Lucky Bride. Ana Seymour
and string tie. His boots were polished and the hat he held in his hand would have set most cowboys back three months’ pay.
Molly straightened at his approach. “I don’t mean to be rude, Jeremy, but if Smokey asked you to wait downstairs, you should have done so.”
Parker felt oddly proud to hear her stand up to him. The man was obviously not used to following orders. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his head, he sat upright in the bed. He didn’t want to be flat on his back when he made Jeremy Dickerson’s acquaintance.
Dickerson smiled at Molly. Both his straight black hair and black mustache were neatly trimmed. In spite of riding from somewhere through fields of new snow, he had not a hair out of place. “Forgive my eagerness to see you, my dear,” he said to her. She did not flush as she had when Parker had smiled at her earlier.
“It’s no matter,” she muttered.
Dickerson strode over to the bed and stared at Parker, then addressed Molly as if he were some sort of dumb animal. “ Where’d he come from? And why have you got him here in Charlie’s room?”
Parker couldn’t tell if Molly was irritated by the tone of authority. She was not bristling as she had upon occasion with Parker himself. She answered evenly, “He’s our new hand, and he’s recovering from frostbite.”
Jeremy looked down his nose. “He looks healthy enough to me.”
Hoping he wouldn’t be sick, Parker leaned forward and extended his hand. “Parker Prescott,” he said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Dickerson looked taken aback by Parker’s move, but he recovered and halfheartedly shook his hand. Then he turned back to Molly. “I don’t like the idea of a stranger staying here in the house with you girls. It’s not the same as when your father was under the same roof to protect you.”
Now there was a definite bristle in the set of Molly’s shoulders. She ignored his comment, but stayed calm as she said, “Why don’t we go on downstairs and have some hot coffee, Jeremy?” She started moving toward the door. “I can’t believe you came here through all this snow.”
“I just wanted to be sure everything was all right….”
Dickerson followed Molly out the door, and Parker said to his back, “Nice to meet you, too.”
Susannah giggled and stuck her tongue out at the retreating pair.
“Who was that charming fellow?” Parker asked.
Susannah’s expression grew sober. “That charming fellow,” she said, “is my future brother-in-law.”
Parker’s dark eyebrows shot up. “He’s engaged to your sister?”
“Well, not exactly. But he expects to marry her. The Dickerson ranch adjoins ours, and it’s something our pa always talked about with Jeremy’s pa, Hiram.”
Parker sank back into his pillow. He’d been holding himself up with his arms and they were starting to quiver. It was amazing how weak a man could grow in just a couple of days. He couldn’t say why the news that Molly Hanks had a serious suitor seemed so astounding, but it did. “We are talking about Molly?” he asked Susannah.
“Molly’s the one he wants, all right. You see, even though Papa left the Lucky Stars to the three of us, Molly is—how do they say it legally?—executor of the property, even if Mary Beth and I get husbands of our own, which isn’t likely the way she greets every man coming within a mile of the place with that rifle of hers.”
“It’s an impressive weapon.”
Susannah grinned at him. “Didn’t scare you off, though, did it?”
Parker relaxed and enjoyed the sheer pleasure of watching her smile. “It would take something mighty powerful to warn me off a lady as pretty as you, Susannah. Though if your father had been behind the barrel, I might have had to think it twice.”
Susannah’s expression became thoughtful. “Well, now, there you go. I guess what Molly says is true.”
“What’s that?”
“That the only things men take seriously are other men. They won’t believe a woman is ever a threat.”
“I didn’t mean—” Parker began in apology, but Susannah interrupted him.
“I can assure you, Parker, if Molly had thought you represented a danger to us, she’d be fully capable of sending a ball spinning right through your middle.”
Her smile had faded, and Parker realized that, while she was not as tough as her older sister, there was a little more than spun sugar to Susannah herself.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered sincerely.
Susannah smiled again. “Not that Molly’s ever actually shot anyone, you understand. I just know that she’d do it if the moment came. Molly always does what has to be done, no matter what.”
“An admirable quality.”
She gave a pretty little shrug. “I guess. But that’s enough about Molly.” She flounced down on the side of the bed. “You’re not too tired, Parker? Do you want me to stay awhile?”
He reached for one of her slender hands. “I’d be honored, Mistress Hanks,” he said with exaggerated reverence.
Susannah giggled and gave a little bounce on the bed. “Oh, Parker, it’s been gloomy and dull around here since Papa died. I’m so very glad you’ve come.”
By the next day Parker had recovered sufficiently to leave his bed, at least to take care of the most urgent of his personal needs. Once he had regained consciousness, it had at times been agony awaiting the appearance of Smokey so that he could ask for help in using the night jar that sat discreetly tucked under Mr. Hanks’s carved washstand. But he’d be darned if he was going to start his stay on the Lucky Stars by involving any of its three owners in such matters.
He’d spent a few moments musing over what he’d do if Smokey rode off somewhere for several hours. Asking Mary Beth was out of the question. She hadn’t ventured within five feet of the bed, and mostly watched him as if he had arrived from another planet. Although the few times she did send a shy smile his way, it had been mighty sweet.
He’d have to choose between Molly and Susannah. He reckoned Molly would be downright belligerent about having to deal with such intimacies. On the other hand, Susannah, even though she was what his mother used to call “a decent girl,” gave the impression that she would be willing to get that intimate and more, if he led the way. As he lay helpless on his back, he wasn’t sure which scared him more.
Fortunately, it never came to the test. He was up and around, still dressed only in an old nightshirt of their father’s that Molly had pulled out of the big mahogany wardrobe and given to him without comment.
Susannah poked her head in the door. “You’re walking!”
“Like a hundred-year-old man,” Parker said with a scowl. “I can’t seem to get my strength back.”
“You were very ill, Parker. Give yourself a little time.” She crossed the room and pulled his arm through one of hers. “Lean on me. We’ll take a stroll.”
With Susannah supporting him, they slowly walked to the end of the narrow upstairs hall. Parker looked down to watch his unsteady footing as they made their way along the Persian runner that covered the center of the polished wood floor. It was an elegant carpet, darkly patterned, that suited the dark wood of the paneled walls. Parker wished his sister could be here to see this house. It might change her opinion of the Wild West. She’d seen only two homes in her short stay in the Black Hills—his