This Calder Range (Calder Saga 1)

“It had better be a big one.” Lorna smiled.

He tucked a hand under her elbow and turned her to face the Stanton wagon. “Lorna, I’d like you to meet Ely Stanton and his wife, Mary. They’ll be traveling with us part of the way.” Then he reversed the introductions. “This is my fiancée, Lorna Pearce, and her mother, Mrs. Clara Pearce.”

Benteen was too busy watching Lorna to notice how subdued Mary Stanton was during the exchange of greetings.

“You didn’t mention there would be another couple traveling with you and Lorna,” Clara Pearce remarked, pleased by the turn of events.

“The decision was recent,” he admitted. “But I thought Lorna might like the company of another woman for part of the journey. When Ely mentioned his plans, I asked them to travel with us.”

“I’m glad you did.” The idea that she’d have another woman to talk to made Lorna feel just that much easier about this trip they were undertaking.

Her mother shared that relief for a different reason. Although she was confident Benteen would look out for Lorna, she had been worried about her daughter being the only woman in a campful of men—drinking, carousing cowboys. She’d heard about their wild sprees on a town, the bloody fights, the shooting, and the womanizing. A lady wasn’t safe on the streets of Fort Worth at night—some streets at least. Her husband had insisted there was no cause for concern, but Clara hadn’t been so sure. Now, with another respectable woman along, Lorna wouldn’t be alone.

Lorna turned to smile at the woman on the wagon seat. “I’m going to look forward to us getting acquainted.” She paused an instant and asked, “May I call you Mary?”

“Please do,” Mary Stanton murmured, and measured her with a veiled look, taking note of the white skin, always protected from the damaging rays of the sun, and the white gloves that covered smooth hands.

Having been raised one of a brood of farmer’s children, Mary Stanton knew all about hard work and hard living. She was a good, God-fearing woman. She bowed her head to no man, but there were members of her own sex that made her feel self-conscious about her lack of education and refined manners. Lorna Pearce was one of those. So her feelings toward the young woman were ambivalent. On the one hand, Mary pitied the girl’s ignorance of the hardships ahead of her, and on the other, she envied her ladylike airs, cultured speech, and unblemished looks. Which explained the silence of her tongue. She didn’t want Lorna to discover she wasn’t her equal.

“Your father said you needed to speak to me this afternoon.” Benteen reminded Lorna of the message he’d received.

“Yes. Reverend Matthews wants to meet with us tomorrow morning at the church.” The demure curve of her lips seemed somehow provocative. “I think he intends to lecture us on the sanctity of marriage and our respective duties.”

“Is it necessary?” Benteen breathed heavily, irritated because there were so many other things essential to their departure that needed to be done.

“Chase Benteen Calder, you are going to be there,” she stated. “The reverend is half-convinced that I’m marrying a heathen. If you don’t come tomorrow, he’s liable to refuse to perform the marriage ceremony.”

“Good.” His smile mocked hers. “Then I’ll just carry you off and he’ll have to marry us to make an honest woman out of you.”

A faint blush heightened the color in her cheeks. “That isn’t amusing,” Lorna protested, but there was a sparkle of humor in her eyes.

“I’d let him ‘save’ me in the process,” Benteen assured her, and felt the rush of heat through his veins when she laughed in spite of her attempt to appear so proper and devout. God, how he wanted her.

“I’ll meet you at the church tomorrow morning at ten o’clock,” Lorna replied, and laid her gloved hand on his arm, an acceptable display of public affection. “Mother and I have to go. There’s still a thousand and one things that have to be done before the wedding.” She politely included the couple on the wagon in her farewell. “It was a pleasure meeting both of you. And I look forward to seeing you again, Mary.”

It was getting harder to let Lorna leave his side. Benteen struggled with the longings that burned inside as he watched her walk away with her mother. The need to possess her totally—to bind her to his side—was gaining strength with each passing minute that brought the hour of their marriage closer.

“Your lady is a very lovely girl,” Ely Stanton remarked, also watching Lorna with respectful admiration. He didn’t notice the hurt that flickered in his wife’s expression at his choice of words and the attention he was exhibiting to another woman.

Benteen pulled himself together and dragged his gaze away from Lorna’s figure and the tantalizing sway of her long skirt. He took pride in Stanton’s compliment of Lorna.

“Yes, she’s very beautiful,” he agreed.

“But will she be when the sun and the wind get through with her?” Mary Stanton challenged briskly. “Forgive me, Mr. Calder, but I don’t think you have considered how difficult it’s going to be for someone with your bride’s background. She’s used to … soft things.”

“Lorna is strong. She can take it.” Benteen stiffened at her questioning his judgment and Lorna’s character.

“Mary didn’t mean anything by it,” Ely apologized for his wife and elbowed her to keep quiet. She closed her mouth tightly, irritated with men, who thought they were the only ones who knew anything.

“I understand, Ely,” Benteen murmured with a cool look. The man had his hands full keeping his wife in line, so he left it to Ely to straighten her out. Benteen wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of Lorna spending very much time with Mary Stanton. It might turn out to be a mistake. “I’ve got to go look at that wagon. See ya in a couple of days,” Benteen said, and took his leave of the couple to inspect the wagon behind the livery stable.

In the millinery shop, Lorna stood in front of the mirror, turning her head this way and that to admire the lace veil and its cluster of white beads to conceal the combs securing it to her hair. She loved the contrast of the white lace on the sable brown of her hair. It made her feel absolutely stunning. She couldn’t resist preening a little, even if it was being vain.

“Sue Ellen, isn’t it just too beautiful for words,” she murmured excitedly to her friend. “I know I should take it off before something happens to it, but …” She breathed in, expressing her reluctance with a negative shake of her head.

“Just imagine what it’s going to look like with your wedding gown.” Sue Ellen couldn’t help being a little envious of Lorna’s natural beauty. While she, herself, wasn’t exactly homely, she lacked the vividness of Lorna’s personality. She always felt drab in comparison.

“I can hardly wait until Benteen sees me in my wedding outfit,” Lorna declared with a quick turn to her friend. “Just think, Sue Ellen. In a couple more days, I’ll be Mrs