The Bride Backfire (21 page)

Adam woke early the next morning. At least, he would have if he'd slept.

In any case, dawn found him already up with most of his chores done and him ready to head to the fields. Which is where he went. Without breakfast. His appetite left at the thought of facing Opal over the table, so he got a great start hand-casting oats.

It wasn't until he ventured back to the well to refill his canteen that he spoke to another living soul. Seemed Pa'd had the same idea at the same time.

“Today another day for Opal to help her Pa and brothers?” The question caught Adam off guard.

“No.”

“Must be with the hives, then.” Pa closed his canteen and used the tin cup they kept by the well to take a long swig. “We haven't seen hide nor hair of the girl today. With Willa gone and Larry not back yet from hunting, place seems empty.”

Unease gnawed in the pit of Adam's belly. “I'll check the apiary to be sure.”

A few minutes later, the unease grew to concern when the apiary produced nothing more than humming hives and busy bees. Adam headed back home. He made for the main door but swung around the side, toward the entrance to Willa and Opal's room, at the last minute.

The door stood ajar.

He pushed in but didn't see anything wrong at first. Bed was made neat and tidy, nothing out of place, nothing to cause worry, nothing—nothing.
That's what's wrong.
The realization hit him in the gut. No clothes hung from pegs. No bonnets waited to be worn. No signs told of any woman's presence, save a piece of paper on the writing desk.

Adam walked over to find an already-opened letter. He'd worry about who opened it later. For now, he concentrated on the small, sweet letters whose lines slanted upward at the end.

Dear Adam,

First, please let me apologize for all that's gone wrong. I never meant to mislead you, but when I shouted in the clearing that you would be the father of my child, I chose the words knowing Pa would force a shotgun wedding. I grabbed at my only chance to save your life that day. When you mentioned the possibility of annulment being lost only due to my pregnancy, I knew I couldn't tell you the truth until we consummated our union.

Here, he lowered the letter for a moment, stunned by the revelation.
Does this mean my wife is untouched?
Unable to keep from grinning, he kept reading.

After last night, and in light of Larry's interest, I know we can't be together. By this point, the volatile nature of our families' interactions has been largely contained. Ben and
Willa may take up as the new peacekeepers. This sham of a marriage is no longer necessary to keep bloodshed at bay, so you may rest easy. Please know that I'm leaving this morning to speak with Parson Carter about seeking an annulment, which will certainly be granted upon the supremely provable grounds of nonconsummation.

Adam didn't take the time to fold the letter before heading to the barn, instead creasing it on the way. He had Daisy saddled—draft horse she may be, but she pulled double duty in a pinch—before Ma or Pa could catch up to him.

Opal hasn't been with Larry. Opal never lay with
any
man.
The certainty flooded him like a song of praise.
She chose to save my life. She married me because she wanted to.
Memories of all the times they'd worked in tandem to keep peace jumbled in his mind until there was only one thing he could keep straight.
Opal and I have a chance at a real marriage, as long as I can convince her I don't want an annulment.

He urged Daisy to move faster as he remembered finding Opal in his bed last night.
No annulments for us.

When he arrived at Parson Carter's, the older man hadn't seen Opal. Adam bit back a grin. Perhaps his wife didn't feel so anxious to end things as her letter let on. Maybe she waited at the Speck farm even now for him to show up.

But when he showed up, he found no trace of Opal there either. Worry clawed its way into a frown, but Adam persevered. Perhaps Opal had gone back to the Grogan farm, hoping to find him? He pressed Daisy harder than ever to get home, fighting his growing unease.

Pa said they hadn't seen her at breakfast,
he recalled.
By now she
should have visited Parson Carter and been back at the Speck place many times over.

So it didn't surprise him when he got home and found no Opal. Only his mother remained at the Grogan farm, and even she sat, weeping at the table, raising a tear-stained face to him.

“Oh, Adam,” she sobbed. “I think Opal ran off with our Larry!”

Lucinda couldn't stand. She wanted to fling herself at her eldest son, to comfort him over the betrayal of his wife and brother and wring out what comfort she could in return. But instead, she seemed affixed to the bench.

“Why do you think she's with Larry?” His footfalls sounded slow, as though the news weighed heavy on Adam.

“She ran out on her chores this morning. Then Larry came tearing through here like a man possessed.” She pushed her handkerchief to her mouth. “He demanded the cashbox, took everything, and left. Said he had someone waiting. I know it's her.”

“Opal doesn't want Larry.” Certainty rang in Adam's voice. He pushed a letter toward her. “Though Larry wants my wife ... badly enough to do something foolish. Which way would he go, Ma?”

Lucinda read the note and had to swallow back the bile that swelled past her throat.

I knew it! I knew that girl didn't carry my son's child. She tricked him into marriage. She threw my Willa at her no-good brother. She turned Adam's head, and now she's addled Larry's wits.

