Ellie's Wolf (2 page)

“Nothing bad. He wants his merchandise in top condition, remember?” Sarcasm dripped from Sara’s voice. “Let’s do it.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

Sara snorted. “You act like an old granny. You’re not that old.”

“I’m twenty-four,” Ellie murmured. At this time, one short year ago, she had been a happy twenty-three-year-old wife and mother. Now, she was a widow who felt twice that, at least. Maybe three times that, with her little boy kept behind in the house of the man who had sold her like a cow. “I’m old enough to know what could happen to two women alone.”

Sara’s scowl was ferocious. “If this were the Times Before, no one would treat us like this. We could go anywhere we wanted to, and we wouldn’t have to worry about woman-stealers catching us. Back in the twenty-first century, there were as many women as men, and some of them never got married. I wish we lived back then.”

Ellie didn’t. She had heard all about the Times Before from her mother’s father, who had actually lived through the Terrible Times when evil men bombed cities and released epidemic diseases. Grandpa Gray gave her carefully preserved newspapers to read, and those news articles written in the last months of 2014 horrified her. People did cruel things to each other just to be able to survive.

“If we’d lived back, then we probably wouldn’t have survived the Woman-Killer Plague,” she told Sara. “Not very many women did, you know.”

A cold shiver slid down her arms when she remembered the recurrence of the plague that broke out the winter before her marriage to Neal. Only a few women died of it, thanks to the quick response by the mayor. She and her aunts and cousins had been quarantined in their home until it passed, and each day they watched each other for fever and any hint of the excruciating headache that signaled the onset of the plague. Thank God they had been spared.

Sara waved an impatient hand. “Yeah, I know. Forget that for a minute, okay? Think! We could have used a phone to talk to my uncle, and he could have ridden his car to come and get us.” The teenager heaved a sigh. “Wouldn’t that be nice? My dad told me that cars could go anywhere just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

Ellie had to admit some things from the Times Before would be nice to have, like running water and refrigerators. All day the wagon had rolled along the prairie not far from the broken remains of a road from the Times Before. The paving was overgrown by grass, but Ellie could imagine that a long time ago, when it had been smooth and flat, a wagon could travel quicker and easier. That would be nice. The magazines from the first decade of the twenty-first century fascinated her with their glossy pictures of women working in offices and walking along crowded sidewalks without a male escort, but Ellie wondered if they’d ever had time to relax with their families.

“But we’re not in the Times Before,” she reminded Sara.

“We have to do something! I don’t want to be married to some guy I don’t even know.”

Neither did Ellie. “But even if we did manage to get away, how would we feed ourselves? Where could we go?”

“I know how to ride and hunt. My mom died when I was little, and my dad taught me everything he would have taught a boy. We can do it. We’ll go to my uncle and my cousins in Omaha. They’ll take care of us.”

Ellie wanted to throw up her hands. Sara made it sound as if two women strolling four hundred miles alone would have no problems, as if any men who found them wouldn’t keep them or sell them for profit, like Sara’s uncle and Mr. Moore had. She wondered if Sara had ever been disciplined in her life. If she, Ellie, had ever acted the way Sara had today, she wouldn’t have been able to sit for week. Had she ever been so young and bratty? Probably. She remembered the bemusement she’d seen on her cousin Taye’s face from time to time in the days before her marriage. “I have a cousin too.”

A wave of longing for Taye, her big, strong and over-protective older cousin, swept over her. Taye had tried to talk her husband out of taking her so far away to live. When Neal died five months ago, she had written to Taye, asking him to come and collect her and little Connor. Letters had gone also to her Gray cousins and even her estranged brother-in-law, Dane Overdahl. She had considered writing to the elders at Odessa, where she had grown up, but with her father and all his relations dead, she had decided against it. Her only living relatives were her mother’s kin, in Kearney, Nebraska, and she wrote to all of them. She had written several times since Neal’s death, but no answer ever came. She hadn’t understood why until this morning when Mr. Moore traded her for gold. All the letters she had given him to post had gone into the fire instead of the mail pouch. Taye probably didn’t even know Neal was dead. If he did, he would have come for her right away. An idea struck her.

“Sara, wait here. I’m going to talk to Mr. Thomas.”

Sara perked up. “What about?”

“I think I have a way for us for us to not become prizes in a Bride Fight.” Ellie climbed over the back of the wagon. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck. But if it doesn’t work, we’re running away.”

