Badlands Bride

by Cheryl St. John

  "It makes me nervous," she said, but she followed di­rections. His massive arms reached around her effortlessly and her attention focused on his fingers fastening the buckle over her breasts.

  "I know you can shoot it," he said, pointedly ignoring their physical closeness. "Somebody somewhere has a bul­let hole you put there."

  "Am I going to need it?"

  His blue eyes met her gaze. "I don't know, Hallie. I'm giving it to you for your protection, as well as ours. That's the way it is out here. We look out for each other."

  She studied the grim line of his lips, stern but sensual, and her thoughts inconveniently slid to the kiss they'd shared. "Okay," she said.

  He looked up and caught her expression. Did he know what she'd been thinking? She thought so, because he fin­ished the task quickly and with deliberate care.

  Jack and Cooper had placed sideboards on one of the wagons and stretched a tarp to shield the bed. Hallie climbed in beside shovels, ropes and buckets and made room for Chumani, Yellow Eagle and Jack. Ferlie and Cooper rode on the seat above.

  The wagon groaned, the harnesses clinked and they were on their way. It took longer than she expected to reach the sunken Concord. Hallie peered from beneath the protection of the tarp. As Ferlie had related, the coach sat up to its hubs in mud.

  Cooper appeared at the back of the wagon, his expression unreadable. He shrugged out of the slicker, tossed it in on the floor and stripped his buckskin shirt over his head. In seconds he wore nothing but the leather flap that revealed his muscular buttocks. He reached for the shovels and ges­tured to Hallie.

  No one else paid any mind to the fact that he'd stripped, so Hallie avoided staring at his body and followed him through the pelting rain.

  "You stand watch over there," he said, pointing to a rise a few hundred feet from the wagon. "But don't stand near the grove of trees." Already his wet body glistened in the gray dawn light.

  "Why not?"

  "Lightning."

  "Oh."

  The rain darkened his hair. "If you see anyone in any direction, don't shoot, just run back."

  "All right."

  He walked away and she forced herself not to stare. How logical, she thought. Rather than waste the effort of trying to keep clothing dry, he'd removed it.

  Day arrived, but Hallie wasn't sure how much time had passed. There was no sun to judge by, and the progress on digging the slippery mud away from the stage was pains­takingly slow. Jack had stripped to his trousers and Ferlie had cast aside his slicker. The three men dug. Chumani car­ried the heavy pails away and dumped them. Sometimes Ferlie or Jack stopped digging to help her.

  Hallie scanned the horizon, the butte to her right, and the grove of trees. Even beneath the low-hanging gray sky the land possessed a haunting beauty all its own. Its magnitude was still as overwhelming as the first time she'd seen it.

  With that realization came another, ultimately more dis­turbing. Two weeks had slipped past and she hadn't con­tacted the brides even once! That's why she'd come in the first place! Cooper would have every right to doubt her cred­ibility. Fine day to think of it, she scoffed at herself. When the weather cleared, she'd have to make time to do her interviews and work on the story.

  For a few minutes she watched Chumani lugging full buckets.

  They'd been at the job for hours. She slipped and fell, and Hallie ran to help her. "Let me do this for a while." Hallie insisted, and pointed to her post. "You go watch."

  Gratefully, Chumani turned and headed away.

  "Wait, you need the gun." Hallie opened her slicker.

  Chumani opened hers to reveal a holster on her hip.

  "Oh." She gave the woman an encouraging smile. "Okay. You go rest awhile." She made the sign for sit. Chumani nodded and hurried away.

  The mud grabbed at Hallie's feet with loud sucking sounds, pulling her into its depths and making walking a challenge. Hallie managed to pick up two buckets.

  "Hallie?" Cooper paused in his digging and leaned on the shovel handle. He stood in the knee-high hole he'd dug around the wheel, his hair plastered to his head and back, his massive chest heaving with exertion. He was covered in mud from his feet to his lean thighs, and as he paused, rivulets ran downward over corded muscle. Hallie raised her eyes. The unceasing downpour had kept his shoulders and back clean. He blinked moisture from clear blue eyes.

  "Chumani needed a break." She pointed to the rise. "She's watching."