“Ben.” She reached past the nausea into her memory for anything useful. “Larry said something about Ben's mine being a good place for a new start.”

“I'm going to bring them home, Ma.”

“Adam?” Her call scarcely made him pause in the doorway he was so intent on racing to his hussy. “Be merciful to your brother. Remember your blood.”

“Yes, Ma.”

Opal awoke to find herself trussed up and slung over a saddle, every step the horse took sending new aches streaking through her bruised middle. She worked her dry mouth and tried to remember what had happened.

The humiliation of last night's rejection rose to the front of her mind until she shoved it down.
I wrote the letter, packed my things, and set out for Parson Carter's.
She strained to marshal her thoughts or even clear her vision but kept seeing spots.

Then it came back.
Larry.
He intercepted her on her way to Parson Carter's and tried to convince her to leave Adam. Hoping to get to safety, she'd told him the truth of where she headed and why, but it backfired. Instead of escorting her to get the annulment, Larry trussed her up like a turkey and went to go read the note she'd left for Adam.

He returned with his whole face lit up, swearing he'd make her happy. But no matter how she played along, she couldn't convince him to take her to Parson Carter's nor her family's farm. The more she insisted, the more he resisted, until he said something about being sorry, but it would be easiest if she slept. Then he raised the butt of his pistol...

Which must be why her head throbbed even more than her stomach. She concentrated on drawing a few deep breaths and praying.

Lord, please give me the wisdom to handle Larry and the strength to take whatever opportunities You send. I ask for peace to clear my thoughts so I may be wise.

The one small mercy Larry afforded her had been to not gag her. Although, having knocked her unconscious, he probably hadn't needed to. At any rate, she tried to use her teeth to loosen the rope around her wrists, contorting her hands and compressing her fingers in a bid for freedom. No use. She decided against trying to rear back and lunge off the horse.

Not only did she gamble a bad fall, it wouldn't do her any good with her legs bound together. At best, the attempt may slow Larry's progress by a few moments. At worst, he might strike her unconscious again. Opal shuddered at the thought and refused to risk it.

But she did try to angle her arms beneath her enough to maneuver her stomach off the horse a little. Not much, just enough to bear some of her weight and relieve the pain. It didn't work, but it alerted Larry that she'd awoken, and she felt them come to a halt.

The saddle leaned as he slid out. His hands sent revulsion up her spine when they settled on her waist and pulled her down, but her much-abused midriff sighed with relief. He didn't say anything, just stared at her for a moment before cupping the back of her head, feeling where he'd bashed the back of her skull. It made her wince.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart.” His use of the endearment made her skin crawl. “But I had to do it. I knew you wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to your pa and brothers. Am I right?”

“Yes.” The urgency in his voice acted as her cue, even if she hadn't already decided the smartest thing would be to agree with him unless he asked something of her. “I wanted to see them.”

“Don't be sad, baby.” He smothered her in a hug. “You know if you saw them they wouldn't let you leave with me. I couldn't let that happen.” Larry kept one arm around her but pulled back enough to look down at her. “You would've been so upset if they stood in our way.”

“I'm sure you would've found a way.” She kept the words sounding sweet.
A lying, thieving, sneaking, conniving, abusing, kidnapping, no-good jerk always finds a way to take what he wants.

“Of course I would've found a way for us to be together.” He smoothed her hair back—right over the tender knot that made her wince again. “After how hard I've been working to get them out of the way, you know that. Even if it backfired and you wound up having to save Adam.”

“I'm the reason you wanted to spark the feud?” It clunked into place but made no sense.

“Yes. Your family wouldn't let me have you, so they had to be taken out of the picture. We're destined to be together, no matter what I have to do to make it happen.” A beatific smile made sinister by the scar bisecting his face. “You know that.”

Adam followed the tracks from the Burn smithy due west. Sure enough, they said Larry'd rented the fastest horse they had. With cash up front.

But that horse carried two passengers, and his trusty Daisy only carried one. Together, they pushed as quickly as possible, the tracks growing fresher the farther they got. Hours of riding saw the scenery change, sending them into a land of reddish soil and spiky desert plants that didn't seem to bear much thirst.

It was here, behind a small stand of bedraggled trees that looked more like twisted bushes, Adam caught sight of his quarry. Lickety-split, he slid off Daisy and snuck closer, taking stock of the situation.

There stood the horse—munching on a tuft of grass so dry it looked as though it would cut a cow's mouth. Larry faced Opal a few steps behind. From this side view, Adam could see that his brother had bound his wife's hands and knees, keeping her completely under his control.

The beast within him that claimed Opal as its own gave a mighty roar when he saw Larry's arm around his wife. When he heard Larry telling her he'd do anything to make them be together, the roaring became louder, rushing in his ears when he saw Opal wince.

