Chapter 21

Lacey waited for Grady to bring the wagon around. She was wearing the same calico dress she'd had on this morning. She'd worn it so often, it was as soft as flannel. Dejected, she'd only bothered to wash her face, plait her hair into a single braid, and tie on a straw bonnet.

Grady looked completely wrong perched atop the rickety wagon. As she climbed aboard, Lacey could see the picnic basket, a checkered blanket, and a small bouquet of pink flowers in the wagon bed.

Give him a chance, she told herself. It wasn't but a few months ago that he was your hero. She glanced at his profile. Too groomed, she thought absurdly. Not long ago, he would have looked fine to her. She guessed that hanging around cowboys could change a woman's tastes for life. She had to admit, he was handsome. Only he didn't make her pulse quicken, not even a tiny bit. And he never had. If his brother were to come riding over now, dust-covered, sweat-soaked, with his hair at its shaggiest, her heart would set to racing.

"You look very pretty."

"Thank you," she said, feeling guilty now at not being more excited about the day ahead.

He prepared to snap the reins, and she placed a restraining hand atop his doeskin glove. "Not yet. Wait for Oliver." Oliver had stopped to sniff at something in the road. She snapped her fingers. "Come on, Oliver," she urged.

"You're not bringing that mangy beast with us on the picnic."

"I take Oliver wherever I go. You know that, Grady." This was not entirely true. She hadn't taken him with her on the round up. "What have you against him all of a sudden? You never complained when you arranged for his transport."

"I did it to please you." He cast her a sideways glance. "Do you have any idea, how much extra it cost me to send that massive animal to the states?" he groused. "There's no place for a dog like that here on the ranch."

"But Oliver loves it here. He follows Slade—"

Grady put his hand up to halt her speech. "I don't want to hear about it. We're leaving the animal here."

Now that their marriage was imminent, it seemed, pleasing her was no longer as important. "You'll have to go on your picnic alone then because I'm not leaving without Oliver." She swiveled on her seat ready to clamber down.

His hand wrapped around her wrist holding her fast. "Your father spoiled you, my dear, by giving you too much freedom. Not all men are like your father." She attempted to tug her wrist free. He heaved a frustrated sigh. "Fine, stay seated. I'll get the darn dog."

They rode in silence for most of the trip, and she was grateful. They rarely had anything to say to each other. She'd been so desperate to get away from Arthur Widstaff, she hadn't even considered Grady's feelings when she'd agreed to marry him. The whole thing had started as a business deal for Grady, and she happened to come along with the package. Perhaps he thought she'd make a presentable hostess. And her dowry had, of course, sweetened the deal.

She didn't think she had the fortitude to settle for a distant, loveless marriage like her mother had. It suddenly struck her, she wanted it all: a marriage, a home...and love. Maybe, she could convince him they'd been too hasty, that the engagement had been a mistake. And if he was glad for the reprieve, what then would she do with herself? Certainly, Slade had never suggested marriage. Could she live by her skill with the needle, she wondered?

She glanced back at Oliver, who had made himself comfortable atop the checkered blanket and was pillowing his head on the pink flowers. She knew enough of Grady to know he wouldn't be pleased with dog hairs all over his trousers.

They rolled along the dirt road, which traced the eastern perimeter of the ranch.

"Nothing but acres of grass, weeds, and cow dung," Grady said with obvious disgust.

"I think it's beautiful out here."

"It's easy to appreciate a place when you're just visiting." He laughed. "If you had to live here for years, you'd learn to despise it. There's nothing beautiful about it. Don't understand why Slade's even bothering with this place."

"This is his home."

"Too bad it took him ten long years to realize it," Grady responded with an odd smile. "Sometimes, you just can't get the time back," he added cryptically.

"'Tis a shame the fences fell into such disrepair. You might not have lost your cattle."

"What makes you think I didn't let them go on purpose?"

Lacey glanced at him, certain he was jesting, but his expression was serious.

"I never wanted to run this cattle business in the first place. I had other plans for my life. I didn't think Slade would ever be coming back. At least not alive."