  Something like approval flickered in his expression. "An­other hour or so and we'll stop a few minutes to eat. Glad you ate this morning?"

  "Am I ever." Slipping and sliding, she hauled the buck­ets away. Every time she returned more had been filled. The slicker made her progress slow and the gun lay like an anvil against her ribs. Ferlie, buckskin shirt and pants plastered to his bowlegged frame, paused in his digging to help her haul.

  Finally Cooper called a break, and they sat huddled be­neath the tarp, chewing stringy beef jerky and damp bread.

  "Soon as we get back out there and scrape the pits out fresh," Cooper said, "we'll hitch the team up and pull her out. Ferlie, you take the team. Jack, watch the holes for slides, and you—" he turned to Chumani, his nephew and Hallie "—will push from behind with me."

  "Us?" Hallie squeaked.

  "It's not one person's strength that matters," he said. "It's all of us together."

  "Who will keep watch if we're all at the stage?" she asked.

  "We'll scan the area before we start," he said.

  The others made themselves comfortable for the few minutes of rest.

  "Don't you have a story you'd like to point out to me now?" he asked, leaning back against the side of the wagon. He raised one knee and Hallie had to deliberately resist looking at the damp flesh revealed by his pose. Wasn't the rough wagon bed uncomfortable against his bare skin?

  She forced herself to sound natural. "What do you mean?"

  "You usually have a story to compare with."

  "Oh, well, not for this one." She hadn't thought he'd ever been listening. He wasn't really, he just thought she was silly and was making fun of her. She glanced at the others, but they were absorbed in eating or resting. "I didn't think you paid any attention."

  "I pay attention." His eyes telegraphed a message she didn't understand, and then darted over the gray landscape. "I'd better go have a look around. Then we'll get started again."

  Hallie focused on the pile of rope and not on him as he walked away. She raised her gaze to Chumani. A specula­tive smile hovered on the woman's lips. They exchanged a grin.

  "Damned rain'll probably wash us all to Mexico if n we don't get out there and haul that Concord outa them gullies we dug." Having caught his second wind, Ferlie led them from the wagon.

  The men positioned the mules ahead of the coach and fastened them into their traces, all the while talking to them, touching them and running their hands over their rain-dark coats. Thunder rumbled, and the men calmed the skittish animals.

  Hallie and Yellow Eagle carried as many sticks and rocks as they could find and placed them behind the stage for solid footing.

  Everyone took their places, Ferlie on the high seat, Jack watching the wheels with a shovel in hand, and the rest of them behind the boot. Cooper stationed himself in the cen­ter, his back and shoulders to the rig, his hands cupping the bottom. "When I give the call, shove for all you're worth," he instructed.

  Hallie took a place between Cooper and Yellow Eagle. What would they do if this didn't work? They'd spent the whole day digging. She supposed they could stand guard over the coach until the rain stopped and the ground dried up. But who knew how long that would take?

  "H'yah!" Cooper shouted, startling Hallie. She recog­nized the sound of the whip, and Ferlie's colorful admoni­tions rang out. The coach creaked and she leaned into it with all her weight.

  Beside her, Cooper used his powerful leg muscles to push. The veins in his neck stuck out, his shoulders and arms bulged with the strain.
The stage inched upward. With­out letting go, he turned and continued to lean his weight into the effort with a shoulder.

  Hallie's own arms ached, and she scrambled for footing on the slippery rocks. Breathless grunts and straining growls broke the monotonous sound of rain on the ground. The whip cracked again, followed by a chain of curses and the braying of a mule.

  At last the coach lunged away, and Hallie fell face first into the slippery ooze. The cold caught her by surprise and she inhaled quickly, choking on the mouthful of mud. She spat and sat on her heels to wipe her eyes. Lengths of hair, fallen from her chignon during the day's struggle, lay sod­den against her neck and face.

  Ferlie led the team to higher ground. Jack ran ahead and steadied the mules. Cooper staggered to a halt.

  Cold and wet, covered with mud from head to toe and her bladder near to bursting, Hallie thought of her comfort­able home back in Boston, the nice warm newspaper office and the meals served to her on primrose china. Maybe she could have tried a little harder to earn her father's respect. Or maybe she should have accepted Evan Hunter with a grain of salt and gone on the way she always had. Maybe she could have swallowed her pride and given a second look at one of those pale, boring young men her father pushed at her.

