“What about Sarah?” she asked. “Surely you can let her go. You don’t have a quarrel with her.”
The ruffian called Simpson said, “He done promised her to me. I was the one what brought her here.”
In an instant, Lawson’s smile turned to rage. “You’ll do what I say. She’s mine until I say otherwise. Got that?”
“Sure, Jeff. Sure.” Simpson backed away.
“Boss, you oughta let us have one of ‘em,” a scruffy man protested. “Ain’t right you git ‘em both.”
Faster than Parmelia would have believed possible, Jeff pulled his revolver and shot the man in the head. The body dropped at Parmelia’s feet. She shuddered and tried not to look. But, she didn’t want to make eye contact with any of Jeff’s men, not even the two she recognized.
Holding his gun, Jeff looked around the camp. “Anyone else want to complain?”
Sarah sagged, sobbing, and almost overbalanced Parmelia.
Parmelia whispered, “Pull yourself together, Sarah Hardeman. This is no time to pass out.”
Sarah gasped, “Why wait longer? I’m freezing and scared almost to death. I wish he’d shoot me now before he or his men get to me.”
“Don’t give up yet. Remember your sisters escaped and went for help. Darrick and his men will be on their way by now. They may arrive any minute.”
“They’ll never get here in time to save us.”
Jeff turned on Parmelia. “What are you and your little friend talking about?”
Parmelia confessed, “We were wishing the Yankees would arrive.”
Jeff slapped her. If she hadn’t seen the blow coming and braced herself, it would have toppled her and Sarah.
“Your mother was a lady, Jeff. I hardly think that’s how she taught you to treat women.”
“That’s how my daddy taught me to treat them. Especially liars like you. Those Yankees aren’t going to rescue you, Parmelia dear. They’re still bumping into each other like clowns in a circus, trying to figure out where we are.”
He strutted in a circle around Parmelia and Sarah. “I’m smarter than any Yankee or Reb ever born. I go my way, taking what I please, and they can’t catch me. They’ll never catch me.” He looked around the camp. “Isn’t that right, men?”
A chorus of “Yes” and “You’re right” sounded from the six men left. No one looked at the dead man.
Jeff opened his mouth to speak then dropped like a felled tree.
Darrick stepped forward and announced, “Hands up. You’re all under arrest.” He stuffed a slingshot into his pocket and hurried to Jeff while the Yankees herded the rest of Jeff’s gang. Darrick tied Jeff’s hands behind the man’s back then removed a knife and another gun from him. When he was satisfied Jeff no longer presented a threat, Darrick untied Parmelia and Sarah.
Both girls hugged Darrick then stepped back.
Parmelia rubbed her arms where the ropes had cut in. “I knew you’d come, Darrick, but I admit I was getting a little worried about your timing. Jeff had just shot that man because they disagreed over Sarah.”
In spite of her faith in Darrick, she was weak from her ordeal. She had feared it would be morning before he and his men arrived. She and Sarah would likely not have survived the night. Remembering all the experiences Jeff promised her, she shivered.
Darrick removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. “We saw what happened. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
Sarah sobbed with relief. “I thought we were going to die and I’d never see Matt again.”
One of Darrick’s men gave his jacket to Sarah.
“You’ll see him sooner than you thought.” Darrick guided the girls toward horses. “He’s in Witherspoon.”
“He’s there now?” Sarah cried.
“Matt’s home? Are Papa and Riley and Grandpa with him?” Parmelia asked.
“Hold on. Matt was captured and ended up near Chicago. He heard about Lawson and escaped. He walked here through unbearable conditions to warn you.” He looked at Parmelia. “Sorry, I don’t know anything about your other kin.”
Parmelia was disappointed, but at least she knew Matt was safe. “How bad off is he?”
“Wounded in the shoulder. It’s bad from neglect. Doctor will have worked on him by now. Matt’s feet were in terrible shape. Walked barefoot from Illinois.”
Both girls cried out their distress at the news of Matt’s condition.
“Don’t worry, we’ll take you to him. Your mothers are with him now.”
“That was your slingshot you used on Jeff, wasn’t it?” Parmelia asked.
He put his hand at her back. “Worked for David with Goliath, why not on Lawson?”
“You always were good with that thing.” Parmelia said as Darrick helped her onto a horse. “I remember you used to hit squirrels with it when you were a kid.”
“He had his gun drawn. We feared he’d shoot you if he knew we were there.” He handed Sarah onto another horse. “Lawson was a lot easier to hit than a squirrel.”
Lawson’s victim was across one saddle. Some of Lawon’s men rode double to free up horses for her and Sarah. After their kidnapping, she’d been forced to ride with Jeff while Sarah rode with the man called Simpson. She shivered again at the memory. She was sure she’d have nightmares of this day’s trouble for a long time.
They reached town and headed for the jail next door to the town hall. No sooner had they halted, than Katie and Nancy rushed to greet them, followed by Mama, Grammy, and Mrs. Hardeman.
Darrick’s men turned over the criminals to other soldiers who rushed to offer assistance.
When the reunion was complete, Sarah returned the coat to its owner then pushed through her family. “I have to see Matt.”
