Rowe’s face had a taut, almost agonized expression that pierced Katy’s heart. Protectiveness came boiling up inside her. How dare that pissant of a half brother make his life miserable!

  “Shhh . . . Do you think that I’m so frivolous that I have to have ribbons and lace to remember my wedding day? Darling, it’ll be a wedding I’ll be proud to tell our children about. For all I care, you can have the preacher come here, and I’ll wear this bedsheet to give more spice to add to the story.”

  The intensity of his love for her shook him, and like the surging warmth of the sun, a radiant feeling of being at last complete spread through him. Dear God, how wonderful she was!

  “I love you, my Nightrose,” he said, his voice rough with the effort it took not to let her see the moisture in his eyes.

  “I love you.” The unfamiliar words sounded strange coming from her own lips. She tried them again. “I love you.” It was easier the second time. She wrapped her arms about his neck. “I love you,” she said with the tip of her nose pressed to his.

  Rowe found Anton in the corner of the hotel lobby, his head tilted back against the wall, a newspaper over his face. Rowe jerked the paper aside and Anton was instantly awake.

  “Holy hell, Rowe. I didn’t get much sleep last night,” Anton complained and stretched, then pushed his glasses up on his nose.

  “What did you find out?”

  “Plenty.”

  “Let’s have it.” Rowe glanced around the lobby to see if anyone was within hearing distance, then sat down.

  “Justin and his wife are registered at the Anaconda. At least she’s registered as his wife. I didn’t have any trouble spotting him at the Occidental Billiard Hall. The way he looks and dresses, he stood out like a privy in the moonlight. He had already made the acquaintance of our friend from the bank, Oscar Gable. They attended the show at the Opera House and later went up the hill to the house of the woman they call ‘the Doll.’”

  “Good God! That place is an opium den. I thought Justin had more sense than that.”

  “I heard you can get any kind of dope you want there. Any kind of sex too. Maybe I ought to try it.” Mischief lit Anton’s eyes through the oval wires of his glasses.

  “She sets a trap with sex and dope,” Rowe growled.

  “How do you know so much about it?”

  “I’ve been to the Barbary Coast. Places such as the Doll House are common there.”

  “Justin may have met his match with that woman.”

  “Time will tell. What else did you find out?”

  “Gable is enamored of your little friend, Nan Neal. He never misses one of her shows. Afterwards, he usually heads for one of the cribs in the lower part of town, but last night he went up the hill because more likely your brother was paying.”

  “Paying for information. Justin does nothing out of the kindness of his heart.”

  “I hung around until about two o’clock, then went back to the boardinghouse to bed.”

  “That’s the reason Justin is sleeping late this morning.”

  “What?”

  Rowe told Anton in as few words as possible about Helga’s visit, ending with, “It took an extraordinary amount of courage for her to come warn me. Justin would make her suffer if he knew. He’s taken her son away from her and holds the threat over her head that she may never see him again. What a hell of a way to live.”

  “He and Gable were pretty thick last night. They had their heads together for several hours. Gable knows Justin has money and he’ll play him for as much of it as he can get. He’s not above setting up a murder.”

  “Katy and I will be married today. Then, we’ll go back to Trinity. It goes against the grain to run from my own brother, but it would go harder if I had to kill him.”

  “Too bad he even found out you’re here.”

  “Coincidences.” Rowe grinned. “Two, in fact, provided by fate. One brought us here at this time; the other let us know Justin was here.”

  “You really believe in that malarky?”

  “Why not? It’s better than not believing it.” Rowe sobered. His dark brows drew together in a deep frown. “Find the preacher of that church with the cross on top and tell him we’ll be there in, say”—he drew out his pocket watch and consulted it—“about two hours. Tell him that Katy has a jealous suitor who has threatened her, and that we want to be married quietly so we can get out of town.”

  “You expect me to lie to a preacher?”

