by Ann Mayburn
Edward rose from the bed and came to stand next to Garret. He kept his voice low as he said, “Tell me about this Mr. Charles.”
She did, and the news was not good. Mr. Charles basically ran the corrupt half of the town, buying those he could, blackmailing those he couldn’t, and ruling over the city’s criminal elements. The maid didn’t know how ‘Roger’ had gotten mixed up with him, but Garret had a fairly good idea and it wasn’t pleasant. Either way, by getting in a fight and wounding Mr. Charles and one of his thugs, they’d painted huge targets on their backs, and Mr. Charles wanted revenge.
Bustling around the dinner cart, the maid glanced over at the sleeping mystery woman and said, “I know it’s none of my business, but if I were you, I’d get out of town and on the road as quickly as possible. I’d like to say you’re safe here, but Mr. Charles has eyes and ears all over town. Some of the staff would be tempted by the money he’s offering to find you.”
Reaching into his pocket, Garret took out a few bills and handed them to the protesting maid, “No, please, take it. If what you’ve told us is true, you may have just saved our lives. If anyone asks, just tell them we’re two ranchers from Idaho in town to do some business.”
The maid slipped the carefully folded bills into her pocket with a quick nod. “If anyone asks, I’ll be sure to tell them that. Now if you’ll excuse me, sirs, I need to get back to my duties before the head housekeeper starts to wonder where I am.”
With the dishes rattlingly lightly on the wheeled serving cart, the maid left and only the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth filled the quiet air.
“Well,” Edward finally said, “this complicates things.”
“If what the maid said was true, and I have no reason to doubt her, we don’t have the luxury of waiting a few days for our mystery guest to get stronger. We’ll have to do the best we can to make her comfortable in the back of the wagon, and try and put some distance between ourselves and Mr. Charles. Once we get to Bridgewater, we’ll be safe.”
“The sooner the better,” Edward agreed. “I don’t think Mr. Charles got a good look at us in the alley. It was too dark, but eventually he will find us, and I’d rather not face him and his army of thugs with just the two of us.”
“If we leave in the middle of the night, it will seem suspicious. We’ll stick out on the roads leading out of town like a sore thumb with our wagon. Better to leave in the morning and not draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves after we get some supplies for ‘Roger.’”
“I’ll be glad when she wakes up,” Edward said as he looked over his shoulder at her, “so we can learn her real name.”
“And how she got mixed up with Mr. Charles,” Garret said while he began to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to try and get some sleep.”
Edward placed a chair underneath the door handle with a grim look. “I doubt Mr. Charles would be brazen enough to try and attack us here, in this nice hotel in the good part of town, but you never know.”
“Good call.”
Anticipation and an urge to get on the road tried to stir in Garret’s mind, but he tamped those thoughts down. One of the things the military had taught him was to focus on his goals. Right now, his main goal was getting the battered young woman home and safe.
The chair creaked in protest as it took Edward’s weight, but quieted while Edward opened one of the books he’d bought with him. He began to read to her, his tone gentler than Garret had ever heard it. Garret paused in the doorway of the adjoining room, watching his best friend and hopefully soon to be bride. A sense of rightness, of certainty that they were doing the right thing filled him. Edward’s dark hair fell into his face, but he brushed it back with an absent gesture as he continued to read, his voice deep and gravely, but also oddly soothing. His best friend had spent a lot of time with the poets and scholars of Lady Uriel’s court, and had picked up the way they added a subtle cadence to their words.
Leaving the battered golden beauty with the man he trusted with his own life, Garret slipped through the doorway and went to bed.
3
ROWAN
* * *
The way the ground rocked beneath her was what finally made Rowan open her dry and crusty feeling eyes. Her head still swam a bit as she blinked, trying to clear her vision. At first, all she saw was creamy white, almost glowing as sunlight shone through it. Then her mind and vision cleared further, and she noticed the bent wood holding the canvas in place, and the distinct smell of…sheep.
