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Mac watched Rose crush the envelope in her gloved fist. Who had sent the letter, and what did they want? Whatever it was, he needed to find out quickly. The other teamsters were planning to pull out in the morning for Denver, and he needed a new load if he was going to continue to search for his brother-in-law.
“Thorn, I need a ticket for tomorrow’s stagecoach to Denver.” Rose tapped the crumbled envelope against her open palm.
“You can’t get one. The—”
“Don’t start telling me what I can do.” She dropped her voice. “Remember, this is a marriage in name only.”
He tightened his fists and rested them on his hips. Give me patience. “What I was going to say was you can’t get one for tomorrow because the coach’s been damaged. Some drunken traveling salesman left a lit cigar on the floor when he got out. It’ll be two or three days before it’s ready to use.”
Rose’s cheeks took on the color of a pink rose. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought—I mean I didn’t –I—” She sighed. “I need to see my lawyer as soon as possible.”
Mac’s chest tightened. “You don’t mean to try and undo the marriage right away. That doesn’t make sense.”
She swiped her hand in the air in front of her. “This has nothing to do with that. My lawyer needs to see me.” A breeze swept past them and made the loose hair around her face dance a little. She held up the letter. “It has to be something important for him to send a letter like this.”
Even as the words formed in his head, Mac knew it wasn’t a good idea, but it was all he could come up with as the lines of pain and fear gathered on her face. “Early tomorrow morning, several of us teamsters are heading to Denver for supplies. I have a standing order from the mercantile to haul freight for them. I can take you, if you want to come with me. But let me warn you, it’ll be a hard trip.” He was a fool to invite her. “Still, it’ll get you to Denver quicker than waiting for the stagecoach to get fixed.”
Emotions raced across her face almost too fast for Mac to keep up with them—denial, fear, hope, and finally, acceptance. “That sounds good. Thank you. I’ll need to return home and get ready.”
Just then, Helen and Carl stepped out of the mercantile. Mac helped them into the buggy.
As they left, Mac wanted to find a tree and pound his head against it until he beat some good sense into it. How was he going to get through this trip with her by his side? Why had he thought giving her his name would protect her? Waller was still spreading rumors about her, and Snodgrass, too, if his guess was right.
The pouch with Lizzie’s note rubbed against his chest. He shook his head. The past pulled him back. The future jerked him forward. And his little girls needed their da right now. But he needed to protect Sarah Rose and Emma.
His feet pounded along the dusty road as he left to prepare his wagon and check on his mules for the trip. This was going to be one long trip with Sarah Rose sitting by his side for four days.
***
Sarah sat at the kitchen table the next morning, her body already tired and the day hardly begun. All night long she had tossed in bed, tangling herself in the sheets. And that was after she’d spent the evening arguing with her brother about the trip. At last, everything was set. During the day, Sally would take care of Emma while Helen took care of the house and kept an eye on Drew. At night, when Sally went to her own home, Emma would stay with Helen in her room near the kitchen.
Sarah didn’t plan to be gone but a few days, but oh, how she was going to miss her little girl. Her arms already felt strange not to be holding her child. She couldn’t help but smile as she thought of Emma. She was the only good thing that came out of her first marriage, disastrous as it was. For she knew with all certainty that if Alfred had lived, he would never have let her adopt the baby.
“More?” Helen held out the coffeepot.
Sarah shook her head. “I’d better not. I’ve had two cups already.”
Helen nodded. “I’m glad you took my advice and aren’t wearing that corset and crinoline. You’ll be so much more comfortable, even if you are sitting on a piece of wood.”
“I know you’re right, but I feel so—so undressed.” Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.
“Don’t worry about that. Your modesty’s fully intact.” Helen continued to fill the large basket at the far end of the table. “I’ve packed biscuits and ham for later this morning. There’s sandwiches, pickles, and an apple pie for lunch. Mac said you’d be staying at a place along the way that serves meals, so I didn’t make anything for supper or breakfast tomorrow. I did pack three pans of cinnamon rolls and some cookies along with some cheese and bread for the second day, to get you through until you hit Denver.”
