Boone managed to climb out of bed and stagger the few steps to the table. The simple act winded him, though, and brought home how very weak he remained. Recovering from the chest wound would take more time than he’d first thought, but he was alive, thanks to Rachel’s efforts, and he would.
When she and his brother entered, laden with food and dishes, he sensed something had happened. Their tight, closed expressions warned him. He could remember times when a small Ezekiel got in trouble, the time he’d gotten into one of Ma’s just-baked apple pies and eaten half, or the time he’d forgot to shut the henhouse door, and the birds escaped. That little fellow had worn an expression much like the one he did now, and his air of pretending to be innocent was familiar. Rachel wasn’t smiling, and her eyes were brimming with tears.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “What happened?”
“Mary did,” his brother replied in a tense tone. “She accused us of stealing, though Rachel paid her with a gold piece some time ago. She wants more money for us to stay here and keep getting grub, whether Rachel fixes it or Graciela. Wants the room back, too, said she only let you stay because she thought you were dying. And she said some things that hurt Rachel’s feelings too.”
Boone took in the information and cussed. He knew Mary was mercenary, but he had money, and that could be handled. Rachel, though, was something different. “What did she say? Honey, tell me.”
Rachel put the coffee pot down and dropped into the chair. “There’s talk about me, that I’m not a respectable woman, not when I’m sharing space with both of you. There’s gossip, and some, like Kurtz, want to run me out of town.”
The tears she’d held back flowed down her cheeks, and the sight of them hurt Boone more than if they had been his. “Aw, Rachel, honey, don’t fret. I won’t let that happen, not ever. You’re a good woman, and we know it.”
“Maybe I’m not,” she wailed. “She made it sound like I’m no better than one of the sportin’ gals, maybe worse, taking both of you into my bed. I won’t be able to stay here, and I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Boone glanced at Zeke, who nodded. “It’s all pretty much what Mary said, Boone.”
He sighed and stood up with effort. Boone moved behind Rachel’s chair and put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t cry, Rachel. Mary’s bitter, and she’s mean. She’s likely jealous because you’re young and pretty, and you got what she’ll never have.”
Her sobs slacked. “What could that be?”
“You have me,” he said, surprised she didn’t know. “C’mon, lift your head. I want you to see me when I say what I’m gonna say.”
Rachel shuddered, then did as he asked. She sat up straight and turned to him. He sat back down before he swooned but pulled his chair so he faced her.
“Rachel, I’d rather say this standing on my own two feet, but at least I’m not in bed,” he began. The words he wanted proved hard to find. “I ain’t been trifling with you, honey. If you’re willing, I want to marry you and bring you home with me to Kentucky.”
She stared at him, her blue eyes so dark they almost appeared to be black.
“Why?” she said. “To save my reputation?”
The bitterness in her tone, like old hickory nuts, didn’t fit her, he thought.
Boone shook his head. “No, because…I love you, Rachel. I figured you might know that, and I’ve hoped you might feel the same. I want to be your man, before God and for always.”
The distress on her face faded. A faint smile flirted around her lips. “Is that true?” she asked in a broken whisper. “I heard you say something like that to Zeke, but I thought I might be dreaming.”
He touched her cheek and wiped away a stray tear. “It’s true, I swear to God, Rachel. It’s like that bit from the Bible, from Solomon, ‘I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.’ Maybe you don’t feel the same, not yet, but I hope that you will.”
If she didn’t, his heart might shrivel up and die. He’d never felt anything for a woman what he did for Rachel. Maybe she’d just been kind, he thought, with a sinking feeling. Maybe he’d been wrong as could be. Waiting for her to say something stretched into an eternity, and he’d almost begun to wish he’d died after all when she took his hands in hers.
“Boone,” she said in the way that made his name sound like a caress. “Boone Wilson, I love you. I think I’ve loved you from that very first day on the porch. If you know your Bible at all, you might know this from the Book of Ruth, ‘Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.’ That’s how I feel, Boone, I’ll go with you to Kentucky or to the moon.”
He whooped with joy, and although he figured he might end up on the floor, he pulled her onto his lap and held her close. Boone kissed her as she put her arms around his neck, his mouth claiming her as his as surely as if he’d branded her. He snuggled her tight and nuzzled her with a few more light kisses. The moment might have lasted forever or at least until he fell out in a faint, but his brother interrupted.
“I reckon that means you’re getting married,” he said. “I’m glad, but the food’s gonna get cold, and Boone’s gonna end up laid out on the floor.”
Rachel’s eyes met Boone’s, and they laughed.
“You got that right, kid,” Boone said. Rachel untangled out of his lap with a broad smile. “Rachel, woman, we’re square?”
“We are,” she said.
“Then let’s eat.”
The food remained warm, and he thought he’d never eaten anything as delicious. He ate his fill and then became so tired that Rachel insisted on tucking him back into bed. Her hands were gentle as she smoothed the quilt over him, and her lips soft as she kissed him. “Sleep awhile, my love,” she said.
By the week of Thanksgiving, Boone found he could walk at a slow pace around the room, from bed or rocker to table or window. He had regained the strength to shave himself. He had yet to venture downstairs, although he now wore his brown trousers, worn and familiar with a shirt and often his leather vest. Although he put on socks, ones that Rachel had darned so that they no longer had holes, he hadn’t worn his boots but twice.
He’d paid Mary, who had visited him twice with her hand out, $50 dollars to provide not only for food but to keep the room until Christmas. Ezekiel brought in game and fish, hunting almost daily and keeping a trot line on the river. On a few occasions, Rachel, with a borrowed basket and Zeke at her side, ventured out to one of the local mercantile stores to buy some things. His brother also worked at the livery stable as an extra hand when one was needed.
