The Jewel: The Malloy Family, Book 11 Read online

  “The fort owns it. It ain’t been lived in permanent as far as I know. Why?” Mr. Johnson’s scowl returned.

  “We’d like to buy it and make it bigger. Settle there for the winter at least. We can pay for the materials and labor.” Mason watched the other man’s reaction. Greed. How unsurprising. “And my wife can provide some services as a healer while we’re here.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so? Since Drummond left, we ain’t had anyone here to doctor folks. I can broker a deal for the cabin, and we can get started making it bigger.”

  “Wait.” Isabelle turned to look at Mason, her expression full of hope. “After we get married on the wagon, we should use the wood from it on the cabin. My parents can be a part of our lives and protect us through the winter.”

  Mason wasn’t one to be emotional, but her idea moved him. He’d not known what love was, or how parents should behave, until he met the Chastains. Her idea both humbled and thrilled him.

  “That is the best idea I’ve ever heard.” He kissed her again. “That sound good to you, Mr. Johnson?”

  “Sounds good to me. You can buy whatever else you need at the store. I own it, so I know we got nails and such.” The mercantile owner rocked back on his heels, pleased with the outcome. He would make money and be a savior to have brought in a healer. There was no downside for Mr. Johnson. “Why don’t you folks get to your wagon and I’ll meet you there with the captain?”

  “Right away.” Mason led Isabelle out of the building and into sparkling sunshine. The clouds had been chased away by the bright orb in the sky and he could already see the snow had started to melt. It seemed the universe had decided it was time to give them more than a kick in the crotch.

  They now had hope.

  After a few days of planning, the wedding was finally here. The ceremony was simple, but it meant everything to Isabelle. They stood at the back of the wagon with the captain perched on a crate. He was a craggy man with a missing left eye and a lined face that had seen many days at sea and land.

  Charlie stood by, sullen and quiet. She said nothing about their plans, but merely shrugged. Isabelle knew it was the right decision and hoped in time so would her sister.

  A kind woman in the fort had found a few wildflowers beneath a bush that hadn’t been covered in snow. Isabelle clutched the small purple blooms and held back tears. This was the day she would become Mason’s wife, to be his forever. Standing in the wagon, she could almost smell Maman’s rosewater and Papa’s soap, their ghostly hands holding hers. They were with her in spirit, telling her silently she had made the right choice and the wagon that had given them shelter, an adventure, tragedy and ultimately, happiness, was filled once again with the love of a man and his wife.

  It was a perfect moment.

  Tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks as the captain pronounced them man and wife. Mason kissed her gently as though he were afraid she would break. She shook her head and hauled him by the shirt to her and kissed him with all the love in her heart.

  A few of the folks from the fort who had gathered out of curiosity hooted and clapped. Charlie stood beside Elijah, the two of them an unlikely pair who had apparently formed a bond. Isabelle was glad for her sister to have found a friend but sad that Charlie wasn’t happy for the marriage.

  The captain held out his hand with a loud “ahem”. Mason dug into his pocket and paid the man. The wedding was over and now life could begin anew.

  Isabelle had found where she belonged.

  The wedding celebration took place at makeshift tables in the fort where Elijah had cleared away the snow. People they didn’t know brought covered dishes and everyone enjoyed themselves. It seemed the good folks of Fort John had needed a reason to come together and find some joy in their lives.

  Mason was grateful they were welcomed into their midst. It was a far cry from what occurred with other settlements and the Beckers. That nightmare was behind them and their lives were beginning anew.

  Charlie flitted around the fort but didn’t stay in one place long. Mason usually saw her with Elijah, which was both good and bad. Good that she’d found someone she was comfortable with and bad that she ignored her sister.

  Isabelle was radiant in her yellow dress and parasol. She was exquisitely beautiful and now she was his wife. A lump formed in his throat at the thought he’d found someone to love him for who he was and not his family. His past was just that—the past.

