Scandal at the Cahill Saloon - By Carol Arens Page 0,42
Dogs lay in the shade panting while, from one end of town to the other, folks grumbled.
Cleve paced behind Leanna’s house, the house he would be moving into tonight. His jacket hung on a tree limb so that it wouldn’t be soaked with sweat the way his shirt was. With the ceremony only moments away, he wanted to look presentable for his bride. He couldn’t give her much, but he could give her a decent appearance.
He longed to take a dip in the stream, but walking beside it would have to do.
A movement from Leanna’s bedroom window caught his attention. Cassie carried something frothy and cream-colored across his line of sight. Leanna’s wedding veil.
Exclamations of feminine delight floated down to him.
In the seven days since Leanna had accepted his proposal, he had asked himself the same question a hundred times.
The argument always went: Was he doing the right thing? He didn’t know, but he was doing the best thing. Were his motives for giving his bride less than she dreamed of good enough? It was her own son, more or less, that he meant to protect by reciting the vows. That counted in his favor.
The last thing he had intended when he came to Cahill Crossing was to take a wife. He’d only wanted to take a child.
Wasn’t it better this way? He cared for Leanna too deeply to take the boy away, and little Cabe had never known another mother. Any other course of action would cause hearts to be broken beyond repair.
Cleve crouched down at the stream bank to let the water trickle around his fingers.
His internal argument always ended the same way. He was doing the only thing he could for the good of everyone, particularly himself. Cabe Cahill was his flesh and blood and he meant to raise him, no matter what.
As reasonable as his arguments were, one thing continued to plague him. In a few moments Leanna Cahill would become Leanna Holden, his flesh and blood as much as his nephew was.
Truth was the one thing his bride had asked of him. He should have given her that from the first moment she asked it, but he had been a coward. Had he told her then who he was and why he’d come to Cahill Crossing, the odds were heavy that she would not have married him.
The time might well come when she made that discovery.
He stood to lose everything if she did.
He wouldn’t think about that now because when he’d told Leanna that he might be able to love her, it hadn’t been idle words to get her to say yes. Quite honestly, he was halfway there now. His admiration of her had settled deep in his heart.
From this day forward, his life would never be the same. Whether he loved his wife or not, the world would be a cold place without her.
“Mr. Holden, may I have a word?”
“Dorothy,” he said, standing and shaking the water from his fingertips. “That wedding feast you’ve been working on smells fit for President Chester Arthur.”
“Don’t try and flatter me out of what I’ve come to say.”
“That wasn’t flattery. Just the plain truth.”
“Be that as it may, Cleve Holden, I’ve a thing or two to say.”
“Words of advice for a nervous groom?”
“Words of warning, more like.” Dorothy wiped the perspiration from her brow with the back of her hand. “Miss Leanna doesn’t have her mama here to speak for her so I’m doing it.”
“I’m glad you are.”
“Well, we’ll see about that. I hear her speaking to her mama at night so I know what’s in her heart. She wants to be loved, more than most anything. Poor thing can’t see how that will ever happen, though. She talks to her mama about you. She’s marrying you but she wouldn’t be if it weren’t for her child—that’s not what she says, just what I think. A woman, especially that one, ought to have what she wants.”
“I’ll make her as happy as I know how.” He promised this to himself as well as to Dorothy.
“I told her she ought to marry you, true love or not. I even said that her mama would want that. Don’t make me sorry.” Dorothy’s mouth set in a firm line, her arms crossed over the bodice of her respectable gray gown, made fancy for the ceremony by a wilted flower pinned to the collar.
“I intend to make Leanna the envy of Cahill Crossing.”
“I hope that’s enough.”
“It had better be.” Bowie’s voice came from