed sign flapped in the wind. “What the hell?” Spinning around, he looked for any sign of life.

  The sun was still out, yes, it was falling fast, but the whole town couldn’t be sleeping this early.

  Maybe there was some kind of a plague. He pinpointed the first house and bore his stare on the door. Nope, there wasn’t a red flag signaling quarantine. Picking out other doors, he searched them all for some type of sign from where he stood outside the livery.

  A whinny sounded behind the door. He pushed, and though it creaked on its hinges, the door swung open. Several horses stood in their stalls, munching on oats and swishing their tales at pesky flies.

  He searched, but couldn’t find anything to write with. Scratching his head at the emptiness of the town, he located tack and saddled a horse. He only needed it overnight. Hopefully, Art Rockford still owned the livery. The old man wouldn’t mind if he borrowed one.

  Riding out of town, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, once again, probing for anything that might say someone lived behind the dark windows. He pulled the horse up short. Hell, it was Saturday night and even the Bull’s Horn Saloon had a closed sign hanging on the door.

  He kneed the animal. Something was definitely wrong. Eva’s place was on the way to his. He’d stop there first. Besides wanting to see her, surely she’d know what was going on.

  The horse was heaving, and they were both sweating when he wondered which fell first, the reins from his fingers or his jaw. Eva’s little soddy had transformed itself into a two-story whitewashed house with red trim on every window. A matching barn stood off on one side.

  Something behind the house caught his attention. He reached down, gathered the reins, and made his way around the west end of the house that was covered with windows. There stood the soddy.

  He slipped from the saddle and looped the reins around a spindly tree. The big house looked as empty as those in Scott had, so he walked to the soddy.

  He didn’t go inside, not only because it, too, looked empty, but because the little fence beside it drew his attention. His heart thumped in his chest.

  “Aw, Willamina,” he whispered, opening the gate. Flowers, wilted and limp, lay near the base of the headstone. He knelt, and bowed his head.

  There were a million things he wanted to say. A hundred apologizes and a thousand I love yous, but none of them came out his mouth. They didn’t need to. The wind whistling over the prairie calmed, and Bug experienced a sweet peacefulness.

  He stayed there until the sun’s light mingled with the night sky falling to take its place. Wiping the backs of his hands over his eyes, he whispered, “I’ll be back to visit you on a regular basis. I promise,” before he made his way out of the little enclosure. Glancing at the empty house, wondering about how many other changes he’d encounter, he climbed on the borrowed horse.

  Nothing ever stayed the same. He’d always known that, but had never understood it as profoundly as he did right now. Letting the animal set the pace, he traveled down the road to Snake’s place, contemplating how he’d react to other changes that must have occurred.

  The music hit his ears first, a soft lullaby type tune. The music was followed by the shouts and laughter of people. Lots of people. Bug brought the animal to a stop and stared at the party. That’s why no one was in Scott. Every last one of them had to be at his brother’s house.

  His family didn’t know he was coming, so it couldn’t be a party for him. It sure didn’t look like a funeral. He nudged the horse forward.

  The crowd was so busy not a single person noticed him. Oh, some glanced his way, but not long enough to recognize him. He unsaddled the horse and let it loose in the corral with several dozen others, and then made his way to the yard. Another song had started up and couples, arms folded around each other, swayed to the soft tune emitting from the strings of a pair of guitars.

  He picked out couples, Kid and Jessie, Skeeter and Lila, Hog and Randi, and Snake and Summer.

  There were a few others he knew, but more that he didn’t.

  Then, as if he’d been sucker punched, his gut hit his backbone. Eva hung onto a tall fella as he sashayed her slowly over the ground. Her face looked up at the man’s, and was smiling, as was the fella’s.

  Bug balled the hands hanging at his side.

  “Uncle Bug! Hey Pa! It’s Uncle Bug!”

  Eva dropped her hands from Elliott’s shoulders, turning to where August’s shout had come from. As if it would help to hold the sob at the back of her throat, she covered her mouth with one hand.

  It was Bug. Standing not ten feet away. Her heart started and stopped a dozen times within a spilt second. She saw no one, heard nothing, except him. Starting at his boots, she followed the long lines of his legs, over his hips, up his chest, neck, and chin. When her eyes met his, she gasped again.

  He glared at her just as he had back in New York, when she’d told him about Willamina. Her nose burnt as she inhaled, trying to hold the tears at bay. He’d never forgive her. Never.

  His eyes never wavered as he walked forward.

  Every step brought him closer. She couldn’t have moved even if she wanted to. Her hand did fall away from her mouth when he stopped in front of her.

  “Bug,” she muttered.

  He grabbed her, one hand on each side of her head, and the next instant his mouth crushed against hers. The heat and fury of his lips took her even more by surprise than his appearance had, but it only lasted a second, for then her mouth pinned beneath his, leaped into life. Searching, wanting, needing, her lips mingled, tasted, and explored his mouth as feverishly as his did hers.

