Brides of the West Page 15

  "Evangeline," he called into the darkness. "Where are you?"

  "I'm here.” She rose unsteadily to her feet. Her heart pounded so hard with excitement she thought it would burst. He was alive!

  Wolf was alive!

  "You must lie down." Quickly, she groped for matches in the darkness, then lit the wick on the bedside lantern. Tears of joy and relief blinded her as the room filled with light and she saw his face. She swiped at her tear filled eyes. "Don't try and get up, sweetheart. You've lost so much blood."

  With her help, he lay back down slowly.

  The moment his eyes met hers in the soft amber glow of lamplight, she crumbled. She couldn't help it. She’d not allowed herself to mourn for him, wanting to be strong in front of Mac, but once tears began flowing, she couldn't stop.

  Slowly, he extended one hand to her. "Come and lie with me," he said quietly.

  "I don't w-want to...h-hurt you," she sobbed.

  "It would hurt me more if I could not hold you in my arms."

  Gently, she took his hand and eased down beside him, trying not to bump his bandaged leg and side.

  "Why are you crying? Don't you know the time for tears has ended?"

  She didn't truly know why she was carrying on, except that she was overwhelmed with a floodtide of emotions. So much had happened in such a short time. The dark, ugly secret from her past had finally been set free. Garrick was dead and Wolf was alive. She sniffed hard and tried to compose herself, failing. Another round of sobs shook her. He drew her closer, letting her have a good, long cry.

  “I’ve said things in anger that I deeply regret now,” he said once she’d ceased crying. “Can you forgive me for all I’ve put you through?"

  She was the one who should ask for forgiveness. She snuggled closer. Rising slightly, she kissed his stubbly cheek, knowing she would never take this man or her love for him for granted again. Somehow, she’d make up all the lost years to him. "I am the one who should be asking forgiveness," she whispered.

  He sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling. "I know you've told me the truth about how your father forced you to leave Texas, about his threat to kill me and our child...how he sold you into marriage with Garrick Payne. But, I must confess what terrible thing I’ve done. When I found your advertisement in the mail order bride catalog, I wanted revenge for what your father and his ranch hands did to me. That night, just before your father put the knife to my throat, he told me something I have never forgotten. He said I wasn’t good enough for you, that I needed to go find me a squaw if I wanted a woman. But when I laid eyes on you that day in Luling for the first time in years my heart melted. I realized I was still in love with you, that I’d never stopped. I was wrong to want revenge. Can you forgive my deception?”

  Evangeline shut her eyes. "Oh, Wolf, the past is behind us now. Let’s not dwell on it any longer.”

  “How is our son? Did Garrick hurt him?”

  She caressed his cheek and jaw with her fingertips. “Garrick gave him a sleeping tonic, but other than that he appears well. I don’t believe he harmed him.”

  “I still cannot believe the man faked his own death, changed his identity and stalked you all the way to Texas. After getting me out of the way, he intended to have you again—to take possession of my ranch.”

  “Garrick was always a greedy man. He thought of no one but himself, and didn’t feel he must be accountable for his illicit deeds.”

  ***

  Wolf shut his eyes. “Thank God he didn’t harm Mac. The boy has lived through enough.” His hand lifted to her cheek. “The bastard bruised your face, didn’t he?”

  She covered his hand with hers. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. The past is over.”

  He nodded. “Very well. Perhaps I should tell you of my dream—a more pleasant topic.”

  “Yes.”

  “Next summer a daughter will be born to us, Evangeline. I saw her—a beautiful little girl with straight dark hair like mine and blue eyes like yours.”

  “You had this dream while you were fevered?”

  “Yes, but it is the truth. Her name will be Lily. I need to add a room to our cabin and build a cradle.”

  She sat up and mopped his brow with a damp cloth. Secretly the idea of having a daughter thrilled her, but it was too soon to think about. “Perhaps next summer will bring us a child, but you should rest now. There is plenty of time for talk about the future. Mac is safe and you’re alive. We have so much to be thankful for. The past is truly behind us once and for all.”

