by Merry Farmer
It felt good to joke, good to rag on the men that had fast become her friends. The camp settled into companionable chatter as the sun went down. Mike pulled out a harmonica, and Billy a mouth harp, and the boys settled into soothing cattle drive songs. Eden and Luke finished cleaning up supper by the time the last light in the sky faded behind the mountains.
“Come on,” Luke whispered to her while the others were distracted. “Grab your bedroll and we’ll turn in for the night.”
There was a glimmer in his eyes that Eden would have seen on the darkest night. She planted her fists on her hips and hissed, “Luke Chance, there are half a dozen men only yards away wherever we lay our heads.”
Luke answered with a guilty chuckle. “Okay, so we can’t actually do anything.” He swaggered closer to her—peeking around to make sure the chuck wagon shadowed them from any roving attention—and swept her into his arms. “That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a little kissing and cuddling.”
He ended his statement with a kiss that lifted Eden off her toes. His body was large and encompassing around her. His hands held her with a firmness and command that she was more than willing to surrender to. His lips played with hers, and his tongue teased between them, exploring and tasting. It was such a relief that Eden risked sighing aloud and pressing closer to him.
“Uh, you two need some privacy?” Lawson called from the far side of the campfire. His question was followed by chuckles and sniggers.
Luke broke their kiss, but kept Eden in his arms. “Let’s set our bedrolls up at the other end of the camp from those yahoos.”
Eden couldn’t help but giggle and go along. She marched back to the camp to collect her things, sticking her tongue out at the men who winked and chuckled and made faces at her and Luke. Let them think whatever they would. Men were funny. If the boys thought she and Luke were getting up to mischief that night, it would probably raise their estimation of Luke even higher.
“I’ll set them straight if you want,” Luke told her once they found a sheltered spot on the far side of the chuck wagon, well away from the others, but close enough to be at the ready if there should be trouble.
“Nah.” Eden brushed his offer away as she pulled off her boots, shrugged out of her jacket, unbuckled her gun belt and set it at the head of her bedroll, then lay down to wrap herself in her blanket. “Let them think what they want. I don’t give a hoot.”
“Me neither.”
Luke kicked off his boots and pulled off his shirt, leaving him in nothing but his trousers. He had set his bedroll on the ground beside Eden’s, but as soon as he lay down and drew the blanket over him, he reached for Eden.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” she giggled as he scooped her around, upending her entire bedroll as he jumbled hers together with his.
“Making a better bedroll,” he answered.
It took a little shimmying, some sitting up and shifting around, and a lot of giggling, but within a few minutes, they’d folded the padding of their bedrolls together and thrown both thin blankets over top of both of them. Eden snuggled against Luke’s side, resting her head on his shoulder and wishing more than anything that there weren’t half a dozen other men within earshot. She was jumpier than a sack-full of frogs and wanted nothing more than to shed her clothes and play hide the snake with her husband. Judging by the way his body heated, he was feeling the same way.
“This was a terrible idea, you realize,” she whispered, careful to be quiet enough that the others—still chatting and singing by the campfire—wouldn’t hear them.
“Are you kidding? This is the best idea ever,” Luke hummed back. “I’ve got everything right where I want it.”
He proved his point by pulling her closer and slanting his mouth over hers in a searing kiss.
“And you expect to sleep like this?” she hissed as soon as he let her up for air.
“No, ma’am,” he answered with a low chuckle that sent vibrations through both of them.
“Then what are we here for?”
He kissed her again. Eden would have given into it fully, if not for the continued singing behind them.
“We’re here to keep each other safe, remember?” Luke murmured breathlessly.
“How could I forget.” A deep, delicious ache formed in Eden’s core. Her dear, sweet husband was going to drive her crazy with wanting, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
She sighed, settling her head against his shoulder. “I used to think that God wasn’t really listening to me,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Why would you think that? God always listens.”
A grimace twisted her face, but Eden forced her features to smooth as she breathed in her husband’s scent. “Not if you lead a bad life.”
