by Joyce Armor
She didn’t miss a sudden look of panic in her adversary’s eyes, as if her returning memory might ruin everything. More likely it would send Bodie screaming into the hills. As Aurelia stared at her, she felt like a butterfly being pinned to a board.
“How much?”
“I’m sorry. What?” How much money did she have? How much did she love Bodie? How much did she weigh?
“How much money do you want to go away and never return?”
Abby was speechless for a moment and then felt that feeling of outrage that was so common when she was around Aurelia. This woman’s currency was money, wealth, status. And then somehow her anger faded and she felt inexplicably sad. With tears in her eyes, she rose and headed toward the door. Just before she entered the house, she turned back to Aurelia. “I will pray for you,” she said solemnly, meaning it. Well, there’s another thing you found out about yourself. You’re a believer.
A few minutes later Abby, with a pounding headache, laid down, pulling the soft blanket folded at the foot of her bed over her. Images now were coming at her like little explosions in her head, and she had to concentrate on relaxing to ease the pain. Finally, she drifted off to sleep, although it wasn’t a very restful nap.
About 30 minutes later, Mrs. Glines was passing the dragon lady’s bedroom on her way to deliver fresh linens to Bodie’s room when she heard voices. The housekeeper was not typically an eavesdropper, but dire circumstances required extreme measures. Stopping outside the closed door, she leaned in, pleased that she could hear the voices clearly.
“Bodie said he would return between 11 and 11:30 to work on the books in his study before the midday meal,” Aurelia said.
“I have already kissed him,” came the response from Little Miss Ruffles. “I know he liked it, but he’s still engaged to her.
She sounded like a petulant child. Mrs. Glines clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from chuckling out loud. Abby was worth 10 of the Nebraska debutante. And Bodie’s conniving mother, too.
“Well, you’re going to kiss him again, in his study. And Mrs. Glines and I will walk in on you. You’ll be compromised. He’ll have to marry you.”
“You’re so clever, Mother Farnham.”
Mother Farnham? Mrs. Glines was going to be sick. She hurried down the hallway before they caught her listening. Without knocking, she slipped into Abby’s room, closing the door behind her.
“How could that woman have raised such a wonderful son?” Abby asked, shaking her head, after Mrs. Glines had woken her and told of the plot the scheming woman had devised.
Just a short nap had done wonders for the younger woman. She felt refreshed and ready to take on the Nebraska demons. Mrs. Glines had laughed at that description, and quickly the two women devised a plan to foil the plot. Would Bodie actually let himself be railroaded into making a real proposal? He was so honorable, she realized, he just might.
Bodie’s study was a large, darkly paneled room. A warm cherry desk with a sturdy chair faced a gray stone fireplace with a painting of a mountain landscape over the mantel. Two dark green wing chairs faced the desk but were often turned toward the fireplace, depending on who was in the study.
At this time of year, Mrs. Glines was counting on Bodie concentrating so much on his books that he wouldn’t notice one of the wing chairs off to the side, facing a window overlooking a grove of fruit trees, pear and plum. She had found the ranch owner in such a position more than once. Besides, he was a man. The species could be so oblivious to decor.
* * *
Bodie washed his hands and splashed water on his face, as was his habit, before drying off and heading toward his study. He also removed his boots, which had gotten muddy rescuing a calf, and left them in the mudroom. He had neglected the books since a certain beautiful, charming woman had seemingly dropped from the sky but had to bring them up to date today. The ranch was doing extremely well, barring some weather or other catastrophe, and he normally was vigilant about crunching the numbers. It was his livelihood and his passion, and nothing would keep him from doing his duty.
His intense concentration, which was the only way he could stop thinking about Abby, led him directly to his desk and the books. He had been poring over them for 10 or 15 minutes, making entries from a pile of paid bills and Army checks and adding and subtracting figures, when the study door opened. He was annoyed. Even Mrs. Glines did not enter the room without knocking, and she rarely interrupted him in his study. He didn’t look up for a good 30 seconds, although he knew who it was. The telltale rustling noise, which was beginning to grate on his nerves, gave her away.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Bodie” she purred in what she must have thought was a sultry voice. It sounded to him like a 12-year-old trying to play grown-up.
* * *
In the kitchen, Mrs. Glines was wiping down the counter when Aurelia Farnham marched in. She was a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it, but Mrs. Glines and Abby together would prevail. It was all the housekeeper could do to keep from laughing. She felt like a gladiator.
“Oh, Mrs. Glines. Would you direct me to Bodie’s study, please? I need to speak to him right away.”
“He doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s in his study.” She continued wiping down the counter, enjoying herself immensely.
“This is important. I must insist.”
The housekeeper stopped wiping and stood up straight. “All right. You just head through the dining room back out to the foyer, and take a right past the stairs. It’s the first door on the right. Don’t forget to knock.”
This would not do at all for Bodie’s rattled mother, of course, and Mrs. Glines could see the consternation in Aurelia’s face. She had to find a way to keep Abby in Bodie’s life. This was just too much fun, and it was never fun when Aurelia Farnham was visiting.
