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

by Peggy L Henderson

  Standing over him, Joseph clenched and unclenched his jaw. The man rubbed at his neck, and looked up. A grimace formed on his face. He was the same man Joseph had seen along the Ohio and again in St. Louis.

  “You’re a lot better than I gave you credit for, Walker,” he rasped. “At times I had some serious doubts about you.”

  Joseph’s brows drew together. “Where’s Sophie?” he demanded.

  The man laughed. “She’s safe.”

  Joseph reached down and grabbed the man by his shirt, hauling him up on his feet again. Blood trickled from under the tear in the man’s shirtsleeve. Joseph bared his teeth at his opponent.

  “My patience is running thin.”

  “Miss Yancey is being taken care of for the moment,” the man said. “She took a nasty hit to the head and will probably have a mighty big headache for a few days, but I think she’ll recover. Same with the knife wound in her arm.”

  Joseph clenched his jaw. Sophie was hurt?

  “Where is she?”

  “I left her with an old hermit who lives further up along this mountain with his son. I met them several days ago. I was trying to pick up Sabin’s trail. It led me to that Indian village.”

  There was only one person who lived in these mountains who could be considered a hermit. Jasper Williams. It was a miracle Jasper hadn’t shot this man. The old mountain goat didn’t let anyone within a hundred yards of his cabin. That he had a son was news to him.

  Joseph’s eyes narrowed. “Keep talking, mister. Who are you?”

  “My name is Nathan Gibson. I’ve been following Oliver Sabin since I arrived here in the Tetons. The man is more elusive than a cougar, and unfortunately I’m not familiar with these mountains.”

  Joseph recovered quickly from his initial shock. These were the last words he expected to hear. He eased up on the man’s shirt.

  “You’ve been following Sabin? That still doesn’t explain who you are, and why you’ve been following us. Or why you shot at us a week ago.”

  Nathan laughed. “Believe me, Walker, if I had been shooting at you, you’d be dead right now.”

  Joseph’s forehead wrinkled. “You were aiming for Lucas?”

  Nathan smiled. “There was a man lurking in the bushes while you and the lady were . . . ah. . . occupied. I know a woman can cloud a man’s judgment and alertness, so I thought I’d do you a favor and shoot the guy. It could have been Sabin for all I knew.” He shrugged.

  “You shot my brother.”

  “I know that now. Good thing I wasn’t at my best that day. It was a terrible shot.”

  “I’m still not clear who you are,” Joseph pressed.

  Nathan rubbed at his neck again. “Stop pointing that knife at me, and I’ll explain.”

  Joseph hesitated. Keeping a wary eye on the man, he sheathed his knife. The rifle was far enough away that, if Nathan made a move to grab for it, Joseph could easily overtake him.

  “I’m here at the request of Mr. Byron Yancey, Miss Yancey’s father. He’s already paid me a large advance sum to follow you out of Boston and watch over his daughter. He told me he was worried about Oliver Sabin finding out about her, and he wanted a little extra assurance that the girl made it here alive, and would get home again safely.”

  Yancey had hired a gunman to follow them? Joseph didn’t know whether to be glad or upset with this information. Did the greenhorn really think he’d let anything happen to her? He clenched his jaw. Sabin might have killed her yesterday if this Gibson fellow hadn’t been there.

  “Sophie is my wife. She’s my responsibility. You can take that message home to Yancey.”

  Nathan smiled. “Mr. Yancey told me that might happen, in which case I was to report back to him how his daughter was faring.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you just come to us and tell us who you were?” Irrational anger shot through Joseph. Anger, because Yancey had been correct.

  “I wasn’t even supposed to be seen, Walker. Yancey wasn’t looking to stir trouble between you and him. He only wanted to make sure his daughter was safe.” He paused, then looked at Joseph with a smile on his face. “You’re a much keener observer than I gave you credit for. I didn’t expect to have you see me at the Ohio that day when the boat sank, and I sure as hell didn’t think you’d remember me in St. Louis.” Gibson eyed the flesh wound on his arm. By the looks of it, the bullet had only grazed him.

  “How did you know Sabin was after us? How did Sabin know Sophie is here?” Joseph paced the ground in front of Gibson.

