Shotgun Bride

by Lopp, Karen

  With one backward glance and a heavy sigh, he rode down the road to whatever played out. He could have told Kathleen his plan, but he knew she’d never agree to it. That she wouldn’t have been willing to put him in danger for her own safety. She just wasn’t like that. Her heart was too kind for that. And he just couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to her.

  A few hours later, he dismounted in front of the saloon in Raton. Time to play his trump card and get the bastard Hawkins to leave Kathleen alone. He grimaced. The place was crowded tonight. The more, the better.

  Mike blew out a breath, dusted his pants, and swaggered through the swinging doors. Laughter flowed among the men and the soiled doves lounging around the room. He spotted his quarry, then shoved his hat back and forced his lips upward in a wide grin.

  “You look happy. Marriage must agree with you.”

  Mike winked at the bartender. “No, I’m a free man. Set me up a round.”

  He slapped some bills in the bartender’s hand and pounded on the bar. “This round’s on me. I’m celebrating.”

  Chairs scraped in the sawdust as hoots and cheers went up.

  “What’s the occasion?” someone shouted.

  “I just made an excellent trade.”

  “Come on, Baca, spit it out.”

  “Well, I took my new wife to see her land and she had a royal fit. She offered me her land if I agreed to end the marriage. I took her up on it. I’m now the proud owner of Simpkins’ place.”

  “How you figure that?”

  “She was his heir. Guess she prefers New York.” Mike watched Hawkins turn three shades of purple. Good. His plan was working. “Figured I’d plant some hay over in that low patch by the creek. Build a few dams to control the water.” He tossed back his shot of whiskey. “Maybe even move out there since someone burned down my house the other day. Whooped my boys good, too.”

  “Hell you say. Know who did it?”

  “I have my ideas. They stole my wife, and I had to go and rescue her.” Mike laughed and shook his head. “Sure scared her though. That’s part of the reason she wanted to leave. Called us all a bunch of uncivilized barbarians.” He slapped the bar. “Told me to get her on the fastest train out of here and to keep the cursed ranch.”

  “Hell man, you’re set up sweet now,” the bartender said.

  “You bet I am. Couldn’t have worked out better. Guess that little shotgun wedding wasn’t so bad after all.” He let his gaze travel around the room. “Course, I ain’t about to forget all the friendly faces that day.”

  Silence descended on the room. A few men hustled out the back door. All eyes swiveled to Hawkins. He glared at Mike, one hand resting near his gun, face flushed and sweat gleaming on his forehead. The half- empty whiskey bottle told its own story. Shooting an inebriated man wouldn’t look good. But let the chips fall where they may. Kathleen deserved a chance to live her life as she chose.

  Mike swirled the liquid in his glass. “I’m sure Hawkins and I can work out a deal.” He sauntered across the room to the table Hawkins sat at. “Mind if I sit?” He didn’t wait for a response, but settled back in the chair and grinned. “You look a little sick. Things not going how you planned?”

  Hawkins narrowed his eye and leaned forward. “When she turns up dead, just remember that you told me you wanted rid of her. Who do you think the town will believe? You or me?”

  Mike chuckled. “Face it, Hawkins, I have Simpkins’ land and water, you don’t. And just so you know, I sure as hell don’t intend to marry Sally.” Finger tapping on the glass, he shot Hawkins a glare. “You should have kept your daughter in line and perhaps I’d have walked into your trap.”

  “You could still have all three ranches. We could be partners.” Hawkins’ offer screamed of desperation.

  Mike put his elbows onto the table and twirled the glass between his hands. “Nope, I don’t want anything to do with that hussy.”

  Veins popped out on Hawkins forehead. “You dare call Sally names?”

  “What, you don’t know who she carries on with? Go home and watch.”

  “She’s still my daughter, and I still have control.”

  Mike raised a brow. “Really? Looks like I have what you wanted.” He leaned close. “And it’s all legal.”

  “I’ll kill you.”

