Marry Me by Sundown Page 30

  While Morgan could have gotten his friends in Nashart to help him build his store in just a few days once all the lumber had arrived, Violet had reminded him that it wouldn’t be grand enough for the distinctive furnishings he intended to sell, so he’d sent off a few more telegrams to the Melling brothers in New York, asking them to find an architect as well as an experienced manager for him.

  Texas got married the very day he arrived back in town, too eager to make Emma his wife to wait for a traditional wedding to be arranged, so only Emma’s family witnessed the ceremony. Two days later, he left to take Daniel and Evan to the mines—but Emma went with them. No more separations for those two, a thought that made Violet sad because it reminded her that she would soon be separating herself from her own family—once again. Which had sparked an argument—with herself. But her brothers helped end it by stating a simple truth.

  Both were angry with her when she got around to telling them her plans. But it was Daniel who said, “It may take months for Father to regain his usual vigor. Are you really going to leave us before then?”

  “I could return with my husband.”

  “An English lord visiting America? Must you marry him, Vi? Nine years was too long for you to be over there, and you want to make it forever?”

  She’d started to cry, and emotion won out. It was that word forever. And she’d already been leaning toward not going. It was definite now.

  And today—today she was getting married. Well, maybe. She wasn’t exactly sure how it all came about, but she was certain it had started with Mary Callahan, who came into the dining room just as she and Morgan were finishing lunch. He had business in town and had just stood up to leave. He kissed his mother in passing. Mary stared after him for a moment before she turned to Violet and remarked, “He’s partial to you.”

  Morgan had used the same word back in Butte, but it hadn’t been clear what he meant by it, so Violet asked his mother, “What exactly does that mean around here? Something more than fond?”

  “Hell, yeah, a lot more. And it’s obvious. How come you don’t see it?”

  Actually, she did see it when he looked at her, touched her, did nice things for her; it was just that she’d never heard it. But Morgan was a man of action, not a fancy talker. And, as she knew from playing poker with him, he held his cards close to his vest.

  With a big smile on her face, she ran upstairs to find her father. Stepping into his room, she said, “What would you think about my staying here and marrying your partner?”

  He put down the book he was reading, stared at her for a moment, then laughed. “I think that would make me incredibly happy. He already seems like a son to me. And I must confess that I saw this coming—well, I hoped. So I suppose I should also confess that I haven’t needed to convalesce here, sweetness. I was just giving you and Morgan time to realize you never want to part. You can tell him you both have my blessing.”

  Delighted, she sat in the chair next to his bed to make a few confessions of her own, how her old dreams of marrying an English lord had waned in comparison to being partners with Morgan in his store—yes, he’d asked her to be his business partner—and how love was so very confusing, but temptation wasn’t. Yes, she even said that to her father! And she admitted that she’d known for a while now that she wanted to marry Morgan, but now that she was sure of how he felt about her, she didn’t want to wait another moment, wanted to be married today.

  It was late afternoon when she went downstairs to see if Morgan had returned. He hadn’t, so she rode to town to find him. She could wait for Morgan to do the asking, but she couldn’t imagine how long that might take. It was a momentous decision for her to do the asking instead, and if she thought about it long enough, she wouldn’t. So she rode straight for the church first, then set out to find Morgan. She was impatient by the time she spotted him leaving the telegraph office.

  She galloped toward him, reined in abruptly, and said without preamble, “Marry me by sundown. The preacher has been informed. My father has been informed. You can tell your parents.” And she rode off just as abruptly with her cheeks scalding from a deep blush.

  The trouble was, she felt like her old self in Nashart, especially after being with her brothers this week, so she’d gotten a bit bossy. There was no other excuse for what she’d just done, ordering him to marry her instead of asking as she’d intended. She was mortified! How could she face him again? How could she not?

  Those thoughts raced through her mind as she rode back to the ranch. But when she came to Tiffany and Hunter’s house, she slowed down. She could hide there for a while. But as soon as Tiffany opened the door to her pounding, she cried, “I ordered him to marry me today!”

  “What did he say?”

  “I didn’t give him a chance to say anything!”

  “But you beat him to it?”

