Thirty-two

On August 20, 1881, with Papa by her side, Glory became Mrs. Luke McClain. She brought a sizeable piece of property to the marriage; land that she hoped made up for the property Luke had sacrificed for her family.

“It’s about time,” Squirt had declared. “If you weren’t gonna marry him, I was.”

At least she could depend on baby sis to liven the solemn ceremony.

Hope tried to shush her, but she’d have none of that. “I mean it too. And, sister, if you don’t get a move on, I’ll set my cap for Alex O’Brien.”

Horace came to say goodbye. “I gotta go. I’m a Texas Ranger now. Captain Roberts is waiting for me. Pa is real mad, but I don’t care. I’m finally somebody.” He whispered in her ear, “Remember, Mr. Luke has the key that can unlock any door.”

Two days later, Glory lay wrapped in Luke’s arms in a bed in Fort Worth. Sleep had long since vanished.

Lovemaking with a new husband had a way of stealing the need for rest. In fact, it reduced all else to trivial indulgence.

The hotel’s finest bridal suite held a lot of unfamiliar noises and scents, none of the frightening variety. She was safe. And even had they lain in the midst of the loudest, raging storm, she would have no trouble distinguishing the sound of Luke’s quiet breathing. His presence had a way of filling her so completely, it left no room for fear of any sort.

Outside Hotel Alexander, the wind howled, slamming the beginnings of a rain shower against the windowpane.

Once upon a time, when she believed such a wind signaled ill will and danger, the noise would’ve sent foreboding through her bones. Not now.

She smiled and rolled toward Sir Cowboy, Prince of Charmers, letting the barest tips of her fingers trail across the broad expanse of his chest. Never would she tire of touching the man who magically turned ashes of dreams into a life of promise, complete with more bliss than she could imagine. He’d shown her the lady already inside and given everything he possessed for little more than the light in her eyes.

“Umm…I suppose we should get dressed or…we’ll miss that mysterious appointment.”

“You’d better stop or I’ll say to hell with it and give you another lesson in the fine art of wifely pleasures.”

The rakish threat aroused another slew of tingles. When he rose on an elbow, brushed aside her hair to ply her earlobes and neck with hot caresses, tiny pinpricks of excitement marched as one army with a single purpose.

“Me?” The breathy question stole softly from her lips.

“Yep, it’s your fault. See what you started?”

“What can be so all-fired important we can’t miss it?”

Luke gave her a lingering kiss, leaving the taste of him in her mouth. “Sorry to disappoint, darlin’. Get dressed now. Can’t be late.”

The springs squeaked when he sat on the side. Glory threw back the sheet. Only after she heard a loud groan did she remember she didn’t wear a stitch of anything. Amazing how fast a woman in love shed her modesty. She would hide nothing from her helpmate.

They were one heart, one body, one soul forevermore.

He’d best not look if he didn’t want an eyeful, that’s all she had to say.

She reached for the water pitcher, filled the ceramic bowl, and dipped the washcloth. Wringing it, she encountered the smooth metal ring on her finger. Luke had insisted on replacing the token she’d worn. With something more proper, he’d said, grinning. She missed that simple cigar band. It symbolized the purity and depth of their commitment in ways expensive gold bands failed.

Her mind flew to the time they’d spoken of epitaphs and tombstones.

She lived, she died, end of story?

Hardly. She would carve the words Here lies Glory Day McClain, who had the greatest love the world has ever known.

* * *

Glory listened to the click of the latch closing behind them as they left the office of the renowned eye specialist. Soft rain muffled her heels on the wooden sidewalk. Luke took her elbow and steered her toward the hotel. His unusual quiet flung old fears to the surface.

If only she could see the truth on his face!

“Have the regrets I warned you of already begun?”

Permanent blindness, Dr. Smith had told them. No surprise to her. She’d accepted such a verdict. Her stomach twisted with dread. Would he not want the damaged goods he’d gotten?

Perhaps the depth of her disability had not sunk in until he’d heard it from a learned man of science.

How could she, in all faith, hold him?

Luke helped her carefully manage the hotel steps a few doors down. “Lady, I have not one qualm. I will take you with sight or blind, with shoes or barefoot, makes no difference. Dr. Smith’s opinion doesn’t change the fact that I happen to love you.”

Brimming tears of happiness swept aside the last of her doubts. “Then why did you drag us here?”

“Santa Anna’s esteemed sawbones.”

“You spoke with Ted Dalton?” The image of the two men conversing brought a smile. He must truly have tender feelings for her to consult the man he envied.

“That so hard to believe? I have nothing against Dalton. He can’t flirt with your affections now. Well, he can, but he’d better not if he knows what’s best for him. Mrs. McClain, you are legally bound to me, lock, stock, and barrel. I can afford to be generous.”

“But why did he advise you to seek out an eye specialist? He said himself my sight would never return.”

“I wanted to make absolutely sure. He hinted there might be a speck of hope. And if I could do something… I just wanted to leave no stone unturned, that’s all.”

Mr. Fix-It at work again. She thought she’d broken him of the habit. A happy grin spread over her face. You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t make him drink.

Didn’t matter. Nothing could dampen her mood. Her husband could be as imperfect as he wished.

Luke was hers to cherish.

She had that in writing on her heart.

He’d never leave.

Except when he had law work to do. A smile touched her lips. Santa Anna should have a sheriff before long. Luke just didn’t know it yet. He had no monopoly on fixing things. He had no idea the can of worms he’d opened.

But in the meantime, while she was breaking him in, she meant to give him more lessons in reading her mind.

The strong arm around her waist heated the embers they’d had to hurriedly bank earlier. A change in the steady rhythm of his heart against her shoulder promised another ride on the magic carpet of the man called McClain.

She broke into a faster walk.