  Ferlie jumped down and caught sight of Hallie.

  "Whoo-ee, missy!" His amused cackle rang out across the countryside.

  Beside her, panting with exertion, Chumani and Yellow Eagle giggled.

  Cooper turned, and his eyes widened. His obvious attempt not to laugh struck Hallie as funny.

  Though shivering and filthy, she saw the humor in her ungraceful position and her whole situation. She could only imagine what she must look like. Wobbling to stand, she laughed at herself, and the others joined in.

  The men harnessed horses to the wagon they'd brought and Chumani gathered the shovels and buckets. Hallie sluiced mud from her face and slicker while already the rain had begun to rinse her clean.

  Miserable, she glanced around. She wouldn't be able to endure the bumpy ride home without relieving herself. Glancing over her shoulder, she headed for the stand of gnarled trees that grew beside a windswept butte. No one would notice if she left for just a minute.

  Hallie made certain she wasn't visible from the wagon and tended to her need. As she arranged her clothing, a new sound arrested her attention. Twigs snapped and heavy breathing met her ears.

  Mortified that someone should have seen her at such an indelicate task, she scrambled to pull her soggy clothes in place. Her heart pounded. She'd sat watch all day and when they least expected it, when she hadn't been watching, the outlaws showed up. It was her fault that their lives were now in danger. Her soaked pantaloons bunched at her thighs and wouldn't pull up.

  The breathing and peculiar grunts grew louder. Panicked, Hallie fumbled with her wet slicker and drew the heavy weapon from the holster. Cooper had told her not to shoot, just to run for him, but that had been in the case that she saw them from a distance. Now they were right on top of her! As clumsy as she was in this mud, and with her drawers halfway up, she would never outrun them.

  An enormous dark shape lumbered into view several feet away. Hallie's heart stopped altogether. Her ears hummed with sheer fright. The animal sat back on its haunches and sniffed the air with a pointed black snout.

  A grizzly!

  Paralyzed, Hallie wasted valuable seconds quaking where she stood. Her heart chugged to life, hammering against her breast like a wild thing. A scream shaped itself in her throat and lanced the air in a shrill, pulsating shriek of pure terror.

  The bear swung his ponderous head and stood on hind feet, pawing the air. Hallie saw eight feet of wet brown fur, long talonlike claws and more jagged, snarling teeth than she could count.

  The animal's snout twisted from side to side, and a soul-chilling roar effectively sliced off her frantic screams. Hallie finally remembered the gun in her hand and raised it. The weapon trembled in her grip, but self-preservation forced her to aim it at the growling animal. It took two hands to steady the barrel and squeeze the trigger.

  The shot reverberated off the surrounding countryside and jerked her off-balance.

  Enraged, the animal dropped to the ground and lumbered toward her. Hellfire! Hallie didn't know whether to shoot again or attempt to run. She was dead either way. She stood her ground and pulled the trigger.

  Another shot echoed seconds behind hers. The bear stopped in its tracks and stumbled to a halt.

  A third shot rang out from behind her, and the bear lay motionless.

  Quivering, Hallie turned. Cooper lowered his rifle and walked toward her, rain sluicing over his sleek body.

  She looked back at the dead animal and nausea rose in her throat. Black spots floated in front of her eyes and she weaved where she stood.

  Cooper caught her effortlessly before she fell. He sat her on the ground and forced her head between her knees, which wasn't easy with soggy petticoats and drawers bunched there. The revolver was removed from her limp fingers and she stayed that way for a few minutes, resting until her breath came easily. She raised her head and he caught her hood before it exposed her to the rain. Her eyes were huge and luminous, the gray-rimmed irises reflecting her dismay.

  Her earsplitting screams had raised the hair on his neck. He was grateful for the screams. Grateful for enough warn­ing to grab his rifle and get there before it had been too late. His heart had pounded when he'd seen the maddened grizzly ready to pounce on her slight form in the oversize slicker.

  But, true to her remarkable character, she'd plugged at least one bullet into the beast's hide. That had only made it madder, but at least she'd done something. If he hadn't ar­rived when he had, she'd have been ripped to shreds. The alarm he experienced over that thought distressed him as much as the thought itself.

