Gerrity'S Bride (25 page)

His chuckle was muffled against her as he nipped lightly at her bottom lip, and his hands moved leisurely across her back, then settled at her waist.

“Hell, Emmaline, I’ll never get anything done today if I’m not careful. You sure taste good, lady,” he muttered, against her flesh.

“You only asked for a kiss,” she reminded him. “No, I take that back, you commanded me to kiss you.” Her mouth smiled against his, and she whispered softly, her lips brushing against his with every syllable, “You’ll notice, I obeyed, just like a good wife.”

“Damn,” he growled, setting her aside with purpose and scowling at the teasing light in her eyes. “You are a handful, girl.” He snapped his leather gloves from his back pocket and thrust his hands into them, his frown well in place.

“You’ll be the death of me yet, Emmaline Gerrity,” he grumbled, heading for the hallway. “Just stay put, you hear?”

* * *

The sadness inherent in the story never ceased to move her, and today was no exception, Emmaline thought as she wiped tears that flowed, blurring the words on the page before her.
A Tale of Two Cities,
leather-bound and dog-eared, lay in her lap as she mourned the heroes of that day, sniffing her sadness and enjoying the coolness of her bedroom.

There’d not been a word from Tessie in hours, she realized. Probably taking a nap or playing with her doll, she thought with a damp smile. She urged herself to her feet, realizing the length of time she’d spent indulging herself.

The book replaced on a shelf near the bed and her face splashed with water from the pitcher on her dressing table, she set off to look for her small sister. With only a perfunctory rap on Tessie’s bedroom door, she opened it and peeked inside. The room was empty, the window open to the courtyard, the curtains hanging to either side in the stillness of the afternoon.

“Tessie?” she called quietly, inquiringly, even as she recognized the silence of the empty room.

Stepping back, she frowned and headed for the kitchen. “She’s probably pestering Maria,” she whispered to herself, her face brightening at the thought.

But she wasn’t. The kitchen was empty, Maria having retired to the wide veranda at the front of the house, away from the sun, where she sat dozing, a pan of beans in her lap.

“Tessie’s not here?” Emmaline scanned the yard, looking for the small figure. But to no avail. Tessie was not on the low porch with Maria, and with only the sparse bushes and low ground cover for concealment, she was obviously nowhere in sight.

Maria’s head lifted and turned, her eyes blinking away the residue of her nap. “Isn’t she with you? Or in her room?” she asked, frowning her confusion.

Emmaline shook her head. “I was reading. When I went to look for her, she was gone.” She shaded her eyes with one hand and looked out from the house, as if she might spy a small form on the horizon.

“She wouldn’t have gone out there,” Maria said. “There’s nothing there but what you see, and even less of it farther south.”

“Where’s Olivia?” Emmaline asked urgently. “Maybe she took Tessie for a walk or something.”

“Huh!” Maria’s grunt was disparaging. “I haven’t seen her all afternoon. That woman is never around lately. I think maybe she has finally taken her eyes from Mr. Matt and settled on one of the cowhands.”

Emmaline’s look of disbelief was obvious. “I can’t imagine that would be her style,” she said bluntly. “But if she isn’t with Tessie, maybe I’d better look in the barn.” Her steps were hurried as she walked to the end of the veranda. Stepping off, she headed around the side of the house. She moved quickly, breathing deeply, aware of her rapidly beating heart and the sudden, dreadful anticipation that gripped her.

The path to the barn had never seemed so long. The air had never been so still, and the sky never so blue.

“No, ma’am, I sure ain’t seen her,” Claude said, removing his hat and smoothing down his sparse gray hair. “Come to think of it, her horse was in the corral before dinnertime. Maybe... Naw, one of the hands probably put it away.”

“Her horse?” Emmaline’s heart pumped faster. “Is the mare still here?”

“Aw, I’m sure it is, ma’am. Let’s just take a look down here in her stall.” He moved as he spoke, his gait quick, his arms pumping.

