Gerrity's Bride

“Will you be in your room?” Matt’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. She’d been deep in thought. His words had shattered that privacy, and now she straightened her shoulders and lifted her head. With a tightening of her mouth, she nodded at him in silent acceptance.

“I’ll send Maria to fetch you.”

Once more she nodded and turned away, and he watched her walk down the hallway. He grinned unwillingly as he noted each twitch of her skirt, and the way the heavy fabric clung to the curves beneath.

* * *

“I don’t believe it.” Spoken in a whisper, Emmaline’s words hung in the silence of the library. Her hands clenched at her sides, she spun and walked to the window. Only the rigid strength she had willed to her spine held her upright, and she stared unseeingly out onto the small patch of grass that comprised the front yard.

The man at the desk watched her with concern. Emmaline was the daughter of his friend, and Oswald Hooper had predicted this very reaction. His smile was wry. Anyone with a grain of sense could have predicted her reaction. Samuel was probably well out of it, he decided shrewdly. If her father were here, Emmaline Carruthers would no doubt be more than indignant. As it was, she looked fit to be tied.

Her voice was jerky, and her words were abrupt when she spoke. “Was this your idea?” she asked.

There was no doubt in his mind. Matt knew she was speaking to him. Leaning negligently against the wall, he ran one thumb across his bottom lip while he considered her. Her silhouette was dark against the brilliant sunlight that filtered so easily through the white curtains. The slender length of her was garbed in black, the fabric heavy against her layers of petticoats. Only the glimpse of small, fisted hands and the pale line of her cheek and forehead brought relief to the somber costume covering her.

Shaking his head and silently cursing the man who had brought about this situation, Matt straightened and approached the silent figure. “Your daddy didn’t need any help from me, Emmaline. He dreamed this up all on his own.”

Her lips barely moved, and Matt tilted his head to hear the words. “I can’t do it.”

His shrug was eloquent. “Then don’t. Just get yourself on that wagon and I’ll cart you right back to Forbes Junction, and you can catch the next train headed east.” His drawl had become more pronounced when she turned to face him.

He said with innocence, “Why, I’ll bet you could be in Lexington before the sun rises on Sunday.”

“Wouldn’t you just love that!” she said through clenched teeth. “Wouldn’t you just!”

“Why, no, ma’am.” He slowly rolled the words, as if he were jesting with her. Truth to tell, he’d been enjoying the faint accent she placed on each syllable as she spoke. The contrast of her soft, cultured voice and the anger flashing from her blue eyes pleased him.

“I suppose you’d prefer the alternative,” she suggested scornfully.

For just a second, his eyes glistened with unholy glee, and she inhaled sharply.

“Well, ma’am,” he drawled, “I’d say that I’m not in a position to decide that, one way or the other. I’m willing to go along with your wishes.”

It was so tempting, Emmaline thought. He was so close she could see the tiny squint lines beside his eyes. She could stamp her foot or swing a closed fist at him or spout the swear words she’d heard the trainers use back in Lexington.

She swallowed the words, and kept her hands tightly clenched. Her feet were another matter. Her toes were twitching inside the slender boots she wore, so badly did they want to deliver a punishing blow to the instep of the arrogant man who taunted her.

She moved quickly, fearful of revealing the anger bubbling in her depths. He lifted his brow in surprise as she spun to face him fully, and hid a smile as her feet sounded firmly against the carpet.

“My wishes are not the issue here, Mr. Gerrity,” she said with biting sarcasm. “My late father has shown no regard whatsoever for my needs or desires in this matter.”

“Miss Carruthers,” the man at the desk said mildly, anxious to turn this conversation back to the matter at hand. “We need to hear the rest of the will before you make a hasty decision.”

As if she had forgotten his existence, Emmaline’s eyes widened in recognition. “There’s more?”

Since the terms of the will had been read, just minutes ago, she’d been thrown into a state of shock, she realized. That her father could have tied up this ranch, the money in the bank and the fate of her sister with such horrendous terms was unbelievable.

As legal documents went, it was quite simple, really, she thought glumly, remembering each word.

It is my decision that my daughter, Emmaline Carruthers, join with Matthew Gerrity, my stepson, in a marriage that will ensure the heritage of my father being passed on to coming generations. Therefore, I grant joint custody to Emmaline and Matthew, in the case of my beloved daughter Theresa, so that she may be raised with the influence of both her brother and sister. So long as Emmaline and Matthew live on this property, they will be joint owners and joint caretakers of my daughter, Theresa. Should they decide not to enter into such a marriage, neither of them will inherit from me anything other than personal items which shall be listed below.

The lawyer cleared his throat and adjusted his spectacles. “Yes, there is more.” His face became suffused in a rosy hue, and Emmaline’s eyes sharpened as she sensed his discomfort. As though he were sending her a silent apology for what was to come, he glanced at her somberly.

“Allow me to continue,” he said.

However, if they decide to abide by the above terms, and should there not be issue from the above described marriage within two years, I declare that neither Emmaline Carruthers or Matthew Gerrity shall remain as owners, but said ownership will revert at that time to my daughter Theresa. Matthew Gerrity will remain in his present position for as long as he desires. A suitable guardian shall be appointed for Theresa and the property held in trust for her until the age of twenty-one.

“He can’t do that!” Emmaline’s words were anguished.

Oswald Hooper looked at her sympathetically, as if he could not bear to deny her claim.

Matt had no such compunction.

“Looks to me like he did do exactly that,” he said with a humorless smile.

“There’s not much more,” said the lawyer. “Just some bequests to the people here, and some legal processes to take place, ensuring the rights of the child. Other than that, you’ve heard the gist of it. Once you two are married, the deed will be changed to include both of your names.”

“Matt Gerrity has no right,” she blurted. “He’s no blood relation.”

“Your father chose the terms, Miss Carruthers,” the lawyer reminded her gently.

“I won’t do it,” she vowed with whispered determination.

“Don’t be so quick to decide, Emmaline.” Matt’s voice was deep, demanding her attention. She looked up quickly to meet his gaze. “If you turn down the terms of the will, I’ll have no choice but to send you on your way. You’ll lose contact with Tessie.”

“And what about you? What will happen to you?”

His shoulders lifted once more, negligently. “Well, I suppose I’ll just stay on here as ranch foreman. The will gives me that option, if I’m not mistaken.”

“It could be interpreted that way,” Mr. Hooper said, prompted by Matt’s questioning look.

“And you’ll have Theresa,” Emmaline said bitterly.

He nodded as he repeated her words. “And I’ll have Theresa.”

“I won’t allow that to happen,” she declared, her chin lifting another notch. Her nostrils flared delicately, and her eyes shone with barely repressed fury. “I’ll do anything I have to.”

She was a fighter, Matt decided, watching the lines of her face firm up before his eyes. Her jaw was clenched, and her lips tightened as she awaited his reply.

With an edge of anger, he accepted her challenge. “So be it.”

Old Samuel had had the last laugh, he thought grimly. He had always told him he’d like to see the day Matt met his match. And this daughter of his damn sure looked like it.

Chapter Three

“Saai, Mr. Matt has been in charge here for two years. And every unmarried woman in the territory has been making eyes at him,” Maria added for good measure.

Emmaline’s mouth pursed as she considered the statement. “I’ll bet he eats it up,” she said finally.