The Independent Bride (42 page)

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Authors: Leigh Greenwood

BOOK: The Independent Bride
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It was clear from Abby’s expression that she didn’t believe him.

“Don’t you think I thought of all this before I said a word to you? I was afraid you wouldn’t marry me because you didn’t want to go back East, didn’t want to have anything to do with Philadelphia society, didn’t want to have to cope with the Washington political arena, didn’t want to take on another’s woman’s daughter. When I found you and Pamela loved each other, I knew the rest didn’t matter.”

Abby wanted to believe Bryce so much, she was shaking from the strain of keeping her hopes within bounds. Could any man love her enough to give up so much? It didn’t seem possible. Her father hadn’t loved her enough to take her with him. Why should she think Bryce could love her enough to change his plans for her?

You fool, he loves you enough to have taken off his uniform and come after you. What more proof can you want?

She knew she didn’t need any more proof, but she was frightened. If she gave in now, she’d give in completely. But she’d been deserted so many times—by her mother, her father, the man she thought she loved—it was hard to believe it wouldn’t happen again. Still, it was difficult to doubt Bryce’s sincerity.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.”

“What will you do?”

“What would you like me to do?”

She had no idea. No one had ever asked her a question like that. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“I’ve taken my plans for granted for a long time. I’m not sure.”

“Sounds to me like you two ain’t never met before,” Hobie said. “How about you sleep on it so me and Larson can get some shut-eye.”

“Put me in the night watch rotation,” Bryce said.

“You don’t have to do this,” Abby said.

“Of course I do. Now, where is your bedroll? I want you to lie down so I can work on these stiff muscles.”

Abby knew she ought to resist, but she was too tired. Besides, it was what she wanted more than anything else in the world. Tomorrow would be time enough to wonder if Bryce knew what he was saying. Tonight she wanted to believe he loved her enough to give up everything for her.

Even if she couldn’t let him do it “What were you doing sleeping in the bushes?” Bryce asked.

“Parker said I was to sleep away from the campfire. I’ve never slept in the open before. I felt better with something around me, even if it was only a few bushes.” Settling back down on the bedroll reminded her of how much her body hurt. She didn’t know if she could ever get to sleep.

“Lie on your stomach,” Bryce said. “I’ll start with your shoulders.”

Abby was certain if she ever lay down, she would never get up again. She anticipated pleasure from Bryce’s hand on her back, but the muscles screamed in protest. She groaned involuntarily.

“It takes a while to get used to being in the saddle all day,” Bryce said. “You shouldn’t try to do it all at once.”

“Don’t scold me. I feel miserable already.”

“Just relax and try to go to sleep.”

Abby was certain she’d never be able to sleep with Bryce’s hands on her back, but exhaustion set in as soon as her muscles began to relax.

“You sure that’s something a gentleman ought do to a lady?” Hobie asked.

“Not normally,” Bryce admitted, “but these are unusual circumstances.”

“How’s that?” Larson asked, suspicious.

“First, the lady isn’t used to riding. She’s extremely tired after being in the saddle all day and night, and her muscles are so tight and stiff she can’t sleep. If she’s going to be able to ride tomorrow, she needs as much sleep as possible.”

“Still don’t seem right for you to be touching her in ways that would get me thrown in jail.”

“It’s all right because you two are watching to make sure I don’t do anything improper.”

“Looks to me like you’re already improper,” Hobie said.

“What are we supposed to do if we don’t like what’s happening?’ Larson asked.

“You’re not supposed to do anything unless Miss Pierce has a complaint,” Bryce said.

“You got a complaint, miss?” Hobie asked.

“No.” Abby thought her voice sounded suspiciously weak.

“You don’t have to be afraid to speak up,” Hobie said. “There’s three of us if you need help.”

Abby couldn’t help being amused at how the tables had turned. Living in the West wasn’t very comfortable or predictable, but it sure wasn’t boring. If Aunt Emma could see her now, she’d swear Abby ought to be fainting from shock. Instead, Abby was wondering why no one had ever told her how delightful it could be to have the man you loved gently massage your body, even if he was limited to the parts Hobie and Larson thought were acceptable.

“Does this feel better?” Bryce asked. “You’d better say yes,” he whispered, “or your watchdogs will start drawing cards to see who shoots me.”

“It feels wonderful,” Abby said loud enough for Hobie and Larson to hear. “I think the army should institute massages for all soldiers when they’ve spent the day in the saddle.”

“It’s not quite the same,” Bryce whispered.

“You think other women would like something like that?” Hobie asked.

“They would if they feel like I do right now,” Abby said.

“I believe they’re considering it as a courting technique,” Bryce whispered.

Abby chuckled, but she was losing interest in the conversation. Eyes closed, head resting on her hands, she felt fatigue settling on her like a heavy fog, clouding her brain and making the voices seem indistinct and far away. She didn’t have to worry. Bryce was here. Everything would be all right.

“Abby, wake up.”

Abby tried to shove away the hand on her shoulder. She felt drugged, so deep in sleep she was certain she couldn’t wake up if she tried. Even her eyelids felt too heavy to open. The effort to flex her fingers depleted her scant supply of energy.

“You’ve got to wake up. We can’t stay here. The rustlers are closing in.”

Abby’s body fought to remain asleep, but something in the back of her brain screamed a warning she couldn’t ignore. Abby opened her eyes to see Bryce’s face only inches away.

“There are at least a half dozen men working their way through the brush right now,” he said. “I’ve already told the boys to fall back to a better defensive position. We’ve got to get mere before the rustlers reach the campfire and find no one here.”

