Thundering Sunset, page 4
He grinned, a twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “Well, it would satisfy my curiosity and”––the twinkle diminished and was replaced by something more serious and somber––“since you’re refusing to tell your brother what you know about your accident, then I feel it’s only right that I protect you.”
“I do not need you to protect me.” Marie’s eyes flashed with anger and irritation.
Michael was likely jumping into a pile of horse manure, but he felt a duty toward this woman. He wasn’t willing to walk away. “I already did it once today, seems only right that I continue to do it.”
“You did not save me.”
“Oh, I most certainly did. The way your legs were flapping there in the wind for all the world to see, you definitely needed rescuing.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I was not flapping in the wind.”
“Oh, you were, and then you couldn’t get out, which is to be expected. You, of course, being a woman of delicate sensibilities.” He was exaggerating, but he enjoyed watching her flush. It brightened her cheeks and made her even more becoming.
“Delicate sensibilities.” Her voice grew loud, and she pounded her fist into her palm. “How dare you say––”
“It appears you’re getting flushed. Perhaps you need to sit.” He reached for her elbow, but she slapped him away.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking or doing, but I am not a delicate woman. I certainly don’t need a man to help me sit.”
In her haste and frustration, she tripped. Michael immediately saw what was happening, and before she could do or say anything, he grabbed her around the waist and stopped her fall. Her screech was muffled when her face hit his chest.
He had never tried to antagonize a woman as much as he was antagonizing her, but it was so much fun seeing her frustrated. It was obvious she was one of those independent women who didn’t think she needed help and probably thought she could do everything on her own. While he appreciated their independence, sometimes having a man around wasn’t exactly awful.
She pushed at him. “Let me go this instant.”
“I think you’re traumatized by today’s activities. It’s pretty obvious you’ve lost your balance. Stumbling around, confused. I’d hate for you to fall and conk your head on something.”
“I didn’t stumble. I tripped. There is a big difference.” She glared at him.
Eager to see what more she would say, he said, “Tripped on what?”
“There was a…” She stopped as if trying to remember what she might have tripped over.
“See, it’s clear you’re confused. You’re not even sure what you might or might not have tripped over.”
“I’m not confused.”
“And you’re awfully flushed. Do you feel faint?” He brushed his good hand against her forehead, but she swatted it away.
“Faint,” she said. “What in the world are you blathering on about?”
He looked down into her brilliant blue eyes. “Yes, I can see you’re about to faint. I should get you a glass of water. Oh, no, I can’t do that. I need to stay to catch you if you were to fall again.”
“I…”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Quit calling me ma’am,” she snarled.
“Now, now. Getting upset won’t help. You need to rest. Perhaps I should take you up to your bedroom.” As soon as he said the words, he cringed. He sounded like a reprobate, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself, especially since she had quit fighting him and was nestled in his arms. He hadn’t even noticed the pain in his hand when he held such a spitfire.
“You won’t take me up to my bedroom.”
“You’re absolutely correct. That is completely inappropriate. You shouldn’t be left alone with a man. We need a chaperone.” He looked over his shoulder as though looking for one.
“I don’t need to be chaperoned.”
“Clearly confused. Of course, you need a chaperone. A young lady such as yourself should never be left alone with a man unless he is her husband.”
“I decide who and where I can be left alone with a man. If I want to be alone with you, then I could do so.”
Michael tilted his head, a grin threatening to cross his lips. Did she realize what she had just said?
He had the sudden urge to kiss her. Shock or anticipation was written all over her face, but before he could kiss her, she smacked him across his cheek. Her jaw was clenched, but a sparkle lit up her blue eyes.
Then, before he could stop her, she shoved him away and fell to the ground. Her skirts tangled around her legs.
“Are you all right?” He reached to help her, but she slapped his hands away.
“Do not touch me. How dare you! I should scream. Walter will have your head for this.”
He had gone too far. The game he was playing was too much. It was one he shouldn’t have started. He could have hurt her, and that wasn’t the man he wanted to be.
Marie was furious. She rolled over and scrambled to stand.
“Never touch me again.” She swatted at her skirts, anything to hide her frustration. He pushed her buttons, made her say things in anger, and had caused her to humiliate herself. She moved a few steps away, but he grabbed her arm. She wrenched away and glared at him. “I said, do not touch me!”
“Marie––”
“Oh, so now you can call me by my name.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to escalate this far.” He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the wall.
“Right,” she drawled, anger dripping from her tone. “Because men never––”
“I’m not most men,” he spat.
“I certainly don’t know that, and after that, I…” She shook her head. “If you don’t mind, I need to return to the party before Walter realizes I’ve been gone too long.”
Walter already had an inkling she wasn’t telling him everything, and if she disappeared for a long period, there was no telling what he would do in the light of day. She had miscalculated and never should have brought him into the darkened servants’ hallway.
“You don’t want to do that.”
