The Bride Series (Omnibus Edition)

by Bittner, Rosanne

  It was late afternoon when the sun caught a rifle barrel in the hills and caused a flash that Josh caught out of the corner of his eye. “Orv,” he called out quietly.

  “I seen it. Let’s just keep goin’. I reckon’ Cap seen it, too.”

  Josh kept his eye out for any more movement as they traveled on, making camp along the riverbank for the night. Cap and Orville made a fire and cooked the meal.

  “Marybeth ain’t feelin’ too good,” Cap told Orville, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “She’s stayin’ in the wagon with the babies tonight. Danny’s already fell asleep.”

  Orville nodded. “She’d better try to eat.”

  Cap shook his head in seeming sorrow. “I ain’t been able to get her to eat enough to keep a bird alive, ever since she found out about Josh. I feel so sorry for her, but I don’t know how to help her.”

  “It’s a real shame, that’s what—her with them new babies and all.”

  They turned their talk to general trail talk. Cap mentioned he hoped to join up with some supply trains headed east so Marybeth would be safer. “I don’t like travelin’ alone like this.”

  Both men ate, all the while keeping their eyes and ears open for odd sounds and sights. Night settled in, and they set up their bedrolls. Josh waited inside, gun in hand. They had all seen the glint of the rifle barrel. None of them doubted this was the night John MacKinder would make his move.

  Wolves howled in the distance, and he thought about their journey west, all the hardships they had endured to stay alive and be together. Marybeth had put up with the MacKinders long enough. It was time for the hell to be over and the happiness to begin.

  After nearly two hours Josh heard a horse whinney, and immediately his thoughts left him. He straightened, his hand clasping the six-gun. His ears strained to hear a faint rustling sound outside, and he waited for the right time and the right move.

  “All right, up with you—both of you!” It was John MacKinder’s voice.

  “What the hell?” Orville jumped up. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Name’s John MacKinder,” John said proudly. “Walk into the firelight and away from your guns. Come on, now. Get up Cap. Remember me, you old buzzard? Thought I was dead, didn’t you?”

  Cap rubbed his eyes and stood up. “What the hell are you doing here, MacKinder?”

  “I’ve still got friends left, no thanks to you. And one of them told me Marybeth was going back east. But this is as far as she goes, Cap. She’s coming with me. And you…I ought to shoot you for what you did to me! In fact, I intend to. I just want Marybeth out here first. I want her to see what happens to people who try to keep her from me!”

  “You already showed her that when you shot Josh Rivers. You did it, didn’t you? Marybeth said you even killed your own brother, back in New York.”

  John grinned. “Sure I did. I killed both of them, and now there’s nobody left to come between me and Marybeth.” He held his rifle steadily on both men. “Once a man starts killing, Cap, it gets easier, just like it’s going to be easy to kill you. People will think it was outlaws or Indians, and they rode off with the woman.”

  Orville backed away as though frightened. “Look, Mister, I don’t even know you! Let me go. I won’t say anything.”

  “Sure you won’t. You stay right where you are. Marybeth! Get out here,” John shouted then. “I know you’re in there! You can’t run away from me, woman, you should know that. Get Danny and get out here.”

  Josh made a whimpering sound.

  “I mean it! Get out here or I’ll come in there and kill those damn Rivers babies like a couple of weak pups in a litter.”

  Josh opened the back canvas, keeping his head down and making whimpering sounds as he climbed out. The minute his feet hit the ground, he raised his head and his six-gun, cocking it and aiming it at John. “Put down that rifle, MacKinder.”

  John stood frozen in place for a moment. He backed up slightly, turning to look at the tall figure in the dress. The voice sounded familiar, and John’s blood ran cold when he realized whose it was. “Josh Rivers,” he almost gasped.

  “That’s right; and I’m not too happy about the hell you put me through the last few months, MacKinder. You’re going to hang for it. You’ve bragged in front of too many people about trying to kill me—and about killing your brother.”

