The Reluctant Bride (2 page)

“I’ll take your purse and check for myself,” he said. He waited for Dorrie to hand it to him, then turned to Tanzy. “You don’t look like you got two pennies to rub together,” he sneered. He was obviously angry he’d found so little. He snatched her purse out of her grasp without waiting for her to hand it to him.

“Hurry up,” the other bandit called. “We can’t be standing out here in the open forever.”

The bandit dug around in Dorrie’s purse, taking out first one thing then another, pocketing the money and tossing each rejected item on the ground despite Dorrie’s protests. “I never knowed a fancy-dressed lady to be so poor,” he said, handing back Dorrie’s purse. He dumped the contents of Tanzy’s purse on the ground, then cursed violently when he found neither valuables nor money.

“Get a move on,” his companion said. “What’s holding you up?”

“I’m gonna have a look through their trunks.”

“Well, hurry up. We ain’t got no cover.”

The first bandit crossed to the back of the stage and started to unfasten the cover over the boot. The crack of a rifle followed swiftly by a cry of pain from the other bandit caused him to jump back, a frightened look on his face. His companion slumped in the saddle and, clutching his shoulder, spurred his horse and raced away from the stage. The first bandit ran, cursing, to his horse, mounted up, and swiftly followed his cohort. A second rifle shot failed to find its mark. Moments later a horseman galloped up to the stage.

“Is anybody hurt?”

Dorrie started to explain that the bandits wanted only their valuables, but the rider, apparently sensing everyone was all right, was already galloping after the bandits.

“Who is he?” Tanzy asked.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s Russ Tibbolt,” the stagecoach driver said.

Tanzy’s heart lurched in her breast. Russ Tibbolt was the man she had come to marry! He’d said nothing in his letters about being a lawman. She’d had enough of men with guns.

“I’ve heard he doesn’t have a good reputation,” Dorrie said after the driver had retrieved the contents of their purses and they had resumed their journey.

“What do you mean?” Tanzy asked. “Isn’t he a lawman?”

“He’s a rancher who sells beef to the Indians on occasion, but my husband says he’s a dangerous character.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I never asked.”

If Russ Tibbolt wasn’t a lawman, what was he doing chasing the bandits?

Whatever he was, her brief meeting had told Tansy he was more handsome than she’d ever expected. A strong nose and generous mouth gave his face a definite sensuality. A prominent chin and jaw spoke of a man with a strong will accustomed to sweeping aside opposition. His cobalt blue eyes looked out at her from under heavy brows shaded by the wide brim of his hat. Tanzy had always believed a man’s face was a map of his character, his eyes the window to his soul, but Russ Tibbolt hadn’t given her time to peer inside.

As they approached Boulder Gap, Dorrie lost interest in anything but the impending reunion with her husband. Only half listening, Tanzy’s thoughts centered on Russ Tibbolt. Until now she’d known him only as the author of captivating letters so down to earth and at the same time so charming, she’d overcome her reluctance to promise herself to a man she’d never met. How could she reconcile that man to one of dangerous reputation who chased bandits? If she hadn’t been at the end of her journey, she might have turned around right then.

But there was nothing to go back to. Her only hope was to go forward. And that meant Boulder Gap and Russ Tibbolt.

The town didn’t impress Tanzy. After St. Louis, it looked more like a collection of false-fronted shanties, most of which looked like they’d blow over during the first winter blizzard. The paint, if the buildings had ever been painted, had chipped off, leaving everything a weathered gray. The jail, the only non-wooden structure, appeared to have been built out of mismatched stone. The street was a churned-up mass of mud and manure. Tanzy had no idea how a lady was supposed to cross the street from one boardwalk to the other. At the very least, a pair of very serviceable boots would be required. Fortunately everything she had was serviceable.

A young man in uniform appeared the moment the stagecoach came to a stop

“That’s my husband,” Dorrie said, smiling happily and introducing them. “Do you see your friend?”

“No, but he said I was to wait if he wasn’t here.” Russ had been riding away from town. She had no idea how long it would take him to return, but being alone in Boulder Gap couldn’t be any worse than being alone in St. Louis. She was glad to be relieved of the torture of a stagecoach that rattled every bone in her body and made her almost too sore to sleep.

“You can come with us if you like,” Dorrie said.

“Thank you, but I’ll stay here.”

“There’s no stage station,” the officer said. “You’ll have to wait on the boardwalk.”

“I don’t mind. It will be easier for him to see me.”

“And everybody else as well.”

Tanzy thanked the couple, then turned her attention to making sure all her luggage was taken off the stagecoach. It wasn’t much, but it was everything she owned.

“You want me to take it to the hotel?” the driver asked Tanzy.

“No. Just leave it here.”

The man looked relieved but said, “You can’t just sit here on the boardwalk. It ain’t safe.”

“Who would harm me in broad daylight?” She looked around. Several men who looked in need of a bath, clean clothes, and a shave were showing an interest in her, but nobody looked dangerous. Except for their boots and hats, they looked a lot like the men back in Kentucky.

“If you sit out here by yourself, a body might think you was trying to invite a certain kind of interest,” the driver said.

“I’m quite capable of correcting any such misapprehension,” Tanzy said. Her six months in St. Louis had given her plenty of experience.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you over to the hotel?”

“Thank you, but I’m being met.”

To her relief, the driver gave up and climbed back into his box. He slapped the reins, yelled at the horses. The stage drove off and soon disappeared.

It wasn’t too hot in the sun, but she still hadn’t gotten used to sun coming at her from all angles. Back home, no matter how hot the day, she could always find a deeply shaded glade or a cold stream to make the heat bearable. Out here men sweated until it soaked through their clothes, but nobody seemed to mind. She already knew they smelled bad. She’d had to sit next to too many people—male and female—during the last thousand miles.

