Teton Romance Trilogy Bundle: Includes Yellowstone Proposal (Short Story)

by Peggy L Henderson

  “I know,” Evelyn whispered, and wrapped her arms around her brother’s waist. He held her tightly, a shudder passing through his body. Right now, she couldn’t be mad at him for what he had done. Right now, her brother needed consoling. The death of their parents a month ago had shaken him badly, as it had her. Evelyn was still not completely clear on the events that had transpired that fateful day.

  At her mother’s request, Evelyn had stayed the week with an elderly friend of the family whose husband had taken ill. While the woman tended to her husband, Evelyn cooked for her, and took care of basic chores around the house. Charlie had sent a boy with a message for her to come home straight away; that something horrible had happened. She’d found her parents dead, her mother’s throat slashed with a knife, and her brother hovering like a little child over their dead father.

  Apparently, Henry had already gone to the fields with the team of mules while his father finished some work in the barn. No one had seen nor heard from Alexander Walker in nearly six years.

  At about the same time, Charlie had come to pick up a piece of harness that Evelyn’s father helped him repair. According to Charlie, Alex came charging out of the house and headed straight for him. Luckily, he carried his hunting rifle with him. Raising the rifle, he had shot Alex in the chest, but the shot must not have killed him, for he ran off into the woods, and once again disappeared. The sound of gunshot had alerted Henry, who came back from the fields in time to hear his father’s final gasp for air.

  Evelyn eased her hold around her brother’s waist. “Without the farm, what are you going to do?” she asked again.

  Henry took a step back. He gripped her upper arms. Staring intently into her eyes, his facial muscles hard, he said, “I’m going after the bastard who killed our folks.”

  A quiet gasp escaped Evelyn’s throat. Her eyes grew wide with disbelief. “You can’t go after him, Henry. He’ll kill you. You know nothing about the wilderness.”

  “He has to be brought to justice, Evie,” Henry said, his fingers biting almost painfully into her skin. “I’m going to make him pay for what he did.”

  “I can’t lose you, too,” Evelyn pleaded. “Don’t do this, Henry. How will you even find him?”

  “I’ve hired some men to take me up the Missouri into what’s known as the Yellowstone country. These men know the wilderness. They’ll help me find him.”

  “When?” Evelyn asked, her voice uncharacteristically shaky.

  “I leave at first light.”

  A sudden feeling of the world spinning and turning upside down came over her. In a matter of a few short minutes, her life was no longer her own, and she had lost everything she still held dear to her heart.

  Chapter 2

  Evelyn pulled the hat she wore further down onto her head and tucked some loose strands of hair under the cap. She wrapped Henry’s old wool coat tighter around herself, a slight shiver passing down her spine. Inhaling a deep breath, she hoped the fierce pounding of her heart would ease up, even as her apprehension grew. Her breath swirled in front of her as the early morning sun rose higher in the eastern horizon. She glanced at the many boats anchored along the banks of the Missouri River. The docks were already teaming with dozens of men loading and unloading cargo.

  Her eyes traveled along the line of flatboats, barges, and longer keelboats until she spotted Henry standing with a rough-looking group of men near the plank of a keelboat. He looked out of place in his wool trousers and jacket, while the others were dressed mostly in buckskins and furs, many of them wearing fur hats. Each one of them appeared to be well armed with rifles and an assortment of weaponry hanging off their belts. Where had Henry found such an objectionable bunch of men to take him into the wilderness? Evelyn absently rubbed her fingers against the palms of her suddenly sweaty hands. She glanced over her shoulder at the path she had just come from. There was still time to turn around.

  Squaring her shoulders, Evelyn raised her chin. She was not about to turn back. She had already made up her mind last night about what she was going to do. Having lost her appetite after Henry’s announcement that he planned to pursue Alex, and that he had given her away in marriage to someone she barely tolerated, she’d retired to her room. Tears of despair had rolled freely down her cheeks, followed quickly by tears of anger. A plan had slowly formed in her mind. She would not be left behind. Even if she remained at the farm that had always been her home, it would no longer be her home.

