Brazos Bride

by Caroline Clemmons

  Micah said, “Word of our wedding seems to have spread through the town fast."

  "Yeah, Bowman told me when I went for my mail." Ryan stroked his chin and scrutinized Micah. "That’s too bad, Stone. Don’t know the lady well, but it’s a shame someone’s out to kill her.”

  "Damn right. I aim to see no one hurts my wife, but so far I'm not doing too well."

  When Micah reached the Presidential Suite, Herman Stevens patrolled outside the door like a sentry. When he spotted Micah, Stevens stopped and stood at attention. Micah expected a salute any second.

  "Your wife asked me to step out, but I been guarding her like you said."

  "Thanks, Stevens, but reckon whoever shot at us is long gone. Could we move to another room—one with less exposure?"

  Stevens nodded. "You go on in and I'll bring you the key to this here room back of yours."

  Micah thanked him and went inside. If he kept his gaze from the bed, the room looked deceptively peaceful. Hope wore a wrapper and had lit the lamp, but she sat away from view through the windows. If possible, she looked even paler than earlier today.

  "You okay?" he asked.

  She looked up at him, eyes wide with fright, and pointed to the mattress. "Thanks to you."

  He examined the rip across the top, right where he and Hope had lain.

  Would the bullet have killed both of them? Probably. He recalled hearing about Cole Younger tying Union soldiers together in the War to see how many men one bullet would pierce, but he didn't know the truth of that story. He knew one rifle shot could kill two people, though, for he'd seen it happen.

  Running a hand over the hole in the splintered headboard barely above where their heads had lain, then across the exposed cotton stuffing that popped up through the torn sheet and ticking, he whistled softly. "This wasn't just to scare us, Hope. Someone meant business here. Deadly business."

  He moved to the window and looked across the street. The Mercantile's façade offered a good three feet of cover to hide an assassin. From the roof’s West end, a rifleman had a perfect line of sight to the bed.

  "Can we please get out of this room now?" Hope asked, clutching her bundled clothes to her chest. Visibly trembling, she jumped at a rap on the door.

  Stevens called, "I have that key for you."

  Micah opened the door carefully.

  Stevens pointed to the room behind theirs. "Number three. Won't charge you extra or nothing, but you folks got to pay for that ruined bed. Reckon it was you being shot at."

  Hope rose and walked to stand near Micah. “Anything, just get us out of this room.”

  Micah took the key Stevens handed him. "Thanks." He scooped up the rest of their belongings.

  The innkeeper shuffled away and Micah checked the hallway, then motioned for Hope to follow him. The new room’s view revealed only the top of the one-story bank across the alley.

  Hope turned back the bed. Lord, she looked ready to drop. He doused the lamp. Moonlight silhouetted her as she removed the wrapper and slid between the sheets. Without asking or waiting for an invitation, he tugged off his boots and lay down atop the bed.

  "You didn't find anyone, did you?" she asked in a whisper.

  Her trembling tempted him to cuddle her near and soothe her fears, but he didn’t reckon she’d take kindly to him doing so. "No. Sheriff said he'd look more tomorrow and let us know. Don't figure he'll find much."

  "Micah, I am trying to be brave, but I am really frightened. I did not expect anything like this, and nothing so fast."

  He turned and spooned himself to her and slid his arm across her tiny waist. She sucked in her breath but didn't resist. Breathing in her scent, he moved his mouth near her wonderful hair.

  "You are brave, and smart to figure out about the poison. It'll be all right now. Go to sleep and don't worry. We'll soon find out who's behind this."

  Dang, he sure hoped he spoke the truth.

  Chapter Ten

  The sheriff stopped them on their way out of town to let them know he'd checked the area.

  "Found two spent cartridges on the Mercantile's roof. There's dozens of boot prints and tracks behind the building. No telling which belonged to your man."

  Micah said, "We'll be on the lookout, but it's hard to plan for a bushwhacker."

  "Your brothers staying around?"