Confused, she turned her head to the right and saw a packing box from an unfamiliar feed and supply shop. Turning the other way, she found herself staring at a sleeping giant. A handsome sleeping giant, but a giant nonetheless. Her heart gave a painful slam as she scrambled up, then she hit the top of her head on another box. The giant must have sensed her movement because his dark eyes opened and focused on her. Then, weirdest of all, he smiled. A kind, warm, wonderful smile that turned him from an intimidating mountain of a man to someone who was almost…boyish despite the heavy dark brown stubble on his chin and cheeks.
When he reached out to her, she tried to scream, but her dry throat closed up on her. She bent over, coughing and struggling to breathe.
“Here,” a velvety deep voice said as a canteen was thrust in her face. “Drink.”
Cool, slightly metallic tasting water soothed her parched lips, and she took some hefty gulps until her stomach lurched in protest.
Clutching the canteen to her as if it could somehow save her from the situation she found herself in, she tried to push back against the boxes, but there was nowhere to go in the small, cramped space. “Who are you? What are you doing? Are you kidnapping me?”
The big man held up his hands, each big enough to crush her head. “Nay, lass. We mean you no harm. We’re taking you back to our home in Bridgewater.”
“Bridgewater?” her mind snagged on that word. “I know that place…why do I know that place?”
The wagon began to slow as the canvas separating the driver from the bed of the wagon flipped open.
“Hey,” Garret said, looking down with a smile. His blond hair and stubble gleamed in the bright morning light. “How are you feeling?”
She stared at him, flabbergasted. “How am I feeling? What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You kidnapped me!”
Garret frowned at her, his brown duster clinging to his broad shoulders as he turned so he could give her a look that was intimidating enough that she sat there, mute. “We didn’t kidnap you, we rescued you. Should I have let those thugs beat you to death in the alley? Just abandon you to your fate?”
Memories came crashing down on her as she clutched a shaking hand to the blanket wrapped around her. “No. No, thank you for saving me. I’m sorry, I’m just very confused.”
Garret’s frown melted away, his blue eyes going warm with compassion as he said, “Aye, you had a hard knock on your head, lass. Just give yourself a moment to get your bearings.”
The big man across from her held out one large hand, “My name is Edward Huxley. You already know Garret. I’m assuming your name isn’t really Roger.”
“Rowan Larsen, pleasure to meet you,” she added automatically as she politely shook his hand, her mind feeling oddly fuzzy.
She swayed forward as the wagon hit a bump, and the man caught her easily. “Whoa there, wee lass. Don’t need to add anymore bruises to that pretty face.”
“I feel funny,” she mumbled, oddly undisturbed by being held close by this big bear of a man.
“You took a pretty good beating,” Edward’s voice rumbled in her ear as he settled her more comfortably on his lap. “And we gave you a dose of the doctor’s medicine not too long ago. It might make you feel a little light in the head.”
She should be protesting, fighting to get away and feeling panicked, but all she felt was a sense of peace that settled right into her soul. “Where are we going again?”
“Back to Bridgewater,” Garret said from the jockey
box.
“Oh, right.” A bolt of alarm raced across her dulled senses. “No, I have to wait for my brother.”
Garret held up a leather gloved hand. “Easy, now. Don’t worry, we left word with the doctor and the sheriff that we have you and we’re taking you back to Bridgewater. If that brother of yours shows up, he’ll be able to find you.”
“He’ll show up,” she said stubbornly, clinging to her faith in Ted.
“What kind of brother leaves his sister behind?” Edward said with an angry growl.
That roused her from her stupor enough that she managed to shove her way out of his hold. “Ted’s the best brother. He had no choice. If he didn’t get to California in time, he would have lost his offer of employment. I worked for years to help pay for him to learn his trade as a bricklayer. We love each other, and we’re the only family we have. He’ll be back. He just…got waylaid for some reason. He loves me. He wouldn’t abandon me. He wouldn’t. We’re…we’re all we have. He wouldn’t leave me…” She took a deep breath then whispered her fear, “He wouldn’t leave me unless he’s hurt somewhere and can’t make it back.”