  John kept hold of his rifle, standing still, trying to think. “How…did Bill do this?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I just wanted to get you away from Marybeth first, and I wanted to hear you say with your own mouth that you shot me and killed your brother. Now drop that rifle. It wouldn’t take more than a breath for me to pull this trigger, after what you did to me! There’s nothing I want more right now than to open a hole in that head of yours! I’m just not the murderer you are!”

  For a moment there was only the sound of crickets, and John’s heavy breathing as he stood there undecided. If he gave up now, Josh Rivers would have defeated him again, Rivers and Marybeth both!

  “You better do like he says,” Cap told the man. “A man’s got to pay his dues, MacKinder.”

  “No!” John suddenly roared the word, whirling with the rifle. Josh’s gun went off and John felt a horrible sting at the side of his head as he turned. He fired his rifle and heard Josh cry out. By then Cap and Orv had both ducked out of the firelight. John fired into the darkness. Someone fired back at him, and he cried out at pain in his right thigh. As he turned and limped into the brush, he heard someone following.

  Josh ripped off the skirt and blouse as he kept his eyes rivited on the big dark figure that ran into the wild brush along the riverbank, lit up by a bright, full moon.

  “Josh, don’t go after him alone,” he heard Cap yelling.

  He was not about to lose sight of John. He cursed himself for being stupid enough to want to do this by the law. Men like John MacKinder didn’t understand or deserve justice. He grimaced at the pain in his left shoulder, remembering the burning agony of a bullet wound all too well.

  He saw John jump down over the riverbank, and he watched quietly, noticing the man did not go out along the river. He was apparently crouched in the brush just under him. Josh pulled a knife from his boot and quickly slashed at the strings of the camisole, throwing it off along with the material stuffed into it. He could feel the blood trickling under his own shirt which he had worn under the camisole. He shoved the knife back into its sheath and picked up his gun, keeping his eyes on the riverbank. There still was no sign of John MacKinder.

  “Come on out of there, John,” he yelled. “I know I hit you. Give it up!”

  John leaped out of his shelter and began firing wildly in the direction of Josh’s voice. Josh ducked aside, rolling behind the trunk of a big fir tree. He fired twice more, hitting John again. The way he spun around, Josh guessed it was in the upper left chest. His emotions were mixed as the man dropped, then got to his knees, then his feet again. John MacKinder was not going to go down easily. In one sense Josh enjoyed the realization that the man was suffering; yet he didn’t like shooting any man over and over. Again he asked him to give up. Again John fired at him.

  “Josh, where the hell are you?” He heard Cap running through the brush.

  “Stay back there, Cap. It’s all right!”

  John fired at him again and Josh fired back, and again John went down. Josh had one shot left in his gun. He watched John for several seconds. This time he did not move.

  “Josh!”

  “I’m all right, Cap.” He moved carefully down the riverbank, keeping his eyes on John MacKinder. It seemed a shame that a man—any man—would have thrown his life away as MacKinder had. He slowly approached him. John lay on his side. Suddenly he curled up. Josh stayed back. “We’ll get you some help, John.”

  The man coughed. “MacKinders…don’t take…help.” He coughed again. “You…stole her…stole her.”

  “I didn’t steal anyone. I love her and she loves me. You’ve created all your own
problems, MacKinder.”

  “She…belonged…to me—Danny…belonged to me. I was…the right one. You…damn you…damn you!” He turned, pointing the rifle at Josh. Josh jumped sideways as the rifle went off, and he fired his own last bullet. As if by design, it struck John MacKinder in the head. Even then the man sat staring at him for a moment, looking as though he might actually get up and shoot again. Finally he slumped back, stiffening, his eyes staring. There was a moment of quiet, with just the sound of the flowing river and an owl hooting somewhere nearby.

  “So, it’s finally done,” Josh muttered. “I suppose it was leading to this all along, wasn’t it, MacKinder?” He had no feelings of victory or vengeance; he only felt an odd sadness, mingled with tremendous relief.