  With a slight shrug, Mike smiled. “You can try. But last time didn’t work too well for you, now did it?”

  Hawkins poured more whiskey into his empty tumbler. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Deny all you want, but in the end, the fact is I own the water. You don’t.” Mike took another gulp of his tepid beer. “If you play nice, I might not cut you off.” Throat dry and stomach writhing like an anthill, he pushed his hat back and tipped back in the chair. Hawkins had to take the bait or he had just torn Kathleen’s tentative trust to shreds for nothing.

  “Anybody for a game of poker?” he asked when Hawkins took another shot.

  “Come on over, Baca, I’ll fleece you.”

  Mike settled in for a long night and even allowed one of the girls to perch on his lap and nibble on his ear. He swallowed the bile in his throat and gulped down another beer. Jimmy suddenly showed up at the table.

  Jimmy picked up his hand of cards. “Hawkins won’t take this you know. He’ll retaliate somehow.”

  Mike narrowed his eyes. “That a warning?”

  “No, just a fact. And I want you to know I’m staying out of it.”

  “Barker won’t.” Mike tossed a card onto the pile, not really caring if he won or lost. He had already lost all that mattered to him. He only hoped that this performance worked out for Kathleen.

  Jimmy snorted. “He’s a coward. Just pull your gun on him and he’ll run all the way back to Kansas.”

  “Why are you suddenly my best friend?”

  “I’m not. But I have what I want. You now have what you want.” Jimmy smiled. “Besides, I don’t have any doubts on who will win this fight.” He flipped a coin into the pile. “Neighbors should get along.”

  “Yeah, you just want to make sure I don’t cut off that water.”

  “So?”

  With a shake of his head, Mike glanced at the cards in his hand. Sitting here just gave Hawkins time to set up an ambush. But it was a gamble he chose to make. He could already feel a noose around his neck and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. He needed to make out a will tonight. Before he left town. Before he ended up face down in a pool of his own blood.

  Halfway through the first hand of cards, Hawkins stormed out of the saloon, his bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm. The man had had too much to drink. Seemed like lately he always had a drink in hand. Maybe that would help. Everyone here had seen him drunk. Maybe he could make it so it looked like Hawkins was out of his mind.

  Mike tossed his cards on the table. “I’m out.”

  “But the game ain’t over yet,” the young cowboy protested.

  “Leave the man alone. You got all night to fleece somebody else.” Jimmy laid his cards down. “Keep the pile. I’m finished.”

  Mike glanced at Jimmy. Why the sudden friendly act? But then, Jimmy hadn’t ever been his enemy. Except for letting Sally lead him around by the nose. Mike understood the power of a woman. He’d do anything for Kathleen.

  “Come on, Mike, I’ll ride out with you a ways,” Jimmy offered.

  “I’m not leaving yet.”

  Jimmy shot him a surprised stare. “What’s on your mind?”

  Mike studied Jimmy. He needed someone else to witness his will and neither Hank nor Juan was in town. “Thought I’d stop by Farley’s and write out a will.”

  Jimmy laughed. “Doubt you’ll need one.”

  “Will you witness it for me?”

  “If y
ou want me to. But I’m betting you’ll win, not Hawkins.”

  “Either way, you’ll still marry Sally. And get a ranch.”

  “True.” Jimmy shrugged. “I’ll sign as a witness.”

  A slight pink tinged the sky when Mike rode into his yard. A thin column of smoke wafted up the bunkhouse chimney. He rubbed the grit from his eyes and braced for a confrontation.

  He clanked up the steps and went inside. “Coffee ready?”

  Hank looked past Mike’s shoulder through a slightly opened black eye.

  Juan, not much better, stared at him. “Where is she?”

  “Gone.”

  Juan slapped the table. “What do you mean gone?”

  “She went home. I got the ranch.”

  “This is her home.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “But”

  “That’s the way it is. Since breakfast isn’t ready, I’ll go unsaddle Blackie.”

