“In your dreams.” Janelle barely had the words out when she felt the back of his hand smack across her mouth.
“You hold your tongue woman, or I cut it out. Might be nicer having a wife that couldn’t talk – especially if she’s as sassy as you.”
Janelle stifled a retort. She liked her tongue just the way it was and arguing would only bring on his fury. She’d felt his wrath once at the cabin a couple months after Jacob’s passing. When Sam Spalding did not get his way, heaven help anyone that crossed his path. It had worsened over time for now she sensed his temper about to explode.
Sam took her silence as a victory and headed for the door. “I was thinking rabbit. Should be an easy kill. I’ll be back in no time.” He bundled into his coat and boots and reached for the rifle, with a sideways snicker for her, “Bet you miss your gun, huh?” He slammed the door shut behind him and she was alone.
Janelle squeezed shut the flow of tears from the corner of her eyes. She’d not let him win. He had to sleep sometime and she’d find his gun. Killing Sam Spalding might prove necessary if she were to live a peaceful future in Belle.
Glancing around she took note of the room for the first time since she arrived. The potbelly stove pumped out the heat but most of it flew through the cracks in the dilapidated building. The one and only room where she sat contained all the characteristics of a camp cabin where men hung out between jobs or as they passed by. Nothing that screamed welcome to Sam’s kidnapped bride. Two sets of bunks covered the one wall and on the other side, three shelves containing a few dishes and pots. Knives from bored men had etched letters and drawings into the wooden table and five chairs that appeared on their last legs were stuck in the middle of the space.
That’s where she was: Stuck in the middle of a huge mess. Two doors in the front and back were her only escape. They’d tied the horses to the hitching post outside and for lack of a better idea, Janelle stood and inched her way awkwardly toward that door. The fool hadn’t secured her feet, only her hands. At the door she turned and her fingers sought the latch. She grunted from her efforts. This wouldn’t work. Even if she did manage to get outside, she couldn’t ride a horse with a chair strapped to her back. Backing up against a wall she gritted her teeth and slammed the chair against the wall, over and over. When the splinters ripped into her flesh, she couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.
In the middle of her pity party, she heard a noise. Was he back already?
She collapsed to her knees and closed her eyes knowing the worst beating was moments away. She felt the rush of the wind but refused to look. When a hand touched her, she screamed and her eyes bolted open.
“Janelle, it’s me, Bernie.” He scooped her arm through his and picked her off the floor. Their eyes met briefly and she witnessed concern deeper than she’d ever seen etched into his face. “Where’s Sam?”
“Gone hunting for the bridal supper.”
“I heard a shot a while back but didn’t investigate. I wanted to find you first,” Bernie said. “Has he laid a hand on you?”
“None, besides my face to shut me up.”
“Faces will heal but to rape a woman, that’s a mite harder to live with.” Bernie fumbled with the knots while he talked. “After your loose, take my horse and hightail it for home. Do you know the way?”
“Are there any bread crumbs left?”
“Not many, the birds have found them. If you think you don’t know which way to turn, hide in the bush. I’ll be along shortly.”
He rubbed her wrists before letting go. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Near had me frantic wondering where he’d gone with you.”
Janelle stood stupefied even when she knew time was of the essence and she best be on that horse riding before Bernie did what he come to do. His eyes held her captive, so deep a blue she could see the turbulent waves clashing with emotion. Her lips trembled and she collapsed into his arms. “Oh, Bernie. Thank you for coming. I was so scared.”
He lifted her chin to meet his gaze again and he smiled, “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away, Janelle. I love you, pure and simple, whether you want me to or not.”
“I want you to love me,” she said in a whisper.
He kissed her then, with the passion of a man who’d waited thirty long years to find love. And she kissed him back, never imagining she’d care for a man so soon after Jacob’s death. No guilt spoiled the moment and she experienced freedom in her heart. All too soon Bernie pushed her away.
“You need to go. Dress warm and head for the cabin. You can do this, Janelle.”