He said the last so matter-of-factly, one would think he didn't have a heart.

"Didn't you feel some responsibility to Dora and Tait to keep the ranch going?"

"I did. Of course, I did," he insisted, but she wasn't convinced. "But once Slade joined up with the army, the whole blasted thing became my problem. It wasn't what I'd intended for myself. The Lazy Heart was my father's dream, not mine."

She remembered Slade explaining how he'd joined the army to escape the guilt of his father's death.

"Slade earned a captaincy a few years after enlisting." Grady offered the information, though she hadn't spoken. "Probably one of the youngest officers in the Union army." If she hadn't heard the way he'd said it, she might almost think he was bragging about his brother. But his tone was that of a man holding a hard-bitten grudge.

"There's never been any love lost between Slade and I. Everyone knows it."

Grady looked at her for a moment, seeming to scrutinize her face for a reaction. She could tell by the way he smoothed his mustache, a sign she'd come to read as irritation, that he was not pleased by what he saw. Was it possible, he had noticed her reactions to Slade and the obvious tension between them? He turned his profile to her again and flicked the reins, urging the horses to pick up their pace.

"Once we've settled in Boston, I'm never setting foot on this piece of property again."

"I've grown rather fond of Colorado," she said, hating how pitiful she sounded.

"Then you can grow fond of Massachusetts, as well."

Yes, she thought. She could grow fond of any place as long as Slade Dalton was at her side. "But the Lazy Heart—"

"It's useless to discuss the ranch any further. It's a lost cause." Grady reached down and patted her on the knee. Lacey stiffened. "Dora went to an awful lot of trouble. Let's enjoy the beautiful day."

Lacey looked toward the graying horizon. "Looks like it could rain," she said darkly. She was starting to feel as though she would be attending a funeral and not a picnic.

"A little summer shower. That's all. Besides, we're nearly at the creek. I think that's where we'll set down our blanket."

Lacey felt like crying when she saw how much trouble Dora had gone to for this outing. There were bowls of fried chicken, plates of deviled eggs, and molasses cookies the size of a person's fist. Lacey had to force herself to take even the tiniest nibble.

Grady was lying on his side atop the blanket eating a drumstick. Though he pulled his lips back a bit to avoid getting grease on his mustache, he still patted his mouth after every bite.

"Dora's told me about your wedding dress. Sounds like you've gone to an awful lot of trouble. I wish you'd purchased a ready-to-wear. We'd be married much sooner if you had."

And that, Lacey thought, was exactly why she hadn't.

"Besides, the rustics in this town wouldn't recognize a stylish gown if they saw one," he added in a scornful tone.

"A woman wants to wear something special on her big day. The shop in town had a sad selection of cast-off gowns."

She peeled off pieces of chicken and fed them to Oliver. Grady wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"I still have some beadwork to complete, and Dora has to help me with the hem. It may take me a few more weeks to finish."

"I'm prepared to give you a week," he said with finality. The pleading words died on her tongue.

Lacey chided herself for a coward. This was probably the perfect opportunity to break off the engagement. But she still struggled with the fear of being cast out. Stuck in the middle of the Colorado Territory with no family and no funds. She needed to come up with a sensible plan. A way to get out of this whole situation without ending up destitute.

Grady filled a small glass jar with elderberry wine and offered it to her. She took a sip, but she didn't think the wine would relieve the hollowness in her stomach.

Grady stretched himself out. He rested his derby on his chest and stacked his hands behind his head. He looked contented, and, thankfully, no longer in the mood to talk.

Lacey smiled to herself. She was actually imagining that she heard the men pounding down posts in the near distance. Dix had mentioned they would be working the fencing near the creek. At the time, she'd thought he'd only said it to taunt Grady.

She supposed she wanted to imagine Slade following her here, jealous of her spending time alone with Grady. A silly thought. She was sure she'd completely imagined that the tone he'd used, when he told her to have a good time, was his ominously calm one. The one he used when he was truly angry.

