Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) (37 page)

Bear released his death grip, straightened, and with fists clenched at his sides, waited for the man to stand. “Get up!”

The fellow sucked in some much needed air and then used the barrel to help him to stand. He should have stayed down. Bear’s fist struck him so hard he went flying into a sizable patch of mud and slush, his nose probably broken.

Sam just watched from atop his horse, enjoying this along with the laughing crowd.

Bear stood snarling over the rider for a minute, his glowering eyes boring holes in the man.

The fool was wise enough not to move. Or, more likely, he was just knocked out. Sam rode closer to see for himself. The cheating idiot was indeed out cold.

When they realized Bear could discipline the man no further, Sam said, “He’s punished well enough. Let’s go congratulate our winners.”

“Aye, I guess ye’re right,” Bear said, regaining his composure a bit. “Thank God she was na hurt. If she’d fallen, I’d have killed this bloody bastard.”

They both stared down at the man. Sam nodded his head in agreement. “He is indeed bloody, now. And I would concur, he is a bastard. Now, let’s go!” he insisted. He wanted to leave before the man woke up and Bear’s chastisement continued. Further punishment could be lethal.

Bear remounted and they made their way over to the judges.

One of the judges ushered the top three riders into a large half-circle made from old barrels. Each barrel was painted with a large letter of the town’s name—HARRODSBURG.

Stephen, Artis, and the racer who rode the horse she had called Messenger all sat atop their panting mounts, grinning and waving. Messenger’s rider graciously shook Stephen’s hand and congratulated him, and then spoke to Artis for a moment.

The cheering and clapping crowd grew larger by the minute as people who’d watched the race hurried toward them on foot, in wagons, and mounted on horses. As Sam watched, it looked like a stampede, but they all managed to peaceably find a place.

William and Kelly pulled their mounts alongside Sam and Bear. To Sam’s surprise, his four men also joined them. They all exchanged greetings and the hands reported that they’d enjoyed their holiday. Garvin said they would be heading back to the horse farm right after the awards were presented.

When most of the people had gathered about, a horn blared to quiet everyone.

Thornbird shouted out, declaring Stephen the winner by a nose. The crowd cheered and Thornbird reached up with Stephen’s winnings and a brass medal that hung from a blue ribbon. “Well done!” Thornbird said. “We’ll want to learn more about your magnificent steed’s breeding later today.”

Stephen extended his hand and shook the man’s hand before taking the match purse and medal.

Sam could practically see the herd of cows Stephen was undoubtedly picturing in his mind as he felt the weight of the pouch in his hand. Smiling, his black-clad brother sat proudly atop George, his back ram-rod straight. Stephen put the ribbon over his head and around his neck. The winner’s medal fell onto his brother’s broad chest. The still panting stallion’s chest and legs were splattered heavily with slush and mud, much of it
undoubtedly kicked up by Glasgow’s hooves.

Then, Thornbird moved to stand in front of Artis and Glasgow.

Tired, the stallion’s head drooped a little, but Artis held her head high. She folded her gloved hands in front of her and smiled down at the man. Even though she placed second, she looked ecstatically happy, fully alive, and filled with pride.

Sam couldn’t see Thornbird’s face, but the man seemed to give Artis an enthusiastic nod and then glanced over his shoulder at Sam and Bear. He nodded woodenly to them and then turned back to Artis.

“Congratulations, Mrs. MacKay. You have placed a close second in this match. You and your horse ran exceptionally well.” He handed her the second place medal hanging on a red ribbon. “We apologize for the mishap that occurred because of the dishonorable rider. He is hereby banned from future races in Harrodsburg. However, we hope you will certainly join us again.”

“Aye. I would be delighted,” Artis said, accepting the medal and putting the ribbon around her neck and under her wind-blown hair. The ribbon and the reddish-gold tendrils loosened on her ride framed her smiling face.

In a loud voice, Thornbird continued. “Because of that foolish man’s actions, the race committee has decided to award a purse to the second place winner as well. It is not as much as we would like to give you Mrs. MacKay, but it is all we have left from the entry fees.” He reached up and placed some coins in her gloved hand.

When Artis opened her palm, her eyes grew wide at the gold and silver sparkling in the sun.