  “Sure. You’ve done it before. Remember the time in Minnesota when—”

  “Never mind. Have you forgotten that Hank shot the top off that cross? The preacher was mad as hell.”

  “He got over it when we paid for it and bought him a glass window to boot.”

  “What are you going to do now?”

  “Three things. The first is to write out a will and get it over to Wells Fargo to post. The second is to call on a friend of mine over on Idaho Street.”

  “You’d go see her when you’re marrying Katy today?”

  “We’re friends, just friends.”

  “Bull hocky! What’s the third?”

  “Never mind. Be at the church with the preacher in two hours. And spruce yourself up a little for my wedding—huh?”

  Rowe found Beulah, ordered a breakfast to be taken to Katy, then asked the desk clerk for paper, pen, and ink. He took it to a corner of the lobby and wrote busily for a quarter of an hour. When he finished, he carefully read what he had written before he put the paper in the envelope and addressed it to his attorney in New York City.

  On the porch of the hotel he paused to look up and down the flag-draped street. Already, it was clogged with wagons of farm and ranch families, miners from the Alder Gulch area, and a large number of lonely drifters hungering for female company. It would be a big day for the hurdy-gurdy girls, the saloons, billiard parlors, and brothels. By afternoon, when the contests began, the street would be a sea of people, dancing, singing, and celebrating.

  After Rowe posted his letter with the Overland Mail, he went to the livery to look in on his horse and the mare Katy had ridden. He was pleased to see the cut on the horse’s rump was healing. He left the livery and walked along the back of the buildings until he reached the one that housed the hurdy-gurdy girls. The backs of the structures along this side of the street, having been undermined by water rushing down hill, were supported by ten-foot stilts. Rowe went quickly up the side stairs, down a dark hall to a room on the end, and rapped smartly on the door.

  “Who is it?” The irritated voice came after Rowe had knocked repeatedly.

  “Rowe.” He spoke quietly and wasn’t sure he had been heard until a key turned in the lock and a disheveled Nan Neal opened the door.

  “Darlin’! This is a hell of a time to come callin’.” Dark hair framed a pixie face with a wide generous mouth and slightly turned up nose. The wide neck of the garment she wore had slipped off her shoulder and hung beneath a small, firm, rosy-tipped breast. She made no attempt to cover it.

  “Hello, sleepyhead. Were you going to sleep all day and miss the big doings?” Rowe gently pushed her back until he could come into the room and close the door. He reached for her, pulled the gown up over her breast, then held her shoulders to keep her from wrapping her arms about him.

  “I want to talk to you, honey.”

  “Talk? You’re enough to make a preacher cuss. You’d rather talk than go to bed?”

  “I need your help. I’m getting married today.”

  “Married? Oh, poot!” She stomped her bare foot. “You know I don’t diddle with married men. Why do all the good men get married? Mara Shannon snatched Pack right out from under my nose, and now you’re gettin’ yourself tied up. Who is she? I’ll pull her hair out.”

  Rowe chuckled. He knew that Nan’s talk was just that— talk. She loved her life of singing and dancing and turned down proposals of marriage on almost a weekly basis. She could have her choice of any number of men who had the means to take care of her in grand style, but she refused to give up her independence.

  “You wantin’ to get married, honey?” he teased.

  “Hell, no!” she flared, then gave him a sideways flirtatious glance. “You askin’?”

  “I’m taken, but I bet I could get Oscar Gable for you.”

  “That pissant! How did you know about him? I’m goin’ to use his balls for target practice if he don’t stop followin’ me around with that big stick in his britches and the look of a dying cow on his face.”

  “Do you suppose you could get any information out of him?”

  “Rowe, darlin’”—Nan’s lips curled in a crooked, confident smile—“I can make him pee his pants by just lookin’ at him. He’d babble like a brook if I worked on him just a little bitty bit. Tell me what you want to know.”

  “Nothing right now. Sit down, honey. I’ve something to tell you.”

