Lonesome Bride

by Megan Hart

  The first few shanties came into his view, and Jed reined the grateful Zeus down to a walk. Ahead was the smithy run by Gordy Greenspan. Jed would ask the brawny blacksmith if he'd seen anything peculiar.

  Jed didn't have to ask Gordy anything to know Hammond and Caite had been there, however. As soon as he entered the smith's building, he saw the pretty chestnut mare Daisy in the back stall. Daisy had been his mother's favorite mount, and Jed would have recognized her anywhere.

  It took only a few minutes of questioning for Jed to learn Hammond and Caite had been there no more than an hour ago. They had headed off into town, Gordy mentioned, pointing.

  "How did she look?” Jed asked harshly, thinking Hammond would regret every hurt he had caused the flame-haired woman.

  "Fine,” Gordy shrugged. “Tired, I guess. Quiet. She didn't say much, just followed the fancy fella."

  So she's all right, Jed thought in relief. Now he only had to find her.

  * * * *

  Hammond throws money around like it grows on trees, Caite thought in amazement as he dragged her from one shop to the next. She had certainly touched a chord within him with her suggestion to buy new attire. Not that she was complaining. Not only did the shopping put him in a better mood, but each stop they made, gave her more precious time.

  "Lovely, my dear Caitleen,” Hammond called, when she came from the dressing room wearing the beautiful, royal-blue gown he had selected for her.

  "Madame will wish some alterations to the gown,” the overwhelmed seamstress said, indicating several places where the dress could be let out. “We can be finished by tomorrow..."

  "No time,” Hammond cut in. “You look beautiful enough in the dress, Caitleen."

  He held up his hand against her not entirely feigned pout. “No, my dear, I'll not be swayed. I mean to wed you this afternoon, new dress or no. The choice is yours."

  Caite knew better than to try and wheedle anything more from the man. She nodded to the seamstress, who drew away respectfully.

  "Madame will wish new hose and gloves,” the seamstress offered, casting a hopeful glance at Hammond.

  "Yes, yes, all of that,” Hammond answered impatiently. His eyes gleamed as he stared at Caite and he wet his full lips. “But quickly, woman! This is my bride!"

  Caite suppressed a shudder. Perhaps the lovely new clothes were not such a wonderful idea after all. Not if they made Hammond look at her the way he was.

  As the eager shop staff brought gloves and hose for her to try, Caite wracked her brain to think of some other way to prevent Hammond from getting her to the preacher. Finally, he had paid for all the items and dragged her from the shop, and she still had not thought of another excuse to stay the wedding.

  All at once, the church ahead caught her eye. “Drake?” she asked sweetly.

  "Yes, my dear?"

  "I have one more tiny little request."

  Hammond turned to her, annoyance clearly stamped upon his face. “What is it?"

  Caite poured every ounce of charm and desirability she had into her smile. “I want to be married in a church."

  "What?” Hammond growled. “Out of the question."

  "But Drake,” Caite said, halting so he had to halt as well or yank her arm. “It is every young woman's dream to be wed in the church."

  Hammond frowned. “Is this a ploy?"

  "No,” Caite simpered. “I want my father to walk me down the aisle."

  "You despise your father as much as I,” Hammond sneered. “Why would you want such a thing?"

  "It would make him most supremely unhappy to watch me marry you after all the wealth he has lost over the years,” she said, grinning wickedly. “And it would make me happy to see him so aggrieved."

  Hammond thought for a moment, his own eyes glittering. “It would please me to no end to see Desmond's face as I make you my wife."

  Caite's heart hammered. “Can't we travel back to East Frankton and be married there? Please, Drake."

  Hammond shook his head. “I may be a fool for agreeing, Caitleen, but you have convinced me. We shall go immediately to the train now, and buy the first tickets to Philadelphia. We'll be married in East Frankton, as you wish, and I'll laugh all the way down the aisle at your stupid father's expression."

  * * * *

  Where would I go, if I were a vile, kidnapping son-of-a-dog, Jed wondered. Lonesome was just as bustling and busy as always. Without some clue as to their whereabouts, Jed had little chance of happening across them.

  In the distance, he heard the long, low whistle of the train. It was the warning whistle to let all passengers know the train was about to leave the station. At once, Jed knew where Hammond would have taken Caitleen. Now, if only Jed would be able to get there first.

  * * * *

  "Faster!” Hammond ordered, as Caite stumbled in her brand new shoes and nearly fell. “The train for Philadelphia will be leaving within minutes!"

  "I cannot walk so quickly,” Caitleen panted, struggling to keep up with Hammond's fast pace. This time, her weakness was real. Along with the new, tight shoes, she had been given a corset. It compressed her chest, fighting her every breath.