Aggravated, she glowered at him. “And why don’t I want to?”
“Because you look as though you’ve been ravished. If you don’t want to return to the party looking like you’ve had a romp in the woods, you might want to stop and let me help you.”
Startled, she stopped. Her blouse had come untucked from her skirt, and her hair hung in clumps, having fallen from its pins. She was mortified. Her nervous hands went to her hair, then to her waistband, then to her skirt. She couldn’t go back looking like this. Walter would definitely lock her up and throw away the key if her honor had been besmirched, as antiquated as that thought might be. She still had to live with him and didn’t want to upset him unnecessarily.
Michael’s hands reached for hers and held them. She tried to pull away, but he held tight. Why was he being this way?
“Let me go!” she growled.
“I will, but you need to take a deep breath.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” She tried to rip away, but he held firm. Anger pulsated inside of her like a drum, growing with intensity each passing second.
“I’m not telling you what to do, but you’re flustered. Since most of this is my fault, I’m going to help.”
“I don’t need your help.” His chivalry was beyond frustrating.
“You do.”
“But––”
“Let me help, Marie, please.” His voice was contrite.
Perhaps he had realized he had gone too far, but before she could protest, he released her hands, grasped her around the waist, lifted her off the ground, and flipped her around. He gently took her hair, pulled out the remaining hairpins, and deftly twisted it, tucked it, and pinned it up in moments. He seemed a little too comfortable fixing a woman’s hair, and that sent a feeling through her body that she didn’t recognize.
She glanced over her shoulder to look at him, and he gently turned it back as he finished pushing in the last of her hairpins.
“There,” he said. “That looks better. It isn’t as nice as you had it before, but I’m sure no one will notice.”
He tried once again to reach for her waist and tried to tuck in her shirt, but she pulled away. He had done enough.
“No, I can do that.” His touch evoked feelings she wasn’t prepared for.
She quickly tucked in her blouse and smoothed down invisible wrinkles in her skirt.
“You look presentable. No one’ll be the wiser.” His voice was soft and full of remorse.
She opened her mouth but snapped it shut. Saying thank you didn’t seem appropriate, as she wasn’t thankful, but at the same time, he had tried to help her maintain her dignity.
Instead, she nodded and then fled down the hallway to find her brother. He was safe, secure, and familiar.
Four
Marie stormed down the hall. Walter was being unreasonable again. She had dissuaded him from inquiring about the carriage accident, spinning it as a minor mishap, but someone had seen what had happened and had inquired after her safety, claiming the accident had been quite horrific. Walter had been furious when he came home for dinner, roaring with disbelief that she hadn’t told him what had truly happened just two days before.
“Get back here, Marie!” he bellowed, the sounds reverberating off the walls.
Done listening to his troublesome demands, she yelled, “No!”
“We’re not finished.”
She bent over the railing, dug her fingers into the soft wood, and glared down at him. “Yes, we are. You’re being unreasonable. When you can talk to me like an adult and not like a blazing idiot, then I’ll talk to you. Until then, I’m going to bed.”
Marie spun around and marched to her room. She slipped inside and closed the door behind her before leaning against it, breathing heavily. She hated it when she and Walter fought, but he shouldn’t issue ultimatums to her. Marie was not a child, and no matter what he thought, she would do and say whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, wherever she wanted.
Marie had been independent too long to let any man tell her what to do. She wasn’t some young girl with no experience and no knowledge of the world. Working with the suffragists had exposed her to the darker parts of marriages and how women were treated with no one to advocate for them. She would do everything in her power to change that dynamic.
Walter had gone too far tonight, insisting she would never find a husband if she didn’t change her ways––as though she lived for finding a husband. Finding one of those was the last thing she was looking for, and he didn’t understand why she wasn’t trying to tie herself to a man.
He was worried about her, and while she didn’t fault him for that, he didn’t have the right to stop her. He was her older brother, and she respected him, but she didn’t obey him. There were plenty of times when she acquiesced to his wishes, but this was one time she would not. He was misguided to think that if she stopped attending the suffragist meetings, she would be safe from harm. She could be trampled by a herd of buffalo if she were in the right place at the right time.
It had been an accident, pure and simple, but Walter was too stubborn to admit it while they’d been arguing in his study earlier that evening.
Unfortunately, in her anger, she had reminded him that she didn’t have to live with him, and that had been the wrong thing to say if she’d wanted him to listen to her.
“I don’t need to stay here, Walter. I’m happy to find a new place to live.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” He slammed his desk drawer shut. He ripped off his spectacles and threw them on the desk. “We agreed when our parents passed that we would live here until…”
She stared at him silently, waiting for him to finish his thought. She could be patient even when he was being an obstinate pain in her backside. He hated it when she did this, which was why she did it. He used his loud booming voice and clout to get his reporters to do as he wished, but it didn’t work with her.
“Dammit, Marie. Don’t play that game with me.” His face was red and his cheeks were puffy. “We agreed years ago that we’d never sell this place.”