  “Best I can figure is that he was in St. Louis and must have recognized her. He wouldn’t have tried to kill her there, and you were in the company of some pretty impressive men. Men like Sabin are cowards. They won’t strike unless the odds are in their favor.”

  Joseph eyed the man he had assumed was out to kill him or Sophie all these weeks. Despite his annoyance, he found him to be quite likable.

  “If I had gotten a clean shot at him, I would have killed Sabin yesterday, but I couldn’t even see him in that forest by the Indian village. I was already set to step in when that Injun woman attacked Miss Yancey with a knife. All I could think of to do at the time was get her away before he realized he’d shot the wrong woman. I did the only thing I could think of – hide her away up in the mountains and then come back to find you.”

  Joseph reluctantly conceded that the man had made the right decision to flee with Sophie rather than take her to the Indian village. Lucas would have shot this man on sight. He held out his hand. Nathan shook it.

  “Thank you for saving my wife’s life.”

  “You’re not a bad shot,” Nathan remarked, squeezing his injured shoulder. “How’d you know where to aim? I was well concealed.”

  Joseph grinned. “We have our own ways up here in the mountains,” he said. “We should talk about working together to find Sabin, but right now you need to take me to my wife.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Sophia winced. She reached a trembling hand up to touch her pounding head. Slowly, she opened her heavy eyelids. Blinking to clear her blurry vision, she squinted at her surroundings. The coarse hairs of buffalo fur tickled her cheek, and she moved her head. She suppressed a hiss when the movement caused a sharp pain at the back of her skull.

  She faced a wall made of what appeared to be logs and dirt. Where was she? This wasn’t her teepee at the Bannock village. A rush of adrenaline swept through her. Snippets of memories flashed before her. Feather in the Wind had attacked her. The sound of a gunshot, then the woman fell on top of her, and Sophia hit her head against a hard object. Someone had grabbed her. A dun horse. Galloping at breakneck speeds away from the village. That’s all she remembered.

  Cautiously, Sophia turned her head. Her eyes fell to the soft flickering glow of a fire crackling in the large hearth opposite of where she lay. Faint sunlight filtered through a small window partially covered in burlap.

  “You’re awake.” A raspy voice spoke from the foot of the bed. Startled, Sophia scrambled to a sitting position, and grabbed hold of the wall to steady herself. The world around her tilted as she tried to focus her eyes in the direction of the voice.

  A small figure stood watching her. A young boy, dressed in dirty britches and a shirt that looked to have been made for someone three times his size. A large oversized furry cap that looked to be better off buried sat on his head. When their eyes met, the youth dropped his gaze, and moved away from the bed toward the hearth. Reaching for a long metal ladle lying on a crudely built small table in the center of the room, he stirred the contents of an iron pot hanging over the fire. Whatever he had cooking in that pot was enough to make Sophia’s stomach churn. She’d smelled pig slop that gave off a more pleasant aroma.

  “Where am I?” She pulled her legs over the side of the bunk, and stood. The room spun precariously, and a wave of nausea roiled her stomach. The back of her head throbbed to the pounding of her heart.

  She blinked, and glanced at the boy. If she wer
e to guess, she was several inches taller than he. Surely he wasn’t a threat. She darted a nervous glance around the rest of the one-room cabin. Where was the man who had abducted her?

  The boy didn’t respond right away. Finally, he straightened and turned around. His hand reached for the cap on his head, and he adjusted it further forward over his forehead.

  “In the mountains,” came his curt reply. By the rasp in his voice, he sounded like someone with an inflamed throat. Or perhaps his voice was going through the change all boys experienced at a certain age.

  “Where’s the man who brought me here?” Sophia took a step toward the youth. The boy’s gaze met hers, and Sophia stared into startling green eyes. Quickly, he ducked away from her and lowered his head.

  “Gone off. Said he had to find someone.”

  He had gone to find Sabin! Sophia’s heart lurched in her chest. Joseph had been right. The man had brought her here to serve her up to the monster who killed her parents.

  “I need to leave here,” she said, her voice cracking. She moved toward the door, her head still spinning. She swayed slightly on her feet. How was she going to find her way back to Joseph? How far had that man taken her? She didn’t even know where she was.

