The Convenient Mail Order Bride (14 page)

Sometimes, it was the only thing that got
him through the day. He owed it to his uncle and his mother. He
owed it to every Cherokee who’d suffered at the hand of the white
men because they thought the Cherokee were beneath them.

Abe’s gaze went back to the curtains. Curse
it! He didn’t like this. If he was honest with himself, he had to
admit he liked having those curtains there. But if Phoebe and her
mother stayed, it left him vulnerable, and he didn’t like being
vulnerable.

He hated Carl Richie for putting him in this
position. Carl knew exactly what he was doing. Carl had been hoping
for this, had hoped Abe would like having her around. But Abe
couldn’t give in. Giving in would be the worst thing he could do.
He had to remember what happened to his uncle and his mother. It
hadn’t ended well for either of them. He had to stay strong. He
couldn’t allow himself to be vulnerable. Ever.

Chapter Thirteen

“W
e’re going to town?” Phoebe asked Abe the next morning as
everyone was having breakfast.

“I need to take care of something, and I
can’t leave you two here,” Abe replied, glancing between Phoebe and
her mother. “I’ll leave you with Eric. You’ll be in good
hands.”

She glanced at the eggs on her fork before
directing her gaze back to him. “What do you need to take care
of?”

He’d expected her to ask that question,
which was why he already had an answer. “I’m going to have a talk
with Carl.”

She dropped her fork on the plate. Jerking,
she hurried to gather the portion of eggs that had landed on the
table. Once it was back on her plate, she turned to him. “Why are
you going to see Carl?”

“Because I have a point to make.” When her
eyebrows furrowed and she opened her mouth to ask him another
question, he quickly added, “He needs to know I’m not going to give
up on that stream and twenty acres. My uncle was here before Carl’s
family came to this land. Carl brought you out here in hopes I’d
let it go, but I’m not. I’m going to keep fighting for it.”

He almost didn’t tell them the last part,
but he figured they had a right to know what had prompted Carl to
bring them out here.

He wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin and
set it on his plate. “Thank you for the wonderful meal. I’m going
to finish my chores. Then I’ll bring the wagon over here. We’ll
leave in about an hour.”

He stood up, fully expecting that to be the
end of the discussion, but Phoebe followed him as he left the
house. “Is that what Benny meant when he said I was a
distraction?”

Surprised by the question, he stopped as he
went down the last step of the porch and turned in her direction.
She closed the distance between them until she was in front of him,
an expectant look on her face.

“When I went to the general store, Benny
said Carl brought me here to be a distraction,” she continued. “Is
this about the stream and land?”

As much as Abe hated to be so blunt, he
didn’t see what good hiding the truth would be. And who knew? Maybe
she had to know. Maybe it’d speak some sense into her so she
wouldn’t waste the rest of her life with him.

“Yes, you are supposed to be a distraction,”
he said. “Carl brought you out here for his own benefit. He wasn’t
thinking of what was best for you. He was thinking of what was best
for him. And what’s best for him is if he keeps his claim to that
property.” He pointed toward it. “That’s what men like Carl do.
They take what they want, and when someone fights to keep it, they
set up obstacles to prevent him from keeping it.”

Her cheeks grew red, and he could tell by
the look in her eyes that this news hurt her. But what was he
supposed to do? Lie and tell her Carl’s motives were good? Men like
Carl weren’t good. The worst mistake anyone could make was in
trusting his kind.

“Phoebe,” he began, his voice taking on a
gentler tone, “you belong where men don’t use people as pawns. Your
association with me isn’t in your favor. You saw what happened with
Enoch and Benny. And now you can see why Carl brought you here.
This isn’t the kind of place a good person belongs.”

“You’re here, and you’re good.”

“I didn’t choose to be here. I was born
here. My grandparents were forced off their farm in Georgia because
of the gold. My uncle was thirteen at the time, and my mother had
just been born. My uncle and mother had three other siblings, one
brother and two sisters. My uncle was the oldest and my mother was
the youngest.

“He told me about how the white men forced
them off their land in 1838 and put them into camps while they
waited to find out what to do with them. During this time,
conditions were so bad only my grandfather, my uncle, and my mother
survived. My grandfather’s brother was one of the Cherokees who
signed the treaty to remove us from our land. The Cherokees found
out what his brother did and killed him for betraying his
people.

“My grandfather feared for the safety of my
uncle and mother because of their association with his brother and
fled north. My grandfather got sick and died along the way. It was
my uncle, who was only fourteen by then, who found this land and
built a home for himself and my mother.

“I don’t belong with the white man, and I
don’t belong with the Cherokee. This land is all I have, and I will
fight to the death to keep it. That’s what this whole thing is
about. It’s about Carl getting his hands on gold that might or
might not be in the stream. People die for gold, Phoebe. I had
aunts, an uncle, and grandparents I never knew because of it. Do
you honestly think I want to lose you over it, too? You need to get
on the stagecoach when it comes. It’s your best chance of happiness
in this life.”

Phoebe didn’t seem like she knew how to
respond to that, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d just given her so
much information there was no way she could adequately process it
all at once. She needed time to think over it. And he was sure once
she did, she would understand leaving was the best course for her
to take.

“I’ll see to it you and your mother return
to Ohio,” he said. “Then the next time you answer a mail-order
bride ad, make sure you’re going to a place big enough where if
this happens again, you have plenty of bachelors to choose from who
can provide you with a good life.”

Deciding he’d said enough, Abe went to the
barn. He spent the next hour doing the rest of the morning chores
before he hitched the horses up to his wagon. By the time he
brought the wagon to the front of the cabin, Phoebe and her mother
were waiting for him.