Sam glanced over at Bear. His brother was watching in smug delight and grinning from one ear to the other, happy for his courageous wife. Today, Artis made history. And a memory they would all long remember.

After Thornbird congratulated the third-place winner, who received only a handshake, he made his way through the throng of well-wishers over
to Sam and Bear, still sitting on their horses.

“I owe you both an apology, Sirs,” he told Bear and Sam. “Mrs. MacKay is an excellent equestrian and her horse is magnificent, just as you said.”

“Na apology is needed,” Bear said. “But we will let ye buy us a pint at the tavern where we met ye.”

“I’ll be there within the half-hour,” Thornbird said. “Your family’s drinks are on me.” With that, he marched off to join the other judges.

They all dismounted when Artis and Stephen rode over to them and got off their horses as well.

Bear gave Artis a huge hug and raised her up off the ground above his head. “Ye showed ‘em what a Scots woman can do!”

“No, Bear,” Kelly said. “What any woman can do,
if
she has the courage and skill that Artis displayed.”

“Only if aided by a magnificent steed such as Glasgow!” Artis declared.

Sam’s men all congratulated Stephen and Artis. Stephen asked that, when they got home, they not tell Jane and the others about the race’s outcome. Stephen wanted to tell Jane himself. The four men soon bid them all goodbye and left.

Stephen was still understandably buoyant. “I told you George would win!”

“Aye, ye did,” Bear said. “But yer both winners as far as I’m concerned. If that idjit had not tried to slow Artis down, she may have won.”

Sam smiled, agreeing that man was a fool, although the Scot’s term ‘idjit’ seemed more apt and more suitable for some reason. But more importantly, Stephen and Artis were both winners.

“Nevertheless, I’m happy for ye too, Stephen,” Bear said. He gave Stephen a congratulatory slap on the back, causing their brother to lurch
forward. Bear often forgot his own strength.

“Ye deserved the win, Stephen. Congratulations! But I plan to beat ye next year,” Artis challenged.

“Thank you,” Stephen said. “He stealthily handed Sam the coin pouch containing his winnings and took his jacket back. Putting the coat on, he said, “Hold onto that for me will you. I would hate for someone to pickpocket me.”

Sam weighed the pouch in his hand. “Feels like about fifty head of cows to me.”

Chapter 38

T
hat afternoon at the tavern, Sam counted at least a dozen requests from various men to have their mares bred by either George or Glasgow. The horse owners didn’t care which. When Stephen and Bear explained that they were all leaving for home soon, each groaned with disappointment.

“How about tonight?” one persistent man asked. “I think my mare is in season.”

Both Stephen and Bear declined saying their stallions had earned a good rest.

Sam and his brothers were waiting at the tavern for Artis and Kelly to join them. After hastily eating a small meal, the two women had rushed back to their rooms to get cleaned up and dressed for the ball, saying they would need at least two hours to get ready.

“I can na wait to see my Artis with her hair done up and dressed in her fancy gown again,” Bear said. “Besides the gown we got married in, she never wears anything fancy. She prefers keepin’ it simple. But she had one made recently. The blue one she wore on Christmas day.”

“She looked lovely in it,” William said, “and like Kelly, she will look like an angel.”

Bear swallowed his last bite of apple pie. “Artis did look like an angel
today, didn’t she? She was nearly flyin’ up that track on Glasgow!”

“And I’m sure you will keep her soaring over the dance floor tonight,” William said. “You should have seen Bear at their wedding, Sam. He’s actually a first-rate dancer.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised in skepticism. “Bear? A dancer?”

“Indeed,” William confirmed. “He and Artis out danced them all at the Governor’s wife’s ball in Boonesborough.”

Kentuckians loved to step all manner of dances from formal minuets to reels, country dances, and rough and tumble jigs. But without Catherine, he wasn’t looking forward to attending this ball. It would be held in the militia’s normally austere dining room. The tables would be cleared away and the ladies of the town would undoubtedly transform the space into a festively decorated ballroom.

Outside, the Twelfth Day celebrations continued. The festival included games, foot races, wrestling contests, horse races, and itinerant magicians. The occasion would culminate with the Twelfth Day ball early that evening. But none of it held much appeal for Sam. He was still faced with questioning Dixon and confirming that Catherine’s father wanted him dead. Sam had to know why. He decided to get it over with.

