Barefoot Bride for Three Read online

“Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Nothing to worry about, Beth. You let us take care of you.”

  She slapped his shoulder. “If you won’t treat me like an adult, Trace Elliott, I’m moving in with Rowena Jones. See if the three of you like being on your own again.”

  Trace’s lip twitched at her growl but he kept silent.

  “I have the right to know what concerns me.” She watched him glower for a moment. “Big Joe’s still mad at me, isn’t he?”

  “Nothing we can’t handle.” He winked, almost as insulting as a pat on the head. “We’ll keep you safe.”

  She stared at him. “Oh, really?”

  He nodded as if satisfied he’d said everything he needed to say to the little woman.

  “What happens when all three of you are gone all day out in the fields or in the mountains chasing down cattle? There’s little ol’ me all alone at home, washing your socks, planting your garden, and preparing your supper. What if someone nasty comes calling? What then?”

  “One of us is always nearby.” His head settled lower on his shoulders.

  “You can’t get everything done with only two men.”

  “We’ll figure something out,” he muttered.

  “Trace Elliott!” She slapped him hard on the biceps, then flapped her hand at the sting. “Why don’t you trust me enough to tell me the truth?”

  “You’re a woman!”

  She gasped loudly and looked at her lap. “Oh, my goodness, you’re right. I’ve got breasts and there’s nothing between my legs. How could I have not noticed?” She waited a moment until the path was smooth before scooting her pillow as far away as she could and still stay on the bench.

  “A woman’s not strong enough to take care of herself.” Trace flicked the reins. The horses ignored him.

  “I took care of myself in that jail. Look what I did with that ugly deputy when he tried to kiss me!”

  “That was a lucky hit. If I didn’t pull my gun on him, he would have smashed you to the floor with one blow.”

  She huffed but didn’t deny the truth. “I’m strong enough to hold a rifle or shoot a pistol. A gun evens things out.”

  “Once you’re out of shot, all he’d have to do was haul you on a horse and ride away.”

  Trace muttered to himself for the next few miles while Beth steamed. She used her time wisely, deciding how to decorate her new room—in the barn. She’d make the place comfortable with warm quilts. She’d get a thick door with a bolt on the inside. And she’d never serve anything sweet again.

  “Aw, hell.” Trace sighed and stared straight ahead. “Frank thinks Big Joe’s joined the vigilantes. There’s talk that the sheriff of Bannack City is the leader.”

  “The sheriff is leader of the road agents?”

  Trace nodded. He twitched for a bit, keeping a close eye on the clouds slowly moving in, before settling. “One of Lily’s girls heard Big Joe wants you used hard but still breathing.” Trace looked down at her. A muscle jumped in his jaw. “After he lends you out to his friends for a while, he’ll likely beat you to death.”

  Beth grabbed the edge of the seat to keep from swaying. She took a few breaths to settle her stomach. “He only wants to beat me? Why?”

  “You don’t want to know.” He ground the words out between clenched teeth.

  “Yes, I do!”

  “Fine! He won’t sully himself with you.”

  She crossed her arms under her chest. As usual, it caught his attention. She waited until he met her eye.

  “Big Joe doesn’t know words like ‘sully.’ What did he really say?”

  “I will not use those words to my wife.”

  “Then use other ones. I want to know what he said.”

  Trace’s jaw jutted forward for a moment. “He ain’t gonna dirty his cock by putting it in an Elliott’s, uh,” mouth open, he flicked his eyes around, “in an Elliott.” He gave a sharp nod. “Happy now?”

  Beth couldn’t get a breath. She used her hand to fan herself. Her stomach clenched into a hard ball. Beside her, Trace gripped the leather traces so hard his sun-browned hands turned white.

  “Well,” said Beth after a few minutes. “He doesn’t want to rape me. At least we know the man does have limits.”

  “This isn’t funny!”

  “No, it isn’t. But I’d rather laugh than cry.” Suddenly chilled, she wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know why you thought I’d be better off not knowing.”

  “I want to protect you, Beth,” he said quietly after a moment. “You’re my wife. It’s my right and honor to keep you safe.”