  “Not quite. There’s more business we must settle.”

  Evangeline eyed him curiously. What else could there be? She sucked in a breath, waited for him to answer.

  “Evangeline…” He reached for her hand and cupped it gently in his. “We’ve been married two weeks. Last night I nearly died. Do you know that I haven’t said ‘I love you’ yet?”

  Her breath caught. No, she hadn’t realized until now, but it dawned on her that she’d not said the words either. His words hit her hard. Last night I almost died.

  “I love you.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve always loved you, even when we were apart all those years. I hope you know how much.”

  Laughter bubbled up as tears threatened. Yes, she knew. Deep in her heart and soul she’d always known. She leaned over and brushed a soft kiss to his lips. He moaned deep in his throat and his hand lifted, his fingers twining through her hair. Pins fell upon the blanket and he shook her hair free, drew it over one shoulder.

  “Let me say it again.” A smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “I love you, Evangeline MacKinnon, forever and always.”

  She choked back a sob. “And I love you, too, Gray Wolf MacKinnon. Forever and always.”

  The Chances Are Bride

  Billie Warren Chai

  Shiloh Springs, Texas

  1872

  Sheriff Josh Morrow heard his office door burst open, then slam shut, rattling the windows.

  “She’s here!” Deputy Roger Miller rushed down the hall toward the cells. “The mail order bride’s here.”

  The sheriff stepped out of a small back room. “I heard you the first time.” Hell, half the county probably heard him.

  “Ya tole me to come git ya.” Roger dogged his steps. “What ya goin’ do, Sheriff?”

  “Go meet her.” Josh picked up his hat and exited the office. A moment later he heard the door slam and Roger fell into step beside him. “Run over to Reverend Huddleston and tell him and the missus to come to my office right away.”

  A tiny woman dressed in a blue traveling suit sat on a bench outside the depot. A ridiculous hat with a veil and green feather sat atop blonde curls. What had Barry Woods been thinking? She couldn’t have been more than twenty, and how old was Woods? He had to have been at least forty.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” He removed his hat. “I’m Sheriff Josh Morrow, are you Miss Yeager?”

  “Yes, I am.” She looked up at him.

  Damn, she was so young, so petite...and so pretty. This wasn’t going to be easy. He wished the stage was still there so he could put her back on it. It wasn’t, and he couldn’t.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Woods is unavailable.” He fudged. “Why don’t you come to my office?” She didn’t move. “You can wait inside, out of the sun.”

  “Will Mr. Woods know where to find me?” The veil hid her eyes, but not the uncertainty in her voice.

  “Yes, ma’am.” If he were in condition to find her. Which he wasn’t.

  “What about my bag?” She chewed a finger, despite her gloves.

  “Roger’ll watch your bag.”

  “All right.” She stood and slid a small hand through the crook of his elbow.

  She barely came to his shoulder. If Barry Woods wasn’t dead already, Josh would’ve seriously considered killing him for bringing a sweet, innocent thing like her to an untamed frontier town like Shiloh Springs. He led her into his office and offered her a chair.

  “Would you like
some coffee or maybe some water, ma’am?”

  “Water,” she answered with a soft southern accent.

  He picked up a coffee-stained cup and wiped it with his sleeve before filling it from a pitcher. He handed it to her.

  “Thank you.”

  The front door opened and Reverend Huddleston and his wife entered. “Sheriff,” Huddleston greeted him as his wife scrutinized Miss Yeager. The minister’s wife found fault with any woman she met, especially if the woman was younger or prettier than she, which meant any woman under the age of forty or better looking than a horse. She clearly regarded herself the epitome of proper etiquette and Christian behavior and didn’t mind expressing her opinion whenever she felt the need.

  “Reverend, Mrs. Huddleston. This is Miss Yeager. She’s a friend of Mr. Woods.”

  The young woman stood, extending her hand first to the minister.

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Yeager,” the minister said, barely touching her hand.

  “Same here, sir,” she replied.

