of wind snatched Emma’s skirt. The satin snapped and twisted. Out over the plains, dust began to stir. Cowboys would be herding their beeves toward the shelter of gullies and shallow hills. In another ten minutes a man wouldn’t be able to see his own boots.
“Darlin’.” Already Matt had to raise his voice to be heard over the moan of the wind. “Unhitch Thunder and Pearl. Take them over to that rise and see if you can find the dugout. Call out if there’s still a door on it.”
Matt took the canvas cover off the wagon without looking at it. He kept his gaze on the blur of Emma’s gown. For now he could see it, but in a minute or two she could blow all the way back to Dodge and he wouldn’t know it.
“I found it!” Luckily her voice blew right at him. “There’s no door!”
He hadn’t expected a door. “Go inside, yell if there’s enough room for the other horses!” He wasn’t sure if she heard his voice, but the half-obscured glow of her gown vanished, telling him that she had gone inside.
Matt leaped up on the wagon, praying that his bride was a sensible sort and had brought along a few tools.
“There’s room and more, Mr. Suede.”
Emma’s voice came from the rear wheel of the wagon.
“Hell, ma’am, what are you doing out here? You should have stayed put, where it was safe.”
“You don’t expect me to stay inside while my goods blow to kingdom come?”
“That’s just what I expect.” Matt hopped down from the wagon. “Here, take hold of my arm and don’t let go.”
Matt gripped the team’s reins and with the wagon in tow, made slow progress toward the dugout tucked into the hillside.
Praise be that the trip from town hadn’t taken a few minutes longer. The last thing he needed was to be caught out in a sandstorm with a defenseless woman who fancied herself capable of living in the wild with a blind horse as her protector.
Emma had taken only a few steps, with her skirts tangling about her shins, before she started to cough. She’d never known a wind that could steal the breath right out of a body. Sand and grit stung her face, forcing her to close her eyes. Thank goodness Mr. Suede had a strong arm to clutch onto.
“Stand still a minute, darlin’.” A cloth smelling like dust and hardworking male came across her face. She felt Matt Suede’s fingers at the back of her head, tying a knot in it.
She took a deep, sand-free breath, with her new husband leading the way toward the dugout. She couldn’t see, but she felt safer beside this big, solid man.
Matt let go of the horses and led her inside. She took the bandanna from her face and shook it out. Even with her eyes uncovered, she couldn’t see Pearl or Thunder at the far end of the cavelike home.
With no door on the dugout, the wind whipped inside, swirling and moaning off the walls.
“Mr. Suede, are you in here?” No answer. What could have happened to him? “Mr. Suede?”
“I’ll be along.” His words came out coughed more than spoken. “Stay inside.”
Emma heard the jingling of a harness just beyond the opening to the soddie. She took four dust-blinded steps outside before she ran smack into his vest.
“Hell, woman, I thought I told you to stay inside.”
“You’ll need this.” Emma felt for his face. Her fingers touched his unshaven cheek. She tied the bandanna around it. “And you can’t tell me what to do.”
Leather snapped, metal jingled and Matt Suede pulled her and the rented team into the dugout.
He yanked the bandanna off his face. If she stared hard, she could make out his features in the dark. He didn’t look pleased.
“Didn’t you vow before God and Mrs. Sizeloff to obey your husband?”
“You are not my husband, not really.”
“Do I have to frame that marriage license and hang it on the wall?”
The wind slapped Matt Suede’s shirtsleeves against his arms. It whirled the dirt on the floor, making it dance about his boots.
“Did you bring any tools or lamps in the wagon?”
“Yes, of course. I’m not a half-wit.”
He gave her a long stare through the gloom.
“If you tell me where they are I’ll tack the canvas over the doorway. We’ll be able to light a lamp.”
“You won’t be able to get to them. They’re in the bottom crate toward the front.”
He yanked the bandanna over his nose and turned to go out. She caught his arm.
“Please stay inside—we’ll get by until the wind lets up.”
“It could turn bitter cold.”
“I’ve been cold before. It never lasts.”
Emma felt her way to a corner of the room. The wind was quiet here, but he had been right about the cold. The temperature seemed to be dropping by the second. She sat down in the dirt and drew her knees up to her chest.
This ought to finish off her hard-earned gown. She had hoped to sell it after today, but there was no chance for that now. Still, the fabric might be salvaged for curtains when the day came that she had windows to put them in.
She heard Matt settle into the corner across from her.
Thank glory for the darkness. She couldn’t bear it if he saw the way her shoulders shook with cold and disappointment. How would she ever make her dream come true now? Had she saved ever so long to end up in a cave? Oh, the tales she’d spun for herself and Pearl.
She did have land, though. Some of it turned to mud on her face while quiet tears slipped down her cheeks.
Boot steps thumped on the packed floor. Her husband settled down beside her with one lean thigh brushed up beside hers. He tucked the canvas that had covered the wagon over them both and laid his arm around her shoulder.
“I believe that since we’re wed, I’ll start to call you Emma.”
The chill that had made her tremble faded under his hand rubbing briskly up and down her arm.
“Since that’s the case, I’ll call you Matt.”
“Darlin’, what made you want to come to this wild place all on your own?” His hand slowed until the rub softened to a caress. The caress tugged her up tight against his chest. “It’s a bold thing for a little lady to do.”
Warmth flooded her until she felt liquid rather than jittery. “I thought you were going to call me Emma.”
“That’s exactly what I’m calling you. Emma, darlin’, why’d you do it?”
“I