The phantom sound of hammering continued to echo in her head. She recalled the last few times he'd gone out to the grazing pastures when he'd asked her to ride along. She certainly couldn't have been much help to him, she'd done little more than fetch him tools.

Trickles of cool rain brought her out of her reverie. "Maybe we should head back." she said with a bit too much enthusiasm. "Some of those clouds look fairly threatening."

"I suppose you're right," Grady said reluctantly.

He savored the last of the wine in his glass as Lacey tucked the leftovers back into the basket.

With the first crack of lightning, Oliver decided it was the perfect time to dash through the stream to chase a squirrel on the other side. Lacey called to him. He didn't even look back. Oliver found birds and squirrels infinitely fascinating. Fortunately, for the creatures, he was far too slow to ever catch one. Even if he were lucky enough to come face to face with his prey, he'd probably only give it a few nuzzles with his nose.

"Well-trained animal," Grady said in his most refined, sarcastic drawl.

Lacey leapt up, lifted her skirts above her ankles and raced after him. At the bank of the creek, her feet slipped, and she nearly slid down the muddy slope. She used a tree root for support and lowered herself to the creek, stepping gingerly on a rock at the water's edge. There was a convenient path of stones she could balance on to make it to the other side. If she was careful, she wouldn't even get her dress wet. Although, with the rain beating steadily on her shoulders, what difference would it make if she got her hem soaked?

Her normally lethargic hound had a surprising amount of energy today. The dog was loping across a field, and the squirrel was losing ground.

"Leave him. He'll find his way home," Grady hollered across the creek. "Everything is getting soaked, Lacey."

The pleasant summer shower Grady had reassured her of was quickly becoming a torrential rain. Runnels of water were flowing off the brim of her hat. She watched as the squirrel scurried to safety up a tree. Oliver thoroughly snuffled around the base of the trunk.

"Get over here, you naughty dog," she said. He gave the tree one more whiff before bounding back to her. He waited until he was right beside her before shaking the water off his fur.

"Oh, Oliver, you silly hound." She took hold of his collar and started leading him back.

"Lacey, dammit, hurry! The creek is rising!"

Lacey's rock path had been completely submerged in water. As she surveyed the creek, trying to figure out how to cross, Oliver pulled out of her grasp and leaped in. He easily padded across. The water now reached his shoulders.

She seemed to have no choice. She'd have to wade through the water. In order to see better, Lacey tossed aside her ruined bonnet. Her feet sunk into the mud, making it impossible to move quickly. The weight of her waterlogged skirts didn't help.

She pulled herself up on a partially submerged fallen tree trunk. With care, she pushed herself to a standing position. She took small tottering steps using her arms for balance. The dark water was moving rapidly downstream and looked suddenly treacherous. Panic ripped through her as she looked helplessly across to Grady. He seemed more angry than worried.

"What are you waiting for? Come across."

"I-I c-can't," she stammered. "I can't swim. I'm frightened."

"Don't be ridiculous. You won't drown. Just watch your step." Somehow, his words did not provide even an ounce of reassurance. Grady stood there with an outstretched hand, but he had not made a move to cross the creek to help her.

Lacey could feel the blood draining from her face, and she shivered from cold and fear. Terror gripped her, and she couldn't take another step. She could feel the turbulent water now rising above her ankles. Oliver stood on the shore barking wildly.

Grady looked furiously down at his new boots, now covered in black sludge. He bent over to try and yank one off, but the wetness made it a difficult task.

"Hell, Lacey, do you realize how much I paid for these rattle skin boots? They're ruined. All because you were too stubborn to listen."

Lacey was starting to feel lightheaded and Grady's tirade wasn't helping. Watching Grady struggling to pull off his precious boots, it occurred to her that this predicament was a solution to all her troubles. She would simply jump into the water and let it sweep her downstream and away from the Lazy Heart. Maybe, she'd even get lucky and knock herself senseless on a rock on the way down. She'd wake not remembering any of this.