She nodded and moved to put on her winter coat, a wool cap, and boots. He helped her mount his horse and whispered to Blaze, “take our girl straight home, and don’t stop till you get to the barn.”
Bernie watched her leave then worked his way to the far side of the cabin, listening for signs of Sam. It didn’t take long to hear careless maneuvering through the thicket. He followed his instincts and tracked the slashed brush and noise. It appeared Sam was a poor hunter. He and Janelle would starve with his survival skills at work for them. After a few minutes, he saw the blood trail that led to a dead rabbit. He crouched behind a bush and scanned the area. He was alone. The meat laid in the open and the vultures already circled the kill.
Sam was nowhere to be seen. Bernie wondered what had caused him to take to running. He moved into the open and found imprints in the snowdrifts across the clearing and disappearing beyond the tree-line. He took off his hat and wiped his brow. How could he be sweating when the temperature had dropped low enough to freeze the drips on his face to the spot? Once in the bush he listened and could hear the careless footing of the man ahead. Bernie picked up the pace.
Five minutes later he heard the scream, not Sam’s but a woman’s – Janelle. Sam had found her. He raced now and as he drew near, he heard the yelling.
“I told you to stay in the cabin, not hiding here in the bush. How’d you get those roped untied?”
“I smashed the chair and they came loose,” she said in a voice as fierce as his. Good – Sam didn’t know Bernie was only a mere fifty yards away. Surprise was to his advantage.
“Now I like me a spunky woman, and I hoped I could leave you intact, but you give me no choice. My Pa said a good beating every day could tame the spirit of any man. Found it works on females too.”
Sam tied a rope around her waist and mounted the animal. “Hey, where did you find this beast?”
“He was on the trail just munching away so I borrowed him to make my escape.”
Sam pulled the rope toward him so that her face plastered against Blaze. “Yer lying. That no good hired hand is out here, ain’t he?”
She didn’t answer and he laughed. “Well, just let him come for you. I’ll be waiting.”
“You leave Bernie alone. He’s passing through Belle and doesn’t need to suffer for my troubles.”
Bernie’s fists tightened. She didn’t mean it, probably just trying to throw him off the scent.
Sam slackened the rope and said, “Follow me home, woman. You’ll be gettin’ no supper before I take what’s mine.”
“But I haven’t eaten all day,” Janelle argued.
“Maybe you’ll remember that next time you run off.”
“What about my son? He’ll be expecting someone to pick him up.”
“Let the hired man do it. Don’t want no squawking kids, anyway.” He roared into the air. “Are you listening, cowboy? The boy needs a father. You get on home and make the little woman happy her boy is safe and sound. Don’t need no interference from you.”
Bernie’s mind shot off in a dozen directions. Davey was a bright boy. If no one showed at three o’clock, the teacher would sound the alarm and keep him safe. His first concern was for the child’s mother. He knew she’d shrivel up and die without her son to care for.
At the cabin he watched the two go inside. He’d have to time it perfectly; after the man put his guns to the side, but before he ravished Janelle. He
crept up to a window and watched. The man wasted no time. He slung her to the floor and she fought. When she came at him a third time, he slugged her hard and Bernie’s heart sunk. Taking ropes, he tied her wrists and hung her exhausted body from a nail on the wall. It was then he threw his guns to the side and started to undo his pants. It was now or never.
Bernie hurried around to the door closest to the man and burst inside, gun raised. The man tripped as he dove for his weapon, and Bernie never thought twice about pulling the trigger. In one piercing shot, Sam Spalding, the lowest scum of the earth, was on his way to hear his Maker’s final judgement. The body rolled over and lay still and the room held a deathly silence.
He raced to where Janelle stood against the wall, bound and unconscious. Lifting her body, the ropes slid off the nail and she tumbled into his arms. Carrying her to a cot, he covered her shivering body with an old blanket. He permitted himself one brief embrace before turning to the mess on the floor. Janelle did not need that to be the first thing she saw when her eyes opened.
