* * *
Elias walked into the barn to allow the younger horses out for fresh air. As he walked after the animals, Filbert came in to view. “Howdy. Didn’t expect you’d be out and about today.” The older man chuckled at the hidden meaning. “Being newly married and all.”
As much as he wanted to ignore the old man, Elias laughed. “Can’t say I wanted to be away, but there’s much to get done.”
“Not really. You should spend the day with her. Everything all right?” Filbert looked past him to the house.
It was easy to talk to Filbert. The man had arrived shot and barely alive to his brother’s clinic. Upon surviving, he’d come to work for Elias. Not only did the man seem tireless and was efficient, but he was also a good confidant.
“She wants me to ask you to teach her how to cook. I showed her how to make fried eggs this morning, but I don’t think I can abide eating that twice a day.”
Filbert nodded. “Yeah, she looks to be high born, with her fine clothes and the way she carries herself. I bet maids did everything for her back east.”
There were many questions he wanted answered, but Elias knew he’d have to take his time and not seem rude. He hoped she’d volunteer information about her past as they got to know each other. However, one question remained forefront in his mind.
Why did she not have any children after seven years of marriage?
“...after I put the firewood away.” Filbert had been talking and he’d missed most of it.
Elias nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“What else?” Filbert placed the armload of wood down and cocked his head to the side with brows drawn. “You seem troubled. That’s not the face of a man just married to a fine lookin’ woman.”
Elias flushed and peered down at his boots before looking past the older man’s shoulder. “Just wondering how things will work out that’s all.”
“Mmm hmm.” Filbert scratched his head. “Like my departed wife used to say. Things always work out. May not be the way we expect or want, but they do.”
With that, Filbert hoisted the wood and walked away, whistling.
Interesting how the man seemed to belong there, almost as if it had been planned that way. Elias looked up to the sky and let out a breath. He smiled and shook his head. “Suppose you expect me to have faith in what you have planned. I’m not sure about all that right now.” He continued on into the stable to check on a mare that had been limping.
Dogs barked in the direction of the house as the pups bounded toward him. Their tongues lolled from the sides of their mouths as they raced with unbridled enthusiasm as if they’d not just seen him minutes earlier.
“Elias, there’s some riders heading this way.” Filbert appeared just minutes later. “From the pace, looks like they’ve got something urgent.”
His heart tumbled. Whatever it was could not be good. Men didn’t just ride out to his ranch to exchange pleasantries. Elias considered what the visit could be in reference to. Other than his new business venture in purchasing a hundred acres with his brothers nearby, he’d not any other reason for any kind of contention with nearby ranchers.
As they approached, he recognized the men. The McIntyre brothers owned land in the nearby valley. They neared, riding impressive horses that they bred.
The eldest, Jules McIntyre, held up a hand in greeting. “Came to warn you of some cattle rustlers in the area. We followed their tracks to near here and wondered if you noticed anything this morning?”
“Bastards took a hundred head, at least, while we were on a cattle drive. Killed a couple of our ranch hands.” Neil, the youngest brother, scanned the area. “They were headed this way as far as we can tell, probably went past your land. They seemed to be heading east.”
The danger of the matter made Elias look toward the house where Esther stood on the porch. Curious or prepared in case they were to entertain, she remained still, one hand on the railing.
“Nothin’ that I can tell,” Filbert answered for him. “But we haven’t ridden out to check the herds yet.”
Elias’ herds were smaller than Jules’. If someone stole half of what they’d taken from Jules’, he’d be in trouble. A buyer was expecting several hundred delivered in the spring.
The McIntyres left after talking for a few minutes. Esther rushed to him. “Is something wrong?”
“Cattle thieves. I’m going to check the fencing and herd. I need to count my cattle. It’ll take most of the day, so make sure you lock the door and stay inside until I get back.”
Her eyes rounded. “Do you think they’ll come here? To the house?”
Needing to reassure her, he wrapped his arm around her waist and walked her back to the house. “It’s doubtful. With as many cattle as they stole, my guess is they’ve hightailed it. Getting as far as possible before the McIntyres got back.”
A shiver went through her. Not for the first time, Elias wondered if he’d made a huge mistake in marrying a woman not used to life in the west.
Chapter 11
Esther sat with sewing in her lap, her gaze moving from the windows to the door. She was alone in the middle of nowhere with only two dogs for protection.
Although Elias had left a loaded shotgun on the table, the idea of even touching it made her want to cry.
Of all the things to happen just a day after being married, this was not anything like what she expected.
Today should have been a day of silly giggles, blushing over what had occurred in the honeymoon bed and waiting with anticipation for her husband to return after checking on the animals in the barn and more private time together.
Not this. Not this at all.
One of the dogs grunted and Esther practically jumped out of her skin. A shadow passed the window and she covered her mouth to stifle a gasp, only to feel silly when realizing it was just a branch from the tree outside swaying in the wind.
The same dog’s ears perked up and the second did the same. With snorts and soft barks, they rushed to the front door and pawed at it.
Esther remained stock-still. The dogs looked to her as if asking why she didn’t allow them out.