  Beth looked up at his handsome face. The laugh lines were gone, deepened into stress cracks. She’d never had anyone protect her before, and she cherished his caring. But if someone wanted to do her harm, he’d wait until she was alone. For her own sanity, she wanted to protect herself, at least long enough for her men to come to the rescue.

  “Thank you. But I also need to protect myself when you’re not there. If I know how, I’ll be less afraid.” She glanced around. “There’s bears, catamounts, and snakes out there. Poison and fever and accidents. I can’t control any of that. Help me to learn to protect myself and our children. I may never need to pull that trigger. But if I do, at least I’d be prepared.”

  He inhaled, held his breath longer than she thought possible, and then gave an immense sigh. He muttered for a few minutes. She was sure she heard, “uppity woman,” among the usual growls. Muttering was better than frigid silence.

  “I was going to tell you about it,” he said. “After we got home.”

  “You really think I’d believe that when I had to drag it out of you?”

  “Dammit, woman! Why else would I buy you a rifle and pistol, and the ammunition to go with it? I sent out word I was looking for a dog to warn you if strangers approach the house. Walt took these off a miner before he could drown them.”

  “Walt deserves more than sweets for that. Perhaps I’ll sew him a new shirt. You won’t get jealous and shoot him if I give him a kiss on the cheek, will you?”

  She tilted her head and looked up at him, fluttering her eyelashes. Trace gave a snort almost as loud as a horse, not bothering to meet her glance.

  “The man was ready to put his life on the line for you. He can have all the cheek kisses he likes for giving you a pair of guard dogs.”

  “How sweet! Guns and dogs, all for me.”

  He frowned down at her. “You funning me?”

  “No, I’m happy for any presents, especially when they’re useful. They’ll help me take care of myself. When can I have my first shooting lesson?”

  Trace looked down at her smiling face and shook his head. “You’re as crazy as the rest of us.” He snorted and the horses joined him. The one in front of Trace lifted its tail and released a load of dung. Trace’s lip twitched. Beth coughed back a laugh.

  “You in cahoots with that mare? Dang, let one female win and soon the whole barnyard’s flapping.”

  Beth slid back close and nudged him, not too gently, with her elbow. He gave a loud oof as if she’d hurt him, then winked. He slapped the traces lightly and the horses increased their speed.

  Beth sat still the rest of the way home, just enjoying having Trace next to her. She knew all three men cared about her. Because Bannack City was so wide open and wild, some people in Tanner’s Ford felt they had to be extra strict as if to make up for the wickedness. Trace’s easy affection would keep those biddies clucking for weeks. Patsy Tanner was right. The way Trace treated her made people jealous.

  It wasn’t only what Trace did to her body that made her want him. That was wonderful. She’d grown up without anyone caring about her. Maybe that was why she wanted it so badly. Having three strong men protecting her was nice. The way they pleasured her was wonderful.

  But it wasn’t love.

  She’d known the quiet, demanding, arrogant man beside her for less than a week. Yet she knew him better than she had anyone in her life,
maybe even herself. She loved him, body and soul, but he couldn’t love her back. Wouldn’t. She was falling for Jack’s boyish eagerness and Simon’s calm depths as well. Would they love her, if Trace couldn’t?

  No matter. She’d make do. What she had now was far more than she could ever have dreamed of. The fact that she wanted more, was her little secret.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Simon and Jack will be right unhappy when they come home to only one pie between them,” said Trace. “They saw the bucket of berries you picked and they’ll think pies for dinner, supper, and breakfast.”

  “They have no reason to complain. There’s also a pot of stew and lots of leftover biscuits to go with it.”

  Beth turned around once more to make sure her four precious pies were safe. She’d set them on an old Hudson’s Bay blanket in a shallow box. It would stop them sliding on the wooden floor of the wagon and help keep them warm.

  “Those two always bicker. Ranger and Ben are also twins but I don’t remember them going at each other like that.”

  “You said Prudence MacDougal isn’t well enough to pick berries or make pastry. She was kind enough to invite me for a cup of tea. I will not be shamed by arriving without something special in return.”