  “Josh! Goddamn it, where are you?”

  Josh turned and called up to Cap. “Down here.”

  The man came crashing down the riverbank. “Jesus, I must have heard ten shots at least. You all right?” He stopped near John’s body. He and Josh looked at each other in the moonlight. “He dead, Josh?”

  Josh sighed. “It took four hits. The poor bastard wouldn’t stay down. Kept turning and firing at me again.”

  Cap put a hand to the dark stain on Josh’s shirt. “Damn it, you’ve been hit yourself. This is the last thing you needed.”

  “I think it went clean through, up by my neck. It’s a far cry from being gut-shot. I’ll be all right.”

  “You come up to the campsite and let me fix you up. Marybeth is gonna be real upset about this.”

  “She’ll be more upset about John being dead. I hate to tell her, Cap.”

  “Did you really think she didn’t expect this? We all knew you’d never bring him back alive. John MacKinder wouldn’t have accepted that kind of defeat. We knew it, and so did Marybeth. Now come let me tend to that wound before you stand here and bleed to death. Orv and I will come back and bury him. We’ll mark the grave as an emigrant—died from a shooting accident. There ain’t all that much law out here yet, Josh. No sense stirring up trouble neither you nor Marybeth needs right now. This was a personal thing, and there ain’t a man alive who’d blame you for what’s happened.”

  Josh leaned down and closed John’s eyes. “What about Danny? How can I tell him when he’s older that I killed off his last relative? When he finds out what the MacKinders were like—”

  “Josh.” Cap leaned down and touched his shoulder. “Marybeth said she wanted Danny to grow up to bring pride to the MacKinder name. All that boy ever has to know is that his pa was killed in an accident back in New York, and the rest of the family died on their way out here. There is no reason on God’s Earth to tell him any more than that. If you tell him things that make him proud to be a MacKinder, then he’ll just build on that. Marybeth is proud to be Irish, and she’ll instill that in Danny. It won’t hurt that boy if you lie to him a little about the MacKinders.”

  Josh rose. “I suppose not. But I have to live with it.”

  “You have to live with the fact that you saved Marybeth from a living hell, and made sure Danny wasn’t raised by a man like John. You did right, Josh; you did right. Come on now. Come back to camp with me.”

  Josh turned and followed him back, feeling suddenly weak and spent. He sat down near the fire so Cap could see better, and Orv quickly heated some water.

  “You’ve got to learn to dodge bullets better than this, boy,” Orville told him.

  Josh grinned a little, then winced as he moved his arm back so that Cap could pull off his shirt. His arm and hand and chest were covered with drying blood. “Looks like the bleeding’s slowed,” Cap said. “You’re right. It went clean through. You lucked out this time—just missed your shoulder bones, looks to me like.” Josh grunted with pain as the man felt around the wound, struggling against memories of a lot worse wound and not feeling quite so bad about killing John MacKinder.

  “You think she’ll be all right, Cap? I don’t want her blaming herself for any of this. There’s nobody to blame but MacKinder himself.”

  “She’ll be all right. She’s one strong woman, Josh. Before them babies was born, she was already talkin’ about ways she could provide for her children if you was dead—for all of you if you was crippled. She’s a survivor—a good woman to have out here. What you both need to do is put all this behind you now and get down to the kind of livin’ you planned on out here.” Cap began washing the blood from Josh.

  “Yeah, it is pretty country, isn’t it? I just realized I’ve got to write my sister and tell her I got here all right—tell her about Marybeth. I think I’ll leave out all the bad stuff. No sense worrying her with it. Hell, maybe I can convince her and my brother-in-law and my brother Luke to come out here. They’d love it, and Rachael would love Marybeth. They’re a lot alike in spirit.”

  “Well, I’d sure like to meet any sister of yours.”

  Josh closed his eyes and breathed deeply against the pain. He realized most of what he loved about Marybeth was her spirit—her willingness to stand up against great odds to have the man she loved. His mother had done that, and so had his sister. Now they were free to love and be happy. There would be no more terror and threats for his Marybeth.

