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Deep Trouble

Page 29

by Mary Connealy


  “When I get you lifted enough, let go of the tree and grab hold of the rope with your right hand. It’s stronger. Then hang on tight while I lift you up. It’ll spare your sore arm and hopefully keep the noose from strangling you.” Gabe swallowed hard, keeping his eyes locked on hers, trying to connect with her and share his strength.

  She looked away. “Gabe.” Shannon seemed to be staring straight out over the basin.

  He followed her gaze. “What?” Gabe prepared to lift her, praying it would work.

  “If you just let me swing over there, I can get the necklace.”

  Necklace? Gabe looked farther out and saw what looked like an oversized cross dangling from a chain. Lurene had held it. He realized that now, but he’d been too busy trying to get to Shannon to really see what was in Lurene’s hand. It was gold. Even from up here, Gabe knew instantly that this was what Shannon had been searching for.

  “No. Forget it. We’re getting you up from this cliff, and we’ll worry about the necklace later.”

  “But it’s proof, Gabe. It’s proof that my father wasn’t crazy. And it’s gold, pure gold.” Shannon reached with her wounded arm for that cross.

  “Let it go and hang on to the rope.”

  “But it might fall in that pit. We need to get it now.”

  “Shannon! Hang on. The tree can’t hold much longer. You need to have a grip on the rope.”

  With what looked like nearly superhuman effort, Shannon looked back at Gabe. The tree roots snapped. Shannon screamed and grabbed the rope with her right hand. The tree plummeted with the gold necklace twisting around it and vanished into the endless pit.

  Pulling with every ounce of effort, his eyes never leaving her, Gabe saw Shannon take a solid hold on the rope. An instant later, she cleared the rim. Gabe grabbed her by the back of her shirt and dragged her over the ledge and fell backward. She landed on top of him with a thud. They lay gasping for breath for a few seconds, then Shannon wrapped her right arm around his neck and kissed him.

  They were still kissing when someone cleared his throat. Loudly. Repeatedly.

  Gabe opened his eyes to see Bucky. A man who was clean out of luck if he wanted to marry Gabe’s woman.

  Twenty~Five

  Buck looked away from his woman kissing this stranger. He did his best, but he just couldn’t envision Shannon as a rancher’s wife.

  Even seeing her out here in the wilderness, the image just wouldn’t focus. She’d spent most of her life deciding between entertaining callers in the drawing room or the parlor, deciding whether to eat in the breakfast room, the casual dining room, or the formal dining room, or having a tray sent to her room.

  Even while she’d plotted and planned her way to the underbelly of the world, she’d mostly done it on paper, writing and decoding and figuring. Shannon was going to die if she had to wash clothes by hand.

  Buck had a feeling, though, that she wasn’t going to let that stop her. He wondered if she could hire a housekeeper out west. Abe had said his brother was from Wyoming. Buck had only the vaguest notion where that even was. No drawing rooms there. Probably not one in the whole state. On the other hand, she’d be far from her mother, so maybe laundry by hand wasn’t a bad tradeoff.

  He looked at Tyra, who was frowning down at the man she’d intended to marry. He hoped she wasn’t feeling too bad. She looked up at him and smiled. No, not too bad at all.

  He moved over to put his arms around her waist just as her father came up and almost burned Buck all the way to the ground with a single glare. “Get your hands off my daughter.”

  Buck dropped his arm but not his smile. “Fine. For now.”

  Tyra gave him a lightweight punch in the arm. “Anybody got any ideas how we’re gonna get home?”

  With a tired sigh, Abe said, “Get up Gabe.”

  Gabe was standing up anyway. He helped Shannon to her feet, so mindful of her arm it caught in Buck’s throat a bit. The man really was in love with Shannon. He had his work cut out for him.

  “We’ve got our work cut out for us.” Abe looked between the two couples then at Lucas Morgan. “We’ve got prisoners to fetch, a long trail out of here, and not much daylight left to figure it all out.”

  “Can we search the mesa for more gold artifacts before we do all that?” Shannon asked.

  “No!” Five voices in unison absolutely refused.