“Hmm,” said Ellie, noncommittal.

Rye was still reclining by the coals of the fire, and Tim, Jeremy, and Paul were there, too, drinking coffee and talking in quiet voices. They broke off when she came to Rye.

He looked up at her, his face mildly surprised. “It’ll be a long drive tomorrow. You might want to get some sleep.”

“I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, if you don’t mind.” She wiped her wet palms on her pants. “It’s business related.”

“Always glad to talk business.” Rye waved his hand at Tim, and the blond man moved a couple feet down the log so she could sit close to Rye. Rye waited in silence for her to speak. It took her a second to find the right words.

“I have a cousin who loves me. He’s pretty well off. He would pay you twice what the men of Ellsworth would if you brought me to him.”

Rye’s brows rose until they almost disappeared under his limp curls. “Twice? That would be two hundred gold.”

Ellie’s heart stuttered at the sheer amount of money. Taye couldn’t have that much. “I don’t think that will be a problem for Taye” she lied. “He dotes on me.”

“And what about Miss Nelson?”

“He will pay for her, too.”

“Four hundred gold?” Rye whistled. “Your cousin must be loaded.”

Loaded with gold, no. Loaded with sharp teeth and a wolf’s aggression, yes. Not to mention he was the head of an entire pack of men who all felt like he did. Ellie forced her hands to relax in her lap.

“Taye feels strongly about the safety of the women in his family. Actually, all women. He’ll be grateful to you if you bring me to him.”

Her knuckles ached from clenching her fists. Should she mention Taye would want her son Connor brought to him too? No, better not. Once she was safe with Taye, they would retrieve Connor from Moore’s Mill. With a stab of vindictiveness, Ellie yearned to be there to see the look on Mr. Moore’s face when Taye showed up at his place to collect Connor. She doubted Mr. Moore would live through the retrieval process. That thought relaxed her fists. Justice would be served. That hope was all she had to cling to. It would have to be enough to keep her sanity intact until she once again held her son in her arms.

“That’s a lot of money,” Rye said thoughtfully. “But we have a contract with the men of Ellsworth. If we start breaking contracts, who will trust us to deliver our goods? Besides, we got one more girl to pick up tomorrow. Sorry, Mrs. Overdahl. When you get settled in Ellsworth, you can write your cousin a letter.”

She steeled herself to deliver a gentle threat. “Taye Wolfe is not a man you want to make an enemy of, Mr. Thomas.”

Next to her, Tim jerked in an audible breath. “Taye Wolfe? Where’s he from?”

“My cousin lives near Kearney, Nebraska.”

“Shee-it,” muttered Tim. “We’re in trouble, boss.”

Rye grunted inquiringly. “You know him?”

Tim rubbed his hand over the bristles on his chin. “I know
of
him. Had a couple dealings with some of his kin.” He swallowed loud enough for Ellie to hear it. It was hard to tell in the dark, but she thought he looked pale. “She’s right, Rye. Nobody wants to mess with those wolves. Last time someone fooled with one of their women, there was hell to pay. Twenty-five men went against Taye Wolfe and his kin, and twenty-five men died.”

Rye ran a hand over his wavy hair. The waves ended in neat half curls. Ellie remembered one of Taye’s men had wavy hair like that. She’d give anything to see him or any of Taye’s men walk into the firelight this minute. “This Taye Wolfe cares about you?”

“He loves me. I am his only blood-related female cousin. His entire Clan will come for me, dozens of men.”

“Hmm. The Wolfes must be a big family. That doesn’t sound good for us.” He tugged one of his curls straight and let it spring back. “But, like I said, we have a contract with Ellsworth.” He slapped his hand on his knee. “Tell you what. I’ll send one of the boys up to Kearney to let your cousin know where you are. He can meet you in Ellsworth and speak to the men there himself. Tim, you know the guy. In the morning, ride north to Kearney as fast as you can. We’ll take our time travelling to give Wolfe a chance to get to Ellsworth before the Bride Fight.”

“Better send someone else, Rye,” Tim said. “I don’t think any of the wolves like me.”

Rye’s brow arched again. “Fine. Jer? Want to take a ride to Kearney?”

“Sure, boss. Any message for your cousin, Mrs. Overdahl?”