Luke chuckled. “I have a very hard time believing you could ever lead a bad life, Eden Chance.” She shifted, intending to contradict him, but he pressed a finger to her lips. “Yes, even you with all the things you won’t tell me.”
“But I—”
“I don’t care what it is,” he went on. “I just care that you’re here with me now, that you’re the answer to the prayer that half the time I didn’t even know I was praying.”
Instead of fighting him, she relaxed, resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes again. “You’re too good for me, Luke.”
“No, ma’am,” he said, “I’m not. I’m not too good and I’m not too bad. I’m just right, and so are you. We’re right for each other.”
Off to the side, the singing and talking continued, which only made Eden smile. Dire peril and all, she couldn’t ever remember being happier.
Those warm, cuddly feelings carried her off to sleep and lasted clear until morning…when she was awaken by the sound of a revolver being cocked beside her head.
Chapter 9
Eden gasped, scrambling in the tangle of blankets and Luke for one of her revolvers.
“Looking for this?”
Her eyes snapped up to find her brother, Braden, his Colt pointed at her with one hand, his other hand holding her gun belt. Luke’s reaction was a second too slow. He thrashed in confusion at Eden’s sudden movement, and as soon as his sleep-bleary eyes settled on Braden, he jolted to full wakefulness. Somehow he managed to shoot to his feet and to take Eden with him, shielding her with his body.
“Well, well, little sis,” Braden snorted. He scanned the two of them—both disheveled from sleeping in a bedroll on the ground, but with all the important bits covered, thank heavens. “Who’s this piece of steak I found you wrapped around?”
“I’m her husband,” Luke growled, the muscles of his back rippling with tension. “Who are you?”
Eden tried to scoot to the side and step around Luke, but he held her back. Of all the times for him to be a noble, protective husband.
Braden laughed, low and sour. “What, you mean she didn’t tell you about me?” His eyes widened, then narrowed to a sharp scowl. “Husband?”
It wasn’t going to be good no matter how she answered. Across the way, the rest of the ranch hands were only beginning to wake up in the early morning mist. They wouldn’t have a chance to reach for weapons before Braden took two or three of them out. She knew her brother too well.
“That’s right,” she said, trying to buy them as much time as possible. “Luke and I are married.”
Braden sneered. “Now, Bitsy, what’d you go a do a fool thing like getting married for?”
Eden cringed at the name. Dread seeped through her alarm. This time, when she stepped away from Luke, he let her go.
“Bitsy?” Luke blinked at her.
“Bitsy Briscoe,” Braden said. He twitched and sniffed. “She’s my sister.”
Luke’s shoulders bunched tighter, and he pivoted to face both Eden and Braden, hands held ready at his sides. “Your sister. Bitsy?”
Eden licked her lips, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, wishing that she had at least one of her Peacemakers in her hands. At
least she’d mentioned to Luke that she had brothers. The name thing…well, that was a problem.
She shifted to deal with Braden first. “Don’t call me that.” It took every nerve she had to relax her posture and face her brother’s loaded gun as if it was candy floss.
Braden curled his lip at her. “What, Bitsy? It’s your name.”
“Not anymore.”
“Eden isn’t your real name?” Luke shook his head, lost.
Eden puffed out a breath. “Eden Gardner? Garden of Eden? You really didn’t figure that name was made up?”
“But…” Luke’s jaw hung open as his thought drifted off. He snapped it shut, shook his head, and said, “Are we really married then?”
“Yes.” She swallowed. At least, they were until he figured out he should be furious with her and kicked her out of his life. That thought was so painful that she rushed on to drown it out. “I had my name legally changed after entering Hurst Home. A couple of the girls did.” She turned to Braden. “I am not Bitsy Briscoe anymore.”
It was Braden’s turn to gape and shake his head. Thank God above that he lowered his guns as he did. “Brent isn’t gonna like that.”
The very mention of Brent’s name left Eden shaking with fear. She hated every ounce of that fear, which only made her furious. “Why are you here, Braden? What do you want?”