  Mr. Johnson stepped up, a bit of the food stuck to his face, and clapped Mason on the back. “You’ve got a right pretty bride there, Bennett.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  “Lucky, lucky man.” Mr. Johnson shook his head. “Lookee here, there’s a fella up at the mercantile looking for work and a place to live. Says he knows you.”

  Mason’s happiness popped like a soap bubble, instant and abrupt. “You don’t say. What’s he look like?” His heart pounded and the specter of the Beckers rose up to claw at him.

  “Big fella, big enough to snap a man in two. So you see why I hesitated to hire him. I can’t have him scaring folks.” Mr. Johnson pointed toward the building. “There he is now.”

  Everything slowed, time turned sluggish as though Mason moved through honey. He looked in the direction Johnson pointed and there stood Gunther.

  The food Mason had eaten threatened to erupt from his stomach and spew all over the unsuspecting mercantile owner. Mason saw Isabelle chatting with a group of ladies, her back to where Gunther stood. Thank God.

  “Let me go talk to the man.” Mason heard himself say. He walked on wooden legs toward Gunther, grateful for the pistol he’d purchased, which now hung on his hip, loaded and ready. He’d only practiced a few times, but the use of it came back to him quickly. As a Southern gentlemen, he knew how to use all types of firearms and how to hunt for food. Ironically, his songbird wife was a better shot.

  His mind was a jumble of images and emotions, all of them whirling around as he approached the biggest Becker. Gunther’s face showed he’d been in a tussle with someone—a few bruises and cuts marked his chin and cheeks.

  By the time he reached Gunther, a sense of calm had taken over Mason’s panic. No matter what, they were safe at the fort. Mason had even been asked to take over security at the fort until Mr. Parker returned. Isabelle had seen at least two dozen patients in three days. They had a home, albeit a temporary one.

  He would not allow Gunther to take that away. No matter the price.

  “What do you want?” Mason kept his voice low, aware people were milling around the fort, eager for a piece of the celebration.

  Gunther shrugged, silent as always.

  “Where’s Karl and Catherine?” Mason glanced back to see Isabelle hadn’t moved, so she hadn’t seen Gunther yet.

  “Dead. All dead.” Gunther shook his head. “Karl killed Catherine because she killed Mam. The settlers hung him. They tried to hang me too, but I got away and came here.”

  It was the most words Mason had ever heard the man say. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  Gunther looked affronted. “I don’t lie. I never lie.”

  Mason couldn’t argue with that. The big man didn’t lie because he never spoke. “What are you doing here?”

  “I ain’t got nowhere else to go. My family is gone. You got one now. Maybe I can find one too.” Gunther’s gaze moved to Isabelle, and a poignant longing stole across his expression. “I don’t hurt her. I never hurt her. She’s an angel.”

  “That she is, and she’s my wife, do you understand that?”

  Gunther nodded his shaggy head.

  “If I tell Johnson to let you stay, you will give me your word you won’t hurt anyone again. What Camille and Karl did was wrong. You know that.”

  Another nod.

  “Isabelle and Charlie will be scared.”

  “I don’t want to sca
re them. I just want to find a home and be happy. Like you and the angel.” Gunther craved what most men did and Mason couldn’t fault him for it.

  “Then let’s get this over with.” Mason returned to the tables and to Isabelle’s side with the other man on his heels.

  Mason leaned in to whisper to his wife. “Don’t panic. He’s alone and he means no harm. He had nowhere else to go. He needs a job and a home.” She frowned and then turned to catch sight of Gunther. The color drained from her face and she swayed a bit. Mason slipped his arm around her and steadied her. “Karl and Catherine are dead.”

  Isabelle nodded with a jerk, the color returning to her cheeks. “Gunther. I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “I’m sorry if I scare you, angel.”

  Isabelle shook her head. “You didn’t scare me. I was surprised, that’s all.”

  “So you know him after all?” Johnson stepped up, chewing another bite of some kind of food. The man surely enjoyed his sustenance.

