Jane Toombs - Wild Mustang

After pouring herself a glass, Laura sat down across from him.

“You got the look of someone with a troubled heart,” he said.

“It’s Sage,” she said, approaching the subject at a tangent. “She doesn’t want to leave you and Shane and it sounds as though she may have to unless—” She hesitated, uncertain how to go on.

“Unless you marry Shane.”

Laura blinked. How did he know? “Has Shane discussed this with you?” she asked.

Grandfather shook his head. “Sage and I had it all figured out he’d have to marry someone. Problem was, we knew he wouldn’t take on just anyone. Then I had this dream just before you came along. The minute we set eyes on you, Sage and I knew you’d been sent.”

“Sent?” she faltered.

“Yup. You see, that no-account pa of Sage’s got off the booze a couple of years ago, got himself a good job and, I figure, a good woman like my daughter was. I asked a friend who lives down that way to find out who she is, and he says she’s got Miwok blood. That’s one of the California tribes. I don’t say that makes her perfect.” He grinned and added, “But I’m prejudiced.”

“I still don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“Look at it from Judge Rankin’s side. He might figure Sage should have a chance to be a part of two cultures and here she is living on a Paiute reservation when she could be living with her pa and a new stepmother who’s got some of the blood. Two cultures, right there. That’s where you come in. The judge looks at you and says, hey, two cultures right here on the res, why move the kid?”

Why you old schemer, she thought, annoyance mixed with amusement. You were planning to marry me off to Shane practically from the moment I walked in the door. And for all I know, even before. No wonder Sage asked if I was married.

“Did you put Shane up to asking me?” she demanded.

He shook his head. “I know better. I might have pointed out how well you and Sage got along, but you can’t push that stubborn one.”

“Well, he did ask me and I refused.”

“Figured you might.”

Laura blinked at him. “You didn’t think I’d agree?”

“Not till you had some time to think it over. I saw how you got on with Sage—you like her as much as she does you.”

“That’s true. But, still—marriage is another matter entirely.”

“Raised that boy. Never saw him break his word. You set the rules, and he’ll stick to ’em.”

She stared into Grandfather’s wise, dark eyes and decided to confide in him—up to a point. “I couldn’t possibly agree to marry any man. Not if he expected me to actually be his wife.”

“You think Shane’d have trouble with that?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“That’s your sticking point, is it? Easy enough to write it out and ask him to sign that he agrees. I’ll keep the paper safe. And you’d be safe, too.”

Laura bit her lip. Three days ago, she hadn’t met any of the Bearclaws. How could she even contemplate such an intimate involvement with Shane, signed agreement or not? And yet, there was Sage to consider. The girl’s future mattered a great deal to Laura. She’d never forgive herself if she turned away from this problem and something bad happened to Sage.

Somehow, too, she trusted Grandfather and believed what he’d told her about his grandson. “How long do you think we’d have to keep up the pretense?” she asked.

“According to what you wrote to us about what you’re doing with the mustangs, seems to me you’re going to be here in the West at least a year.”

Laura nodded. “My grant runs for one year, with the possibility of an extension if I find I need a few more months. But I won’t be in Nevada all that time. I have to check all the western herds.”

“A year sounds pretty good. Sage’ll be getting on for twelve by then.”

But still vulnerable, Laura thought. After a year, though, the girl’s father might well give up any further attempt to gain custody.

“It’s not like you’re yearning to marry someone else,” Grandfather added.

That was true. Even if Laura were gone, there’d be no need to hurry to end the arrangement unless Shane found a woman he could love. And she could always come back and visit Sage from time to time. She wished she could postpone a decision, but realized there wasn’t time to shilly-shally. She had to decide now.

“It scares me,” she confessed.

“Probably scares the stuffing out of Shane, too,” Grandfather countered. “Never saw a man so dead set on not marrying again.”

Maybe so, but women were more vulnerable than men in some ways. Could she trust a man she didn’t really know? On the other hand, Grandfather trusted him to keep his word, and he’d known Shane from birth.

“It would have to be a very private wedding,” she said.

Grandfather smiled at her, then reached for her hand and brought her palm to his chest. “Your words warm my heart,” he told her, releasing her hand.

She was touched by his gesture. At the same time she was shaken by the realization that she’d agreed to what seemed to her the wildest scheme in the world. Yet her main emotion was relief that the decision had been made, combined with the surprising sense that she was embarking on an adventure.

Laura shook her head, aware she was the least adventurous person she knew. In some ways, though, she found herself looking forward to this one.

Because of Sage, she assured herself. The girl needed her. Shane certainly didn’t, except for legal reasons, and she didn’t need him at all. Things really wouldn’t be any different between the two of them.

Grandfather rose from his chair. “You bring honor to the Bearclaws,” he told her before heading for the back door.

What a strange thing for him to say, though his words had pleased her. She rose and brought the glasses to the sink where she washed them and put them in the drainer. If she was going to live here, it was time to make herself useful. She began assembling the ingredients for the enchiladas, following the recipe Sage had left out for her.

Laura was sliding the chicken enchiladas into the oven when she heard the unmistakable click of Shane’s boots. She froze, made a face at herself, and went on with what she was doing, ignoring the panicked hammering of her heart.

When he entered the kitchen she was closing the oven door. Straightening, she blurted, “I told Grandfather we’d get married.”

He blinked. Had he changed his mind? Half of her hoped so, but the other, traitorous half waited to hear him say he hadn’t.

Shane tried to figure out what to say. Sure, he’d asked her because he couldn’t see any other way, but he’d been damn near positive she’d never agree.

“I warned him I expected a private ceremony,” she went on.

God knows he did, too. “No problem. Just Grandfather and Sage and the—” He paused. “Never got around to asking. Minister, priest, or justice of the peace?”

“I’d prefer a civil ceremony. A JP will be fine.”

He nodded. Seemed more appropriate for the kind of marriage they were heading into.

“Grandfather will keep the paper you sign,” she added.

“Paper?”

“Agreeing not to expect me to—well, we’ll have separate rooms and such.”

Shane watched her flush. He wanted to smile, but was aware he’d better not. “You can be sure I’ll never approach you in that way unless—” He paused, watching her as he finished, “—unless you want me to. Unless you decide to move into my bedroom.”

“Never!” She made a thrusting away motion with her hands at the same time as the word burst from her.

“I’ll sign the paper,” he said hastily, sorry to have provoked the distress he saw in her face.