Lionhearted Libby

by Joyce Armor

  “Parley said it was two men. She was sitting on the bench in front of the mercantile waiting for Clem. Corley Peters saw one of them hit her, hard enough to knock her out.” He uttered the last sentence through clenched teeth as Jackson’s visage turned grim.

  The two men led their horses down the alley and quickly discerned where the kidnappers had tied their horses in waiting. Skilled trackers both, they also could see where the horses left the alley, one carrying noticeably more weight than the other. Garrett had a moment of utterly inappropriate levity as he thought how Libby would probably hate it that her weight enabled them to track her.

  The men determinedly followed the tracks out of town, losing them temporarily as they mingled with too many tracks inside the city limits but picking them up again outside of town. It quickly became apparent the outlaws were heading toward Drummond or Butte, a two-day ride to the latter city. The kidnappers had a four-hour head start, but Garrett and Jackson rode top stock and were confident they could catch them before they reached Butte, if that was their destination.

  They wouldn’t find them until after nightfall, however, and Garrett had to force himself not to dwell on what could happen to Libby when the men stopped for the night. He didn’t believe they could make the two-day trip without stopping. Libby was courageous, he knew, but no match for two brutes. It made him prod his gelding to go even faster, and Jackson didn’t complain. He was just as anxious to catch up with the criminals. The men had been furious when they had learned Libby appeared to be unconscious as she was carried down the alley.

  Tracking and riding, Garrett thought about Libby and what she meant to him. He did not love her, of course, and never would love any woman. She was too independent and reckless for her own good, not genteel the way a woman should be. And certainly not biddable. That was laughable. He had married her to keep her safe, as he would do for any woman in trouble. Even an ugly woman? Well, probably. Maybe. She sure was passionate in bed, but that’s where he had to be careful so she wouldn’t worm her way into his heart. No, he didn’t love her, but why was he so desperate to get her back? And to beat senseless the men who kidnapped her? Because she was his, he decided. And it was a matter of right and wrong. That he understood.

  As they followed the trail southeast toward Drummond, the determined pursuers stopped at a stream to rest and water the horses. The ranchers understood the value and needs of their livestock and would never run them into the ground. As anxious as they were, they knew stopping would increase the horses’ stamina and pay off in the end.

  At the stream’s edge, Garrett scooped water into his hat to drink and looked at his friend. “They’re not even trying to cover their tracks.”

  Jackson nodded. “I don’t think these men are geniuses.”

  “If they hurt Libby any more than they already have…”

  “Let’s not borrow trouble, son.”

  Garrett took a long drink and poured the remaining water over his head, which he shook like a dog before running his fingers through his hair. He felt about ready to explode. He had to stop thinking about Libby before he went crazy.

  After slaking his own thirst, Jackson sighed. “I shouldn’t have let her go to town.”

  “She was going a little batty being shut in, and you may have noticed she’s a might headstrong. I doubt you could have stopped her. This isn’t your fault.”

  Jackson sat on a rock and cleaned mud off his boots with a stick. “It’s hard to believe we didn’t even know Libby existed a few weeks ago.”

  Garrett couldn’t help but smile. “She definitely grows on you, doesn’t she?”

  Jackson studied the younger man, whom he thought of as a son. “That she does, Garrett. Let’s go get her.”

  * * *

  This headache was even worse than the last one. Her jaw ached, her nose throbbed and even her hair hurt. The bouncing didn’t help either. Bouncing? Why was she bouncing? Ouch! And why was the air so stale? Libby, never one to make precipitous decisions before she had all the facts—oh, except for moving West on a moment’s notice; oh yes, and leaving the ranch without telling anyone—tried to gather her thoughts. What happened? Where was she?

  And then it slowly came back to her. The disgusting cowboys. She thought she could smell one of them now. Oh, Lord. She was wrapped in a stinky old blanket and hanging over a horse like a sack of grain. And one of them had hit her! Oh, they would be in such trouble when Garrett caught them.