The stall was empty, and Emmaline’s throat was suddenly filled with a lump that threatened to choke her.

“Well, mebbe she’s out yonder in the corral. Might have missed her before,” Claude mumbled beneath his breath as he swung wide the half door that led outside.

“Well, I’ll be switched,” he growled, casting a worried look about the pole-fenced area. “You don’t suppose that young’n set off for a ride by herself, do you?”

“I don’t know. She was mad at Matt at the dinner table, and he sent her to her room, you know.”

“Yeah, I heard, but she oughta know better than to ride out of here alone. I’ll take a walk around and see what I can see, anyway.”

“Saddle my mare.” Emmaline’s tone left no room for argument, and Claude recognized that.

“I don’t know that you should do that, Miss Emmaline,” he said, his face reflecting his doubt. “I just know Mr. Matt won’t like it.”

“‘Mr. Matt’ isn’t here, and I am,” Emmaline answered.

* * *

The three young steers were determined to be a handful, but the cow pony took it in his stride, and Matt made his way to Guismann’s store in short order. It was a dusty job, and he had his mouth set for a schooner of beer at the Golden Garter when he’d completed his business with Abraham.

“I hear the sheriff was going to head out your way this afternoon,” Abraham told him. “Said it was important.”

Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”

“He might still be around. He was in here ‘bout half an hour ago or so.” He calculated the credit to Matt’s account, writing the amount in his large black book, then watched as Matt’s tall figure left his store.

The sheriff’s office was empty, and Matt stood on the boardwalk, hands on his hips, as he considered his next move.

“Sheriff’s over at the hotel, lookin’ for the deputy,” a small boy volunteered as Matt looked back at the empty jailhouse.

“Thanks, son,” he answered, his stride hurried as he made his way across the street.

The lawman and his young aide were just stepping from the hotel door as he approached. Hailey Baines looked worried.

“Got something to show you, Matt,” the older man said soberly. “A poster came in this afternoon I want you to see. We were just about to head out your way to show it to you.”

“Where is it?” His frown had deepened, apprehension roughening his voice.

Hailey pulled it from his inside vest pocket and unfolded the heavy paper. “Can’t tell for sure. The drawing’s kinda blurred, but it sure as hell looks like one of your hands. It says here he’s wanted for killin’ a man in a barroom fight in Texas.”

“Let me see.” Almost snatching the paper from the sheriff, Matt scanned it quickly. “Aw, hell!” He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“What do you think, Matt?”

“You know what I think, Hailey. If this isn’t Kane, my apologies to the man. But I’d lay odds that I’ve been payin’ a gunfighter good money out at my ranch.”

“Let’s take a ride, boy,” the sheriff told his deputy, and the young man hurried off to retrieve the horses tied in front of the jailhouse.

“My horse is over at the livery stable,” Matt said, hustling down the street as he spoke. “I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

“Matt!” The call was strident, and he turned to answer it.

Hailey Baines stood in the middle of the street, his face was pulled into a worried frown. “Where’s Emmaline?”

“Emmaline?” As he spoke her name, he felt a wave of apprehension wash through him. “She promised me she wouldn’t leave the house this afternoon. I sure as hell hope she keeps her word.”

“There might not be any connection, Matt,” Hailey assured him. But the frown remained well in place.

T
he water in the creek was just as cool, rippling over the stones and washing about her feet, as it had been the last time she stood here. But today was different, and Tessie looked about with disconsolate eyes as she waded halfheartedly along the bank.

Miss Olivia had said that it would be a secret, that they didn’t have to tell Matt about riding out here, but Tessie had begun to worry even before the ranch house was out of sight. Now the deed was done, and her small countenance darkened as she thought about it once more.

“But then,” she whispered, her face brightening a bit, “it will be all right. Miss Olivia knows where I am, and she said she’d send Emmie out to get me in a while.” It was all the excuse she needed. Her smile was relieved, with the situation once more to her liking. Between her dismay and anger, and the urging of her teacher, she had justified the ride to the north with childish reasoning.

