The Trail Master's Bride (18 page)

Obviously upset, she pushed out of his arms as though she couldn’t bear his touch and stepped back. Sniffling, she bowed her head, refusing to look at him.

“Mina, I expect your rear end to be on the bench when I get back. We’ll finish talking about this when we make camp tonight.”

“Is that when I’ll receive another little lesson?” Her voice was quiet, but held a bite of animosity that he didn’t care for at all.

“I didn’t say that, but I suggest you mind your tongue or you’ll be heading that way. Do as I say now while I see to the team.”

“Yes, sir,” she said quietly, without sarcasm this time, with no inflection at all, in fact. He feared her retreat was more than physical. Quickly, he pulled her back, tipping her chin up so he could see her face. The pain and disappointment there were palpable.

“Darlin’, don’t take on so. You’re tired. It’s easy to make mistakes when you’re not used to months on end on the trail. Once we’re home and settled, we’ll put all of this discord behind us.” He lowered his head and brushed her lips with a soft kiss, frowning when she didn’t respond. “Mina.”

“I’m sure we’re falling behind schedule as we speak.” Her tone was flat, the volume well-modulated to a level of indifference. “While you tend the oxen, I’ll do as you asked, clean up, and wait for you on the bench.” Before he could say more, she turned her back to him, folding blankets and stowing away gear.

At a loss as to what to do next, he went to find Jacobs and borrow some tools.

* * *

After straightening up the mess she’d made, Mina climbed onto the wagon seat to wait. Although extremely upset over the loss of her family heirloom, which meant so much more to her, she was devastated over Weston once again doubting her. The reasonable side of her said she couldn’t blame him. Always the evidence pointed to her. Her heart ached. On top of it, she was downright angry, although she had locked that feeling away deep inside. Having come out a loser in all the previous showdowns with her husband when she’d been in a fit of temper, she decided a different approach was warranted. Not to mention she was perplexed and needed time to think. Why did these things keep happening to her? It had to be one of the other train members; there really was no other explanation.

She felt the wagon shift under his weight as he returned. She didn’t turn to him as she usually did, not even when his booted footsteps announced his arrival. At an impasse, him not believing her and her espousing her innocence, she refused to take another of his little lessons, not for this, not when she wasn’t at fault. She’d fight him tooth and nail if he got the notion to spank her again when she’d done nothing wrong.

Feeling his presence behind her, she steeled herself to be still, keeping her back to him.

“I’m not ready to talk to you, husband; maybe by next month, better yet, next year when my anger might have faded enough for me to have a civil tongue, but not today and not tonight.”

“Elliott said that brazen red hair should have been a clue to your true nature. Poor man, he should have run like hell at the mention of your name.”

That wasn’t Weston! Turning with alarm, she only caught a glimpse of Avery Hill before a sudden fierce pain struck her head and she saw blackness.

Chapter Thirteen

Awakened by the throbbing pain in her skull, Mina raised her hand to rub her temple. Her eyes flew open in confusion as both hands came up at once. She stared at the rope binding her wrists together, her foggy mind trying to comprehend the circumstance, but she found it too difficult to think lucidly.

“Aw, does the whore have a headache?”

Wincing, her eyes clamped shut tight as the loud grating voice in her ear sent waves of renewed pain through her head.

“Tsk, tsk, isn’t that too bad.”

Mina knew without looking that it was Avery and he sounded anything but sympathetic.

“I must have hit you too hard. You were out longer than I planned. I had to haul you about, which wasn’t an easy task. You’re heavier than you look.”

His footsteps moved behind her and she heard a strange noise. Opening her eyes, she watched as her hands were pulled upward by a second rope tied around the bonds at her wrists. She followed it up to where it looped over a stout tree branch. As she watched, the noise continued, the rope scraping against the tree bark as it shortened, pulling her hands along with it. The branch shook with each tug, not stopping until she was upright, her arms strained over her head, the tips of her toes barely touching the ground. Already she felt the strain in her shoulders.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, hating the fear that made her voice quiver.

“Because you deserve to be punished. And not with a pitiful little spanking.”

She gasped, twisting her head to look at him.

