Ruth Langan - The Courtship Of Izzy Mccree

Izzy and Matt avoided each other’s eyes as they nodded.

“Will you, Matt…” He squinted. “What’s your given name?”

“Matthew Jamison Prescott.”

“Will you, Matthew Jamison Prescott, take this woman for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do you part?”

Matt’s tone was hoarse. “I will.”

“And will you, Isabella McCree, take this man for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, until death do you part?”

Izzy chewed her lip. “I will.”

The preacher glanced at Matt. “Did you bring a ring?”

Izzy felt the heat of embarrassment color her cheeks. But to her amazement, Matt reached into his pocket and withdrew a small gold band.

“You may place the ring on her finger, Matt.”

Matt did as he was told.

“Now repeat after me. With this ring I thee wed.”

Matt’s voice was low and deep, more nearly resembling a growl as he repeated the words.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

At the same moment that Matt bent forward, Izzy stepped back. The thought of kissing him for the first time in front of his wide-eyed children, a drunken preacher and an impatient shopkeeper had her face flaming.

To cover the awkward moment, Matt shook hands with Webster Sutton and Jonathon Carstairs, slipping the preacher a dollar as he accepted a signed document. Then he caught Izzy’s hand and led her and the children outside.

“Well.” He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from touching her. “I thought I’d pick up some supplies before we leave. Do you need anything?”

She shook her head and walked along, struggling to keep up with his impatient strides. “I’ll go inside with you, though.”

“We can’t spare much time.” He waited for her to precede him through the open doorway.

Inside he gave Webster Sutton a list of supplies, then he and the children helped load them into the back of the wagon. There were sacks of flour and sugar, a pouch of bullets, another pouch of tobacco and a packet of coffee beans.

Matt came up behind Izzy, who was standing at the counter staring at the jar of candy sticks. “Would you like one?”

“Oh, no.” She glanced away. “I was just thinking about the children.”

“Wouldn’t want to spoil them,” he muttered.

“No. Of course not.” She swallowed her disappointment and turned away, heading toward the wagon, where the children had already settled.

A few minutes later Matt shook Webster’s hand before walking out. He climbed up to the wagon seat and flicked the reins. The team started up with a jolt. And within minutes, the town of Sutton’s Station was left in their dust.

When they were once again climbing toward their mountain cabin, Matt reached casually into his pocket and withdrew a handful of candy sticks.

The children’s eyes went wide with surprise and pleasure.

“Miss Mc—” He cleared his throat and started over. “Isabella wanted you to have something to celebrate our wedding,” he said as he passed the candy around.

Izzy experienced a jolt of pleasure so unexpected she had to stare hard at her hands to keep from clapping them together in delight. She had wanted so desperately to erase the jeers and insults the children had endured. And now, at least for a few minutes, they would know only sheer joy.

“Ooh.” There were long sighs and exclamations as the children accepted the special treats and popped them into their mouths.

Matt handed one to Izzy. “I thought you might like one, too.”

“Thank you.” She took a long, slow taste. “Peppermint. It’s my favorite. How did you know?”

He seemed suddenly pleased with himself. “I didn’t know. I had to guess. I just liked the color.”

“Did you get one for yourself?”

He shook his head. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll have a smoke.”

He lifted the cigar from his pocket, studying it a moment. Back at the store, he had debated the expense of such luxuries. Now, when he saw the happiness in his children’s eyes, not to mention his new bride’s, it seemed the perfect touch.

He scratched the end of a match, holding the flame to the tip. Breathing deeply, he emitted a stream of smoke that curled around his head before dissipating into the air.

“Miss McCree, now that you’re married to Pa, what should we call you?” Del asked from the back of the wagon.

“How about my given name, Isabella?”

“Isabella.” Del managed the word around the sticky candy, since she couldn’t bear to take it out even for a moment. “It sounds…musical.”

“If you’d rather not…”

“Oh, no. It’s pretty. I like it,” the little girl assured her. “It’s just so fancy. But it sure does suit a fancy lady like you.”

As the team ate up the miles, Izzy was left to ponder what she had just done. Was it wrong to pretend to be something she wasn’t? Was that the same as lying?

She chanced a quick sideways glance at the rugged profile of the man beside her. If he learned the truth, would he have the right to declare their marriage a lie, as well, and order her back to Pennsylvania?

And what of the children? What would they think if they ever learned the truth about her?

To calm her racing heart she reminded herself that she was thousands of miles away from anyone who had ever known her. Her past was dead and buried. She was now Mrs. Matthew Jamison Prescott. From now on, her life was whatever she chose to make it.

“We’d better rustle up some supper, Pa.” Aaron had long ago finished his candy and licked his fingers until there was no trace of the sticky sweetness left.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” Matt stubbed out his cigar after smoking only half, saving the other half for later. “We’ll stop over by that stream and see what we can find.”

He slowed the team to a walk and finally brought them to a halt in a clearing. “Get your rifle, Aaron,” he called as he climbed down.

Matt started to turn away, then, remembering his manners, extended a hand to help Izzy down.

The moment their hands touched, she felt a tingling along her spine that had her jumping. It wasn’t Matthew, she told herself as she struggled to calm her racing pulse. It was just the excitement of the day. She glanced at his face, to see if he had felt the jolt. But all she could see was his familiar frown. And those dark, penetrating eyes looking back at her.

“You and the children can gather wood and twigs for a fire. As soon as Aaron and I finish hunting, we’ll start supper.”

“Here?”

“You’re in the wilderness, Isabella. One place is as good as another.”

“Yes. Of course.” She turned away, eager to put some distance between them.

When he and his oldest son melted into the woods, Izzy and the others began searching for firewood. Before long they had enough for a bonfire.

“I wish Matthew had left us some matches,” Izzy muttered, drawing her shawl around her shoulders.

“We don’t need matches.” Benjamin took a flint from his pocket and huddled over the wood, which he’d layered with a patch of dried grass. In no time he had a tiny flame, which he soon coaxed into a blaze.

“Oh, Benjamin.” Izzy knelt in the grass and held her hands to the warmth. “That’s so clever of you.”

The boy beamed with pride. “It’s easy, once you know how.”

“I’ve never lived in the mountains before.” Izzy glanced at the three children, sprawled comfortably around the fire. “There’s so much I’ll need to learn.”

“We could teach you,” Del offered. The little girl glanced uncertainly at her brothers. “Couldn’t we?”