Abby smiled. “Are you offering to be my guardian?”
“More like a friendly protector.”
Even though Bryce might be developing a personal interest in her, he would be inflexible when it came to anything that affected his job as commander of the fort. Since it was impossible to separate his desire to do a good job from his determination not to let anything interfere with his hoped-for posting back East, she couldn’t decide how much of his motivation was professional and how much was personal.
“I would never knowingly do anything that would jeopardize the lives of the soldiers,” Abby said.
“I wish more people felt that way.”
“I doubt they understand the consequences of their actions.”
“They understand. They just don’t care. Now we’d better get started if you want to have time to look at those three stores.”
“I want to learn everything I can about shopkeeping. I hope to open more stores someday.”
After living in St. Louis, Abby didn’t think Boulder Gap was much of a town. Its streets were muddy, its buildings rough wood, and its character coarse. Every other building was a saloon that specialized in crooked gambling, excessive drinking, loose women, or all three. It seemed to be populated principally by men who had little or no acquaintance with personal hygiene. The people who appeared to be honest citizens hurried on their way, looking neither left nor right. Abby was glad Bryce had come with her today. The way some men looked at her made her feel queasy. She could understand why Bryce had decreed that no woman should make the trip unaccompanied by her husband. She also found him a great help when it came to looking through the stores. He seemed to know what she should stock and what she should sell only by special order.
“I have Pamela to thank for much of this information,” Bryce confessed as they were leaving the last store, a mercantile devoted mainly to supplying miners. “We have very little to talk about during meals except her lessons and what the other families at the fort are doing.”
“She’s a very bright little girl,” Abby said.
“Big girl,” Bryce reminded her with what she was certain was the smile of a proud father. “She’s seven now.”
“And very able to speak her mind.”
”Too able. She needs a mother.”
Abby felt an instant irritation. “And how would having a mother cause her to speak her mind less?”
“A mother would turn her mind toward the things that concern women, not the matters that concern men. I want my daughter to grow up to be a lady,” Bryce said. Since he was occupied leading the horse from the stable where it had spent the day and hitching it to the buggy, Abby couldn’t see his expression. He helped her into the buggy, and she opened her parasol to protect her complexion from the sun.
“You’ll have to explain that remark,” she said once they were underway. “I don’t understand why a woman who speaks her mind can’t be a lady.”
“There’s a lot of ugliness in the world,” Bryce said. He was too busy guiding his horse through the tangle of wagons, buggies, horses, and pedestrians to face Abby. “A man must deal with all the evil and unpleasantness, but he wants to keep his wife safe from having to face it, from knowing about it, even from knowing about his struggle to provide for his family. He wants to leave her free to create a haven for him where he can revive his spirits, a safe and loving environment in which to bring up his children, and a place that allows him to believe there is good and beauty in the world.”
Abby loved the idea of being so valued that a man would do everything he could to protect her, to shield her from the dangers and vicissitudes of the world, that he would look to her and the home she created as a place to find the love and support he needed to build his strength. She knew from experience, however, that men felt this way because they believed women incapable of understanding a man’s work. That annoyed her.
“Don’t you think a man and woman should share the important decisions in their lives?” she asked.
“Why waste time duplicating effort? It’s better if men and women divide the work along the lines of what each is best suited to do.”
She might not have objected to that statement if he hadn’t included the phrase what each is best suited to do. She had worked in the bank long enough to know many men who were so lazy and stupid they retained their positions only because there were no other men available to fill them. Their bosses never thought of giving those jobs to women. Everyone knew females were only good for cooking, cleaning, and taking care of children. Abby admired any woman who could successfully take care of a home, husband, and children, but she resented the implication that women couldn’t do anything else. When she’d discovered Albert’s embezzling and confronted him with it, he’d refused to believe she could have figured it out on her own.
“I agree that men and women have different spheres of activity to which they’re more suited by nature,” Abby said, “but I don’t agree that a woman can’t understand a man’s work. How would you like it if I said you weren’t fit to rear your daughter because you’re a man?”
“I’m not sure I am,” Bryce replied. “There are times I’m sure I should have left her with my mother, but she doesn’t want to go back and I don’t want to give her up.”
“You shouldn’t give her up. I wish my father had taken me with him when he came West.”
She’d always felt her father had left her behind because she was a girl. She was certain he’d never have left a son.
“I worry about her all the time,” Bryce said, “about all the things that could happen to her, but I can’t imagine a single day without her.”
Abby felt most of her irritation at Bryce’s attitudes evaporate. Though he had some beliefs she considered old-fashioned, it was hard to be angry with a man who loved his daughter so much he would keep her with him despite any hardships.
“Now you understand why it’s so important that I get posted back East,” Bryce said. “I want Pamela to have the benefit of having a real lady for a mother.”
Abby decided it was a shame some men didn’t know to shut up before they put their foot in their mouth. If her parasol hadn’t been so fragile, she’d have been tempted to hit Bryce over the head with it—even at the risk of his losing control of their horse, the buggy ending up on its side, and the two of them being thrown into the brush.
