No One's Bride (Escape to the West Book 1)

by Nerys Leigh

  Another man from the town was with them. Adam ignored him and skidded to a stop in front of them.

  “What on earth happened, George?” he demanded. “Why weren’t you here?”

  The distress on George’s face as he looked up almost made Adam sorry he’d snapped, but he felt like he needed to blame someone and right now George was in the firing line.

  Amy raised her head to look up at Adam and a void swallowed his gut. A cut was oozing blood on the left side of her face, the surrounding flesh swollen and bruised. The right sleeve of her blouse was torn and dirt stains covered her dishevelled clothing.

  His anger melting away, he dropped to his knees in front of her and raised one hand to her face, stopping short of touching it. “You’re hurt.”

  She took hold of his hand. She was freezing.

  “It wasn’t his fault,” she said in a soft, tremulous voice that pierced Adam’s heart.

  He wrapped her hand in his, trying to warm her icy fingers. He’d failed her. I should have been here to protect you. That’s why God brought you to me.

  At the sound of footsteps behind him, Adam looked back to see Marshal Cade approaching, followed by Deputy Fred Filbert and Walter, who must have gone to fetch them after he’d come to the post office.

  Amy swivelled round on George’s lap to stand and Adam rose to his feet beside her, putting an arm around her waist to support her when she swayed a little. She leaned against his side, resting her head against his shoulder.

  “He’s inside,” George said to the marshal.

  Adam’s gaze snapped to the open front door of the livery. The man who’d attacked Amy was in there? For a moment he wished he’d known when he arrived, but then he thought it was probably a good thing he hadn’t. He’d have found it very difficult not to go straight in there and do something that would have got him thrown in jail, the last place he should be when Amy needed him.

  Marshal Cade glanced at his deputy. “Go and fetch him, Fred, and get him locked up.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Fred Filbert was unfeasibly tall and wide and looked like he could wrestle a buffalo into submission with one arm tied behind his back. Maybe the man would try to escape and Fred would have to get rough. Adam hoped so.

  “Miss Watts,” Marshal Cade said, “if you’d like to go home, I can come over later and get your statement on what happened after you’ve had some time to recover. Would you like me to have the doctor come and check on you? That’s a nasty looking cut you’ve got there.”

  She touched her fingertips to her cheek. “No, thank you. It probably looks worse than it is.”

  Angry shouts and the sounds of a very brief scuffle emanated from inside the livery. A few seconds later Fred emerged with a greasy looking man Adam didn’t recognise in handcuffs. The stranger’s gait was awkward and he winced with every step. Fred had the back of the man’s collar fisted in one huge hand as he pushed him out the door.

  In a flash of rage Adam forgot his need to keep himself on the right side of the law. He loosened his hold on Amy and stepped forward, hands clenching into fists. Beside him, Amy moved back. He looked down to see her eyes fixed on the man, wide with fear.

  Releasing the breath he was holding, Adam deliberately relaxed his hands and returned to her side, sliding his arm back around her waist. She turned into him and lifted one hand to clutch onto his shirt.

  Her trust in him wrenched at his heart. He should have been here. He should have protected her.

  The stranger glanced at her and leered. George stepped towards him with a growl. Suddenly, the man’s smile vanished as he was swung around and pushed forward. With his hands cuffed behind his back, he landed on the ground face first with a pained grunt.

  “Oops, sorry,” Fred said, his expression impassive as he bent to grab the man’s collar again. “Lost my grip there.”

  He hauled the man upright and propelled him away from them, in the direction of the marshal’s office.

  Amy’s grasp on Adam relaxed somewhat. His on her didn’t relax at all. The way he was feeling, someone would have to pry him away from her with a crowbar.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  Amy looked up at George. “Can you check on the horses? He was out there with them, but I don’t know if he did anything. He said he was going to take Clem.”

  George placed his hand on her shoulder. “’Course I will. Don’t you worry about a thing. You just go home and rest.”

