The Brides of Chance Collection (20 page)

“It isn’t.”

“Oh. You sure are takin’ your time at all of this courtin’ business. I thought for sure you were trying to get Miriam to go for a walk so’s you could propose.”

“I asked; she refused.” The admission stung his pride, but the hurt went far deeper than that. Gideon couldn’t figure out why.

“What did you do wrong?”

What did I do wrong?
The question kept running through Gideon’s mind. A proposal in front of a chicken coop wasn’t exactly romantic enough to make a girl swoon with delight, but Miriam wasn’t like other gals. Besides, he’d tried to get her to take a walk. She just didn’t cooperate.

“Did you think to show her Ma’s ring so she knew you weren’t funnin’ her?”

“I’m not bribing a woman to be my bride!”

Paul heaved a sigh. “I didn’t say you were. I reckoned since she turned you down, maybe she took it for a joke—like she did the day we built the cabins. She didn’t realize Marv was making a serious offer. Could be the gal just didn’t understand you meant business.”

“Mind your own business, Paul.”
She had to know I was serious. Maybe I just shocked her. She might need time getting used to the notion
.

“Fine. She’s your problem.”

“She’s not a problem; she’s just confused. Women sometimes need to let an idea take root.”

“Yeah. Ma was like that. Said she liked to sleep on things.” Paul shrugged. “If it doesn’t work out, Titus and I’ll go ahead and draw straws.”

Gideon glowered, and Paul left the barn. Gideon paced back and forth, trying to determine what had made calm, meek Miriam run off.
Maybe she thinks it’s wrong to have a wedding since Hannah died. But Hannah died nearly a year ago. Silly woman scampered off too fast. I need to reason with her
.

Heart breaking asunder, Miriam curled up on her bed. Gideon had offered her what she most wanted, but it would be an empty marriage because he felt no love for her.
God, please help me. Strengthen me. Make this terrible situation go away. I can’t bear to see
Gideon again tomorrow. I don’t know what to do
.

She’d come to her cabin because she couldn’t bear to have Gideon offer matrimony when his heart wasn’t in it. Her refusal was supposed to free him of any obligation.

A man who loves a woman pursues her, courts her, woos her. I won’t bind him to me because he has misguided loyalties to his brothers and nieces. Someday, when he meets the woman of his dreams, he’ll thank me for letting him off the hook
. The idea of Gideon falling in love and marrying someone else made her bury her face in the pillow and start crying again.

Papa always spoke the message, but Mama had a knack for speaking words of wisdom at the right time. Miriam wished Mama were here to share this burden.
“I rely on
God’s Word and prayer, but when I flounder, God sometimes speaks to me in a song.”
Mama’s words sifted through Miriam’s aching heart. She huddled on the bed and waited. Soon a hymn threaded through her mind.

“When darkness seems to hide His face, I rest on His unchanging grace.”
The lyrics pulled at her. She started to hum but gave up. All she managed was a broken, off-key croak—a pathetic sound that matched the shattered feeling in her heart.
“When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my Hope and Stay.”

Miriam wiped tears from her face.
Lord, be my Hope and Stay. Everything around me is giving way, but Thou changest not
.

In the midst of her prayer, a solid, single
thump
rattled her door. Gideon. No one else “knocked” like that.

“Miriam!”

No one else bellowed like that, either.

“We need to talk.”

She sat on the edge of her bed. “You’re not talking; you’re hollering like a madman.”

“If I’m insane, it’s your fault.” He lowered his voice. “Take pity on me and get out here.”

“Why don’t you take pity on me and leave me alone?”

He groaned. “You’ve been crying, haven’t you?”

She didn’t answer. Lying was a sin, but she figured keeping her mouth shut wasn’t exactly the same thing. He didn’t have a right to know how she felt, anyway.

“We can work this out. I know we can,” he cajoled.

Waiting wasn’t going to make the problem go away. If anything, the longer Gideon stood out there, talking at her door, the greater the chances were that all of his brothers would get involved in this travesty. Miriam crossed the floor.

“Any problem can be worked out if folks are reasonable.”

“And,” she said as she opened the door and stared up into his face, “they have a handful of straws.”

Gideon gave her a baffled look.

Mortified to the core, Miriam admitted, “I know about what happened. You’re supposed to be stuck with me, but I’m not going to be a part of it. So now can we stop all of this embarrassing nonsense and get back to being normal?”

“If you knew, why are you mad?”

“You mean, you’re supposed to have that right because you’re the one who lost and drew the short straw?” Her jaw jutted out. “You can be a happy man again. Go back and tell your brothers I let you off the hook.”

“Have you taken leave of your senses? Why would I do an idiotic thing like that?”

Miriam let out a choppy sigh. “I’m not going to run away with some other rancher or cowboy. I’m committed to staying here.”

“That’s all well and good, but—”

“So you didn’t have to draw straws. It was unnecessary.”

“Sweet pea, I don’t get it at all. If anything, I’d think you’d feel better, knowing how that all worked out.”

She stared at him in utter amazement.

Gideon’s expression shifted. “Bryce is the only one who would have blabbed. What did he tell you?”

“I refuse to discuss this.”

“Tough. I want you for my bride. I refused to take a chance at not having you. My mama and daddy were a love match, and I wouldn’t settle for anything less. You’re my one-in-a-million chance to truly be happy, and I want to make you happy, too. I couldn’t risk Paul or Titus getting the straw, so I took ’em all.”

