The Barefoot Bride (5 page)

Molly laid a hand across her brow to shield her eyes so she could better see the landing at Fort Benton. The town was easily visible from the upper deck of the steamboat
Viola Belle.

It was situated on a flat piece of land right at the edge of the river. There were no docks, just a muddy bank leading down to the water, stacked high in places with machinery
and other freight. A row of one- and two-story wooden buildings that appeared to be warehouses fronted the levee. Signs labeled some of the other buildings—Wells Fargo, Schmidt's Hotel, Carroll & Steell, North Western Fur, I. G. Baker & Co., and the Medicine Bow Saloon. At one end of town stood the crumbled adobe brick buildings that had been the original Fort Benton. Along the horizon, a butte rose about a hundred and fifty feet above the town and ran for several miles into the distance.

There were no bricked roads in the town, nor any sidewalks, nor even any grass that she could see. Just dirt. There was not a single tree, not one. The word that came to mind was
desolate.
But Molly shut out the stark picture before her. She denied the evidence of all those lonely miles she had traveled to arrive at this barren place. In her heart, she felt hope; in her mind, she saw a shiny new beginning.

“We're here, Mother! I can see the faces of the people waiting on the levee,” Whit said.

Molly smiled at the excitement in her son's voice. It was the first emotion besides resentment or anger that she had heard him express during the entire trip from Massachusetts to Montana. She felt a tug on her skirt
and reached down to lift her daughter into her arms. “We're here, Nessie,” she said, playfully tugging one of the little girl's braids. “We've arrived at our new home. We'll start a new life here and put the past behind us.”

The solemn-faced child said nothing. Ever since the night she had fallen asleep sobbing in Molly's arms, Nessie had been unnaturally silent. Molly had to believe that time and patience and love would restore the light to her daughter's once-laughing brown eyes.

“Be careful, Whit,” Molly said. “Stand back from the rail. There's bound to be some jouncing when we tie up at the levee.”

“Not nearly so much as on a real ship,” her son responded with the disdain of a true sailor's son for a boat run by steam. Then, wistfully: “I should be cabin boy on a whaling vessel right now, Mother, if only …” His eyes narrowed as he turned back to gaze at the levee. “Do you think
he
is down there somewhere, waiting for us?”

Molly did not mistake the resentment in Whit's voice now, or the nervous pounding of her heart. Whit had made it clear he had no intention of liking, or even tolerating, the man she had come all this way to marry.

When the steamboat whistle blew their arrival, Whit headed on the run for the stairs.
“Wait for me on the main deck, Whit,” Molly called after him. “Nessie and I will come down and join you as quickly as we can.”

It wasn't that she thought Whit would purposely provoke a scene if he greeted Doctor Kendrick on his own. But it couldn't hurt if she was there by her son's side the first time the two males stood face to face.

Molly pulled Nessie close as the
Viola Belle
bumped against the levee at Fort Benton. Within moments she would be meeting the man with whom she had determined to spend the rest of her life. What would the kindly country doctor do when he realized she had not been entirely honest with him?

If he gave her a chance, she would explain everything. Molly thought of what her children had endured over the past year and vowed she would
make
him listen. Besides, the last of her savings had been spent getting here. She had no money to make the return trip.

There was little time to ponder her transgressions as the gangplank was lowered and people and cargo began moving from the main deck of the steamboat onto dry land.

Molly took her daughter's hand and led her downstairs to the main deck to join Whit.

“Can we go ashore now?” Whit asked.

“I wrote Doctor Kendrick that we would wait for him here.”

Whit glowered and turned away to stare at the bustle of activity along the levee.

Molly set Nessie down, and the little girl grabbed hold of the narrow railing beside Whit and held on. “Be careful!” Molly cautioned. “Hang on tight so you don't fall in.”

“I don't know why we had to come here,” Whit complained. “It's dirty. And ugly. And there aren't even any trees. I hate it! And I hate him!”

“That will be enough of that, young man,” Molly snapped. “Now stand there and be quiet. When Doctor Kendrick comes, I expect you to greet him politely. Do you understand me?”

Whit's sullen voice was barely respectful when he answered, “Yes, Mother.”

Molly fought the nerves that had her hands trembling. Whit had clearly made up his mind that he was going to hate Seth Kendrick. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe this wasn't the best choice after all. But it was too late now. In a matter of moments Doctor Seth Kendrick would be here to claim his mail-order bride—and her two children— from the main deck of the
Viola Belle.

“Stay close, Patch,” Seth admonished his daughter as they stepped onto the deck of the
Viola Belle.
“I want to introduce you to Mrs. Gallagher when I find her.”

“I don't want to meet her, Pa.”

Seth ushered Patch into a quiet corner where they could stand without being buffeted by the crowd. He put a forefinger under his daughter's chin and raised her eyes to meet his. “I want you to be on your best behavior today. We don't want to scare Mrs. Gallagher off before she even gets her feet on solid ground,” he said with a smile. ‘I'm expecting you to make her feel welcome.”

Patch's eyes flared with rebellion before her lids lowered, hiding her enmity for the dreaded Mrs. Gallagher.

But Seth didn't see. He was already searching the foredeck of the
Viola Belle
for the woman who had agreed to become his wife.

Snatches of Molly Gallagher's last letter
came back to him as he examined each of the women standing there. She had given him just enough information to identify her, without actually saying what color dress she would be wearing when she arrived.

I have long black hair. James said it was my crowning glory. However, I usually cover it with a hat to keep the sun off my nose. Otherwise I get freckles.

He eliminated every female who wasn't wearing a hat. That took care of a goodly number. Unfortunately, it was difficult to tell the hair color of those whose heads were covered. He wished he knew whether she wore her hair up or down.

