Forever His Texas Bride (Bachelors of Battle Creek #3)

by Linda Broday

  “I won’t come home without her again.” Brett stepped through the opening, and Cooper followed.

  Rand stood beside the fire, stirring something. He glanced up. “Fixed you some supper, little brother. Not gonna argue about it. Eat and we’ll ride. Don’t eat, and we’ll tie you up and leave without you.”

  “You know what, Rand? You have a sorry attitude,” Brett said, taking a seat beside him. He would’ve said a lot more, but he saw his horse saddled and waiting with the others.

  He filled a plate with beans and potatoes and sat down next to Adam. While the men ate, they formed a plan, leaving no margin for error. They’d tie up the horses in the deep shadows of the trees, and then all three would slip through the brush to the clearing. Brett and Cooper would make their way to the barn. Rand would stay near in case they needed him, either to help fight or lend a hand with Rayna and the men after they rescued them.

  “It’s good,” Rand said. “We’ll make it work. What do you think about a few of the ranch hands lighting a bonfire in the corner of the property to draw some of the riffraff from across the way?”

  Cooper frowned. “That would make it easier for us, but wouldn’t that just draw them over here? If they attacked, we wouldn’t have anyone much here to defend the women and children. Do we really want to risk that?”

  “One man could do it, then ride back here,” Adam said quietly. “I will do it.”

  The fire crackled and popped as Brett weighed the pros and cons. Finally, he spoke. “No. It’s too dangerous. I think it’s better not to prod them. We’ll manage.”

  “She’s family,” Adam said quietly. “Bring her home.”

  How true. She was from the first time he laid eyes on her and she’d snuck into his heart.

  Brett took Adam aside and squeezed his shoulder. “I want you to watch over the children. I know you won’t let me down.”

  His nephew’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it, but I wish I was going with you.”

  “I know, but I need you here more.” Brett’s gaze scanned the land he loved. “In case I don’t make it back, the Wild Horse is yours. I’ve seen how much this place means to you, and you’ll cherish it as I do.”

  The tremble of Adam’s bottom lip gave him away, as did the fact that he had to clear his throat before he could speak. “You’re coming back, ain’t you? I don’t know enough yet.”

  “Neither did I at first. You’ll learn. I’m proud of you, son. If I could have a boy, I’d want him to be just like you.”

  “Uncle Brett, I never told you how glad I am we came here and how much your patience meant. No one treated me like a man before or took time to show me things. I’m sure you wanted to wring my neck though.” Adam gave a strangled laugh.

  “True, but I saw that you were worth every second spent. I don’t regret a thing.”

  “Me neither.”

  From the corner of his eye, Brett noticed Cooper and Rand moving toward six horses—one for each plus three for Rayna and the men. Grim-faced ranch hands gathered around. Each man carried a rifle in the crook of his elbow. Each one would give his all. They were as tough a bunch as Brett had seen.

  He told them that he’d be ready in five minutes and strode a few yards toward the corral. Relying on some instinct that his proud ancestors had passed down in their blood, he raised both arms toward the sky, even though his right arm pulled his wound, causing him to suck in a breath against the blinding pain.

  With his eyes closed and head tilted back, he called on the spirits to surround and protect. He asked for their wisdom, guidance, and help in freeing Rayna and the men.

  He knew all eyes were on him and the ranch hands probably thought him strange, but it didn’t matter. His heart told him this was important.

  Before he moved back to them, he opened his eyes and drew his leather medicine pouch over his head, holding it out away from him. “Great Spirit, please see fit to let me return. If it’s not to be, allow my spirit to remain here on this land where the horses roam free and the sky meets the earth.”

  Kissing the sacred bag that contained his power and courage, he returned it to his neck. He embraced the strong feeling of peace surrounding him as he joined the others.

  His heart spoke the words that filled his head. Rayna, I’m coming for you.

  *

  A black canopy had dropped over the countryside by the time Brett and his brothers crossed onto Dowlen’s land from the road.

