Frontier Courtship

by Valerie Hansen

  “Sleeping?” Faith was on her feet in a heartbeat. “Aren’t you coming right back?”

  “That’s my plan, unless I have trouble finding Irene.”

  “I should come with you then.”

  “You’d just slow me down.”

  “Thanks a heap, mister. Have I slowed you down so far?” She pulled a face. “Never mind. I know I have and I’m sorry. I just don’t feel right letting you go out there all alone.” Without conscious thought she rested her hand on the butt of the revolver, realizing belatedly that her actions were amusing him.

  “I promise to let you protect me some other time,” he gibed with a cynical smile. “Right now, I want you to concentrate on looking after yourself.” Finished tightening the cinch, he swung into the saddle. “And one more thing. This river feeds straight into the American. Remember that.”

  Faith frowned up at him, wondering why he felt the need to be so specific until he continued with, “You can find Beal’s Bar by sticking to the riverbank and following it downstream. Understand?”

  “I understand your directions,” Faith said. “What I don’t understand is why you’re telling me this. Are you trying to scare me? Because if you are, it’s working.”

  He wheeled Rojo in a tight circle while the horse pranced with eagerness. “Just stay alert. I’ll be back as fast as I can. I promise.”

  “Wait!” Faith hurried closer and reached out to him. In an instant he’d bent down and lifted her off the ground, holding her close while she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.

  Just as quickly he put her down, backed his horse away and galloped into the night.

  Unsteady, Faith pressed her fingertips to her tingling lips and blinked to try to clear her head. There had been a desperate quality to Connell’s goodbye kiss. A yearning that echoed all the pent-up emotion she’d been trying to deny in her own heart.

  Realizing their shared feeling lifted Faith’s spirits.

  It also scared her silly and piled enough guilt on her heart to make it ache.

  Chapter Twenty

  It was nearly dawn before Faith yielded to fatigue and closed her eyes. The campfire had burned down to glowing embers by the time she stirred again. Except for Ben and the two horses the Cheyenne had given them, she was alone.

  How long should she wait for Connell? she wondered. If he’d found Irene, he would have returned as he’d promised. Therefore, he must still be searching. Unless…

  Breath caught in Faith’s throat. Unless he’d been hurt. Or worse. The notion was so dreadful, so unacceptable, it made her heart race and her head throb.

  Every instinct told her she must search for him. Logic countered by reminding her she had no idea where he’d gone. Nor did she know where she was. Her only clue was Connell’s instruction about following the river’s course to Beal’s Bar. Clearly, he’d wanted her to proceed in case he didn’t make it back, but how could she leave the area without knowing what had happened to him?

  She stood, forlorn in the midst of the vast Sierra range, and looked toward heaven. “This isn’t right. It isn’t fair, Father. I can’t leave him. I can’t.”

  Yet, if she didn’t go on alone, Charity and Tucker might reach the mining camp ahead of her. Then her innocent father and sister would be in terrible jeopardy. Only Faith knew the whole truth. Only she could save her family from Tucker’s planned perfidy.

  She had no choice but to break camp and head downriver. Heart heavy, she doused the campfire, packed their supplies aboard one of the horses and saddled Ben. It occurred to her to leave a sign or an arrow to guide Connell but she decided against it. He already knew which way she was going. There was no use giving anyone else a clue to her whereabouts.

  And speaking of not leaving behind any sign, she had one important task left. Leading her mule, Faith headed toward the river to pick up her deerskin dress. It was still draped on the bush where she’d left it to dry.

  Irene’s Cheyenne clothing, however, was gone. So was the beaded tie that had caused such an uproar.

  Praying and hoping and wishing, Faith continued to follow the river as Connell had instructed, even after she lost sight of the clear trail of Rojo’s prints along the bank. Either the man had ridden his horse into the water or she’d somehow missed some trace of him on the rocky ground. Whichever it was, she was truly on her own.