  Her hands found his sides and dug into the leather of his vest. She stepped closer, pressing her breasts against his solid chest. His fingers dug into her hair, squeezing her scalp with divine pressure, and his tongue was in her mouth, hers in his. The action had her head swooning and her toes curling.

  She wrapped her arms around his back, holding on and begging him to never, ever stop.

  She sucked in air every chance she had, knowing she needed it to live. But she wanted more.

  He was devouring her from the inside out, the outside in, and she responded, knowing she needed him more than she required air.

  He was the one to finally break their connection.

  Trailing kisses along the side of her face, he
pressed her head against his chest and laid his cheek on the top of her head. “Eva, oh, Eva girl,” he moaned.

  Kissing the skin left open by the v of his shirt, she said the only thing repeating itself in her head, “Bug, oh, Bug.”

  Chapter Eight

  The world seemed so perfect with his arms holding her tight. Eva had no idea what went on around her, that is until Bug lifted his head.

  “August,” he said, “Find the preacher.”

  “Uh?”

  Eva didn’t know if she said it, or if August had.

  Bug grasped her face again, tugging and forcing her to look straight into his eyes. The grin on his face made his eyes glimmer in the pale light. “Find a preacher, August,” he repeated. “Eva and I are getting married.”

  Her heart stopped mid-beat. “W-we are?” she stuttered.

  “Yes, we are,” he said, dipping his face to hers.

  Cheers broke out, along with clapping and shouting.

  His lips found hers again, and her heart leaped back into life. Thumping and jumping every direction. He kissed her long and hard, until the world around them ceased to exist.

  She was somewhere lost in a brilliant, wonderful place when a sharp and thundering blast rattled her eardrums. Eva spun about, whether on her own or with Bug’s help she had no idea. Blinking and shaking her head at the ringing in her ears, she attempted to focus on the crowd of men and women.

  Everyone stared at the house.

  Ma Quinter stood on the front step. Her big shotgun was in her hands, and the barrel, pointed at the sky, had smoke swirling out the end.

  “Dang it, Stephanie, put that blasted thing away!” Sheriff Turley shouted.

  Ma pointed the gun at the Sheriff. “Stay right there, Malcolm.” The barrels swung to the edge of the crowd. “You, too, Reverend Kirkpatrick. There ain’t gonna be no wedding tonight.”

  Eva froze.

  Kid shouldered his way past the men, holding his arms out in front of him. “Give me the gun, Ma.”

  “There ain’t gonna be no wedding, Kid.” Ma repeated.

  Kid walked up the stairs. “No, Ma, there won’t be a wedding tonight.”

  “I mean it, Kid.”

  “Just give me the gun, Ma. I promise there won’t be a wedding tonight,” Kid repeated calmly.

  Ma handed the gun over, and the look in her eyes pierced Eva’s heart. She read the apology, but there were no answers for the zillion questions zipping through her mind.

  “What the hell,” Bug exclaimed, staring at the porch.

  The girls, Jessie, Lila, Randi, and Summer, rushed past Kid. Still frozen, Eva watched as they escorted Ma into the house. Her mind couldn’t comprehend it all. Bug being home, asking her to marry him…And Ma saying no.

  “What’s wrong with Ma?” Bug asked.

  Eva had no answer, but even if she had, Snake, in his calm and understanding way, said, “She’s just shocked, Bug. We all are. Why didn’t you say you were coming home?”

  “Yeah,” Hog agreed. “We barely hear from you for three years, and then you show up, ready to marry little Eva, here.” One of Hog’s big arms wrapped around Eva’s shoulders and pulled her away from Bug.

  Bug snatched her elbow, tugging her back.

  “Everyone’s always known Eva and I would get married.”

  Skeeter, tall and wiry, stepped in front of Bug.

  “Maybe three years ago. Things are different now.”

  Snake, Hog, and Skeeter were all big men, with blond wavy hair and pale gray-green eyes like Ma’s.

  Eva had never doubted the brothers liked her, always knew they would stand up for her or protect her if the need ever arose, but she’d never dreamed they’d prevent her from obtaining the one thing she wanted more than anything else in this world—their little brother.

  Bug, lips pursed, stared at each of his brothers.

  Tension sparked in the air.

  Kid, the oldest, and the one Bug’s dark hair and eyes resembled, stepped up to the gathering then.

  His gaze was controlled and even as it went from brother to brother. When his dark eyes landed on Bug, he shook his head. “What are you trying to do?

  Get us all killed.”

  “Hell no, Ki—”

  “You waltz in here like you were just home yesterday, grab Eva, and tell August to get the preacher,” Kid interrupted. “No, hello. No, good to see you. No, I’m home!” He exaggerated a shout by throwing his arms in the air. “Did you really think that wasn’t going to set Ma off? Did you lose all your brains out east?”

  “No, Kid, I-I,” Bug stuttered, glancing between the brothers.

  Kid looked at her. His brown eyes, softened.

