by Sarah Hegger
Also if he would let go of her hair, that would be lovely. The yanking on her hair roots was cranking her headache up.
“Huh.” He dropped her so suddenly she almost slammed her face into the mule’s side.
He walked around to the other side of the mule, grabbed her by the waistband and hauled her off the mule.
Ellie’s tied ankles gave, and she fell, the hard earth bruising her bottom, but at least she was upright again. And sitting in the middle of nowhere. The only signs of life were her abductor and two mules. No, three mules, there was another animal laden down with packs behind hers. The air was still fresh and the shadows long, so it must be morning. She had no notion of where the night before had disappeared.
“You gonna puke?” He pushed his hairy face in front of hers.
Was she? Her stomach felt much better now. “Could I have a sip of water, please?”
“Only water I got is for the animals. They need it coz they’re working.”
“Please?” She’d get on her knees if she had to.
Huffing, he stomped over to his mule and grabbed a water skin that didn’t look like it was for the animals. He yanked out the top and handed it to her.
Ellie stared at the water skin helplessly and shrugged.
With a growl, he stomped behind her and tugged at her wrists. Her hands came free in a rush of blood and tingling. When she could feel her fingertips, she took the waterskin from him and wiped the mouth.
Mindful of her belly, Ellie took a careful sip and then another.
“That’s enough.” He yanked the water skin away from her and jerked his chin at her mule. “You gonna git up there and gimme no trouble?”
“I am.” Anything beat her former mode of transport. Ellie struggled to her feet. “Can you untie my feet?”
He looked at her feet and the mule and screwed up his face. “I reckon I can at that.”
Unsheathing a massive knife from his belt, he hacked through the rope at her ankles.
Tears popped into Ellie’s eyes as sensation prickled back into her legs. She staggered to the mule and hauled herself up. Not giving him a chance to change his mind or bind any part of her again. “I won’t give you any trouble,” she said. “I don’t even know where I am. So even if I did run, I wouldn’t know where.”
Grunting, he scowled at her for a minute before stomping back to his mule and mounting. “You run, I’ll kill ya.” He wheezed out a laugh. “Wouldn’t be nobody to see it but me and the buzzards.”
“I won’t run.” For now. Ellie got the mule moving. She guessed they were moving south east, which didn’t really help her because she had no idea if they had come straight from Silver Creek or whether they’d been moving in circles. She also had no idea how long they’d been traveling. Still, she tried to take careful note of the landscape around her.
She cursed her stupidity for setting out on her own, and as the afternoon wore into evening, and her bottom ached more, she cursed Jake for being the reason she’d run in the first place.
Cole would be in Denver by now, getting on with his life. At least she could rest easy in the knowledge she wouldn’t cause him any more trouble.
Chapter Twelve
Cole had never seen a woman who could draw stupid out of near enough everyone. They had a couple of hours to kill before their train this morning and he’d taken Bridget to the general store to get her a couple of readymade dresses.
The pink floral thing Bridget had on now delighted her. Standing in front of the mirror, she beamed at her reflection and swished it this way and that. He already knew, sweet as she was, Bridget was not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but as for the rest of them…he shook his head.
The general store owner sat behind the serving counter and stared like he’d seen God. His wife was no better, giving Bridget free candy and a bonnet. Even the morning’s customers had stopped their shopping and stared at the beautiful girl admiring her dress.
Because that was the damnedest thing about Bridget. As breathtaking as she was, she wasn’t even looking at herself. It was the dress she was loving on.
“We’ll take that one and anything else you have in her size.” Cole had to rap his knuckles on the counter to get the storekeeper to look at him.
Beneath his unkempt iron brows, the man stared at him. “What did you say you was to her?”
“Cousin.” He dropped a handful of eagles on the counter and Bridget was momentarily forgotten. “Add whatever else she’ll need for the journey into that valise you have behind you.”
The shopkeeper’s wife was tenderly placing a bonnet on Bridget’s head.
“Give me a bag of those candies as well.” Cole pointed to a jar of brightly colored sweets. Bridget, he was learning, would do almost anything for sugar. The thought made him shudder.
The shopkeeper bundled up everything Bridget would need for a journey, and Cole pried her away from her loving audience.
“You take care now.” The shopkeeper’s wife got teary eyed. “You’re a good girl and you remember that.”
“I will.” Bridget twinkled at the woman. “Thank you ever so much for helping me. I’ve never had such a pretty dress before.”
“And I’ve never dressed anyone so pretty before.” The woman patted Bridget’s cheeks. “That skin.” She snatched her hands back. “Like silk.”
Cole gripped Bridget’s elbow and hustled her toward the door. “Come along, cuz. We’ve a train to catch.”
He kept them to a brisk pace on the walk to the train station. The candies were a savior and she marched by his side contentedly munching and looking about her, wide eyed as if she was seeing everything for the first time.
The station was busier than it had been yesterday, and Cole swore. Already heads had turned their way and gazes were locked on Bridget. He should have gotten her a bonnet with a veil on it or something.
For her part, Bridget was happily sorting through her candies and eating all the red ones first.