By the end of her raving words, she was crying, and the wagon had stopped again.
“Hush now, lass,” Edward tried to pull her into his arms, but she swatted him away.
“I…I need some privacy for a moment.” Her cheeks flushed as she stared at the curved ceiling of the wagon. “I need to have a private moment…outside. To relieve myself.”
It was Edward’s turn to blush as Garret held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll take you.”
As they all clambered out of the wagon, she gave a hard shiver when the wool blanket around her shoulders slipped and she caught it, realizing only then that she wore an unfamiliar olive green dress made of a soft, thick cotton. It hung loose on her and the hem reached the ground. A quick mental check confirmed she wore underthings and boots as well. Indignation filled her as she turned on the men with anger heating her blood.
“You undressed me!” she screeched and pointed a finger at them. A bird in a nearby bushy pine tree took flight with a scream of its own.
Holding up his hands, the lines around Garret’s mouth deepened as he squinted into the bright morning light. “Hey, now, easy. We didn’t undress or dress you. The maid at the hotel did. She was the one who washed and helped care for you while you were sleeping off the medicine the doctor gave you.”
The world began to tilt beneath her feet, and Rowan swayed before two sets of strong arms wrapped about her.
Both men wore thick, worn leather dusters that smelled of earth and some subtle cologne that each man favored. It had been a long time since she’d been outside of the stink of the city, and she took a deep breath, enjoying the cool air scented with them. Her thoughts had taken on that drifty feeling again, and now that she knew they hadn’t taken liberties with her, she was once again feeling better.
Or maybe it was just the doctor’s medicine.
Either way, she didn’t fight them as they led her over to a large tree and remained a discrete distance away as she took care of business.
While she was walked back, she paused for a moment behind a sizeable tree trunk, the leaves above long gone and the branches reaching up towards a darkening sky.
Of course the first man her gaze was drawn to was Edward, by his sheer size alone. Not that Garret was a small man, but Edward was a beast. Not overly tall, but thick with muscle like a bull. Garret was leaner, like a panther, and he moved with a self-assured grace that drew any woman’s gaze. He was more classically handsome of the pair, with an aristocratic set to his features that seemed to exude confidence. Beyond them, a four-team wagon of beautiful roan and piebald horses snorted and stamped their hooves as they nibbled at whatever dry winter grass they could reach on the road.
For a brief moment, she considered running, but quickly realized the futility. She had no idea where she was, no gear, and she certainly wasn’t prepared to survive winter in the mountains. Also, she had to admit, so far the men had given her no reason to fear them. If anything, she owed them her life—quite literally. Many would have seen some boy being beaten and just kept on walking. And there were many others who would have chased Mr. Charles off, but still left her to fend for herself. Edward and Garret had not only chased Mr. Charles off, they offered her a chance at not just surviving, but living.
They could just want her for…other reasons, but that didn’t make sense either. They were both good looking, obviously wealthy by the quality of their clothing and wagon, and intelligent. Young, pretty women in their hometown must be beating their door down, hoping to win their favor. Why would they want a sick, skinny woman with a big nose and no dowry or penny to her name? They wouldn’t. They were probably bringing her back to offer her work as their maid or to help out on the ranch, as Garret had first offered.
Why did that thought make her sad instead of relieved?
“Rowan, lass, are you all right?” Edward boomed, and she stumbled out from behind the tree with a guilty blush heating her cold cheeks.
“I’m fine,” she yelled back, then braced her hand against the tree as she coughed, her ribs hurting from where she’d been kicked.
She whimpered, trying to hold back a cry as her ribs gave a hard ache.
Big male hands were supporting her a moment later, and she found herself swung up into a familiar pair of brawny arms again.
