Rocky Mountain Man (Historical) (21 page)

Later that evening

B
etsy didn't bother to knock on the back door of her childhood home, mostly because she recognized Joshua in the window, straining to see through the evening shadows the tall mountain of a man leading a trembling Morris to the stable. Duncan would be kept busy putting up the horse for a few minutes, and that was about the time she needed to make her point.

The moment she pushed open the door, the warmth and aroma of the kitchen wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Thousands of memories of her childhood rolled through her, of Mama in the kitchen and of Pa coming home from work at the bank. Of her brothers scraped or bleeding or sporting a broken arm or two, since growing boys would be boys.

This was the kind of home she and Duncan would have one day, one filled with memories of decades. A home she and Duncan could grow old in together, in
their hideaway cabin in the forest. Where their children and grandchildren could visit, boldly walking in the door without knocking, for they were coming home.

Mama was whipping potatoes in a giant kettle and asking Anya to check on the buttermilk biscuits that ought to be done. The moment Mama spotted her only daughter, the happiness lit her up like sunshine in December. “It's about time, young lady. And twenty-two minutes late! I was about to send the boys out for you. Come make your mother happy and give me a kiss.”

“As soon as I'm done talking with my lovely brother Joshua.” Betsy unhooked her hood, focusing her attention on Joshua.

He didn't even have the grace to look repentant. He was working up a good mad by the looks of it. His mouth was twisted into a premature frown and the tendons stood out in his thick neck. His eyes spit fire as he took her by the wrist and pulled her into the dining room, where crystal and china glinted in the lamplight. “How dare you bring that man here to our mother's house?”

“Easy. He's proposed and I've accepted. Isn't that wonderful news? We're going to announce it at dinner, so don't spoil the surprise for Mama.”

The muscles in Joshua's jaw spasmed and a tick beat right along with his pulse. “Have. You. Lost. Your.
Mind?
”

“No. Duncan was falsely accused, and if you don't believe me, I don't care. That is how you will treat him. He is a wonderful man to me and I love him. I'm warning you, Joshua, don't ruin this chance I have for happiness. Love comes around rare enough in life the
first time. Mama has said she'll accept him, and I expect you to do the same.” She pitched her voice a little louder, in the direction of the archway into the parlor. “And you, as well, Granny.”

“Ha! That will be the day.” The older woman creaked out of the chair, troubled by her rheumatism that strangely came on strong whenever it was convenient for her. “I'm just a poor, sick old lady, and—”

“Too bad. I cannot forgive what you did to Duncan, leaving him when he was so wounded, but I think I will be able to forgive you if you treat him with the respect that is due my husband for all the happy years of our marriage to come.”

“He's already had a bad influence on you.” Joshua's jaw was clenched so tight it was amazing he could squeeze out any words at all. “I intend to set this straight.”

“No, you will not. As far as I know, you two are the only ones who have realized Duncan's history, or at least been mean enough to bring up a very painful event in his life. You will remain silent, both of you, and never tell another living soul. Because he is not the only one in this house with secrets.”

Joshua went pale. “What do you mean?”

“I have been washing your clothes for a long while now. And yours, too, Granny. It's amazing what an innocent laundry lady comes across while checking the pockets of the garments before she washes them. All I'm going to say is this: if you want your secrets kept, then you'll keep Duncan's.”

“I have no secrets!” Joshua turned as red as a boiled beet.

“Oh, of course not. Let me just go tell Mama—”

“All right.” He stomped out, clearly not happy, pushing his way around the table to the refuge of the parlor's hearth.

“I suppose you don't have any secrets, either, right, Granny?”

Grandmother Gable took a long cool look at the big man who'd just came in from the cold. Duncan Hennessey was all man, handsome and strong and noble, and there was no mistaking it. Or the love that warmed his dark gaze when he looked upon his lady love.

“He's at least good-looking,” Granny conceded. “A man is such trouble and a bane to a woman's existence, he ought to at least be pleasing to the eye.”

“I'll take that as a congratulations on my upcoming wedding. Thanks, Granny.” Betsy pressed a kiss to her tough old grandma's cheek. “You'll like him, once you get to know him. I promise.”

The old woman grumbled something beneath her breath and reached into her skirt pocket for her tobacco.

Duncan.
His gaze collided with hers across the length of the kitchen, where kettles boiled and biscuits steamed and the gravy bubbled up, causing Mama to come rushing to the servant's aid. James and his wife had arrived, and Jordan was ambling down the stairs, yawning and groggy from his nap, the lazy bum, and joy filled her up like water in a cup, spilling over and over without end.

She walked into Duncan's arms, this man she would forever love, and wasn't surprised at all to feel their hearts were beating in synchrony. They took in breath at the same moment.

“We're going to live happily ever after now,” she told him. “All you have to do is believe.”

“I already do.” He took her hand and sealed his words with an everlasting kiss.