“Matt will be sorry he was so mean to me, when he can’t find me anywhere,” she said to herself. The water splashed about her ankles, but the joy she’d found here last time was missing today, she realized.

Her horse stood just a few feet away, absorbed in the grass that grew near the creek, his reins tossed over the limbs of a bush. She’d slid from his back slowly, worried that her brother would be angry. Taking her horse from the corral without permission was enough to get her the whipping Matt had promised, but never given, for major misbehavior.

Tessie’s eyes were filled with tears of self-pity. “I’m really mad at you, Matthew,” she said stiffly. “You were mean to me.” Her mouth was drawn into a sad little moue and her hands were stuffed into the puffy pockets Maria had sewn with such care onto her pinafore.

“I wonder if he’ll be worried about me....” Kicking at the water, she watched it splash on the hem of her dress, even though she held it in both hands, high above the stream. Turning about, she headed back the way she had come and finally climbed up on the bank, where she sat dejectedly, a picture of woe.

It was quiet, only the rippling water and the sound of the horse snuffling in the grass, and an occasional sniffle from the child who sat hunched over by the creek bank, disturbing the silence. The heat of the afternoon lay heavy upon her, and Tessie yawned into her hand, looking about her sleepily.

Finally, with a little sigh of discontent, she lay down on the grass, curling her legs up beneath the dampness of her skirt and resting her head on one arm.

“I’ll just rest a little bit, before I go back,” she promised herself in a whisper. “I wonder why Emmie didn’t come to get me yet? An’ I just bet Matt’s gonna be awful mad at me,” she said mournfully, as several more tears slid from beneath her heavy eyelids. And then she slept.

* * *

The ride to where they had picnicked hadn’t seemed nearly so long last time she came this way, Emmaline thought impatiently. That afternoon had been joyous, a few hours she had tucked into her memory and had taken out to examine several times already. Matt had never been so relaxed, so teasing, so filled with laughter.

And she was certain Tessie had headed this way. “If she’s not out here, I won’t know where to look,” she admitted to herself as Fancy followed her lead, heading north toward the stream.

Filled with the disappointment of losing Rose’s company after such a short visit, Tessie’d been fit to be tied, she knew.

“I should have spent the whole afternoon with her.” Emmaline grumbled aloud, chastising herself. “Maybe Olivia went with her.” The thought was hopeful, but then, as quickly as it had come, she realized the futility of it.

Fancy’s gait had slowed with Emmaline’s ponderings, and now she urged her forward at a lope, heading for the picnic spot, catching sight finally of the line of trees that bordered the creek. Within her heart, she was hoping against hope that Tessie would be there.

The sight of a riderless horse in the distance, grazing beneath the trees, caused her knees to tighten against the sides of her mare, and Fancy broke into a gallop that mirrored the urgency of her rider. So intent was she on the small mare she recognized as Tessie’s, she failed to notice the horse and rider approaching at an angle from the west, less than half a mile away.

Reaching to rub her hand against the neck of her mount, she leaned forward in a silent plea for speed, and the mare responded, her hooves pounding the earth with a muffled cadence. Suddenly, from her left, Emmaline heard the sound of rifle fire, and she turned to look, her hands tightening on the reins. Her eyes focused disbelievingly on the rider who approached, his gun pointing skyward, his horse angling in toward her.

“Who on earth—” She risked a second glance at him, at his face, covered by the bandanna he wore, and her heart skipped a beat. A certainty that Tessie was in danger flooded her mind, and she hesitated, drawing up tighter on her reins. Fancy obeyed, skidding to a halt in a dusty cloud that surrounded them.

He held his rifle at the ready, and Emmaline watched his approach with frustration filling her, her fear for Tessie holding her there. “If he knows Tessie’s out here...” Her whisper was almost a prayer. And again she breathed words beneath her breath. “Oh, God! Keep her safe! Don’t let anything happen to my sister.”