“I never said I wanted to sell it. I said I could move out. I have enough put away to find a place and could live comfortably for some time.”
“That’s a ridiculous notion. There’s no reason you should waste your inheritance when you could stay here. That’s always been the plan.” He jabbed his finger into his desk as though that was going to make her stay. But if he didn’t stop his authoritarian actions, she would have to do something drastic.
“Then quit trying to dictate what I do.”
“I’m not dictating anything––”
“Yes, you are.”
He looked like a blowfish, or at least how she imagined one, with his bulging, splotchy red cheeks. She had to hide her smirk. He was already incensed, and that would only infuriate him further.
“Your threats won’t intimidate me.” She squared her shoulders, determined not to let him get his way.
“I’m trying to protect you.”
She stood, stalked to his desk, placed her palms against the cold wood, and stared hard at her brother. “Let me make one thing clear. I do not need protection. I’m tired of you and every man thinking that women can’t take care of themselves.” She took a breath. “It was an accident. Nothing more, nothing less. Keeping me locked up won’t change what happened.”
With that, she whirled around and stalked out of his study. Walter’s blistering words echoed behind her. She’d ignored him until she yelled at him over the stairwell. Normally, she wouldn’t have done that, but when he told her to return to his study like he was her father, she had finally lost her composure.
She needed to talk to Michael first thing in the morning. With any luck, he would agree to tell Walter it’d been a minor accident, and her brother would stop with his threats. The problem was, she didn’t want to be anywhere near Michael. He was the most annoying man. She could only imagine what his future wife would go through. He thought he was so funny, but he wasn’t. He was rude and inconsiderate, but if she wanted to calm Walter’s nerves, she had to get someone to convince him that everything was fine.
Shaking her head, she stalked toward her wardrobe, ripped open the doors, and snatched up her nightgown. There were days she wondered about all the possibilities of a future where women were as equal as men, and then there were days she wondered if her efforts were fruitless. Too many obstacles stood in her way, and not having the support of her only blood relative made it hard to push past the naysayers in town.
A part of her wanted what Walter did––a family and a home of her own––but she wasn’t willing to give up everything to have a husband. They controlled too much and had too much to say in what a woman did. If only she could get the women’s vote in the state of Montana. Wyoming had allowed women the right to vote for years. She didn’t understand why Montana was so far behind. At the rate they were going, she wasn’t sure when or if it was going to happen. She was frustrated. No matter what she did or how much she cajoled, she couldn’t get women or men, for that matter, to understand how important it was.
She had to quit dwelling on the negatives. She was determined to gain equality for women, and she would. It just might take longer than she’d anticipated. One thing was for certain: she wouldn’t let Walter’s overbearing attitude stop her. There was too much to gain and too much to lose. It was up to her to continue.
If she didn’t have that, what else did she have?
The next morning, Marie entered the kitchen once Walter left for his newspaper office. She had no wish to confront him, and with time, maybe he’d cool down. She had stayed up most of the night thinking about what she could say to Michael and wasn’t convinced he would agree, but she had to try.
She hitched the horse to the buggy, climbed inside, and urged the horse forward. The movement jerked her forward in her seat, but unlike a few days ago, the horse didn’t take off like the pits of hell were chasing after it. The loaned buggy wasn’t as nice as Walter’s, but it had two wheels and was better than walking. With any luck, she would catch Michael before his day became busy.
She would approach Michael with a calm and rational explanation. He had an older brother, so he was bound to understand that being dictated to by an older brother was stifling, difficult. He just needed to tell Walter it was a minor accident, assure him she was capable, and then Walter would settle his nerves and get off his high horse about her attending the suffragist meetings. The only thing that stuck in her craw was what Michael was going to require for his cooperation. She didn’t believe he would help her out of the goodness of his heart. Men always wanted something in return.
Once she reached Michael’s livery, she set the brake and jumped to the ground. Bundled up from the crisp air as she was, the heat from the forge billowed out the wide-open doors and caused her to sweat. Snow hadn’t fallen in days, but there was no shortage of it and more was bound to fall soon. With Christmas just a few days away, she hoped it would be a white one. It wouldn’t be the same without it.
Marie tied the horse to the hitching post and hurried toward the door labeled Office. She didn’t see Michael, but considering the doors were open and flames rose from the forge, he was bound to be around there somewhere. She couldn’t imagine a blacksmith leaving a fire burning without being close by. There was too much fire danger these days, and although it was cold, buildings could easily go up in smoke.
She briskly knocked on the door, her misty breath crystallizing in the frigid air, and impatiently stomped her feet when no one answered the office door. Where was he? She knocked again, her patience wearing thin. This was ridiculous. As she reached for the door handle, it flew open, causing her to gasp with alarm.
“I’m coming,” Michael said, his voice irritated. “Oh, it’s you. I was in the back.”
“Can we talk?”