“Three pans of rolls?” Sarah could feel her waist growing just thinking of all that food.
Helen giggled. “You don’t know the reputation of my cinnamon rolls. The other teamsters always ask for a couple of pans before they leave.”
Memories of when she first came to Central City flooded Sarah’s mind—something about Helen making cinnamon rolls for her aunt at the restaurant and her wanting to have a bakery. In the weeks that had passed, Sarah had forgotten her promise to help her friend learn what she needed to set up her own business. “I’m sorry I haven’t helped you like I said I would—with your business—I mean.”
Helen waved her hand in front of her. “But you have. You’ve taught me how to keep the housekeeping books, and from that I’ve learned how to keep records for my baking business.”
The woman blushed. “Sometimes when I’ve had a problem or question, Drew—I mean Mr. Hollingsworth—helped me out.”
Helen brought a small plate with a cinnamon roll on it and set it in front of Sarah. “And because I don’t have to work from early morning to late at night like I did for my aunt, I’ve had more time to bake.” She glowed with pride. “I already have a long list of miners that I bake for each week, and I’ve been saving for the time I can have a place of my own and bake all day.”
Before Sarah could respond, boot thumping and childish giggles filled the back stairs. Moments later, Thorn entered the room, Emma in his arms.
With all the looks of a proud father, he presented the child to them. “Emma has her first tooth. And the second isn’t far behind.”
Happy as she was that her daughter was no longer in pain from the tooth trying to emerge, Sarah couldn’t understand why a man without a family would know so much about babies and take such pride in the little things they did. Where had this man come from, and what was his past like? She tapped her finger against her chin. Maybe this trip would be a good time to start learning some of those things. After all, she was legally tied to him, and these were things that might affect her daughter.
***
As the hot sun climbed higher in the sky, Mac’s neck and back ached, but not from the pull of the mules’ reins against his arms. He was used to that. No, it was trying to balance what he was saying to Rose against what he wasn’t saying. Guilt and uncertainty ate at his insides.
He hadn’t thought through this marriage. True, his name had given her what she needed to save her and her brother’s reputations and insure there was no problem with Emma. Or he had thought so until those miners the day before.
But what about the future? What about Emma? That baby was weaving her way into his heart, just like his girls had. And what about his girls? He couldn’t ask his sister and grandparents to care for them forever.
After he got his answers, he’d go home. But what about Rose and Emma? Would they come with him? Could they be a family? Did he want them to be part of his family? Stupid question. They were part of his family. When a MacPherson makes a vow, he keeps it. So unless, Rose annulled the marriage, it was forever. Where would that lead?
***
Sarah gripped the wooden seat on the wagon as they bumped along the dusty trail. The other freighters allowed them to go first so they weren’t getting as dirty as the ones behind. She was thankful for that small favor. Throughout the morning, she had tried to be friendly with Thorn, who was truly living up to his name—sharp and prickly. Every time she tried to pull him into conversation, he gave short, pointed answers.
Well, she would try one more time. “You have never said, but where does your family live?”
“I thought you didn’t want to know anything about my past.” Thorn kept his eyes forward.
A wave of guilt ran through her as she remembered Thorn offering to tell her about his past the day before they married. Heat, which wasn’t from the sun shining down on them, flooded her face. “I’m sorry. Can we start over?”
Thorn stared at her for a moment or two, then gave a sharp nod. “They’ve moved around a bit—New York, Pennsylvania, eastern Kansas Territory, then south of here before the gold rush began. It was much calmer in those days. Not anywhere near as many people. You could ride your horse for days at a time and not see another white man.”
His family lived nearby? “Your family, where do they live exactly?”
“We’re spread across the country from New York to, well since I’m here, I guess to here. Speaking of family, your brother did mighty fine dealing with the miners when he was with me.”
Sarah was glad to hear that about Drew, but she wanted to know more about Thorn. “I’m happy to hear that, but what about your family, your parents, brothers, sisters?”
“Parents died from fever before we moved west.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I know what it feels like to lose your parents. I wish they could have known Emma. They would have loved her so much.”