  Mike pivoted and felt Hank’s disapproval and Juan’s disbelief boring twin holes in his back. He didn’t know if they’d stay or quit on him.

  In the barn, Mike slid down the wall and hung his head. He’d played his hand but he couldn’t escape the barren desert of his soul.

  Hawkins chaffed under Mike’s taunt as he stomped up the steps to his home. All those months wasted on planning and executing his plan to steal Ben Simpkins’ land. First, Ben had had the blasted foresight to write a will and leave it on record with a judge in Santa Fe. Then his spoiled brat of a daughter messed up his plans and Miss Barnes had failed to run to his waiting arms for protection. Now Baca managed to get rid of the girl and let the entire town believe she simply went back to New York.

  Hawkins snorted. She lay dead in a shallow grave somewhere. And Mike’s open challenge meant all suspicion would fall on his shoulders should Mike suddenly have a tragic accident. Damn him and damn Sally. He’d eventually find a way to punish Mike but tonight Sally would pay for her bungling part.

  Flinging the whisky bottle at the fireplace as he stormed up the stairs, Hawkins ignored the tightness gathering in his chest. He kicked Sally’s door open. “Get up, daughter.”

  He heard her gasp, but the whiskey-induced haze prevented him from seeing clearly and sweat soaked his shirt. A heavy weight settled in his chest.

  “Get out, Father, the sun is barely up.”

  He punched the doorframe. “You worthless brat. If you had just married Baca, none of this would have happened.”

  “I don’t want to marry that unsophisticated half-breed. He’s beneath me.”

  “I want his ranch. You didn’t have to keep him. A fatal accident could always have been arranged. Now the fool has killed his new bride who, by the way, owned Simpkins’ place.”

  Hawkins stumbled to the edge of the bed. “I hate losing.” He reached for Sally but suddenly clutched his arm as sharp ripples of pain prickled up and down in waves. His knees buckled and the weight in his chest intensified as he collapsed across the bed.

  Sally squirmed out from under him.

  “Wait.” Hawkins tried to move, tried to breathe, but blackness darker than the night swept over him.

  In a pain-filled haze, he heard Sally’s voice near his ear. “Goodbye, Father.” She laughed. It was the last sound he heard.

  Chapter 22

  Shirtless, Mike chopped wood. Sleep was useless. All he did was have dreams of Kathleen. How sweet her surrender had been. How perfectly she’d made love, even for a novice. How passionate, caring, and loveable she was.

  He swiped his forearm over his sweaty brow and ignored the grumble in his stomach. The smell of breakfast lingered in the air, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop and eat. He was not ready to deal with Hank and Juan. They were bursting with questions and he was too drained to answer. The less they knew, the better anyway. This was his battle, not theirs. And their bruised and battered faces reminded him of the brutal beating they took for him.

  A shadow fell across his ax. Mike glanced up.

  “Howdy, Mike.”

  “What brings you here, Jimmy?”

  “Hawkins died last night. Sally says his heart gave out.”

  Mike stared at Jimmy. Hawkins dead? That quick and that simple? He struggled to find words, but only cheerful ones came to mind.

  Jimmy smiled. “Thought you’d like that piece of news.”

  Mike gripped the ax handle. His gut tumbled like a whirlwind. With Hawkins dead, Kathleen was safe. Or was she? “When are you and Sally getting hitched?”

  Jimmy snorted. “She wants some big shindig, so who knows? Right now, she’s planning on making a trip to Denver for a custom-made dress. She wanted to leave right after the funeral, but I told her to wait a bit.”

  “You going with her?”

  “No, I have a ranch to run.” He paused and offered his hand. “Friends?”

  Mike sighed. He’d rather punch Jimmy and mess up his face before the wedding but they were neighbors and it’d be better if they managed to get along. Especially if he found Kathleen and convinced her to return. He accepted the gesture. “Just don’t ever interfere in my life again.”

  “Sally kinda made me loco.”