  If Henry was going to apprehend Alex, then she wanted to be there to look him in the eyes and demand answers. Why had he killed her parents after everything her ma and pa had done for him while he was growing up? Her mother had tended to the injuries inflicted by his father as best as she knew how, and treated him like a son. Often, he’d spend several days at the farm before returning to his own family. How could he kill the people who had been so kind to him?

  Alex has always had it in him to become just as ruthless as his father, and the wilderness has made him ten times more so. Henry’s words echoed in her mind. If that were so, then how did Henry figure to apprehend him? Henry was a farmer. He could shoot an occasional buck or snare a rabbit when called for, but he was not a killer. One glance at the men who stood with her brother gave her the answer she needed. Perhaps her brother had chosen wisely when he hired the men who now surrounded him. Not only would they protect her brother, they would also hunt down Alex and bring him to justice.

  Her lips curved in a quick smile. Henry would be spitting mad when he found out that he couldn’t get rid of her so quickly. She glanced down at the britches she wore. She had spent the better part of the night altering a pair of Henry’s old pants and shirt to fit her slighter form. By wearing men’s clothes, combined with the heavy coat she wore, she hoped to keep her gender disguised at least until they were far enough away from St. Louis, and it would be too late to turn around.

  Her ploy had worked before when she was younger. Many years ago she’d donned Henry’s old clothes when her mother forbade her to watch the men castrate calves. Her mother had been adamant that it was not something for a girl to watch. Her disguise had been successful then, so why not now? This would be her only chance to follow her brother. Once she confronted Henry, he would have no choice but to bring her along. Scanning the hustle and bustle of men and horses along the shoreline, her eyes rested on the keelboat that her brother and his companions had just boarded. Now she only needed to figure out a way to get onto that boat without notice.

  Slowly, she made her way to the docks, keeping her head down and her hands in her coat pockets as she walked. Amid the multitude of people going about their business, no one seemed to take notice of her. She moved between boxes of cargo, making her way toward her objective. If she could somehow manage to get on board the boat without being seen, she could hide among the freight goods until the vessel was well on its way up the Missouri. Her fingers wrapped around the bread she had rolled in a piece of cloth and stuffed into her coat pocket. At least she would have something to eat later on.

  “Hey, boy!”

  Evelyn stopped in her tracks. Her heart leapt up into her throat. Slowly, she looked up to see who had shouted at her so gruffly. She expelled the breath she’d been holding when a young boy scurried past her to stop in front of a burly man wearing a sweat-stained cotton shirt and dirty britches. He looked as though he could lift an ox.

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said eagerly.

  “Take these here sacks up into that there boat.” He pointed to some burlap bags at his feet, then toward the boat Evelyn wanted to board. He tossed a couple of coins into the child’s open hand. The sacks looked much too big and heavy for the one boy to carry.

  “Here, let me help you.” Evelyn quickly stepped up next to the boy, seizing her chance to get on board the boat. She made sure to keep her head down, lest the big burly man noticed her.

  “I ain’t sharing my coins with you,” the boy said in a warning tone, and stuffed the money into the pocket of his b
ritches.

  Evelyn smiled. “I don’t want your coins. I’m only trying to help.” She bent over the sacks, and lifted one end while the boy lifted the other. Despite his surly disposition, he shot her a grateful look.

  By the time they were halfway up the gangplank with a heavy sack between them, perspiration beaded Evelyn’s forehead even in the chill of the morning air. “What is in these sacks?” she groaned, the muscles in her arms burning from exertion.

  The boy shrugged. “Dunno. Gunpowder, most likely.”

  Evelyn stepped off the plank and into the boat, when a dark figure blocked her way. He was clad in buckskins and a fur coat that seemed much to heavy an article to wear in early May. She shot a hasty glance at the bushy-faced man, whose head was covered by a coonskin cap, then lowered her gaze just as quickly. A foul odor that reminded her of a decaying chicken and rotten eggs emanated from the man’s clothing and Evelyn coughed, trying to keep the bile from rising up her throat.

