A Contract Bride's Triple Surprise (27 page)

“I don’t have any ideas,” replied Nevin. “Gillis bolts from the kitchen right after supper unless Hope calls for him. Then he skedaddles away as soon as she’s asleep. I see him watching Amelia during the day. He still misses Prudence, but he wants Amelia. He just won’t admit it. Something’s got to force him to wake up, but I don’t know what.”

They rode on for a while.

“Amelia gets nightmares about the fire,” said Ross. “Ever since she started using the stove.”

“I haven’t noticed anything.”

“It happened when you were at Trace’s the other night. You know how I go out for a walk in the night. I came back and found her moaning and shaking, muttering about fire. She stopped when I held her. She didn’t remember in the morning, and I didn’t say anything.”

“Did you see her when Auntie asked her to stoke up the fire before supper yesterday? Her face went so white I thought she’d faint.”

“And?”

“She gritted her teeth, opened the door, and tossed in a log. But she shook the whole time. Right after, she went out to the privy. She didn’t come back for some time.”

“If Tillie and Auntie weren’t there, she’d have to cook. That would bring on the nightmares.” Ross nodded. “That would work.”

“What are you getting at?”

“If only Gil and Amelia were home and she got a nightmare, there’d be no one else to comfort her.”

Nevin’s smile took a while to arrive while he thought over the implications. “Good idea. How?”

“How long since you’ve been to Virginia City?”

“Since I saw Ace win the Double Diamond off Smythe. Too long. Why?”

“Amelia’s arranged for some fancy doctor to look at Daniel. She thinks he can sew up his hare lip so the boy can at least close his mouth. It hurts her that he turns away, like a dog ashamed to eat in the same room with his master.”

“If we bring Danny boy with us, Gil will have to take care of the women.”

“Just Amelia. Auntie and Tilly are taking the babies to the camas digging. They’ll be gone at least a couple of weeks.”

Nevin rubbed his stomach, grinning. “Fresh, sweet camas! One of my favorite times of the year.”

“You want to show off your hunting skills to the pretty girls.”

“And what’s wrong with that? You did the same. I saw a lot of girls dig heaping piles of those roots, hoping you’d notice what good wives they’d make. You broke their hearts when you refused to look at any of them,” he joked.

Ross winced. His horse jockeyed around until he calmed it. “The elders would not have allowed it,” he stated. He pointed west. “We’d better check out that herd.”

Nevin opened his mouth to speak and then nodded. Ross would talk when he was ready. One thing he knew about his older brother was that the man was stubborn.

“You never told me why,” said Nevin an hour later, his patience exhausted. Ross didn’t acknowledge the question, but his shoulders tightened. His horse shied at the tension, dancing sideways until Ross calmed him. He pressed his lips tight.

They rode for hours looking for predators, counting the branded cattle. As the sun dropped toward the west, they headed home. A family of ravens paced them, strangely silent. Finally, Ross spoke.

“A girl died. I was at fault. I was banished from the People.”

“Was that when you came back?”

Ross, face turned away, nodded his head.

“Dammit, Ross. You weren’t much older than Daniel! How could you be at fault?”

“A girl died because of me. Badly. It didn’t matter how old I was. Those are the laws of the People.” Ross turned his horse aside.

Nevin let him leave. He shut his mouth and set his brain to work. When big brother Ross returned he was no longer the helpful older brother. He was withdrawn and angry.

Ross learned a lot from their Bannock and Shoshone relatives in the years he was gone. When he returned and Hugh started beating on him as usual, Ross put an arrow into the flesh of his ass. Nothing to kill him, but painful and very, very humiliating. Everyone but Pa, Fin, and Hugh thought it was fitting. But once again, Ross was sent away. This time, to the Elliotts. Ever since, he’d had that one-step-removed attitude, as if his time on the earth was short and he had only one purpose in living.

Nevin now knew that purpose was revenge. Against whom, how, or exactly why, he neither knew or cared. His brother, part of his Clan and Tribe, needed him. He followed Ross, easily catching up.