  The train station was just ahead with the sleek, black train puffing as impatiently as Hammond. The train whistled. Hammond cursed.

  "That's the warning whistle,” he cried, taking Caite's hand and physically pulling her up the last few steps to the platform. “The train is getting ready to leave!"

  "But the tickets!” Caite cried, Hammond's grip the only thing keeping her from tripping on her own feet.

  "We can buy them on board!” Hammond shouted over another blast from the train's whistle.

  He fairly knocked the conductor out of the way in order to climb the short steps to the train car. Caite panted along behind him, one hand pressed to her chest to counter the squeezing pain there. Hammond ignored her obvious distress, shoving her along the passage to an empty car and pushing her into a seat.

  "You'd best make this effort worth my while,” he told her as he settled himself into the seat facing Caite. “I'd hate to think you'd been merely toying with my affections, my dear Caitleen."

  Caite murmured a nonsensical response, too out of breath to bother with words. Dejectedly, she watched the landscape outside the train window begin to flow by faster and ever faster as the train left Lonesome. She had lost the game.

  * * * *

  Taking a chance that somehow, by the grace of God, Hammond's destination was Philadelphia, Jed had leaped aboard the outgoing train just before it pulled away from the station. He didn't have enough money for the fare, but he wouldn't worry about that now. Let them put the law on him. He didn't care. All that mattered was that he find Caite.

  He saw no sign of her in the car he had entered, which left an entire train to search. If Hammond had truly boarded the train, it would only be a matter of time before he found them. Jed went into the next car, and again found no trace of Caitleen. He saw several well-dressed men who might have been Hammond, but they were without women. Jed went to the next car.

  As the door slid shut behind him, he saw it—the glorious fire of her hair, streaming down against a rich royal-blue fabric. Her back was to him, so he could not see her lovely face, but he knew it was Caitleen. His Caitleen.

  Which meant the effeminate man across from her had to be Hammond. The three of them were the only passengers in the whole car. A cold grin crossed Jed's face, not reaching his eyes. The time had come for reckoning. He hoped Hammond was ready.

  * * * *

  Caite watched the countryside roll by, eyes barren of tears. She wanted to cry, but had nothing to spill. She was wrung dry. She could no longer even respond to Hammond's constant babbling. She could not care enough to try and fool him into thinking her a willing bride.

  "I don't believe you are listening to me. I asked you if you thought your father might die from the shock of all this,” Hammond snapped suddenly. He reached forward and clutched her chin, forcing her to m
eet his gaze.

  "I reckon that's not a very nice way to treat a lady,” came a male voice from behind her, and Caite's entire body hummed with recognition.

  "Who are you?” Hammond sneered, letting go of Caite's face.

  Caite heard a humorless laugh.

  "I reckon I'm about the last fella you were thinking to meet."

  She turned in her seat, the tears spilling out of her now like a flash flood. “Jed!"

  In an instant, she was up and out of the seat, and in his arms. He crushed his mouth to hers, and the familiar scent of him washed over her. She felt weak.

  "How sweet,” Hammond remarked dryly. Caite would not have turned to look at him, if she had not heard the distinctive click of a gun being cocked.

  Hammond had the small derringer pointed at her and Jed. A smile, almost sad, painted his full mouth. He shook his head.

  "I had so hoped not to have to use violence,” he said sorrowfully. “I do so detest messiness."

  Jed pushed Caite behind him and out of the gun's range. “Oh, it's going to get messy all right. Put down the gun, Hammond, and fight like a man."

  Hammond laughed. “Another one from the penny-dreadfuls, I see. My dear boy, don't be foolish. I have a gun, and you do not. My advice is to walk away before you or the chit get hurt."

  Before Hammond had time to fire or even duck out of the way, Jed's right fist plowed into his pretty face. Blood began spurting instantly from the dandy's squashed nose. Hammond let out a high-pitched, womanly shriek and clapped both hands to his wounded face. The derringer dropped to the ground. Caite grabbed it up.

  Jed advanced on the whimpering dandy, fists raised. “Maybe you can't fight like a man, Drake."

  Seeing the other man was not going to raise his fists in return, Jed turned back to Caite. Smiling, he reached for her.

  "Jed, look out!"

  Hammond, his blood-spattered face contorted with rage, had linked his fists together above his head. He brought them down on Jed's head in a hammering blow that knocked the younger man to his knees. As she watched Jed's face twist with pain, icy fury filled Caitleen.

  "Step away from him, Hammond, or before God, I will use this,” she declared. She pointed Hammond's fancy weapon at him. Seeing the rage in her eyes, Hammond lowered his fists and backed away from Jed.

  "I should've known better than to trust an O'Neal,” he muttered.

  "You should have, but you did not,” Caite retorted.

