Saving the Mail Order Bride

by Linda Broday

  “Do you mind if I ask why you limp?”

  “An old injury, about five years gone. A posse was chasing me, and one got off a shot. The bullet’s still lodged near my hip. When I’m on my feet for any length of time, it feels like a damn badger’s gnawing my leg off.”

  She wanted to ask if he got chased often but didn’t want to appear too nosy. An outlaw’s business was his own. Guilt littered the chaotic landscape inside her. She hadn’t been truthful with him either.

  The fact was, she had men on her trail. She’d glimpsed one at the train station in Fort Worth but had managed to lose him. Right now, they were scattering in a frenzy like a bunch of cockroaches when the lamp was lit. Her luck wouldn’t hold.

  They would find her no matter how careful she was.

  Tomorrow she’d tell Jack. It was the only fair thing to do, even though he might hate her for keeping silent.

  She thought a moment and gave her head a shake. On the other hand, what difference would it make to mention even more trouble? She’d probably do him a favor by keeping quiet. They were on foot, handcuffed together. Even worse, they had a gun with no bullets and the town they were headed for was five days away. He couldn’t very well fight. Or run. Except she couldn’t see him doing that. Jack Bowdre was a stand-your-ground sort of man.

  And that didn’t count the men scouring the countryside for him.

  No, she didn’t have the heart to tell him things were far worse than he knew.

  She stared up at the stars, wishing for a miracle. Yet all she saw up there was the same thing she saw when she closed her eyes. Murky black water that smelled like rotted flesh—water that hid untold danger and death.

  And when trouble closed around her, cutting off her air supply, she wouldn’t even see it coming.

  Four

  The morning sky was an odd swirl of lighter and darker pink when Nora woke with a start. The realization that she lay curled in Jack’s arms, her skirt and petticoats bunched halfway up her legs, shocked her into action. She bolted upright, tugging at her skirts to make herself decent.

  A chuckle jerked her around. His gunmetal gray eyes didn’t have one bit of sleep in them.

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “About an hour I guess. Nice legs.” The chain of the manacles rattled as he sat up.

  “You could’ve woken me.” What else had he ogled while she was dead to the world? She groaned and quickly straightened the gap between the buttons of her bodice. She’d provided him with a free tease, like the women at the burlesque shows.

  “What for? You needed sleep.” He stood and pulled her up. “We’ll go back to the creek to wash and then get moving. I expect riders will come this way after me very soon. I’d like to keep ahead of them.”

  The stubble on Jack’s jaw, a shade darker than his light-brown hair, sent Nora’s heart into a spin. That and the muscles working along his arms did funny things to her stomach. She told herself it was this Texas air.

  Yet she knew it wasn’t. Outlaw or not, behind his gruff complaining, this man was gentle and kind. Not once had he done anything to make her really afraid for her life. In fact, she felt far safer with him than she had for a long while. He even shortened his long stride to the length of her legs and reached for her hand. She hummed all the way to the water, noticing he barely limped.

  “Jack, about this posse. Who exactly are they?”

  “A group of ordinary men who’ve been deputized, with one or two lawmen in charge. Why?”

  “No reason. Just trying to figure the odds, that’s all.”

  “Slim and none. If we get out of this, it’ll be a pure miracle.” He led her around a bed of cactus. “Watch out for those thorns.”

  “I appreciate the warning.”

  Before they set off across the rugged landscape, Nora helped Jack stuff the bustle she’d discarded in the night behind some rocks. Hopefully, if a rider passed by, he wouldn’t see it. She prayed not, anyway. Too late, she realized she should’ve burned it in the fire. That would’ve been best. Finally, with the bustle out of sight, she helped him get rid of the branches they’d slept on and wipe away their footprints until the campsite showed no evidence they’d been there.

  An hour later, Nora’s growling stomach reminded her they had yet to eat.

  He stopped in front of a bed of cactus. “This is about it in the way of food right now. Sorry.”

