Yellowstone Dawn (Yellowstone Romance Series Book 4)

by Peggy L Henderson

  He mentally shook his head to stay alert. The voices around him sounded far and distant, and his vision blurred. He blinked away the distorted images. From what he understood, the preacher had arrived.

  A man would have to be drunker than a skunk or sick out of his mind to be strapped to a female like Danica Jensen. Sure, she was nice to look at, for a white woman. Her pretty face and emerald green eyes would hold any man’s attention, and her silky yellow hair begged for a man to run his fingers through it. If a man was interested in such features in a woman. Which he was not. Her attitude was something quite different. She was bossy, temperamental, and opinionated. Her mouth ran faster than a river during a spring snowmelt. She would make some poor soul’s life a living hell. Her baby’s father more than likely killed himself to get the hell away from her.

  The girl’s father could insist all he wanted. There was no way in hell he would get hitched to Danica Jensen. The man couldn’t force a marriage on either of them. They both had to say their vows to the preacher, and he sure wasn’t going to do it. Danica, thank heavens, seemed just as adamantly opposed as he was.

  Josh sized up the man standing over him. His gun was still pointed at his chest. If he weren’t so damn weak, this situation would have been dealt with already, and he’d be halfway back to the Madison Valley and his cabin by now. The knife on his belt rested against his thigh, but he knew it would be futile at the moment to try and fight his way out of the house. He’d never make it. He’d been in some tight spots before, usually evading warriors from various hostile Indian tribes, but he and Kyle had always managed to get their hides out of predicaments. This would be no different, he told himself firmly.

  Jensen’s other thug walked up to Josh, and grabbed him roughly by the arm. Josh pulled away, biting back the pain. The man with the gun shoved the revolver under his chin. Josh raised his head up and to the side, his jaw clenched.

  “I’ll put a few more bullet holes in you,” he sneered. Josh didn’t doubt for a second the man would carry out his threat. Clenching his fists, he cursed his damn injuries and weak body. He held the man’s cold stare, while the other thug bound his hands behind his back. He nearly blacked out from the pain in his shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Danica’s high-pitched voice next to him compounded the throbbing in his head. “He’s in no condition to fight you. Or are you two so afraid of a feverish man that you have to tie him up? You two are nothing but rotten, low-down, mule’s asses. Neither one of you has the sense of a warthog. You’d wet your pants in fear if Josh weren’t injured.”

  “Shut your filthy mouth, girl,” Danica’s father called from somewhere off to the side. For once, Josh had to agree with the man. She needed to learn to keep quiet.

  “Let’s get this wedding under way, Preacher Halping,” Jensen barked. Josh was pulled roughly from the settee. He stood on unsteady legs, facing a whip-thin tall man with a toothless smile on his face. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jensen pulled his daughter none too gently to her feet. She clutched at her protruding stomach.

  Josh wondered vaguely how near she was to delivering her baby. He recalled when she held his hand to her abdomen and he felt the baby’s strong kicks. He couldn’t describe what had come over him at that moment. It suddenly made her condition more real to him. There was actually another human being growing inside her body.

  Watching Kate grow large with child several years ago hadn’t seemed real, either, until Kyle presented his daughter to him for the first time mere hours after her birth. Having spent time with his mother’s people, the mystery of childbirth was something men did not participate in. It was a time for women to stay secluded, and husbands didn’t meet their child until the baby was a month old. Josh never questioned the custom. He’d quietly observed from a distance as Kyle doted on his pregnant wife. Touching Dani’s swollen belly had left him with an odd sense of wonder he couldn’t explain.

  “Dearly beloved,” the thin man’s slurry voice echoed in Josh’s head, and he tried to focus on what was happening before him. “We are gathered here to join this man, ah, what’s your name, son?” He leaned forward to glare at Josh through glassy eyes.

  Josh stared back. “Running Wolf,” he sneered.