  Too bereft to form coherent plans and too numb to recall comforting scripture verses the way she wanted, she let Ben pick his way along while she thought of Connell and prayed randomly for his safety and well-being.

  “And for his happiness,” Faith added. “I do want him to be happy, God. Honest I do. I just don’t understand all this. Why did I have to fall in love with him when everything is so hopeless?”

  Just then, Ben blew a noisy snort and Faith thought she heard a horse nicker a soft reply. She reined the mule in. “What is it, boy? What’s wrong?”

  His ears pricked, head turning slowly. Faith stood in her stirrups, straining to see into the distance. There didn’t seem to be any reason for the mule’s concern, yet he was growing more and more agitated. Behind her, the horses she’d been leading were equally nervous. Suddenly, one bolted, jerked the lead rope out of her hand and galloped off. The other followed.

  Shouting “Whoa!” had no effect on either of them and Faith had no clue as to the equivalent Cheyenne word. She was, however, sorely tempted to use some of the colorful language she’d heard more than one so-called gentleman shout in similar circumstances.

  “Well, pooh,” she finally said, talking to the mule and patting his neck. “At least I’ve still got you.”

  He blew another loud snort. This time, Faith knew she heard a horse or mule reply. Urging Ben forward, she took her bearings on the river behind her and went to investigate.

  In minutes, she realized her prayers had been answered. Or had they? She stifled a shout and slid from Ben’s back.

  Connell lay sprawled on the rocky ground, facedown. Rojo stood guard over him. There was blood on the fancy beaded rifle scabbard hanging from his saddle and a nasty-looking cut on the horse’s foreleg.

  Dropping to her knees beside the prostrate man, Faith touched his shoulder with trepidation. “Connell?”

  To her relief, he stirred, moaned.

  “Oh, thank God. You’re alive!”

  He sat up slowly, with effort. “What happened?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  One hand explored his bloody forehead. “Maybe Rojo stumbled. Is he okay?”

  “I think so.” Faith helped the plainsman stand. “He’s cut, but he seems to be putting weight on that leg. How did he fall?”

  She saw Connell stiffen and reach for his pistol. It was no longer in its holster. His rifle was gone, too. All he had left was the knife he used for skinning. No wonder he was suddenly on full alert. If his horse had merely fallen, Connell wouldn’t have lost both his guns. It didn’t take a genius to figure he’d been assaulted and robbed.

  “We have to get out of here,” he said.

  Faith easily adopted his attitude. “Now you’re making sense. Let’s go. You can ride Ben till we make sure your horse isn’t badly injured.”

  “No. You mount up and ride. I’ll follow when I can.”

  “In a pig’s eye, mister. I came to rescue you and that’s just what I intend to do.”

  “You what?”

  “You heard me. I’m saving your sorry hide. Now stop arguing and get on that mule before I get really upset.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying. It’s too dangerous. Whoever knocked me out might still be around.”

  “Oh?” Faith cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you got that knot on your head when your horse fell.” She could tell she’d bested him, at least for the present.

  “Never mind how I got hurt. Just do as I tell you.”

  “If I’d followed your orders and stayed by the river you might still be lying in a heap with your poor horse bleeding all over you. Now, a
re you going to do this my way or do I have to sit myself down right here and wait for you to come to your senses?”

  Muttering to himself, Connell nevertheless agreed. “All right. Mount up. I’ll ride one of the other horses. Where did you leave them, anyway?”

  Faith didn’t think this was a good time to tell him she’d lost the spare horses so she merely smiled and said, “Give me a boost and swing on behind me. Ben can carry us for a short way and Rojo can follow till we have time to sort everything out.”

  To her relief, Connell went along with her plan. If she hadn’t been so worried about meeting up with whoever had attacked him, she’d have spent more time fretting about how to explain her careless loss of the extra horses.