  “We’re eating…that?” She leaned down for a closer look at the round pods covered with thorns. That was going to hurt. “I don’t think I’m quite that hungry.”

  “Don’t let the appearance fool you. Cactus is good food in a pinch. You might even develop a liking for it.”

  “Don’t count on it.” She’d already formed an opinion on the subject.

  “I just have to wrap my hands so I won’t get stuck.” The shackles clanked as he removed his right arm from his duster and encased his hand in the heavy fabric. Carefully, he yanked on a large pod from the nearest vicious-looking plant, tore it off, and laid it on the ground. Then he removed another, laying it on top of the first and picking them both up together.

  Nora moved with him behind the shelter of a group of rocks, where he built a fire. Thank goodness they weren’t going to eat the cactus raw.

  “Hand me that stick behind you, please.” He reached for another near his foot.

  Whatever he had in mind, this would bear watching. She’d never lived in the wild before, and she might have to do this on her own at some point. She handed him the stick and perched on a rock beside him. Jack stuck the sticks through the pods and set them in the flames, turning them until they began to roast. When he removed the pods from the fire, the thorns were gone.

  Where had he learned to do that anyway? Or did he live like this all the time?

  Oh good Lord, did he even have a house or a bed? He’d lied to her in his letters already, which meant she knew nothing about him. He might expect her to do without even the basic necessities. She couldn’t live like this. She needed stuff. Not a lot, mind you, but more than she had now.

  Jack laid the roasted cactus on a rock, a smile teasing his mouth. “We’ll let them cool a minute. It’s too early in the year for the fruit, but they’re tasty and sweet.”

  “I need to know—what do these roasted pods taste like?”

  “Have you ever had okra?”

  “No. Are you sure those are edible?”

  “I’ve eaten them many times. You’ll like the taste, and they’re very moist.”

  After a few minutes, he handed her one. Much to her surprise, she did find the taste and texture halfway agreeable. Her hunger was too great, and before she knew it, she’d finished.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “I’ve certainly had worse. They’re pretty good. Thank you.”

  When she sat back, her stomach full, she knew there were lots of worse things than being shackled to Jack Bowdre. Why she trusted him was hard to explain. Abused as she’d been for so long, she should be wary, but something in his eyes, on his face, assured her he wouldn’t hurt her. Growing up with Flynn, she’d become very adept at sizing men up. In fact, to make a mistake would’ve meant death. This outlaw wasn’t a threat—not to her.

  But others should definitely take heed.

  She gave Jack’s rugged profile a sideways glance. He seemed deep in thought the way he stared into the distance.

  Maybe how to get rid of her?

  Out here on the plains, there appeared to be certain freedom in the primitive conditions that she hadn’t considered. Still…she didn’t want this for the rest of her life.

  Panic swept through her. What if Jack didn’t want her? What if he got loose from her and left? How would she survive in this strange place alone, without anything?

  He rose. “We’ll have some more later. Right now, I need to find a good rock a
nd see if I can break this chain. I had planned to shoot out one of the links, but without bullets, the gun is useless.”

  “You can break these iron links apart with a rock?”

  “Exactly what I plan.”

  “What size rock are you looking for?” There were hundreds in the immediate vicinity. This part of Texas sure didn’t have much to commend it. In each direction, she looked she saw the same barren landscape. How did people live out here?

  “I’ll know when I see it.”

  A lot of good that did her. “Can’t you use the butt of the Colt?”

  “That’ll damage it and it won’t fire.” He said that like it was something everyone should know.

  “But we have no cartridges. Why keep something that doesn’t work?” Lord help this poor outlaw. He didn’t seem quite right in the head sometimes.

  Jack stopped and stared as though she’d suggested he gnaw through the iron links with his teeth. He inhaled a slow breath and seemed to be…counting? Oh dear. “Even if a gun has no ammunition, it still has plenty of worth. If someone corners us, I can still point it at someone. They’ll think what I want them to. I’m very good at making men believe they’re about to die. Besides, I have friends who roam this land. I can borrow some cartridges from them.”