Had they heard something? Perhaps, Elias had returned. If so, he’d insisted she not open until he or Filbert called out her name.
“Help me. Help me, please,” the faint, masculine voice repeated. The sound was met with deep barks as the dogs responded to the stranger. “I need help.”
Unsure of what was best, Esther went to the side window and peered out from the corner. Her heart thudded so hard that she could barely breathe. At the sight of the bloody man, it banged against her breastbone.
The man’s bloody hand left a thick stain on the post when he pulled himself up to stand. His unsteady gaze searched the door and windows before he closed his eyes and leaned on the post. “Please.”
Unable to take it anymore, Esther flew to the door and opened it. “What happened to you?”
Relieved, the man, who she now noticed was quite young, began to cry. “I got shot and fell off my horse. It’s been over a day. I’m dying.”
“Oh goodness. Come sit down.” She helped him limp to a chair on the porch but before she could get him to sit, he slumped forward having lost consciousness. Afraid of remaining outside in case whoever shot him had followed, she dragged him inside. Once that was done, she closed the door and barred it again.
* * *
It took a lot of struggling and washing up before Esther could finally see the still unconscious, young man’s injuries. He’d been shot twice. Once in the upper left portion of his chest and another bullet had entered just above the left hip. The chest wound showed signs the bullet had gone completely through. She wasn’t sure of the one on his side.
While she cleaned the wounds and dressed them, she kept an eye on the door. Elias would be angry.
Furious even.
Surely, he would understand her inability to remain idly by while someone could have died?
At least, she hoped he w
ould. There was much she didn’t know about her new husband. The boy, who she decided couldn’t be more than sixteen, stirred occasionally and seemed to have fallen asleep by his even breathing.
She covered him with a blanket and moved away.
Both hands trembled as Esther reached for the shotgun. Nonetheless, despite it all, she wasn’t addle-minded as to leave the weapon near a total stranger. Esther returned to the chair where she’d been sitting, the sewing now forgotten, with the shotgun across her lap. She waited for her husband to come home.
* * *
“Ma’am?” At the injured boy’s call, Esther jerked her head up and blinked. She’d fallen asleep.
The young man looked to her with a hopeful expression. “May I have some water, please?”
“Yes...of course.” She eyed him, wondering if it were possible for him to snatch her arm when she approached. Of course, it would be difficult to give him anything to eat or drink without nearing.
“I’ll turn away if you wish.” He seemed to read her mind and grimaced as he turned to his uninjured side to face the wall.
“Are you hungry?” Esther asked, placing a cup of water next to a plate with cold ham and a biscuit. “Let me know if you need help.”
The boy turned and shuffled to sit with his back to the wall. All color drained from his face and he moaned from the pain the movements caused. “Thank you for helping me. I’ll leave in a few minutes. Just need to get this in my belly. Which way is town?”
No sooner had he finished his food, he fell into an exhausted slumber. Once again, Esther covered him with the blanket.
She’d not asked his name or how he’d been shot, figuring the less she knew the better. It wasn’t as if she’d ever see him again in all probability. Unless...
“Oh no.” The whisper made the dogs turn to her. What if the men who shot him followed his trail and planned to kill him? Would they come there? Esther rushed to one window and then the next, peering into the distance for any signs of riders approaching.
There was noone about, but just to be sure, Esther looked out of all the windows again. Once again back in the chair, she continued guarding the house, as the young man slept soundly.
“Esther.” Elias had arrived and the young boy stirred, but didn’t wake. Esther swallowed and she stood shakily to open the door.
It took longer than it should have to lift the bar from across the door. Her hands shook so badly, she could barely get them to function.
Before greeting Elias, she scanned him from head to toe to ensure he was not injured before collapsing against him. “There is something you must know.”
It was too late. He’d spotted the injured man and pushed her behind him to move to where the boy lay.
With an expression of astonishment and disbelief, he looked from her to the boy. “Can you explain to me why you allowed a man inside the house?”
“He’s not much more than a boy...injured and bleeding. I couldn’t very well let him die on the porch.”
Elias drew his gun and shook the boy roughly. When Esther started to protest, it only took one look and she stepped back. She was unsure if she wanted to see this side of her husband. Did he plan to kill the young man she’d just spent hours nursing?
If he planned to hurt him, Esther would not stand aside idly.
It was one thing to be subservient, but there was no question in her mind, she’d not remain married to a cruel man. Esther could never respect someone who would hurt a young boy who’d already been shot and was obviously too ill to defend himself.
Chapter 12
By the horrified expression on his wife’s face, she thought him cruel. What she didn’t understand was how dangerous the situation could have been. Alone, with a stranger in the house. The man could have been pretending only to take advantage of her later.
Yes, it was a sad, cruel life in the west. One had to be wary and always on guard against men who traveled about just to cause harm, rob and kill.
“I won’t shoot him. I just want to talk to him,” he said, not looking away from the injured man who seemed to be fighting to open his eyes.
Elias nudged him with his boot. “Wake up.”