  They tied their horses in a thick grove of oak and elm. Brett felt satisfied they’d hidden the animals well and far enough away in case they nickered. Giving the mounts one last look and issuing his brothers a warning not to make noise, Brett led his brothers’ painstaking advance.

  Each step meant carefully lifting their heels and placing them down no more than six inches ahead. Time passed slowly as they crept closer. Sweat rose on his forehead and covered his palms. He stood to lose so much.

  An hour must’ve passed before they heard the first low murmur of voices. Flickering light from a campfire glimmered through the brush. Brett held up his arm, signaling for Cooper and Rand to stop.

  He listened to the men complain that they didn’t have any liquor. Seemed their employer had confiscated all their whiskey. Brett grinned. A sad state of affairs for sure.

  They proceeded with even more caution and began a path around the disgruntled group.

  Brett froze at the snapping of a twig that echoed in the darkness like the crack of a gunshot. One bead of sweat broke away from the others and trickled toward his eye. Barely moving a muscle, he brushed it away.

  “What’s that?” One of the men by the campfire jerked to his feet. “I heard something.”

  “For God’s sake, George, sit down,” another said. “You’re awful jumpy. It was probably a fox creepin’ around in the woods. Can’t be anything else but a varmint out here. That Indian an’ his brothers ain’t gonna be messin’ with the new boss man.”

  “Probably right. Be damn fools if they did.” The man named George sat down. “He’ll give ’em a taste of how it feels to lose everything—just like we did to the damn Comanche.”

  A third spoke up, “Where the hell did those damn soldiers come from? We had ’em whipped until they showed up. Thought I wouldn’t get out alive. I ain’t gonna fight a bunch of soldiers. How did the breed get ’em here?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe he used one of those magic chants or something,” George said.

  “Well, I ain’t gonna mess with the U.S. Army. No way.”

  A grin curved Brett’s lips. Sounded like Edgar Dowlen and Oldham had a mutiny on their hands. They waited until the grumblers settled back by the fire before resuming their mission. They couldn’t afford to make another mistake.

  Their inch by inch progress measured a slow passage of time. When they reached the edge of the clearing, the moon was high overhead.

  In front of them was a large corral that had to hold at least fifty or sixty horses. Though definitely less than before, tents formed a circle around the enclosure.

  It appeared the enemy forces had seen a slight shrinkage but still outnumbered them significantly.

  Brett stared at that corral, his brain working. If only he could creep over to it and let the animals out. That would give them the advantage.

  Only the open ground had no place to hide. Not so much as a bush or wagon. That, plus the dozens of men milling around the horse pen, made him scrap the plan. He lay in the tall grass on his stomach, his attention shifting to the dark barn. The guards in front of the structure seemed to indicate Rayna was probably inside. Her presence washed over him. His blood pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else. He needed to, or he’d make a fatal mistake.

  Knowing she was somewhere nearby played havoc with his mental state.

  Soon, he promised. Soon he’d free her.

  But the lever of a rifle above him, ratcheting a bullet into the chamber, froze his blood.

  Thirt
y-five

  “Get up slow an’ keep your hands where I can see ’em,” a man barked.

  Brett recognized that voice. This wasn’t a drunk. He turned.

  Oldham.

  With slow movements, Brett and his brothers stood.

  “Toss the rifles,” the ex-lawman ordered.

  Cooper laid his rifle on the ground beside Brett’s and Rand’s and drawled, “Our paths sure do seem to keep crossing.”

  Oldham glared. “You put a kink in my plans before, but this time I’ve got the upper hand, Thorne.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”

  “By rights I could shoot all three of you. You’re trespassing.”

  A distraction would sure come in handy. Brett caught Rand’s attention with a faint motion of his head.

  A second later, Rand began coughing, lightly at first, then doubling over with the effort. With the show his brother put on, he needed to be onstage.

  The minute Oldham focused on Rand, Brett slid his knife from the sheath in one smooth sweep while the other hand grabbed the rotten sheriff around the neck. The sudden movement sent sharp waves of agony through Brett’s shoulder and chest.