  The preacher’s eyes widened. His gaze darted uneasily to Danica, then to her father. “He’s an injun,” he said, as if this fact had just registered with him. Josh smirked. “I can’t marry this man to this woman under the eyes of God,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s a heathen.”

  ”He’s a Christian,” Jensen grumbled to the preacher. “Tell the preacher your Christian name, dammit,” Jensen bellowed.

  “So now I’m a Christian, am I? Earlier you called me a heathen savage. Which one is it?” Josh hissed.

  The man with the revolver shoved the muzzle of his gun into Josh’s ribs. He held back a groan. “Tell the preacher your name,” he commanded in a menacing tone.

  Josh sneered at the men before him. “I told you my name.”

  Danica’s father suddenly pulled a pistol from his vest, and walked up to his daughter. “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll put a bullet in her gut.”

  Danica gasped. “Papa!”

  Josh caught the shock and hurt in her voice. Clearly she never knew how deep her father’s hatred ran if he was willing to kill an unborn child, and probably his own daughter in the process.

  Danica glanced up at him. Fear filled her eyes.

  “Josh Osborne,” he growled. “My name’s Josh Osborne.” He didn’t know what compelled him to cooperate at that moment. The terror in this brave girl’s eyes perhaps. He knew with certainty that the fear wasn’t for herself, but for her unborn child.

  “Josh, you can’t do this,” she gasped. “I won’t let you be tied to me like this. You did nothing wrong.” Josh refused to acknowledge her.

  “Hush up, girl,” her father said, still holding his weapon to her stomach. “Get on with it, preacher.”

  The preacher cleared his throat. “Josh Osborne, do you take this woman to be your wife. Do you promise to set her on the path of righteousness, and beget her with children? Wait,” he rubbed his chin and glanced at Danica’s stomach. “I guess you’ve already done that.”

  Josh’s lips curled in a sneer. He remained silent, his jaws clenched. Danica’s father jabbed the revolver into her stomach, and cocked the trigger. She squirmed against the arm holding her. Tears streamed down her face. “He did not father my child,” she sobbed.

  “You gotta say yes, son, or ya ain’t married,” the preacher whispered to Josh. “Do you take this woman as your wife?”

  “Yes,” Josh ground out. The sensation of the earth opening and swallowing him rushed through his body.

  “No, you can’t do this.” Danica struggled next to him, and pulled away from her father’s grasp. With speed that belied her heavy body, she grabbed for the knife hanging from Josh’s belt, and pulled it from its sheath.

  “You will not hurt my child, and you will not force this marriage,” she shouted, pointing the knife at her father. The man with the gun held it to Josh’s temple.

  “If you want to be a widow before you’re even wed, you’ll put that knife down,” her father growled. “Get on with it, preacher.”

  “Do you, Danica Jensen, take this man as your husband? Is your mind and body pure?” He rubbed at his chin again. “Well, it’s a little late for that, I s’pose, but no matter. Do you promise to honor and obey him?”

  “Josh, I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I’m so sorry.” The trigger on the gun clicked above his ear.

  “All right!” Danica yelled. “I’ll . . . I’ll have him as my husband.”

  “Well, that wasn’t so hard,” the preacher slurred cheerfully. “You’re now wed. The paper’s filled out. Just put your mark on it and it’s all legal. Let’s go get a drink to celebrate.”

  *****

  Danica threw another chemise in her carpetbag. It was already stuffed to bursting with clothes. Her wardrobe was full of
fancy dresses, none of which she would be taking with her. She packed only the most essential items and simple everyday dresses. She let out a short laugh between the sniffles and tears. Nothing she had would fit her right now, but she needed clothes for later. And she needed material to sew some clothes for her unborn child.

  She looked up, and her eyes surveyed her old room. Nothing had changed in the months she’s been gone. Her clean, soft bed beckoned to her. She was exhausted, and a good night’s rest in her own bed would feel like heaven. She quickly peeled her eyes away from the bed before she gave in and sank down into the covers. Her chest of drawers held clean linens and all her unmentionables. The wardrobe that contained her dresses was as full as the day she left. Her father said he buried her last summer. Apparently he hadn’t been able to let go of her things.