  “I did what?”

  Tiffany couldn’t stop laughing long enough to answer, but when she finally did, she said, “It was only a matter of time, honey. Everyone guessed it would happen soon. Morgan is probably so relieved that you beat him to it and did the asking. Why wait, after all, when you both know it’s what you want? And don’t worry about a thing. I’ll get you to the church on time. Did you specify a time?”

  “I told him by sundown.”

  Tiffany giggled. “How western of you. I bet that made him laugh.”

  If she hadn’t left him shocked. If he wasn’t already riding out of the territory. . . .

  But she stood in the church late that day as the sun set, wearing one of her white evening gowns trimmed in lilac satin, more sedate than one of her ball gowns. Tiffany had fetched it for her, since Violet was too afraid to return to the ranch and run into Morgan if he was back there. Tiffany even supplied her own wedding veil for the occasion. And sneaked Violet into town early so they wouldn’t run into any of the family. She’d even refused to let Hunter into the house while they were getting ready. Tiffany Callahan was turning out to be a wonderful friend.

  Her father, along with Morgan’s family, started arriving at the church, followed by most of the people in town. Word had spread fast. She wished the Faulkners could have been there, too. What a long letter she would have to write to Sophie and Aunt Elizabeth! Morgan’s brothers tried to talk to her when they arrived, but Mary shushed them, which was a good thing, because the slightest wrong word could make Violet bolt, she was that nervous. Morgan hadn’t arrived yet, and the most nerve-racking part was standing at the altar waiting for him. Traditionally the groom waited for the bride. But nothing about this wedding was traditional, including the possibility the groom wouldn’t show up for it—although his family must expect him to or they wouldn’t be there, which was why she hadn’t run yet.

  And then he walked down the aisle toward her, her bear, amazingly handsome in his fancy black suit, wearing the biggest grin. He wanted to be there! She was so relieved she thought she might swoon.

  When he reached her, he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, then whispered, “Yes, by the way.”

  Hunter took that moment to call out teasingly, “Who’s holding the shotgun?”

  “I am,” she and Morgan said in unison.

  She gave Morgan a weak smile for shouldering the blame. “I’m sorry about how I broached the subject with you.”

  “I’m not. I wasn’t going to. I love you too much and didn’t want to try to keep you here if you really wanted to go.”

  Hearing that, she threw her arms around him. But someone else yelled, “Get married first!”

  They laughed, faced the preacher, and got hitched. Yes, she could definitely think of marriage to Morgan that way. She was going to embrace his way of life, not try to lure him to hers. Well, good intentions . . .

  He was kissing her before the preacher said he could, and she got lost in it, reveled in the sweet, hot sensations he evoked, would have stayed that way forever if Morgan hadn’t taken her hand and rushed them out of the church amid all the loud congrat
ulations. He helped her get in the buckboard waiting out front, then drove them out of town—but not toward the ranch.

  “They’re all going to want the traditional bride’s kiss,” he warned. “Just make sure you slap any men who take too long at it, or I’ll have to start throwing punches.”

  But he’d just absconded with her! She started to laugh again. She had a feeling she was going to do a lot of that this evening, she was so happy. She glanced back to see the whole town following them, in wagons, and buckboards and on horseback. And then she heard the music, and looked ahead once more to see lights strung up in the field they were approaching. There was a large wooden platform there, too, and many benches and tables laden with food.

  “This is where the town comes for gatherings and dances and to celebrate special events,” he explained. “And today couldn’t be more special. We’ll leave when you’re ready, or if either of us gets too drunk. I booked us a room at the hotel. There’s no way we’re spending our wedding night with my family down the hall.”

  She grinned and stroked his face. “Good idea, but we’re not getting foxed. You can partake of a few, but I want you sober tonight.”

  “Bossing me already, Mrs. Callahan?”

  She chuckled. “Sorry, it’s a habit. And I’m never going to stop being embarrassed about asking you to marry me.”

  “You didn’t ask, as I recall. But let me fix that. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  “Too late, I already am!”

  “Yes, but now you’re not the only one who asked.”