  Rowe told Nan about Justin and his newly formed friendship with Oscar Gable.

  “That big, light-haired man that was with Oscar last night is your half brother? Holy shit! His eyes were as cold as a bucket of ice.”

  Rowe explained that if his half brother hired someone to kill him or sabotage his lumber business, Gable would be in on it. He asked Nan to keep her ears open and get word to Anton if she heard anything.

  “I will, darlin’. I sure as hell will. Now tell me about this woman who stole you away from me.”

  “She’s about your size, only a little bigger up here,” Rowe laughed and pulled on the rosette at the neck of her gown.

  “Bigger ain’t always better, you silly man!” Nan flashed him a grin. “I bet she can’t kick the hat off your head.”

  “No. She can’t do that. But I think you’d like her, Nan. She’s proud, independent, and she’s a warm, sweet woman like you.”

  Nan framed his face with her palms and kissed him on the lips. “I’m happy for you, darlin’. If you love her, she must be a hell of a woman—and a damn lucky one. I might of even married you myself—if you’d of asked me.”

  “Come to Trinity, Nan. Katy and I are going to make it a real town.”

  “Build me an Opera House and I will.” She followed Rowe to the door. “Darlin’, why don’t you just kill that asshole brother of yours and get it over with?”

  “I can’t, honey, unless it comes down to his life or mine.”

  “If I hear anything, I’ll get word to that old stick-in-the-mud Anton.”

  “I thought you liked Anton.”

  “I do. He’s just not any fun.”

  “You and Anton are the only ones in town I can depend on. Thanks, honey. You know where to find me if ever you’re in need.”

  “I know. Bye, darlin’. Be happy.”

  CHAPTER

  Nineteen

  On the way back to the hotel Rowe passed the dressmaker’s shop and paused briefly. He thought of buying something pretty for Katy, but discarded the idea for fear of stepping on her pride. He continued on down the boardwalk to the goldsmith’s shop and ten minutes later came out with a small gold ring in his pocket.

  He stood with his back to the building and debated whether or not to go over to the Anaconda Hotel and confront his brother. What good would it do? he asked himself. The last three times they had come face-to-face, Justin had lost control and they had almost killed each other. What could Garrick say to him that would make a difference? There would be no reasoning with a man who had so many years of hate built up inside him. Justin was still competing with him, Rowe realized. Not for their father’s love, as he had done when he was eight years old, but for things such as success and peace of mind. Rowe supposed it was Justin’s warped view that if he made his brother’s life miserable, he, himself, would be happier.

  His face grave and quiet, Rowe once again moved into the stream of traffic on the walk and headed back to the hotel and Katy. It had been over an hour since he left her, and he couldn’t wait to see her again.

  They had dressed carefully for the ceremony that would make them man and wife; Katy in her freshly ironed blue dress, and Rowe in a white shirt, black string tie and a coat that made his shoulders seem a yard wide.

  At the door of the church Katy paused, removed her hand from his, lifted the blue shawl from her shoulders and folded it. Carefully she placed it on her head with the point at the top of her forehead and the soft folds falling along her shoulders. She stroked the softness of the shawl, took a steadying breath, and raised her eyes to the man watching her.

  “I was right,” he said softly. “That shawl is just the color of your eyes.”

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  “You’re the one that’s beautiful.” His dark eyes were soft with love.

  She reached up and touched his face with her fingertips. In a short time this man would be her husband. The suddenness of her decision was shocking, yet she knew in her heart that she had lived all her life for this moment. They had been drawn to each other like steel to a magnet. The bond that held them together was exquisitely beautiful, but as strong as chains forged in iron.

  “I love you.” She raised her lips for his kiss.

  “I love you. Will you be my wife?” he whispered.

  “Forever and ever. Will you be my husband?” she asked with sweet solemnity.