  “Oh. I guess that’s why you’re the outlaw and I’m…a bride you kept secrets from.”

  The way color flooded his face and the kick he gave a clumpy weed of some kind said he didn’t appear to appreciate her remark. As long as he didn’t start counting again.

  “Over there.” He pointed to a group of rocks that appeared to have been stacked on purpose.

  She allowed him to pull her to them, and he chose a hefty one, about nine by six inches. Although he had very large palms, she still had no idea how he’d lift the makeshift sledgehammer and slam it onto the chain with one hand.

  With his inability to accept criticism, she thought it prudent to hold her tongue.

  With the few inches of chain stretched across a boulder, Jack lifted the rock. The mighty blow jarred her, sending vibrating waves along the chain and stinging her wrist. Plus, the impact didn’t even put the slightest dent in the iron. He slipped his arm out of the only duster sleeve he could get off and tried again. Nothing. He unbuttoned his shirt, tugging at the collar, and Nora sucked in a breath at the sight of that broad chest with rippling muscles.

  My oh my!

  To run her hands over that. She’d always assumed men who lived by the gun would be too thin, too pale, their bodies too…standard. After all, what work did an outlaw do other than ride his horse and shoot?

  Apparently, Jack did far more. He had to do physical work of some kind to have a chest that brawny. She tried not to stare, but her eyes refused to obey.

  Over and over, he pounded the chain. With each strike, she flinched and dodged the flying chips of stone. Over and over, the metal failed to yield. Sweat poured off him despite the cool day. Frustrated curses slipped from his mouth, although he restrained himself far better than she expected.

  “I have a hairpin if you want to try picking the locks.” That idea made more sense to her, rather than thrashing the daylights out of a chain that wouldn’t budge.

  “I’ll get this in a minute. It’s just stubborn, that’s all. I have to hit it just right.”

  The sun rose higher, he kept working, and the rock finally broke right in half…but the chain held fast.

  He met her gaze. “Failure is just the opportunity to begin again. We’re not licked.”

  Nora cocked her head, catching a faint sound. “Someone’s coming.”

  “Hurry.” Jack took her hand and led her down into a ravine, where they flattened against the side. “Don’t make a sound.”

  Her heart hammered in her ears. Or was that his heartbeat? He put his free arm around her and pulled her against all that brawn. The scent of the wild Texas land melded with leather and manly sweat, and Nora could do nothing but sag against him as limp as jelly left sitting in the sun.

  His mouth was mere inches from hers.

  Perspiration trickled between her breasts, and she could barely draw a shaky breath into her lungs. No one had a right to be so rugged, so enticing, so…so sensual.

  What would it be like to feel his lips on hers? Her pulse raced.

  He shifted a little, knitting his brows, frowning down at her. Shoot! Had she spoken aloud?

  The empty Colt tucked in his waist pressed into the area above her belly, reminding her they were in grave danger. In truth, she was having trouble forming a complete thought.

  A few minutes passed, and the hoofbeats became louder until the rider was right above them. The horse snorted with impatience. Other than the horse, all was silent.

  Good. That meant only one person, not a whole posse of bloodthirsty men.

  Jack removed his hat, gripped the empty gun, and took a look. The suspense proved too much for Nora. She raised on tiptoe to peek, and fear raced through her. She clamped a hand over her mouth to hush the startled cry.

  The horseman was the man she’d caught following her in Fort Worth. The white of her discarded bustle bulged from his saddlebag.

  The gray gelding he rode ambled by, almost stopping, the rider scanning every rock, cactus, and blade of straw grass.

  Looking for her.

  She ducked, pressing the trembling length of her body tightly against Jack. How could the tracker have found her? Had he watched her board the stage in Fort Worth and followed? If so, he’d seen the stagecoach wreck and knew she had to be in the area. Then he had found the bustle they’d stuffed between the rocks. She mentally kicked herself. Who was he? The man definitely wasn’t from New York. He knew far too much about this land, moved in it too easily.

