The Colorado Bride
“Who’s he named for?”
“His full name is Mackenzie Sinclair.”
“Mackenzie,” Cole repeated, testing the sound of the name. “Where’d you get that name?”
Lily had chosen it. She’d never said why, but she’d wanted her child if it was a boy to bear the name. “I just liked it.”
“That was my grandfather’s name. Ma spoke of him from time to time. She’d always said if he’d lived her life would have been so different.”
Rebecca held her breath. For a moment they stood in silence before she said, “Where did you learn to dance?” hoping to shift the conversation.
“You don’t grow up in saloons without learning a thing or two about dancing.”
“Was it awful growing up there?” She’d spoken before she’d thought. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”
Cole shrugged. “Don’t be sorry. My childhood wasn’t the best, but my ma loved me in her way.”
“I never knew my mother. She died when I was a baby. It was always father and me.”
“Your father was a good man. He treated me fairly. In fact, he was fixing to promote me if I hadn’t gotten into that scrape with Stan.”
“Father was going to promote you?”
“Surprised?”
“He just never talked to me about business. Of course, I doubt I’d have been very interested. I was very silly then.”
“You laughed a lot then.”
Before she could speak the music started again. This time the tune was slow and melodic, the kind reserved for married folks.
“Perhaps, we’d better sit this one out,” she said.
“Not just yet.”
Cole pulled Rebecca close. Her breasts brushed his chest. Her senses on alert, she tried to move away, but he held her prisoner as he guided their bodies in time with the music.
“This isn’t proper,” she said.
“Stop worrying.”
The heat of his body had a drugging effect. Slowly, she stopped resisting him and succumbed to the urge to lay her head against his chest.
His thigh grazed hers as the music drifted over their heads. Her hand rested on his muscular arm. Sandalwood mingled with his masculine scent. She found herself wondering what it would feel like to surrender to him—if only for one night.
Then the music stopped. She realized she was shamelessly clinging to him. And many people stared at them.
Rebecca pulled free of Cole’s embrace. How could she have let him hold her so close? “I’d better go,” she stammered.
“I’ll walk you back.”
Cole escorted her back to Mrs. Applegate and the other ladies who stopped whispering when the two approached. Mac sat on the ground in front of them content to play with his sticks.
“Thank you.”
“Two dances in a row,” Mrs. Applegate beamed. “Why, folks are gonna start talking about you two.”
Rebecca felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She dared not look at Cole. “They’re just remembering the last man I danced with and the disastrous effect he had on my life.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Applegate said. “We were just saying what a lovely couple you two make.”
Rebecca stared at Mrs. Applegate. “You were?”
“Yes, we were.”
Prudence giggled. “Well, it is only natural.”
The blood drained from Rebecca’s face. “I don’t understand, Prudence.”
“Well, seeing that Cole’s going to buy the mine.”
Stillness came over Rebecca. She looked at Cole. “I’ll never sell the mine to you.”
Cole’s jaw tensed. “You owe a lot of back taxes.”
She clenched her fingers, her back ramrod straight. “No one would ever force me to pay the taxes. Everyone knows I will open the mine one day.” She looked at Mrs. Applegate for support.
“That’s for the men on the town council to decide,” the other woman said.
Rebecca rocked back on her heels. “Which is a polite way of saying they’d sell the mine from underneath me.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Applegate said stiffly.
Rebecca took a step back. “My father built this town. If it weren’t for him, there’d be no White Stone. How can you do this to me?”
Prudence stepped forward, pursing her lips. “Rebecca, this town is dying.”
Rebecca watched the ladies nod their agreement. The mine was her only legacy from her father. “I won’t allow this!”
Mrs. Applegate frowned. “It’s time you stop being selfish and start being realistic. If the town doesn’t foreclose and sell to Cole, there won’t be a town in two years. You’ve had opportunities to sell and you could have married at any time, but you’ve turned down every eligible man who’s tried to court you. Well, you and this town have run out of options. If Cole doesn’t get that mine open, we’re all doomed.”
Mrs. Applegate’s words stung, but Rebecca raised her trembling chin. “Mr. McGuire is unreliable! You’ve all said so yourself.”
“That argument is getting old, Rebecca,” Cole said behind her.
Fists clenched, she turned on him. “Do you know how much money they are talking about?”
“Yes.”
“You couldn’t possibly have enough.”
“I do.”
She looked around at the crowd that had gathered. Gene Applegate. Stan Farthing. Ernie Wade. None looked surprised. “You all knew.”
Wade pulled off his hat. “The council voted to sell Cole the mine an hour ago. We was gonna tell you tomorrow.”
She picked up Mac. “How could you do this to me, Ernie?”
“It’s for the best,” he said.
“I thought you were my friend.”
“I am.”
She whirled away from Wade to address the crowd that had gathered. “We don’t even know Cole McGuire.”
Cole laid his hand on her shoulder. “After I buy the mine, you and I will have all the time in the world to get acquainted.”
Chapter Ten
An hour later, couples square-danced, the men had set up the targets for the shooting contest and the children played kick ball.
Rebecca sat on her quilted blanket under the shade of a tree. Mac lay on his stomach asleep by her side. She’d have left the picnic but Dusty had begged her to stay another hour. He’d looked so happy, she couldn’t deny him. He’d gone off with Prudence’s son, Jared, to look at the horses in the livery.
Cole had kept his distance, spending most of his time dancing. The women in town, bedazzled by his transformation, had flocked. Each had taken a turn dancing with him. And to Rebecca’s annoyance, it stirred jealous feelings.
Everyone was having a wonderful time.
Except Rebecca.
She felt utterly alone, betrayed by the friends whom she’d known the better part of her life. Five days ago, she’d have bet everything that they’d never side with Cole. And she’d have been dead wrong.
Now that they’d struck a deal with Cole, what would stop someone from telling him about Mac? It was a matter of time before the entire truth tumbled out.
A dark shadow fell on her. She looked up to see Cole. He held a plate with two slices of cake. “Can I sit down?”
“No.”
Cole sat down next to her and stretched out his long legs over her blanket. “I brought you a peace offering.”
“Go away.”
Unruffled, he set the plate down. “Have some cake.”
“Ernie wouldn’t like it.”
Laughter sparkled in Cole’s eyes. “He’s not been near you for the last hour. I think you scared him off.”
“I have not.”
An awkward silence fell between them and for a time they sat not saying a word. “No one in town wants to see you unhappy. And they wouldn’t have sold me the mine if they weren’t scared for their own livelihood.”
He was right. But that didn’t erase her fear.
Cole laid his hand on Mac’s bottom and watched the gentl
e rise and fall of the boy’s back. He stared at the child for a long moment before he said, “You’re lucky to have him.”
“I know.” She choked back tears.
Cole plucked a blade of grass then tossed it aside. “Why don’t you trust me? Is my past so awful to you?”
She’d held herself in reserve since the moment they’d met. He knew it and it was becoming a sore point with him. “No.”
He was silent, as if mustering patience. “Then don’t you think it’s time we called a truce?”