  The boy darted in front of her and blocked her way. “He also said to make sure you stay put.”

  “Get out of my way,” Sophia demanded.

  “I ain’t lettin’ you outta this cabin.” He pulled a pistol from his belt and pointed it at her chest.

  Sophia glared from the gun to the boy’s face. Dirt and grime covered his cheeks, but she detected a certain softness in his eyes that belied his determined stance.

  “Please. I know you don’t want to hurt me. That man will be back to kill me. I need to leave here.”

  The boy studied her from under the bushy cap he wore. “My pa told me to keep you here. Not to let you leave.”

  “Your pa?” Sophia’s forehead wrinkled. Nothing made sense anymore. Who was the man who Joseph said had been following them? Surely he wasn’t this boy’s father.

  “Who brought me here?” she finally asked.

  “Man said his name’s Nathan Gibson. Said to keep you here, that he’d be back.”

  “And your pa?”

  “He’ll be along soon.” The boy motioned with his gun. “Get back there on that bed. I’d just as soon tie you up if you don’t listen.”

  “You’re making a big mistake,” Sophia said, gritting her teeth. Was there a chance that she could wrestle that gun away from the boy without either of them getting hurt? How much time had passed since she’d been brought here? For all she knew, Oliver Sabin could be right outside the door. Did Joseph even know that she’d been abducted? Maybe he and his father were still searching for Sabin. A small spark of hope sprang to life in her. Perhaps they had found him, and he was no longer a threat.

  “Wouldn’t be the first mistake I’ve ever made,” the boy grumbled, and motioned with the gun again. “Now get back over there. Supper’s almost ready.”

  Sophia took a tentative step toward the bed. The idea of eating what was in that pot didn’t sound enticing.

  “I hope you know how to shoot that weapon, because if Oliver Sabin shows up here, you’re going to need it,” she warned. She studied the boy for a reaction to the name. Was there a possibility that this youth was in league with a killer?

  The boy laughed. “You think I’m some greenhorn? A person don’t survive here in these mountains without knowing how to shoot.” His eyes drew together and he leaned slightly forward. “You tellin’ me you don’t know how to shoot?”

  “No, I don’t.” Sophia lifted her chin. “I’ve never had a reason to learn.” It might be too late for her now, but she vowed it was the first thing Joseph would have to teach her if she made it out of this cabin alive.

  “What sort of Injun are you?” the boy shot her an incredulous look. He shook his head and chuckled.

  “The kind who was raised in Boston,” Sophia retorted. She didn’t owe this rude young man an explanation. By his reaction, he had never heard of Sabin before.

  “You sure don’t talk like an Injun.” The boy lowered his gaze, but kept his weapon pointed at her.

  “My mother was Bannock. I was raised as a white woman in Boston. That man has gone to bring another man here who wants to kill me. He also killed my parents.”

  The boy’s head shot up, and he looked at her again. Indecision was written in his eyes. Sophia’s hopes rose.

  “Please. You have to help me.”

  The boy’s head darted to the door, then back to her. “My pa’ll be back any minute. You can tell him what you told me. That Nathan fella seemed like an honest sort. He didn’t strike me as being shifty.”

  “He’s already shot at me twice. Now he’s going to find his accomplice. Please, help me get out of here. I just want to get back to my husband.”

  The youth narrowed his eyes. “Who’s your husband?”

  “Joseph Walker. He’s a white man. Perhaps you even know him.”

  “Walker? Don’t know no Joseph, but my pa speaks highly of another man named Walker.”

  “Yes, that must be Joseph’s father. You have to believe me, and let me go.”

  “I told you. When my pa gets back. In the meantime, we can eat. I hope they fed you whistle pigs in Boston, cause that’s all I got to serve you.”

  Sophia opened her mouth to ask what a whistle pig was despite her frustration, when loud voices reached her ears from outside. Several shots quickly followed the disturbance. The boy rushed to the window, and peered out, his gun raised.

  “Pa,” he yelled in a high pitched voice, and darted for the door. Before he could open it, the heavy wood creaked, and the door burst open, banging against the wall. A man dressed in grimy leather britches and shirt rushed in. He wore a wool cap, and a leather patch covered his left eye.