  Jed was already on his feet. With characteristic swift efficiency, he tore several strips of cloth from Hammond's elegant vest and bound the dandy's hands and feet.

  "That'll keep him until we can find the conductor,” Jed said, watching in obvious enjoyment as Hammond struggled against his bonds.

  "I knew you'd come for me,” said Caite solemnly, tossing the hateful derringer to an empty seat far from Hammond's reach. “I never doubted you, not for an instant."

  Jed's brilliant emerald eyes shone at her, and he gathered her into his arms. “I was so afraid he'd take you away, Caitey."

  This time, the endearment upon his lips made her sigh with happiness. Caite enfolded herself in Jed's warm embrace, thankful only to have his arms around her again. Suddenly, he pushed her away from him, and she made a soft cry of protest.

  "What?” she asked, puzzled.

  Jed had gotten down on one knee in front of her, her hands still clasped in his. His face was solemn, but his eyes twinkled, as he planted a kiss on first one of her hands, then the other.

  Taking a deep breath, he said, “Caitleen O'Neal, I love you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

  Caite nodded, too filled with joy to speak. Then she was in his arms again, and nothing else mattered.

  EPILOGUE

  The baby's cry echoed throughout the airy room. Caite nuzzled the downy head and put the hungry child to her breast, relishing the new sensation of motherhood. She had never been so tired, or so fulfilled, in her life.

  "She's beautiful,” Jed murmured in wonder, stroking the soft red fuzz of the babe's head. “She's going to have your hair."

  "And your eyes,” Caite teased, knowing she and Jed shared the same color eyes.

  "A fine, healthy girl,” Gerda announced, clearing away the last of the cloths used in the birthing.

  "Her name is Unagh,” Caite whispered, touching the tiny girl reverently. “After my mother's mother."

  "It is a lovely name.” Lorna beamed as if they had named the wee one after her.

  Then Lorna and Gerda withdrew to leave the new family in peace.

  "I love you, Caitleen,” Jed whispered, kissing her lightly. “I reckon you've made me the proudest papa in all of Lonesome and Staghorn combined."

  Caite laughed quietly. “At least until Sally has her baby."

  Sally had been too far gone with her own pregnancy to attend to the birth, but Caite knew the woman's thoughts were with her. She would be so excited to see the newest little Peters, but that would have to wait until Caite and Unagh both were a little stronger. For now, mother and child merely snuggled into the fresh pillows together, weary from the ordeal of birth.

  Caite looked with tired happiness around the bedroom Jed had built for her. Their own room, in their own house, with a big front porch just as she had dreamed so many months ago.

  Tiny Unagh lifted her mouth from her mother's breast and gurgled happily. Within seconds, the baby was asleep, her perfect rosebud mouth working as if she still suckled. The sight of such small perfection brought tears to Caite's eyes.

  She had never dreamed she could experience such love, first with the man who knelt so worshipfully beside her bed, and now with this delicate little daughter. God and the fates have truly been kind to me, she thought.

  She touched Jed's hair, then his cheek. “I love you, Jed Peters. For now and for always."

  "For now and for always,” Jed whispered back.

  Nothing could be more perfect, Caite thought as she looked into her husband's shining green eyes. He loved her, and she him, and nothing would ever keep them apart again.

  Megan Hart

  Megan Hart began her writing career in grammar school when she plagiarized a short story by Ray Bradbury. She soon realized that making up her own stories was better than copying other people's, and she's been writing ever since.

  Megan's award-winning short fiction has appeared in such diverse publications as Hustler, On Our Backs and The Reaper. Her novels include every genre of romance, from historical to steamy futuristic SF. In addition to her short erotic fiction for the Amber Kisses imprint, look for her other Amber Quill novels: Riverboat Bride, Convicted! and Love Match.

  Megan's current projects include a fantasy series, a futuristic trilogy and a dramatic suspense novel. Her dream is to have a movie made of every one of her novels, starring herself as the heroine and Keanu Reeves as the hero.

  Megan lives in the deep, dark woods of Pennsylvania with her husband and two monsters ... er ... children.

  Learn more about Megan by visiting her website: www.meganhart.com

  AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC

  Quality Books, Print And Electronic

  Horror

  Romance

  Fantasy

  Mainstream

  Young Adult

  Science Fiction

  Suspense/Thriller

  Action/Adventure

  Non-Fiction

  Paranormal

  Historical

  Western

  Mystery

  Erotica

  Buy Direct And Earn Free Books!

  www.amberquill.com

  * * *

  Visit www.amberquill.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.

  This eBook is published by

  Fictionwise Publications

  www.fictionwise.com

  Excellence in eBooks

  Visit www.fictionwise.com to find more titles by this and other top authors in Science Fiction, Fantasy, Horror, Mystery, an
d other genres.