Here Comes the Bride (22 page)

Tess flew up the stairs on featherlight feet, marveling at her good fortune. So maybe she would never have Gabriel to herself. She did have a good friend, a clean place to sleep, and a half decent job. Things could be a lot worse.

And they soon would be.

“I should warn you,” Collette laughed lightly, “Pa will no doubt have a great deal to say about you and I walking to town like this.”

They had walked about a mile or so, the morning air still fresh with dew, when she made this announcement. Tess sighed; she couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble for some reason.

“He doesn’t like you going to town?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s not that, although he would much prefer it if I stayed locked up in my room, I’m sure. He thinks it’s too dangerous for ladies to be out walking on their own.”

“But we’re in the middle of nowhere, for goodness’ sake,” Tess said. “What on earth could happen to us out here? I mean, if we were back in Boston or somewhere like that, I could understand his concern, but what is the worst thing that can happen to us here?”

Collette shrugged jovially. “Bee sting?”

Tess laughed with her as they looped arms. “I can’t imagine there being any crime at all in a town like this.”

“Oh, there’s trouble all right,” Collette said soberly. “That’s what worries me.”

“What do you mean?”

Collette stopped suddenly, pulling Tess back with her.

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Bart,” Collette said, as if that answered any question. When the confusion remained on Tess’s face, Collette continued. “Sheriff Nicholls has offered Bart a job.”

“What?” Tess yelped. “What are you talking about?”

Collette began to walk again. “It seems the sheriff is set on retiring and moving to Amarillo to be near his sister. He asked Bart if he’d consider taking over his duties.”

“What did Bart say?” Tess was thunderstruck.

“He said yes, of course.”

“He what? Is he crazy or something?”

Collette shrugged. “He’s always wanted to be a lawman, Tess, you know that. That’s why he became a bounty hunter.”

“Being a bounty hunter is a far cry from being a sheriff,” Tess said, a little too stiffly.

“Maybe,” Collette agreed, “but it’s either take the sheriff’s job here in Porter Creek or move to Texas and join the Rangers.”

“He wouldn’t!”

“Yes,” Collette answered, chewing her bottom lip. “He would. That’s what he told me, anyway. If he can be sheriff right here, then he can settle down and get married and . . .”

“I thought he was going to work at El Cielo with Gabriel.”

The girl shook her head. “Bart has never had the ranching itch like Gabe. He’s always wanted to be a lawman of some kind.”

“But it’s so dangerous! Even out here where it seems so peaceful . . . I’m sorry, Collette, I’m worrying you more, aren’t I?”

“It’s okay,” Collette sighed. “You’re not saying anything I haven’t already thought myself. But this is what he wants to do, it’s what he has always wanted. Knowing that, how can I ask him to give it up?”

“Oh, Collette,” Tess sighed. “I had no idea. You must be a wreck. Finally, Bart comes home, makes his intentions clear to you, and now this. What will you do?”

“There’s nothing I can do, Tess. Loving Bart means loving all of him. If he didn’t have that need to make things right, he wouldn’t be the Bart I know and love.” She paused, smiling ruefully. “Isn’t it strange how the traits that make me love him so are also the things that make me want to run screaming away from him?”

“Yes.” Tess nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s a strange thing, love.”

“What’s even stranger is Bart being a lawman. No one would have guessed that’s what he wanted when he was a child.” Collette’s smile deepened. “He was a touch wild.”

“So I heard. But he doesn’t seem wild now.”

“No,” Collette said. “He’s finally settling down.”

They walked a moment in silence, each lost in her own thoughts of the infamous Calloway brothers and how, frustrating as it was, they wouldn’t change a thing about either one of them.

“Tell me about Boston,” Collette said suddenly. “What’s it like?”

Tess inhaled deeply. “Boston is a whole other world away,” she said. “It’s nothing like it is here, and yet both places are so wonderful, so enchanting. So scary.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if I can talk about it, Collette. Not yet, anyway. I . . .”

In the recesses of her mind, Tess heard the horse approaching before her ears actually took in the sound. Whatever trouble was coming, it was coming for her. She knew that, knew there was nothing she could do to stop it, and knew in the same instant a small part of her had been expecting it.

