Montana Surrender
Page 31
"Just tell the men to approach with caution," Jessica said with a gay laugh. "Maude's been practicing with that hatchet on the chickens out there, and she's pretty good with it."
Elias shook his head at her and walked away toward the saloons. "Wait a minute," he said as he stopped and looked back at them. "Those men will probably all be drunk as sin and I don't think we want a repeat of tonight's lynching attempt. Anyway, I want to check on Idalee first. What do you think about sending a posse of women out to the Lazy B, Storm? Think a few women might have a better chance of reasoning with the hatchet lady?"
"I think you've got a hell of a good idea, Elias," Storm agreed.
~~
Jessica yawned sleepily the next morning as she stood at the train depot between Storm and Ned. Heavens, they had been up talking most of the night at Idalee's.
Finding Ned not nearly as badly injured as she imagined, she had asked Storm to allow Ned to be the one to tell him what they had uncovered about Pete's life. After all, she informed Storm, if not for Ned's suspicions, the mystery of Storm's background would have remained hidden.
Ned adamantly refused to even talk to the young whippersnapper until Jessica explained her changed attitude toward Storm. She smiled to herself as she recalled the satisfied look that came over Ned's face when Jessica admitted her own part in the misunderstanding between her and Storm.
"Always did have that tender spot in your heart for the strays, didn't you, Jes?" Ned had said. And Jessica knew he wasn't only referring to Prudence.
Now Storm would no longer be a stray or an outcast. Before the day was out, he would be her husband. Even now the brothel was humming as the women prepared for the double wedding of Jessica and Idalee that afternoon.
Jessica shook her head and smiled to herself as she recalled Sassy's answer when she inquired how on earth they would ever get the lone minister in town to perform a wedding ceremony in a brothel.
"Idalee deeded this place to all of us equally after she and Mr. Elias leave for New Orleans," Sassy had said with an emphatic nod of her head. "If that minister wants to keep coming here until he finds a wife of his own, he'll perform the service all right."
Jessica giggled under her breath and Storm looked down at her with a frown.
"What's so funny?"
"I was just recalling yours and Elias's faces early this morning after the women came back with David Baker. You both acted like you were scared to death they'd truss you up and take you to jail unless you agreed to the having the wedding today. I've never seen two men more afraid of a few defenseless women."
"Defenseless? Did you see Maude when Idy asked her to tell her own version of how she rescued you?" Storm gave a mock shiver of horror. "I could just see that hatchet in her hand. I still can't believe you asked her to stand up with you."
"Well, I did," Jessica said sternly. "Idalee has Prudence and I wanted my own matron of honor. Mattie can't be here or it would have been her."
"Don't be too sure of that, Jes," Ned said with an enigmatic smile at he nodded his head to the train coming down the tracks.
The train's whistle cut the air, drowning out Jessica's insistence that Ned explain his words. It pulled to a screeching halt in front of them while Ned ignored Jessica's tug on his arm and renewed demands for his attention. She finally stamped her foot and crossed her arms under her breasts when Ned and Storm exchanged a twinkling look over her head.
"Men!" she muttered under her breath.
Her pique gave way to joy an instant later when the conductor assisted a small, round woman down the steps. She started forward, then stopped and glanced at Ned.
"You first, Ned," she said. "Tell her I'm waiting to welcome her."
Ned nodded at her and spat the wad of tobacco from his mouth before he walked quickly over to Mattie.
"Uh oh," Jessica breathed softly as a tall, elderly man came down the steps behind Mattie, standing quietly until Ned finally released his wife.
"That must be Frederick," Storm said as he looked down at her with a wry quirk to his lips. "Think he'll want to dance with you at our wedding?"
Jessica blushed as Storm slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. "Guess I better keep a close hold on you until after the wedding. I wouldn't want you to change your mind between now and then. I never did get a chance to fire up that gramophone in the cave and show you that I can dance just as well as the next man."
A light dawned in Jessica's face and she turned a mischievous grin up at Storm. "That's how you did it, isn't it? I already figured out you probably did the Indian chief with a picture and lantern light behind a set of your empty buckskins. And a friend of mine back in Wyoming has a gramophone, with a lot of different platters that play on it. They played music, but I'll bet sounds could be recorded on them just as easily. Sounds like rifle shots and hoofbeats."
"I guess you'll just have to buy one with your share of the gold mine Prudence gave you and try it out for yourself," Storm said.
Jessica's lips quirked into a pout, but just as suddenly her eyes widened when the next passenger stepped from the train. A silver badge glinted on the man's chest as he moved toward where they stood.
"S...Storm," she whispered. "It's the marshal. And he doesn't know yet...."
"Mornin'," the tall man said as he stopped beside them. "You must be old Pete Russell's son. I met Pete a few times over the years and I can tell just by lookin' at you. But you're probably going to have to show that lawyer feller over there your birth mark before he'll turn over your inheritance to you. Right suspicious fellers, them lawyers are."
A puzzled look came over Storm's face as he held his hand out to accept the marshal's handshake.