  Of course they spent the rest of the day up there hunting around.

  Shannon bagged up a bunch of worthless bits of broken pottery. Buck didn’t think the woman had much sense, but then she’d come a long way to leave empty-handed.

  They barely got down to the bottom of the bluff before the sun set. They rounded up their prisoners, who’d gotten real tired of being bound hand and foot in the woods. Not that anyone cared much what they thought.

  They were bedding down for the night just as an Indian couple came riding in. Buck braced himself for more trouble. Shannon ran forward and threw her arms around one of them as soon as they were on the ground. Buck realized it was an elderly woman, and between that and the hug, he decided this wasn’t shooting trouble.

  “How’d you get horses down here?” Buck asked. The barrage of words almost made him sorry he’d asked.

  A third person with them dismounted, and his horse pranced sideways. The man’s foot caught in the stirrup, and he fell over backward. The horse dragged him until Gabe rushed over and caught the reins.

  “I hate horses.”

  Buck noticed a clerical collar.

  Lucas helped the man to his feet while Tyra dusted him off and Gabe stripped the saddle. The horse stood quietly while Gabe worked.

  The Indian couple was introduced, but the names were odd and Buck wasn’t sure just how to pronounce them.

  “And this is Parson Hank Ford.” Shannon brushed a bit more dirt off the parson. “You know, I’ve been riding your black mustang ever since we were kidnapped.”

  “Terrible horse. I should have sold him years ago.” Ford glared at the little black horse, which stood picketed a few dozen yards away, grazing with the other horses. As if the horse heard the parson talk about him, he raised his head, laid his ears back, and bared his teeth straight at the parson.

  “He’s as gentle and well behaved as any horse I’ve ever ridden, Parson. And I’ve never been in wild country like this before. And that horse you rode in on is mine. No trouble there either. I think you must be doing something to upset them.”

  “I am not!” The parson’s demeanor really wasn’t a good match for his white collar, but the Navajo folks seemed to accept and like him. So maybe he was just a lunatic on this one topic.

  Gabe chose that moment to lead the horse past the parson. When it drew even, it jerked the reins loose from Gabe’s hand and lunged at the parson and bit him.

  “Get away from me!” The parson tugged on his arm. The horse’s teeth stayed sunken into his sleeve.

  There was a flurry of activity before Gabe got the parson free and led the horse away. The horse took a wild kick at the parson, which only missed because the parson was stumbling backward.

  “The horses do seem to be a little unruly around you,” Buck said.

  “A few more years and there won’t even be a horse left.”

  Everyone burst out laughing. Even the four prisoners, bound hand and foot, sitting by the fire.

  “People have to get around, Parson.” Gabe came back from picketing the parson’s horse in time to catch the parson’s comment. “Horses are the only way, unless you’re gonna ride cowback.”

  Abe and Lucas laughed, and the parson’s eyes narrowed.

  “Maybe buffaloback, like Captain Hance,” Abe said, which only made everyone laugh louder.

  “I rode a bicycle back east. My whole family hates horses.”

  “Waste a’ time hatin’ horses.” Lucas then looked between Tyra and Buck as if he had a better use for his time—hating the man his daughter wanted to marry.

  “I got a nephew who thinks he can
put a motor on a bicycle. A motor that will be run with a coal-oil engine. I’m really proud of him. Lots of people back east are working on that.”

  Buck knew that was true, but he doubted they’d ever come up with anything more dependable than a horse. “Like all of us will have our own personal trains? The streets are crowded now, Parson Ford.”

  The group laughed.

  “Laying track right through the middle of the city—that’d take a lot of time and money.” Shannon walked to Gabe’s side and slid her arm around his waist. She’d been within his reach for all but a few seconds ever since he’d pulled her off that cliff.

  “My nephew Henry will show all of you.” The parson fumed. “You just wait and see. He’s a bright boy. You watch for the name Henry Ford and just see if he doesn’t build a carriage that runs without a horse. He’ll be famous. You mark my words. But that doesn’t get us out of the canyon. I’m not riding a horse if you found a way to walk.”