I've become a mite too thin, but somehow food lost its taste after James died.

That left him only four women to choose from.

I hope you're not too tall, because I'm barely shoulder high to a grasshopper. Well, perhaps that is a slight exaggeration. But not much! James called me his “little darling.”

He narrowed it down to two women.

Oh, yes. I have a small mole near my mouth. James said it was becoming. I hope you'll think so too.

Neither woman was looking at him at the moment. He marched up to the closest one
and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned, and he exhaled the expectant breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It wasn't her.

As he approached the other woman, she turned toward him. Seth stopped in his tracks, stunned by her elegant beauty. Why hadn't she warned him? Her face was framed by a black straw bonnet trimmed with a fringe of black crystal beads that caught and reflected the sunlight.

He had an impression of anxious doe-brown eyes and alabaster skin—freckled across the nose—that flushed when she met his gaze. Even white teeth worried her full lower lip, but she held her chin in a defiant tilt. The mole was there near her mouth, just as she had described it. But it was more than merely becoming. It tempted. It tantalized. It invited.

His body tautened, hardening with desire that he had no wish to feel. This wasn't what he had wanted from a mail-order bride. Not a woman who made him long to possess her. Not a woman to make feelings he had thought long dead spring to demanding life. Especially since they had both agreed this was to be very much a marriage of convenience.

Seth took two steps toward her. As he reached out, she laid a delicate hand in his.

“Mrs. Gallagher?” he managed in a raw voice. When she nodded, he felt his gut tighten.

“Yes. Doctor Kendrick?”

“Yes.”

He wasn't at all what Molly had been expecting. A doctor shouldn't have such disturbing gray eyes or such shaggy black hair. A doctor shouldn't be so fierce-looking or have such a powerful frame. A doctor shouldn't remind her of the savage on horseback she had seen along the river, or cause her whole body to shiver at the touch of his surprisingly callused hand.

Molly thought the crow's-feet at the edges of his eyes and the deep creases that bracketed his mouth gave his face character. She approved of his straight nose, his cleft chin, and his wide, sharp cheekbones. He was wearing a kind of hat she hadn't seen much in the east. It mostly covered his wavy black hair, except where it curled down over his collar in back. But it was his eyes—enigmatic, smoky-gray eyes—that drew her to him and held her in thrall.

One second they were standing on the main deck of the
Viola Belle
staring into each
other's eyes. The next, Molly's hand was torn from Seth's as someone stumbled hard against her, forcing her over the short rail into the icy waters of the Missouri. She caught a fleeting glimpse of an impish face peering down at her before the breath was knocked out of her and her mouth was filled with muddy water.

Seth had a split second to register that
Patch
had knocked Molly Gallagher overboard before he too was shoved from behind and felt himself falling into space. He gave fleeting thought to wringing his daughter's neck before he hit the water with a resounding splash. He came up sputtering and quickly blinked his eyes, trying to clear them enough to spy the culprit who had shoved him over the rail.

Before he could get a good look, Molly broke the surface choking and cried, “Help! I can't swim!” and promptly sank again.

Molly's lungs felt as if they might burst, but she daren't take a breath. Was this what James had felt? This awful burning pain in the chest? The frigid cold of the water? Had he thought of her and Whit and Nessie in his last moments, as she was doing now? Molly struggled against her fate, her splayed fingers moving desperately through the murky water
for the light at the surface. But the immense weight of her many layers of fashionable clothing forced her inexorably down. She felt dizzy. She couldn't last much longer. Soon she would have to breathe. Then her lungs would fill with water, and she would drown.

She couldn't give up. Her children needed her. She must live! She fought against the pull on her clothing, refusing to give up her life to the river.

Something tugged on her skirt and just as quickly let go. Someone had jumped in after her!
Save me! Don't leave me here.
She reached out blindly to grab hold of her rescuer's neck and promptly had her hands torn away. Which made her even more desperate.

A muscular arm snaked around her from behind, grasping her firmly across her breasts. She was so shocked at the intimacy of such a hold that she froze for an instant— which was time enough for her to realize that they had begun moving upward. She forced herself to remain calm, which was the only way she could aid her own rescue.

Molly gasped as she broke the surface of the water and immediately began coughing.

“You're safe now, Mrs. Gallagher,” Seth said in her ear. “Just relax, and I'll swim you to shore.”

By now, those on board the
Viola Belle
had been alerted to the fact that two passengers had fallen overboard. There were hands ready to take Molly from Seth as he lifted her up onto the levee, and to drag him out of the water as well.

Seth spied Ethan in the crowd that had gathered and said, “Take care of her while I get my medical bag from the buggy.”

Molly lay on the ground with her eyes closed, grateful to be alive. The sun felt so warm, and she was so tired. She had no desire to move from this spot anytime soon.

“Step aside. Get out of the way. Give her some room to breathe,” Ethan said.

When Molly opened her eyes, she saw a handsome man with sandy brown hair and bright green eyes kneeling beside her. He untied the soggy ribbons from under her chin and removed what was left of her best Sunday bonnet.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Molly's mouth formed the words, “I'm fine,” but nothing came out. She closed her eyes again. She felt the heat of a second body beside her just before she heard Seth's deep, rumbling voice.

“How is she, Ethan?”

“I can't tell, Seth. You better check her over.”

Molly felt the buttons of her dress being undone and managed to drag a hand up to try and stop whoever it was.

“It's all right, Mrs. Gallagher,” Seth said, moving her hand back down to her side. “It's me. Seth Kendrick. I'm a doctor, remember?”