The world around her grayed, her knees began to buckle, but before she could fall to the ground, she was scooped up from behind and hauled into the front of a saddle, the smell of stale whiskey warm against her face.

“Hello, Tess,” the thick voice whispered against her hair. “I been lookin’ fer you.”

“Eli Gribbs.” Tess didn’t know if she actually said the name out loud or if her brain had simply yelled it loud enough for her ears to hear.

In the distance, Collette’s cries followed the galloping horse.

“Tess! Tess!” With every passing second, the girl’s voice faded further and further back in the distance.

She tried to straighten herself in the saddle, but Eli held her fast, pulling her tighter against his filth.

“What do you want, Eli?” she asked, struggling against him.

“Well, now,” he sneered. “I want what’s mine, and that means you, don’t it?”

“I don’t belong to you, Eli, so let me go.”

“Can’t do that,” he said, his smelly breath assaulting her senses. “I got the law lookin’ fer me now, and as long as I got me a hostage, they ain’t gonna git their hands on me, are they?”

“Please, Eli,” she pleaded, hating herself for sounding so weak. “If you just turn yourself back into the authorities, I’m sure they will . . .”

“They’ll what? Hang me quicker?” He snorted. “I ain’t gonna hang today, Tess. An’ as long as I got you, I figure I’m safe.”

The jolting of the horse and the horrid stench of Gribbs worked together to make Tess’s head pound inside her skull. She couldn’t let him take her away; she’d never see Gabriel again, she’d never have her own little farm, her own cows, her own . . .

“I been a long time without a woman, Tess, and I mean to fix that right quick like.”

Tess’s spine went rigid; for a moment she thought she would be sick, but she quickly regained her senses and forced herself to think. She couldn’t let him touch her! Heaven help her, what would Gabriel think if another man . . . why would Gabriel care? He didn’t want her.

She quelled the shudder that raced from the base of her spine to her scalp.

“Why don’t you go back to Dottie’s saloon? I’m sure there’s a . . . someone . . . there who would be quite happy to . . . to . . .”

She swallowed hard, unable to push the words out.

Gribbs laughed—a loud, thick, filthy laugh.

“To what Tess? Touch me? Let me . . .” His thick tongue lapped at her earlobe, slurping along her neck as though he were a child with a new candy.

Bile rose in Tess’s throat. She struggled furiously against him, but his grip was surprisingly strong.

“I don’t want a whore to do that to me, Tess,” he gritted, his lips pressing against her neck. “I want a lady—a real lady. I ain’t never had me a real lady before. I know you want it. . . .”

“Let go of me!” she screeched, reaching to claw at his face. “You are a pig, Eli Gribbs! I wouldn’t let you touch me if you were the last man on earth!”

The harder she fought him, the tighter his grip became. He grasped her wrists with one hand, somehow managing to control the reins at the same time. His other arm wrapped around her middle, pulling her tight against him. To her shock and horror, she realized Eli was already disgustingly aroused and eager to have his way with her. She struggled and squirmed against him, her screams echoing back to her. She was wasting her breath. There wasn’t another soul around for miles; no one to hear her cries.

“Go ahead and scream, Tess,” he hissed. “By the time I’m done with you, you won’t have any voice left. I’m gonna . . .”

Tess’s terror blocked out the rest of his words. She couldn’t let this happen—she wouldn’t let him touch her.

Think!
If she didn’t get away from him, there was no telling what he’d do to her. And how on earth would she ever face Gabriel again if she didn’t do everything in her power to get away from this animal?

Gabriel. She willed him to hear her pleas, willed him to come after her, to take her in his arms and chase this nightmare away. She kept his face in the forefront of her mind—her reason to fight. The minute Gribbs loosened his grip just a bit she’d make her escape. Somehow.

Gribbs reined the horse to a stop in front of an old rundown shack about fifteen miles out of town. He yanked Tess down from the saddle, keeping her wrists bound within his grasp.

“Please, Eli,” she said, forcing her voice steady. “Don’t do this. Just let me go. I swear I won’t say anything to anyone. You can ride out of here and no one will ever know. Please . . .”

“I love to hear women beg,” he sneered, ignoring her pleas. “Come on.”