  That was interesting. She knew she liked Garrett but hadn’t realized how much she trusted him. And counted on him. She had no doubt he would come. Not a one. She did not know, however, if it would be in time. She had to think, although the bouncing and the headache were almost too much to bear. Even if she could manage to throw herself off the horse, that wouldn’t do her much good. The ruffians would just go back and recapture her, especially since she just realized her hands and feet were tied. Too tightly. That hurt, too. Not to mention she truly didn’t think her head could take another blow when it landed on the hard ground. Think! What would Kit Carson the Happy Warrior do? Well, he wouldn’t have left his reticule with the pistol in it behind, would he? Although, in her defense, she was unconscious at the time of the abduction.

  And then it came to her. She remembered those leering looks. As rough and painful as the bouncing horse was, it could be far preferable to whatever happened when they stopped. That just about made her toss her breakfast. She had to have a plan. She was weaponless, except for the pin on her broach, which she could probably reach, even with her hands tied, once she was out of this rug. Not quite as effective as a gun, however. She’d have to work a little harder to use her brain, which had definitely taken a blow and was sluggish. It was so hard to concentrate. Still, she forced herself to think amidst the throbbing. The best idea she could come up with was to pretend to still be unconscious when they stopped and took her off the horse. Surely they would have to stop sometime. And surely they would not accost her when she was insensible. At least it might buy her some time, time enough for Garrett to save her. Again.

  It could not have been more than 10 or 15 minutes later that the horse she was on pulled jarringly up.

  “Come on, Dooley, I’m tuckered out. Let’s camp for the night. Nobody’s following us.”

  She heard the other nefarious gunman reining in.

  “I’m gittin’ hungry, too. There’s a crick about a mile ahead, remember, Chad? We’ll stop there.”

  “I can’t believe what easy money this is. Wish we had more jobs like this.”

  “Yeah. This was shore easy. She wasn’t as ornery as that there fella said.”

  Bounce, bounce, pain, bounce, pain and more bouncing. And more pain. In that last mile before they stopped, Libby had an opportunity to think about how foolish she had been. Why, oh, why did she have to go to town? And why did she sit on the bench, out in the open, when she knew how evil and desperate her stepfather and Edward DeJulius were? Arrogance. Pure arrogance on her part. She had thought her marriage to Garrett had solved all her problems. Well, she had paid for her lack of insight and could be paying more in the future. The near future. There was no telling what would happen before Garrett found her. She wasn’t much for praying, since it had never seemed to work too well in St. Louis, although the Parminters went to church every Sunday like clockwork so everyone could see them. She shot off a prayer, just in case and felt somehow more at peace.

  Then her horse stopped again and the smelly cowboy untied the rope that was holding her on the saddle and unceremoniously dumped her on the ground, where she rolled out of the filthy blanket. Ow! That hurt. She wanted to touch her tied hands to the cut she was pretty sure she now had on her cheek, as she felt a warm stream flowing down her face, but didn’t dare. Keeping with her plan, she kept her eyes closed and her jaw slack as if still unconscious.

  “Jesus, Chad, don’t kill her. We’re supposed to get her there alive.”

  “I thought she’d be awake by now.”

&nb
sp; “You hit her dang hard.”

  Chad smiled. “Yeah.”

  The men set up camp in a clearing, with a little creek on one side and wooded areas on two sides. After they unsaddled their horses, Dooley led them to the creek, while Chad gathered kindling and wood for a fire. After Dooley took care of the horses, hobbling them near the creek, he walked over to Libby and looked down at her.

  “She’s a looker,” he said.

  “Yeah, I noticed her shape right off. I figured we’d make ‘er cook for us, but I guess that’s not gonna happen.”

  Dooley kicked her, but not hard, just trying to rouse her, to no apparent avail.

  “You better drag ‘er closer to the fire so she don’t freeze tonight.”

  Dooley spit near her head and it about killed her not to react, but she somehow managed it. Then he leaned down, grabbed her at the shoulders and dragged her the 20 or 30 feet toward the fire. If she hadn’t already had a vicious headache, her head bumping along the uneven ground would have given her one. At least she was on her back, so it was the back of her head taking the beating, not her face. She doubted Dooley would have cared one way or another.