  “The man who guided us down here took us over a trail that’d make a mountain goat faint dead away,” Buck said.

  “Horseless carriage? Might as well fly around in the air like a bird.” Gabe laughed and shook his head. “We’ll figure out who’s walking and who’s riding in the morning. Until then, what would you think about performing a wedding ceremony, Parson Ford?”

  A shout from the mouth of the canyon turned them all around again. Captain Hance came striding in. “Where’d all you folks come from? And where’d you get those horses?”

  “Who’s that?” Shannon asked.

  Buck shook his head. “Long story.”

  Captain Hance started yelling, but by now Buck was so used to ignoring him, it didn’t even distract him much.

  Shannon looked between Buck and Gabe, and then her eyes settled on Buck. “Um… sorry, Bucky.”

  Shaking his head, Buck said, “I kinda figured it out when you were kissing him before. And call me Buck.”

  Shannon’s brows arched.

  “It’s a terrible idea, kid,” Abe said to his little brother.

  “I’m not a kid, Abe.” Gabe sounded just the littlest bit whiny. Then he went on in a much deeper tone of voice. “I quit being a kid about the time my cavalry troop had the first tussle with Apaches.”

  “What happened to your voice?” Shannon looked worried.

  “Hush.” Gabe pulled her close.

  “She ain’t gonna make you a good ranch wife, kid. You need to pick a woman who knows the West.” Abe looked over at Tyra in a way that wasn’t the least bit subtle.

  Buck moved closer to her. He wasn’t real familiar with the West, but he didn’t think a brother could pick a wife for his brother. Unless he was in the mood to beat on him until he said yes.

  And the exact opposite might be true of vetoing a husband that a gritty western man didn’t approve of.

  Buck looked down to meet Tyra’s eyes. She smiled, and Buck saw all he needed to see. “Why don’t we make it a double wedding, Parson.”

  “What?” Lucas Morgan scowled and came over to drag his daughter away from Buck.

  “I don’t mind learning to be a rancher, Lucas. But I’ll take some teaching. And if you don’t like it, Tyra and I can go back to St. Louis and live there.” He looked straight at Tyra’s dancing, glowing eyes. “Can’t we?”

  “Oh yes, we can.” She tugged at her father’s grip, and the man must have been momentarily stunned because she got away and came back to wrap her arms around Buck’s waist.

  “You’re getting married, too, Bucky?” Shannon asked.

  He didn’t see one speck of regret in her eyes, the brat. “I told you to call me Buck.”

  Shannon grinned. “Good idea.”

  They squabbled awhile, but in the end the parson performed a marriage ceremony in the heart of one of the most beautiful cathedrals on earth.

  Abe was Gabe’s best man. Then, because Buck was a little afraid to stand too close to his very disgruntled father-in-law, and honestly everyone else was either an outlaw or had already been in a ceremony, Buck had Hosteen Tsosi—whoever he was—stand up with him. With some relish, he imagined telling his mother a Navajo Indian had been the best man at his wedding. It’d about kill her.

  They settled in for a night’s sleep, about a third of their number tied up. Buck probably wouldn’t have pushed his luck and tried to get his brand-new wife off by herself. But when Gabe dragged Shannon off with the announcement that he was going to set up his own camp and start his own fire, Buck got brave and went in the opposite direction with Tyra.

  “It might be best to be a little bit away from your father anyway,” Buck whispered to his pretty new wife as they walked away. “I’m not sure he didn’t have plans to kill me in my sleep.”

  Tyra laughed and put her arm around his waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and Buck decided he was facing death and dismemberment on a ranch for the best possible reason. They rounded a clump of trees, and he said, “I love you.”

  She looked up. Dusk had settled over the canyon. The spot she’d chosen for them was in deep shadows. “I can’t believe I went out for a ride with my pa and ended up at the bottom of the Grand Canyon married to a city boy.” Her smiled widened, and he could see the gleam of her white teeth reflected by the light of the rising moon.

  “And I can’t believe I’ll never have to listen to my mother nag me again, but I will probably spend the next few months being tortured by your father until I’ve learned enough about ranching that I’m no longer shaming him with every breath I take.”

