Bethany halted and met Brodie’s steady gaze. Inexplicably, her heartbeat was pounding. “Brodie. What’s this all about?”
Frowning, he glanced back toward Lucius who was busy weighing some grains on a scale. Brodie turned to face Bethany again. “Remember those men who followed you last week? The ones you lost in the snowstorm?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who they were?”
Bethany furrowed her brows. “I thought they were just some ruffians.” She grinned at him. “I managed to lose them, though. I threw them off my trail pretty well.” She felt a momentary triumph recalling how she’d lost them.
Brodie looked suddenly serious. “They were working for a man named Shadley.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“He’s taken quite an interest in you.”
Worry tugged at Bethany’s heart. “He has?”
Brodie nodded. “Not just you. He trades horses for a living.”
The knot of worry hardened into a twisting sensation in her middle. “He does?” She tried to maintain a blank expression on her face, but it proved impossible. Brodie’s eyes narrowed as he saw the concern on her features.
“I made it my business to have some words with him.”
“Why did you do that?”
He paused before replying. “Because I’m worried that his interest in you might put you in danger.”
She took a step back and gasped. “That’s nonsense. I told you, I can look after myself.”
“I’d like to believe you,” Brodie murmured. “I really would. But sometimes the odds aren’t in your favor. Like when three riders chase you down in the middle of nowhere.”
Bethany thought about how she’d been pursued last week. Maybe Brodie knew something about that incident.
“I have a suggestion,” Brodie said. “When you go home today, let me come with you. Just in case you’re followed.”
“No!” Bethany tried once again to move past Brodie. This time he gently took hold of her arm. His touch triggered a confusing mixture of delight mingled with the instant indignation which his remark had caused. She didn’t protest about the way he was restraining her. All she did was look slowly down at his hand and then up into his determined gaze.
Brodie released her arm. “I don’t want you getting into trouble, Bethany.”
For some reason she couldn’t understand, in that moment, she liked the sound of her name on his lips. But the rebellion his words had awakened still swept through her body.
“Nothing is going to happen to me, Brodie. You don’t have to worry.”
“But I do worry,” Brodie implored in a low voice. “Let me accompany you.”
Bethany shook her head emphatically. “I can’t let you do that.” She gasped. “I know you’re trying to be helpful, but you don’t understand. I can’t allow you to come with me.”
“Why not?”
Now it was her turn to be lost for words. If she tried to explain her life to him then what would happen? Her existence up in the mountain valley was balanced precariously. Ever since Richard had died she’d done everything she could to avoid putting what he’d built in jeopardy. Once she revealed her secret to Brodie, then where would it all end? She couldn’t do it.
“I have things to buy, Brodie.”
Brodie seemed about to object again, but then he nodded and stood to one side, allowing her to pass. He looked defeated, but she reckoned she’d seen enough evidence of Brodie Cameron to be sure that he wasn’t the kind of man to give up so easily.
For the next ten minutes she purchased what she needed. Outside, as Lucius loaded up her purchases on the packhorse, Brodie strolled slowly up and down the boardwalk in front of the mercantile. He looked like a prowling mountain lion. From time to time he glanced over toward the saloon. She wondered who was in there, and why Brodie looked so worried.
After she took her place on the pinto’s saddle, Brodie came to her. “You’re sure about this,” he murmured.
She smiled reassuringly at him. “I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’ll be fine. Maybe we’ll see each other the next time I come into town.”
His eyes looked suddenly bright. “When will that be?”
“I can’t say.”
She saw his jaw tighten. Her reply had annoyed him again. Eager to get going she dug her heels into the pinto’s sides and, leading the packhorse attached to her mount, she started to make her way up Main Street.
With one glance toward the saloon, she was relieved there was no sign of the three men who’d watched her leave the previous week. Maybe today’s journey would be uneventful, she told herself.
Twisting in her saddle, she saw Brodie crossing the dusty street. As he walked, his gaze was locked on her. She wondered where he was heading.