  “Go git us a rabbit or a squirrel, Dooley,” Chad ordered.

  “Yeah, okay, I’m a better shot than you anyways.”

  As he trudged off, Libby subtly struggled against the ropes tying her hands without alerting Chad and prayed that Garrett would find her before something worse happened. Her eyes were closed, but she could feel Chad staring at her, and it took all her concentration to keep from shuddering. And then she heard him get up and shuffle toward her.

  Chapter 13

  Garrett and Jackson had to slow down to make sure they didn’t lose the tracks, but they could feel they were getting close. And then they heard a distant gunshot, pulled up and looked at each other.

  “Let’s go!”

  They spurred their horses and took off at a gallop toward the forested area where the shot had originated. Please, please, please, don’t let it be Libby, Garrett was praying, and Jackson’s thoughts were similar. They couldn’t have come this far to lose her now. Garrett felt absolutely frantic; he had to steel himself to calm down.

  As they entered the forest, they came upon an outcropping of large rocks and decided to tether their horses behind the rocks and proceed on foot. Jackson had taught Garrett, when he was still a teen, how to travel the land soundlessly, and no one did it better. The two men made their way through the woods toward a thrashing sound.

  Silently, Garrett nudged Jackson’s shoulder and nodded ahead, where Dooley was clomping through the brush, trying to ferret out some critter. They could easily have taken him, but Jackson indicated they should follow him, and Garrett nodded. They watched from behind a couple of massive Douglas firs as Dooley cried out triumphantly and emerged from the brush clutching a scrawny rabbit by the back feet.

  He turned with his catch and began tromping back toward the camp, making about as much noise as an elephant rampaging through the forest. Garrett just looked at Jackson, shaking his head. Slowly, noiselessly, they began following him.

  * * *

  Back in camp, Chad sidled up to Libby’s prone and wilted figure and gaped down at her lasciviously. She knew it even though her eyes were closed. She hoped he couldn’t see her skin crawling. Then he bent down and moved a lock of hair off her cheek. When Garrett did that it was tender and sensuous. Now it was just obscene. She wondered if he could feel her heart pounding in fear and tried to buck up her courage. Where was Lionhearted Libby when she needed her? She had just had that thought when Chad grabbed her chin and turned her head from side to side, studying her face. He let go, and for a moment she thought she was safe, but then he suddenly grabbed both her breasts. She couldn’t help herself; she shrieked.

  “I suspicioned you were awake. Good, it’ll be more fun that way.”

  She tried to squirm away, to no avail. He grabbed her dress at the neck and ripped viciously downward, exposing her camisole. She hadn’t even worn stays. The man sat back on his heels for a moment to enjoy the view he had created, and Libby bent her knees, then kicked at his crotch as hard as she could. He turned just in time to avoid the blow to his family jewels but caught it in the thigh and stumbled backwards.

  “You bitch!” He jumped up, pulled her up by her camisole and slapped her so hard she saw stars. Then he threw himself on top of her as she screamed and fought him with all her diminished might, clawing and biting her attacker.

  At that point Dooley appeared at the campsite with his sad little rabbit. “Chad, what are you doin’? I don’t think we weren’t supposed to hurt her too much.”

  “Get lost, Dooley! Come back in a while,” Chad ground out as he planted his smelly lips on Libby’s battered face.

  She bit his lip and he yelled, smacking her again. That’s when a bullet hit him in the forehead, sending him crashing backwards onto the ground. Dooley dropped the rabbit and struggled to pull out his pistol as Jackson and Garret rushed the camp. The outlaw got his gun out of his holster but didn’t have time to bring it up before both Garrett and Jackson shot him in the chest. He sank to the ground like a stone.

  As Jackson cautiously approached the fallen men, he turned to Garrett. “Go.”

  Garrett pivoted and hastened to Libby, who shook uncontrollably and sobbed. As he reached for her, she shrunk back. He spoke to her soothingly and gently gathered her up into his arms. “You’re safe, Libby. I’ve got you.”