“Gillis said something about you needing revenge. I can help,” said Nevin quietly.

“Don’t need any help.”

Nevin shrugged. “Maybe I need to help you.”

“Help by caring for Amelia while I’m gone.”

Nevin understood Ross’s attitude. If a man had a problem, he solved it. Alone. Ross had had a hell of a time growing up and had every reason to be mad at the world. But Nevin’s skin was the same color. Their children’s would be as well.

Instead of butting heads at every opportunity like Ross, Nevin had learned to get along by being easygoing. He kept the peace by giving in when he had to. Ross, on the other hand, would fight to the death before he’d give an inch. Nev didn’t have as many scars as his older brother, both inside and out, but he had enough.

“Raven, I’m your brother Bear. You left right after to taught me to ride a pony. I remember waiting for the first snow, for you to come home for the winter. You were my hero. An older brother who looked like me. Someone tough, who stood at my back.”

“You’re welcome,” replied Ross with sarcasm. “But I don’t need you.”

“Dammit, if I’m good enough to share your wife, why can’t I share your pain? Why can’t I help you do whatever you need to be whole again?”

Though Nevin shouted the words, Ross gave no notice. He nudged his horse. After a moment, Nevin followed. They rode in silence until almost home. Finally, Ross sighed.

“I need to kill three men. One has the bottom of his nose slit from a knife. The other has old powder burns past his cheekbones.”

“What about the third?”

“My raven attacked him. He’s got deep cuts on his head, but thick hair and a hat would cover them.”

“What did they do?”

“They took what they wanted from a girl and rode away laughing.” Ross clenched his jaw, blinking rapidly. “She slit the first one’s nose with her knife, but he knocked her out. I was too late to save her. I killed one when he came back for more. The other three escaped. For now.”

“Aw, shit.” Nevin closed his eyes, realizing what they’d done.

“She was our cousin, Nev.” His voice broke. “Nine years old.” He kicked his horse. The beast, startled at the unusual treatment, snorted and stormed away. The ravens, shrieking, chased after.

Nevin pulled on his reins, stopping his horse. After a minute, it leaned down to crop the grass.

“You’ve kept this inside for too long, brother Raven.” Nevin slid his feet out of the stirrups and dismounted. He stretched out his legs, cramped from being in the saddle so long. He kicked a mound of dirt. “Why?” He smashed the next mound with his other foot. “Why didn’t you trust me?”

An image of what must be burned into Ross’s brain hit Nevin. The little girl, covered by one man after the other while Ross raced down the mountain as fast as his legs could go. Too small and far away to stop it. Somehow, Ross had killed one of them, but the other three escaped.

Nevin groaned and fell to his knees. Jessamine Elliott was six months older than him and the toughest girl he’d ever met. What if he was Daniel’s age and was unable to stop four men from raping and murdering Jessie? How could he live, knowing what she’d gone through?

Revenge would be the only thing to keep him going.

So much made sense now. Why Ross wouldn’t pay for a woman, even one of Lily’s eager girls. Why he made regular sweeps into the nearby towns, hanging out in grungy bars pretending to drink bad whiskey while he listened to the talk.

Nevin staggered to his feet. He cursed, wiping away tears of rage with the back of his hand. The three men deserved to die as they had killed. Slowly, painfully, and in terror. The type of men who’d do that to a child wouldn’t stop with just one. How many other girls and women had they destroyed just because they could?

His right hand flexed, eager for his gun.

No. That was too easy for raping scum. He’d tie them up and gag them. Let them watch him put a branding iron into the fire. He’d tell them exactly what he planned to do with that iron. He’d start slow, burning right through the front of their pants.

As a finishing touch, perhaps he’d go medieval, like Vlad the Impaler. He’d roll them over a log, face down. He’d let the branding iron cool a bit so it wouldn’t cauterize and kill the nerve endings. He wanted them to feel everything. He’d take that iron rod and shove it up their—

Nevin’s smile came slowly, and it was not a pleasant one. Ross would appreciate his idea. Maybe he’d add a few extras with his knife. Just thinking about what would happen when they caught the men made him feel better.