“Step away from my wife.” Adam gave the order from less than four feet back. He crouched, ready if Larry sprang at him.

“Adam!” Opal made as though to move toward him, but her bindings brought her up short. She fell to the ground with a painful
thud
as Larry released her and turned.

“Brother.” The sneer mocked him. Mocked their blood tie. “You read the letter. She's left you. Be gone.”

“Noooo...” A low moan from Opal negated Larry's taunt.

“Larry, come back home. Opal and I will move out. Things will go back to normal. You'll never go near or even see my wife again.” He inched forward, attempting to reason with the unreasonable man. “We'll put this all behind us.”

“No. Opal's mine.” Larry pulled out a knife. “You tried to take her from me once. You're my brother, Adam, and it took me a long time to figure out how it happened. Now that I know it was a mistake, I can forgive and forget it. But I won't let it happen again. Leave us in peace now.”

“Put away the knife and come home.” Another step toward subduing Larry. Another step toward saving Opal.

“Get back.” His brother waved the knife, moving to stand over Opal. “She and I are meant for each other. Leave us in peace.”

“Larry, I have to bring her back. She's my wife. She belongs with me.”

“No!” Larry lunged forward, slicing through the air—and a part of Adam's shirt—with his knife. It would've done more damage, but he stepped in some sort of depression in the earth and his balance faltered. He quickly righted himself and attacked again.

Adam grabbed his brother's knife-arm with both hands, keeping it poised away from his body, twisting until Larry dropped the knife. He kicked it far from where they stood, evening the match.

No matter, Larry wouldn't give up. He came after him, fists flying, face full of fury. They had the knockdown, drag-out of the century.

Until Opal screamed.

Larry, as the one closest, processed the problem first. The depression his foot sank in when he wielded the blade hadn't been mere loose earth. While they'd fought, the deadly force he unleashed crept toward Opal.

Each about a foot long, two snakes slithered to where Opal lay, bound and helpless to escape. The yellow background and gray dorsal pattern, with two light diagonal stripes along their faces, clearly marked them as prairie snakes. The usual warning rattle hadn't alerted them, as these youths each boasted only a single rattle, producing a soft sort of sizzling sound to express their anger at having their nest disturbed. Having grown so long, it seemed likely that these two had driven off or eaten most of their siblings.

“Opal!” Adam scrambled to his feet and began to charge for his wife, knowing he wouldn't make it in time.

“Opal!” Larry dove in front of her, directly in the path of both snakes.

Out of the corner of his eye, Adam saw the snakes dart toward his brother while he dragged Opal to safety. He raced to pick up the knife he'd kicked away earlier in the fight, falling upon the creatures still attacking his brother with a vengeance. In seconds, neither snake's head could find its body, but Adam didn't care.

“Larry.” Puncture wounds covered his brother's arms, hands, and chest. Young prairie rattlers were known to strike multiple times, with venom more concentrated than that of grown snakes. With two of them ... Adam couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat as Larry struggled to sit up.

“Opal.” His brother's dying request had Adam untying his wife and bringing her to her kidnapper's side. He might have worried that she'd shy away, but not his wife.

“You saved me.” Opal dropped to her knees and drew Larry's head in her lap, her tears falling in a gentle rain. “Thank you.”

“See?” A sweet smile transformed Larry into the brother Adam had grown up with. He reached one shaking hand to trace the path of one of Opal's tears. “I was right, Opal.” He fought to breathe. “You do care.”

His words only made her cry harder and hold on tighter as Larry took his last breaths, his heart giving out from the poison.

Adam didn't move. Couldn't move. Not until all Opal's tears were shed and she stood up. Together, they carefully wrapped Larry in a blanket and tied him to the saddle before setting out for home.

Opal didn't speak and neither did he.

He thinks it's my fault.
Opal kept her arms wrapped around Adam's waist to keep from falling off Daisy as they started home.

Oh Lord. After this, there's no chance for me and Adam, is there? The death of his brother ... He'll blame me. Or he'll blame himself, which is even worse. His parents had barely begun to tolerate me. Now that will end entirely.

Despair bogged her down, rooting her in misery. The best she could hope for now was that their families didn't kill each other over this incident, that Larry's death would be the last. Her thoughts pulled her in so deep, Opal scarcely noticed when the sky turned dark. Not until they came within sight of the Grogan house.

Then she struggled not to tighten her hold on Adam. Funny how she'd thought she'd given him up entirely this morning, but now she felt as though she couldn't let him go. He swung out of the saddle and lifted her down after. She followed him to the other horse, which Daisy had led the entire way, and helped him untie Larry's corpse. Adam carried the bundle inside, where his parents and little brother waited.