  The throbbing in Connell’s temple was the least of his concerns. Even if Rojo had been sound and he’d still had all his weapons, he’d have had to decide which of the two women to help first. Both of them were special to him—Irene because of their long history of friendship, and Faith Beal because she needed him and…

  He paused, dismayed by the clarity of his mental ramblings. Faith was special because he not only admired and cherished her, he loved her! She was intelligent as well as the bravest, most virtuous woman he’d ever met.

  What a sobering conclusion. The qualities he most admired in her were the very ones that would preclude his ever revealing his deep affection. Honor and righteousness meant everything to Faith. He knew she would never consider marrying a man who had broken his vows to another woman, even if he could bring himself to do so. Which he couldn’t.

  After all the trials Irene had suffered attempting to join him in California he couldn’t just turn away from her. She was like a frightened, wounded animal in need of healing, of the comfort a faithful husband could offer. He’d had his chance at the lighthearted romance of youth with Little Rabbit Woman. It was time to settle down and fulfill his vow to Irene, as he’d promised so long ago.

  Still riding with Faith, Connell rested a tender gaze on her shoulders. Ever since he’d foolishly given in and mounted Ben behind her, he’d had to fight the tendency to wrap his arms around her and pull her back against his chest.

  He could still taste the sweet kiss they’d shared when they’d last parted. It had been so spontaneous, so right for that moment, he hadn’t stopped to think about what he was doing until after the fact. Now, he was beginning to worry that he might have altered the way Faith viewed their relationship. If so, he had some serious atoning to do.

  He lightly touched her arm. “Faith?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is far enough. We’ll be safe here. Stop and let me down so I can check Rojo.”

  She reined in the mule. As soon as Connell swung a leg over and jumped to the ground, Faith dismounted beside him.

  “We need to talk,” she said quietly.

  “That’s what I was about to suggest.”

  “Really?” He’d already started to walk away so she dogged his steps. “You figured it out?”

  “Figured what out?”

  “About the other horses. I tried to hold on to them but they spooked and ran away. There was no way Ben could catch Indian ponies running scared so I let them go.”

  “You what?”

  “I let them go. What did you expect me to do, go galloping all over the mountains after them and get myself good and lost?”

  “No. I expected you to hang on to them.”

  “I tried to. I don’t know what scared them but something sure did. They took off like they’d been shot.”

  Connell’s gaze narrowed.

  “Well, they did,” she insisted, hands fisted on her hips. “I’m glad I was riding Ben instead of one of them.”

  “So am I.” He glanced past her to scan the hills. “All right. What’s done is done. It’s obvious I can’t leave you alone under the present circumstances so I’ll escort you the rest of the way to Beal’s Bar. It shouldn’t be far. Once you’re there, your father can look out for you.”

  “What about Irene?” Faith saw his jaw muscles knot.

  “That decision’s been made for me. I can’t track her far on foot and I won’t ride Rojo till I’m sure he’s okay. I’ll pick up a spare horse when I drop you off.”

  “Drop me off? Just like that? I thought you were going to stay and help me get even with Tucker.”

  “That’s all changed. I have to find Irene.”

  “I know you do. I just thought…” Faith’s voice trailed off. “Oh, never mind.” She didn’t like sounding petulant so she added, “Do whatever you feel you must. I understand. I just wish you could be there to see Tucker taken down a peg. I thought Irene wanted to be in on it, too.”

  Suddenly, Faith brightened. “I know! Maybe after you find her you can both come to Beal’s Bar.”

  Before she finished speaking Connell was shaking his head slowly, soberly. “No, Faith. As soon as Irene and I are back together I’m taking her to my ranch near Sacramento City. She deserves a home of her own and the life I promised her years ago.”

  “Of course.” Though Faith turned quickly away, she feared Connell had glimpsed the tears she was fighting to subdue. When she felt his gentle touch on her arm once again and heard the pathos in his voice, she was certain.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “All I wanted was to rescue you, to do you good. I never meant to cause pain. Please don’t cry.”

  “I’m not crying,” Faith insisted. “I just got something in my eye, that’s all.”