  He glanced briefly at Adam before looking away. Adam stifled a sigh. He knew George cared about Amy and wouldn’t intentionally have allowed her to be hurt. Later he was going to have to apologise for his outburst.

  They left George talking to the marshal and started for home. Amy was silent; her steps slow as she stared at the ground in front of her. Adam kept his arm around her, trying to support her as best he could. He longed to pick her up and carry her, but he wasn’t at all sure she’d want him to.

  When they reached the busier part of town passersby began to stare after them and Adam steered them onto a back street leading to the rear of the post office where it was quieter.

  They stepped inside the parlour and Adam turned away to lock the door. When he turned back Amy was standing in the middle of the room, looking lost. She raised her sad eyes to his.

  Then she burst into tears.

  Adam rushed to her side, panicked, as she covered her face with her hands and cried in great, heaving sobs. He raised his hands towards her without making contact, afraid he would scare her or somehow make it worse. What was he supposed to do?

  When he couldn’t bear the sound of her distress any longer, he gently wrapped his arms around her trembling shoulders and she immediately leaned into his chest, gasping as her frenzied crying robbed her of breath. Not knowing what else to do, Adam finally picked her up, carrying her to the settee and settling her over his lap where she collapsed into him. He squeezed his eyes closed against his own tears, silently praying for the wisdom to know how to comfort her.

  After a while her desperate sobs eased and he began to pray in a whisper. “Father, Your daughter is suffering. Please, be Amy’s comfort. Wrap her in Your loving arms and strengthen her. Take away her fear and replace it with Your peace.” He cupped one hand over her cheek without touching it. “Heal this wound, Lord, and thank You for keeping her. In Your Name, Lord Jesus. Amen.”

  Her sniffles quietened and she murmured, “Thank you.”

  He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Just... keep holding me?”

  He tightened his arms around her. “For as long as you need.”

  He would hold her forever, if that was what she needed him to do.

  ~ ~ ~

  Amy sniffed. Then she sniffed again. Her hand moved to her nose.

  “You can use my shirt for a handkerchief if you like,” Adam said. “I don’t mind.”

  She began to shake and at first he was afraid she’d started crying again. Then he heard her soft laughter.

  She sat up and winced, her hand fluttering near the cut on her cheek. “It hurts to laugh.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ll try to curb my wit.”

  She laughed again and pushed his arm. “Stop it.”

  He reached out to push a few strands of hair from her face, sliding them from the congealing blood. “We should clean that up before the blood dries too much.”

  “Does it look bad?”

  “No, just a touch messy. It’ll be better when it’s cleaned.”

  If he could have, he would have taken the wound from her onto himself.

  He ran upstairs to fetch some clean handkerchiefs from his bedroom, finding it difficult to leave Amy alone even for that short amount of time. When he got back to the parlour he took a bottle of iodine and a bowl of water and sat back down with Amy on the settee.

  He handed her one of the handkerchiefs, which she used to wipe her eyes and blow her nose, then set to work cleaning the
blood from around the cut. Despite doing everything humanly possible to not cause her more pain, she still flinched a few times. It made him feel like a monster.

  After he’d apologised for the fourth time, she touched her hand to his face and said, “Please stop being sorry. I couldn’t want for anything more than having you take care of me.”

  Adam froze, staring into her eyes. When she lowered her hand and looked down with a small smile on her lips, he breathed again.

  When he’d finished with the iodine, he sat back to study his handiwork. He’d done what he could. It wasn’t a large wound and the bruising made it look worse than it was. Maybe he’d call the doctor, just to be sure.

  “Um, did he... are you hurt anywhere else?” He very much didn’t want to ask, but he had to know.

  “No.” She looked at her lap. “He tried, but I fought back as hard as I could.”

  He reached out to take her hand. “I am so proud of you. You’re the bravest person I know.”