  “For as long as we live and throughout eternity,” he vowed; he bent his head and took her lips softly, adoringly, lingeringly. It was a kiss of deep commitment. “When I first saw you on the path in the moonlight, I knew I had found what I had been looking for all my life. In my heart you’re my wife, but we must go in and make our vows legal in the eyes of man.”

  Anton was waiting just inside the door with a bouquet of flowers that he thrust into Katy’s arms. He then led the way to the front of the church.

  The preacher stood stoop-shouldered and old in the stream of yellow light from the window. His voice, however, was strong.

  “Mr. Garrick Rowe. Miss Katherine Burns. Please step forward. As you have no witnesses other than Mr. Hooker, and two signatures are required on the marriage paper, my wife will be pleased to act as the second witness.” He nodded toward a woman with a sweet face and gray hair tightly coiled on the top of her head. After both Katy and Rowe nodded to the woman, he took up a large Bible, stepped out in front of the pulpit and said, “Stand before me.”

  Rowe and Katy moved to face him, holding tightly to each other’s hands. Anton and the preacher’s wife arranged themselves for the ceremony; Anton on Rowe’s right, the woman on Katy’s left.

  The preacher opened the Book.

  “Take her left hand.”

  Katy placed her hand in Rowe’s and their fingers entwined in a knot of love. She watched the preacher’s old, spotted hands turn the thin pages of the Bible and wished that Mary were standing here beside her as she took her vows. Today she was joining her life to that of a rugged, earthy man who would love, cherish, and protect her and their children. They would live out the days of their lives together, grow old together. Never again would she wake to a day of loneliness stretching out before her. Katy was realistic enough to know that, as she and Rowe traveled through life together, there would be rough spots, that she may not always feel this glow of happiness, but she was confident their love would be enduring.

  The service began. The preacher’s hushed, reverent tones brought her back to the present. Her eyes went quickly to Rowe’s and found that he was gazing down at her.

  “Do you, Garrick Rowe, take this woman, Katherine Burns, to be your lawful wedded wife? Do you promise, before God, to love her and cherish her in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death do you part?”

  While Rowe listened to the words, his eyes were on the face of the woman who had become dearer than life to him.

  “I do promise.”

  “Do you, Katherine Burns, take this man, Garrick Rowe. to be your lawful wedded husband? Do you promise, before God, to love him and cherish him, to honor and obey him, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until death do you part?”

  With her eyes locked with Rowe’s, she whispered, “I do.”

  “The ring, please.”

  Rowe reached into his pocket for the gold band and placed it on Katy’s finger. With his eyes holding hers, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the symbol of their union.

  “By the right invested in me by the Church of our Lord and Savior, and by the law of Montana Territory in this year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and seventy-four, I declare you man and wife.”

  The ceremony that changed their lives forever was over quickly. Rowe and Katy turned to each other. He looked into her face, then slowly pulled her into his arms. His lips touched hers gently and reverently, then a smile stripped years from his face.

  “Hello, wife,” he whispered.

  “Hello . . . husband,” she answered.

  For the longest time he simply held her against him, looking at her, unmindful of the others. In her eyes was such a look of adoration that he was suddenly fearful. Her love was so great a miracle that all he could think of was how well he would care for this magnificent woman who was the core of his life.

  “Are you two going to look at each other all day?” Anton’s bored voice finally broke the silence. “I want to kiss the bride.”

  Rowe released her reluctantly, stepped back, and bore nobly Anton’s kissing his wife. Dear God, how had he lived until now without her sweet, joyous presence in his life?

  The preacher stepped over to a table and indicated a document spread on it. “If you will both sign, the witnesses will affix their signatures.”

  He dipped the pen in the inkhorn and handed it to Katy. She set her name to the paper and passed the pen to Rowe. When he finished, first Anton, then the preacher’s wife signed the marriage papers. The preacher waved the paper until he was sure the ink was dry, then he handed it to Katy.

  She folded it carefully, said, “Thank you, sir.” And to his wife, “Thank you too, ma’am.”

 

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