  Connell turned her to face him, his hands softly caressing her upper arms through the sleeves of her calico. “If things had been different, I…”

  She reached up and placed her fingertips on his lips to silence him. “Don’t. Don’t say nice things. I can’t bear hearing them.” Blinking back emotion, she was about to go on when the nearby snap of a dried branch made her gasp and hold her breath.

  Connell instinctively reached for his missing pistol, then drew his knife, instead, and placed himself staunchly between Faith and the noise.

  Less than fifteen feet away, an Indian woman stepped into the clearing. She was chuckling and shaking her head. “It’s a good thing for you two that I’m not hunting scalps.”

  Together, Faith and Connell shouted, “Irene!”

  He started toward her. “Where have you been?”

  “Following you two,” Irene said. “I spotted our Cheyenne horses grazing back a ways and brought them along.” She eyed Connell’s forehead. “What happened to you?”

  It surprised Faith when his reply was gruff, his attitude off-putting. “Never mind. Where have you been?”

  “Out here, same as you. Only it looks like I’ve been a lot more careful.” She pointed back the way she’d come. “I also came across your Hawken rifle. I left it with the horses, over there a ways, when I followed the sound of your voices.”

  “And the packs? The supplies?”

  “All there,” Irene said.

  “Then go get them. I need medicine to treat Rojo’s cut before we go any farther.”

  The last thing Faith wanted was to interfere, so she volunteered to fetch the horses, assuming he’d be glad to get rid of her. With a bright “I’ll do it,” she took a step in the direction Irene had indicated. To her surprise, Connell stopped her.

  “No. Stay right where you are. She’ll bring the horses.” He glared at his Cheyenne-garbed betrothed. “Won’t you?”

  “Of course,” Irene answered flatly.

  Faith’s gaze bounced back and forth between her two companions as she tried to decipher the tacit undercurrent. Something more was going on than that which was evident and whatever it was had made Connell irate and wary. Irene’s mood was more difficult to label. Her closed yet cautious expression reminded Faith of the Cheyenne.

  That was it! Even in settler’s clothing, Irene Wellman had carried herself with the proud aura of a Cheyenne. And now that she was once again dressed as one, she wore her off-putting attitude like a badge of honor.

&nb
sp; “Stay here with Rojo,” Connell told Faith. “Having Ben nearby will help settle him so he doesn’t move around too much and open up that cut again. I’ll go with Irene and bring back the horses.” He started to leave, then paused. “And don’t get careless. Keep your pistol handy.”

  “You are coming back this time? For sure?”

  “For sure,” Connell said.

  She watched him stride purposefully after the already disappearing Irene and heard him shout, “Slow down. I don’t want you out of my sight. Understand?”

  Irene’s answer was faint but Faith did manage to hear Connell say angrily, “What in blazes is going on?”

  That, Faith agreed, was a very good question.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Faith had hoped that her companions would have settled their personal differences before they returned with the horses. Instead, they had apparently argued to the point where they were no longer on speaking terms.

  Tired of their childishness, Faith stroked Ben’s velvety nose and talked aside to him. “Can you believe it? Look at them. Grown folks acting like spoiled brats. And they’re fixing to get married. Imagine that.”

  The old mule lowered his head and nudged her gently. Faith smiled. “Sorry, old boy. I’m fresh out of apples. You’ll have to wait till we get to Papa’s and see what treats he’s got for you.”

  She looked to Connell and raised her voice. “How far are we from Beal’s Bar, anyway?”

  “My guess is about half a day,” he replied.

  “Is that all? Well, what are we waiting for?”

  “I don’t want to push Rojo. We can make camp here, rest up, and still have plenty of time to get there ahead of Charity and Tucker.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. Even with our side trips—” he glanced daggers at Irene “—we’re ahead of schedule.”

  “I could ride on ahead,” Faith suggested.

  Connell was adamant. “Not alone.”

  “Why not? It’s sure not very enjoyable keeping company with you two. Besides, if I hadn’t followed Ben’s instincts and left the riverbank, I’d be by myself right now anyway.”