  She looked at him with the saddest, bleakest eyes. “G…Garrett? I knew you would come. I knew it.”

  That plaintive statement warmed him right down to his hard heart. “We got here as soon as we could.”

  Garrett looked over her head at Jackson, who shook his head, indicating the second outlaw was dead. He held his young wife for 10, 15, 20 minutes, rocking her gently. Meanwhile, Jackson headed off and retrieved the horses. Gradually her crying lessened and then finally ceased, but she still trembled.

  “Do you want to camp here for the night, Libby, and rest up?”

  She looked at Garrett almost as if she didn’t see him, which scared him more than her previous look.

  “Libby?”

  “I…I want to go h…home,” she said in almost a whisper, and his heart nearly splintered in pieces. Was she ready to go back to St. Louis? He wouldn’t blame her, but he wasn’t ready to let her go. “Home?”

  “To the ranch. Please, Garrett.”

  Thank God. He looked at Jackson. “Let’s go home then.”

  Garrett picked Libby up and carried her to his horse. As he passed Jackson, he stopped.

  Jackson smiled at Libby but addressed Garrett. “I’ll clean up here, then head to Deer Lodge and let the sheriff know about this.”

  “Bring the doctor.”

  Libby raised her head from Garrett’s shoulder. “I don’t need a doctor,” she insisted. “I’ll be all right.”

  The men ignored her.

  “We’ll meet you back at the ranch.”

  Jackson placed a hand on Libby’s head. He thought she might shrink back, but she didn’t. “We’ll get through this, Lib. The Buttermans come from strong stock.”

  She didn’t exactly smile, but she calmed a little, which Garrett took as a good sign. She clung to him as Jackson lifted her onto Garrett’s gelding. She looked down at Jackson, took a deep breath and spoke quietly.

  “It was my fault. I…I should not have gone to town.”

  “Hush.”

  “I stopped being careful. I thought I was safe. When I get my strength back, I have to leave. I feel at home here, but I can’t stay.”

  “You’re not leaving, Libby,” Garrett said. “You’re my wife. We just underestimated the opposition. It will not happen again. We’ll keep you safe. I swear it. Now hold onto the horn.”

  “Bossy,” she murmured, and he couldn’t help but smile.

  He pulled her bottom snugly against his loins, which responded to the impact. He felt guilty entertaining lus
tful thoughts when she was so battered and pained, but they didn’t easily go away.

  Hours later, after stopping twice to rest the horse and try, unsuccessfully, to get Libby to eat some of the beef and cheese they had packed, Garrett reined in his horse at the top of the knoll overlooking the ranch house.

  “There it is,” he announced. He thought Libby might be sleeping.

  “Home,” she sighed softly. “I’ll never get over how beautiful it looks from here.”

  He adjusted his position uncomfortably and then said, “Libby…Did those men…did they…”

  “No,” she sobbed. “You got there in time. You saved me, Garrett.”

  “Yes, you’re safe now,” he said, his heart nearly bursting with relief and something like pride.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Garrett, Jackson and Carmen waited anxiously downstairs while the doctor examined and treated Libby.

  “What’s taking so long?” Garrett had been pacing for what seemed like an hour.

  “You want him to be thorough, don’t you? Sit down, son. Give your boots and our nerves a rest.”

  Earlier, Carmen had fixed Libby a hot bath and washed her down. The girl had been teary but stoic and kept scrubbing her body long after Carmen had finished. The older woman understood.

  “Chica, everything will be all right. Those evil men have paid the price for their wickedness. Your husband and father will not let anyone get you again.”

  “Did anyone hurt my mother when she lived here? Is that why she left?”

  “Your mother was young and beautiful and soft. She wanted pretty things and a gay life, remember, not the life of a rancher. You are made of stronger stock. You know the things that matter in life.”

  “I do?” she asked tearfully. “What are they?”

  Carmen smiled. “That is for you to decide and believe, Libby, but know this. You have brought life and joy to the Butterman Ranch and have already changed two men set in their ways.”