  Danica stood, her eyes unfocused, as she let her mind wander to that day last summer. What was supposed to have been a fun-filled excursion with Maddie and her family to see the geysers and hot water features in Yellowstone had quickly turned into a living nightmare. Several days into their trip, they had camped on the outskirts of a large geyser basin along a small tributary of the Firehole River.

  The Indian war party had come out of nowhere. At first, they had simply demanded fresh horses and food. Danica remembered two of the men in her party arguing, refusing to hand over anything to the Indians. She had spoken up, saying it would be wiser to give them what they wanted and cut their losses. The Indians outnumbered them at least three to one.

  After the men had relented, and agreed to trade their horses for some of the worn out Indian ponies, and handed over half of the rations they had brought, the Indians had left. Danica had wondered why some seemed to be arguing amongst themselves. Not ten minutes had passed after their departure, when several returned, and started shooting. Two of her friends fell instantly. They never had time to react. Danica pulled Maddie behind a tree to take cover, but her friend had screamed in terror, drawing the warriors’ attention. Three fierce-looking Indians, wearing nothing but loincloths, their faces painted with various colors, had descended on them. Danica, wanting to protect her terrified friend, had stepped between the warriors and Maddie, but she was no match for the men. While Maddie fought and screamed, resisting captivity, Danica had cooperated. The warriors indicated how they meant to take her and Maddie with them.

  Watching in horror as her traveling companions fought the rest of the war party, she’d agreed to be their captive. She had to stick close to Maddie, who had apparently swooned after one of the warriors hit her. Perhaps if she cooperated, they would let her and Maddie go. Little had she known that the real nightmare was still to come.

  A soft knock at her bedroom door caused her to spin around a little too quickly, and she clutched her stomach. Another month at most, and her baby would be born. What kind of life would she be able to offer this child? She rubbed her palm over a spot where her baby kicked a strong limb against the insides of her stomach. She heard the knock again, more urgently this time.

  “Come in,” she called, and her door flew open. Martha’s wide eyes darted around the room, coming to rest on Danica’s hands over her stomach.

  “You need to come quick, Miss Dani,” Martha said breathlessly. “That Indian . . . your new husband, he’s leaving.”

  “What?” Josh was hardly capable of leaving on his own. Danica didn’t know how much time they had before her father returned from his binge in the saloon. He had stormed out of the house before the ink was even dry on the marriage certificate, yelling at her that she and Josh had better be out of the house when he returned.

  Josh had slumped back on the settee, refusing to even acknowledge her. She decided to use the time to pack some of her things. Spending the night at a hotel, if they could find one that was still in business, seemed to be their only option.

  Danica pulled her carpetbag shut, leaning heavily against it to buckle the leather straps. With a groan, she heaved the bag into her arms, and rushed past Martha out of her room.

  “Here, Miss Dani, let me carry that downstairs,” the housekeeper offered when Danica reached the landing to the stairs at the end of the hall. “You’re likely to fall and break your neck in your condition.”

  Danica glanced back at the older woman. “Thanks, Martha,” she said quietly, and allowed her to take the heavy bag from her.

  Holding tightly to the wooden bannister, Danica rushed down the stairs. “Josh?” she called before she even reached the bottom steps. She spied him at the front door, his hand on the handle. His back straightened, and he stopped.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Danica asked, confronting him with a glare. “You’re in no condition to leave on your own.”

  “Watch me,” he growled. “I doubt you’re in better shape to carry me out of here.”

  “You can at least wait for me. I needed to gather a few belongings.”

  He stared at her, then laughed. “Lady, I ain’t taking you with me,” he said, clutching his side.

  “What? You can’t just leave me here like this,” Danica stammered. For once, she was speechless. He couldn’t simply walk away from her now. They were married, at least temporarily.

  “You’ll manage on your own. I can’t take you with me.” Josh turned the knob on the front door. Danica exchanged a quick look with Martha, who had come up beside her. The old woman seemed as stunned as Danica.

