Caress of Fire by Martha Hix

is something you need to–”
    â€œEnough talk. ‘Yes’ is all I’ll accept.”
    Again he cut around Willensstark and brought Lisette into his arms, this time to hush her protests. He would do everything in his power to make theirs a real marriage. Furthermore, he was not going to lollygag in making it real.

Chapter Six
    At dusk, the Four Aces outfit made camp about eight miles northeast of the site of the predawn Comanche raid. Matthias Gruene chose not to appear at supper, and his decision had little to do with anxieties over having watched Lisette struggle all day with the chuck wagon and its team.
    Being a loner by nature and especially by present circumstance, the strawboss plodded across the open range and tried to collect his wits. Impossible. He felt as if a tomahawk had rent his chest. McLoughlin was going to take Lisette to wife–tonight.
    Behaving like a Dummkopf instead of a man of twenty-three, he hadn’t protested when the Scotsman had asked for help in gaining Lisette’s acquaintance. Matthias had figured nothing would come of the situation, Adolf being the way he was.
    He should have known McLoughlin wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.
    Right now Matthias could have smashed the trail boss’s face . . . and might before the wedding even began. He had always been fond of Lisette–overly fond of Lisette–and her happiness meant a lot.
    How could he stop her foolishness?
    He hurried back to camp. His fellow cowboys weren’t crowded around the fire. Maybe they too were shocked at the upcoming marriage. They couldn’t be as surprised as I am. Maybe his colleagues weren’t shocked in the least, since they were eager for a good cook; so eager, in fact, that the cowherds had been on their good behavior. Probably McLoughlin ordered them away.
    He was good at shouting commands.
    The trail boss, Matthias noted, stood away from camp, huddled with the preacher. He quelled the urge to provoke a fight; Lisette was the one he needed to convince not to go through with the plans.
    Matthias sought her out. The supper dishes washed and put away, she was tidying up the chuck box, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary would occur in the next few minutes.
    Her hair flowing freely down her back; she wore the dead Willie Gaines’s britches and shirt. Matthias recalled how, as a boy, he used to yank on her braids. As a man, he’d always wanted to touch those silky strands, but he hadn’t been brave enough to make a bid for her hand.
    Matthias didn’t stand on ceremony when he reached her side. “Rather an abrupt courtship, wouldn’t you say?”
    â€œDesperate times lead to desperate measures.”
    He studied her. From the grim set of her mouth, from the rigidity of her back, he knew she’d go through with the marriage. Which didn’t mean he shouldn’t show some courage.
    â€œYou aren’t in dire enough straits to sell out on your dream.” He stepped closer. “Lise, you don’t have to marry the Scotsman. I’ll take you away from here.”
    â€œIf you’d offered yesterday, I would have accepted.”
    â€œI didn’t think it would come to this.”
    â€œMatthias, you know he wanted to court me. I’ve accepted his proposal, and I won’t look back.”
    If he’d known she wanted marriage, he would have offered it; thus, there would have been no need for her to take flight from Fredericksburg.
    Take flight . . .
    He could abscond with her . . .
    But what could he offer except protection? His worldly goods filled less than one duffel bag, his pocket held nothing but five measly dollars. Even his horse held the Four Aces brand. At a time he should have been collecting wealth, he’d been fighting Mister Lincoln’s war. When it was over, he’d returned to a state struggling for economic survival. And the laughing blonde hadn’t been the same girl he’d left