  “Allow me,” the man said, his words laced with a thick French accent, and without waiting for a reply from either her or the boy holding the other end of the sack, grabbed hold of their burden.

  “Run along, boy,” the Frenchman said brusquely, nodding to the boy. Wide-eyed, and with a hint of fear in his eyes, the youth turned and darted from the boat. For a spilt second, Evelyn thought to follow him. The man’s dark stare seemed to seep right through her, and her throat went dry. She was almost sure that he was one of the men she had seen standing with her brother at the dock earlier. Was he one of Henry’s hired men?

  The man dropped the sack to the ground. His hand snaked out and he wrapped his fingers around Evelyn’s wrist. She pulled back reflexively and dug her heels into the slick wooden planks of the boat’s deck.

  “You should not be lifting such heavy burdens, mademoiselle,” the Frenchman said, leaning toward her. Evelyn’s heart jumped, and she sucked in a deep breath. Her head shot up, and she stared into the man’s black eyes. His mustache twitched, and his lips curved in a leering smile.

  “Release me,” Evelyn hissed, bracing against the man’s hold on her wrist. Although not painful, his grip was nevertheless firm as if she’d been shackled in irons.

  “Do not draw attention to yourself,” the man warned in a low tone. “Even a blind man can see that you are not a boy. Why would a beautiful woman disguise herself as a man?”

  “That, sir, is of no concern to you,” Evelyn said between gritted teeth, still pulling against the man’s unyielding grip.

  “You plan to stow away on this boat. What will you do when you are found out?” The man raised a bushy eyebrow. He jutted his chin toward the deck behind her. Evelyn didn’t need to turn her head to know there were only men aboard this vessel. “You will be a most welcome surprise to twenty eager men.”

  Evelyn groaned silently. How had this man seen through her disguise so easily? Her heart sank. Her plan had failed. The best she could hope for now was to free herself of this man’s clutches and leave. Perhaps she could find another boat that would travel up the Missouri, and catch up with her brother that way. Looking into the Frenchman’s hardened features, the meaning of his words suddenly became crystal clear to her.

  “I ask you again to release me,” Evelyn said with all the confidence she could muster. Her eyes darted around the boat. Perhaps if she spotted Henry, she could call out to him and he would save her from this man’s clutches. Instead of doing what she asked, the Frenchman yanked her closer. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath.

  “Tell me why you are on this boat,” he demanded.

  “Very well,” Evelyn huffed. “My brother is on board,” she answered truthfully. “I only wish to join him. He is all the family I have left. He means to leave me behind while he goes off in search of the man who killed our parents. He gave me in marriage to a man I despise.” She glared up at the unkempt woodsman. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

  The Frenchman studied her for a long moment, his eyes roaming her face. Evelyn shifted her weight from one foot to the other under his unrelenting perusal. “You understand, mademoiselle, that what you are getting yourself into may be far worse than marrying a man you do not love.”

  “Then let me go, and I will return to my home,” Evelyn pleaded. Did she really regret her impulsive decision to follow Henry into the wilderness? She had to admit that this man was telling the truth. What had she been thinking? She’d only wanted to get away from Charles Richardson, but the consequences of her actions hadn’t occurred to her. Until now.

  The Frenchman’s smile widened. Surprisingly, his teeth looked white and clean, even if he did stink as if he hadn’t bathed in years.

  “Laurent Berard at your service, mademoiselle,” he said, and bowed slightly. He still held to her wrist. “I offer you my service as your chaperone, until you choose to reveal your presence to your brother.”

  Evelyn’s eyebrows rose. She stared in stunned disbelief. Was he joking with her?

  “Why would you offer me your protection?” she asked slowly. Her mind raced, trying to decide whether to trust this man.

  “You are the sister of Henry Lewis, are you not?” the Frenchman asked, and casually led her away from the side of the boat. Evelyn stood her ground for a moment, but when the man tugged firmly on her wrist, she took a step toward him.