Then she saw him. He was coming over the hill on foot. He carried a mallet in his hand. He'd probably heard Oliver's incessant barking. Good dog, she thought, as she felt the water now circling her calves.

"Slade!"

That was all she needed to say. He threw down the mallet and raced toward her.

"Slade? What the devil are you talking about?" Grady turned just in time to see his brother sprinting down the hill.

Grady flung his arm out in a restraining gesture. "I'll get her."

Slade shoved Grady aside, nearly toppling him into the river. Without hesitation, he walked straight into the water. Boots and all, Lacey couldn't help noting. Grabbing hold of the tree, he hoisted himself onto it. He scooped her into his arms, cradling her against his hard body. She clung to his neck and buried her face against his chest. Hers wasn't the only heart beating fast. She could feel the pounding of his against her cheek.

Surefooted, as always, he walked the length of the log.

Grady reached out to take her from Slade. "Here, give her to me," he said.

But Lacey had no intentions of loosening her grip on Slade. With a muttered curse, Grady dropped his empty arms and stamped off toward the wagon.

Lacey peered shyly up at Slade. He was smiling down at her.

"What took you so long?" she asked before nestling her face back into his soaking shirt.

"We cowboys are a mite slow when we don't have a horse beneath us." He gave her the lightest kiss on the forehead, and carried her across the field. Though, they both knew, she was quite capable of walking on her own.

He set her on her feet by the wagon. With reluctance, she finally took her hands from his neck.

Slade said her dog's name once, in the calmest fashion. The hound came trotting up eager to do his bidding.

"Up," he said patting the wagon, and the dog instantly obeyed.

It was easy to ignore Grady's scowls and angry silence on the ride back. Her body still tingled with the sensation of being cradled in Slade's strong arms.

* * * *

Lacey had chosen to sit in a corner of the deserted dining hall knowing Grady never ventured there. She emptied a small mound of beads on the table.

After inspecting her work, she found, to her alarm, that her elaborate design was nearly completed. There was only the hummingbird's head to finish and a few more leaves before her veil would be complete.

She wondered if she could squeeze in a flower or two. Unfortunately, there wasn't a bit of space left on the hem of the veil. With all the beadwork, no one would be able to distinguish her design unless they looked very closely. From a distance, it would be just a mass of beads.

What was she doing? She couldn't put this off forever. This morning, she'd had to listen to Grady's ultimatum to finish or find herself bareheaded. Would she ever work up the courage to end the betrothal?

She fingered the tiny heart she'd placed in the center of a flower. It was tipped on its side like the old Lazy Heart Ranch brand. The same one Slade Dalton had emblazoned on his hip. It was a silly, sentimental thing to do, she realized. No one would ever see it. Least of all, the person she'd embroidered it for—Slade Dalton.

She could hear Grady's voice in the adjacent room. Lately, she found herself almost fearing him. She took a deep, steadying breath and plunged her needle in. Discovering only after she'd pricked her finger that she'd forgotten her thimble.

She stuck her finger in her mouth and then flipped the embroidery over. With her kerchief, she removed any trace of blood on the end of the needle before pulling it back through the tulle. Grady called her, and she steeled herself to reply.

"I'm in here," she said, her voice nothing but a pitiful croak.

After sweeping the beads into the bag, she glanced up to find him towering over her. He stood with his chest puffed out, feet apart, his thumbs hooked into his belt. Rather like the drawing of a corrupt banker she'd seen on a penny dreadful once.

"Lacey, we discussed it this morning. I don't want you fussing with this dratted thing anymore." He ripped the veil from her hands. He handled it carelessly and squinted at the intricate design. "What a lot of work for nothing. We'll be in and out of that church before anyone even notices."

He fingered his mustache, his mouth drawing into a thin, angry line. "One would think you were trying to postpone the wedding."

Instead of answering, she tried to grab the veil from his hand. He moved it above his head like he was taunting a child. She watched in horror as he wadded it up in his fist.

"You aren't wasting anymore time on this. I'm buying you something in town tomorrow."