  Mrs. Huddleston stuck out her hand, reluctantly Josh thought, and then hastily retracted it after only slightly grazing the younger woman’s hand. Damn, he hated this part of the job. But he was the sheriff and frequently it was his duty to do unpleasant things.

  “Miss Yeager.” He moved to face her. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but...” Her face paled. “Mr. Woods died unexpectedly three days ago.” The cup clattered to the floor. “We buried him yesterday. No one was certain when you’d get here.”

  She started to crumple. He caught her, holding her limp body against his. The ensuing stirring of his body was unexpected. “Damn Barry Woods,” he mumbled.

  “Now, now, Sheriff. You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” Mrs. Huddleston tsked.

  It galled him she never had a good thing to say about Woods when he was alive, or anyone else for that matter, but now that he was dead... A lot of good it did to have them present to help break the news. His horse would’ve been more help, if not more comfort. Ignoring them, he carried her to an empty cell and laid her on the bunk. Grabbing a towel, he wet it.

  The front door opened and closed as the Huddlestons left. Good riddance, he thought.

  He removed her hat and veil, then patted her pale skin with the towel. “Miss Yeager?” She remained unresponsive. Woods may have been a fool, but Josh had to admit he’d picked a pretty little thing.

  Her lids fluttered, then opened—deep blue eyes mesmerized him. At that moment it seemed his heart forgot how to beat and his lungs hung in suspension as he fought for air.

  ***

  It took extreme effort for Annabelle to open her eyes. Her gaze locked on the sheriff, kneeling in front of her. Was that concern she detected in his dark brown eyes? Then she remembered. She’d traveled to Shiloh Springs to marry Barry Woods, a man she’d never met. The sheriff said Mr. Woods was dead. The room reeled when she jumped up.

  “Take it easy, ma’am. You’ve had quite a shock.”

  Shock. Yes. Barry Woods’ death was a shock, but while she regretted his death, how could she mourn him? Truth be told, she had no feelings one way or the other, although she was certain that in time they would have grown to love each other.

  What was she going to do now? She had no money to return home. Besides, she had disgraced her family by running away to get married, so she couldn’t go back to Georgia. Panic raced through her. A feeling of utter hopelessness began to sink in and she stifled the tears. Lord, she needed time to think.

  “Here, drink this.” The sheriff handed her a cup. “It’ll calm your nerves.”

  She smelled the fiery fragrance of whiskey. She’d had spirits on occasion—during her monthlies when the cramps got unbearable. This pain wasn’t physical, but with nowhere to turn, it was no less real.

  She cradled the cup in both hands. “Thank you.” The fiery liquid burned as it traveled to her stomach, landing with a thud. Warmth spread throughout her body within minutes.

  “If you feel strong enough, we can go back out front. I think you’ll be more comfortable there.”

  She nodded and stood, feeling his gaze upon her. He extended his hand to steady her, and she accepted it, realizing this is how a new colt must feel. He led the way out of the cell and she followed.

  His height amazed her—at least six inches taller than her brothers and they weren’t short. If she didn’t look up, all she saw was his broad back covered by a cotton shirt. True, he was handsome, with brown eyes hiding under long lashes, and a strong comforting smile, but it was his gentle manner that made her feel she could trust him.

  After seating herself in front of his desk, she waited until he walked around and sat in his chair. “Sheriff Morrow, how did Mr. Woods die?”

  He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “I won’t lie to you. Someone gunned him down. Shot him in the chest five times. Whoever it was made damn sure he was dead.”

  She gasped. People didn’t kill each other for no reason back in Georgia, at least not since the war was over.

  “Miss Yeager, what did Mr. Woods tell you about himself?”

  “We corresponded by letter after A Bride for All mail order catalog matched us up. He wrote he was thirty years old and had never been married. Stated he’d fought for the Confederacy and his family had lost everything in the war. Said they were all dead. He also mentioned he owned a restaurant and a hotel and could provide a good life for me.”

