Winning the Lady (Book 4 of the Red River Valley Brides)

by Hestand, Rita

  "As many as I've seen come and go in a game, I can't get used to it. He was just a cowboy with a bad temper. Who would have thought he'd pull something like this?" Gil muttered.

  "Cowboys have a bad habit of being bad sports sometimes. I guess some are born that way. And some acquire their meanness from bein' on the trails too long. No women for a long time. Not much sleep, or rest. Gotta be a hard life." The sheriff sipped some of their coffee and set his tin cup down by the rocks around the fire. "You get some sleep. Ron's a good tracker. If he wasn't, I wouldn't have sent him. He'll let us know what he finds."

  "Sheriff, I know you are doing all you can. I do. But there is no way I'm gonna sleep." Gil jumped up and began to pace in the rain. "She's my responsibility."

  "Well, then be quiet while I do," the sheriff said.

  "You say he's a good tracker?" Gil muttered as he laid his head on his saddle. "How do you know that?"

  "Mighty good. That's why I hired him. He's no fast gun, but he can track anything. He's part Indian. He was a scout with the army for some years, and he's very good. They want him back, but he's tired of it and wants no part of the military. He keeps his eyes open, sees things others might miss. He's a good man, a good scout."

  Gil almost laughed. "Can't say as I blame him for wanting to stay away from the military.."

  "You been in the army?"

  "I did a short stint with them. Hated it. Don't know if it was the orders they kept trashing me with, or what, but when I could, I got out. I was with a regiment that seemed to take particular pride in raiding the Indians. Indians who were simply trying to find some sort of life on a reservation where there was little food or shelter. I got out before I overloaded my mouth about it. It wasn't a popular subject."

  "Well, sir, the Indians didn't get a fair shake from the government, but then they were guilty of a lot of murders too. It's a two-sided subject, for sure."

  "True, that was my problem. I couldn't decide which side I was on."

  The sheriff smiled and scooted down in his bed, covering everything but his face. "Get some sleep."

  Sleep eluded Gil most of the night. Was he in love with Trish? Did he have any right to be? And if he wasn't in love with her, why did he miss her so terribly? This new feeling made him uneasy.

  The next day was no better, it was still raining and the sheriff didn't look as though he was going to go any farther.

  "Aren't we gonna move out?" Gil asked.

  "Nope, we're gonna wait here for Ron."

  Gil was ready to strangle him. How could a man use such logic at a time like this?

  The sheriff watched him pace and stare out through the rain. "You might as well forget it, son. There's no way you can find your way in this. Sometimes Mother Nature has more to say about things than we do, and right now, she's sayin' stop."

  "Where'd you get all that backwoods logic, Sheriff?"

  "From an old aunt who raised me. If she wasn't preachin' to me, she was tellin' stories of the old timers and how hard they had it. My folks died early on, so she was all I had. I loved that old woman. Guess some of what she said stuck. Some things a man doesn't talk about but…do you believe in God?"

  Gil thought about that. "A timeless question, sheriff. Yes. You see… there was this old gambler, the one I learned from. He made money and lost money, sometimes in the same night. He believed. He was shot during a poker game. His dying words affected me more than I care to admit. He looked up at me as I held him in my arms and said, 'There is a hereafter, son. There is a God. Believe it, son, believe it or throw your chips in the pot…for you cannot win the game without him.' He died in my arms, and the look on his face was so peaceful, so dramatic. He hadn't lived a perfect life, but I truly think he died a content death. I somehow knew he was in a better place. Although many had preached to me before, but when I saw his face, I knew…"

  The sheriff stared at him a long while. "A man that don't believe can't die like that. Can't die content. And I believe the good will prevail, no matter what."

  "But there are a lot of people who don't. A lot of people who die morbid deaths and sometimes the expressions on their faces are grotesque."

  "Yeah, I've seen a few of those, especially on the gallows. Only had one hangin' I really felt bad about. He was a young fella, and I was just the deputy who brought him in for trial. He was convicted on circumstantial evidence. I didn't think him guilty. When he went to the gallows though, well, you should have seen his face. It was different I tell ya. His face shone, he smiled, and that smile was still there when they dropped him. I think he was innocent, and I think God took care of him up there on that gallows. To this day, I'll never forget his face. The man had to be innocent or right with God, that one."