  Mason waited for Isabelle. This was her choice. Charlie walked up, her face chalk-white. Isabelle took her sister’s hand and squeezed it. She whispered into the young woman’s ear before she responded to Mr. Johnson’s question. Charlie gave Gunther a hard look before she darted off again.

  “Mr. Becker is an acquaintance. He’s a hard worker, Mr. Johnson.” Isabelle’s voice shook a smidge but her shoulders were straight and her confidence coming back.

  “Good, good, good. We need a big man around here for some heavy lifting.” Johnson smacked Gunther’s shoulder and then winced. The man was as hard as a boulder. “Maybe he can even help with your house.”

  “Everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone.” Isabelle held out her hand to Gunther. “Welcome to Fort John.”

  Gunther stared at her as though he’d never shaken hands before. He slowly took her delicate hand into his massive paw and shook it for a moment before dropping it. He shuffled off with Mr. Johnson as the mercantile owner spoke of grand plans for what he wanted the big man to do.

  Isabelle melted into Mason’s arms and he pulled her aside, walking toward the tiny shack. “I wanted to vomit when I saw him.”

  Mason chuckled. “I nearly did the same. Are you sure having him here won’t bother you?”

  “No, I meant what I said. Everyone deserves a second chance. Gunther isn’t a bad person, but Camille and Karl manipulated him into doing bad things. Here he has a chance to be a good person with an honest job.” She sniffed. “We’ll need to talk to Charlie. She was angry.”

  “When we find her, we’ll talk to her. Right now I want to make love to my wife.” Mason hoped no one would disturb them because he had a wedding to consummate.

  Isabelle kissed his cheek. “I can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon.”

  The late morning sun barely penetrated the gloom within the tiny cabin, lending it a private atmosphere. Most folks were still celebrating over in the main square, which gave them another level of aloneness.

  Isabelle was nervous, which was silly. She had already been intimate with Mason. She knew what to expect and how much pleasure there was to be had. Yet she quivered with anticipation. Now Mason was her husband. He had free rein to do with her as he pleased.

  She could hardly wait.

  He barred the door behind them and started unbuttoning his shirt. She licked her lips and watched as his chest was bared to her gaze. Unable to resist, she ran her hands up his belly to his shoulders. His warm skin felt wonderful against her chilled hands.

  “You have ice blocks for fingers.”

  She laughed. “Your nipples seem to like it.” She flicked the hardened nubs and he hissed in a breath.

  “When did you become a vixen?” He pulled her closer and nibbled her jaw. “I do like it.”

  She smiled as he continued along to her ear, licking at the lobe, until he made his way to her neck. Sensitive to the point of near pain, she contracted her neck, trapping his face between her shoulder and jaw.

  He chuckled against her skin. “Is your neck not allowed?”

  “Slowly. Really slowly.” She unlocked her tense body and he feathered her neck with small kisses, relaxing her and exciting her at the same time. “Oh, now I like it.”

  He laughed again. “I’m going to like it even more when I can taste the rest of you.”

  She wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, but she couldn’t wait either. He made quick work of her yellow dress, carefully placing it on the nail hanging from the wall. She stood in her chemise and pantalettes, her nipples so hard they ached.

  “You’re like a gift I can’t wait to unwrap.”

  “Then don’t wait a second longer.” She untied her chemise and let it fall to the floor, followed by the pantalettes. She stood only in her stockings and boots.

  “Lord have mercy, you are perfect.” His tone held such reverence, she blushed.

  “I’m just a woman.”

  “No, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re my woman, my wife, mine.” He dropped to his knees and took a nipple into his mouth. The sensation was indescribable, so very decadent. Her body pulsed with need, eager to experience making love with her husband. “And I am yours.”

  Her heart melted at the love in his voice. She held on to his head, the hair soft beneath her hands. When his fingers reached between her legs, she spread them, familiar with this particular pleasure.

  He suckled and laved her breasts, biting the aching peaks as his hand pleasured her core. She grew wet with excitement and arousal, her breathing reduced to quick bursts of much-needed oxygen.