“You’re a smart lady,” the rider said mockingly, riding his horse near her. “I thought a little rifle fire would get your attention.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” she blurted out, her eyes intent on him, hoping against hope that he would not look toward the small horse that was cropping grass just a few hundred yards to the north.

“Well, I reckon you’ll find out all that, lady,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “You just ride over some closer to me, and I’ll wrap a little rope around your hands, and we’ll take a ride. I’ll lead you along as sweet as you please.”

She glared at him, barely able to endure the look gleaming from his gaze. Just the thought of his hands on her filled Emmaline with disgust, and she shuddered visibly. “Are you the same one who grabbed me off the porch?”

Even with the bandanna covering his nose and mouth, she could tell he was smiling, his eyes narrowing as they roamed over her. “Recognized me, huh?” He motioned to her to come closer, a rope held in his hand. “If you’re thinkin’ I don’t know your little sister is over yonder, yer dead wrong,” he told her with raw menace in every word.

Her heart thumped mercilessly in her chest as she digested his threat. Getting him away from Tessie was her prime concern, and there was no guarantee that allowing herself to be trussed up would turn him away from the child. Turning in her saddle, she glared at him again, and then, feigning surprise, looked over his shoulder.

“Who’s that coming?” she cried.

“Where?” He stretched his neck, then turned a bit as he searched the horizon to the south.

It was exactly what she had hoped he’d do, and she dug her heels into the sides of her mare with desperation. Loosing the reins and leaning forward against Fancy’s neck, she sent the Thoroughbred galloping. The animal stretched out above the ground at a pace that left her pursuer behind.

Heading northwest, away from the stream, away from the man who shouted and spurred his own mount into action, Emmaline rode her mare with desperation. The knowledge that she was heading away from the ranch was a deterrent, but staying clear of Tessie was more important.

Ahead, the ground rose, and she urged Fancy on, sensing that over the ridge she would be out of sight of her pursuer for a few moments. Maybe...

Her eyes widened with surprise as another horse and rider appeared before her, coming into view as if he had been awaiting her arrival. But it wasn’t a man, Emmaline realized with amazement. Seated atop a cow pony, holding a gun aimed in her direction, was a woman, riding astride and watching her with a smile.

“Olivia.” Emmaline breathed the single word and slowed the pace of her horse, tugging at the reins. Fancy sidestepped, dancing impatiently as she tossed her head.

“Stay right there,” the teacher said, aiming a revolver in Emmaline’s direction.

“Olivia!” Again she breathed the word, but this time with dawning comprehension.

“Stay where you are,” the man said, riding up behind her.

With startling clarity, she looked about, realizing she didn’t have any options to speak of. There didn’t appear to be any way she could escape. Certainly there would be none if she was tied and led by the reins.

I haven’t anything to lose, she thought despairingly. If they want me, they’ll have to catch me. There was no other direction to head in. She was boxed in on the south and northwest. Ahead lay mountains and the high country. Her chances were as good there as anywhere else.

Fancy responded, almost as if she read the mind of her rider, and even before Emmaline gave her the signal, she had burst into a ground-eating run that surprised both of her enemies. Just long enough for her to be yards away, they sat in stunned silence.

“That bitch!” the man spit out with evil intent.

“Calling names won’t do any good. Shoot her!” Olivia told him. “Take aim and kill her now.”

“I’ll catch her,” he said, even as his horse set off at a gallop.

“Damn fool. I’ll do it myself, then.” She gritted the words out between her teeth, drawing her rifle to her shoulder. The barrel wavered as she took aim, closing one eye as she tried to sight in on Emmaline’s back. The Thoroughbred was blurred in the gunsight, racing with the speed of her sire and dam multiplied by the urging of her rider.

Olivia grunted and squeezed the trigger, then opened both eyes to watch as the horse crumpled to the ground. Fancy lifted her head and made a terrible noise, almost as if she were screaming in distress, and then shuddered as she lay flat against the hard ground.