"Marshal Jennings," the man introduced himself. "And I'm glad I didn't make this trip for nothing. I assume my other prisoners are in the jail?"
"How...?" Jessica could only shake her head and stare at the marshal, her words refusing to form coherently in her mind.
"Don't I get a hug?"
Jessica's eyes flew to Mattie and she flung herself into Mattie's arms. The two women clung tightly for a moment before Mattie pushed her away and ran her eyes up and down Jessica.
"Gone and grown up on me, haven't you?" Mattie said with a satisfied nod. "'Bout time, too."
"Oh, Mattie, I was grown before I left Wyoming."
"Not completely, honey," Mattie said. "Woman's never completely grown until she has a man of her own to love. Figured you'd find that out some day. Now, let me meet this man who finally made a woman out of my little girl."
Mattie gave Storm the same up and down perusal as Jessica introduced him, and Storm found himself holding his breath. Lord, what in heaven had happened to all the women in the world overnight? Why, just yesterday he had lived in a world run by men, and now he found himself wondering if there was a woman left who needed a man's protection.
Storm breathed out a sigh of relief as Mattie nodded and stepped up to kiss him on the cheek. "You'll do," she said as she stepped back. "And Ned tells me there's a wedding to go to. Best you don't be late now, hear?"
"N...no ma'am," Storm agreed.
Jessica giggled softly as Storm watched Mattie take Ned's arm and lead him and the marshal away, an astonished look on his face.
"I feel the same way at times, son," a voice said. Both Jessica and Storm turned to look at Frederick.
"We'll talk later," Frederick said after he introduced himself to Storm. "There's a little matter of some paperwork to straighten out on that mine your father found. And, of course, you've got half of Jessica's ranch back in Wyoming. Pete and Foster owned it together, but both their Wills stated it would be Jessica's alone unless you were found. I imagine you do have a heart shaped birth mark on your thigh?"
"He does," Jessica excitedly informed Frederick. When Frederick quirked an eyebrow at her, she dropped her head to hide another blush stealing over her cheeks.
Both men roared with laughter for a second, but it died in their throat
s when Jessica managed to control her embarrassment and stare at them, her eyes filling with the gold flecks of anger Storm knew so well. He pulled her into his arms and Jessica's eyes immediately softened again.
"It won't matter, honey," Storm said. "The ranch would have been ours together anyway after we were married." He looked over at Frederick. "But that mine belongs to Prudence Jackson. Her brother owned the land it's on."
"Don't matter," Frederick denied. "Old Pete's claim was filed all legal and proper, both in Montana and Wyoming. The mine goes to his son, Storm Russell."
"Do me one favor, Frederick," Storm said. "Don't tell Prudence. Just draw up a deed giving her half of it. Is that all right with you, honey?" he asked belatedly when he remembered the woman in his arms.
"Of course, Storm. And here, Frederick."
Jessica pulled the ribbon wrapped piece of paper from her riding skirt pocket. "I've already shown this to Storm. It's Charles Baker's new Will, splitting all his holdings among his own sons and Storm and Idalee. I had Sassy bring it in from the ranch last night. The other Will's probably a forgery, and I imagine there will be a big mess now with David and Harlin under arrest."
"Not much, Jessica," Frederick informed her. "Law says no one can profit from their own evil deeds, and from what I hear about these Baker boys, there's plenty of evidence against them."
"How in the world do you, Mattie and the marshal know everything that's gone on here, Frederick?" Jessica asked.
"Why, telegrams, of course," Frederick told her. "They started back in Wyoming and were signed by someone named Elias Gant. It was almost as good as one of them serial stories in the newspapers. We found one waiting at almost every stop we made on the way here. Made pretty good reading, too, if a person liked to read them romance stories. Now, if you'll point me in the direction of this wedding, I'll get going. Want to be one of the first to dance with the two brides. Always did like to dance."
Storm quickly gave Frederick directions, keeping his arms firmly around Jessica when she would have followed Frederick.
"Not yet, pretty lady," he said when she gazed up at him. "Something tells me we aren't going to have a moment's privacy the rest of the day, and we sure as heck didn't get any last night."
"You better get used to it, Storm," Jessica said with a smile of love. "I think you've ridden your last lonely trail."
"Thank God," Storm breathed before he kissed her.
Discover Other E-book Romances by
Trana Mae Simmons:
Montana Surrender, Historical Romance (Sexy)
Bittersweet Promises, Historical Romance (Sexy)
Mountain Magic, Historical Romance (Sexy)
Forever Angels, Time Travel/Historical Romance (Sexy)
Witch Angel, Time Travel/Historical Romance (Sexy)
Spellbound, Paranormal Romance/Historical (Sexy)
Southern Charms, Paranormal Romance/Historical (Sexy)
Chrissy's Wish (Christmas Novella, Sweet)
Tennessee Waltz, Sweet Historical
Winter Dreams, Sweet Historical
Town Social, Sweet Historical
Writing as T. M. Simmons:
Dead Man Paranormal Mysteries:
Dead Man Talking
Dead Man Haunt
Dead Man Hand
Dead Man Ohio (Fall/Winter 2013)
Winter Prey, Paranormal Dark Suspense
Silent Prey, Paranormal Dark Suspense (Summer 2013)
Dragon's Dishonor, a Short Story
To All a Good Night, a Short Story
Grave Yarns (Fictional Horror Short Stories)
True Ghost Stories:
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume I
Ghost Hunting Diary, Volume II
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume III
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume IV
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume V
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume VI (in progress)
Trana Mae Simmons
Bio and Contact Info
Trana Mae Simmons lives in a historical town in East Texas, with her family and pets. She enjoys researching her romances as much as writing them. When not writing, she loves to travel and explore both off-the-beaten-paths and tourist sites. If ghosts happen to be roaming around where she visits, it delights her immensely.