  ***

  Josh clenched his fists. That scoundrel Woods had outright lied to her. Now he was dead and it fell to Josh to tell her the truth.

  “Miss Yeager, I’m afraid Woods wasn’t exactly honest with you. He didn’t own a restaurant or a hotel. He owned the Chances Are Saloon and Social Club.”

  Her eyes fluttered, but she stayed upright. Her small bow lips formed an ‘o’. A sudden urge to touch and hold her shot through him as he felt himself being pulled into her web. Did she know what she was doing to him?

  Ever since his fiancée had been raped and murdered when he’d been away fighting for the South, he’d felt overwhelming guilt. His curse in life seemed to be his failure to protect the women dear to him, including his mother and his sister who had died at the end of the war, adding salt to the wound in his heart. Over time, guilt and pain had taken its toll and he’d vowed never to let another woman near his heart. He’d kept that promise, and while some stirred his body, none had stirred his soul.

  Until now.

  “The eastbound stage won’t be here for another five days. I assume you’ll want to be on it.” It wasn’t his business what she did, but damn someone needed to protect her. “Fanny Appling owns the boardinghouse. Let’s get you something to eat, and then I’ll go talk to her.”

  She nodded and accepted his arm. Outside they walked a short distance to Gloria’s Cafe. People stopped and stared at the mail order bride. He couldn’t help but wonder what she thought about it all.

  ***

  Annabelle knew she was the object of curiosity. Everyone wanted to see the fool who’d traveled halfway across the country to marry a man she’d never met. It all seemed like a bad dream, one she couldn’t awaken from. Barry Woods owned a saloon. She had no idea what a social club was, but, from the look on the sheriff’s face when he’d told her, it couldn’t be good.

  The sheriff left the diner to see Mrs. Appling about a room for her. Confused, she had no idea what to think or do. One thing was certain—she didn’t have enough money for a ticket back to Georgia. Besides, there was nothing left for her there. As her ma would’ve said, she’d burned her bridges and made a fool of herself in the process. This was a chance for a new life and somehow she was determined to make it work. She wouldn’t be an unpaid housekeeper to her pa and brothers again.

  First things first–she was hungry. She ordered a small meal of steak, mashed potatoes and coffee. Sheriff Morrow returned just as she finished eating and took a seat opposite her.

  A man brought him coffee. “Thanks, Ben. This is Miss
Yeager. She’ll be with us until the stagecoach comes through next week. Do you have any pie?”

  Sheriff Morrow turned to her. “Ben and his daughter Gloria are the owners.”

  She nodded her head toward Ben.

  “Mrs. Appling has a room you can rent. Roger’ll take your bag over.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you.” She faltered, not knowing what else to say.

  Ben brought him a piece of apple pie. She was surprised to see a frontier lawman put the napkin in his lap and use the fork, not the spoon.

  “It isn’t necessary. Mrs. Appling’s a fine Christian lady. You’ll get a clean room, breakfast and supper. She doesn’t like noise though.”

  “I hope she doesn’t charge too much. I don’t have much money.” Might as well tell the truth up front.

  “It’s taken care of.” He ate another bite of pie. “I owed Woods some money on a horse, so I just paid it to Mrs. Appling.”

  Did he think she needed charity? “I can pay my own expenses, Sheriff Morrow. I won’t accept your charity.” Her words surprised her. Past experience had taught her it was useless to argue with a man, especially one as large as the sheriff.

  “It’s not charity. I owed Woods and Woods owes you for what he’s done to you,” he growled. “I know you were all set to marry the man, but, lady, you should thank your lucky stars someone filled him full of lead. Saved you a bunch of heartache.”

  He pushed aside what was left of the pie and stalked toward the man at the counter and threw money down. “This should cover my pie and coffee and the lady’s meal. Will you see she gets to Mrs. Appling’s when she’s ready?”

  “I’ll take care of her, Sheriff.”

  Stunned, her thoughts and emotions were a jumble. Finally she rose, and placed money on the counter, but Ben politely refused. After another insistence or two, she gave up.