Ezekiel came in now. He seldom entered a room but burst into it with enthusiasm.
“Boone, I think I found a place where we can stay.”
Interested, Boone turned around. “Tell me about it.”
“It’s three rooms above the saddler’s shop, about two blocks from here,” he told him. “Abernathy, who runs it, said he’d rent it for $15 a month.”
“Why is it empty?” Boone had already learned, even without leaving the room, that places to live were at a premium in Laredo. If there was a catch, he wanted to know it now, not later.
“He was planning to get married, sent for his bride from across the ocean somewhere, but she married a man she met on the ship and ain’t coming,” Zeke said. “It’s got furniture, too, a couple of beds, table and chairs, a stove and all in the kitchen.”
“Have you looked at it?”
The younger man shook his head. “Not yet. Where’s Rachel?”
“Downstairs, cooking, I hope,” Boone said. “She ought to be back soon. You need to take her over to see it. If it looks decent and she likes it, rent it – get the money from my stash.”
“I’ll go down and find her,” Zeke answered.
He returned with Rachel and the venison stew she’d made from a deer he’d killed a few days early. The hearty dish had chunks of meat, potatoes, carrots, and onions. Boone ate his first spoonful and grinned. He would love her if she couldn’t boil water, but he liked that she could cook. “Best slumgullion I’ve ever had,” he said. “I’ll have my strength back in no time if you keep feeding me this good.”
“I intend to do my best,” Rachel said.
“Did the kid tell you about the rooms for let?
“He did – I’ll go see them tomorrow. Do you want to try to come along?”
He did, but he didn’t dare. “I ain’t quite up to it yet, I don’t think. I haven’t even gone downstairs, let alone down the street. If you like them, take them, and then we’ll have a place to live once I can manage and we’re hitched.”
Her face brightened like dawn, beautiful and glorious. “I like the notion, Boone.”
They had yet to set a date but Boone hoped to have the wedding around Christmas, then settle in with his bride until spring. He wasn’t sure if the padre at San Agustin Church would marry them since he wasn’t Catholic, but he thought a justice of the peace could, as long as Rachel didn’t mind. He wanted vows and a ring on her finger before she changed her mind.
It was a wonder to him that she loved him, a woman like her. Boone had never expected to find anyone like Rachel, least of all to marry one and have her for the rest of his life. He’d thought she tended him out of compassion, out of mercy because she felt sorry for him, but from what she said, it started for her on that first day.
“Do you know you make me happy?” he asked, as they dined. “Happier than I think I’ve ever been in all my life.”
Her lips blossomed into a smile. “I’m glad, Boone. You give me joy.”
That pleased him so much that it was a surprise the buttons weren’t busting off his shirt he wore. “I don’t know how or why, but that’s good,” he told her, his voice gruff with emotion. “I hope you’re gonna like Kentucky.”
“It’s not so far from where I was raised,” she replied. “I’ll like it well enough. Will you farm? What do you raise?”
Ezekiel looked up from his stew. “Boone, you never told her?”
“I hadn’t,” he said. “It’s no secret, though. We grow tobacco and corn and garden things, but mainly, we raise Morgan horses. My horse, Sprat, is a Morgan from home, and so is Zeke’s mount.”
“I haven’t seen your horse yet,” she told him. “But I’ve heard of Morgans. Did you ride him through the war?”
Boone grinned. “I was a foot soldier. I got Sprat when I went home after the war ended. I’d raised him from a foal, and he remembered me. Zeke came to Texas riding Midnight.”
“They’re loyal and friendly,” Ezekiel added. “Strong, too.”
“Can you ride?” Boone asked Rachel. That was something he should have determined long ago. If she didn’t, he’d need to teach her or procure a wagon, which might be the best option.
She nodded. “I can. I’ve ridden some horses and more mules, but if it goes, I can sit it.”
“Sprat’s probably near forgot me by now,” Boone said with sadness.
“Aw, he ain’t,” his brother said. “But he misses you.”
“Soon as I can get there, I’ll go see him. Rachel needs to meet him, too.”
Any notion she might think that silly vanished when he saw her smile.
“I’ll save some sugar cubes for him or maybe a carrot,” she said.
Boone laughed. “You do that, and you’ll have a pal for life.”
Ezekiel rolled his eyes. “I’m going hunting for a turkey.”
He brought one back, a fine, large bird that would serve well as their dinner. On Thanksgiving Day Rachel parboiled, then roasted it to a brown perfection. On the side, she served sweet potatoes, light bread, carrots, and the ever-available frijoles, which she’d learned to prepare almost as well as Graciela. Deacon and Mac showed up in time to join the feast.
“It’s good to give thanks,” Deacon said. “But I hate that General Grant’s the one who declared the day.”
Boone, mellowed by the meal and the smoke he’d been craving, laughed. “The Yanks won, Deke, and that’s the truth. I’m not fond of Grant, for he’s a drunkard, but Lincoln, he wasn’t so bad. After all, he was a Southerner at heart, born in Kentucky just like me and Ezekiel. It’s a powerful shame he got shot.”
“You got shot yourself,” Mac stated.
“Yeah, well, thank the Lord it wasn’t a head shot, or I would be as dead as Honest Abe.”
“You came close enough as it was,” Rachel said. “I’m thankful today and always that you’re alive.”
In front of them all, he kissed her and then held her close, well aware of the treasure he had gained with her.