Aurelia grasped Mrs. Glines’ hand and started dragging her out of the kitchen. “I just know I’ll get lost. You have to show me.”
The housekeeper thought about resisting, dragging it out, and decided against it. Timing was important in this little drama. She withdrew her hand from Aurelia’s surprisingly strong grip and walked ahead of her. “All right. Follow me.”
* * *
Bodie sighed, unable to keep the impatience out of his voice. “What is it?”
“It’s about when you kissed me,” Caroline said.
Bodie dropped his pencil. “I didn’t kiss you. You kissed me, and I found it rather repugnant.”
She looked confused.
“I didn’t like it,” he explained.
Now she walked around the desk. “I can do better.”
Had this woman no self-respect?
Without another word, she lunged forward, latching onto his shoulders as she tried to plant a kiss on his horrified lips, but he turned his head and her lips hit his ear, which felt just about as creepy as could be. Just then the door opened and Aurelia and Mrs. Glines walked in.
“What’s going on here?” Aurelia demanded with all the outrage she could manage.
A voice in the corner said, “Caroline is showing us how one makes an ass of oneself.” A moment of stunned silence followed. Then Bodie and Mrs. Glines both laughed as Abby walked up from the window and Caroline’s face turned tomato red.
Although his allies in this farce could have let Bodie in on the plot, he did not mind, considering the outcome. Even he realized his genuine reactions made the scenario play out so much better. Aurelia harrumphed and stomped out of the room, as only she could do in her ballroom slippers. Caroline looked from Bodie to Abby to Mrs. Glines, then screamed briefly and fled the study. The three remaining people looked at one another and burst out laughing again.
The midday meal a while later was enjoyable, especially since Aurelia and her little protégé requested trays in their rooms. Perhaps they had given up. One could only hope.
Finally, Bodie set his napkin down and rose. “I have a drainage ditch to dig and some cattle to track down. Thank you, Mrs
. Glines, for another wonderful meal. And thank you, sweetheart,” he said to Abby making her blush, “for saving me from a fate worse than death.”
“It’s Mrs. Glines who heard them plotting.”
“Well, the two of you are treasures.” He smiled and walked off. He was almost in the hallway when he turned. “But for the record, I would not marry that woman under any circumstances.” And then he was gone.
The older woman noticed the look of longing in Abby’s eyes. Yes, she was falling. Abby could have told her she had already fallen.
* * *
An hour later, Bodie was out on the range and Jess had driven Mrs. Glines into Medicine Bow. She had invited Abby to join her on her shopping trip, but Abby had declined. She had a headache and decided to take it easy. She was in her bedroom and had just finished rebraiding her hair when she dropped her ivory hairpin, which had somehow survived her fall from the train, and leaned over to pick it up. In a flash she was back in the Pullman car. She saw a clear picture of her brother, Carter, and her father, Rexwell Dunne, and just like that, all her memories came flooding back. Her father was dying, and they were traveling across the country by train for his last hurrah. And Carter tried to kill her.
Her father! Where was he? Was he still alive? She had to get to town and send a telegram. She would never forgive herself if she missed his final hours on this earth. She couldn’t wait a day or even an hour. She ran downstairs to Bodie’s study, ignoring the ache in her side, found a sheet of paper and a pencil and quickly scribbled a note to him. She knew he would be angry that she left the ranch without protection, but she had to find her father before it was too late. She would cajole a ranch hand into coming with her if any of them were around, but she hadn’t seen or heard anyone for over an hour.
She folded the note, wrote Bodie’s name on the front and placed it next to the pitcher in the mudroom, where he was sure to see it. She was about to head out the door to the stable when she realized she was wearing a simple, fitted green day dress that she would have to hike up to her waist to ride a horse. She was sure Bodie did not have a side saddle, and she could ride astride anyway.
She ran upstairs and headed straight for Bodie’s room, searching through his bureau drawers until she found a pair of denim pants and a red plaid shirt. In the armoire, she located a woven belt that she would be able to tighten as much as she needed. Moments later, with the pants cuffs rolled up and the shirt tied at her waist, she made one last stop in the kitchen to grab a streak knife, which she placed in a pants pocket, hoping it wouldn’t cut the material and stab her. Then she hurried toward the stable and was relieved to see it was empty, except for a few horses. If she did run into trouble, she did not want any of Bodie’s hands to be hurt on her account. She looked the horses over quickly and chose a roan mare that looked young and sturdy. She led the horse out of the stall, quickly bridled and saddled it and mounted. After walking the horse out of the barn, she transitioned to a trot and then a canter as she headed toward town.
She felt a definite twinge in her side, and the stitches in her knee were pulling, though she did her best to ignore the sensations. In truth, it felt wonderful riding again, the wind in her hair. She remembered now she had ridden since she was three or four, and she owned her own horse, a bay Morgan named Joey. Joey was comfortable in a stable on Long Island, but wouldn’t he love Wyoming Territory with its wide-open spaces? She could just picture them galloping over the hills of Two Forks Ranch.
Abby was about halfway to town when she spotted a carriage in the distance. It was far enough away that at first she thought it was headed toward town. Then she realized, with a sickening feeling in her stomach, that it was headed toward her. She pulled on the reins and halted the roan while she decided what to do.