First, they had to catch them. He looked forward to Virginia City even more now.

He whistled for his horse. The mare took her time, being an ornery female. He shook out his body and set his mind to war. He’d heard a few things about the man with the cut nose. He liked to attack Indians, preferably when alone and defenseless. Lately, there’d been rumors of him hanging around the area.

He mounted up and turned toward home. Ross wanted to go to Virginia City for more than Daniel’s lip and Gillis’s need for Amelia’s comfort. There’d be two MacDougal devils on this manhunt. No, they weren’t men. They were corpses burning in hell. They just didn’t know it yet.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Not bad for an old man,” said Simon to Gillis after the axe slammed down on another piece of wood. The noise hadn’t stopped since he arrived with Beth for a short visit.

“Are ye here to flap yer jaws, or te work?”

“Seems you got the work covered.” Simon looked at the chunks of wood strewn around the chopping block. “Where’s your helper?”

“Ross is tellin’ the laddie aboot yer trip. Ye man enough te replace him?”

Accepting the challenge, Simon strolled over to the woodshed and looked in. Neat rows lined the back end from floor to ceiling. The last row was only waist high. He walked up the plank, grabbed the waiting wheelbarrow, and wheeled it out of the shed.

As usual, Simon whistled as he worked. Gillis muttered while Simon picked up the split logs and set them in the wooden barrow. He took his time in the woodshed, placing each log just so, knowing Gillis had to get up a head of steam before he’d blow.

“Fine! Ye came here for a reason. Tell it and go.” Gillis’s bare chest heaved as he hauled air into his lungs. He stood straight and brushed chips of wood off his chest hair.

“I have a message for you. From Prue.”

Gillis set his jaw and clenched his hand around the axe handle. His eyes narrowed.

“Dinna play with me, lad. I thrashed ye afore, and I’ll gladly do it again.”

Simon opened up his vest and pulled a small book out of an inner pocket. He held it in the air like a preacher would a Bible.

“Prue wrote something in this for you. She told Beth to show it to you when it was time.” He held it out. “Beth says it’s time.”

Gillis stood like an ancient Celtic statue, axe in hand. Simon knew Gil could easily kill him if he went berserk. With or without the weapon.

“Time for what?”

“Time to join the living again. This is Beth’s diary. She marked the pages for you. The first is from before Christmas and the second just before Hope was born.”

Gillis shook his head slowly. “I’ll nae read a woman’s private journal.”

“That’s what Beth said.” He opened the book and cleared his throat. “
Lovely visit with Prue today. She’s blossoming well. We pray every night for the babe’s safe arrival.
” Simon nodded. “We did. Got down on our knees, the four of us, and prayed that Hope would be born safe. We didn’t know it was going to be Hope, of course, but—”

“Say what ye must and leave.”

“
Once again, Prue spoke of her concern for Gillis once she’s gone. She wants him to be strong for her and to love Amelia. She wants me to tell them that she approves of Amelia sharing her bed as I do
.”

Simon licked his finger and flipped forward many pages before looking up. “There’s a blank page on one side before this, and someone else’s writing. Do you want me to read what your wife wrote to you?”

“Can I stop ye?”

“No.”

“Get it over with.” He clenched and unclenched his fists.

Simon turned to the previous page. “It’s personal, Gil. Are you sure?”

Gil cursed. He yanked the axe out of the block and almost fell on the seat. He held the axe in both hands like a warrior eager to attack. He glared at Simon then dropped his head.

“Prudence writes so tiny I canna read her letters. Read it to me, cousin. I’ll try not to take your head off.”

The last sentence was said with a touch of humor. Simon cleared his throat. Now that he felt his life wasn’t in immediate danger, he walked closer so he could lower his voice.