The Independent Bride (28 page)

“It’s no wonder the men propose to you over and over again,” Bryce said, sounding breathless. “You’re enough to make a man forget his responsibilities.”

Maybe some men, but not Bryce. Whatever his feelings might be, he didn’t let them rule his head. He never lost sight of his ultimate goal.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Abby said. “Any woman would like to feel she had that kind of power over her man.”

But a woman of conscience, a woman of character, would never exercise it.

“Sometimes I get the feeling you’re more dangerous to me than any outlaw or rogue Indian. You make me want to do things I shouldn’t.” He leaned back so he could look into her eyes. “Sometimes I feel as if you must be a witch.”

“No supernatural powers here,” Abby said, thinking that the men in her life had turned their backs on her without difficulty. “You’re just vulnerable because you’re a single man, I’m a single woman, and we’re momentarily trapped at this fort with no commitments to anyone else. Once you’re back in the East you’ll scratch your head trying to remember what it was you found so interesting about me.”

“I don’t have to do that. I already know.”

Abby didn’t want to know. This was a casual relationship, one that would end when Bryce left the fort. If it was to leave no scars, they would need to keep their importance to each other on a physical level. Verbalizing their feelings would only cause pain.

“Then let it be your secret,” Abby said. “I’m told men like to keep their women guessing.”

“It’s the other way around. Besides, it’s no secret. Any man who meets you would feel the same.”

“You can tell me about my eyes, my skin, my teeth.” These were all superficial things that wouldn’t touch her heart.

“I’d rather talk about your soul, your spirit, your strength of character.”

“Don’t!”

Bryce seemed surprised by her reaction. “I thought women liked to be loved for more than their physical beauty.”

“We’re not talking about love. Besides, every woman likes to be told she’s beautiful.”

“That’s not what draws a man to a woman for more than a short time. Hair turns gray, skin dries and shrivels, teeth may decay, and eyes can go blind. But mat’s all on the surface. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

“It’s time for me to go in. Moriah will be worried. And you have to get up early for the first drill.”

“I’ve directed drill more than once without sleep.”

“Bryce, you’re going to choose a wife for practical purposes. There’s no point in thinking about my inner qualities.”

“But that’s what makes you so special. A man could very easily love you forever.”

Something inside Abby snapped and a sob tore loose from her throat.

Chapter Seventeen

“I can’t do this,” she cried. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“Can’t do what?” Bryce asked, apparently confused and worried by her sudden outburst.

But Abby couldn’t tell him. How did you tell a man you couldn’t pursue a casual relationship because you’d suddenly discovered you were in danger of falling in love with him? She might have been able to if he hadn’t started talking about inner qualities that could make a man love her forever. Didn’t he know that every woman longed to believe a man loved her for her inner beauty, that age would increase and deepen rather than wear down the strength and intensity of his love?

She reached for the rope and pulled hard. She had to get away from Bryce.

“What did I say to upset you?” Bryce asked.

“Nothing. I’m just tired. I’ve been under a lot of strain since I got here. I guess it’s bothering me.”

“You didn’t seem on the verge of tears just moments ago.”

She pulled on the rope again. “It comes on without warning.” She pulled the rope again, praying Moriah would hurry.

“I can’t leave you like this.”

“Men get drunk when things bother them. Women cry.” She heard the bar being lifted and the key inserted in the lock. She practically fell into Moriah’s arms.

“What’s wrong?” Moriah asked as soon as she got a look at Abby. “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” Abby said, hoping to reassure her sister. “I’m just tired.”

Moriah looked from one of them to the other, her expression far from friendly. “I appreciate your seeing my sister safely home,” she said to Bryce. “Good night.” She closed the door in his face, then led her sister inside.

“Tell me what happened,” she said. “And don’t leave anything out.”

Bryce remained standing on the porch, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Sometimes Abby seemed like two people. One was a hardheaded businesswoman determined to succeed. She didn’t mind asking for help or going against convention. She was strong, resourceful, and knew exactly what she wanted. She made decisions based on practical reasons, not emotional ones. She seemed determined to live her life without husband or family. She regarded the soldiers’ repeated proposals with humor, understood the difficult life they led, and didn’t blame them for wanting to make it easier.

Then there was the Abby who responded eagerly to his kisses, much more eagerly than he would have expected. It wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d slapped him the first time he kissed her, even refused to speak to him afterward. That same Abby had reappeared tonight to enjoy being held in his arms, to enjoy his compliments. The way she’d responded to his kiss had led him to believe she was opening the door to a closer relationship.

Then she’d slammed it abruptly, leaving him with no clue as to what had caused the sudden change. He was equally puzzled by her insistence that he confine his compliments to her physical appearance. He knew women wanted to be thought beautiful, but Abby wasn’t a person who valued the external over the internal. She discounted her physical appearance. Though she dressed well, she never wore anything out of the ordinary.

None of this made sense. Maybe he’d ask Dorrie. She could be flighty, but she was bound to know more about this sort of thing than he did. Besides, he had to figure out what the changes in his own feelings for Abby signified.

He had grown up in a society where marriages were contracted for social and financial reasons far more often than for love. Some people, his mother being one of them, considered love dangerous to the stability of a marriage. They said love was irrational, temporary, and the cause of much self-destructive behavior in men and women. They believed respect, common goals, and similar backgrounds formed the basis for the most successful marriages. Bryce had married for love, and it had been a disaster. He had every intention of choosing his next bride for practical reasons. He hadn’t thought his attraction to Abby threatened that intention until tonight.