Picking up her pace, she headed up the trail at a steady canter. She was pleased that, today, there would be no delays in getting home. Every once in a while, for the first hour, she checked her back trail. Bethany sighed every time she saw no sign of any pursuers. Maybe Brodie had been given wrong information, she reflected. But he certainly looked worried. She was sure she’d see him again. Bethany resolved to talk with him at greater length next time.
Pushing on, a couple of hours later, she reached the lower slopes of the mountain. Her spirits lifted as she ran her gaze along the forested slopes all the way up to the timberline. The peaks were still covered in snow. In the valley which was her home, the snow had partially melted and the creek was running higher and faster than usual.
Bethany paused a while to give her horses a rest before the ascent of the mountain. The air was fresh and cold. In the mid-afternoon light, the vibrant, shimmering colors of the forested slopes were so bright that she had to narrow her eyes.
She rested on a rock and listened to the sounds of the forest. The cries of animals and the calls of birds echoed in the air. There was so much raw, natural life here, Bethany reflected. It made her soul sing with delight. She could feel the presence of God in a place like this. This was the world He had made. And she loved it, just as much as Richard had loved it. She and Richard had shared a deep faith in the Lord. And it was here, living in these mountains with her son, Noah, that her faith had strengthened. Now it was more important to her than it had ever been. Her faith had brought her through the dark days after her husband’s passing.
Thinking back to what Brodie had said to her in the mercantile, with all its suggestions of greed and danger, reminded Bethany of everything she wanted to keep out of her life and the life of her son. She drew in a deep breath and gazed appreciatively at the forested slopes and snow-capped peaks. This was where she belonged. Not back there in so-called civilization. She’d been brought here for a purpose. To create a life of truth and faith and love. Bethany was determined she would continue to pursue the life to which God had brought her.
After the horses had been rested Bethany mounted up and started to make her way into the forest. She found the familiar trail. Riding into the cool, softly-lighted interior of the forest, with its scent of the pine and fir trees was welcoming and instantly calmed her spirits.
From time to time she heard the deep growl of a nearby bear. She rode on, unaffected by the sound. Nate had persuaded Bethany that the bears usually didn’t attack anyone unless they were starving, or if they sensed their cubs were in danger. She saw elk and deer making their stately way through the forest, but they paid her no heed. Once, a lone wolf came close to her packhorse, looking ready to pounce. When Bethany removed her rifle from its scabbard the wolf scuttled away into the trees.
These and many other dangers would have made others who were less experienced react with fear. But Bethany had learned how to live in harmony with the life on the mountain. Nate had been a fine teacher. He’d showed her the truth of mountain living. In Bethany’s opinion, with careful choices and knowledge, the mountain was safer than any town or city.
She rode on, keeping a steady pace, making her way up the tra
il until, a short distance below the timberline, she reached a clearing in the trees. A creek ran through the broad, flat expanse of glade which was about a hundreds yards in length. She halted by the creek and picketed the horses giving them a chance to drink and rest. Sitting on a fallen tree trunk, Bethany took the chance to eat some dried fruit and fill her canteen with the icy creek water.
A short while later she was preparing to resume her journey when she heard the last thing she might have expected in such an isolated location.
Human voices.
Bethany froze and rested her hands on the stock of the Henry rifle resting in its scabbard next to her saddle. She listened intently but heard only the soft sighing of the mountain wind.
Her breath halted in her lungs. She was certain she’d heard voices. They’d sounded like men. She peered around the perimeter of the clearing. Nothing moved.
Her heartbeat pounded furiously. This was the first time she’d ever encountered strangers on her return to the valley.
Then, suddenly, the figure of man, roughly dressed in buckskins and wide-brimmed hat, emerged from the trees. Bethany started to pull her rifle free of its scabbard, but the click of a pistol from somewhere close halted her hands.
“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, lady,” the low voice grunted.
Bethany whirled around and saw a second man, dressed similarly to the first. He was pointing a pistol right at her. When he grinned he showed yellow teeth. He looked and smelled like he hadn’t washed since the war.
“Just you step away from the horse,” he said and jerked the pistol to one side. “Nice and slow.”