Thorn nodded. “Yeah, mine never got to see my gi—” Some kind of furry animal raced across the road and startled the mules. He gripped the reins tighter and called out to the mules. They settled. He snapped the reins again, they continued on as if nothing happened.
Sarah stared at Thorn. His face had tightened and his jaw clenched. She didn’t think it was from something running across the road. It was what he was saying. Did he have a family, another family? “Were you married before?”
His hands tightened on the reins, but he gave a brief nod.
“What happened to her?”
Thorn’s lips formed a thin, straight line, at least the part she could see, since he kept his eyes on the backs of the mules. After several seconds, his lips moved, but the answer was no more than a whisper in the air. “She’s gone.”
Silence mixed with the dust the mules’ hooves kicked into the air.
The question pounded in Sarah’s head and slipped between her lips. “Do you have any children?”
Thorn gave a sharp nod. “Three girls.”
“Where are they?”
“With their great-grandparents.”
Before she could ask another question, something pushed against her arm. She shifted to let the dog stick his head between them. Thorn took a deep breath.
“Feeling a bit lonely back there, Tair boy?” Thorn, his face relaxing a bit, shifted the reins and held them all in one hand. With his now free hand, he ruffled the fur on the dog’s neck.
Sarah couldn’t hold back a giggle when the dog let out a long sigh.
Thorn chuckled. “Tair’s used to sitting up here with me. I think he’s feeling a little out of place.”
“Why do you call him that?”
“Actually, his name’s Bhatair, Warrior, which is what I thought of the way he fought until he ran out of strength when those boys were beating him. A Scottish warrior, still valiant in defeat.” Thorn gave the dog a last pat, then shifted the reins and held them in both hands again.
“I knew that was a bit of a brogue I heard when you get worked up about something.” Sarah patted the dog’s head.
He gave her a look that seemed to ask, When was he ever worked up?
Memories of Alfred getting upset with her popped into her thoughts. Time to back away and distract Mac. It had worked sometimes with Alfred.
“Oh, never mind. I love to hear how families got their start in America. Tell me about yours.”
He seemed to relax a bit against the back of the wagon seat like someone settling down for a cozy after-dinner chat. “Angus MacPherson was the fifth son of a mighty Scottish laird, and as such never had hopes of ruling the clan, especially since his older brothers all had sons of their own. He had another problem. Young Angus was in love with a pretty lass by the name of Mary Campbell, the daughter of a wealthy and powerful man who had already arranged a marriage for the lass, as he had for her older sister.”
“Did Mary love the other man?” Sarah’s stomach tightened.
“Nay, he was older, and the agreement had been made when she was just a wee thing.”
Sarah drew her hand back from the dog’s head and clenched her fists in her lap. She knew where this story was going, what would happen to the poor, helpless girl, what she would have faced in a loveless marriage. “Was she happy with him—the older man, I mean?”
“They would have been, if they married. He was a kindly man, well-respected and greatly loved by the people in the town.” Thorn smiled as he glanced at her. “The thing about the whole matter was that Mary Campbell loved Angus. Even as a young girl, she was headstrong and determined to have her way.”
A seed of hope, maybe happiness, sprouted in Sarah. Her fists unclenched. Her stomach eased. “What happened?”
“Angus decided that his future lay far from Scotland, so the laird gave his son his inheritance in gold and the young man set out for the coast to catch a ship to America, where he planned to make his fortune. When Mary heard about that, she took her jewels, her father’s best steed, and her mother’s wedding veil, then set out after him, dressed as a boy.” His grin grew wider. “When she presented herself to his cabin, he did what any good MacPherson would do. He married the girl with the ship’s captain’s approval and a traveling minister’s blessing.”
The seed had sprouted leaves, and joy of a once-trapped girl finding happiness danced along her veins. “Were they happy together?”
“Aye, they were, with twelve children, eighty-nine grandchildren, and who knows after that.”
Sarah couldn’t help herself. She turned half-way around and stared at Thorn. “You mean to tell me you have twelve aunts and uncles and eighty-eight cousins?”