  Mike chuckled. “Good luck living with that one.”

  “Look, Baca, I’m real sorry you and your wife couldn’t get along. Don’t give up. Maybe she’ll change her mind and come crawling back. That is, if you want her to.”

  “Kathleen won’t crawl back.”

  “Sounds like you wouldn’t mind.”

  Damn it. He’d torn the beginnings of a promising future to shreds just to have Hawkins up and die. Why couldn’t the man have done it a week sooner? “Doesn’t matter now.”

  Jimmy scuffed the toe of his boot in the dirt. “The girl did have a few scares. Maybe if you told her the danger was over, she’d reconsider.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I feel a little rotten about it, that’s all. I never wanted an innocent girl getting hurt.”

  “You don’t know Kathleen.”

  Jimmy smirked. “What, and after few weeks, you do?”

  Mike stilled. Somehow he did know her. Not much about her, but he knew her. Knew every curve of her face. Could read the expressions in her eyes. When she was happy, sad, angry, or afraid. He would recognize her in any disguise just by the way she moved.

  And because of that knowledge, Mike knew beyond any doubt that regaining Kathleen’s trust would be a Herculean endeavor. Kissing her anger away wouldn’t work this time. “Maybe not.” He shoved his hat back. “Thanks for bringing me the news. Now I won’t have to look over my shoulder all the time.”

  Jimmy shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why don’t you go fetch your wife?”

  The hairs on his neck stood up. “What makes you think I want to?”

  “Because you sure as hell aren’t jealous of me.”

  Mike shoved his overactive suspicions aside. Hawkins had been the one behind every attempt on Kathleen. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Get back in time for my wedding.” Jimmy stalked off.

  Mike was tempted to throw caution to the winds and hightail it to New York, but a niggle in the back of his mind stopped him. He’d wait and see how things fell out before charging after Kathleen. At least folks bought his story. Even Jimmy believed him single again. But Jimmy also knew about his will. Not one of his smarter decisions. He shouldn’t have consumed those five, or was it six, beers while playing poker.

  Hank brought him a plate of food. “You avoiding us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thought so. What’d Jimmy want?”

  “Hawkins died last night. Must have had a weak heart.”

  “You don’t say. Then maybe I won’t get the crap beat out of me again.”<
br />
  “I’m sorry about that.”

  Hank spat. “Don’t you go gettin’ all soft on me, or I will quit.”

  Mike chuckled. “I won’t.”

  “Since you ain’t running to New York, you must think it ain’t safe yet. So, what do you want me and Juan to do?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “Always go with your hunches, boss.”

  Mike gazed to the east. Soon, he’d go crawling after Kathleen.

  Kathleen disembarked from the stage in front of a hotel in Denver. If Mike expected her to return to New York, he was destined to be disappointed. Yesterday, she had been surprised at the amount of money he’d left her. No doubt he didn’t count it or she’d be shy several hundred dollars. But he’d never see it again.

  Kathleen gazed around at the booming town. The place she planned on starting over. For the third time. But now, she wouldn’t trust a single soul.

  She squared her shoulders against the bitter loneliness curling around her and trudged down the sidewalk. Several shops lined the bustling street. Wagons stirred up dust and a small thrill of excitement cracked through her apprehension. Denver held promise, and was larger than she expected.

  “Well, Father, I’m not giving up,” she whispered under her breath. “And, Mother, I will find success.” Oh, how she missed her family.

  As Kathleen passed a miller’s shop, an outdated dress caught her attention. She stopped and studied the style. Yes, it was the same pattern she’d reproduced for Mr. Sharp over a year ago. She stepped inside.

  A friendly middle-aged man approached. “May I help you, miss?” He had a distinct French accent.

  “Perhaps we could help one another.”

  He raised one dark brow.

  Kathleen smiled. “I apologize for being abrupt. My name is Kathleen Barnes and I’ve spent the last six years sewing in New York. I have a proposition for you.”