Her fingers were trembling. She balled her hands into fists to control it. “Tell him my husband is dead and his employer sold me and kept my son. Tell him I want to come home, and I want to bring Sara too. Tell him…” When her voice broke, she paused to force herself back under control. “Tell him to hurry.”

Jeremy had a shy smile. “Okay. I’ll tell him.”

The next morning, Sara and Ellie were told to stay in the wagon while they traveled. It was hot, but Ellie didn’t mind. The canvas top kept some of the dust out. When Sara demanded to be allowed to ride a horse, Rye told her coolly, “You’ll ride in the wagon with the rest of the merchandise, Miss Nelson. No need to flaunt the fact that we have a couple of pretty women with us if we run into any other travelers.”

“It’s hot in the wagon,” Sara said with a pout. “And the smell of the coffee makes me sick.”

Ellie enjoyed the scent of coffee more than the flavor of it. The burlap sacks of coffee beans exuded a gentle scent that reminded Ellie of Sunday mornings when she was a child. It was the only morning coffee was served in Odessa’s big communal dining room.

“You and Mrs. Overdahl will ride in the wagon,” Rye repeated. “It’ll cut down any attempts to steal our most valuable merchandise.”

“God forbid,” Sara snapped. “Thieves can have the coffee and the sugar, but not us, right?”

Rye chuckled as he swung up into the saddle. “Oh, we’d fight to keep the coffee and sugar too. They’re quiet at least.”

Ellie didn’t pay much attention to this exchange. She was watching Jeremy ride north at a quick pace. He had formally shaken her hand before he mounted, promising her he would travel as quickly as he could to get her message to Taye. Ellie said a quick, heartfelt silent prayer for his safety and speed. When she lifted her head and opened her eyes, she saw Sara staring at her with a cynical twist to her lips.

“Praying?”

Ellie looked at her until the teenager glanced away, muttering, “I guess it can’t hurt.”

“I think we can use all the help we can get. I wonder how far it is to pick up the new girl.”

Sara straightened on the wagon seat, glowing with high spirits. “I hope it’s a long way. The longer it takes, the more time your cousin has to come get us, right?”

Six hours of bouncing in a badly sprung wagon later, even Sara’s spirits were flagging. The scent of the coffee beans, which had seemed so light this morning, had strengthened in the heat of the day until Ellie hoped she never had to smell it again.

Sara patted her hand. “Are you feeling a little sick too?”

“A little.”

“I hate feeling like I’m going to throw up. I don’t remember my mom very well, but I remember her singing to me when I was sick.” A melancholy note tinged Sara’s voice. “She was a really great mom. She said I was hell on wheels, and I got plenty of spankings from her, but she loved me. She sang to me all the time.”

They had that in common. “My mom died when I was four. When did your mom die?”

“I was six. My dad was really broken up over it. He loved her so much. He loved me, too, but he didn’t sing to me. But he didn’t spank me either. Ever. He let me do whatever I wanted. When he was dying, after being shot, he told me he was sorry about that because I was in for a rude awakening.” Her voice went from pensive to defensive. “What do you think he meant by that?”

Ah. That explained Sara’s brattiness. Ellie lifted the canvas wall to get a little fresh air and to hide her face. “Well, uh…I don’t know.” She grasped for a change of topic. “Oh, look, there’s part of an old road from the Times Before.”

Sara glanced out the opening at the broken asphalt almost completely overgrown by prairie grass, but without interest. “I want a husband who will love me the way my dad loved my mom. I want to choose my own husband.”

Ellie heaved a sigh and let the canvas drop. “Hopefully we’ll be able to do that.”

“You look kind of green.” Sara offered the canteen. “Have some water. Do you want to sit on this side? I think it’s a little smoother here.”

Ellie smiled at the teenager. Sara was certainly bratty, but she was also compassionate. “Thank you. Maybe that will help.”

An hour later the wagon’s jolting smoothed out, and Ellie knew they must be on a well-tended road. She lifted the bottom of the canvas again and peeked out. They were coming to a fence whose once-white paint was chipped and faded to show the wood beneath. Sara leaned over Ellie’s lap to look out too. A sign, so weather beaten as to be almost illegible, welcomed them to the Flying D Ranch and Resort.

“The Flying D?” Sara said. “I’ve heard of this ranch. In the Times Before, it was a place where people came to get married and have parties. City dudes came to learn how to ride and rope.” Her snort was eloquent with scorn for city people who played at being cowboys. “The ranch made a lot of money that way.”