He laughed. “No, you have to take my da into account. I’ve got twenty-two aunts and uncles when you consider the ones that married in, and I’ve got seven brothers and sisters, so there’s only eighty-one cousins.”
“Where are they all? I haven’t heard of any other MacPhersons around here.”
Thorn chuckled. “Well, by the fact that some of my grandparents’ children were girls—three to be exact—not all of the cousins are MacPhersons by name. Add to that, with the moving the clan’s done over the years, along with some of the aunts and uncles staying when others left, it’s not surprising you haven’t met any of the cousins. Especially since none of them live in Central City. Well, at least not until recently.”
She faced forward again, the number of his family beyond imagination. “My parents were only children, as were my grandparents. I’ve never had aunts and uncles. Now there’s only Drew, Emma, and me.”
“Aye, but maybe you will start your own dynasty out here in the west.”
“Maybe Drew will, but not me. After we have this marriage annulled, I’ll never marry again.” Sarah swallowed down a sour feeling. She wasn’t sure if the feeling was caused by the idea of an annulment or the knowledge that her body had been so damaged she could never have another child.
***
Mac felt the punch right to his gut. Annulled. Well, he’d given her that choice when he signed those papers before the wedding. Still. Annulment. The word left a bitter taste in his mouth. When he had spoken the vows, he had meant them. And yet they had agreed to a marriage in name only.
He shook his head. Even though he might have been foolish to rush her into marriage without thinking about the future, he could not lie. He did want her. When he let himself, he could still feel the sweetness of her lips on his at the wedding. But her words after were the needle that kept pricking his heart. Memory of her astonishment that a kiss could be neither unkind nor hurtful nearly undid him. He repeated the vow to himself that he made following that kiss. He would never hurt her or stand by and let any other man hurt her.
Mac felt her snatching little glances at him. Was she trying to see how her words had affected him, if he agreed or not? For right now, the best thing he could do was say nothing.
Thankfully, a few minutes later, he got to the place they always stopped for the midday meal. Beside a small stream, he pulled the mules to a halt just as the sun had started its downhill journey. Time to rest the animals and eat some of what Helen packed for them. All morning long, he’d smelled the sweet rose scent the woman beside him wore, even over the smell of the ham and bacon in the basket.
Tair leaped from the wagon and headed to the water. Mac helped Rose down, then pointed to the slight shade cast by the side of the wagon. “If you set out the meal there, we’ll have a little shade from the sun.”
He noticed her nose had sunburned, even with the sunbonnet Helen had lent her. While she spread out a quilt, he joined the other teamsters as they released the mules from the wagons and led them to the stream.
As the other men sat on the edge of the quilt, they glanced over at him. He knew what they were asking, but he couldn’t do it. More often than not, one of the teamsters would ask the blessing on the meal. But on this trip none of them volunteered, and there was no way he could pray, not now. Not until he found out what happened that day at the ranch. Not while his heart was still full of anger, questions, and hatred both for himself and whoever did those horrible things to Lizzie.
He grabbed a sandwich. “Just eat.”
The men shrugged and grabbed their food. Without saying anything, Rose joined them.
He had never thought about it before, but Helen always said grace before meals back in Central City. Neither Drew nor Rose took that lead. Even though he wasn’t ready to share his past with Rose, he did wonder about hers. He knew about her grandfather, but what about before? Drew had said they’d come to live with their grandfather when she was sixteen, but had they grown up in Boston? She seemed like such a city kind of woman.
When they’d polished off the meal, Rose pulled out the pans of cinnamon rolls and handed them to the men. Their faces lit up like full moons at midnight.
“Thank ye, ma’am. Dearly love Miss Helen’s cin’mon rolls.”
“Best I ever had. Cain’t wait ’til she opens up a bakery of her own.”
“Forget the stew and steaks. Just give me them rolls for the rest of my life, and I’ll die a happy man.”
“Think she’s looking to marry up any time soon?”
“Might be, she shore does take a shine to that fancy young man she works for.”
Rose giggled at first, but the last remark made her smile. Maybe there was hope if she could see marriage in a good way through Drew and Helen. Maybe there was hope for the future. Maybe.