A Man with a Past by Mary Connealy
THIRTY-SEVEN
I’m a married man.” Falcon was having a hard time not just beaming down at Cheyenne as they rode back to the RHR.
The prisoners were locked up tight. Sheriff Corly was satisfied with Cheyenne’s story, backed up by Falcon and Amelia. And Jeff Wells had confessed to everything, as a man who’d just gotten in on a plot in recent days often does. He’d pointed the finger at his cell mate and named off a few other traitors. None on the RHR, but a few on the other ranches. It sounded like half the men on the Hawkins Ranch were in on this. Oliver Hawkins was a poor judge of cowhands.
Sonny Bender was mad as a rabid polecat. They had to move Wells to the second cell in fear for his life. Both Bender and Wells denied shooting Wyatt. That left Mathers and Ralston. The sheriff decided to blame them since no one could prove otherwise.
Amelia had sent her wire home. The sheriff said she and Rachel could catch the train to Minnesota when it came through, and then Oliver Hawkins showed up and threw everything into chaos.
Finally, Oliver went along with the posse to arrest a bunch of his hands while the deputy stayed to watch the prisoners.
Enough men came around to join the posse that they were able to hold a trial right off, and the sheriff sent a wire to get a transport to take the men they rounded up to Laramie for the hanging.
And tucked into all of that, Falcon had married the most beautiful, smartest, toughest woman he’d ever heard tell of.
“We need a cabin.” Falcon found himself wanting time alone with his wife. He wanted it something fierce.
“I’ve got to make sure Wyatt is all right, b-but—” Cheyenne looked at him. She was deeply tanned, but under it she was blushing.
“But what?” He thought he knew. He might’ve felt a little heat in his own face.
“Well, it’s just, well, it seems to me . . . it’s . . .” In a rush she said, “You can stay in my room. With me.”
She blinked at him. Those black eyes almost burning into his. The color running high under her tan.
“I don’t want to do that. Stay in that house with folks all over everywhere.”
“There’s really only two. Wyatt and Molly.”
“That’s two too many.”
“Haven’t you been sleeping in the bunkhouse?”
“Yep, and we’re not staying there.” They rode in silence for a while. He said, “We could camp out?”
Cheyenne didn’t answer right away. “Do you think we’ve caught everyone who was trying to kill us?”
“Stands to reason Norm shot Wyatt, but there’s no proof of that. If it wasn’t him, it was Bender, I suppose. No surprise he’d blame it on someone else. It wasn’t Rachel, like we thought, nor Ralston, nor Amelia.”
Cheyenne reached from her horse to his. “I don’t feel like I can go off just yet. Not until I’m sure Wyatt’s all right. I suspect I’ll spend the night tending to him, so we won’t have what you’d think of as a proper wedding night.”
Her hand tightened on his arm until he flinched. Then she turned those beautiful black eyes on him. “But if I do get a few hours’ sleep, I’d like to have you beside me, Falcon. Can you please stay in the house with me?”
“There ain’t much I’d say no to you about, Mrs. Hunt.”
“I’m a Hunt.” Cheyenne shook her head almost violently. “Well, at least it’s only by a roundabout way that it’s because of Clovis.”
Falcon laughed. He shifted so she was torn loose of his arm, and he held her hand as they rode along.
“I’m a man who’s never had much family, Cheyenne. My ma and me alone until I was barely old enough to fend for myself in the wilderness. Then once I was growed up, Patsy for a short while. But more than anything, I’ve lived my life alone.”
She squeezed his hand tight.
“For a time, I didn’t even have a past I could remember. But now, I’m a man with a past, and a future with you. More important, I’ve got right now. I believe myself to be the luckiest, most blessed man alive to be mixed up in the Hunt clan.”
“Losing my ranch, losing what I saw as my future, led me to you, or better to say led you to me.” She looked at him, enjoying those brown eyes streaked with gold.
“People fail, Cheyenne. All people fail, that’s why we need a Savior. That’s why we need forgiveness. I reckon we’ll both need forgiveness many times before we’re done with this life.” He nodded silently, a tiny movement, thinking it all over. “But we’ll both try and remember to trust.”
They rode on. Hands joined, heading home.
“We need to try and reason out when my ma died. So we can make right what Clovis made wrong with that thievin’ will. My past is a little murky.”
“We’ll get to it, Falcon. We’ll get to everything. But for these few blessed minutes while we’re headed home alone, to a hurting brother and the confusion of our unexpected family, let’s just enjoy the ride.”
He bent across from his horse to hers and kissed her.
She returned the kiss, then smiled. Her eyes twinkled. “I’ve never ridden a horse holding hands before, and I’ve sure as certain never been kissed while I was riding.”
“Neither have I, but I think I could learn to like it.”
They rode on.
Falcon wondered if their troubles were finally at an end.
He wondered if they’d ever know who shot Wyatt.
He wondered if he owned a third of a ranch or nuthin’.
But he didn’t wonder about love. He had Cheyenne.