He couldn’t be sure what Phoebe was
thinking. Her expression didn’t show any emotion. But he did
experience a tinge of regret as he held her hand to help her up.
This was ridiculous. He should be glad. She would be getting out of
here. She’d have a better future elsewhere.

Reminding himself of this, he turned back to
help her mother. To his surprise, her mother said, “You give Carl
what’s coming to him,” and then hopped up onto the wagon.

He wasn’t sure if Phoebe had told her
everything he’d said but decided it didn’t matter. The important
thing was they weren’t going to fight him. It’d be much too
difficult if they refused to go into town and let Eric keep an eye
on them.

He tried not to pay attention to Phoebe, who
sat between him and her mother. She couldn’t help how close she was
sitting. There was, after all, only so much room on the seat. But
just as he’d been aware of how nice and soft she was the day he
took them to Travis’ place, he was as much aware of her today.

He gripped the reins. He was going to give
Carl what was coming to him.

As he hoped, Eric was in the jailhouse and
was willing to watch Phoebe and her mother.

“Make sure they don’t give Phoebe or her
mother any trouble,” Abe whispered to Eric, nodding toward Benny
and Enoch, who were sitting in their cells.

Eric assured him he’d keep Phoebe and her
mother in the small room where they would be safe from them.

Thanking him, Abe left the jailhouse, not
bothering to look at the men in the cell. It still burned him when
he thought of the way they’d treated Phoebe. If either one of them
made eye contact with him, he’d be likely to do something to make
Eric lose faith in him.

When he was back on the wagon and heading
out toward Carl’s place, he was able to release his breath. He
wasn’t even aware he’d been holding it. It was much easier to deal
with things when he didn’t have someone to worry about.

By the time he pulled his wagon up to Carl’s
cabin, he heard some yelling. If he was right, Carl and his wife
were arguing. Abe wasn’t privy to Carl’s private life. Nor did he
care about it. His main concern was getting that stream and
acreage. Making sure his gun was secure in the holster, he set the
brake and got down from the wagon. Something shattered from inside
the cabin, and Abe reconsidered talking to Carl.

But then the door flung open, and Carl, who
had his back turned to Abe, yelled, “You’re not so great either,
Lydia! Go on back to the bottle. At least you sleep when you’re
drunk.”

Carl slammed the door and turned to head
down the steps. He paused as soon as he saw Abe. His eyes grew
wide, and he glanced back at the house where his wife was still
yelling something about what a “no good excuse for a husband” he
was.

For a moment, Abe felt a little sorry for
Carl. The gash on the side of Carl’s head was proof it’d been Lydia
who’d thrown the object that had shattered, and blood was trickling
down his cheek. But the sympathy only lasted a moment. Who knew
what Carl had done to deserve the injury?

Abe crossed the distance to him, opting not
to put his hand on the revolver at his side. Carl wasn’t armed, and
that being the case, he didn’t pose a threat. “I’m taking that
stream and twenty acres,” Abe told Carl, not bothering to wait for
him to speak. “The judge is due here in three weeks, and he’s going
to force you to give it back to me. You sending for Phoebe isn’t
going to change anything.”

Carl didn’t answer right away. Instead, he
reached into his back pocket and pulled out the handkerchief. He
wiped the blood from the side of his face. “I need that property,
Abe.”

“I need it more. More than that, my uncle
was here first, and he claimed it. It’s mine.”

“You got a well that never dries out, and
it’s closer to your cabin.”

“That’s not the point. You look at that
stream, and all you think about is how much gold’s in there.”

Carl rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”

When Carl walked around him, Abe followed
him to the barn. “If you’re so tired of hearing me, give me what’s
rightfully mine, and I’ll go away.”

“Your ma signed the stream over to Pa to do
what he saw fit with it, and he gave it to me in the will. Not
you.”

“My mother lost her wits after my uncle
died, and your father took advantage of that. You know it wasn’t a
fair deal.”

As they entered the barn, Carl turned to
face him. “He was your father, too. Whether we like it or not,
we’re related. I don’t like what Pa did any more than you do. Your
mother didn’t lose her wits. She knew what she was doing. She let
him into her bed knowing full well he was a married man.”

“She had no choice,” Abe snapped. “You white
men come in and take everything you want without asking. What was
she supposed to do? Say no and let him rape or kill her?”

Carl let out a bitter laugh and wiped more
blood from his face. “Rape her? He didn’t rape her. He loved her.
It wasn’t easy growing up knowing he’d rather be with your mother
instead of mine, and it wasn’t easy growing up in your shadow.” He
pointed to Abe’s wagon, his expression dark. “That property is the
one good thing Pa gave me, and I’m keeping it.”

“No, you’re not!”

Carl shoved him, and Abe fell onto his back.
But Abe quickly rose to his feet and lunged for Carl. Carl grunted
and landed on a pile of hay he’d gathered to feed his horses.
Before Carl had time to get up, Abe grabbed him by the collar.

“You can’t imagine all the hardships my
family went through to come here. And my uncle died protecting that
land and my mother. All you white men do is steal whatever you
want. But I’m not letting you use that property to satisfy your
greed.”

Carl swung at him, but Abe lifted his arm
and blocked the punch. With a grunt, Carl swept his leg under Abe.
Abe failed to react fast enough and tripped, pulling Carl with him
so that both landed on the floor. Carl pushed Abe away and
scrambled to his feet.

“Greed?” Carl spat. “You want to talk about
greed? You and your mother stole my pa from me and my ma.” This
time he managed to punch Abe.

Ignoring the sting of pain in his jaw, Abe
swung back, his fist landing right on Carl’s nose. He was about to
get in another punch when a bullet fired through the air.