Page 161 of The Ranger

“And them?” John asked, nodding to the other hired guns.

Mr. Brennan smiled. “I have another job for them.” He looked toward Clear Creek again then grabbed the reins from Carmine and mounted his horse. He looked down his nose at them. “Bring them to the tree line, you know the place. I’ll be waiting.” He turned his horse toward the other men.

“And if anyone gives us any trouble?” John asked.

“Then get rid of them.” He kicked his horse into a canter, joined the group of waiting men, and rode off.

“Stuffy Englishman,” Randall complained. “I thought he was coming here to give us more money.”

John sighed in relief as their boss rode away. “Not until we finish the job, then we’ll get the rest.” He turned to his brothers and cousins. “Gather round boys, we got some planning to do.”

* * *

The sun was beginningto set, and Maida was vaguely aware of more than a few people nearby.

She opened her eyes, saw she was wrapped in Markhel’s arms, and froze.

“Maida?” Preacher Jo said. “Are you quite all right?”

She nodded and looked at up at Markhel. He was pale, his eyes closed. Was he asleep? She couldn’t tell. For one, they were still sitting on the hay bales, their backs to a stall door. His right arm was around her, and he held her hand with his left. She should be mortified that the town preacher was seeing them like this, but she wasn’t. Not at all.

“I’m fine.” She was more than fine now that she thought about it. But what about Markhel? She squeezed his hand.

He opened his eyes slowly, looked at her and smiled. He muttered something in Muiraran, then noticed Preacher Jo. “Josiah King.”

“Mr. Markhel, er, that is, Mr. Olwen... I hear. So, the two of you have, um,” he looked over his shoulder.

Maida saw Pa behind him, wearing a stern expression. Oh dear.

Preacher Jo cleared his throat. “Markhel, is it your intention to marry Maida?”

Markhel smiled. “It is, Josiah King.”

Preacher Jo straightened. “Well then, have you, um, proposed to the lady?”

“After a fashion.” Markhel’s eyes brightened. “We will wed.”

Preacher Jo nodded, then glanced at Pa again. Maida tried to peek past him to make sure her father wasn’t holding a shot gun. Thank goodness he wasn’t.

“Maida, your parents—especially your father—are adamant the two of you wed. Has there been... something of an intimate nature happening between the two of you?”

Markhel’s eyes narrowed. “We have not yet joined.”

Maida went very still. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of this conversation. She blushed a deep red and squeezed Markhel’s hand again.

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” Preacher Jo said. “But it would be nice if you proposed to Maida, just to make everything proper.”

“Here, here!” Mr. Mulligan called from somewhere in the barn.

Maida giggled. She forgot about Grandma Waller and the others that came to the ranch earlier that day. Had any of the decorations been put up? All she remembered was Markhel’s brush with death, singing to him, then the two of them holding each other. Oh, and kissing! She went red as a beet and hoped Preacher Jo didn’t’ notice.

Markhel narrowed his eyes at him. “You wish to marry us?”

“Oh… well,” Preacher Jo stammered. “Maida’s father is anxious to see you marry and for obvious reasons, or so he says.” He gave them a lopsided smile. “Would you like to set a date?”

Maida laughed. “Pa!”

He shook a finger at her. “Don’t you Pa, me, young lady. If we’re not careful the whole town will be thinking the worst. There’s already talk of Markhel drinking himself under a table!”

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