  “Let’s head back tonight, after we bury John,” he told Cap. “Hell, there’s a bright moon. I don’t want Marybeth to worry any longer than necessary.”

  “What you really mean is you can’t wait to get back to her.”

  Josh grinned. “Yeah. You’re right.” He thought of how good it was going to feel to hold her against him and know they were truly free to love. They had both survived a living hell. God surely did mean for them to be together. “I think I’ll have her teach me about those crazy beads of hers, Cap. I swear they have some kind of power.”

  May, 1853…

  Josh drove the wagon to the crest of a hill that overlooked his land in the valley. “Well, here we are,” he told Marybeth. “You sure you don’t mind living out of this thing for a week or two till we get a cabin built? With Sam and Aaron to help, it shouldn’t take too long.”

  She grasped his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. Danny, now two and a half years old, and the twins, a year old and already walking, romped in the back of the wagon, squealing and laughing.

  “Oh, Josh, you know I don’t mind,” Marybeth answered, looking out over the sweeping valley. A sparkling stream ran through the middle of it. “All that matters is that we’re here, alive, together.” She straightened and drank in the view. Today there was a scent of ocean air on the wind. Her eyes teared. “Josh, it’s prettier than I even imagined it. Just think, we have this beautiful land and we’re near our friends. Oh, I hope your sister comes out like she wrote she was thinking of doing. But I wouldn’t want some of the bad things to happen to them on the way that happened to so many of the others we traveled with.”

  “Hell, she’s got the Rivers spirit. She’d be all right.”

  She met his eyes, those soft, brown eyes that always held so much love for her. He was strong now, had his old weight back. Both of them were stronger, rested; best of all they were free of the pain of the past. “I love you so much, Josh.”

  He kissed her lightly. “And I love you. Let’s go home.” He picked up the reins and got the mules underway. “Watch the babies,” he said then. He gave out a loud, Texas “Yahoo!” and whipped the mules into a faster run toward the valley, and Marybeth laughed, hanging onto the wagon seat and realizing this was the last time she would have to bounce around in a wagon and use one for a home. Soon they would have that home they had talked about for so long. Far off in the distance she could see Aaron and Delores waving at them from their cabin to the south.

  She looked back at the children. Danny, as big as most children at least a year older than he, had his arms around Joe and Emma, hanging onto them, his dark eyes sparkling with laughter. In his face and build she could see the MacKinder blood, but this MacKinder was going to bring pride to the name. She and Josh would make sure of it.


  More from Rosanne Bittner

  Full Circle

  The last thing sheltered missionary Evelyn Gibbons wants upon arriving at the South Dakota reservation is to fall in love. Yet, from the moment she clashes with Black Hawk, the complicated man of the Sioux, she knows he’s everything she could ever want, and everything she can never have.

  Living in the hills with his young son, Black Hawk reveres the ways of his people and is determined to preserve Sioux traditions. But when he meets Evelyn, a woman from the society he most abhors, not even his own prejudices can smother the flame of desire that burns for her.

  But in the midst of their unlikely romance is a storm tide of treachery and hate that threatens to destroy their love, and their lives.

  Until Tomorrow

  Addy wants nothing more than to leave her small Illinois home for the gold-rich hills of Colorado, where a teaching job awaits. But her plans are thwarted when a band of outlaws rob the very bank in which she is withdrawing her savings, taking her hostage in the process. Rogue and ruthless, her captives sweep her off to the country with evil intent, but one man stands in the way.

  Ex-Confederate soldier Parker Cole doesn’t understand his own fierce determination to protect the beautiful captive from his fellow bandits. Touched by her courage and spirit, he vows to prove his love to her, following Addy to a mining boomtown filled with dreamers and desperados. Fearless though he may be, Parker must summon all of his courage to beat out the line of rich and powerful suitors in the pursuit of the greatest treasure—Addy’s heart.

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