He laughed scornfully. “Yes, I saw the trail master swatting your bare ass by the creek. If it was me, I’d have used the belt, or cut a stout switch.”

“You followed us and watched?”

He shrugged. “I was bored. Two thousand miles on a dusty, dreary wagon train will do that. Besides, I was biding my time until I could put my plan into action.”

“It’s been you who’s been playing those tricks on me all along. You untied the oxen, and took Weston’s tools, and released the wagon brake.”

“Don’t forget the missing coffeepot and brooch. The old piece should bring me a few dollars in trade, don’t you think?”

She saw his taunt for what it was and ignored it. “So you did all this because you were bored?”

“Yes, except for the wagon brake. There must have been someone else who despises you and wants you dead.”

“Dead!” Mina echoed back, aghast.

“I really hoped your husband would get tired of your ineptitude long before now and left you at one of the forts. Considering I’ve heard you two rutting beneath your wagon every night, it seems he found something you were good at and decided to keep you after all.” His face changed abruptly, going from a cool mien of self-satisfaction to the crimson red heat of anger. It was like he was two different people. “It really is shameful!” he spat. “Carrying on like a harlot in full hearing of the others, including the children. You deserved castigation, even if it was by your husband’s equally culpable hand.”

“Why do you care what I do with my husband?”

“Because you owed Elliott respect,” he hissed, spittle flying from his mouth, making her flinch. “Not a week went by before you were cavorting with someone else. You didn’t mourn his death as he deserved and in life caused him nothing but misery. He told me so.”

“Don’t you think you’re taking friendship a bit too far?”

“No, bitch, don’t you see? He may have married you, but it was me he yearned for.”

As his meaning took hold, Mina inhaled sharply, choking as shock swept through her. “You mean—”

“Yes, you idiot,” he supplied. “Elliott and I were lovers.” She now recognized the look in his eyes that had been hard to pinpoint in their prior encounters. It was envy, pure and simple, with a good dose of hatred laced in. “Why do you think he left you untouched after you wed? He loved me, not you, a harpy, a shrew, a whore. You were simply a means to an end, a bankroll for the new life we had planned together. Now he’s gone and I’m stuck on this hellish wagon train alone. Why should you find pleasure in your lover’s arms while mine are empty?”

It all made sense, Elliott’s unqualified contempt from the beginning, Avery’s unexplained hatred, she understood now except for one missing fact. “Wait, you said you were going to build a life together? He was married to me. What were you planning to do about that?”

His face took on a wickedly evil light and she didn’t have to wonder any more. “You planned to kill me!” she accused.

“A brilliant deduction. You’re not as stupid as Elliott believed. Once we reached our destination, after he claimed the acreage, you were to meet with an untimely death, by accident, of course.”

She huffed a humorless laugh. “It seems his death put a kink in your plans. You’re left with nothing now.” Maybe it was a foolish decision to taunt him while he held all the power, and a gun, but she saw no way out of her predicament and couldn’t resist the opportunity to pierce his confidence.

“Shut up,” he squawked. “I’m tired of your mouth and that voice of yours; mercy, it makes me cringe.” He was one to talk; his nasally backwater high-pitched accent became more pronounced when he was angry. She would have said so, knowing she had nothing to lose, but he stuffed a wad of linen in her mouth. “There,” he said with renewed satisfaction, having effectively reduced her protests to muffled, unintelligible mumbles. He then reached in his vest pocket and pulled out a tri-folded sheet of paper. “See this?” He held it up in front of her face so she had little choice except to see. “This is my contingency plan.”

She could make out the top line in bold print, Last Will and Testament.

“Wuh id ou et at?” Her question was incomprehensible behind the gag.

He ignored her.

“I drew this up when Elliott became ill. He was very much in favor of my new plan. My Elliott always wanted to make sure I was taken care of.” Avery blinked rapidly as though battling tears. “He was so good and considerate.”

Pulling at her ropes, she shook her head wildly, protesting for all she was worth with a mouthful of cotton.

Still, he paid her no mind as he started to read.

“‘I, Elliott Hobart, being of sound mind,’ and so forth and so, ‘do hereby leave all my worldly goods,’ blah, blah, blah,” he mumbled as he scanned down the paper. “Ah, here’s the good part, ‘to my cousin and lifelong friend, Avery Hill.’”