  Gil nodded. "Sometimes things like that live with you for the rest of your life. As though you were meant to see it, to remember it."

  "Yeah, I think you're right." After a moment, the sheriff turned away, not looking at Gil. "You and this lady are not married, are you?" the sheriff asked out of the blue.

  Gil startled. "H-how did you know that?"

  "Just a hunch. A sheriff works from hunches a lot. I do sense a silent commitment there. Something more than just you wanting to help her."

  Gil wrestled with that. "A silent commitment?"

  "You haven't told her how you feel. How come?"

  "Sheriff, I don't want to bore you…"

  "Oh, we got time. Ron won't be back for a spell. Go ahead, tell me," he offered.

  Gil wasn't a man to confide in a person, but there was something compelling about this sheriff that had him recounting the story.

  When he was through the sheriff shook his head. "So she's still married?"

  "Hard to say how the law would look at it. He abandoned her and then refused her a divorce. He also mistreated her. She's had some raw deals in life. I want to help her."

  "Legally, they are married. But, what he did… even though it's been done before, it ain't legal. He abandoned her, is what he did. I can't begin to imagine why since I've seen her myself. But sometimes, what we see on the outside isn't the same as what is on the inside. But you seem to think that what is on the inside is good, and I imagine you would know. So, what are you going to do about it?"

  "Do?" Gil asked.

  "She's your woman, isn't she?"

  "N-no, she isn't. You don't own a person. She is my… companion."

  "Hell, man, she's the woman you love. You got a contract with her for three years. She can't be free for three years. And yet, I can see just by looking at you that you love her. If I was you, I'd tell her how I felt about her."

  Gil squirmed. "It's complicated."

  "You are a gambler. A good-looking man, young, and, by the looks of you, can make good money. You could have your choice of women it would seem. Yet you hook yourself up with a woman who is married and can't do much about it, who has been with other men. Why…"

  "I've asked myself that question before. The only answer is… she brings me luck."

  "In more ways than you seem to realize." The sheriff chuckled.

  "Look, she went to this Chester Smith to get a divorce. He wouldn't give it. She offered to pay for it herself. He still wouldn't budge. She's stuck. I feel sorry for her. If I hadn't have taken her in, she would either be in the streets begging for food or in a saloon."

  "You may not be ready to admit it, but you feel more than sorry for her. You don't have to involve yourself, yet you do. You didn't even have to take her on from the bet, but you did. That makes you a man of character. Now you have to be an even bigger man and admit the truth—why you really saved her."

  "We're partners."

  "Yep, in more ways than one."

  "Now, look, I've never touched her," Gil blurted.

  "Well, that's a first. I guess I've never met a real gentleman gambler before." The sheriff chuckled lowly. "But somehow, I sorta guessed that about you. Men like yourself are hard to find. Men with character."

  "Is that wh
at it is? Character?" Gil asked as he made his bed and climbed in.

  The sheriff eyed him closely. "I think so."

  Chapter Fourteen

  The room was musty, a dark bedroom with very little furniture. Since there were no windows, Trish wasn't sure where she was. The room was dark and only the light under the door made things visible. But Eb lit a small lamp and she looked at him with disgust.

  "I'm gonna untie you, because there is nowhere for you to go. You're out in the woods, miles from any town or community. You'll get lost if you try to escape, so just remember what I've told you. Noel's wife and kids are due back any time so I don't want you tied up, but one word to them and you and them are dead, understand?" Eb asked, eyeing her with precision.

  "I understand." She temporarily resigned herself to her fate. She couldn't let him see her fear though. She had to try to remain calm.

  "Good. Now, you be real helpful around them. And just remember, we are gonna have our time together. That's a promise. If you act right, you might survive it. If not, then I'll just have to kill every one of you." He pulled her by the hair, and Trish shrieked. "Now get out there and act like the lady you are."