After they finished eating, he told William, “Take me to the jail. It’s time I questioned Dixon.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” William asked, draining his mug of the last drop of ale.

“No, I plan to leave at daybreak. It’s a long ride home and the sooner I leave, the sooner I can be back,” Sam said. “All of you can stay longer if you would like, but I want to get back to Catherine and my sons.” It felt good to say sons instead of son. He hoped God would bless them with many more.

“Bear, Stephen, if I’m not back by the time she comes down, keep an eye on Kelly for me,” William told them.

“Of course,” Stephen said.

“Aye, she’ll be well guarded,” Bear answered.

“Sam, I’d also like to go back tomorrow,” Stephen said. “I can’t wait to tell Jane my good news.”

Sam stood. “How about you two?” he asked, looking down at first William and then Bear.

“Let us talk to Kelly and Artis before we decide,” William said.

“Ye always were a wise man!” Bear said, and took a long swallow of his ale.

Sam left with William who led him to the jail, located in one of the fort’s four blockhouses. It took Sam’s eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light after they entered the sheriff’s windowless office. A small oil lamp on the sheriff’s desk was the only source of light.

“Sheriff Wyllie!” the man said, standing. “I was hoping you would stop by after the race. Congratulations to your brother on his win.”

“Thank you, Sheriff Dunn,” William said. “This is my older brother Captain Sam Wyllie.”

“It is an honor to meet you, Captain,” Dunn said, extending his hand. “William has told me of your wartime heroics.”

“William talks too much,” Sam said, giving his brother a side-long glance, and gripping the sheriff’s rough hand. “Are you any relation to the Dunn at the inn?”

“Yes, he’s my older brother,” the sheriff answered.

“I am here to question Mr. Dixon, one of your prisoners,” Sam told him.

“I figured as much. He’s here, impatiently awaiting his day in court next week,” Dunn said. “I’ll take you to his cell. Do you want me to keep a record of his answers, as I did for Sheriff Wyllie?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Sam answered.

“Do you want to speak to Crowell as well?” Dunn asked. “He’s on the
other side of the jail. I’m keeping them separated to keep Dixon from influencing Crowell.”

“That’s a good idea,” William said.

“No, I just need to speak to Dixon,” Sam said. “Crowell just does whatever Dixon says. Let’s get this over with.”

“I can take him to Dixon,” William volunteered.

“All right. I’ll get back to my paperwork then,” Dunn said.

“I know what that’s like,” William said sympathetically.

Dunn turned back to them. “Dixon’s feet are in shackles, but his hands are free. He smelled so atrocious, I had to give him a couple buckets of water and some soap to wash with. I gave him some of my brother’s old clothes too. They’re about the same size. When he finished, my deputy put the shackles back on his ankles while I stood guard.”

“He was pretty rank when I left him here,” William agreed. “But be careful, Dixon is as slick as egg whites. He already escaped once.”

Dunn nodded his head in agreement. “After I learned what he did to your family, I wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire.”

Sam had to agree.

When he set eyes on Dixon again, they stared at each other across a sudden resounding silence. No one even moved for a moment.

Dixon’s cold eyes told him the man was not the least bit remorseful.

“Well, well. If it’s not the mighty Captain,” Dixon finally said, his tone both rude and mocking.

The defiant look in Dixon’s eyes only incensed Sam more.

“You told my brother here some interesting things,” he said.

“I’m glad you found it interesting,” Dixon replied. “Personally, I think it’s a rather unhappy story. But the ending is yet to be written.”

“Just what do you mean by that?” William challenged.

Dixon stood and faced Sam. “I know my methods of trying to persuade you were, in retrospect, regrettable. Please accept my apologies for all three incidences.”

The man’s words came too easily, too smoothly. Sam struggled to suppress his anger. “Your man aiming a pistol at my face might be considered an incident. But I’d say kidnapping a child and abducting a woman are far more than an
incident
. Your crimes were despicable and serious offenses.
”

“All I can do is ask for your forgiveness. I had hoped that was why you came,” Dixon said, “to accept my apology. I had told Sheriff Wyllie that I would apologize.”