The Barefoot Bride (19 page)

Bassett was watching the crowd and realized their mood had turned ugly. “You remember that business we talked about, Pike? I think you'd best be on your way.”

Pike shoved his way through the crowd, which parted like the Red Sea as he approached them. There was no law in Fort Benton, and no one wanted to face him down. When he saw Patch, he made a detour that took him close to her.

Patch shrank away from the scarred man in horror.

“Keep your mouth shut, kid,” Pike warned in a low voice, “or next time, I'll kill him.”

Patch gasped, but before she could say anything, Pike Hardesty was gone.

Molly ripped some of her petticoat into strips and used it to try to stop the bleeding. Once her initial shock was over, she was able to see that the wound was not as serious as she had thought. She was greatly encouraged when Seth groaned and raised a hand to his head.

“Don't move,” Molly said in a soothing voice. She looked around for a familiar face and spotted Red Dupree. “Could you help me move Seth to Schmidt's Hotel? We have a room there.”

“Sure, Mrs. Kendrick,” Red said. “Some of you fellas come over here and lend a hand. Take Doc Kendrick over to Uncle Jake's place.”

Molly wrung her hands helplessly as she followed behind the men who jostled Seth toward the hotel. Patch had hold of her father's hand and walked beside him.

“Ain't but a crease,” Red reassured Molly. “He'll be right as rain in no time.”

“Why did it happen at all?” Molly demanded. “Why doesn't somebody arrest that
man? How can he get away with shooting an unarmed man like that?”

“Ain't nobody around here as fast with a gun as Pike, ma'am. And he's mean enough to eat raw liver. Closest army is at Fort Shaw, and they're tied up with the Sioux. Got no choice except to put up with him, if you see what I mean.”

Red made sure Seth was settled on the four-poster bed before he shooed everybody out of the room and left Molly, Patch, and Whit in peace.

Molly hurried to Seth's side. He started to say something to her, then groaned and lost consciousness again. She took the time to bathe away all the blood on his face. When she was finished, she noted his breathing was shallow but his pulse was steady.

She turned her attention to the two children who were sitting on ladderback chairs that had been brought in and placed in the far corner of the room.

Molly walked up to Patch and waited until the girl looked up at her. “You nearly got your father killed,” she accused.

“I know,” Patch replied in a frightened voice. “I didn't mean for anything like that to happen.”

“It's as much my fault as hers,” Whit said.

“Is that so?” Molly asked.

Whit nodded.

“What were the two of you doing in town? How did you get here?”

“It's a long story,” Patch said with a sigh. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Every word.”

Patch and Whit exchanged worried glances.

“You can start whenever you're ready,” Molly said, eyeing first Whit and then Patch. “I'm listening.”

When Seth awoke, he thought he was alone. A moment later, a shadowy form materialized beside him on the bed.

“Is that you, Molly?”

“It's Dora Deveraux.”

Seth put a tentative hand to his head and winced as he tried to sit up.

Dora pushed him back down and said, “Stay flat. Believe me, you'll feel better. How'd you let Pike get the drop on you like that?”

“My mistake,” Seth said dryly. “I should have asked for Marquess of Queensbury rules.”

Dora grinned. “I knew somebody would go a step too far with you someday. What did Pike say to make you mad?”

“He struck Patch.”

Dora's face lost its humor. “That bastard. You should have killed him.”

“Someday I will.”

“Look, we don't have much time before your wife comes back.”

“Where is she?” Seth asked.

“She took your kids downstairs to the dining room to get something to eat. I saw them come in and snuck up here. I had to tell you, it looks like Bassett is already back in business selling whiskey to the Indians. Same place as before, if you can believe it.”

“That man can't take a hint,” Seth said.

“Also, three gold miners are coming in on the stage from Virginia City at the end of the week. Think the Masked Marauder will be able to give them an escort?”

“It's a possibility,” Seth said. “Thanks for the information, Dora.”

“Anytime, Seth. So how do you like that new wife of yours?”

“I like her fine.”

“Too bad. I miss you.” Dora brushed Seth's hair back from his forehead. She trailed her fingers down the side of his face and passed her thumb across his lips, which parted at her touch. She leaned over to kiss his mouth, but he turned aside at the last second so her lips met his cheek instead.

When the door clicked shut, Dora slowly straightened and looked over her shoulder.
Molly was standing there white-faced, holding a tray in her hands.

“Who are you?” Molly asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm Dora Deveraux, Mrs. Kendrick. I was just visiting Seth,” Dora said, cool as ice. “We're old friends.”

Old friends,
indeed! More like
kissing cousins!
It was painfully apparent the two of them were very well acquainted.

Molly guessed from Dora's clothing what kind of woman she was. Her full skirt only came to her knees, and the form-fitting bodice left most of her bosom and shoulders bare. Her auburn hair was pinned up in curls, and she wore a garish green feather that matched the color of her spangly dress. The woman sat on the bed snuggled up next to Seth and had a possessive hand on the pillow beside his head. She didn't seem in any hurry to leave. Molly decided to give her a nudge.

“Seth needs his rest,” she said, crossing to the table beside the bed to set down the tray.

“Well, he certainly knows how to make the best use of a bed,” Dora said, shooting a sly grin in Seth's direction.

Seth flushed. “Dora was just leaving,” he said firmly.

Molly wanted to know why the woman had come in the first place. But it was apparent that she wasn't going to get any answers from Dora Deveraux. The woman made a point of touching Seth as she resettled the blankets around him. Then she crossed the room past Molly and stopped at the door to look back toward the bed.

“Come see me when the newness wears off,” she said to Seth. She didn't bother to close the door when she left the room.