Her eyes narrowed. Avery was dark where Elliott was fair; if they were cousins, she was the queen of England.

He seemed to read her mind. “A bit of a stretch, I know; still, I thought it a nice touch. A familial inheritance is more commonplace and raises fewer questions. And, who’s going to challenge it, anyway? You? Certainly not. You’ll be dead.” He chuckled, clearly finding that funny before he went on reading. “‘This includes any lands and properties in my holdings, namely eight hundred acres of farmland twenty-five miles southwest of Oregon City.’” He looked up in triumph. “You lose, whore. And, now that we’re close to our destination, the hour of your untimely demise is upon us.”

Avery stared at her a moment. “It’s not as much fun if you can’t speak.” Surprising Mina, he reached up and pulled out the gag.

“You coerced a signature out of a dying man!”

“There was no coercion, believe me. Elliott detested you and didn’t begrudge me one red cent, especially if it meant you would have it.”

“You won’t get away with this. I told Weston of your behavior that day by our wagon. When he realizes you were nowhere around when I went missing, he’ll put it together.”

“Nonsense. I’ll simply say I was out searching like everyone else. Besides, who’s to say you didn’t just run off after a squabble as you have so many times in the past.”

“We’ve got hundreds of miles yet to go! Why are you doing this now?”

“Fort Boise was the last army post on the trail and the last real chance for your husband to wise up and leave you behind. Although after all that rutting, I knew long ago that he wasn’t going to actually put you off. I had hope though. Bloodshed is so messy.” A high-pitched cackling rushed out of him as if he’d said the most amusing thing ever.

“You’re mad,” Mina accused.

He raised his gun, aiming point-blank at her chest. The odd light in his eyes told her it was mostly likely true. “You’re probably wondering why I took the time to explain. Why I didn’t simply shoot you while you were passed out and throw you over an embankment.”

She hadn’t wondered. It was obvious he was toying with her.

“It’s because I wanted to see your face when you found out you’d been used. Papa didn’t want you, poor dear, and then neither did your husband. Poor, poor Aramina Franks.” He mocked her with a singsong voice and a pretend pout. “Did you know I used to watch you come into your father’s store? I was a lowly clerk, stocking shelves, sweeping floors. You and your sisters would prance in, dressed to the nines as if you were better than everyone else. You had everything while I had nothing. Then I met Elliott. He had something, not as much as Burton Franks, but he was more than making do. Then he lost everything in the fire.” He was staring off to the side, as if lost in memory. “We decided to go somewhere far away and start over. Though how? Then, Vanessa made her generous offer. She was looking for any way to get you out of the house. Elliott was from a good family and it wasn’t widely known yet how much the family had lost, so he jumped at the offer. We had so much hope.” He turned tear-filled eyes toward her. “I lost my dear Elliott. All I have left are memories and they don’t keep you warm, fed, or sheltered at night. Though, I figured it would be nice to add one more pleasant memory to sustain me. The moment of your death and the knowledge that your last thought was how I’ll go on happily living on the land that your money bought.”

Mina was stunned, simply amazed at the many twists and turns of fate that had brought her to this point. She’d never noticed Elliott at her father’s store. The prancing was far from true; she’d had nothing to prance about after her mother died. As for the fancy clothes, she couldn’t deny that. It was all for show, however. In private, papa was cold, but he wanted to show the world a different picture. Through Avery’s eyes she led a pampered life compared to his meager existence. His animosity had begun there, building when his lover took her for a wife. All the bends in the road that had led them here, to this moment, were nothing short of ironic.

He stuffed the gag back into her mouth. The hammer of his pistol clicked, echoing through the clearing as he pulled it back. She hoped his aim was true; it would be quicker and limit her suffering. Prepared for a painful death, she closed her eyes, praying fervently it was instantaneous.

“Yes,” he chortled manically, “that’s the face of fear and defeat I had hoped to see.”

She shuddered at his cruelty as she waited, imagining if he missed her heart, a slow death from a chest wound would be pure torment, and if he left her tied to this tree… No, she couldn’t bear to think about what the animals would do to her body, or the pain she would suffer if she were still alive when they did it.