Several women stopped to speak, to ask if she was staying, and to welcome her to Boulder Gap. She talked to so many people she was beginning to feel conspicuous. She decided she wouldn’t feel so self-conscious sitting on the boardwalk if she had something to do, so she started to take a mental walk through the town. Boulder Gap had only one business street, and most of the buildings seemed to be saloons and restaurants. She noted a bank, a hotel, a lawyer’s office, a surveyor, an assayer, a dentist, a doctor, a general emporium, a blacksmith’s shop and livery stable, several banks, a bath house, a dance hall, a boot and saddle shop, a hardware, a dry goods, a newspaper called
The Weekly Echo,
and a Wells Fargo office. There was even a shop that made ladies’ dresses and hats!

“You lost?”

Tanzy looked up to see three roughly dressed men watching her from close range.

“I’m waiting for my friend to pick me up.
He
should be here any minute.”

“If I was your friend, I wouldn’t leave you sitting out here without no one to make sure you weren’t bothered,” a large and heavily bearded man said. “Somebody’s liable to think you was looking for some likely man who’s interested.”

“That somebody would be very wrong,” Tanzy said.

“It’s hot,” another said. “Why don’t you let us buy you something to drink at Stocker’s Saloon?”

Tanzy wasn’t about to trust her luggage to the goodness of the citizens of Boulder Gap. Or her reputation to these men.

“Thank you, but my friend wouldn’t know where to find me.”

“We could keep a look out for him.”

“I prefer to stay here.”

“You’re blocking the street,” said another.

“I’m sure the good citizens of Boulder Gap won’t mind stepping around me for a few more minutes.”

“Are these men bothering you?”

Tanzy didn’t know the stranger who spoke to her, but she knew he was important by the way he was dressed. She knew he was powerful by the way the three rough men backed away.

“They were just trying to make sure I wasn’t lost.”

“More likely they were trying to take advantage of you. Get out of town, or I’ll have the sheriff lock you up.”

“We got a right to be here,” said the first man who’d spoken.

“Sorry they should be your introduction to our fair town,” the man said as the three ruffians reluctantly moved away.

“My introduction was a very nice army officer’s wife.”

“Delighted to hear it. My name is Stocker Pullett. I own the biggest ranch in Colorado. I also own the Stocker Hotel and Restaurant. Let me invite you to join me for a cool drink.”

“Thank you, but I’d better stay where my friends can find me. They told me not to worry if they weren’t here when I arrived, just to wait and they’d be here soon.”

“It’s hard to predict traveling time, but if I’d been the one meeting you, I’d have come into town last night and stayed at the hotel to make sure I was here when you got off the stage.”

“I expect they would have if circumstances hadn’t prevented it.”

She didn’t know why she should have taken an instant dislike to this man. He seemed a prefect example of a successful businessman—well-dressed, impeccably groomed, well-spoken, courteous, well-mannered. He looked to be fifty years old, probably married with a houseful of grown children and thus unlikely to have designs on her virtue.

“Howdy, Stocker,” a well-dressed woman said as she approached. “My husband’s been looking for you.”

“What about, Daisy?”

“We lost more cows last night.”

“How many?”

“Bill doesn’t know, but it’s the second time since spring. There’s a meeting in the church now. You gotta come. Everybody’s waiting for you.”

He looked back to Tanzy, hesitating.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Go to your meeting.”

He still looked undecided, but when the woman pulled at his sleeve and said, “Stop wasting time,” he gave in and left.

Tanzy was relieved. She didn’t know what it was about Stocker that was so overpowering—his abundant self-confidence or his determination to bend others to his will—but she’d had more than enough of men who had no respect for the wishes of others. She intended to make it plain to Russ that she would not be his chattel, that he must respect her as a Woman and an individual. She felt confident the man in the letters would do that. She wasn’t at all sure about the man chasing the bandits.

The minutes continued to collect until another hour had passed. It would soon be dark. She couldn’t stay here. She gazed at the sun. It would set in an hour, maybe less. She stopped a boy who was kicking clods and picking his teeth with a straw. “Young man,” she said, “would you mind watching my luggage for a moment?”

“How much will you pay me?”

She had expected he would do it out of courtesy. “How much would you expect?”

“A dollar.”

“I can get a hotel room for that price. How about a nickel?”

“Don’t be gone long. I’m expected home for supper.”

The mention of food reminded Tanzy she hadn’t eaten since morning. She hoped she had enough money to pay for a room and her dinner.

“What’s your name?” Tanzy asked.

“Richard Benton, but everybody calls me Tardy.”

“Let me guess: because you’re never where you’re supposed to be on time.”

His smile was brazen and innocent at the same time. “Something like that.”

“Which hotel do you recommend?”

“A lady like you probably ought to stay in the Stocker Hotel, but if it was my money, I’d stay at the boardinghouse. They got the best food.”

The building he indicated didn’t look inviting. Neither did the men going in and out. “I think I’ll try the Stocker Hotel.”

“Thought you would. A lady wouldn’t want to be rubbing elbows at a trestle table with miners and whatnot.”

“I have no objection to miners, but I’m not so sure about the whatnots.”

Tardy grinned. “I’ll help you carry your luggage in for another nickel.”

Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

The Stocker Hotel appeared to be clean and neat, but that was about the best that could be said of it. The decorations were ordinary, the smell all too familiar.

“I’d like a room,” she said when the clerk appeared through a door behind the counter.

“It’ll be a dollar,” he said. She started to get her money. “You pay when you leave.”

“I’ll be here only one night. I’d rather pay now.”