Emmy (Gold Rush Brides Book 2) (7 page)

“You suppose that old man was right, Mace?” Fred asked, breaking Mason’s train of thought.

He thought about it a moment and finally nodded. “He seemed honest enough. Besides, if he lied about which direction he saw Kirby traveling, he’s in for a whole passel of trouble with me. He might be worried about snitching on Kirby, but I know where that old guy lives and he weren’t no dummy.”

They all chuckled and nodded. Mason’s size always ‘encouraged’ many eyewitnesses to tell the truth, though he didn’t purposely try to intimidate anyone. Deep down, he was a peaceful sort of man, preferring talk to fighting. It was a shame not everyone believed the same.

“Dang, where is that good-for-nothin’ Jake?,” said David. “S’pose the lunkhead fell in? He better hurry up or this rabbit will be burned to a crisp.”
 

Suddenly Mason was acutely aware that his deputy hadn’t returned. A patrol around a campsite like this shouldn’t have taken longer than getting camp set up, or at least the coffee brewed. Either he’d run into something — Mason hoped it wasn’t trouble — or he was off having a ‘necessary’ break. If that was the case, he’d just earned himself a good chewing out. But Mason didn’t think that’s what was going on. Jake knew enough to check in first before taking care of personal business.

A rustle in the trees drew their attention and the muffled sound of a struggle got them to their feet. Mason didn’t have to look around to know both deputies had their pistols drawn and ready, just as he did. Could be that Kirby found them first or it could be a California lion looking for its own supper.

“Let go of me, you brute,” someone shrieked in the darkness. Then Jake burst through the underbrush with a bundle of wriggling white fabric in his arms. He shoved the bundle on the ground and swiped a forearm across his sweaty brow. Red scratches on his cheek were already starting to puff up.

“Found her about a quarter-mile back, Sheriff,” he explained as he tried to catch his breath. “That one’s so mad she could swallow a horn-toad backwards, let me tell ya!”

Mason watched in awe as delicate pale arms and legs flailed around, trying to extricate their owner from the pile of white silk. Finally a mop of blond hair popped free and he was staring straight into the bright blue eyes of a she-devil.

“You!” he roared at her, fury coloring his world red. “What in tarnation is this?!”

Normally when he shouted at someone like that, the recipient was wise enough to cower, at least a little. Not so with Emmy Gibson. She raised her chin up at him defiantly, as if he didn’t scare her one tiny bit.

“Yes, it’s me. Very observant, Sheriff Wilder. Now if one of you fine gentlemen would be so kind as to help me up…”

All three of his deputies moved to help her — including Jake, of all people.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Not one muscle, any of you. If Mrs. Kirby is man enough to ride out after a murderer, she’s man enough to stand up on her own.”

“Don’t you
dare
call me that. That hound is
not
my husband!”

Mason shrugged his indifference, but the black look on his face told the deputies he wasn’t kidding about helping her. She struggled to free herself from the tangle of her wedding dress, but finally managed to gain her feet, which she used to stalk over to him.

“Your man there was quite rough with me, Sheriff,” she said, pointing at Jake. “I really think you should have a talk with him.”

Mason couldn’t believe his ears. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or shout. “Lady, you really are a piece of work. I should drag you back to Nevada City right now and throw you in a cell. With the door closed, this time!”

She gave him a shrewd look. “But then you’d lose Roy’s trail altogether, and you wouldn’t want to do that. Furthermore, you can’t spare a single one of your deputies to escort me back to town because his troupe or gang or whatever you call it has four other men in it. You’re already outnumbered, if they’re all with him. No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

Mason’s head threatened to pop right off his shoulders. She was right, of course. He couldn’t spare the time or the manpower to make sure she got safely back to Nevada City. And he certainly couldn’t leave her to fend for herself out in the wild. A city girl like her would get lost and freeze or starve to death.
 

She could get lucky and stumble across a local Nisenan Indian camp — they were a kind and peaceful lot — but what if some rough trappers or prospectors found her first? That would be a fate worse than freezing to death. What kind of sheriff — scratch that, what kind of
man
would he be to let that happen?