  Jack’s hard gaze followed the tracker until he rode on. He kept his voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “Who was that? You recognized him.”

  Oh God, she had to tell him. But then—that meant mentioning everything else—and the ledger she’d stolen.

  Careful. The lies would pile up on top of each other until she couldn’t keep them straight.

  “I thought I saw him in Fort Worth when I got off the train.” Nora twisted a button on her coat, keeping her eyes lowered. “I’m sure I was probably mistaken. I didn’t get a very good look at him just now. The sun was in my eyes, you know, and I could barely make out anything.”

  He narrowed his stern gaze and pinched his eyebrows together. “Why would anyone follow you?”

  “A case of mistaken identity?” She finally glanced up and widened her eyes. “Although I’m sure I imagined that whole thing. No one here in Texas would have absolutely any interest in me. I came to marry you, Jack, and I have to say it’s been a rather arduous trip. Some of the hardship was my own making, I admit. If I could just go back to the moment when I unlocked the marshal’s handcuff.”

  She smiled brightly, refusing to let the outlaw’s dark scowl worry her.

  “Repeating that won’t unhook these. We’ll have to talk about the marrying part.” He took her hand and they moved north, staying in the ravine. The chain stayed on their wrists, breaking it forgotten for the moment.

  Talk about it? What did that mean? She chewed her bottom lip.

  Thick brush grew in the long slice in the earth, providing many places for snakes to lurk. She stumbled several times, too busy looking for the slithery reptiles with their beady little eyes and long fangs. Jack didn’t seem one bit concerned. Maybe the marshal had it right back in the stage. Jack was so mean the rattlesnakes wouldn’t come near him. Whatever it was, she was glad they stayed away.

  The marshal’s other comment—about Jack’s family disowning him—raised other questions, and she wondered if that was true. Sometimes he stared off into the distance with such sorrow.

  Only someone all alone in the world wore a look like that. She s
hould know. Her current situation was due in part to that. Flynn O’Brien had come sniffing around, taking advantage of her vulnerability and the fact that she had no family of her own. At first, he’d seemed like a caring benefactor. Then he’d trapped her in a web of lies, murder, and fear.

  For years, she’d struggled to free herself from the labyrinth of horror only to find every turn led deeper and deeper, away from the blessed light and freedom.

  Jack’s letters and offer of marriage had been her first real hope in a very dark time. Come to Hope’s Crossing and marry me. Start a new life. Help settle a raw town and find more contentment than you’ve ever known.

  Nora wiggled her fingers inside his warm palm. Now he wanted to “discuss” the marrying part. Had he changed his mind and was sending her back to that nightmare?

  Fear slid up her spine. She’d barely escaped by the skin of her teeth. She wouldn’t be so lucky again.

  What about her? Although he set her pulse racing, did she want to marry an outlaw? Someone always on the run? Hunted like a wild animal? A husband who could be shot or hanged at any time, and maybe leave her with children to raise alone?

  Wasn’t this what she sought to escape from?

  A tiny voice whispered in her ear: Honey, you’re no better than he is. For sure, she and Jack were two of a kind…and he didn’t even know it yet.

  She jumped when he placed his mouth to her ear. “There’s a cave nearby. We’ll hole up there until I decide our next move.” His gray gaze sought hers. “I have to know something right now before we go further.”

  “Sure.”

  “Given the opportunity, will you cry out and turn me in? Let the posse take me?”

  Nora studied his face, saw the pain dulling his eyes, saw a hint of his tortured past and knew the answer. “No. I think you suffer enough. If they arrest you, it won’t be by my doing.”

  Relief eased his stony features. “Good to know. Then be as quiet as possible in case that rider or others are close.”

  With a nod, Nora gripped his hand and let him lead her from the ravine. But was he saving her or, like Flynn, leading her into greater danger?