“I’m here to fetch you,” Braden said.
“But how…how did you all find me?”
Braden shrugged. “Kyle Cooter thought he saw you in Nashville. Brent sent cousin Buford to investigate. He tracked you down to some home for women. Didn’t take much to corner one of those gals in an alley and make her squeal about where you’d gone next.”
Eden’s flash of fury over one of her friends being intimidated, or worse, was cut off when Braden tossed her gun belt at her feet and gestured with his own gun.
“Pack your things up and come along.”
Braden started to turn away, until Eden barked, “No.”
He froze, turning to stare at her with narrowed eyes. “No?”
Luke stepped into action, standing between Eden and her brother. “She said no.” It would have been far more convincing if his voice wasn’t unsteady with confusion.
“It’s all right, Luke.” She touched his arm, wanting nothing more than to hold it, to hold him tight. Luke pivoted to send her a questioning look. Eden took a breath and faced Braden. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Braden. Luke is my husband. I’m staying with him. And even if he wasn’t.” She paused, the words she had tried so hard to say to her brothers for so long sticking in her throat. She prayed for courage. “I…I don’t want anything to do with you boys anymore.”
It hurt. Even now, such simple, straightforward words—words that made perfect sense, and that anyone with half a brain would see were the right words to say—ripped her apart. The only family she had left, and she hated them.
No, she reminded herself. It was Brent she hated. Brent was the one who broke all bonds the day he pulled the trigger and shattered what was left of everything the word “family” stood for.
Braden rubbed his stubbly chin. “Brent ain’t gonna like that,” he growled. “He ain’t gonna like that one bit.”
Eden willed her racing heart to still, her hands to stop shaking, and the tears to stop flowing. “I don’t care what Brent likes.” She could only manage to get the words out in a whisper. “I told him I would leave and I did.”
“Yep.” Braden tilted his revolver to the side, fiddling with it as if he would point and shoot at any second. “And Brent said if you left, he would hunt you down like the bitch you are and put a bullet in your head, just like he did Branch.”
Luke jumped into action, lunging toward Braden, hands stretched toward his throat. The only thing that saved him from a bullet in the gut was that he caught Braden unawares. The shock of being attacked caused Braden to stumble back and drop his gun. It was already cocked and went off. The bullet whizzed off into nothing, but the bang shook the horses and cattle nearby, and woke the rest of the camp up in a hurry.
Within seconds, Travis, Mason, and the others were up and scrambling toward the confrontation. Only a few had guns of their own, the others grabbed whatever was near to hand. Cody ended up with a frying pan. Lawson ended up with her Winchester.
“Get back,” Travis shouted, leveling his revolver at Braden.
It was a pointless order. Luke already had Braden in a choke hold, fist raised.
“Stop!” Eden shouted. “Let him go.”
“Let him go?” Luke echoed, incredulous. “He was going to hurt you.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me, he’s my brother,” Eden insisted, hoping she was right. “Let him go.”
Luke hesitated, the tendons in his wrist tight as he squeezed Braden’s neck. Braden was quickly turning purple, eyes bulging with anger more than fear. Those eyes were trained on Eden.
Mike and Billy rushed up to them. Billy dove to retrieve Braden’s gun. As soon as Luke saw that there was no way Braden could get his hands on a weapon and that he had back-up, he let go.
“If you ever come anywhere near my wife again, I will hang you from the highest tree and cut your heart out.” Luke’s voice was so full of fury that it shook. In spite of everything, Eden’s heart swelled with pride in him.
A second later, she crashed back to earth.
“You don’t just walk away from the Briscoe Boys,” Braden snarled, hoarse. He pointed a long finger at her. “You’re one of us, and you always will be.”
“No.” Eden shook her head, throat clogged with tears. “I don’t want that life anymore. I’m done with the thieving and the violence, done with it.”
“Never.”
“You go back and tell Brent.” She summoned her last ounce of courage and added, “If you dare face him.”
