The Horseman

Chapter Twelve

“Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?” The minister’s question hit Dillon like a sucker punch.

Although he had two weeks to get used to the idea that she’d said yes, it still left him reeling and gasping for air. You’d think a man who’d done nothing but wish for Katelyn’s hand in marriage since he’d spotted her on that first moonlight night wouldn’t be quaking in his boots when he was getting exactly what he wanted. But he was. It wasn’t getting married that was scaring him.

His bride kept glancing toward the door.

Did she want to escape? Was she going to dash off down the empty aisle in the middle of her vows? Or was she simply going to say she’d rather crawl on her hands and knees over the Rocky Mountains in winter than marry a workingman like him?

Worrying about whether she’d bolt or not was going to give him an apoplexy.

Don’t let me down, angel. Since he was in a church, he hoped the heavens would hear his request.

“Repeat after me,” the minister instructed. “I, Dillon Michael Hennessey…”

He did his best to concentrate. He didn’t want to make a mistake. He meant these words with all he was. Heart, body and soul. “…to honor and cherish, in sickness and in health,” he vowed. He felt as tall as the sky. In a few more moments, she would be his wife.

His wife. He couldn’t believe it. He felt near to bursting with pride.

“I, Katherine Lyn Green,” she spoke, her words vibrating like a harp’s string, she sounded so nervous.

You have nothing to fear, he wanted to tell her. He’d never let anything hurt her. He’d protect her with his life, love her with his heart.

She was beautiful in one of the dresses he’d bought for her. In fact, everything she wore had been from him. It was thoughtful of her, since the clothes she’d brought with her in her little satchel were much fancier.

But in the green-and-tan calico she looked more like a horseman’s wife. Her hair was up in a knot, and a few unruly curls had tumbled over her brow and into her eyes. Such a beautiful woman, and she was his. All his.

The ceremony was almost over. She hadn’t run yet. She’d repeated her vows perfectly. Her palms against his were damp and he could feel her fear the same way he could feel the flutter of her pulse at his fingertips.

“If there is any reason…” the minister called out in the empty church.

Words Katelyn could not listen to. They reminded her of another wedding, of feeling as if she’d been handed a jail sentence with a man she didn’t love.

What was she doing marrying another man she didn’t love?

Dillon is different. He’s kind. He’s good. I care about him. But she didn’t love him. Her mind swirled with doubt. What if this marriage turned out no better than the last?

No, Dillon was different. Better.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The minister’s words drew her from her thoughts and into the small church as her husband took her face in his hands, gazed down at her as if he cherished her only and utterly and covered her lips with his.

His kiss was like moonlight on the prairie. Stunning. Silvery. So beautiful it hurt. Tears gathered in her eyes. Hope took seed in her soul.

What about this man? He broke the kiss and in the reverent silence that followed, he folded her against him, his arms closed around her. Her cheek rested against his chest. She fit against him as if she’d been made to. Something happened inside her. Something changed. His hand settled into the small of her neck. His lips brushed her brow once and again.

How did he do it? How could he reach inside her like that with a kiss? Why could he stir her in places long dead and buried? Like frozen ground beneath a winter’s snow? It hurt, this quiet affection finding life inside her.

His hand stroked her face, lifted her chin to meet his eyes, and when he smiled, the ice cracked. Like winter into spring, she felt as if she were breaking inside and renewing. She didn’t know what the feeling was in her chest, growing and spreading and hurting all at once. It was more than caring. More than affection.

Was it love?

“C’mon, Mrs. Hennessey.” He grinned at her and kissed the tip of her nose. “Let me take you home.”

With him. She took a step down the aisle, through the echoing church. The pews were empty. Already her life was different. When she’d married Brett, it had been in a crowded church with her mother fussing about how everything had to look and her stepfather furious about last-minute expenses.

It will be different this time. This time, there was only her and Dillon. There was no expensive wedding dress, just the crisp new calico she wore. The marriage would be different, too, because the man was.

He held the door for her, and a bright sun warmed them.

Nearly two weeks had passed since she’d accepted Dillon’s proposal and the weather had turned again. Melting snow plopped off the edge of the roof as she followed Dillon down the front steps and into the churchyard. A mild wind blew over her face as Dillon took her hand and helped her into his small wagon’s high board seat.

He climbed in beside her. “Thank you for marrying me. I thought you were going to jilt me a few times. You kept looking at the door.”

“I was nervous,” she confessed. “I thought I was going to faint.”

“Am I that terrifying?” He sobered, his brow drawing down, and he looked strangely vulnerable. This man so mighty.

“No. But I am scared.”

“You’re with me now. You’re as safe as can be.”

“I know.” That made him relax, and when he smiled, she could see his love for her gleaming like a brand-new promise. One that had not yet been broken.

How did she tell him it wasn’t that kind of scared? He could let her down. He could fail her. Because she cared for him so much. Was he truly the man she’d come to know? She was gambling her heart that he was.

How risky was that? She had grown up in a house where appearances were perfect, but beneath was a different story. Her marriage to Brett had been no different. He had been polished and well-spoken and had immense respect in the community. And once he’d gotten her back home after the wedding dinner at the town’s best hotel…

Dillon’s not like that. She knew that. But as his hands gripped the reins and he called out to the horses, the power of them was unmistakable. The truth was, she was gambling her future on a man she did not know well. And all because she had the chance to be loved.

The chance. Not the certainty.

Dillon waited until the bustling traffic and the noise of town was behind them and they were jostling along the open prairie. “Did I ever tell you about the real man’s rules?”

“No, but you did mention them the night you drew my bath.”

“Yes, I believe I gave you a good introduction.”

“Introduction? You just want to see me without clothes on.”

“True, I won’t lie to you. I figured I was going to marry you anyway, and you were unwell. You needed help into that tub.”

“And I suppose you didn’t want to trouble Mrs. Miller to come help me, since she had an inn to run.”

“See, you understand. I was only interested in bringing pleasure to you.” He settled the reins in one hand so he could hold hers.

She loved the thrill of his fingertips grazing across her bared skin. How would he touch her tonight? Maybe he would rub his way from the base of her spine to the top of her head in those slow, deep circles she’d liked.

Desire welled up through her, like champagne newly opened bubbling up and over, spilling everywhere. He would be loving to her, right?

“These commandments come from my grandfather’s teachings.”

“Teachings? Was he a scholar?”

“He was a very wise man. He could talk with horses. A rare gift.”

“You talk to them. I’ve seen you.”