  Fighting back a wave of nausea, Brett anchored Oldham tightly against him and pressed the knife to his throat. “One sound and you’re dead.”

  “You won’t get away with this. I reckon you came after your dirty squaw. You won’t find her.”

  “We’ll see.” Brett increased the pressure of the knife, drawing blood. “I said no talking.”

  Cooper quickly took possession of the rifle and the Colt in the holster. “Nice work.”

  “Rand deserves a pat on the back. That was some performance. Anyone happen to bring some rope?” Brett whispered, forcing their prisoner into the dense brush.

  Their middle brother pulled a good-sized length from inside his shirt. “I thought this might come in handy.”

  “Great.” Cooper took it and bound Oldham’s hands behind his back while Rand removed the bandanna from his neck and tied it around their captive’s mouth.

  Once they had him secured and hidden, Cooper delivered a blow to the back of his head with one of the Colts. The man slumped over. Brett returned his bowie knife to its sheath.

  This was twice they’d escaped in one night. He knew they might not be so lucky again. Luck ran out eventually.

  And when it did…

  He tried to push that thought out of his mind as he slowed his breathing and settled back into the grass, watching, waiting. So far no one seemed to have heard them.

  The two guards patrolling the dark barn walked back and forth in front of the entrance. One stopped to light a cigarette, and the pinpoint of light gave Brett hope that they were too busy seeing to their own cravings to pay attention.

  “What do you think?” Cooper asked low, lying next to him.

  “We can use the brush as cover, work our way around until we’re dead even, then rush the two guards and knock them out.” Brett prayed it would be as easy as it sounded.

  “I agree.”

  Rand dropped down on his belly next to them. “I noticed some hounds over by the house in the shadows. Looks to be about three or four. How are you going to keep them from sounding the alarm?”

  Brett mentally kicked himself. He should’ve seen those dogs. What was the matter with him, and what else had he missed? The pain and fear had dulled his brain.

  “Wish we had a hunk of meat or a juicy bone.” Cooper propped himself on his elbows. “But since we don’t, we have to come up with something, or we’ll be up a creek as soon as we move toward the barn.”

  One thing about it, Brett wasn’t going to leave without Rayna. He didn’t care how many obstacles stood in his way.

  After carefully studying the situation for a good five minutes, Brett spoke. “I’ll draw them out and get them barking their fool heads off. Whoever checks on the pack won’t find anything. Then as soon as they stop barking, I’ll do it over and over until no one will pay them any mind, and the men will stop coming to find out the cause of the ruckus.”

  “Damn, Brett, you have quite a devious mind,” Rand said.

  “Thanks. But there is one flaw. What if they don’t stay next to the house? What if they come sniffing around over here?”

  “Maybe they’re tied up,” Rand said hopefully. “Only one way to find out.”

  Cooper frowned. “Little brother, any ideas about how to get the mutts to bark?”

  “Might. Got some string?”

  “Now do we look like we carry string around everyplace we go?” Rand whispered furiously.

  “Guess that leaves rocks,” Brett declared. “I’ll move closer and pitch some in their direction. Coop, if it works, meet me by the barn.”

  “Might not hurt to check on Oldham.” Rand rolled to a sitting position. “I’ll tie him to a tree and conk him on the head again to make sure he stays out. Might knock some sense into him too.”

  “Be careful, Brett,” Cooper said low.

  Brett nodded and melted into the darkness. He silently moved from tree to tree, and it didn’t take long to reach the hounds. He scoured the ground for pebbles and found some nice ones. Drawing back, he let one fly and it landed perfectly about a yard on the other side of the dogs.

  They set up some furious barking, straining on their ropes. Brett grinned and shrank into the shadows.

  A rifle-toting, whiskered man flew from the house, searching for the cause. He hollered to the guards in front of the barn, asking if they’d seen anything. When they said no, he shook his head and went back inside, muttering something about crazy, worthless hounds and the moon.