Sam’s carcass was wrapped in another of the wool blankets, frayed and riddled with holes. Bernie threw the corpse over his shoulder and went outside. The horse neighed in irritation as the body was slung across the saddle. Using the same ropes Sam had to bind Janelle, Bernie secured the body around the horse’s belly so he wouldn’t fall off. Deputy Will would be surprised to see them ride in. Or maybe he wouldn’t. During his brief visit to the jailhouse, it had sounded like keeping the peace was the sole objective of the lawman and he didn’t care who pulled the trigger, as long as the mischief-makers paid for their debt to society. Bernie thought he could grow to like such a man, and for the first time wondered how it felt to have a real friend. A drifter didn’t take the time to buddy-up, but if he stayed in Belle maybe the ghosts of loneliness that inhabited his soul would finally go away.
Janelle had said that she liked the fact that he loved her. He wondered if she could feel the same way. Her first marriage had been happy, ill-suited for one another, but loving just the same. A woman’s heart was a fragile thing and he hoped she’d find the frontier strength to move forward and not get stuck in the mourning of yesterday. He tied the animal to a post, close to some hay, just as the door flung open and Janelle stood on the threshold with the rifle pointed his way.
Bernie raised his hands and yelled to the half-crazed woman. “Janelle, it’s me – don’t shoot!”
The weapon wobbled but he saw her glazed eyes and wondered if she’d crossed the line to the other side of sanity in one day.
“Janelle, Sam is dead. He won’t hurt you ever again. Please, put the gun down and go back inside. It’s cold and your finger is trembling on the trigger.”
Sluggish, as if in a trance, she lowered the rifle and Bernie started toward her. Somewhere in the middle, recognition filtered through her eyes and she burst into tears. Turning, she raced inside and slammed the door. Her actions baffled Bernie but he chased in behind her. She twirled around to face him.
“Don’t you look at me!”
“Why not? What’s the matter, Janelle?”
“You can take that devil-man away then keep drifting. There’s no purity left in me.” She wrapped a blanket around her and sat in a chair rocking back and forth, murmuring. “Need to get home to Davey.”
“Davey will be fine until we get there. Town folk won’t leave him standing out in the cold.”
“Whatever will I tell him?” She broke down crying. “His Ma is tarnished and not fit for a good man, a decent father. Such a wee boy to carry the heavy responsibility.”
Her confusion sunk into Bernie’s thick skull. He raced to where she sat and fell on his knees in front of her, disregarding the sorrow in her eyes. “Janelle, you got it all wrong. Sam hit and tied you to the wall but you were unconscious. Nothing happened – I promise. I watched from the window ‘til he put down his guns and his pants were half to his knees then barged in. Sam had no chance. He nose-dived for his gun and I shot him.” Bernie gazed into her face attempting to see beyond the disbelief. “I swear it. He gave you a bad scare but he didn’t violate you.”
“He didn’t?” her voice squeaked. “Why do I feel so dirty?”
“It’s been a bad day, Janelle, but the sun will come up bright tomorrow and eventually you’ll forget that men like him exist in this world.”
She began to shake with sobs and he drew her close to him. She didn’t fight the comfort but sunk into it and Bernie wanted nothing more than to love and protect this woman for the rest of his life. But now was hardly the time to propose to the woman. The Lord would give him a better day and he felt content to wait on that.
“When you’re feeling better, we’ll go home. Then I’ll beat it off to town and deliver the body to the undertaker. Need to pick up your son, too.” Janelle sniffed and Bernie gave her a hanky from his pocket. “Might not be too clean, but neither are you,” he said. She rewarded him with the trace of a smile.
“It’ll do fine, Bernie.”
“You can have yourself a nice long bath at the cabin and tuck in bed early. I’ll treat Davey to supper at Belle’s café and after chores I’ll get him settled in his room for the night. I’ll tell him you had a bad fall and needed to lie down. By morning you’ll be back to your old self and you can get working on that birthday dress.”
Janelle almost began to cry again. “I so wanted to have it half done by tonight.”
“You’ve got all week until Saturday, that is if the dance is still on?”