  Tyra wrinkled her nose at him. “Dreamer, it’ll probably take years.”

  “Really?” Buck’s voice squeaked a little. He tried to control it, but the terror got in the way.

  “Yep, and I love you, too. Just because my life took a crazy twist doesn’t mean I’m not real happy about it. I am. I’m thrilled.”

  Buck leaned down and kissed that pretty smile. “I think you don’t really know the meaning of the word thrilled, little lady.”

  And then he found out that until now, he hadn’t known the meaning of thrilled either. But they discovered it together in the depths of the most beautiful place on earth.

  Twenty~Six

  So you’ll come to Wyoming with me?” Gabe lit his fire from a piece of kindling he’d brought from the main camp and tried his best to erase the image of Lucas Morgan trying to burn him to death with his eyes while a city man married Tyra. Like that was Gabe’s fault.

  “Yes, if you’ll come to St. Louis with me first and meet my mother.”

  Gabe was surprised how willing he was to follow her anywhere. “You act like those two are equal. How hard can it be to say hi to your ma?”

  Shaking her head, she gave him a pitying look in the growing firelight. “Of course they’re not equal. You’ve never met my mother. A Wyoming winter is nothing compared to the way she’s going to blizzard down on you… on both of us. It’s a good thing we got married out here. We can just present her with a fait accompli.”

  “A fate of what?”

  “That means we got away with it.”

  “Oh, well, she might not want a ranch life for you, but she’ll want you to be happy.”

  Shannon snorted.

  “Uh… Shan, Wyoming is cold. You know that, right?”

  “Sure, it’s cold in St. Louis in the winter, too.”

  “I’ve been in St. Louis in the winter.” It was Gabe’s turn to snort, but he suppressed the impulse. “Stopped off there after I left home and spent a few weeks one January waiting to head west with my cavalry troop. The wind can get a little stiff, but it’s not the same kind of cold.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “And it snows. Oh, does it snow.”

  Shannon smiled. “I need to get my clothes and some furniture left to me by my grandmother, and I have an inheritance I’ll need to take to Wyoming. We can take my family’s train car to Ranger Bluffs.”

  “Uh no, we can’t. There aren’t any train tracks there.�


  Shannon looked taken aback. “Oh well, how do we haul my things then?” Gabe’s stomach sank. His wife was in for some real surprises.

  “I guess we can hire a mule skinner to freight it out there.” Gabe tried to remember where the closest railhead was. Cheyenne for sure had one. Salt Lake City? Maybe they’d built a line a little closer since he’d left. Wherever the train came, it wasn’t close and there was a lot of rugged ground to cover to get to Ranger Bluffs. “How much furniture do you have?”

  “Oh, lots. My grandmother left everything to me. Enough to furnish the whole house comfortably.” Shannon turned, looking alarmed.

  Gabe remembered that she’d cried before. He braced himself to say whatever he needed to prevent that.

  “Is your house already full of furniture?”

  “No, I’ve never really lived in the place. I stayed there for a few weeks, right after I bought it, and then I got to wandering. No furniture.” Since Gabe’s house was one room, about fifteen feet square, he had no doubt that was true. There’d been a few things, but he was pretty sure they’d collapsed or been stolen by now.

  “Good, because Grandma’s mansion was three stories. We’ll have plenty.”

  With a quiet sigh, he decided he’d have to add on a couple of rooms. “We’ll work out all the details as we go along. What’s important is that we love each other and want to spend our lives together.”

  Gabe pulled her into his arms, heartily tired of talking. He kissed her until she seemed to have given up planning out their lives. He lowered her to the bed they’d made beside the fire and forgot everything that could go wrong.

  But he did have one worry. “I’m sorry we didn’t find any more gold for you, Shannon.” Gabe lay beside her, the fire flickering and crackling. The scent of wood smoke wafting around them.

  He felt purely at home here. He fit in the wild country. He hoped his new wife did, too. “There are other buttes in this place. There could be other villages tucked away.” It worried him, this strange affliction of his wife’s for gold. “Are you really disappointed? We could hunt around here more.”

 

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