  As Eb shoved her toward the front room, Noel watched. From his expression, he didn't like what Eb was doing, but Trish couldn't be sure if they were in cahoots or not. She only knew he was as interested in her as Eb.

  Before noon, Noel's family arrived. His wife Margaret burst in with lots of news from town, and the kids followed in one long rush. Noel had four children of different ages and sizes. His wife was still pretty even though the dress she wore had no color. Her beauty shone around her. Her beauty came from within, Trish noted.

  Margaret glanced at her and put her hands on her hips. "What's this all about?" She eyed her husband with suspicion.

  "That's Eb's gal," Noel replied, sending her some silent message with his eyes.

  "Eb's gal. Well, what's your name, child?" The woman edged closer to her.

  Trish extended her hand to the woman. "I'm Trish."

  "Trish, I'm Margaret, and these here are my kids—Pamela, Rebecca, Robbie, and Cully." She smiled at her as the kids gathered around to gawk at Trish.

  Trish nodded with a smile.

  "She looks a might too pretty for Eb." Margaret laughed.

  "That's the truth." Noel nodded.

  "Where you from?" Margaret asked.

  "I'm from Veda."

  "Veda, that's a piece from here. How did you meet up with Eb?"

  "In a poker game. I was at the table, watching."

  Margaret eyed her now with a slight frown. "You one of them dance-hall gals?"

  "Not exactly, no…" She started to explain, but Eb walked in behind her and put his arms around her.

  "Quit bein' so nosey, Margaret. It's enough that she belongs to me." Eb grabbed Trish around the neck and pulled her against him. He bent his head to kiss her, and she turned it so he kissed her on the ear.

  "Did you marry her, Eb?" Margaret sounded skeptical.

  "Marry her? Hell no, I didn't marry her. What would I do that fer?"

  Margaret glanced at her husband. "Then she's a hussy?"

  "No, she ain't. She's my girl. We'll get around to marryin', I reckon. In time, maybe." Eb obviously wanted to satisfy Margaret for some reason.

  "Well, you should get around to it soon, Eb. She'll get a reputation if you don't," Margaret scolded.

  Noel still hadn't said anything.

  "Don't you fret about that, Margaret. She's mine, and that's the end of it. Right, Noel?"

  Noel nodded silently.

  "Well now, we better get some food on the table. Can you help me, Trish?"

  "Of course." Trish moved toward the woman.

  Margaret looked at her children, who were still starin'. "Run along and play until I get the meal ready. I'll call you."

  The kids scampered outside and began playing games in the yard.

  "Now, Margaret, you can do without Trish," Eb began, and started to pull her onto his lap as he sat at the table.

  But Trish pulled just out of his reach. "I should help her, if we are gonna eat her food."

  Eb frowned at Noel. Noel just stood there. He didn't remark, didn't smile at his wife, didn't do anything, just stared at them.

  Trish sat at the other end of the table, away from Eb. Margaret handed her an apron and some potatoes, and Trish started peeling them. Margaret washed her hands before preparing the chicken and set the lard close by while she got the big iron skillet out of the cabinet.

  The chicken had just been killed, and blood ran down the counter. Margaret wiped it up and defeathered it before she cut it up. The woman was clean. Trish liked that about her.

  What Trish didn't like was that the woman seemed completely clueless of Eb and his plans.

  "Eb, you need to learn some manners, especially if you are gonna court a gal like that. And you need to get married if the gleam in your eye is to have her. I won't put up with no hanky-panky around me and the kids."

  "You want to fetch a preacher then," Eb hollered, glaring at her.

  "We'll see, but until we do, she sleeps with the kids, understood?"

  "Why, shore, Margaret. That's how I had it figured," Eb agreed way too readily. He cast Noel a knowing glance.

  He obviously had some kind of plan. Trish's stomach churned.

  "Your name Trish or Patricia?" Margaret asked as she took the peeled potatoes from Trish when she was done.

  "Just Trish. I don't think my folks could spell too good."

  The woman smiled. "Well now, Trish is a right good name, don't you fret."