Bethany heard footsteps thundering across the clearing and then the other man reached her side. He wasn’t so polite. He pushed Bethany with such force that she staggered once and then tumbled to the ground. She landed with a thud, slamming her head against the grass-covered earth. Her ears began to ring as she lifted her head and peered up at the two men.
Bethany’s pinto nickered and then shifted, suddenly agitated, trying to loosen its picket pin as if sensing the danger.
“You didn’t have to go pushing her like that, Tyrell,” the other man complained.
Tyrell, who’d thrown her to the ground, merely chuckled. “She’s tough enough.” When Tyrell squatted down and leered at her, she could almost read his mind. Bethany felt a wave of revulsion sweep through her. “She’s still in one piece. And that’s all that matters, Rufus. I think we can have ourselves some fun.”
“We ain’t here for that,”Rufus objected.
Disappointment creased Tyrell’s brows. He stood and sighed heavily. Then Tyrell looked impatiently down at Bethany. “Where is it?” he murmured.
“Where’s what?” Bethany responded.
Tyrell rolled his eyes and pointed the pistol at Bethany. “You know what we want, lady. It’s simple. You just tell us how to find it, and we promise not to bother you ever again.”
Bethany glanced at Rufus. Unlike moments ago, when he’d tried to protect her, his steady gaze told her he was in agreement with Tyrell. These men weren’t just random ruffians who’d come across her by accident. They had followed her and knew exactly what they wanted from her. Bethany recalled what Brodie had said to her in the mercantile.
“You both work for Shadley,” Bethany murmured.
Rufus frowned. “We don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Rufus was a bad liar and Tyrell already knew that fact. Tyrell scowled at Rufus. Impatience twisted Tyrell’s features. “Lady. If you make this difficult for us, I don’t think you’re going to like what’ll happen.”
That was another threat. Bethany knew that Tyrell would not hesitate to use violence. She rose to her feet and brushed the grass from her coat. Bethany glanced toward her pinto, trying to judge if she would be able to reach her rifle.
“Don’t even think about it,” Tyrell said. He came to her and jabbed the pistol against her side. The metal dug painfully against her ribs. “Just be a good, little woman and tell us where you get the horses.” Now there was a patronizing tone in his voice. This was a man unaccustomed to treating women with even the slightest kindness, Bethany told herself.
Indignation igniting deep inside her, Bethany glared at Tyrell with fury in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she yelled up into his face.
Tyrell’s eyes widened with instant surprise. He seemed genuinely taken aback by the strength of her defiance. His fingers tightened around the handle of his gun. Bethany felt the blood drain from her face. The corners of Tyrell’s mouth creased with a cruel expression of pleasure.
“Tyrell!” Rufus barked.
The wildness in Tyrell’s eyes faded. To Bethany’s relief he regained his composure. His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared like an enraged animal.
Just as Tyrell began to lower his gun, a shot rang out. Earth at Tyrell’s booted feet exploded. As Tyrell leaped back, Rufus exhaled a sharp curse and whipped around, seeking the source of the shot.
Bethany gasped when she saw a rider plunge into view from amongst the trees. The man held his reins in one hand. The other held a pistol which was pointed straight at Rufus and Tyrell.
Instantly, Bethany recognized the rider.
Brodie Cameron.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brodie saw Bethany leap toward her horse seeking safety as another two shots rang out. Bullets slammed into a tree behind Brodie. Tyrell and Rufus threw themselves to the ground, taking cover behind the fallen log.
Onward rode Brodie, his horse’s hooves thundering on the earth. He fired again, and wood splintered from the log, spraying like a cloud of insects around the heads of Bethany’s captors. Luckily Bethany had moved out of the line of fire. But there was still a risk she’d be hit by a stray bullet. He had to finish this quickly.
Brodie’s horse was yards away when it halted suddenly and reared, neighing loudly, its hooves pawing the air. Brodie clung onto the reins and aimed another shot at the two ruffians taking cover behind the fallen log.