For a moment Abby was fearful her body wouldn’t move, but Bryce took her hands and pulled her to her feet. He folded up her bedroll and picked up her rifle while she tried to wake up enough to walk without falling over her own feet.

“How did they find us?’

“You have to learn not to build a campfire that can be seen for miles.”

“The boys were afraid I would be cold.”

“It’s better to be cold and alive.”

Abby was sufficiently awake to agree with that aphorism.

“Keep your head down,” Bryce said as he led Abby past the still-glowing ashes of the campfire. “They might be able to see you against the skyline.”

Abby followed Bryce for what felt like a mile before he dropped into a dry wash. The sand made walking more tiring, but she no longer stumbled over rocks or caught her skirt on morns. Hobie and Larson had already taken up positions behind some rocks. Bryce positioned her between them and behind a large cottonwood.

“Stay there and keep your head down,” he said. “I’ll tell you when to shoot.”

“Where’s Orman?”

“He’s with the cows. We can’t take the chance that they’ll make off with your herd and leave us looking like fools.”

“You were asleep. How did you know they were coming?”

“I didn’t go to sleep. They only had this one night, so I figured they would attack as soon as they could find you.”

“You think the same people are behind all the attacks?”

“Yes. I think the attacks when Baucom had the contract were faked. I never heard of any of his men getting hurt, but he consistently lost half the consignment. After he lost the contract, cowboys started getting shot.”

“Baucom told me he was glad to get rid of the contract, that it was too dangerous.”

“He lied.”

“Then—”

“Hinson and Baucom are in this together. I expect they found a way to share the money they made on the missing cattle, but I can’t prove it.”

Abby didn’t know why she hadn’t seen that herself. “You think they were behind the fire?”

“I think they’d do anything they could to drive you out of business so you’d have to give up the contract”

“Enough to kill me?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Despite Bryce’s warnings, Abby had never considered herself in real physical danger. Not that she doubted Bryce when he told her what
could
happen. It was just that things like that didn’t happen among civilized people. She’d been prepared to believe Indians would do terrible things. Everyone knew they were uneducated savages, but she had believed white men were too civilized to kill indiscriminately for the sake of money. Now she’d learned the Indians had honored their bargains while the white men, from the politicians on down, had cheated on theirs. Maybe Albert wasn’t so different. Maybe Bryce was unique, a man of honor and integrity who would give up his career for what he thought was right, for the woman he loved.

And she was that woman.

“They’re coming,” Larson whispered. “I just saw one of them stand up.”

“That’s careless,” Bryce said. “They must think we’re all asleep. Don’t anyone fire until I give the signal.”

“Why not just kill them now?” Larson asked. “That’s what they planned to do to us.”

The stark reality of what it meant to live in the West became even more clear to Abby. There was no effective police force or code of behavior to protect the helpless. One had to be willing to fight for the right to be free. Men killed and expected to get away with it.

“Keep your voice down,” Bryce said. “They’re getting close.”

“You should have brought the army with you,” Hobie said. “Your troops could have shot up the whole lot of them.”

“Rustling is not the army’s concern unless the Indians are doing it,” Bryce said.

Abby didn’t understand mat, but then, she didn’t understand why the army had no control over the white men who cheated the Indians but were expected to protect these very same men from the Indians.

“That’s an Indian out there,” Hobie said.

“I expect they’re white men dressed up as Indians.”

“Let’s kill us one and see,” Larson said.

Abby remembered the shock she’d felt when she realized she’d killed Spicer and felt sick to her stomach. “I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said to Bryce.

“All you have to do is fire in their direction,” Bryce said. “We’ve got a pretty good position. Larson and Hobie can guard our flanks while you and I blunt a frontal attack.”

Abby found herself growing more and more nervous. She didn’t like waiting, especially when she didn’t know what was going to happen. Worse, she was feeling guilty. What if something happened to Bryce? He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. When she’d made up her mind to drive the herd herself against his advice, she hadn’t expected him to follow after her.

But she should have known better. In the back of her mind she’d probably thought he would come after her to protect her. Worse still, she’d probably counted on it. How could she have done something so awful, so underhanded? How could she face Pamela if anything happened to her father because of her own selfishness?

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, turning to Bryce. “This isn’t your fight”

“I’m here because I love you. How could I be anywhere else?”

“You could be with your daughter. She doesn’t need you getting shot because of me. You could both be on your way East.”

“I’d just as soon he didn’t go anywhere right now,” Larson said. “I think they just discovered the camp is deserted.”

“The embers are still warm, so they’ll know we’re on to them,” Bryce said.

The four of them were so quiet, Abby could hear herself breathe. She could also detect the sound of someone moving through the brush.

“Any moment now,” Bryce whispered.

For Abby the whole night was taking on a surreal aspect. It was impossible to believe that she, Abigail Pierce, reared on a South Carolina farm and in a quiet household in St. Louis, could be crouching in a dry streambed in the middle of the night, rifle in hand, ready to take part in a gun battle with people who were willing to kill her to steal her cows.

But even as she decided she must be going crazy, she saw Bryce take careful aim. He had been brought up in a wealthy Philadelphia household, no doubt protected from all the unpleasantness of the world, taught all the rules of gentlemanly behavior. Yet here he was calmly preparing to do battle. Even though it was hard to fathom, it obviously was possible to be caught up in this world without losing her sanity.

But when the first rifle shot shattered the quiet of the night, she was no longer sure.

“Aim for the flash of light,” Bryce said, “but keep under cover. They’ll be doing the same.”

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