  Micah nodded. "Until this is settled. They're moving to my wife's ranch long as they're needed. One of us will stay with her while the other two work."

  Sheriff Ryan nodded his approval. "That's good. One man can't be on guard twenty-four hours a day."

  Ryan stared hard at Micah, arms folded judgmentally across his chest. "Normally I don't hold with folks taking the law into their own hands. That's my job. But you and your brothers have been lawmen, so reckon you know what to do. All the same, better look sharp until this here trouble’s cleared up."

  Micah clicked to the horses and they drove off, his mare tied to the back of the rig. When Micah glanced back, the sheriff stood in the street watching their departure, a frown on his face. Micah couldn’t help wondering what Ryan was thinking. After all, a short time ago the sheriff had accused him of murder.

  As they left town behind, Hope stared left and right as if searching out anyone who waited to waylay them.

  Micah did the same. He thought ahead to the best places for an ambush. When they slowed near the dry creekbed. Near the ravine before the turnoff to his place. The cedar brake. All those were places they’d be most vulnerable. But he figured the mangy coyote would wait until they dropped their guard to strike again. Micah would have to make sure that day didn't come.

  Sunlight had brought another scorching day. Not a cloud rode the sky and only an occasional light breeze offered any relief. Grass had turned yellow and in many places the ground cracked from lack of moisture. Even the birds looked tired.

  When they passed the turn off to Hope's ranch and headed for the low hills, she looked at him and raised her eyebrows.

  “Where are you going?” She used her parasol to indicate the other road. “That is the way to my home.”

  "Need to fill in Joel and Zach, then we'll head on to your house.”

  She frowned at him, clearly not happy about the diversion.

  He hated to increase her fatigue, and it would add hours to their day. “My brothers need to know about the attempt to shoot us.”

  She stared at him a moment longer, then fixed her attention forward. “You should have consulted me.”

  “Would you like to stop and rest a spell?”

  “No,” she snapped, as if he’d dome something wrong.

  She appeared put out. But why? Hell, did she expect him to give a running commentary of his plans? He didn't know much about being married, but so far it was no picnic.

  Hope wanted to smack Micah with her parasol for bypassing the turn off to her home without even asking her. Not that she minded the trip to see his brothers, for she found herself curious about where he lived. But she minded plenty not being consulted about the decision, as if her opinion didn’t matter.

  They probably had another hour in this buggy and already her body ached and she needed to lie down and rest. Heat wilted her, and her yellow silk dress and petticoats stuck to her skin. Drat his hide for being so highhanded. She wished he'd at least say something to break the trip’s monotony.

  As if he read at least a portion of her thoughts, he said, "Lucky for us Eduardo left the buggy."

  "Yes, at least it offers a little shade." Still inclined to smack him, she kept her parasol aimed to the side and blocked the sun's rays. "I wonder how Eduardo got home?"

  "I reckon your cousin hired a horse from the livery stable. Still, it shows more consideration than I expected from him. Figured I'd be the one to have to rent a rig."

  "Eduardo is not a bad person, just...well, he makes grand plans, but never follows through." She met his gaze and smiled. "Eduardo is better at talking about work than actually doing any."

  He
chuckled. "Made him out for a mama's boy."

  Hope felt her face flush with embarrassment for her eccentric family. "Always Tio Jorge is very...hard on Eduardo. Tia Sofia dotes on him, even pampers him in spite of his resistance. She has tried to baby me, but I can not abide her coddling."

  "Figured as much." He narrowed his eyes and gave her a speculative look. "Your folks try coddling you?"

  She almost snorted in disgust. "Hardly. Do you honestly believe my father ever pampered anyone?"

  "Figured any man would fall prey to a pretty daughter like you, and I didn't know your mother. She passed on not long after I came."

  She gathered the offhand compliment to her with pleasure, but the mention of her parents saddened Hope.