  "Whoo-ee!" Ferlie cackled, stomping up behind them. "Whatcha gonna do with your bear, missy? We gonna have steaks tonight?"

  Her eyes widened even farther. "My—my bear?"

  "Your bear," Cooper confirmed. "We'll clean him for you, of course. Make a nice rug for her parlor, won't he, Ferlie?"

  "Could hang 'im on your bedroom wall and wake up to 'im ever' mornin'," Ferlie suggested, picking up on Coo­per's teasing.

  Hallie, face streaked and hair caked with mud, narrowed her lovely eyes at them.

  Chumani moved forward, knife in hand, and approached the animal.

  "What's she going to do?" Hallie asked, her lips turning white.

  "Leave his innards here," Cooper explained. "Coyotes won't follow us home if we leave 'em dinner."

  "Oh, my…" She rose and staggered.

  "Come on." He lifted her into his arms and walked to­ward the coach and wagon. "You wait in the stage for us."

  "In the stage?"

  "Yes. Unless you think we ought to let the bear ride there."

  "Oh, no. I didn't think…"

  He paused for her to twist the handle and deposited her inside the Concord.

  "Cooper?"

  "What?"

  "Thank you. For saving my life, I mean. I'd be dead if you hadn't shot that bear."

  "You're welcome, but Hallie?"

  "What?"

  "Please tell someone before you traipse off from now on."

  "Oh. Sure." Sheepishly, she settled back on the leather seat. "I'm dripping all over the upholstery."

  "Better you than the bear." She looked up and he winked. "It'll clean up." He handed the revolver back to her and closed the door.

  "Cooper?"

  He peered through the window.

  "Could I borrow your knife, too?"

  "What for?"

  "Just loan me your knife."

  He pulled it from its sheath at his waist. "It's sharp."

  She took it, handle first, yanked her skirts up, sliced her pantaloons off and tossed them through the window into the mud. Handing the knife back, she said, "Thank you."

  Cooper took it and glanced from her to the garment on
the ground. "Always thought all those clothes were more trouble than necessary."

  "Next time I think I might come face-to-face with a griz­zly, I'll leave my underclothing at home." She leaned back against the leather seat and covered her face with her hands. "My mother would absolutely die."

  He chuckled and walked away.

  Everyone's good mood was contagious. Their trip had been successful, and along with bringing the Concord back, they had a good supply of meat for the coming winter. But the best part, Hallie noted, was that Yellow Eagle ignored her with a bit more respect.

  Missing was the usual sneer or rolling of eyes when someone spoke to her or about her. He even assisted Cooper in hauling a half barrel into the house and placing it beside the kitchen stove.

  "What's this?" Hallie asked.

  "Thought you could use a warm bath after today," Coo­per replied. The two left several times and returned with water.

  The thought of settling into a warm tub revived her and she eagerly heated the water on the stove.

  "What about you?" she asked Cooper after Yellow Eagle left. "You could use a hot bath, too."

  "I'm used to the weather," he replied.

  She dipped her fingers in the tub and let the water trickle back. "It feels go-od," she said in a singsongy voice of temptation.

  He glanced pointedly at the tub. "I wouldn't fit in that barrel."

  She looked over her shoulder. "Oh. So you wouldn't."

  He took a step away.

  "You could stand in it and lather up, then rinse off using one of the pans," she suggested.

  "It would make an awful mess."

  "It'll clean up," she said, echoing his words about the coach.

  "We'll see." He headed for the door. "Call me when you're finished."

  "Where will you be? Will you hear me?"

  "I'll wait outside."

  "That's silly. It's still pouring out there."

  "I've been in the rain all day, Hallie. What's a few drops more?"

  "Well, it's cooling down now. You'll catch cold."

  "I've never had a cold in my life." He exited the door, closing it firmly behind him.

  Hallie stripped wet clothing from skin covered with gooseflesh and lowered herself into the steaming water. It felt wonderful. River bathing was nice in fair weather, but Cooper didn't know what he was missing. The hot water soothed her aching muscles and relaxed her. She closed her eyes and sank deeper into the tub, enjoying the warmth.