  That was sweet of him, but she already knew that about him, and that he was kind, thoughtful, and generous, once you got to know him—even before you did, her father being a prime example. She wasn’t amazed that she’d fallen in love with this man, only that she hadn’t figured it out sooner.

  They danced and enjoyed a few drinks, and the men lined up for kisses. And she got to meet the rest of Tiffany’s family, the Warrens, who had once been on the other side of that old feud, but were now close friends of the Callahans.

  Her father’s toast brought tears to her eyes. “To the bride and groom, I wish the happiness I found in my own marriage, the blessing of children who will make me a grandfather”—he paused to wink at Violet—“and the joy of cherishing each other. To Violet, my only daughter, my pride and joy, I know you think this is the happiest day of your life, but love has a way of giving you many such moments. Enjoy them all—and try not to boss your husband too much.” He waited for the laughter to quiet down before continuing, “To Morgan, I truly couldn’t have asked for a better man to give my daughter to in marriage. I already thought of you as a son, so I couldn’t be happier that you’re now a member of our family—let your wife boss you a little, she can’t help it.”

  More laughter, especially when Morgan said, “I said I do, now I say I will!”

  “To the bride and groom!” Charles finished, raising his glass.

  It was such a festive evening she hated to see it end, but she was more eager to have her new husband all to herself, so she was the one who suggested that they slip away quietly, which they did.

  On the ride to the hotel in the buckboard, she held up her hand to admire her wedding band, wondering how Morgan had gotten it so quickly. She’d visited every store in Nashart that week, and none had sold rings, as far as she’d noticed.

  “Did you borrow these rings for the ceremony?” she asked.

  “No, I ordered them before we left Butte, the day you agreed to come to Nashart. I was already hoping you’d never want to leave once you got here.” Watching her, he added, “Maybe I shouldn’t order jewelry for the store. I’ll end up giving it all to you instead of selling it, if it makes you look like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “So delighted.”

  “But I won’t let you give it all to me. I am your partner now and will have a say.”

  “You are?”

  “Most definitely. I’d already decided, but this partnership”—she tapped the ring—“needed to come first. Well, I had to marry someone before I could go into business with a man, you understand. It would have been beyond the pale otherwise. So it was only proper that I ask you to marry me first.”

  He laughed. “I’m glad you thought of being proper.”

  She blushed. “That wasn’t all I thought about. How I feel about you in particular sort of made it mandatory that you come first.”

  He let go of the reins to drag her into his lap. She squealed until she realized they were in front of the hotel and he was only lifting her down, yet he didn’t let go of her. He carried her inside and straight up the stairs. She recalled how differently she’d felt when he’d carried her out of that hotel in Butte, rolled up in a blanket. She couldn’t stop smiling. When he set her down, the door to their room was closed behind them and the bed was in sight. She wondered why they weren’t kissing already. The last time they’d been alone in a hotel room, the atmosphere had been explosive. But Morgan was slowly taking the pins from her hair, then softly kissing her neck, then removing more pins. He was also gently nudging her backward.

  Feeling her temperature rising, she said, “I’m not going to say I’m partial to you, though I am. I prefer to say I love you, because I do, you know.” That got her a kiss before he continued that slow nudging toward the bed. With a slight blush, she added, “I was miserable when I left you, and I suppose I can tell you that now.”

  He confessed as well. “I was hoping for more time to win you by tempting you with being my partner. But if you had said yes, you better believe I would have asked you to marry me then and there.”

  She chuckled. “You’ve made it very hard for me to be proper around you and keep my hands off you.”

  Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he kissed her long and luxuriously before he said against her lips, “No more resisting, so if you’ve a mind to ravish me, go right ahead. For the first time, I know we have all night.”

  She grinned at his suggestion about ravishing him, and she definitely liked that she had all night to do it. “That sounds like you’ll get to cuddle,” she teased.

  His grin grew wide. “Every night from now on. God, woman, you make me so bloody happy.”

  She started laughing; he started kissing her more deeply. So maybe she would lure him just a little bit to her ways, even if only in the phrases he used. Time would tell. But the only thing that really mattered tonight was that the bear was now her husband, and good grief, he made her so bloody happy, too!

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