The injured man finally woke. When the man saw Elias, he pulled himself upright and slid back to lean against the wall. The entire time, grimacing in pain.
“Who are you? Who shot you?” Elias didn’t have time for this. There was much work to do and, now, with the impediment of a stranger in the house, he couldn’t leave Esther alone.
The young man swallowed visibly and cleared his throat. “Wyatt Sullivan, sir. I don’t know who shot me.” When he looked away, Elias knew he lied.
“Don’t lie to me. You know very well who shot you. Speak up unless you want another hole in your gut.”
Esther gasped. Although he was already pale, the injured man turned a ghostly shade of gray.
“I was with a group of men. They came to steal cows. I didn’t want to go along with it all. Told them so and one of them shot me.” Wyatt looked about to cry and Elias realized he was barely of age.
“How old are you?”
“Fourteen, sir.”
“Fourteen...” Elias repeated then looked to Esther. She appeared on the verge of tears herself. “For goodness’ sake, don’t cry,” Elias said to the boy, hoping it would stop his wife from doing so as well.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The boy sniffed. “It’s just, I’m hurting really bad. I’ll go on, if you don’t mind helping me up.” Wyatt struggled to stand, wobbling until he had to lean on the wall again. His breathing labored. He looked to Elias with a hopeful expression. His eyebrows lifted and his lips pressed into a thin line. “I thank you for helping me, ma’am,” he said to Esther after a quick glance in her direction.
Elias looked to Esther, who mirrored the boy’s expression. “We can’t let him go like this. Can’t he stay in the bunkhouse with Filbert until he heals?”
As if summoned by her words, there was a knock on the door. Filbert walked in after Elias called him to enter.
Upon seeing his drawn gun, Filbert stopped dead in his tracks and looked between the three people. “What’s goin’ on?”
“I brought this injured boy in who’d stumbled up on the porch,” Esther offered by way of explanation. With both hands over her mouth, she looked to Elias. “I didn’t mean to overstep. It was obvious to me he was in horrible shape. Please, let him stay until he heals.”
Elias holstered his gun, feeling a bit silly holding it up as if the situation called for extreme measures. “It was foolish. You could have been hurt.” He slid a glance at the boy, who looked on the verge of passing out.
With a resigned sigh, he went to the kid and helped him lower to a nearby chair. “Filbert, help me take him to the bunkhouse. He’s not in any shape to go anywhere.”
“Thank you,” the boy said and then passed out.
Elias wasn’t sure how he’d deal with his wife. As far as he knew, the husband had the final say in things. However, it didn’t sit well with him to have to lecture or set rules for an adult. She was smart and, from what he could tell, independent and not at all what he’d consider foolish. However, there was much Esther didn’t know about the west. Many people died because of ploys by men out to do harm.
They carried the injured boy to the bunkhouse and placed him down on an empty bed. Filbert hurried to start a fire to warm the large area up and then brought blankets. “I’ll go fetch some water.” He headed out with a bucket in hand.
Esther watched over them. “Can I check his injuries?” She looked to Elias with pleading. “Just to be sure the stitches haven’t torn.”
Elias nodded, unable to speak at the moment. Unsettled by the idea of how much harm could have come to her, he wasn’t prepared for the additional sense of not liking her touching another male. It was ridiculous to be jealous of a young boy. However, a part of him resisted the idea of standing by. Instead of watching, he went to stand by the fireplace.
�
��I understand why you felt it was the right thing to do. To bring him in. However, there are so many things that could have happened.”
His wife straightened, seeming satisfied that the boy’s injuries had not been made worse. She came to him and placed a hand on his forearm. The warmth of it seeped through his thick jacket.
“Yes, you are right. I was so scared, I admit it. A part of me almost left him out there on the porch until you returned. It was obvious he wasn’t in any shape to harm me. He could have been injured and sent by someone hiding out of sight. He could have been acting to get inside... so many scenarios. They all played in my mind. However, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if he’d died there, just within reach because of my fears.”
Elias was left with nothing to say. Realizing the possible consequences, she’d still done it. Helped out the injured boy.
When Filbert returned, looking first to the boy and then to them. He dipped a cloth into the water and placed it on the boy’s forehead with care. Then he checked the wounds while Esther, who’d now moved to stand beside him, told him about the injuries and what she’d done.
“You did a mighty fine job, Miss Esther. I’ll see about him, don’t you worry. Got plenty of training working for Doctor Jones in town. I’m heating up leftover chili. We’ll both have that.”
At the mention of food, Esther looked to Elias with alarm. “I didn’t cook. I forgot to cook.” She began crying and it was all he could do not to run straight to the stables, mount his horse and ride away. He’d not counted on how complicated a woman could make his life.
He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I’ll fry some eggs and we’ve got some leftover bread.”
At his statement, she cried harder and ran out of the bunkhouse.
Elias looked to Filbert who shrugged. “Don’t ask me. My wife never cried. Too mean to cry.” The man scratched his gray beard. “Then again, she did cry once when she shot herself in the foot.”
Esther, An Easter Bride (Brides for all Seasons Book 4) Page 5