  Trish saw something in the woman's face and realized instantly that this woman was savvy to Eb's tricks and wasn't at all happy about what he was trying to pull. She had found a friend who might help her, but they would have to be careful.

  "You have a lovely family." Trish joined her at the stove.

  Eb grabbed her hand and whirled her into his lap, though. "You can learn to cook later, darlin'. First I want a kiss."

  Trish almost froze. A kiss… How could she escape this?

  She moved her head, and he kissed her ear again. He wrestled with her, but she struggled against him.

  Margaret turned around and put her hands back on her hips. "None of that, Eb. You leave that girl alone."

  "She's my girl, Margaret. You leave me alone."

  "Not in this house, I won't. This is my house, mine and Noel's. And you ain't gonna carry on like some cave-man while I'm about."

  Eb eyed her, a sneer on his face, his yellow teeth bared. "Margaret, the rules are changing… fast."

  "What are you talking about?" Margaret stared at him as though he'd lost his mind. There was no fear in her face.

  "I'm takin' over this house now. And you'll abide by my rules, or you'll be a dead woman and so will those noisy kids out there too." Eb laughed, glancing out the window at them.

  "Noel?" Margaret turned to look at her husband.

  "Don't fret now, Maggie. He's the boss right now. We gotta do what he says."

  "What kind of man are you to let this one take over our home like this?" Margaret's eyes widened as she turned back to look at Eb then Trish. "What's goin' on here? She ain't your girl. I can tell by the way she acts. Who is she?" Margaret asked, her long fork poised above her waist.

  "She's a gambler's wife. I kidnapped her."

  "Lord, oh mercy! You didn't!"

  "I did, and if you know what's good fer ya, you'll shut up and feed us," Eb hollered, getting to his feet. "Now, me and this little gal is gonna go in the back room after we eat and lay down. And I don't want to be disturbed. If I am, I'll shoot you dead where you stand. I brought her out here to have her, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna make her mine, then I'm gonna beat her a little and send her back to that tin-horned gambler man. We'll see how he likes that."

  "Noel, did you know about this?" Margaret caught her hand to her chest and shook her head in sorrow.

&nbs
p; "Not 'til he showed up. Not much I could do with a gun on me, Maggie." Noel finally found his voice.

  Margaret came close to Eb now, still showing no signs of fear in her face. "You get you filthy hands off her, or I'll skin you alive."

  Eb slapped her across the room, making her fall against the wall. Noel made a move to help her, but Eb threw his hand up to stop him. "Keep a lid on that woman of yours, or I'll blow her head off, Noel."

  Trish started to help the woman up.

  Eb grabbed her. "Now, you come and sit on my lap and keep me company. She'll be fine unless she keeps that mouth of hers flappin'."

  "You didn't have to do that." Trish cried out as he jerked her around and sat down, flinging Trish onto his lap once more.

  He ran his hands over her, all of her. "You better mind your mouth too, honey, 'cause I shore know how to shut it."

  Noel helped Margaret up and held her close to him.

  "Why don't you let us leave?" Noel asked him.

  "Leave? Not on your life. She's gonna clean and cook for us. And someone's got to keep those kids corralled." He laughed as his hand stayed on Trish's breast.

  Trish turned bright red. She could feel her cheeks heating up. She felt a humiliation she'd never felt before. It amazed her that she could compare the two, but back at Al's, the cowboys only wanted a little emotional feeling for the long cattle drives, but this man wanted her blood, her dignity, her body.

  "The Lord will see to you, Eb," Margaret yelled as she went to the stove.

  "He ain't got a thing to do with me. More like the devil. Now…" He reached for his gun on his hip and aimed it at Margaret. "You are gonna do exactly as I say, or I'll kill the lot of you. Understand?"

  Margaret glanced at Trish, then her husband, then nodded silently.

  Trish tried to move. Eb jerked her back against him, his hand going over her breast once more. He pinched her there. She tried to slap him, but he caught her hand with his gun hand as it waved in the air. "Fight all you want. I'm going to have you real soon, girlie." He laughed at her.