  She raised her eyes and smiled and suddenly he couldn’t look away. He longed so much to take away everything bad that had ever happened in her life and replace it with all the love in his heart.

  How could this depth of feeling have taken hold of him in such a short time? But perhaps it had started long before they met. He’d felt an undeniable connection to Amy from the very first letter she’d written to him, so much so that by the time she arrived he was ready to fall in love. It was as if she’d been made just for him. And, he hoped, he for her.

  A knock at the front door made him start and Amy dropped her gaze and let go of his hand. Whoever it was instantly became Adam’s least favourite person in the world.

  “I, um... I’d better answer that,” he said, rising. Why was he so flustered?

  Marshal Cade and George stood on the covered porch outside the front door.

  “Is Miss Watts up to answering some questions?” the marshal said.

  “She’s doing better.” Adam stepped aside to let them in. George didn’t meet his gaze as he entered. Might as well get this over with. “Look, George, I’m sorry I got angry at you. I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Amy.”

  Expelling a deep sigh, George finally looked up. “No, you were right, I should have been there. I knew there was something off about that varmint, but I still left her alone. It’s my fault.”

  Adam saw his own guilt echoed in the older man’s eyes. “I think we’re both feeling at fault here.”

  “And it isn’t neither of your faults,” Marshal Cade said. “So stop beating yourselves up over it. It won’t do either of you any good, believe me. I’ve seen enough guilt in my time to know when it’s deserved and the only person guilty here is that rascal I’ve got in my jail.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be unbiased?” Adam said, smiling.

  “Only when I don’t know if the perpetrator is guilty,” he said. “No doubt of that in this case.”

  “Darn right,” George growled.

  Adam led them through to the parlour where Amy was still on the settee.

  “Ma’am,” Marshal Cade said, removing his hat. “How are you feeling? Are you up to telling me what happened?”

  She nodded, although Adam could see the slight tremble of her lips. She looked at George. “Are the horses all right?”

  “They’re fine. He just scared them, was all. Got them all inside now, safe and sound.”

  Some of the tension released from her shoulders. “That’s a relief.”

  He walked over to sit in the armchair close to her. “How are you?”

  She patted his hand. “I’ll be all right.”

  Adam pulled up a chair from the table for the marshal then went to sit beside her. She slipped her hand into his.

  “OK,” the marshal said, pulling a small paper pad and pencil from his shirt pocket. “George has told me everything he knows, but how about you start at the beginning so I can fill in the blanks.”

  Amy began with the first time the man had arrived at the livery and related the full story, how he’d made her uncomfortable, then not being sure about him, and how he’d returned, lured her from the livery, and attacked her. Her description of their fight had Adam’s mouth hanging open. He knew she was as strong and determined a woman as he’d ever met, but he didn’t know of any female, and not many males, who would have been able to handle themselves against a much stronger attacker the way she had. When she told of how she’d kneed him in the crotch the second time Adam almost cheered. He wanted to go down to the marshal’s office and take a shot himself.

  By the time she finished Marshal Cade was shaking his head as he finished scribbling his notes. “Miss Watts, maybe I should deputise you. You are one tough lady, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  A smile crept onto her face.

  “And I think it may give you some satisfaction to know that he’s still in a lot of pain,” he said, grinning.

  To Adam’s surprise, she laughed. “I don’t know how Christian it is of me to be pleased to hear that, but I truly am.”

  At her laughter, some of Adam’s anger melted away, and even George cracked a tiny smile.

  Marshal Cade pushed the pad and pencil back into his pocket and stood. “I’ve already found one wanted notice that’s probably him and I’m going to send telegraphs to some of the other marshals around to see if they’ve heard of him. Believe me, he’s going to jail and he won’t be getting out for a good long while.”

  “Thank you, Marshal,” Amy said. “That makes me feel much better.”

  “He should be relieved too,” he said with a smirk. “I don’t think he’d survive another round with you.”