Braden blanched. Pure terror lit his expression as he realized what returning to Brent empty-handed would mean. Eden knew the feeling all too well.
A second later, and his face hardened with disgust. “Fine, then. Call yourself by a fancy new name and shack up with this hunk of meat as a husband. You won’t live long enough to enjoy it once Brent finds out, and you know it.”
Luke jerked toward him, fist upraised, but Braden learned quickly. He turned tail and sprinted for the horse that Eden now noticed standing several yards off.
“We’re coming for you,” he said, and with an ease that she too had practiced in years of robbing banks and trains, Braden leapt onto his mount and kicked it into a full gallop before Luke or the other ranch hands could start to move.
As soon as she was sure he was gone, Eden went limp with misery and burst into a sob. It was messy and undignified and made her feel like the worst sort of ninny, but she couldn’t help it. Especially when Luke wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight.
“I’m sorry,” she managed along with a wet sniffle after a few seconds. “I’ve been trying to work out a way to tell you about them. I hoped they’d leave me be, let me start over. I…I guess I knew they wouldn’t.” She collapsed into a fit of tears as the truth hit her.
Silence broken only by the lowing of a restless herd followed. With her face buried against Luke’s chest, she couldn’t see the reactions of the others, but then, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see them.
“Bitsy?” Luke asked at last.
Eden winced and pushed herself far enough away from the comfort of his chest to drag her guilty eyes up to him. “I always hated that name.”
“Short for Elizabeth?”
She shook her head. “Miserable father who was so upset he had an itsy, bitsy girl instead of another boy that he cursed me with it.”
A hint of a smile pulled at the corners of Luke’s mouth and lit his eyes. It hardened a moment later, as did his arms around her. “I’m not going to let them hurt you or take you away, but you have to tell me what’s going on.”
Eden swallowed and nodded. She knew it without him telling her. That gave
her courage. She pushed away from him, squared her shoulders, and met his eyes.
“My name used to be Bitsy Briscoe. I was part of a gang with my brothers, the Briscoe Boys.”
“The Briscoe Boys?” Lawson frowned and scratched his head. “Where have I heard that name before?”
Luke furrowed his brow. A moment later, it popped up in surprise. “I know. I heard Alice Flint and Emma Meyers talking about a gang from Missouri called the Briscoe Boys once. Seems they had a friend on their journey out West on the Oregon Trail named Lynne. Her pa was a judge from St. Louis who sentenced some members of that gang to hang. They threatened to hurt Lynne, so she went to Denver, to her uncle. She married the man who her uncle sent to escort her, Cade Lawson. But one of the Briscoe Boys came along on the trail in disguise and tried to kill her.”
Eden sighed and nodded. “That was my Uncle Ben. One of the men who was hanged was my father.”
Luke and the rest of the boys stared at her with varying degrees of shock and suspicion. There was a whole lot more she needed to say. Silly though it was, she crossed to Lawson to retrieve her Winchester. Holding it, wrapping her hands around the smooth, worn wood would give her courage.
“My father and his brothers formed the original gang,” she explained, fiddling with her rifle so that she didn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes. “That judge pretty much destroyed the gang. But at the time, my brother Brent was old enough to pick up where Pa and my uncles left off. The rest of us were just kids, though. Ma never had much of a backbone, and she was terrified of Brent. We all were.”
She swallowed, choking on the memories she had of her mother. Old anger—that her mother had done nothing to protect her, that she’d let everything fall apart and only cowered in the corner while Brent bullied the rest of them—welled up in her.
“Come over here and sit down,” Travis suggested.
The others hummed and nodded and jumped into action. Luke stepped up to Eden’s side, slipping a hand around her waist and guiding her to the embers of the campfire that had been lit the night before. Cody and Billy rushed to find blankets for Eden to sit on, and Mason started a new fire while Lawson grabbed beans and a grinder to make coffee. Travis, Oscar, and Mike sat with her, looking ready to hang on her every word. Their kindness and show of support nearly had Eden in tears again.