Mama hugged Parmelia again. “We just received permission to move him to the house. That Yankee colonel is very considerate. He’s having four of his men carry the cot so Matt doesn’t have to move a muscle to get home.”
Webster touched Darrick’s shoulder. “Captain, we may have a problem.”
Darrick and Parmelia turned. Manyt of the town’s people gathered in the street. Solemn faces greeted them. She hoped the citizens hadn’t come to riot against Darrick and his men.
Grammy patted Darrick’s arm. “Katie and Nancy made the rounds of downtown and a few streets of houses. Told everyone they saw that one of our own boys was going to save Parmelia and Sarah.”
Katie said, “Yeah, and we told them that if you failed, Jeff Lawson would be back to burn the town after he killed Parmelia and Sarah.”
Grammy smiled up at Darrick. “I think everyone’s here to thank you.”
“That we are.” Mr. Brendan stepped forward and offered his hand to Darrick.
One by one, people came forward to shake hands with him and with his men. Even grumpy old Mrs. Findley came toward him. “I hope you plan to stay here in Witherspoon when this War of Northern Aggression is over. Always thought a lot of your family.”
As she walked away, Darrick looked at Webster and winked. “I’ll be damned if I ever thought this day would come.”
Parmelia and Webster laughed.
Webster said, “From the way you and Miss Bailey have been making calf eyes at one another, I reckon it’s a sure thing you’ll settle here.”
The heat of a blush spread across Parmelia’s face. Was she so obvious?
Darrick hugged her shoulders. “Have to admit it fits with my plans.”
“Does it really?” Parmelia asked. Did she dare hope?
Four soldiers passed carrying Matt on a cot.
Mama and Grammy and the Hardemans trailed behind the soldiers. Mrs. Hardeman’s waspish voice drifted back as she offered advice.
Rob came up to Darrick. “Thanks for saving my sister. She’s a real pest sometimes, but I don’t wanna lose her.”
Darrick smiled at the boy. “I know what you mean, Rob. I have two sisters myself.”
“Two?” Rob looked horrified. “I feel sorry for you.”
“Settling down in Witherspoon sounds great.”
“If you planned to come back, why didn’t you write to me?”
He looked surprised. “Thought it was settled. I promised you I’d come for you as soon as I could.”
She fisted her hands at her waist. “Four years, Darrick. Not one word.”
He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “At first, there was nothing to say. I had no money and lots of responsibility to tend to. Once Ma and the girls were settled and it looked like I could come, the war broke out.”
“So you enlisted.”
“That’s right. Wasn’t much choice for an able-bodied man.”
Her irritation at his failure to communicate flared. “So, you think you can ignore me for four years and then just pop up and expect me to fall into your arms?”
Looking contrite, he gazed into her eyes. “I know I don’t deserve a wonderful woman like you.”
She threw up her hands. “Oh, you know just how to get around me.” Taking a calming breath, she asked, “Do you really plan to settle here?”
He cupped her face with one hand. “Yes. That is, if you’ll marry me.”
“Maybe we could take a stroll and discuss it.” Although she could have danced, she laid her hand sedately on his arm.
Darrick smiled down at her, and his dark eyes twinkled. “Just a moment.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a length of blue ribbon. “I bought this for you. Looks like a good time to give it to you.”
She smiled back at him. Suddenly remembering her appearance, she touched her hair. Dear Lord, it hung in tangled strands around her face. She looked down at her torn and filthy dress. “On second thought, now that you’ve seen me at my worst, you may want to reconsider your proposal.”
He slid the ribbon under her hair and tied a bow on top of her head. His strong hands gently caressed her cheeks. “No woman on earth could be more beautiful than you, Parmelia Bailey. Shall we?” He led her down the steps.
Most of the crowd had dispersed. The few people remaining gave way for the couple.
Rob kept up with them. “Where we going?”
Parmelia said, “Darrick and I have a lot to talk about. We’re walking home slowly. But you, Rob, are going to hurry home and help Grammy.”
“Awww, rats,” he complained as he walked away. “I never get to hear anything good.”
She called, “Tell her Darrick’s staying for supper.”
Darrick stopped to pull her into his arms. His lips brushed hers tentatively then his kiss deepened. Her spirits soared, as if she might float on the breeze. Anchoring herself to Darrick, she slid her arms around him.
From down the street, catcalls and whistles failed to embarrass her—she didn’t care who knew she loved Darrick and he loved her. She raised her head for another kiss.
When they broke their embrace, he said, “It took me a long time, but I’m here to stay.”
“What about the Army?” she asked. “Although, I’ll be happy to make my home wherever you are, Darrick.”
“Everyone agrees this war’s almost over. When I accepted this mission, I asked General Grant if I could remain here for the duration of my service. He agreed, as long as I stopped Lawson.”
“Oh, Darrick, that’s wonderful news.”
He put his arm around her waist and guided her toward her grandparents’ house. “Let’s go check on Matt, shall we? He and I have both taken the long way home.”
About the Author
Caroline Clemmons is an Amazon bestselling and award winning author of historical and contemporary western romances. A frequent speaker at conferences and seminars, she has taught workshops on characterization, point of view, and layering a novel.