“Easy,” Garret said as he cradled her close. “It’s going to take a few days to get back on your feet.”
Resting her head against his chest, she said, “You carry me a lot.”
“I supposed I do.” Edward chuckled.
“I’m a decent woman,” she protested as he handed her off to a smiling Garrett. “You shouldn’t be handling me like this. It’s improper.”
“Yes,” Garret said in a dry voice as put his hands beneath her armpits and lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather. “I’m sure the birds are scandalized by your behavior.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she panted as she tried to wrestle her blanket, which had gotten some dead pine needles on it, back over her shoulders. “I don’t know what kind of women you’re used to, but we don’t like being manhandled.”
“Would you rather we let you fall in your face in the mud?” came Edward’s deep, amused voice from behind her.
She would have given Edward a glare, but her stomach picked that moment to make a loud rumble.
Both men laughed, but Garret gave her shoulder a soothing rub. “Come on, my snarly little tigress. Once we get you settled in, we’ll feed you.”
It took some maneuvering, but they managed to get her tucked back into the little nest they’d made for her in the back of the wagon. This time, Garret remained with her while Edward drove the team. Uncomfortable and in pain, she didn’t even fight it when Garret sat right next to her so they were shoulder to shoulder, and thigh to thigh. He helped arrange the blankets around her, and she was too focused on the smell of food to object when he wrapped himself right up next to her.
“Here, you go. Slowly,” Edward turned around on the seat above them and handed Garret two paper wrapped bundles. “Don’t eat it too fast.”
She took one of the packages with a shaking hand. “Don’t worry, I know not to eat too much at once after a long time of not having enough to eat. If I overindulge, I’ll just throw it up.”
The men were quiet for a moment as she opened her bundle and discovered a chicken leg, some bread, and another smaller, paper wrapped object. Her stomach practically howled at the sight of food. As she took her first bite of chicken, all rational thought was gone. It took every ounce of her willpower, but she managed to keep from shoving the food into her mouth like an animal…mainly because Edward and Garrett were staring at her.
“What?” she said around a mouthful of delicious bread.
“You’ve been starving before?” Garrett asked as he finally began to eat his own meal. The wagon rocked as Edward l
et out a whistle that got the team of horses moving.
“A few times. After my father died of tuberculosis when I was ten, it was really hard for my mother to find work. We had to sell most of our possessions and move to a part of Chicago that wasn’t nearly as nice as where we’d been.” She took a sip of water from the canteen Edward offered her before continuing. “It was a hard winter that year. Tuberculosis swept through the city, and the snow fell in endless amounts. Everyone in our building was struggling to get by. If it wasn’t for our neighbor letting us sleep on the floor in front of his stove, we might not have made it. Thankfully, my neighbor was able to get both myself and my mother jobs mill.”
“You would have been eleven at the time?” Garret asked in a soft voice as he stared out into the wilderness.
“Yes” she said as she licked her fingers clean of the chicken grease. “My mother and I worked opposite shifts, so someone could always be home with Ted.”
“Why wasn’t he working?” Edward asked from the front seat.
“Because my mother wanted him to take up a trade. She knew that, in a few years, after Ted completed his apprenticeship with the bricklayers, he would make enough money to support the family on his own. That’s what he’s going to be doing out in California. A childhood friend of ours moved out there a few years ago, and he sent Ted a telegram offering him a job in San Francisco. It’s going to be so amazing. Ted will be making a respectable amount of money, and I’ll have a chance to find a job that I like, and maybe a good husband. After all, I’m twenty-four, practically an old maid.”
The men went silent again, but she caught them exchanging weighted looks as if they were having a private conversation with each other.
“So,” she said, setting aside the empty paper then letting out a sigh of pleasure at the feeling of a full belly, “Care to tell me where we are? And what your plans are for me in Bridgewater? I will inform you right now, I won’t be any man’s mistress, so if those are the kinds of thoughts that are going through your head, you can just leave me at the next town.”