  The boy pointed his gun at the man, who raised his arm and in one swift motion, backhanded the youth with such force that the boy was launched against the bunk. He sank to the ground and remained motionless. His pistol flew from his hand, and landed under one of the chairs by the table.

  Sophia’s hand shot to her mouth. She backed up until her heel made contact with the stones of the hearth. The man glared at her, a wide evil smirk spread across his face. His one eye blazed in triumph, and he pulled a knife from his belt.

  Sophia’s heart pounded up into her throat. The heat from the fire behind her was almost unbearable, but she dared not move as she stared into the face of her parents’ killer.

  “I’ve waited a long time for this.” A leery smile spread over Oliver Sabin face, and he advanced on her.

  Fear such as she’d never experienced before paralyzed Sophia to the spot where she stood. Sabin grabbed her arm and pulled her up against him. He held his knife to her throat. Sophia lifted her chin to lessen the sting of the sharp tip into her skin, and choked on the vile stench of a man in need of a bath.

  “Your mother had that same look in her eyes just before I put a bullet in her head.” He leered at her, and ran the blade of his knife along Sophia’s cheek. “You look just like her.”

  The tip of the knife indented the skin just below her lashes, and Sophia held her breath. If she moved at all, the knife would pierce her eye.

  “Plum shame I killed her right away. That sonofabitch, Laurent, could have watched while I enjoyed his woman for a while.”

  Sabin’s eye roamed over her face. “But now I have you. I told Laurent I would destroy his family after I put a bullet in his gut. He thought he could hide you away, but I always knew you’d show up again some day. Couldn’t believe it when I saw you in St. Louis.” He let the cold blade slide in circular patterns along her cheek. “Probably wouldn’t have recognized you if not for them leather britches you were wearing. I noticed you with that fella and kid when you were wearing some fancy garb, but later when you had on them britches, ya looked just like the Injun woman I remember killin’ twenty years ago
.”

  The knife slid along her jaw and over her lips. Sophia dared not move. Her mouth had gone dry and her heart pounded painfully up into her throat. Sabin’s grip tightened on her arm, his fingers biting into the wound she had received from Feather in the Wind. Someone had wrapped a bandage around the arm, she realized amidst her fear.

  “What a pretty face,” Sabin taunted, and leaned closer. “It’d be a shame if my knife slipped, and I cut it up a little. Or maybe I should take your eye out, just like your father did to me.”

  Sophia swallowed back the bile that rose up her throat.

  “Joseph Walker will kill you,” she said in a low tone. Her eyes narrowed, and she refused to look away from the evil man’s stare. Anger and hatred replaced her initial terror of this man. Listening to him talk about how he had murdered her parents ignited a wave of rage inside her. If not for him, her entire life would have turned out differently. She loved Byron Yancey, but she never had the chance to know her real parents. Because of Sabin, she was denied the experience of growing up in these beautiful wild mountains. Instead, she’d been deprived of the freedom she so craved while confined to the harsh rules imposed on her by Boston society.

  Had she lived here all her life, she wouldn’t feel so helpless now. She would have learned all the things she needed in order to survive and defend herself, Even a young boy had laughed at her for not knowing how to shoot a pistol. Instead, this vile man had robbed her of a mother and her real father, and of a life she was only just beginning to understand.

  Sabin threw his head back, and laughed. “I still have an old score to settle with another Walker. Maybe I’ll start with his son. After I’m finished with you.”

  He leaned closer, and Sophia recoiled from his horrid breath. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head as far to the side as possible. How was she going to defend herself against this madman? He might kill her today, but he would not get the satisfaction of watching her cower. Somehow she would inflict as much damage on him as she could before she died.

  Sophia opened her eyes and glanced around for anything to use as a weapon. Her gaze fell to the cast iron kettle hanging over the fire, right before movement from the ground by the bunk caught her eye. The boy was regaining consciousness. With a loud groan, he sprang to his feet and threw himself at Sabin’s back. In the next instance, Sabin swayed away from Sophia. The boy wrapped his arms around the much larger man’s neck. Sabin cursed loudly and wheeled around, stabbing his knife wildly through the air. The limber small body clung to Sabin’s back with the ferocity of a mountain lion.