“What?”

“Right out there in the barn in front of my brothers, I grabbed those straws and ground them into the dust.” He let out a rueful chuckle at the memory. “Titus teased me about volunteering, and I shocked him out of his socks when I said I couldn’t stand to let you go to anyone else—that you were mine.” He spread his hands. “If you’re wanting fancy courtin’, I’ll do my dead-level best, but I’m warning you here and now, I’m liable to make a mess of it.”

“Yup, he is,” Bryce called.

“Hush and get in the house.” Gideon didn’t even bother to look over his shoulder. He continued to look her in the eyes. “I’ve got me five pesky brothers and a busy ranch, but that’s just the world God set me in. It wasn’t ’til the day you arrived that I came to life. You challenged me to be the man God wants me to be. You brightened each day.”

“You feel that way about me?”

“Sweet pea, you marched in here and stole my heart before I knew what happened. I love you. Now I was hopin’ to take you on a nice stroll under the moon and declare my undying love, but you’re skittish of poison oak. Where’s a fellow to take his gal so’s he can propose?”

She stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, “You can take me in your arms, Gideon. That’s where I’d really love to be.”

Two weeks later, Gideon and Paul rode out to check on fencing. Titus went to town, and Gideon suspected he’d be there awhile. He’d nicked himself shaving, borrowed Paul’s bay rum, and gladly accepted Miriam’s offer to iron his shirt.

“Titus is sweet on Priscilla White,” Paul said.

“I figured as much. A man’s got a right to pick his mate. Can’t say I’d be thrilled if he marries her, though.” Gideon eased back in the saddle. “Her pa calls her ‘Prissy’ for good cause.”

“Her mama wants her to catch the banker. Rovel has more money than anyone else hereabouts. Expensive as all of Priscilla’s dresses are, I reckon she’ll want a man with wads of money.”

“Don’t tell Titus that. He’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Not long thereafter, Titus rode up. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. “You’re never gonna believe this.”

“What I believe is, you’d best better use your bandanna instead of your sleeve.” Gideon scowled at him. “Miriam’s already busy enough without having to do extra laundry.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Laundry?”

“No. Miriam being busy. She’s not going to be in the least bit happy, Gideon. It’s going to upset her.”

“What’s going to upset her?”

“I saw the circuit rider.”

Gideon’s eyes narrowed. “Where? When?”

“He stopped through here to announce he’s takin’ on a regular pastorate and won’t be coming through anymore.”

“Not yet, he can’t! The wedding’s in two weeks.”

Titus slapped his hat back on his head. “Well, that’s why I’m here—to tell you that he’ll come out to the house at breakfast tomorrow to do the wedding. It’s either that, or you and Miriam will have to go into San Francisco alone to get hitched properlike.”

Gideon turned his horse toward the house. During the half hour it took to ride there, he tried to figure out how to break the news to Miriam. From the evening she’d accepted his proposal, she’d been working on plans for a storybook wedding. Every evening, she’d chatter on about what she’d done that day. A whole hive of bees couldn’t come close to matching such industry. Their honey wouldn’t be half as sweet, either.

A newly made wedding shirt awaited Gideon. Miriam had sent all of the brothers out with fancy handwritten invitations. She’d gotten Paul to build an altar and Bryce to polish Mama’s silver candlesticks. By transplanting clumps of wildflowers, she had the yard looking downright fancy. Come winter, those flowers would die out, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her so. As long as she was happy and they’d make for her fairy-taleperfect wedding, everything suited him just fine.

The problem was, if they got married tomorrow, she wouldn’t have the fancy cake all baked or her dress finished. She thought she had fourteen days; she had fourteen hours.

Chapter 18

H
itching Splotch outside the house, Gideon rehearsed what he’d say. Reba White stood in the door like an avenging angel and made him lose his lines when she dramatically struck a pose very much like a starfish holding fast to the doorjamb and squawked, “Get back on your horse this very minute! You’re not allowed here.”

“I need to see Miriam.”

“Absolutely not!”

Gideon headed for the door, fully expecting Reba to calm down and yield. “Reba, this is important.”

She looked as belligerent as a just-saddled feral mustang. “Nothing is more important than your future.”

“Yup. That’s why I need to see Miriam.” He stepped forward, figuring Reba would cave in and back up so he’d get by her. He was wrong. Toe-to-toe with her, he glared down. “I don’t have time to waste here.”

“You’ve got a lifetime, cowboy. Whatever you have to say can just wait ’til supper.” She whispered, “We’re working on Miriam’s dress. You can’t see it.”

“I don’t care about the dress; it’s Miriam I need to see.”

“She’s in it—or what we have started of it. I have her pinned into the bodice, and it’s taken us all morning to get it just right.”

“Good. So it’s done.” That boded well. Relief flooded him.

“Done?” Reba laughed. “Gideon, it’s just pinned. We have to sew it together and—”

“Miriam.” He raised the volume slightly without letting the dread show. His bride set lots of store in having this pretty dress, and he was going to have to tell her—

“Yes?”

“Come here, sweet pea.” Rustling told him she’d be there in a minute.

Wrapped in the tablecloth, she appeared just behind Reba. An area about the size of his fist got singed on the tablecloth when he’d wrapped her in it to extinguish the fire. He didn’t tell Miriam he could see airy white material through the hole. She’d already listed crocheting a tablecloth as something she needed to do before the wedding.
One more reason for her to get in a dither
.