“No!” Lucinda's anguished scream rent the night the second she saw Opal walk through the door behind her son and knew the figure masked by the blanket must be Larry. “No!” She grasped Larry's shoulders and sank onto the floor, where Adam carefully placed him.

“What happened?” Diggory's eyes didn't look hard tonight. No greedy glint or angry gleam lit their depths. Instead, his expression seemed strangely flat.

“He kidnapped Opal on her way to Parson Carter's.” Adam didn't so much as glance her way as he spoke. “Ma says he then came and took the cashbox, which I assume is still in the saddlebags. Opal didn't go willingly, so he tied her up, which is how I found them.”

“Anything you want to add?” Her father-in-law interrupted Adam and turned to her.

“No.” Her saying anything would be out of place.

“Tell me everything anyway.” Diggory Grogan demonstrated a greater understanding of her than Opal would have credited him with. “Best to have all the details now.”

“He knocked me out with the back of his pistol”—Opal flinched at the angry sound from Adam as his hand settled directly on the tender spot at the back of her head—“when I didn't agree that we were in love and I belonged to him.”

“Lovesick.” Lucinda had freed Larry's head from the swathing and tenderly fixed his hair. “Just lovesick for the wrong girl. That's all he was. He didn't mean no harm.”

“He said he's been trying to provoke the feud to kill my family and get rid of any objections.” Opal wouldn't meet anyone's gaze as she repeated Larry's words, all too aware how ridiculous it sounded.

“I should've seen it.” Diggory lowered himself onto his haunches and looked at Larry's face.

“None of us did.” Adam sounded so hoarse, Opal wouldn't have known his voice if she didn't see his mouth move.

He blames me for not telling him. I thought he wouldn't have believed me, but would he? Do such questions even matter anymore?
She reached up and curled her fingers around Mama's brooch.

“When I found them, Larry told me to leave them. I wouldn't, so he pulled a knife and sprang at me.” Adam recounted how he disarmed his brother, how Larry's step faltered, how the two fought until Opal cried out.

“Tied up, she couldn't get away. Larry threw himself in front of Opal when he realized the situation.”

“It should have been you.” Lucinda's hiss seemed oddly akin to that of the snakes from earlier as she stared at Opal. “You should be wrapped in this blanket. Not my boy.”

“Larry kidnapped Opal, bashed her skull, tied her up, and put her in the path of those snakes.” Her husband spoke more loudly now. “It shouldn't have been Opal, Ma. It shouldn't have been anyone, but Larry created the problem.”

“No.” The hatred in Lucinda's stare made Opal's blood run cold. “
She
created the problem when she seduced you and wormed her way into our household, playing brother against brother.”

“Opal misled her family, and myself, into believing she carried a child on our wedding day just to save my life. She's never been with any man, so don't call her a seducer or one who pits men against each other.”

“No grandchild?” Diggory's face went duller. “Well, at least we know you got yourself a good wife, son.”

“A good wife?” The scream should've brought the town running. “She murdered our Larry and disgraced his name!”

“Larry saved my life.” Opal didn't care that Lucinda hated her, but she wouldn't stand by and let her affection for Larry's memory fade to nothing. “I honor him.”

“As do I.” Adam moved to stand alongside her.

“Same here.” Diggory straightened up. “He may have gotten things mixed up, might have caused trouble, but by taking on those snakes, Larry proved himself a good man in the end. I'm proud of him.”

“You have reason to be.”

“Don't speak about my son.” Lucinda lurched to her feet. “Get out of my house. Take her out, Adam. Now!”

“I'll take her home.”

Home.
Opal bowed her head.
He's returning me to the Speck farm.
Of course he is. The only thing that's changed is that his brother died—over me. No wonder he wants to be rid of me.
She followed as he stabled the horse, not protesting when he grabbed her satchel.

Neither one of them uttered a word as they trudged toward the Speck farm.

It wasn't until they stood on her father's doorstep that Adam asked a question Opal hadn't imagined weighed on his mind. “What's wrong with your stomach?”

“Oh.” The memory of Larry's fist made her close her eyes, but not before she glanced down and registered that her arm braced her stomach, as it had for most of the walk. “Being thrown over a saddle and jounced around takes a toll.”

“No.” His eyes narrowed at her shrug. “You hurt before today. I noticed when we went after Willa—but thought it was the baby. Now I know better.” He angled closer. “What happened?”

“Doesn't matter anymore.” She braced herself more tightly and reached for the door, the obvious escape. “I'll be fine.”

His body blocked the door—solid, powerful, and far too close for comfort.

She fell back a step.

“Tell me, Opal.”

“Larry.”

The
smack
of knuckles splintering wood muffled her husband's curse as Adam gouged her father's doorframe with a vicious jab before stalking off into the night.

Even though the door opened to reveal her entire family, Opal couldn't help but feel isolated. Adam didn't even see Willa and Ben had returned. How could he?

He never looked back.