  “Where are you going?” Danica wished she’d retied his hands after he signed the marriage certificate, which now rested at the bottom of her carpetbag. Was every man who stepped foot in this house insane?

  “Home.”

  “Don’t you want to get this marriage annulled, or a divorce? We need to go see the judge or territorial governor in Helena for that.”

  Josh scoffed. “Dani, you’ve caused me enough trouble already. I ain’t going to Helena.” His eyes rested on her stomach. “And you aren’t in any condition to make that trip right now, either. Send me whatever papers you need signed when you do get there, and I’ll sign them.” Josh pulled the front door open and headed down the stairs. His horse stood tethered by the gate. He headed toward it slowly, on unsteady legs.

  Danica’s mind raced. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay here in Virginia City, that much was clear. No one she knew was left. Her father hated her. Her . . . her husband hated her. The baby moved and kicked, and Dani’s hand moved protectively to her protruding stomach.

  Josh was saddled with a wife who was forced on him, one he didn’t want, and a child that wasn’t his. How was a man supposed to feel about that? Could she blame him for walking away? She hated the circumstance just as much as he did, but she was willing to work together with him to find an amicable solution. She refused to just let him simply walk away from her.

  “Goodbye, Martha. I hope we meet again under better circumstances someday,” Danica said, turning to the older woman. She gave her a quick hug, and took the heavy bag from her hands. Martha’s eyes filled with tears.

  “What will you do, Miss Dani?” she asked.

  “I’m going to follow my husband,” Danica answered, as if that was obvious. Martha’s mouth opened, as if she wanted to say something, then she firmly closed it again. She held out her hand, and pressed something into Danica’s palm. Glancing down, she saw it was a wad of money. When she was about to object, Martha held a hand in front of her, and said, “I took it from your father’s study. Consider it a wedding gift from him.” She smiled conspiratorially, and Danica grinned.

  “Take care of yourself, Martha,” Danica said, hugging the old woman once more. The housekeeper sniffed.

  “You, too, Miss Dani. And take care of that little one, you hear?” She reached out and gingerly touched Danica’s stomach.

  Martha turned and rushed into the house, and Danica hurried down the stairs. Josh had just untied his horse, and headed toward the street.

  “Josh Osborne. I refuse to let you leave me here like this,” she called, and
moved as quickly as she could with her bulging bag in one hand, the other cradling her stomach. He turned slowly while leaning heavily against his horse. His eyes squeezed shut, and his chest heaved.

  ”Where are you going at this late hour?” she asked, walking up to him. His eyes narrowed dangerously when she looked up at him. “You’re in no condition to leave town.” Danica dropped her bag at her feet with a groan. She stood close enough to Josh that it fell on his toes. He took an awkward step back, bumping into his horse.

  “Are you always this insufferable, woman?” he asked between clenched teeth. ”I’m beginning to wonder about the man who fathered your child. Perhaps I misunderstood when you said you killed him. Listening to your incessant talk probably drove him to his merciful death.”

  “How dare you.” Danica’s eyes widened, and she raised her voice in outrage. The sting of tears threatened behind her eyes, and she blinked hastily. She balled her hands into fists, and held them firmly to her sides in the general vicinity where she thought her hips would be. She matched Josh’s glare, and leaned toward him.

  “I saved your life yesterday, whether you want to admit it or not, Josh Osborne. You would have died because you’re more ornery than a mule with a burr up its . . . rump, and dumber than an ox.” One hand shot forward, and she wagged a finger in his face, her voice rising in anger with each word she uttered. Josh leaned away from her, unable to back up further against his horse.

  “You would have kept right on riding, following some gang of outlaws with a bullet in your shoulder, rather than seek proper care. Well, let me tell you something about the man who . . .” Danica gasped suddenly, and clutched her stomach. She groaned, and bent forward. The sudden painful jab, and the baby’s violent kicks took her breath away. She nearly fell to her knees.