  “You all right, Eva?”

  She nodded, but for some reason, couldn’t look at Bug.

  Kid gestured toward the crowd of folks murmuring and shuffling about. “Snake, go tell your guests the ruckus is over.” He glanced at Bug. “But the party’s not.” Grabbing Bug around the waist, Kid hoisted him in the air. “Our little brother is home!”

  Skeeter was the voice she heard above the others. “Start the music, fellas! We got some celebrating to do!”

  Eva took a step away, but as soon as Kid let him down, Bug’s hand found her elbow again and tightened to spin her about.

  “Eva, what I said, I meant. We’re getting married.” Bug nodded toward the house. “If not tonight, tomorrow then.”

  She bit her lip, glancing between him and the house.

  “Don’t you want to marry me?” he questioned.

  The perplexed look on his face made her step closer.

  “Yes,” she admitted, resting a hand on his chest.

  The solid thud of his heart ricocheted of her palm.

  “Yes, I do, Bug.” Her gaze went to the house again.

  “But right now, I better go see to Ma. Make sure she’s all right.”

  He looked at her perceptively, as if reading every pitter-patter of her heart. A tiny grin lifted the sides of his mouth before he nodded. “All right.”

  She started to walk away, but he still had a hold of her elbow and stopped her once again. “Eva, how do you feel about redheaded kids?”

  Caught off guard and more than a little confused, she answered, “I think redheaded kids are just fine.”

  “So, you’d be okay if we had, say, three of them?”

  Her cheeks flushed at the thought of the intimate act that produced children. She couldn’t help but smile. The thought of having children with Bug was more than pleasurable. Attempting to downplay her delight, she warned, “Since we both have brown hair, I’d say it’s highly unlikely we’d end up with one redheaded child, let alone three.”

  “But if we did, have three, you’d be okay with it?” She’d agree to litter of puppies. Squelching a giggle, she nodded. “Yes, I’d be okay with it.”

  “Good,” he let out a loud sigh.

  It was quite baffling. Her forehead tightened as she turned for the house again.

  “Eva,” Bug said, stopping her yet again. “What happened in New York, those things I said, I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re gullible. And you were right. There wasn’t anything I could have done about Willamina.”

  “Oh, Bug.” She fell back into his arms, overwhelmed by the guilt that roared up to slap her insides. “I’m so sorry about that.”

  “Shh,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

  “It doesn’t matter now at all.” Rubbing his cheek against her head, he repeated, “Not at all.”

  The crowd moved in on them then, slapping Bug’s back and offering greetings of hello. The actions forced Bug and Eva to separate, and with the men shouldering their way closer to him, he couldn’t stop her as she slipped away. Making her way to the house, she did glance over her shoulder.

  Standing a good half of a head taller than most of the other men, less his brothers, Bug’s gaze met hers. His casual, yet, saucy wink sent h
er heart leaping about again. She grinned before turning around and bounding to the house.

  Bug wanted to follow her, he didn’t ever want Eva out of his sight again, but he hadn’t forgotten the wrath of Ma. That would take a whole lot more than three years to forget. He wanted to see her, too.

  Ma was one of a kind, and she loved her family to no end. But he’d let the women calm her down a touch before making his way into the house. No matter what Kid thought, he hadn’t lost one iota of his brain.

  “Uncle Bug! Uncle Bug!” Something hit his chest so hard he had to lock his knees to keep from tumbling backwards. August wrapped both arms about his neck and created a choke hold on Bug that was almost life threatening. “I knew it was you. I just knew it!”

  Bug caught the kid around the waist and hoisted him up, hugging and at the same time, keeping August from cutting off his air flow.

  “I knew it was you as soon as you walked into the yard.” August leaned back, eyeing Bug. “Where you been anyway?”

  “You know I’ve been in Pennsylvania. You wrote me several times,” Bug answered.

  “Yeah, but you didn’t write back much.”

  Bug set August on the ground. “Sorry. I’m not much of a letter writer.” Rubbing the kid’s mop of blond hair, he said, “Whoa, you’ve grown!” August stood nearly chest level.

  “Yeah, well, I’m eleven now. If you’d been home, you’d know that.”

  Bug automatically turned toward the house. The women were still behind the closed door. “If I’d been home, there’re a lot of things I’d know.”

  August started talking about all the things Bug had missed, from Snake and Summer’s two-year-old son Drew, to how August’s big yellow lab, Jerome was the best guard dog in the state. Bug didn’t have a chance to answer. Someone slapped him on the back.

  “Come on, little brother,” Snake said, “Gerald hauled most of the Bull’s Horn out and set it up behind the hayshed where Ma wouldn’t see.”

  Hog, laughing his belly laugh, said, “Not that it did any good. She was back there before he served his first beer.” He punched Bug in the arm, and then hooked his elbow around Bug’s neck. While tucking Bug’s head into his big shoulder, Hog knocked off Bug’s hat and knuckled the top of his head.