Caroline and her husband live in the heart of Texas cowboy country with their menagerie of rescued pets. When she’s not indulging her passion for writing, Caroline enjoys family, reading, travel, antiquing, genealogy, and getting together with friends.
@CarolinClemmons
Caroline Clemmons
[email protected]
Bella
by
Sylvia McDaniel
Copyright © 2016 by Sylvia McDaniel
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
Nervous as a girl at her first cotillion, Bella Francis, heiress to the Francis Shipping Company out St Louis, stood in front of the podium with her best friend Abigail Vanderhooten. The Texas sun beat down on the women and the rest of the townspeople gathered to learn who had won the baking contest at the New Hope, Texas Annual Fall Festival.
The season was autumn, but the weather felt more like summer with the wind gently blowing her long skirts and teasing wisps of hair from beneath her bonnet.
She knew she was a good baker. Since the age of six, she'd spent time with Viola, her father’s cook. Whenever nanny told her to occupy herself, she'd spent hours learning how to create delicious pastries, in her father's fancy kitchen. But most of all, Bella discovered she enjoyed baking.
Mayor Jack Turner walked to the front of the podium and Abigail squeezed Bella's hand. Abigail and Jack were engaged to be married as soon as the rest of their friends, their fellow suffragettes, arrived in New Hope. And that should be any day.
"That's my man," Abigail said softly gazing up at Jack with pride.
"It's okay if I don't win," Bella replied, knowing even as she said the words, she wanted this more than the college diploma she'd run from. This was her dream, her desire to own a bakery and share her love of cooking with others. And if she won this small event, then the town would realize she could bake.
"I'm pleased to announce that after ten years, we have a new champion." Jack looked down at Bella. Her heart leaped into her throat pounding furiously. "Bella Sullivan."
For a moment, she was surprised he'd said Sullivan, but she and Abigail agreed it was best she went by her grandmother's maiden name to keep her family from finding her. She knew her father was searching and didn't want to be located.
The townspeople clapped as she made her way to the podium. There, Jack handed her a blue ribbon. "You've broken the longest winning streak by Franco Ruffini. He's been our winner for the last ten festivals. Congratulations."
"Thank you," Bella said. She turned to face the judges and shook hands with the five people from the small town who had bestowed her the prize. "Thank you."
"Delicious," Mrs. Fitzgerald said. "I can't remember tasting any pastry quite so good."
The older man shook his head. "I was shocked. I didn't expect it to just melt in my mouth."
"Bella, you should open your own shop," Henrietta Mason, the owner of the restaurant told her. "The town’s bakery closed when Franco took ill. You could earn a good living."
Smiling, Bella knew that was exactly what she hoped to do and was even looking at the building where the man's brick oven was located. It was the perfect set-up and she'd been considering the building since she'd arrived in New Hope. For now, her pastry goods were for sale in Abigail's mercantile. But it would be so much better if she had her own place with the right equipment.
"Thank you, Henrietta. I'll take that under advisement and consider your suggestion." She smiled at them. "Again, thank you, this means so much to me." How could she tell them it was the first good thing to happen to her in a long time, and she needed this validation that she was good at what she enjoyed doing.
Walking down the stairs, she noticed the crowd was beginning to disperse, heading over to other displays at the small festival. Actually, it was more like a town picnic compared to the events she'd attended in Boston or even in St. Louis, where she'd lived as
a young girl.
Walking toward Abigail, an older, graying gentleman stepped in front of her.
"How did you convince the judges to vote for you?” he asked, his voice low and rigid.
Shocked, she shook her head. "What are you saying? I didn't say anything to the judges. They didn't know whose dish was whose."
His dark eyes flashed and he tilted his head toward them. "You talk to them."
"I was telling them thank you."
A young, dark-haired man walked up beside the older man. He glanced at her apologetically. "Papa, let it go. It was time for someone else to win."
It was then that everything fell into place.
The older man's eyes darkened as he gazed at her suspiciously. "I'm Franco Ruffini and this is my son, Luca. I'm the person whose winning streak you broke."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ruffini."
The man's eyes narrowed and he stared at her. "I'm having a hard time believing that a young woman like yourself could out bake me."
"Papa," Luca said, gazing at her, shaking his head apologetically. "Things change."
The young man's dark hair and even darker eyes sent a tingle of awareness spiraling down her spine. He was certainly a handsome man. Even more attractive than the cowboys who roamed the town.
"My baking has not changed. It's still just as good as it used to be."
"I'm sure it is, Mr. Ruffini," Bella said, knowing the man was offended that a woman had beaten him. A young woman, an outsider in the small town.
"Next year, I will take my title back," he said, lifting his chin proudly.
She smiled. "I'm up for that challenge. Maybe before then, we can have our own bake off."
She tossed the idea out there just to appease the older gentleman.
The man tilted his head, his dark eyes suddenly brightening. A smile curved his lips and he nodded. "I accept. We'll set the time and the place."
Wild Western Women Spring Into Love: A Western Historical Romance Box Set Page 23