  "Mother avoided my father when she could. He constantly criticized her." Me, too, she wanted to add but didn't. She couldn’t sort her feelings about her father—resentment, love, sadness, and fear.

  "Sorry, didn't mean to dredge up bad memories."

  She pivoted on the seat. Just looking at Micah’s handsome profile made her grow warm inside. Remembering the way he’d saved her last night, then comforted her to sleep let her know she’d chosen the right man to help her. She had to remind herself to not attach any emotion to it, and to remember their arrangement. And under no circumstances could she let herself fall prey to his good looks and strength.

  "What about your parents? You said your father died, but not how."

  His jaw tensed. "Pa died a broken man about two years ago. He'd managed to hold on to our home in Johnson County through the War, survived the horrible taxes and such afterward. Us boys helped him finally scrape together the money to pay off the mortgage on our place."

  Sadness showed in his posture. He shook his head, as if to erase the memory. "Papa didn't trust Wells Fargo, so he decided to carry the money to the Fort Worth bank himself. Robbers struck the stage. Took everything he had."

  "Oh, no. All the mortgage money?"

  "Yep, even the watch and ring my grandfather gave him. Guess you know if he'd put it in the express box, Wells Fargo would have guaranteed it and paid him back. As it was, we lost the ranch, the home he loved and had poured his sweat into. He believed he’d let his family down, plus he couldn’t bear losing all he’d worked years for. Guilt and disappointment killed him."

  "Did anyone catch the robbers?"

  "Not yet, but we discovered they were Frank Kirby’s gang. A few months ago we learned they're back in this area. Soon as we get you safe and sound, Zach and Joel are taking off after them."

  She remembered he'd said he was through with killing. He must have meant with being a lawman too. Very gently, she touched his arm. "I am very sorry. And your mother?"

  “Mama didn’t last long without Papa.” His somber face changed to a grin. “I’d say it’s just my brothers and me, but we have two aunts in Weatherford.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Real corkers. They’re gonna love you.”

  Love her? Tia Sofia was fond of her. Tio Jorge and Eduardo too, but only because she was a relative. She didn’t think anyone had ever actually loved her.

  The thought of his aunts caring in any degree both pleased and upset her at the same time. "You think it is wise I meet them? I mean, it would only upset them later when they learned we had parted."

  "Already arranged." His eyes widened and he inhaled sharply. He looked as if he wanted to take back what he'd said.

  She took a deep breath. “What do you mean, it is already arranged?”

  "Well, dam—um, darn. I was gonna go over it last night. But Eduardo distracted me and then you being sick and the shots and all, and I forgot. Didn’t seem a good time this morning, so I figured I’d tell you after we got to your place."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Tell me what?"

  "I studied on how to protect you. There're too many ways to slip poison into your food. Especially now that it can be in anything since you and my whole family would be the ones to eat it."

  "Your entire family?" Her Latin temper flared hot as the weather.

  "Don’t go getting riled. Let me get the whole thing out before you say anything else. You remember I told you Joel and Zach plan to stay close? Well, my aunts are coming to run the kitchen so no one has a chance to poison you."

  “Five people? My aunt and uncle are to be replaced by five people from your family?” He was taking over her life, locking her into a narrow cage as men in her family did to women.

  He shot her an angry look. “What are you complaining for? I told you I’d protect you. Will you let me do my damn job?”

  She took another calming breath and fought her temper. She thought she’d learned to control it. From where had it sprung? “Do you not think it would have been a good idea to check with me before you sent for your aunts?"

  He looked like a little boy caught misbehaving. She imagined he'd worn that same look often as a child. The charm of it probably saved him from many thrashings.

  He tugged at his ear lobe and grimaced. "Yes, Ma'am, I see that now. But at the time, I just couldn't think of anything better, and I wanted them here as soon as possible." He looked at her, his eyes pleading.

  “In spite of you telling me I was brave and intelligent last night, you chose to shut me out of plans for my safety as if only you had a right to decide my future?” She took another deep breath. “Micah, please do not treat me as if I am incapable of understanding the problem. You should have first discussed this plan with me."