“It is, Bernie Drysdale and the dress will be completed if I have to stay up every night until midnight.”
“You could wear a sugar bag and you’d be perfect.” He needed to keep busy before he lost self-control and claimed her luscious rosy-red lips. “I’ll get some icy snow for you to hold tight against your face. Might have some bruising tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Purple will match that pretty pattern in your dress. You can tell folks you painted your face to match the gown.”
Janelle giggled. “Won’t that be a sight?”
Chapter 12
The next morning Bernie walked into the cabin about the same time Davey and Janelle were having a tickle-fest. He grinned at the picture they made tumbling on the braided rug. Janelle had him pinned down and the boy was in near hysterics.
When he saw Bernie, Davey yelled while continuing to hold his stomach. “Help me, Mr. B. She’s making me half crazy.”
“Who’s making who crazy,” said Janelle as she struggled to her feet. “This boy has ridiculed me all morning. Even called me clumsy as a newborn calf before he smothered his laugh. Well, I just gave him something to laugh about is all.”
“I gather you slept well?”
“The warm bath and tea put me out for the entire night. Thank you for suggesting it.”
“Glad to be of service.” He removed his outdoor clothes and hung them on the hook by the door. “Is that eggs I see over there?”
Janelle rushed to the stove. “It is. And they’d be cooked if Davey hadn’t sidetracked me with our little skirmish over there.”
Bernie was pleased to see the puffiness receding and a healing color replace the purple welts from yesterday. Davey had accepted the excuse of clumsiness for his mother’s bruises and teased her mercilessly with fits of laughter. For Bernie, it still nagged his conscience that he’d been missing when Janelle was abducted and needed him most. With the slightest encouragement, he’d never leave her side again.
He sat at the table. “I can wait. Give my bones a chance to thaw out. Mighty cold outside.” He looked at her back as she busied herself at the stove. “Was wondering if you had any jobs you wanted done in the cabin?”
She sighed. “I have a wish list but nothing that should take you from more important tasks.”
“Phooey. After I take Davey to school, I’ll stop at the café and let Joseph know you’re a bit under the weather and won’t be in the rest of the week. Give you lots of time to nurse your face back to its healthy glow an
d work on that dress.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Drysdale,” Janelle said. “I was wondering how best to display these shiners for all of Belle to see.” She put a plate of fried bacon, diced potatoes, and three large eggs sunny side up in front of him. “I hope you like the yolk runny. I always think the best part is swiping the plate clean with fresh toasted bread.”
“The eggs are great but your toast is a tad underdone.” He flipped the limp slice of bread in the air and make a sound like a fish slapping a rock.
“Did I mention I had a wish list?”
“A toaster – you don’t have one?” asked Bernie. “I have one in my travel bag. Folds up when not in use and I set it up over the fire like a teepee”
“I won’t take your camp supplies from you, Bernie.”
“I can make you one of your own.” Bernie’s eyes lit up. “But I do have another item to scratch off your wish list.” He looked at Davey and winked. “Seems a couple horses followed us home last night – one a birthday gift from an old recently deceased admirer,” this time he winked at Janelle, “and the other a contribution to the Rimes farm from Sheriff Knight who didn’t want to house an extra horse at the town livery. Said to tell you the animals were a reward for your hardship.”
“Two horses! Davey, how could you keep that secret from me this morning?”
“Was waiting on Mr. B to come for breakfast.” His face beamed. “Told him I could keep my mouth shut. Mr. B says a person needs to be able to count on a man’s word.”
“And you passed the test with flying colors, Davey,” said Bernie.
“I got to ride on the brown one all the way home from town, and Mr. B pulled the other one behind us with a rope.”
“I don’t know what to say,” said Janelle.
“You can thank the Almighty, Janelle. He definitely worked all things out for good in the end. Blaze was mighty grateful for the company in the barn,” said Bernie. “Now I have three horses for roommates and no pigs. Must admit, it’s feeling right homey in the barn now.”
Janelle laughed. “First man I ever heard suggest that a barn could feel like home.”
From Mourning to Joy Page 9