The train was already in, and Cole led her to their first-class cabin and sat her down. He wanted to find the conductor and confirm Ellie had been on this train yesterday. Last night he’d lain awake thinking about where she might have gone, and the only conclusion he could reach was that she’d gone to San Francisco to find Theo on her own. When Cole caught up with her, he intended to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, but he had to catch her first.
He put Bridget in her seat. “You need to stay here.”
“All right.” Bridget beamed at him. Eyes that blue really didn’t belong on this earth. “I won’t move.”
“Not even if you see something you really want to look closer at.” An unfortunate incident the night before with a three-legged dog and some drunk cowboys had nearly ended in his first gunfight in years. “And especially don’t go anywhere with anyone who offers to give you something.”
She blinked at him. “Like what?”
“Like anything.” Dear Lord, the mind went all kinds of places.
Bridget chewed on her puffy bottom lip. “But what if it’s something I really, really want.”
“Then you make a note of it, and you tell me, and I’ll buy it for you.”
“Make a note?” Bridget frowned, and Cole swore the sun must have dipped below the horizon. “I can’t write.”
“Then you take a picture with your mind so you can tell me when you next see me.”
A young man dressed in a stiff suit with his hair slicked back stepped into their carriage. He caught sight of Bridget and stopped moving. Owlishly he blinked at her.
“Get on with you.” A tiny woman dressed all in black poked the smitten man in the back. “Stopping in the middle of the way like a fool.”
The man jumped and stepped aside. “Sorry, Nana.”
“What has you all—” The woman’s beady black eyes locked on Bridget. “Ah. Now I see.”
And Cole saw an opportunity.
“Excuse me, madam” Older women loved him. He threw her his m
ost charming smile. The sort of smile that said he had a problem and she was the only woman on earth to help him. “Might I have a word?”
“Who are you?” She locked her harsh gaze on him and swept him from head to toe.
“Cole.” He bowed. “Cole Mansfield.”
“Cole Whisky Mansfield.” The young man turned his big eyes to Cole.
Nana sniffed. “Sounds like a no-good gunslinger name to me.”
“I don’t go by that anymore.” He did his best to look repentant. “I had a colorful youth.”
“Huh.” She waved her parasol at him. “We don’t have time for your kind. Out my way.”
“For certain.” He stepped aside. “Only I have an urgent question for the conductor and I’m reluctant to leave my young niece without a chaperon.” He leaned closer and whispered, “She’s very young and easily influenced.”
“Light skirt, is she?” Nana glared at Bridget.
“Nothing like that.” Cole added a touch of admonishment to his tone. “But you can see how it is.”
Nana looked at her grandson, who was staring at Bridget, who was staring out the window and eating candy.
“Would you keep an eye on her until I get back?” He threw in all the charm he could muster. “I hate to impose, but I am in a dreadful bind here.”
“She doesn’t look like your niece.” Nana was not going to give over easily.
Bridget turned their way. “Not so much.” She smiled. “But a little around the mouth and shape of our faces.” She batted her lashes at Nana. “I look like my mother.”
“Where is your mother?” Even Nana couldn’t hold out against a full frontal Bridget assault.
Bridget’s lips trembled. “She died. But I was very young, so I don’t really remember her.”
“My sister.” Cole dropped his gaze to his boots and gave a manly throat clearing. “A little older than I. Really more of a mother to me than a sister.”
Nana melted like fall mist. “I’ll keep my eye on her. My grandson can keep her company.”
“Thank you.” Cole bowed over her hand and hurried out of the carriage before grandson got himself smitten enough to annoy Nana.
He found the conductor enjoying a cup of coffee with the stationmaster from yesterday.
“You again.” The stationmaster grunted. “What you done with your cousin?”
“She’s on the train.” He dropped a half eagle on the table. “But I’m still looking for my sister.”
“Told you I ain’t seen her since she boarded the train for Denver.” The stationmaster locked on the coin.
Cole pushed it toward him and put another on the table. “The same train I’m now on. I wanted to make sure she was on the train.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” The stationmaster bristled.
Cole tucked his jacket behind his gun. “I’m not calling anyone anything, but I need to find my sister.”
“I told you, she bought a ticket to Denver, where else would she go?”
“I don’t know.” Cole switched his attention to the conductor. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
“There were a lot of people on the train.” The conductor eyed the coin and grimaced. “How would I remember one in particular?”
“You’d remember this one.” Cole added a second half eagle. “Small, black hair, brown eyes. A smile that goes on for days.”
The conductor started. “The whore?”
Damn! It looked like he’d found Ellie.
“You said she weren’t no whore, and she was your sister.” The stationmaster glared at him. “What about that sweet thing you got with you now, fella?”
“My cousin is on the train.” Cole pushed the coins at the conductor. “And what I said to you yesterday is true. The woman I’m looking for is my sister.”
“That’s not what I heard.” The conductor snatched up the coins. “She caused such a disturbance I had to put her off the train.” He glared at Cole. “If you’re fixin’ to create a ruckus like she did, I’m gonna put you off the train right here.”