  “Guess I gotta get down on my knees and thank God again for sending me to town that night. It would break my heart to think some other lucky man had you in his bed every night and your cooking in his stomach every day.”

  Beth twisted her mouth sideways and raised her eyebrow at her husband. “I think there was a compliment somewhere in there. Don’t get all sentimental on me, now.”

  Unable to touch her while using both hands to guide the horses, he nudged her with his elbow. “A man better say something nice to his wife when he’s taking her to visit a couple of bachelors.”

  “I’m visiting Prudence, not anyone else.”

  Trace turned to her, one eyebrow raised. A smile played around his lips. “Sweetheart, as soon as those boys see my pretty wife and smell those pies, you’ll be overrun by Scots.”

  “Are they all large and red like Gillis?”

  Trace shook his head. “Gillis had a different mother. Phoebe died at Fort Laramie birthing Louisa.” He sighed. “Finan MacDougal took his screaming daughter and rode out to the Indian camp to find a woman.”

  “His wife was barely in the ground and he wanted another one?”

  “He had a hungry baby girl with no ma or milk for her. He didn’t want to lose both wife and babe.”

  “What happened?”

  “Sunbird’s man was killed when she was only a few months along then her baby boy was born dead. After that, no man wanted her as a wife. When she heard Fin’s baby crying she rushed over, in pain from too much milk. After she fed the babe and both felt better, Fin set her on his horse and led them back to the fort. No one read the Book over them, but they’re still together.”

  “What did your mother think of all this?”

  “She had to accept it as Jessamine decided to be born. Sunbird knows healing. She delivered Jess that night, Ranger and Ben the following year, and Patrick two years after that.”

  Beth let the information sink in as Trace wrestled the wagon across the creek. She hadn’t had her monthlies since arriving in town. As far as she knew, it was the only way to tell if a baby was growing inside her. Perhaps next time she went to town she could ask someone about it, but who? If she was blessed with a child, who would help her with the birth?

  Neither spoke as the wagon rose up the far side of the creek. The MacDougals held the M-D Connected right across the valley from the Rocking E. It was one reason Rowena Jones was happy to sell her ranch to Ben rather than a stranger. No one could pass through the valley without both families knowing.

  “Elliott, ye auld coot! Ye finally smartened up and found a wife.”

  Birds erupted from the trees behind the log home at Gillis’s booming welcome. He wiped his forehead. He wore a homespun shirt, socks, and boots. Between his waist and hairy knees was a kilt of thin blue and green bands over red. A wider band, showing large squares of red with thin white lines, circled his hips.

  With an ease Beth found unsettling, he stuck the huge ax into the chunk of tree he used as a chopping block. His reddish-orange hair flamed just as bright as she remembered. The hem of the kilt swung side to side as he strode over.

  “Was waiting for the right one.” Trace slowed the horses to a stop. “The twins won’t like Beth giving away her baking to the lot of you.”

  “Baking?” Gillis sniffed. His bright blue eyes crinkled, and a wide smile showed white teeth between his bushy moustache and beard. “Berry pies?”

  Beth climbed off the seat and knelt in the back of the wagon. She touched the edge of a pie. Still warm, but not so hot she couldn’t pick it up.

  “Trace said you lived with your wife and two brothers. We brought one pie each.” One by one, she placed all four on the wagon seat.

  “Come visit any time you like,” said Gillis, licking his lips. He winked and lifted a pie in each large hand. “Lift your wife down so she can visit Pru, and we can have at these pies.”

  “Not until dinner!” Beth shook her finger at both men. They pouted, grinned at each other like five year olds, and then nodded. Trace lifted her down and followed her into the house, carrying the last set of pies.

  “Elliotts and MacDougals help each other all the time,” said Trace. “That’s why our homes are the same, Pa and Fin built them together.”

  “Not quite the same,” whispered Beth. “They have a wooden door on their bedroom rather than a curtain!”

  “Ah, but Nevin and Malcolm are a wee bit shy,” said Gillis, not bothering to pretend he hadn’t heard. He set his burden on the kitchen table. “They’re not like Simon and Jack.” He winked, then laughed when heat rose up her face. “About time those lads found some good luck.” He waited for Trace’s hands to be free before slapping him on the back, hard. “How ye been, old man?”