  When his mouth replaced his hand and he sucked at her most intimate spot, Isabelle experienced the most powerful orgasm of her life. She flailed in his grasp as he continued to suck and lave her, prolonging the pleasure until stars danced in front of her eyes.

  A boneless heap, she would have collapsed if he hadn’t picked her up and laid her on the narrow cot.

  “The first thing we’re going to buy for the new house is a bed. A big one.”

  She laughed and waited in languidness while he undressed completely. This was the first time she’d seen his cock, and it was impressive. It stood straight from the thatch of dark hair and the ballocks that rested beneath. The rod pulsed, a glimmer of moisture at the tip.

  “I’m afraid I won’t have much finesse this time, my love. I find I am as ravenous as a green boy.” He crawled over her, his body heat enveloping her.

  “We have the rest of our lives to make love. Each time can be a taste or a full meal.” She opened her legs, eager to feel him inside her once more.

  He pressed the head of his cock against her entrance and paused. “I’m infinitely glad I let you seduce me already. If you were a virgin, I would have difficulty with restraint.”

  She pinched his behind. “I seduced you?” She urged him forward. “Come here, husband, and bring us both on a journey to pleasure.”

  “As you wish, my lady.” He slid into her to the hilt, filling her, completing her. She arched against him and he began to move, slowly then he picked up speed. His thrusts pushed his pelvis against her clitoris, driving her pleasure upwards with each stroke.

  The only sounds in the small cabin were their breathing and the squeak of the cot. Isabelle scratched at his back, her body winding up again, eager for another release. There would never be enough when it came to Mason. She would always want more.

  He suckled her nipple once more and the sensation drove her over the edge. She cried out his name, lost in the spiral of joyous abandon. He followed suit moments later, once again filling her with life.

  Exhausted and completely satiated, Isabelle pulled him close until his head rested beside hers, his cock still firmly embedded inside her. Isabelle kissed him and closed her eyes. This was paradise, heaven and utopia all rolled into one.

  This was home.

 
Epilogue

  The May sun shone down on them as they rode through the prairie. Isabelle and Mason rode in the newly purchased buckboard. Charlie took to riding horses as though she were born on one. Half the time she was a mile ahead of them and rode back to urge them to catch up.

  The winter had been hard, but not impossible. Their tiny shack had become a home for them. Isabelle hated to leave, but she needed to find her sisters. They left their belongings behind and only carried Josephine’s books and the rocking chair, along with what they’d need for the journey.

  They would return to Fort John and settle back into their life. The one thing missing was a baby, but Isabelle had faith they would one day have children. She had learned patience on the journey west and was not the same naïve young woman she’d been a year ago as they’d headed west from Missouri.

  A horse wrangler they met knew John and Frankie, and even knew Declan and Josephine. She told them where to find their ranch. If the horse wrangler had been correct, they would arrive at the Malloys today.

  Isabelle’s stomach quivered with anticipation. It had been so long since she’d seen her older sisters. She could only hope they were safe, happy and healthy.

  Charlie galloped toward them, her hair flying in the breeze as she hunkered over the neck of the horse. She pulled it to a stop, spraying dirt and gravel everywhere. Her hat hung on her neck from a leather strip, crooked and windblown.

  Her brown eyes sparkled. “I found them.”

  “Where?” Isabelle peered at the horizon but all she saw was a ridge.

  “Right beyond that ridge right there. There’s a house and a barn with some horses in a corral. I saw a few men outside, but I had to come back and tell you.” Charlie nearly bounced in the saddle. “I heard a baby crying.”

  Goosebumps raced down Isabelle’s spine. “Mason, we need to be there. Now.”

  “As you wish, my lady.” He snapped the traces on the horses’ rumps and the wagon picked up speed.

  It seemed like hours but was probably less than one before they reached the top of the ridge. Charlie rode alongside them, as though she were afraid to move ahead without Isabelle. Isabelle’s breath caught when she saw the ranch. It was nestled between two ridges with large sturdy buildings and beautiful horses.