As T. M. Simmons, she was dragged down the ghost hunting trail many years ago, due to her avid curiosity and an aunt, Belle Brown, who had been dealing with the paranormal for more years than that. They both traveled to numerous haunted locations and succeeded in scaring themselves silly … uh … sillier and enjoying every bit of it. As a writer, some of the locations sparked entire books in Simmons' mind.
Read on after the contact and booklist information for an excerpt fromBittersweet Promises, another Simmons ebook. Bittersweet Promises is also a sexy, sensual romance. Enjoy!
Contact Info:
For Romance:
A web site at http://www.tranamaesimmons.com
A Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/tranam.simmons
Can be reached on Twitter @TMSimmonsauthor
Email: trana@tranamaesimmons.com
For Mysteries and Ghosts:
A web site at http://www.iseeghosts.com
A blog at http://www.iseedeadfolks@blogspot.com/
A Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/tranam.simmons
A short video of Simmons and friends talking to ghosts at http://tiny.cc/ba9ls
Can be reached on Twitter: @TMSimmonsauthor
Email: tmsimmons@iseeghosts.com
Discover Other E-Books
by this Author
Writing as Trana Mae Simmons
Montana Surrender, Historical Romance (Sexy)
Bittersweet Promises, Historical Romance (Sexy)
Mountain Magic, Historical Romance (Sexy)
Forever Angels, Time Travel/Historical Romance (Sexy)
Witch Angel, Time Travel/Historical Romance (Sexy)
Spellbound, Paranormal Romance/Historical (Sexy)
Southern Charms, Paranormal Romance/Historical (Sexy)
Chrissy's Wish (Christmas Novella, Sweet)
Tennessee Waltz, Sweet Historical
Winter Dreams, Sweet Historical
Town Social, Sweet Historical
Writing as T. M. Simmons
Mysteries with Ghosts:
Dead Man Talking
Dead Man Haunt
Dead Man Hand
Dead Man Ohio,
(Tentative Title) (Fall 2013)
Paranormal Suspense:
Winter Prey
Silent Prey (Summer 2013)
True Ghost Stories:
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume I
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume II
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume III
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume IV
Ghost Hunting Diary Volume V
Short Story Fiction:
Grave Yarns, a Collection of Short Stories)
To All a Good Night, a Short Story
Dragon's Dishonor, a Short Story
Bittersweet Promises
February 13, 1866
The door on the general store slammed open and the stagecoach driver clumped across the board walkway, halting at the edge to bite off a hefty chaw from his newly- purchased tobacco plug. One of the coach horses pricked its ears and whuffed out a steamy cloud of breath as it turned its head toward the voice.
"Danged fool passengers," the driver grumbled around the bulge in his cheek. "Got nothin' better to do than set inside and rest their legs and backsides, while I ride up there in the weather. Then they 'spect me to be their lackey and carry their bags back to the hotel, just 'cause I didn't stop there an' let them out!"
"I heard that!" Shanna pushed the door she had caught in mid backswing open further and marched after the driver. "I'll report your insolence! Don't you think I won't!"
The driver rolled his eyes and shook his head before he turned around. "You an' that boy can carry your own bags. Don't look to
me like there's a derned thing wrong with neither one of you."
Realizing her little brother had followed her outside didn't calm Shanna's anger a bit. "Our passage money entitles us to your assistance in handling our baggage. Every other driver we've had on this trip gave us that courtesy."
"Yeah, well those other drivers probably didn't have to wait an extra fifteen minutes in the morning for you to primp your face. You put me behind schedule, and now I gotta make up the time."
The driver climbed into his seat as Shanna glared at him indignantly. Fix her face, indeed. All she'd been trying to do was at least get her upper body washed and her dress changed. She darned sure hadn't lingered over that breakfast of half-cooked oatmeal.
"You're a disgrace," she finally spat at the driver as he reached for the reins. "I'm going to make that report in writing, not just verbally. I'm also going to tell the company how rude you were to Toby and me at the waystation this morning, and ask them to discipline you."
"Won't do you no good," the driver said with a sneer. "Coach lines can't hardly get drivers these days, 'specially ones good with a gun — an' I am. The lines are makin' money 'cause all the train tracks was tore up in the war, an' they ain't about to fire me just 'cause I won't haul your blasted bags to the hotel. Should've brought your fancy-pants maid with you, you wanted someone to wait on you hand and foot!"