“I’m sure if you look carefully you’ll find mat, even outside of Philadelphia, there are ladies to be found who will fit your criteria for Pamela’s mother.”
Not being a stupid man—at least, not all the time— Bryce realized he’d made a serious mistake. “I’m sure there are, but I already know people in Philadelphia.”
“Which will naturally make the process of selection faster and easier.”
“Possibly,” he said somewhat warily, clearly aware he was treading on uncertain ground.
“Don’t you consider it important that Pamela like her stepmother?”
“Children don’t always like what’s best for them. It’s more important that her stepmother be a suitable model for her.”
Abby could envision Pamela’s natural curiosity and high spirits suffocated by a stepmother stuffed full of dignity and moral rectitude. “What about your own feelings for your wife?”
“I hope I will be able to respect and admire her, not just for her beauty and excellent taste and style, but for the quality of her mind and her willingness to put the good of the family before her personal desires.”
“You sound as if you’re quoting something you read in a book,” Abby said with more sarcasm than she intended. “Or as if you’re talking about negotiating a business deal.”
“A marriage is a lot like a merger, two people coming together to combine their efforts for the good of all.”
“Is that how you went about finding your first wife?”
“No, and it was a mistake.”
Abby had never heard anyone talk about Bryce’s wife and was unprepared to see his exp
ression harden.
“My wife and I had hardly gotten to know each other when I was ordered to take up a position with the Union forces in Kentucky. I only saw her once more before her death.”
“What do you mean, you’d hardly gotten to know each other? You knew her well enough to fall in love, didn’t you?”
“I married her on impulse. We were totally unsuited to each other.”
Abby felt instant empathy. “I didn’t know the man I thought I wanted to marry as well as I believed,” she said. “I thought he was perfect. Instead he was a petty thief. If it hadn’t been for Moriah and my aunt, I don’t know what I would have done.”
Her confession seemed to have broken down some of Bryce’s reserve. He started to tell her about his wife.
“Margaret was beautiful and high-spirited, but I was sure she’d settle down after we married and she had a child. I didn’t count on the war separating us almost as soon as we married.”
“How did she die?”
“Consumption. The doctors said she didn’t take care of herself properly after Pamela was born. She looked frail when I last saw her, but she was full of energy and high spirits. She didn’t seem at all unhappy that we hadn’t seen each other in more than a year. She encouraged me to return to my duties, but I don’t think she was happy being married to a soldier.”
“It must have been hard.” Men could love a foolish wife just as much as a sensible one.
“It was hard leaving Pamela even though she was only a baby. That’s why I was determined to bring her with me to Fort Lookout.”
“Pamela is happier, I’m sure, because you kept her with you.”
Bryce’s expression lightened. “She’s delighted to have the freedom to do just about anything she likes.”
“It’s not just that,” Abby assured him. “She adores you. She talks about you all the time. She’s always asking me if I think you’ll like this or that. And even though she thinks the Indians are colorful, fascinating, and have been treated very badly, she’s angry at them for putting you in danger.”
“Pamela is protective of everyone she likes. I sometimes wonder if she’s not growing up too fast.”
“I think she’s a delightful little girl. Big girl,” Abby said, correcting herself.
Bryce laughed, then frowned as he glanced at the sky north of them. “I don’t like the look of those clouds,” he said.
“They’re a long way away,” Abby said.
“Sudden storms can come up and cause the temperature to drop fifty degrees in less than an hour. We’ve had patrols trapped in snowstorms before they could get back to the fort.”
“Do you think that storm will get here before we can reach the fort?”
“Yes. We need to look for some sort of shelter.”
The sky had turned from sunny and blue to lead gray filled with blue-black clouds approaching at a fantastic rate of speed. Shelter that could keep them safe and dry in a raging thunderstorm was probably about as easy to find on the prairie as gold. Bryce pulled the buggy off the trail and made for a belt of cottonwoods, maples, and junipers along a creek. “Let’s hope the creek doesn’t flood, or we’ll be in danger of being washed away.”
Abby had learned to be fearful of renegade Indians and lawless white men, but she hadn’t yet experienced Mother Nature as an equally formidable enemy.
“I hope there’s not much lightning,” Bryce said as the buggy bounced wildly over the uneven ground. “Last time we lost several horses.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d wait until after the storm has passed to relate all the horrors of previous ones,” Abby practically shouted over the increasing wind and the squealing, clattering protests of the buggy and the horse’s rigging. “Is it necessary to shake the buggy to pieces, or are you just trying to frighten me?”
“I’m trying to keep you dry,” he said. “I’ll have a hard time explaining to Moriah why I brought you home drenched.”
The first raindrops were so large and driven so hard, they hit Abby’s face with almost the force of a physical blow. They barely made it to the shelter of the cotton-woods before the rain started coming down so heavily it obscured the landscape. Bryce put on the brake and jumped down from the buggy. “Let me help you down.”