“Fool woman!” the man shouted, jumping from his horse and running the few feet to where Emmaline was sprawled. “Probably killed the horse. It’s bleedin’ like a stuck pig!”

He bent to turn Emmaline’s silent figure over, noting the lump that was already appearing on her forehead. Then, turning his attention to the horse that lay just a few feet away, he watched as the animal struggled to rise to her feet. Blood streamed from her left hindquarter, and he moved closer, shaking his head angrily as Fancy sank once more to the ground.

“Never mind the horse. Just pick Emmaline up and let’s get going,” Olivia said from behind him.

He pulled the kerchief from his face and turned to snarl at her with impotent rage. “I was hopin’ to take that horse with me when I go. I coulda sold her and made a few bucks in the bargain.”

Olivia rolled her eyes in disgust. “You’re already making a few bucks from me,” she reminded him darkly. “Now see if the bride is still breathing, will you?”

He shrugged dismissively. “She’s alive. I already checked.” Bending, he picked up her limp form and stepped to his horse. Holding her beneath his left arm, he lifted her, laying her inert body across the saddle. He stepped into the stirrup to settle himself there, picking her up to lay her across his thighs.

“Let’s go,” he said roughly, heading north with his burden.

“It would be easier to just leave her here. All you’d have to do is put a bullet in her head, and you could leave, just get out of the territory,” Olivia snapped.

“I don’t shoot women,” he said angrily. “If she dies all by herself up there in that line shack, that’s one thing. Shootin’ her isn’t my way of doin’ things.”

“I don’t want to be away from the house much longer,” Olivia told him.

“Then go on back. Just remember to have my money out behind the barn after midnight,” he said. Tilting his hat forward over his eyes, he looked his fill, his eyes measuring and chill. “Don’t forget what else you owe me,” he reminded her, each syllable precise and filled with promise. Then, turning his back, he urged his horse forward.

She glared, frustration rife upon her features. The sun was well on its way toward the horizon. It wouldn’t do for her to be missing at supper time.

* * *

“Where’s Emmaline?” Matt’s words were sharp and urgent.

“She went after Theresa,” Maria said, her hands buried in the folds of her white apron as she stood on the porch. She’d been pacing the areas around the house for over an hour, and only the sight of Matt with two other riders had relieved her anguish.

“Where’d Tessie go?” Matt asked angrily. “They were both supposed to stay in the house.”

“I know! I know!” Maria cried. “But the little one left while I cleaned the beans for supper and Miss Emmaline was in her room. When we knew she was gone, Miss Emmaline went after her. She thought Tessie probably went to the stream where you took them the other day.”

“Did Tessie ride? Who saddled her horse for her?” His voice lowered to an alarming softness as he spoke, promising retribution to the culprit.

“It was already saddled, boss,” said Claude, coming from the barn at a run. “She and her little friend were ridin’ in the corral before dinner, and she snuck back out here and took the mare before anyone knew it.”

“Awww...” Matt spun his horse about and muttered words beneath his breath that made Maria’s eyes widen.

“Will they be all right?” she asked pitifully, lifting her apron to cover her face, knowing that she would receive no answer.

Matt wheeled away, his horse ready to lunge into a gallop, but then the sight of a lone rider approaching from beyond the corral brought him to a halt. Drawing rein abruptly, he bent to reassure his horse, quieting the animal’s prancing with soothing words.

The sight of Olivia astride a horse was a surprise to Matt. He hadn’t even known she rode; in fact, he’d never separated her from the vision of a teacher. Now he watched her ride toward him, his eyes narrowed, his every sense alert to an unknown danger.

“Where’ve you been?” The question was quiet, but the penetrating gaze sweeping horse and rider was chilling. She halted her mount near him, lifting her hand in a gesture of supplication.

“I went looking for Theresa,” she explained, her cheeks flushed, her clothing dusty from her ride. “She said she was going to play at the stream, even after I told her not to.”