  Again and again, Brett made them bark until finally, the rifle-toter got disgusted and moved them around to the back of the house.

  The plan worked.

  Brett met Cooper deep in the shadows of the barn and quietly advanced on the two guards. Striking them sharply on the back of the head, they dragged them into the brush.

  Brett cautiously led the way into the barn in case Dowlen had posted more guards inside. But they encountered no problems.

  …until he discovered Rayna wasn’t with the ranch hands.

  Fear of what might’ve happened to her left deep ruts inside. Removing the gag from Joe’s mouth, Brett learned that a man had come and taken Rayna. Joe didn’t know where though.

  “She was real brave. Fought like a wildcat,” Joe said and gave Brett her message.

  A muscle quivered in Brett’s jaw as he tried to control the flood of emotion. He’d tear the place up looking for her.

  “There’s something else,” Joe said, telling them about the fight between Dowlen and Oldham and that Oldham was now in charge.

  “Not anymore.” Brett told him Oldham was tied up. “Maybe this will end now.”

  Cooper’s care in helping his men up came as no surprise. Brett knew they meant much more to his brother than hired ranch hands. They were family, just like Rayna was his. The way Cooper’s arm slid around Charles’s badly injured body, gripping him tightly, said everything.

  “Can you get them back to Rand and then to the horses by yourself?” Brett asked.

  “I can walk under my own power, boss,” Joe insisted.

  “Good.” Cooper turned to Brett. “You go find Rayna. We’ll be fine. Wish I could stay to help, but all hell may break loose here in a minute. If you’re not at the Wild Horse in a few hours, I’m coming back.”

  Brett gave a curt nod, then Cooper moved toward the door, half carrying Charles. Brett followed them into the inky blackness, his mind already working on finding Rayna.

  Mindful of the dogs, he snuck to all the outbuildings and peered inside.

  When he didn’t find her, he glanced toward the two-story house, wondering if they could have her inside. His mind went to places that he’d rather not go, but one thing for sure, he wouldn’t put anything past his enemy.

  The minutes ticked loudly in Brett’s head as he stood there, stumped. The longer he sp
ent on the property, the riskier it was. He turned to retrace his steps when he spied a wagon.

  The hair rose on the back of his neck.

  Bones, piled high, glistened in the moonlight with an unearthly glow. Some had spilled on the ground, and the sloppy pile stood higher on one side. A sixth sense urged him forward. As he approached, he heard a muffled moan.

  Down at his feet lay Rayna’s medicine bag. The long, narrow strap had been cut.

  “Rayna, it’s me,” he whispered, picking up the soft pouch and sticking it inside his shirt. “I’ll have you out in a minute.”

  One by one, Brett silently lifted the bones, placing them on the ground. At last he saw some blue fabric.

  Removing a few more bones, he saw her—his Wish Book woman.

  His hands shook as he placed his arms under her legs and freed her from her chilling prison. Cradling her against him, he held her for a long moment before setting her down and removing the gag from her mouth.

  “You came,” she said low. “Raymond Harper promised a slow, painful death by starvation.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” He couldn’t resist her moist lips. Giving her a quick kiss, he asked, “How did Harper come to be here?”

  Rayna clung tightly to him. “I’m not sure, but he’s thrown in with them.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me. Are you able to walk?”

  “Yes. How far to the horses?”

  “A ways. If you can’t make it, I can carry you.”

  With an emphatic shake of her head, she said, “I don’t know how you’re standing. I’m sure you hurt something awful. I can make it.”

  He put his arm around her anyway, and they hurried toward the trees and safety.

  Before they reached the cool, dark shadows of the woods, a voice behind said, “Not so fast, breed. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  Raymond Harper.

  Brett turned and stared into the glistening eyes that bore so much hatred. Harper pointed a pistol at his heart.

  It had been a trap, and Brett had fallen into it. “I don’t think you’re going to stop me from taking back my woman.”

  “Your filthy squaw, you mean. She ain’t nothing but a lazy, stinkin’ whore.” Harper held a jug of whiskey in his free hand.