  His nostrils flared and he exhaled a huge whoosh of breath. "I'm new at marriage, okay? And yes, I know it isn’t a real marriage. But I’m doing my best here. I served in the army and as a Texas Ranger. Whenever I got an assignment, I had to take immediate charge and solve the problem. Protecting your life is my assignment, see, so I took charge.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to silence her.

  "Now hear me out. I figure you must think I can do the job or you’d have asked someone else or picked another way to outsmart whoever’s after you. So, you shouldn't get mad when I try to do what you're paying me for.”

  She clamped her lips together to still her reply.

  “I know, I know. In the future, I'll try to include you in any decisions whenever possible."

  "Thank you. I will appreciate that courtesy." She regretted the snappish tone that had tinged her voice earlier. Thinking on his past, she figured it cost him to make his promise now. Their odd alliance required it, though. Would he remember next time?

  Chapter Eleven

  They rode in awkward silence for a while. Fatigue dogged her, so she attempted to distract herself by thinking about the invasion of his family. Where should each person sleep? How would the aunts really feel about her? Could they accept her and actually come to love her? Of course not, especially when they learned the real reason for her marriage.

  Although she'd lived there all her life, she'd never traveled west of her own land. Too dangerous, her father had said. Nothing but Indians out there. Of course, he’d said whatever suited his purpose. Probably he just wanted her to stay home where she could serve him.

  The low hills grew steeper and she recognized the small mountain ahead that she could see from her bedroom balcony. Taller than the peaks on her land, this one was the tallest in sight. Now that she saw it closer, the road winding up it looked treacherous. She wanted to ask if the mountain belonged to Micah, but curiosity about his aunts defeated her.

  "What are these aunts like? What are their names?"

  He smiled, as if even thinking of them cheered him. She returned his grin. Wouldn't having family members that evoked those thoughts be magnificent? These were the women who might love her. The thought sent a warm tingle of happiness through her.

  "They’re both tall, but Lizzie Mae Fraser is round as a barrel with little corkscrew curls that dance everywhere. She always looks on the bright side of everything. No matter how rotten a person is, she can find something nice to say about him. No matter how
gloomy the situation, she can find some good. And cook? Lordy, that woman can cook anything."

  He chuckled again, as if remembering a funny incident. "Maggie Jo Gamble is thin and more sparing with praise, but she would do anything for us boys. She's a bundle of energy, and buzzes around like she has to get everything in the world righted before dark."

  "They sound nice. Are they married?"

  "Were. Both are widows and lost their husbands in the War. Neither has children. They live together now."

  "When do you think they will be here?"

  "On the next stage from Weatherford. Zach wired them right after we were married. Remember I told you I spoke to Zach while you were getting ready for bed last night? That’s when Zach told me they’d sent a wire back yesterday evening before he left town."

  He turned toward a small cabin near a large barn. She looked at her lapel watch. The time was about right for this to be his home. Compared to her large hacienda, this place was tiny.

  The dogtrot cabin appeared built entirely of cedar logs, but she saw at least two windows with shutters. The house looked solid, though. A small covered porch with two benches and a chair jutted off the cabin by the front door.

  The barn couldn’t have been completed long, because the lumber still had the new look of fresh cut wood. Large doors opened into a fenced paddock. She wondered how many horses Micah owned. Near the barn stood a smaller shed. The aged wood indicated that had served as the old barn.

  At least his home would allow her to rest. Thank goodness, maybe she could lie down for a while. They’d arrived near noon and she hoped they'd eat soon. When she knew the food offered was safe, she became ravenous, but now she knew to curb her eating.

  Micah pulled up the reins and stopped near the front door. His hands cupped his mouth and he called, "Cooooeeee!"

  At first she thought men poured from the barn and corral but when she counted, there were only four. She recognized Micah's brothers but she didn't know the names of the other two.