  “You don’t want me to upset Pru by showing her how I can still grind your face into the mud.”

  “She’s been moody the last few days. Mayhaps it would make her laugh. But warn me first. I wouldnae want to dirty me kilt.”

  “If I’ve been moody, you’ve been a fair grump, Gillis MacDougal.” With a swish of soft fabric, Prudence entered the room. “Out of my kitchen,” she said. She made shooing motions to the two giant men.

  “We’ve got our marching orders,” said Gillis. He shook his finger at his wife. “Don’t eat all the pie, my love. I’m already hungry.” He gently kissed her cheek and pushed Trace out the door.

  “He’s always hungry,” said Prudence. She smiled at Beth. “Shall we have tea, or would you prefer black current cordial?”

  “Cordial would be lovely.”

  As Prudence filled two slender glasses, Beth spent a few minutes entranced by the picture quilts hanging from the parlor walls. She admired the rich ruby color of the cordial before sipping. The sweet berry tang erupted in her mouth. It was so good she drank more.

  “I’ve never seen such beautiful art,” said Beth. “You must spend hours sewing.”

  “I’m not physically strong, but I can work with my hands. I also tat lace.” She held up one hand to show the froth of white edging her cuff.

  “It’s beautiful and finer than anything I’ve seen back East.”

  Prudence beamed. “Would you like some? I have plenty to choose from.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t.”

  “Elizabeth Elliott, you brought my hulking husband four hot pies. That’s worth a few inches of lace!”

  “Thank you,” said Beth. “I could use some to edge a special nightgown I’m sewing.”

  “You wear nightgowns in bed?”

  Beth remembered the deep kiss she saw Pru share with her husband in Patsy’s store. Beth needed another woman who could understand her life. Who else but the wife of her husband’s dearest friend?

  “Not for long,” she wh
ispered. She held her breath.

  Pru’s face colored deep pink. “Gill is so eager some evenings I finally made one with a tie at the throat. One pull and I’m all his,” she whispered back.

  Their eyes met, sharing understanding. One started snickering, then the other. They toasted each other and sipped. Pru offered Beth a seat on an upholstered sofa someone had hauled a long way west. They soon set their empty glasses on the table in front of them.

  “This is lovely cordial,” said Beth. “I feel rather lightheaded.”

  “Isn’t it grand? I fear Mrs. Jones adds quite a dose of spirits, but it is a treat.” She filled both their small glasses. They sipped contentedly for a few minutes.

  “I will have to get her recipe.” Beth smiled at Prudence. “Thank you for inviting me. You’ve got more color today than when we met in the mercantile. Are you feeling better?”

  “The heat and dry air are good for my lungs. I have more energy too,” she said, blushing, “to do what one does to become a mother.”

  Beth returned Prudence’s hopeful smile, pleased the other woman was just as honest and open. “That should make your husband very happy.”

  “Yes and no. His mother died in childbirth. He thinks I might as well.”

  “What do you think?”

  Pru looked out the window, blinking hard. “I think I can have a baby. But I’m not strong enough for the West. I thought I was, but I was a fool. And now it’s too late. I’m married to a wonderful man whose life is in Montana Territory.”

  “Wouldn’t he move East to care for you?”

  “He would do anything for me. Anything.” Pru raised both her eyebrows. “Can you see Gillis in a stuffy Boston parlor? That big, hairy, orange man with his booming voice and Scottish accent?” She shook her head. “Gillis needs to live here, where he grew up. I’ve had this cough so long I know it will never leave. Even if we moved East, I’d only live a few years longer.” She turned away, quickly blinking.

  Beth said a silent prayer while her new friend settled herself. “If there’s any way I can help, anything at all, I’ll do it for you.”

  “Thank you.” Prudence took a deep breath. “I have a younger sister, Amelia. She’s four years younger than I and much smarter.” Prudence shrugged. “My sister doesn’t do silly things like run away to find adventure, marry the first handsome man who asks for her hand, and follow him into the wilderness.”