“My sister is not a whore.” Cole gave the man a frigid stare. He wasn’t Joy Mansfield, society grand dame’s son for nothing. He’d grown up watching that stare, even been on the receiving end of it a time or two. “And I am quite certain any ruckus created was not done by her.”
He palmed an eagle.
The conductor frowned. “Now that I think on it. It weren’t none of her doing. She was sitting there and some range tough starts asking her how much.”
A cold, hard rage tightened his belly. “What happened?”
He flipped the eagle through his fingers.
“Had to put her off the train.” The conductor watched the coin. “Not that I wanted to, mind, but the other lady on the train was getting herself all bothered.”
“Where?”
“Where what?” The conductor’s gaze bounced with the coin.
Cole suppressed the urge to hit the man. “Where did you put her off the train?”
“Small town about halfway to Denver called Silver Creek.”
“Are we going to Silver Creek now?”
“We go past it.” The conductor leaned forward. “But we don’t stop.”
“We’ll stop there today.” Cole set the coin spinning on the table. “Won’t we?”
The conductor slapped his palm over the spinning coin. “We sure will.”
Chapter Thirteen
Women were trouble, and Cole was rapidly reaching the point where he needed to punch something.
“When we find Ellie, do you think we could buy a cow?” Bridget giggled. “Or a goat. I really like goats.”
He’d buy her the moon if she’d shut the hell up.
“We had a goat when I was little. I was scared of him, because he could eat—”
Cole refused to listen to any more of the stream of drivel coming out of Bridget’s mouth. The girl was sweet enough, but nothing happened between her brain and her mouth. She thought it, she said it, and that was that.
Trudging through Silver Creek with Bridget on his heels, chattering away like she never took a breath, he was seriously evaluating the impulsive decisions that had landed him here.
It all started with Sugar Ellie and her big eyes and wicked smile. If it hadn’t been for Ellie arriving at his hotel room door with her story—had it really only been a handful of days since Rattler’s Gulch?—he would already be in Denver right now, sitting with a huge whisky in his hand as he divested the last of his properties and businesses this side of the country.
He’d only planned to visit Rattler’s Gulch for a day or two, say his goodbyes to that part of his sorry life, and then it was back to New York City for him. He hadn’t set foot in the place in over twelve years. Twelve years in which he’d had plenty of time to regret the stupidity that had gotten his ass on a train and sent out west.
He stopped at the one boarding house in town.
Bridget almost ran into his heels. “Is Ellie here?”
She’d taken to speaking about Ellie like they were best friends.
“Maybe.” Cole opened the neat wooden gate. “I want to go in and see if they’ve seen her.”
He didn’t want to jinx it by saying, but he would dearly love to open that door and find Ellie sitting in the front parlor sipping a cup of tea. Although she didn’t strike him as the tea drinking type. Then again, she hadn’t struck him as the virginal type either.
“Can I help you?” A stout middle-aged woman wearing a bright white starched apron opened the door to their knock. She took him in and then Bridget. “This is a respectable house.”
“And my niece and I are respectable folk.” Cole gave her his most winning smile.
She eyed him askance.
Yeah, it wasn’t much in the way of a winning smile. “Actually, we’re looking for a relative of ours.”
“Your sister, I presume.” The matron pursed her lips.
“Actually, yes.” Bridget stepped forward. “Well, she’s
my aunt and not my sister.” She gave a tremulous sigh. “She couldn’t be my sister, could she? Not with Cole being my uncle and Ellie being his sister.” She took a breath and peered around the matron into the house. “You have pretty flowers on your walkway. I hope you don’t have a goat because it would eat them.”
“Eh?” The woman threw him a desperate glance. “No, that is, I don’t think so.”
“There was a misunderstanding on the train my sister was traveling on.” Cole took the gap while the woman was still reeling from the combination of Bridget’s beauty and her unintelligible statements. “She was put off the train here, and I’m desperately trying to find her. It’s not safe for a lady all—”
“The whore!” The woman puffed up like a gobbler. “You’re talking about that whore, and she isn’t your sister.” Her scathing glance swept over Bridget. “And I’ll eat my best bonnet before I believe this one is your niece.”
Bridget’s eyes filled with tears. “Ellie is not a whore.”
“That’s the one.” The woman flapped her hands at them. “Now you get before I call Shorty to deal with you.” She eased the door closed. “I don’t want none of you here. Not that fancy whore standing here bold as brass yesterday and not you either.”
Cole stared at the shut door and breathed deep. The desire to get out his gun and shoot the fucking thing open again almost got the better of him. He’d had a gut load of rude, judgmental people and he’d like to teach them a bit of Christian charity by sending them to meet Jesus face to face.
“Oh, dear.” Bridget sighed and touched his arm. “Never mind. She’s probably angry because she doesn’t have a goat, and at least we know Ellie was here now.”
“We do?” God, he’d been so mad he’d almost missed the most important detail. “We do.” He turned and made it halfway down the path before he couldn’t resist any longer.
He strode back to the door and hammered on it. “Lady! You open this door, or I’ll shoot it open.”
“No.” The woman squealed and cracked the door an inch. “I’ve got a rifle.”