* * *
Bodie’s success on the ranch could be attributed to several reasons. His leadership skills, drive, intelligence and love for his piece of Wyoming Territory all factored in, yet it was most likely his intuition that served him best. He had an uncanny ability to sniff out trouble, ranging from where a cow might be bogged down to forestalling colic in a horse that was back at the barn when he was out in the north pasture. Right now his intuition was telling him that Abby needed him. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. It made him uncomfortable all over. He called Dex over and gave him instructions for the men and headed toward the ranch house at a gallop.
Had the man who frightened Abby returned? Jess should be around, watching after the ranch house. Then he remembered it was Tuesday. It was shopping day for Mrs. Glines, and Jess always accompanied her to do the heavy lifting. Maybe Abby went with them. And maybe he was worrying for nothing, but he didn’t think so. He slowed as he approached the ranch and reined in at the hitching post near the veranda, just tossing the reins over the post. He knew Laredo wouldn’t wander.
Hurrying up the steps, Bodie threw open the front door and called out to Abby. No answer. He ran up the stairs double-time and looked into her room. It was empty. Next he checked his study, the dining room and kitchen. Finally he reached the mudroom, and there he found her note. He snatched it up, read it and cursed. Fool woman! Now he knew why he had such misgivings. He sprinted through the house, out the door and jumped onto his stallion, who was only too happy to take off again. Bodie promised himself he’d see the horse got an extra ration of oats today. He was a true champion. It never occurred to him that he was a champion as well.
Abby did not mention in her note what time she left, so Bodie had no idea how long she had been gone or how far she had traveled. He doubted she was galloping, however, so perhaps he could catch her before anything bad happened. She had become such an integral part of his life; he couldn’t bear it if something happened to her. He had thought, after his bad experience with Melinda Cotton and other women, that the ranch was all he needed, until Abby came along. He’d think about what that meant later. Right now he had a woman to catch and keep safe and all his senses must focus on those goals.
* * *
Abby—oh, she now knew her name was Jenna, yet somehow Abby seemed to fit a little better—debated on whether or not to turn back, head off the trail into the hills, stand her ground or approach the nearing carriage. Although she could not tell if it was Carter, she had a sinking feeling it was. After a brief inner struggle, while she unconsciously clutched the handle of the knife in her pocket, she decided to take the bull by the horns and ride toward the approaching carriage. She was done being cowed by her brother, especially now that she was armed, and she would not let him get closer to the ranch, where someone might get hurt.
She could not outrun a bullet, but he always had to have the last word. She was relatively certain he would not just fire away when he came within range. Abby chuckled mirthlessly. She was betting her life on it. She had to draw him close enough to throw the knife if it became necessary. No expert at knife throwing, she did had a history of playing mumblety-peg with Mose at the Long Island stables and thought she might do all right.
A minute or two later, she could see that it was, indeed, Carter approaching. He looked different, though. The closer he got, she could see dark circles under his eyes, and he looked kind of disheveled. She had never seen Carter looking disheveled, although she supposed he probably came in from his drinking and gambling forays in a messy state. They had rarely kept the same hours, so she had missed that dubious experience. Seeing him this way, more than anything, was disconcerting. He looked almost mad. When they got within about 10 feet of each other, they both reined in their horses. He got out of the carriage, took a couple of steps toward her and stopped.
Abby spoke first. “How’s Father? Is he still…is he…?
Carter chuckled. “Last time I saw him he was unconscious from the laudanum I put in his coffee.”
She gasped. “Carter. You didn’t.”
“I couldn’t let him find you first before I got rid of you. Again.”
He was so matter-of-fact, so soulless, she should be terrifie
d, and she was frightened, but more than that, she was angry. He had everything; why did he need more? “Why?” she asked, and she didn’t even know what she was asking. Why did he drug their father? Why was he so twisted? Why did he hate his sister so much? “What happened to you?”
“I’ve been living in this wilderness, waiting to get you alone. I hid the carriage in a little grove and have been watching the road. It’s hot out here and dusty. God, I hate this land. I saw that cowboy and the housekeeper take a wagon to town and figured it was my opportunity to get to you. I didn’t realize you’d make it easier by coming to me, little sister.” He said the latter two words almost like a curse.
And as he said them, he pulled a pistol from inside his vest and pointed it at her. In the split second before she threw the knife, she noticed his hand was steady. She doubted he would miss. That was when all hell broke loose. As the knife left her hand, she heard a rifle shot but no pistol shot and the beat of hooves coming up behind her. At the same time, her horse reared and she fell off, hitting the ground with a painful thud.
She looked back at Carter falling, blood spreading across his chest. At that point she heard a scuffling behind her as Bodie jumped off his horse, and then she was in his arms. “Are you hurt? Did he shoot you?”
He was feeling her arms and her legs, which she did not find for a moment unseemly. It was hard to concentrate under the circumstances. She had to think about it for a moment, looking down at her body. “No…I…I can’t believe I lost my seat. That never happens to me.”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed. He was so relieved.