He yanked her through the fallen-in doorway and shoved her across the room, his hands finally releasing their grip on her. She tripped over a three-legged bench and an old decaying straw tick before she regained her balance. Her eyes searched the room frantically for anything—an escape, a weapon, anything. There was nothing. Not a pot, not a gun, nothing.

The one-room shack was barely large enough to be considered a house, but apparently some poor soul had lived there at one time. A shredded piece of blue cotton dangled from above the only window in the room—a window that was closer to the door than it was to Tess. A wooden crate stood upended under the window, and other than the bench and tick, the room was empty.

Glancing swiftly around again, her eye caught sight of something—a tiny framed picture lying amid the rubble. Not a single shard of glass remained to protect the picture, but the image was unmarked. She reached to pick it up, keeping one eye on Gribbs who had somehow managed to get his horse in through the doorway and was now tethering it to the door handle.

Tess’s fingers wrapped around the frame, then opened to reveal the image. An angel. Tess’s heart sang with relief—it had to be a sign of some kind. The tiny body of the cherub had been drawn with the finest of inks, its wings from silver, and the halo shone brilliantly golden even in the dim light of the shack.

An angel—her Angel Gabriel. Surely he would come for her, wouldn’t he? This had to mean something, it just had to.

Eli turned and faced Tess, his boots scuffing against the dirt floor as he inched his way toward her, like a vulture closing in on its prey. Tess backed into the wall, still searching for anything that might help her. She clutched the drawing in her hand, willing it to give her strength. Gribbs took another step closer. Then another.

Tess couldn’t breathe. Her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest, and her knees threatened to buckle out from under her at any moment. And still Gribbs moved closer.

“I don’t wanna hafta get rough.” He grinned, his black teeth seeming to drip with tobacco juice. His greasy black hair hung to his shoulders, his unshaven cheeks covered in scars and bruises. He took another step closer and Tess ducked, trying to run past him. Quick as lightning, his arm closed around her, hauling her up against him again.

“Where d’ya think yer goin’?” he chuckled. “I ain’t near done with you yet.”

He shoved her down on the old tick, never lessening his hold. His right leg moved over so he straddled her middle, and then he released her wrists. She immediately flailed against him, dropping the angel and tossing and twisting in a vain attempt to free herself.

“I like a gal with spirit,” he sneered as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled his shirt out of the way. Tess’s eyes slammed shut, but her mouth opened wider, forcing out still louder screams.

“Ain’t no one gonna hear ya, Tess, ’cept me, and I like a little fight.” His grimy hands pawed her face and neck, then stilled against the collar of her dress. It was Collette’s dress, a dainty yellow calico with lace edging and hem.

Collette! Tess’s mind raced. Of course—Collette would have sent help! Assuming, of course, she’d made it either back home or to town by then.

Gribbs’s fingers tightened on the top button of Tess’s collar. In one lightning fast tear, he ripped the front of the dress wide open, exposing the flimsy camisole beneath. Tess’s throat, now screamed raw, was unable to make another sound. She pounded against Gribbs with her fists, clawed at him with her nails, and twisted beneath him but was still unable to budge him an inch.

He raised himself to his knees long enough to rip open the rest of the dress. Then he captured her wrists again and bound them to the broken bench with his belt.

“That oughta hold ya for a minute,” he growled. He raised himself to his feet, still towering over her, and removed his pants altogether. Tess turned her head and retched onto the tick—this couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t be.

Gribbs sank back to his knees, this time forcing Tess’s legs wide.

“Please,” she begged again. “Please . . .”

“That’s it,” he grinned. “Beg. I love that.”

Tess’s face burned with fire-hot tears of fury.

“I bet yer real soft,” he tormented her. “Real soft. An’ I ain’t gonna hand you over ’til I find out fer myself. Let’s have a feel, shall we?”

His hands reached for the camisole, his fingers finding the lace edging and tugging at it—surprisingly gently.

Tess’s bound hands tugged frantically at their bonds, her whole body thrashing beneath him, but he was completely unmoved by it. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice, so intent was he on what lay beneath her camisole.
So
intent, in fact, he either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the way the horse nickered and stamped its feet.