“I don’t see how that will help.” Abby had to shout to be heard over the sound of the rain pelting the ground and the leaves of the cottonwoods and maples. “The water will start to drip from the leaves any minute now.” She tightened her hold on her parasol to keep the wind from ripping it from her grasp.
“The leaves spread the water away from the center of the tree,” Bryce said as he opened his saddlebags and took out something that looked like a large folded blanket. “I always carry my rain slicker,” he said, unfolding what looked like a voluminous coat. “It will keep most of the rain off us.”
“There’s only one.”
“We’re going to share it,” he said as he moved to wrap the slicker around both of them. “Until the rain stops, we’re going to be as close as lovers.”
Chapter Twelve
Before she had time to think, Abby found herself standing with her body pressed between a tree trunk and the very hard, very masculine form of Colonel McGregor. She’d never been this close to any man, not even when Bryce tried to teach her to shoot. After the precipitous, jarring ride across the prairie and the arrival of crashing thunder and flashing lightning that seemed directly over her head, she was completely rattled. Shock and surprise cracked wide her normal control. She could only respond according to instinct, according to her body’s natural reaction to a frightening situation and such a close, overwhelming male presence.
“Maybe this parasol of yours will keep some of the water off our heads.” Bryce said.
He had rearranged the slicker over his shoulders and brought it together behind her back. That required that he hold her in a tight embrace, her face pressed against his shoulder, her breasts against his chest, her feet squeezed between his boots. No married man could hold his wife in a more intimate embrace.
A flash of lightning and the following crash of thunder were so close she could feel the electricity in the atmosphere. Her first instinct, which she’d yielded to before she was aware of it, was to throw her arms around Bryce and press as close to him as possible. She had never experienced such a storm in her life. Lightning continued to flash all around them, thunder to crash overhead until she could manage no coherent thought except that she had to cling to Bryce for dear life.
When lightning exploded an ancient cottonwood on the other side of the creek and covered the ground with splinters of wood and shredded leaves, she was certain they would die in each other’s arms. That image was so powerful, so vivid, she couldn’t help wondering what people would say if they found their bodies in an intimate embrace. Did it really matter what others thought? She liked the feel of Bryce’s arms around her, the protection of his strength, the comfort of his body shielding her own. It would be so easy to place her life in the capable hands of someone like him.
But she wasn’t given time to pursue that thought. As if the thunder and lightning weren’t enough to scare her out of her wits, the heavens opened up and hail hurtled down like millions of hard-flung pellets. The noise as it tore the broad, heart-shaped leaves of the cottonwoods was frightening in its volume and intensity.
“Keep your head down,” Bryce shouted. “It will stop in a few minutes.”
The hail hit the rain slicker with such force she expected to hear Bryce grunt from the impact. Resting his chin on her head and raising his shoulders, he shielded her from the tiny ice balls that came down so fast they soon covered the ground. The small, white pellets bounced continuously, making the ground seem virtually alive.
Then, just as quickly, the hail stopped and enormous drops of rain pounded the ground with nearly equal force. It seemed merely minutes before what had been dry prairie was turned to mud. Soon the dry streambed became a rushing torrent of thick brown water carryin
g away twigs, sage brush, torn leaves, and small limbs, at surprising speed.
“If it doesn’t stop soon, the creek will flood,” Bryce said.
The horse was drenched, the sorrel of his coat turned dark brown. He stamped his feet and shook his head to throw off some of the water that poured down on him. The stream continued to rise until it overflowed its banks and covered the low ground in the cottonwood grove.
“Where can we go?” Abby asked as the rain came down unabated.
“We’ll stay right where we are,” Bryce answered. “This bank is the highest piece of ground for some distance.”
Abby didn’t know what he meant by highest ground. As far as she was concerned the prairie was as flat as Aunt Emma’s best platter.
“What if the water reaches the bank?”
“If we get desperate, we can get back in the buggy and head for the fort.”
Abby didn’t know how. The horse was already standing in a foot of water. They’d be soaked through in minutes, but that was better than being washed away by a flood. “Does tins happen often?”
“A few times each year. As soon as the rain stops, the sun will come out By tomorrow you won’t know it even rained.”
Looking at the swirling waters in the creek, that was hard to believe. Yet even now she could seen a strip of blue sky at the far horizon. The storm was moving so quickly she could practically see the strip growing wider. A few minutes later the rain stopped as suddenly as it had started, but they were still surrounded by the swirling, muddy water.
“We’ll have to stay here until the creek goes down,” Bryce said.
“How long will that take?”
“It depends on how much water the storm dumped upstream.”
Now that the rain had stopped and the thunder and lightning had moved away, Abby’s position caused her to feel extremely self-conscious. Yet it wasn’t possible to move from under the trees because everywhere around them was flooded.
“I shouldn’t have stopped here,” Bryce said.
“Where else could you have gone?”
The Independent Bride Page 14
