Chapter 3

Pauline fidgeted in her seat while Mary Anne struggled to tame her wild locks enough to braid her hair for bed.  Her mother agitatedly paced the room behind her.

“There’s something that man is not telling us,” Josephine said with knitted brows.  “I can feel it.”

“Then, call off the wedding,” Pauline said as she shrunk away from Mary Anne’s ministrations and placed her hand on her head where her hair had been pulled too hard.  

“Good try,” Josephine said as she unceremoniously yanked the brush from Mary Anne and tackled the tangled mop on Pauline’s head with gusto. “Have you been using the coconut rinse I purchased for your hair?”

“I hate the smell of coconut,” Pauline whined.

“I should think you’d prefer it to going through this every single night,” Josephine spat.

“Ouch!  Mother, please give the brush back to Mary Anne,” Pauline begged.  “You’re hurting me.”

Josephine sighed and handed the brush back to the lady’s maid. “I’m sorry, my dear girl.  It’s just that I’m certain Mr. Kennedy is keeping something from us and I want to know what it is.  Did you see the way he avoided talking about his family every time your father brought them up?”

“Not everyone has a good relationship with their parents, mother,” Pauline said with a sigh.

“Did you know he comes from wealth?” Josephine added as if she hadn’t heard Pauline’s comment.  “Why would a man who was raised in gentle society walk away from his family legacy to become a body guard and a gunslinger? It’s my understanding that he’s the only heir.  I would think he’d return to Ireland and claim his inheritance and title from his father.  I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but it was odd the way his mother and siblings came over, but his father stayed behind.”

“Is he truly a gunslinger?” Pauline asked enthusiastically.

“From what I understand, he’s fast with a gun,” Josephine said.

“So, he shoots well,” Pauline chuckled. “I should think that would be a bonus in a body guard.”

“Did you know his skills are for hire?” Josephine continued.

“I would imagine he’s being paid to fetch me, mother,” Pauline said patiently.  “Unless you charmed him into carrying me off to the slaughter house out of the goodness of his heart.”

“I’ll have you know, young lady, that your father and I never laid eyes on one another until the day of our wedding. It’s considered wise to allow your parents to find a suitable match for you to assure your security and happiness in life,” Josephine hissed.

“If I’m not mistaken, it isn’t my happiness father has in mind,” Pauline drawled.

“I’ll hear no more of this.  We have only a few more days together before Mr. Kennedy whisks you off to meet your future husband. I’d like them to be pleasant days, if you don’t mind.”

“Why do I have to go to him?  Why isn’t he coming to me? Do you even know what Angus McCann looks like?” Pauline practically screeched.  “All I know is that he’s old and dresses like a cowboy.”

“Of course, he dresses like a cowboy,” Josephine snapped. “He owns one of the most prosperous ranches in Texas.  As for his looks… well… be grateful he’s not handsome.  A husband with looks and money is a dangerous combination.  You’ll find you won’t have to worry about unscrupulous females competing for your husband’s pockets if he’s less than desirable to look at.”

“Doesn’t it bother you in the least that he’s more your age than mine?” Pauline asked with teary eyes.

Josephine looked startled by her daughter’s remark.  In her day, it was considered desirable to marry your daughter off to a man of advanced years.  It was those advanced years that allowed him to acquire the means to keep her in comfort and style.  There was also the possibility of the husband leaving her to enjoy the remainder of her life as a free, young, and wealthy widow. Marrying for love was a rarity, so the prospect of being left a wealthy young widow was a desirable thing.  She found it difficult to believe that her daughter did not understand that.

“Are you going to sit there and tell me that you would rather marry a penniless young upstart than a well to do man of advanced years?” Josephine gasped.

“I just wish he looked like Aiden Kennedy, but had Angus McCann’s money,” Pauline sighed.  “That’s all.”

“That only happens in fairy tales, my darling daughter,” Josephine said as she placed a light kiss on Pauline’s forehead.

“Didn’t you say Mr. Kennedy came from money?” Pauline asked wistfully.

“Mr. Kenney does not have the Bar J&K Ranch,” Josephine said with a sigh as she left the room.

Pauline pulled the waist length braid that Mary Anne finished binding with a ribbon over her left breast and stared at herself in the mirror. “What I wouldn’t give to have my future husband be Aiden Kennedy.”

“Is he really handsome?” Mary Anne asked.  Now that Josephine was out of the room, she could relax and be the friend to Pauline that she’d become over the years.

“I’m sure I’m in love,” Pauline said as she fell across the bed on her back.  “He has blue eyes that encompass you when he looks at you. It’s like he’s looking deep inside to your soul. It’s mesmerizing. His hair is a beautiful sun-streaked brown that he wears in an ‘I don’t care’ kind of fashion. It suits his personality.”

“Is he tall?” Mary Anne asked as she sprawled across the bed next to Pauline.

“I felt small when he stood next to me, yet safe. He has big, broad shoulders and slender hips,” Pauline sighed.

“You looked at his hips?” Mary Anne giggled.

Pauline giggled back and confessed that she watched him put his gun belt on before he donned his coat and hat.  She was completely smitten by the handsome and dangerous gunslinger, Aiden Kennedy, and totally disheartened that she was being married off to a Texas toad.

She asked Mary Anne to wake her early enough to slip out of the house before anyone was awake.  She found solace while fishing in the creek.  She wanted to return to there in the morning to be alone and think. She’d been lucky to have a good catch.  Maybe it would happen again. A good catch always helped lighten her mood.