She felt a ripple of unease. She didn’t want to talk about herself. “I’m twenty-three.”
“Why’d you wait so long to get married?” Benjamin asked.
“I guess…” She felt the first stirrings of panic. “I guess I just never met the right man.”
“Until Pa,” Del said innocently.
“Yes. Until now.”
The little girl was still obviously pleased with her new knowledge about her name. “Were you ever called anything besides Isabella?”
Izzy thought about the taunts she’d endured for a lifetime. Names so cruel, even now, just thinking about them caused her pain.
“No.” She reached for the coffee, averting her gaze. “Just plain Isabella.”
Beside her Matt watched, wondering what had caused her abrupt mood change. One moment she’d been relaxed, animated. The next she seemed nervous, wounded. He watched as she poured coffee, then topped off his cup, before placing the blackened pot back on the coals. Her hands, he noted, were rough and work-worn, the nails torn and ragged. Not the hands of a refined, elegant lady. And he’d noticed something else. Though her gown was spotless, the hem and cuffs were frayed and the fabric was nearly threadbare.
She’d arrived with nothing more than the clothes on her back and a small valise. Where was the accumulation of a lifetime? Clothes, linens, dishes, treasured mementos? Years ago, when he and his family had set off from home across the country, Grace had insisted on bringing every single one of her treasures. In fact Grace had…
Annoyed at the direction of his thoughts, he stood. “Time to get moving.”
Aaron got to his feet and helped his father load the buck into the back of the wagon. The others, as if by some unspoken command, set to work dousing the fire and packing up whatever food remained. In no time their campsite was nearly as clean as when they’d arrived.
The children climbed into the back of the wagon and settled themselves comfortably among the sacks of supplies. Matt climbed up to the driver’s seat and offered a hand to Izzy. With a flick of the reins they started off.
As they climbed higher into the mountains the air grew sharper, clearer. Izzy drew her shawl tightly around her shoulders and looked up at the big golden moon, the stars glittering in a velvet sky.
“Cold?”
Matt’s voice beside her had her jumping. “No. I’m fine.”
“There are some blankets in the back of the wagon.”
She shook her head. “Leave them for the children. I expect they’ll be asleep soon.”
He nodded. “It’s been a full day for them. And for you.”
When she remained silent he said, “I’m sorry about the preacher.”
“You couldn’t help that he was drunk.”
“No. But we…caught him at a particularly bad time.”
She turned to glance at him. “Is there a good time?”
Matt shrugged. “I don’t see him much. But I expect he stays sober on Sundays, at least until his service is over.”
After a long moment of silence he said, “I was afraid he’d keel over before he could finish the ceremony.”
The warmth of unspoken laughter in his deep voice had Izzy smiling. “He would have, if it hadn’t been for that music stand. I’m sure it was the only thing holding him up.”
Laugh lines crinkled Matt’s eyes. “Did you notice that he had his pants on backward?”
“No. Really?” Izzy’s hand flew to her mouth, but she couldn’t smother the laughter that bubbled. “That explains why he kept tugging at his suspenders. I thought he seemed to be dressing when you first went to fetch him.”
“I found him upstairs over the saloon with Lil. Interrupted him before…” A deep chuckle turned into a roar of laughter. “I don’t know who was madder. The preacher or Lil. But I told him I’d give him a dollar if he could be dressed and downstairs by the count of ten. He made it with seconds to spare. And I’m sure by now Lil has that dollar tucked into her bodice.”
Izzy knew that she ought to be shocked by what she was hearing. But she couldn’t help herself. The silly mood and the rumble of laughter were contagious.
As the horses and wagon climbed ever higher, she and Matt continued laughing about the preacher and his unholy ways, until she heard a sound that had her blood freezing.
“What was that?”
“A wolf, calling to his mate.”
“A…wolf.” Fingers of ice pressed along her spine. “I didn’t realize there were wolves in these mountains. Will they attack?”
“If they’re hungry enough. Or cornered. But don’t worry. Mostly they attack livestock. They would only attack humans as a last resort.”
“How—” she touched a hand to her throat “—comforting.”
When the darkened outlines of the cabin and outbuildings came into view, Izzy turned to glance at the children. “They’re all asleep,” she said in hushed tones.
“They’ll be glad to climb into their beds,” Matt muttered. “And so will we.”
We. Whatever remained of Izzy’s light mood vanished. She had known, of course, that he would want to sleep in his own bed tonight With her. But she hadn’t allowed herself to think of it. Until now. Sweet salvation. What was she going to do?
She shivered.
“You’re cold.”
“No. Just…”
Ignoring her protest, he removed his cowhide jacket and draped it around her shoulders. That caused her to shiver more violently. She could feel the heat of his body, and the dark, musky scent of him that lingered in the folds.
As they neared the cabin the hounds leapt out of the darkness, setting up a chorus of barking that had the children sitting up, rubbing their eyes. Even before the wagon came to a stop the dogs had jumped into the back, tails thumping, tongues licking as they greeted their family.
“You can all get out here,” Matt called, “except for Aaron. He and I will get this carcass into the barn and gut it before we go to sleep.”
“Yes, sir.” Though the boy had been sound asleep just minutes before, he helped Izzy down, then climbed up and took the space beside his father.
Izzy watched the silhouette of man and boy as the wagon rolled toward the barn. When it disappeared inside, she turned and followed the others into the cabin.
Benjamin, half-asleep, was busy getting a fire started. Clement struck a match to the wick of a lantern and set it on the table. Del raced around collecting her precious chickens and shooing them out to the barn. When their chores were completed, the three children climbed the ladder to their sleeping loft.
“Good night, Isabella,” they called.
“Good night.” Izzy stepped gingerly around the chicken droppings and made her way to the fire, where she stood shivering. It wasn’t the chill of the cabin that had put this ice in her veins, she realized. It was knowing what was to come.
She’d known, of course. When she’d answered the letter. When she’d pulled up stakes and headed across the country. When she’d set foot on this mountain. She wasn’t addled. She knew what a man expected of a wife. And she was fairly certain she could comply. It’s just that it was so…unappealing to her. No, that wasn’t the word.