Molly wanted very much to slam it after her. She resisted the urge and walked over and closed it very carefully and quietly.

Tension sang in the room. Seth pursed his lips and shook his head. “Dora and I aren't … that is, we haven't—”

Molly turned and leaned back against the door. “But you did,” she said with certainty.

Seth shrugged. “I'm a man, Molly, not a monk.”

“She still wants you.”

“I can't control what she wants.”

Molly didn't realize what she was going to say until the words were out of her mouth. “I won't share you, Seth. I know what it's like to have a husband with a mistress. I won't suffer the same mistake twice. Make a choice, and make it now.”

“You don't understand—”

“There's nothing to understand. Do you want her, or do you want me?”

Seth grinned. “I like you when your dander's up, Molly. It makes your eyes sparkle.”

“I'm serious, Seth.”

He sobered. “I choose you, Molly. Today, tomorrow, always.”

For a moment it was hard to believe she had won. The extent of her relief was disturbing, because it meant she cared more than she ought. After all, they had both agreed they could never love each other. They had both agreed this was a marriage of convenience. It shouldn't matter whether he had a mistress. It shouldn't matter whether he was committed to her and her alone.

But it had. It had mattered tremendously whether he chose her or Dora. So maybe her feelings for Seth Kendrick weren't as nonexistent as she had thought.

Molly was very much aware of Seth's eyes on her as she rearranged the pillows behind him to make a backrest. She helped him to sit up, noticing the grimace of pain when he was finally upright. “How does your head feel?”

“Like someone's in there knocking around with a hammer.”

“Be thankful for the pain,” Molly said with
a smile. “It means you're alive.” She sat down beside him where Dora had been, and tucked a napkin under his chin. “You could have been killed, Seth.”

“Thanks to you, I wasn't.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “You saved my life, Molly.”

Molly looked down at his bruised and torn knuckles and then back at his untouched face. “Why did you let the whole town—and me—think you were afraid of Pike Hardesty, when you could have whipped him anytime?”

He rubbed Molly's palm with his thumb, not consciously seducing but obtaining that result all the same.

“I have my reasons, Molly. That's all I can tell you.”

Molly tried not to feel hurt by his secrecy. After all, they had been husband and wife for less than two weeks. She knew he was telling her to drop the subject, but she persisted. “Why don't you carry a gun, Seth?”

His grip tightened on her hand. “I can't give you an answer to that question. Yet.”

He was shutting her out. The walls were there, reminding her that however her feelings for Seth might be changing, he was holding
to his side of the bargain. Molly didn't know what to say, so she said nothing.

She pulled her hand from his and busied herself setting up the tray on his lap. She expected Seth to make a fuss if she tried to feed him, but for whatever reason, he didn't. He opened his mouth and swallowed a spoonful of the broth she offered him.

“What did you do with Patch and Whit?” he asked.

“I didn't drop them down the bottom of a well, if that's what you're wondering,” Molly said with a wry smile. “Although I very much wanted to. Those two rapscallions were in the back of the wagon the whole way into town!”

“I can understand why Patch would hitch a ride, but why did Whit come along?”

Molly paused with the spoon in midair, took a deep breath, and said, “He was running away.”

“Patch was helping him?”

Molly nodded.

Seth forked a hand through his hair and winced when he got too close to his wound. “I suppose I should have seen it coming. Whit and I haven't been getting along very well.”

“It isn't your fault,” Molly said. “Whit never wanted to come here in the first place.
If anybody's to blame, it's me, for bringing him here against his will.”

They were both silent, thinking about what they had hoped to achieve through this marriage, and how far short of their expectations they had fallen.

“Where do we go from here?” Seth asked.

Molly knew he wasn't only talking about Whit and Patch but about their own relationship as well. She took a deep breath and said, “Maybe we made a mistake getting married.”

“No!” Seth replied sharply. “I admit I hadn't bargained on so much resistance from Patch and Whit. But I'm willing to try to wear them down if you are. I'm betting we can outlast them and turn the five of us into a family.”

“I don't think you realize what a Herculean task that will be.”

“Wouldn't the results be worth the effort?”

Molly imagined them all sitting down to a supper table together, talking about what each had accomplished during the day, sharing their joys and their sorrows. It was a goal worth striving for. But she had her doubts about whether they would ever succeed. “Just how do you suggest we accomplish this miracle?”

Seth grinned. “First of all, we don't let
Patch and Whit provoke us into arguing with each other over them.”

“Were we doing that?”

Seth just stared, and Molly conceded, “All right. What else?”

“We stop jumping apart and feeling guilty when they see us together. In fact, I'll even go a step further and suggest we act like genuine, couple-in-love married people whenever they're around.”

Molly stiffened. “How will that help?”

Seth chose his words with care. “If they see that you and I are committed to each other, that there is no hope that their machinations can succeed, they'll stop trying to push us apart. At least, I hope they will.”

The loud knock at the door brought Molly to her feet. “That'll be Patch and Whit,” she said. “I left them having dessert in the dining room.” She took the tray from Seth's lap and set it on the table beside the bed.

He caught her wrist and said, “What do you say, Molly? Do you want to give it a try?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do.”

“Then sit here beside me.”

Slowly, Molly sat back down beside him. She allowed Seth to draw her palm up to his mouth, where he kissed it.

“All right,” he said. “Are you ready?”

Molly nodded.

He raised his voice and called, “Come in. The door's open.”

Patch and Whit tumbled excitedly into the room and drew to a quick halt when they saw the intimate picture their parents presented together on the bed.

Patch frowned.

Whit grimaced.

Seth and Molly exchanged amused glances.

“Come on over here where I can see you both,” Seth said.