No, as much as it grieved him to admit it, Emmy had him over a barrel. He wouldn’t have her death on his hands, as much as he disliked her. He had to allow her to join their party — but he didn’t have to make it easy on her.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “You can tag along but you fall behind and you’re on your own. You want food, you go find it yourself. Not a single man here is gonna give up their bedroll, so I hope your brought more with you than that silly wedding dress. It gets mighty cold out here at night.”

He gave each deputy a stern look to drive his point home. No helping the city girl. If she wanted to come with them, she was going to have to pull her own weight.

Then he settled down in front of the fire and yanked a rabbit from the spit. Anger had killed his hunger but he’d be darned if that silly woman was going to eat any of
his
food.

~ * ~ * ~

Emmy’s mouth watered as Mason slurped greedily at his dinner. She’d barely nibbled anything that morning at breakfast because she was too worked up about her impending nuptials, and everything had happened so fast after that she hadn’t even thought about food. But now she was painfully aware that her stomach was empty.
 

The deputies were avoiding looking at her as they took their spots around the campfire and guiltily picked at their food. Her stomach protested loudly, which brought a chuckle from the arrogant sheriff. How rude!

She huffed her displeasure and tromped back through the woods to find her horse. Luckily, she hadn’t yet tied him up when the young deputy grabbed her, and the beautiful beast had followed them most of the way to the posse’s camp.
 

As she’d stood in the middle of Broad Street, watching the sheriff ride away, she’d found herself staring into the distance. When her eyes had focused, they landed on a sign that read ‘HORSES 4 LET’. That was the moment she decided to once again take her fate into her own hands.

She’d felt a fool running into the stable in her wedding dress, but she didn’t want to let the posse get too far ahead of her by returning to the church to change. Besides her other dresses were no more comfortable than the one she was wearing. On top of that, it took the stablehand off-guard seeing a bride rush into his establishment, which gave her the upper hand in negotiations.
 

Putting on the most pitiful face she could muster, she hurried up to the young man, breathless. “Oh, sir, thank goodness I found you!”

“Wha— what can I do ya for, miss…uh, missus?” He was flustered and confused. All the better for her to work her magic.

“Oh, I’ve just had the most terrible news! My beloved has fallen ill on the morning of our wedding. I must go to his side at once but I’m afraid my horse came up lame on the way into town. I would be ever so grateful if you would grant me the use of one of your fine steeds.”

“Well, surely. I got three to pick from, right over yonder,” he said, pointing to three old mares that had seen better days. She could probably walk faster than those horses could canter.

“They’re lovely creatures, to be sure,” she gushed at him, batting her impossibly long lashes. “But I’m in a bit of a hurry. Which is your fastest? I’ll pay extra.”

He brightened at the suggestion. “Oh, well, why didn’t ya say so? Blaze is my personal horse, and he’s lightning fast. But he’ll cost ya. Ten dollars a day.”
 

He winced at his own price, but she smiled happily, even though it was an outrageous sum.

“Wonderful! I’ll be gone overnight, will that be a problem?”

The young man shook his head and puffed out his chest a bit. “Naw, I was planning to go big bear hunting early tomorrow and already done packed Blaze up, ‘cept the gun.”

Emmy cooed at the horse and smoothed her small hand down his muzzle. Blaze whinnied gently and nudged at her hand for more attention.
 

“Hey, he likes you! He’s mighty big, though. Sure you can handle him?”

Gazing into the horse’s eyes, she saw gentleness and deep intelligence. She could feel a bond forming between them already. “I’m sure. Would you be so kind as to assist me?”

Emmy had ridden horses her entire life, but usually with a side-saddle. Riding astride in a corset and wedding dress was awkward, to say the least. But she pretended she was perfectly at home and smiled down at the young man.

“Thank you so much for your help,” she said as she clucked at Blaze to move. “I’ll be back in a couple of days and we’ll settle up then.”

The man stared at her for a moment, no doubt bewildered by the whole encounter, before he objected. “Um, miss…ma’am? Ya gotta pay before taking the horse.”