Bethany’s pinto, eyes wide with fear as it tried to free itself from the rope she’d used to keep it from wandering off, was pulling hard, eager to be as far as possible from trouble. Brodie knew Bethany had a Henry rifle and saw that it was still in its scabbard.
Brodie saw two pistols edge into view from behind the log. He fired again. The heads and pistols sank down again behind the log.
Striding forward, Bethany seized her rifle, drawing it out of its scabbard. With a single action the rifle was made ready. Rufus and Tyrell froze when they heard the sound of Bethany’s rifle.
“Don’t move!” Bethany called out.
Tyrell uttered some vile words and turned his head. His eyes widened in disbelief. “You ain’t going to fire that rifle,” he stated.
Bethany strode forward and planted her boots in the soft earth. Tyrell twisted his body around and looked up at her. His pistol was coming around. In a moment it would be aimed at her. Beside him, Rufus looked from Tyrell to Brodie, trying desperately to weigh up the situation.
Brodie leaped down from his horse and ran to the log. “We got the draw on you!” Brodie shouted as he aimed his pistol at Rufus.
Bethany jammed the rifle in Tyrell’s direction and glared at him. “You’re covered on both sides, Tyrell,” she said firmly.
Brodie moved to within a couple of feet of Rufus who, after a moment of deliberation, groaned and tossed his gun to one side. Brodie glanced anxiously at Bethany. She looked nervous. He wondered if she’d ever fired that rifle at anyone. The way the blood had drained from her face gave him all the answer he needed. “She’s right, Tyrell. Drop the gun!” Brodie snapped.
Bethany met Tyrell’s furious glare. She aimed the rifle straight at his body.
“I said drop it, Tyrell,” Brodie shouted angrily. “Now!”
Tyrell was a stubborn type, Brodie reflected as he watched him lock will horns with Bethany. It was a battle of wills. He knew there would be only one winner. B
rodie stamped his booted foot on the log near Tyrell’s head. Tyrell glanced up at Brodie, sighed heavily and dropped his gun.
Brodie came around and stood alongside Bethany. “You hurt?” he asked urgently.
“Nothing serious,” Bethany replied.
Brodie scanned Bethany’s features, searching for any signs of injury. She looked shaken. He guessed she wouldn’t tell him about the ordeal she’d been put through by the two men lying on the ground. Brodie felt a sudden anger, thinking that these two had tried to harm Bethany.
Brodie glared at Tyrell and Rufus. “Lucky for you, she ain’t hurt.”
Brodie gathered the men’s guns and threw them out of reach.
“You followed us from town, didn’t you,” Tyrell said lazily. He’d already begun to regain his usual sullen and sour-faced manner. “We should have gunned you down in the saloon when we had the chance.”
Bethany gasped and looked at Brodie. Her eyes were wide with horror. “Is that true?”
“We had words,” Brodie replied. “Nothing more than that. I doubt these two have the guts to face a man down.”
Tyrell guffawed. “You saying Rufus and me are back-shooters?”
“Stand up,” Brodie ordered.
Tyrell and Rufus rose to their feet. “It’s long way back to town,” Tyrell sneered. “If you’re thinking of involving the sheriff, it’ll be the word of me and Rufus against hers.”
Brodie chuckled. “In case you forgot, the sheriff’s name is Cameron. Just like mine.”
Rufus looked disbelievingly at Tyrell who looked back at his partner, stone-faced. Brodie’s words had briefly taken the wind from their sails.
It had been a close call. Brodie had trailed the men from town, certain they meant to cause trouble. Finally arriving at the mountainside, Brodie had reached the clearing to see Tyrell standing over a clearly frightened Bethany. There had been evil intent in the attitude of both men, especially Tyrell. But Brodie had not seen either man actually do anything to harm Bethany. He believed they had scared her, and he knew she must have been thrown to the ground. Proving any of that to the sheriff would be hard, particularly if Bethany wasn’t around to press charges. He knew she wasn’t going to come into town to do anything like that. Knowing Bethany, she’d want to put the incident behind her.
Montana Mountain Valley Bride (Western Romance) Page 5