  Adam escorted him back through the post office to the front door. “He truly won’t get out?” he said as the marshal stepped outside, out of earshot of the parlour.

  He replaced his hat. “As I said, this isn’t his only crime and I’m guessing a bit of digging will produce more. The only place he’s going is to prison and the only thing you need fret about is taking care of that brave lady of yours.”

  Adam opened his mouth to say she wasn’t his brave lady, but then thought better of it and simply said, “Thanks, Marshal, I will.” If anyone wanted to think of Amy as his, he wasn’t going to object.

  When he got back to the parlour Amy was on her feet, one hand on her hip and the other pointing at George. “So you will not even think of not letting me come back to work. Is that clear?”

  George spotted him at the door. “Adam, please tell this girl that it’s far too dangerous for her to work in the livery. I won’t be the cause of her being hurt again.”

  Adam’s gaze flicked to Amy. She turned her ire-filled eyes on him. “I... uh...”

  After the events of the past hour he wanted nothing more than for her to stay with him at all times where he could ensure nothing bad ever happened to her again. But he had to be realistic. “George, I understand how you feel, believe me. But I know Amy well enough to know that’s never going to happen. Better you just let this warrior woman carry on working for you. I think it’s safer for both of us that way.”

  She gasped, her apparent outrage tempered by the sparkle in her eyes, and grabbed a cushion, throwing it at him.

  Laughing, he caught it out of the air. “See? Even I’m not safe.”

  George rolled his eyes. “I ain’t gonna win this argument, am I?”

  “Nope,” Amy said. She took his hand. “Stop worrying and stop blaming yourself. You’re one of my favourite people in the world and I don’t want you to be sad. So stop it.”

  He harrumphed, but Adam could see the wisp of a smile before it was stamped out. Not even George was immune to Amy’s infectious charm.

  He placed a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “Get some rest, girl. And take care of that face.” Then he turned and strode from the room.

  Adam followed him to the front door.

  “Take care of her,” George said as he stepped out.

  “You know I will.”

&
nbsp; George looked past him to the open parlour door and lowered his voice to a whisper. “When you gonna tell her how you feel about her?”

  Adam’s eyes widened. “How...?”

  “Honestly, boy, if I’ve seen a more lovesick man than you in all my days, I can’t recall it.”

  Was there anyone in Green Hill Creek who didn’t know how he felt about Amy? “I’m working on it.”

  “Well work harder.”

  When Adam returned to the parlour Amy had started work on the potatoes for their evening meal. She was facing away from him, standing at the sink, but she wasn’t moving.

  He walked up to her and touched her arm. “Amy? Are you all right?”

  It took her a few seconds to respond and when she did her voice trembled. “I’m still scared. Why am I still scared?”

  He stepped in close behind her, encircled her in his arms and said softly, “Tell me what I can do.”

  A tear caught a shaft of sunlight shining in through the window as it fell into the sink. “I don’t know.”

  Adam squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his forehead against her hair, willing her fear away with every piece of his breaking heart. “How about I hold you until you’re not scared anymore?”

  She nodded and he led her to the settee where they sat and he held her tight, praying silently, until she stopped trembling and fell asleep in his arms.

  Chapter 22

  Dear Amy,

  First of all, thank you for allowing me to be so familiar. I’m beginning to feel as though we know each other, even in the few letters we’ve exchanged. Am I wrong? I hope not. I await each of your letters with such anticipation. Thank goodness Green Hill Creek has the railroad now or the amount of time I’d have to wait for them would be torture!

  I can’t imagine what being an only child would be like. My brothers and sisters and I are all so close in age that growing up there were always other children around me. My mother is a truly strong woman! There were times when I longed for the peace of it just being me (particularly when my brothers were pestering me), but I think I would have been lonely. I hope you didn’t feel that way at all. I should think your parents showered you with love and attention as their precious only daughter.