  “Yes,” she said softly. So he was one of Henry’s men. Somehow this gave her courage. If Henry trusted this man to lead him into the wilderness, then shouldn’t she trust him as well? He hadn’t seemed all that threatening. He’d simply warned her, and reminded her that her plan might be less feasible than what she had envisioned. Truth be told, she had no idea what to expect on this journey. Perhaps a chaperone, someone to protect her, was just what she needed.

  “You will continue to act as a boy,” Laurent said in a low tone, his eyes darting around, seemingly watching everyone around them simultaneously. “You will remain here with the cargo, comprenez-vous?” He gave her a hard stare. Evelyn nodded.

  “Tres bon,” the Frenchman said, his lips twitching. “In a few days’ time, I will inform your brother of your presence here on board. By then, he will not be able to turn you away. In the meantime, do not look at anyone, or speak to anyone.”

  Evelyn nodded again. She couldn’t believe her turn of good luck. Despite this man’s gruff appearance and obvious lack of personal hygiene, he seemed genuinely kind and helpful. Perhaps he hoped that Henry would pay him extra for taking care of her.

  ****

  “Of all the foolhardy things you have ever done, Evie, this one takes the cake,” Henry almost yelled, his angry red face inches from hers. His eyes darted from her to Laurent, who stood several feet behind her, and lowered his voice. “What on earth are you thinking?”

  “I refuse to marry Charlie, Henry. If you’re going after Alex, then I want to go with you.” Evelyn stood her ground, her hands clenched firmly at her sides. For the last three days, Laurent Berard had kept her secret. He watched over her, brought her food and water, and made sure no one came too close to her to realize she was not a boy. He had apparently decided that it was time to relinquish his responsibility as chaperone to her brother.

  Henry’s reaction was no less than Evelyn had expected. He was livid. She had never seen him so angry, even after the grief of their parents’ death had eased, and when he cursed Alex Walker to hell and back. The six other men he had hired stood off to the side, their heads together, whispering amongst themselves. One man glared at Evelyn, an almost evil grin on his face, and an unmistakable hungry look in his eyes. She averted her gaze, feeling trapped like a mouse in a barn full of cats.

  Henry’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened even more. His upper body tensed, and for a moment Evelyn wondered if he was about to strike her. Instead, he abruptly turned, and rubbed at his jaw with his right palm. He spun back around to face her, and shot a murderous look at Laurent.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Evie,”
he finally said. His voice had calmed considerably. “I was trying to look out for you when Charlie asked for your hand in marriage. Coming into the wilderness is dangerous to say the least. A woman here is unthinkable.”

  “I want to be with you, Henry,” Evelyn said and stepped up to her brother. She placed her hand on his arm. “You’re the only family I have left. I don’t care about the dangers.”

  Henry sucked in a deep breath. “All right,” he finally said, and offered a tentative smile. “Let me . . . let me talk to these men.” He gestured with his chin over his shoulder in the direction of his hired help. “I’ll no doubt have to pay them extra to bring you along, but I don’t see an alternative at the moment.”

  Evelyn flung herself at her brother and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Henry,” she whispered. “I won’t be a burden to you. I’ll stay out of trouble.”

  Henry peeled her away from him, and shot her a look that told her in no uncertain terms that he didn’t believe a word of what she said. Several of the men behind him sniggered. The one who’d been leering at her licked his lips. Evelyn stepped away from her brother and looked in another direction.

  “Go back to where you’ve been hiding out, Evie. It’s already getting dark. We’ll talk more in the morning.” He shot a meaningful look toward Laurent, who nodded. Taking her arm, the Frenchman led her away from her brother.

  “That went very well, don’t you think?” Laurent asked cheerfully as he led her back to the cargo area.

  Evelyn sank to the ground between several burlap sacks, satisfied that Henry agreed to take her with him. She relaxed against a bag. She had barely closed her eyes, when gunshots and loud shouting startled her out of her contentment.

  “Laurent?” She sprung to her feet. The Frenchman was no longer at her side. Stumbling over a crate in the dimming evening light, she looked ahead to the front of the boat. Men ran in all directions, shouting and firing their weapons.