“Oh, my betrothed is quite wealthy and will settle my account as soon as he’s well. But if you’re concerned, you can ask Sheriff Mason Wilder for a reference. He knows both of us quite well and will vouch for us.”

“Uh…well…”
 

She almost felt sorry for the poor fellow, but now was not the time to take pity. Now was the time to take action.

“Brilliant! See you in a few days!” She prodded the horse with her heels until he was galloping down the road after the posse, leaving the stunned stablehand speechless.

She had barely enough time — and privacy in the nearby woods — while the sheriff was searching Roy’s house to partially undress and remove her restraining corset. Riding astride as men do was hard enough with the thick skirts and petticoats of her wedding dress, but the corset was downright painful. For the first time, she was thankful she’d lost so much weight on the journey west because the dress fit quite comfortably after the corset was gone.
 

But the posse was soon on the move again, and she was back on Blaze, trying to keep up with them while staying far enough back they didn’t spot her. She’d been nearly asleep in the saddle when they finally stopped for the night, so it was hardly surprising that the deputy was able to catch her unawares.

She hoped the stablehand was telling the truth about packing his horse, because otherwise, she would have a very chilly — and hungry — night. There was enough moonlight to check the saddlebags and she was relieved to find an old leather canteen full of water, a thin wool blanket, and a handful of hard biscuits and some sort of hard dried meat wrapped in paper.
 

A hat would have been nice. Already her forehead tingled with sunburn, but there was nothing for it. Maybe one of the men would spare her theirs…

“No!” she whispered. If she asked for so much as a drink of water, the sheriff would gloat about it, and she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. No, she’d have to make due with what she had.

After tending to Blaze, she collected a pile of soft greenery to use as a mattress of sorts. The men all had proper bedrolls — a wool pad to sleep on with a wool blanket to cover them. She only had the blanket, and the ground was so very hard.
 

Arranging her makeshift bed away from the men — and away from the warmth of the fire — she settled down on it and started gnawing on a biscuit and piece of meat. It was like chewing on wood, and about as flavorful, but at least it was sustenance. Tomorrow she’d have to wake up early to search for berries or something more edible.

A couple of the men kept casting rueful glances in her direction but there was no invitation to join them at the fire, so Emmy curled up under her blanket as tightly as she could and listened to their deep murmurs until she drifted into oblivion.

~ * ~ * ~

The sky was barely starting to lighten when Emmy’s eyes fluttered open. It took moment to remember where she was, but her growling stomach reminded her that, no matter where she was, she needed some food.
 

Sneaking a peek at the sheriff and his men still asleep near the now-dead fire, she packed away her blanket as quietly as she could and tiptoed into the woods to relieve herself and hunt for berries.
 

Before she could find any, she heard the men rustling around and knew she’d have to cut her foraging short or the sheriff would happily leave her behind. The sound of Sheriff Wilder’s hearty laughter echoed through the trees and she wondered what could amuse such a sourpuss.

Trudging through the underbrush toward camp, she was keenly aware that her sunburn was far worse than she thought initially. Her face and hands felt like they were on fire, and the itching — a clear sign of healing, thank goodness — was almost unbearable.

When she broke into the small clearing, all four men were standing around her makeshift bed. Only the sheriff was smiling, while the others looked almost despondent. All four sets of eyes widened when they looked at her.

“What? What’s so funny? Haven’t you never seen a bed before, Sheriff?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled, “but never one made of poison oak.”

Mason almost felt sorry for the woman as she straggled behind them on that horse that was far too big for her. Her face and hands were red and spotted with poison oak blisters. Her previously perfect ringlets were limp, knotted strands and her white dress was stained green and brown from the dirt and foliage she’d slept in all night. She was about as far from pretty as could possibly be.
 

Luckily not
all
of the leaves she’d picked in the dark were poisonous but just enough to leave her red and itchy and miserable for a good week or so.
Next time she’ll look a little closer
, he thought.

“You sure you don’t want to turn back for Nevada City?” he hollered back at her. “Blaze is a smart horse, I’m sure he knows the way. That rash ain’t gonna get any better out here. I bet Doc Simonson could fix you right up.”