He’d recognized his physical attraction to Abby from the beginning. The fact that she was the first attractive single woman to come within his orbit had made it easier to accept the unanticipated strength of his feeling for her.

Tonight, however, he’d realized the things that appealed to him most about Abby had very little to do with the superficial. Yes, he enjoyed her cooking, but it was the impulse behind her offer to prepare his meals that was important. He was glad of her friendship with Pamela, but it was the enjoyment she got out of letting Pamela help that was important. The same was true of her insistence that the Indians get all the beef they were promised and get it on time, her continuing effort to make sure the store carried as much as possible of what the people at the fort wanted, her friendship with wives of officers as well as enlisted men. Maybe most telling was the fact that he’d forgotten he’d ever wanted her to go back to St. Louis.

Something very profound had changed in his thinking, and he’d better figure out what and why before he did something he would regret.

Abby didn’t know the man who walked into the store, but he wasn’t one of the soldiers. She hoped he was a rancher or homesteader. She wanted to build her clientele among the civilians in the area.

“I’m Abby Pierce,” she said, introducing herself to him. “I’m one of the owners of the trading post. Can I help you find anything?”

“I’m just looking,” the man said. “I usually buy what I need in Boulder Gap, but this place is about an hour closer.”

“We’re in the process of restocking the store,” Abby said. “If you don’t see something you want, write it down. We’re keeping a list so we can serve our customers better.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“We’re hoping to serve the civilian community as well as the army,” Abby said.

“What about the Indians?”

Since they weren’t supposed to leave the reservation, Abby had assumed that market was closed to her. “I was under the impression the Indian agent handed out what goods and supplies they needed each month.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure. I heard Russ Tibbolt and his boys were attacked by Indians two days ago while they were driving a herd to the reservation.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Abby said. “Why should they try to steal what was already theirs?”

“Maybe they weren’t so sure the agent was going to hand it over.”

Abby didn’t trust Hinson, but she was sure he’d never try to steal the beef. “What happened to Tibbolt and his men?”

“I don’t know, but what chance could he have against a lot of Indians? There were only four of them with the herd.”

Abby untied her apron, jerked it over her head, and threw it atop a pile of shirts. “Come with me,” she said to the man. “I want you to tell Colonel McGregor what you know.”

She practically had to drag the man across the parade ground to Bryce’s office. He was worried Bryce would somehow hold him responsible for the attack. Abby listened while Bryce questioned the man. He didn’t say anything beyond what he’d already told her, but when asked to give his opinion of what might have happened, he said he figured Tibbolt and his men were probably dead. Bryce sent a message to Lieutenant Collier to put together a troop of thirty men to be ready to ride within the hour.

“You’ll have to show us where the attack took place,” Bryce said to the man.

“I want to get home. The wife will be worried. She don’t like being left alone, especially not when there’s Indians about.”

“I’ll send a couple of soldiers to stay with your family until you can return,” Bryce said. “Just tell us how to find your place.”

“Do you think Tibbolt and his men are dead?” Abby asked after the man had left to give directions to the soldiers who were being sent to his house.

“I don’t know,” Bryce replied, already making preparations to lead the patrol. “It would depend on how many Indians attacked, whether Tibbolt had good, dependable men, and how determined the Indians were to steal the beef.”

“He said maybe the Indians didn’t think Hinson was going to give it to them. Do you think he could be selling what he’s supposed to give the Indians?”

“Anything is possible. I won’t know until I see for myself.”

“If Hinson is stealing, you’ve got to stop him.”

“I told you, I have no authority over him or the Indians. I’m only allowed to get involved when something goes wrong.”

“But that’s too late.”

“I know that, and the army knows that, but we can’t convince the men in Washington. You’d better get back to the store. I’ve got to get ready to ride.”

“I’ll do no such thing. I’m going with you.”

The last thing Bryce wanted was to have Abby go with him, but she had made it clear she was prepared to ride out on her own if necessary. He couldn’t let that happen. If the Indians killed a white woman, everyone within a hundred miles would be demanding that the army wipe out the Indians. They wouldn’t make any distinction between rogue braves and the men, women, and children who lived peacefully on the reservation. Bryce admired Abby’s courage and spunk, but at times he wished she hadn’t been so liberally endowed with those traits.

“This looks about where it was,” the man said when they rode into an area where the ground fell away on either side of the trail. “You could hide I don’t know how many Indians in there and no one would see them until it was too late.”

“Have the men spread out and see what they can find,” Bryce said to Collier.

“You’ll find a lot of blood if the amount of shooting was anything to go by,” the man said. “Went on for half a day.”

That made Bryce feel better. If the attack had been over quickly, he would have assumed the Indians had killed all the men and made off with the beeves. The longer the fight, the more chance Tibbolt and his men had survived.

“How could Indians hide here?” Abby asked, looking into the ravines on either side of the trail.

“Indians are masters at hiding in places you and I would find impossible. Besides, the herd itself might have served to screen their attack.”

“What will you do if you find bodies?” Abby asked.

“There won’t be any. Tibbolt or his men would have buried their dead, and the Indians would have carried theirs away.”

After asking the man a few more questions, Bryce allowed him to go home. Abby was nervous and upset by the time Lieutenant Collier and his men returned.