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Rocky Mountain Discipline

Page 82

by Lee Savino


  “Don’t know, girl. We’re here for her.” Jubal pointed a finger at Phoebe. “Come here, cripple. We’re taking you home.”

  The women all gasped.

  Trembling, Phoebe found she couldn’t move. Susannah put a hand on her shoulder, before going to stand with Esther.

  One of Phoebe’s cousin’s spat tobacco on the floor. “They’re all real pretty, Pa. Sure we can’t take one or two of them back with us?”

  Rose shrank in her seat, hands on her belly, normally proud face laced with fear. Carrie caught Mary in her arms, holding the toddler still.

  Esther shook her head. “No one’s taking Phoebe anywhere.”

  “This girl doesn’t belong to you, she belongs to us.”

  “Pawpaw said she’s to be my wife.” Jeb took a step forward, and Phoebe whimpered.

  Esther drew herself up. “Phoebe doesn’t belong to anyone but herself. And we’ll back her up on that. Besides, her husband’s right outside and he won’t think too kindly of you taking his bride.”

  “Husband?” Abel spat. “What sort of man would marry a cripple?”

  “Shut yer mouth, Abel. You’re talking about my betrothed,” Jeb said.

  Phoebe shuddered.

  “Enough, let’s get ‘er and go,” Abel said.

  The men started forward and Susannah pushed in front of Esther.

  “Not so fast.” The young blonde had her gun out, pointed right at Phoebe’s uncle Jubal. “Stay where you are.”

  “What are you going to do, little girl?” Jubal grinned, showing a mouth of rotten teeth. “Shoot me?”

  “If I have to,” Susannah said, firming her stand and raising the pistol. “I’m not the best shot either, so the rest of you better stand back if you don’t want to get hit.”

  “Dang, Pa, the little blonde one’s gotta gun on you,” Willie sniggered. Abel moved forward a little, and Jeb spat another wad of tobacco.

  “She’s not going to shoot me.” With a smirk, Jubal waded forward.

  Outside the men were standing around the empty lot.

  “Not a bad place to put a house,” Jesse said. “But Susannah wants to be closer to her friends.”

  “Rose certainly wants her close,” Lyle said.

  “So does Carrie,” Miles added.

  “Myself, I need more space,” Calum said. “Phoebe doesn’t seem to mind the woods.”

  “As long as Susannah’s happy, I don’t care where we live, as long as it’s warm and there’s a bed,” Jesse said.

  “From the state of your wife’s dress and hair when you come back from ‘hunting’, I’d say you two feel right at home in the outdoors.” Lyle shook his head.

  Jesse grinned, and Calum clapped him on the back.

  A shot rang out in the barn.

  “What—” Johnathan started, but the rest of the men were already sprinting towards the barn, Jesse leading the way.

  They burst into the space, taking in the group of unwashed, burly men, and the faces of the women ranging from frightened to defiant, and in Susannah’s case, completely blank and cold. The little blonde stood with a smoking gun, staring coldly down at the dirty bearded man on the ground, screaming.

  “She shot me! She shot me in the leg! I’ll kill you, you stupid b—”

  Whipping out his own pistol, Jesse stepped forward and struck the man hard enough to drive his head to the floor. Jubal sprawled, unconscious.

  Lyle, Miles and Calum made short work of the rest of the men; drawing weapons and shouting for them to get on the ground with hands up, if they knew what was good for them.

  “What happened?” Johnathan moved to his wife.

  “They said they’ve come for Phoebe,” Esther said quickly. “They threatened us. Susannah drew her gun and warned them not to come any closer.”

  “Is that true?” Jesse turned amazed eyes to his wife. Susannah just looked at him with a blank expression, and he approached her, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” He took her gun and examined it before holstering it in her belt. His hands settled onto her shoulders as he bent to look in her eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She gulped. “It’s true. He came at me and I—” Her voice stalled. Jesse cupped either side of her face. “It’s over now, you did good.”

  Her face crumpled for a moment and she clutched her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “You’re all right, sweetheart.” Jesse pulled her away towards one of the private rooms.

  The other men stood over the intruders, guns trained on them.

  “It’s not fair,” Willie whined. “That’s our cousin, she belongs to us. Tell ‘em Abel.”

  “She’s mine, suppose to marry her,” muttered Jeb.

  Fury on his face, Calum stepped forward and made short work of the two youngest, simply knocking their heads together and letting their bodies hit the floor.

  “Be silent, if you know what’s good for you,” Johnathan snapped. He crouched at the elder’s side. “This man needs medical attention.”

  “I’ll help.” Esther came forward with a grim look on her face. “But he’s not getting any laudanum.”

  The men tied up the cousins in the stables and carried the uncle to a private room, where they also tied him down. Jubal was just beginning to rouse.

  Lyle and Miles took turns hugging their wives, leaving to stand guard over the intruders only when they were certain Rose and Carrie were all right. The young mother and mother-to-be regained their color, Rose even professing that she wasn’t carrying her own weapon, otherwise she would’ve fired a shot to warn the men.

  “I’m sure Susannah thought of doing that.” The redhead was pale as she rubbed her belly. “But it all happened so fast.”

  “We’ll get you a holster,” Lyle assured her. “Not that I intend for this ever to happen again.”

  Miles muttered his agreement as he hugged his wife to his broad chest.

  Finally, Miles and Lyle took guard duty, and Calum came to Phoebe’s side. “Come here, lass,” he said in a gruff voice, and pulled her into a bear hug. “You all right?” he whispered into her hair.

  “I was scared but now I’m fine.” Looking into his grey eyes, Phoebe knew she was telling the truth. Her worst fear had come true, and she survived, safe and sound. “I was right; they did come for me.”

  “They’re not going to take you. No one will ever force you to do anything against your will again, Phoebe, I swear it.” He sounded so fierce, she could do nothing but nod dumbly.

  Jubal came awake and started shouting.

  “Excuse me a moment, sweetheart.” Calum stalked into the room where Johnathan and Esther were trying to tell the patient they meant him no harm; they were just trying to remove the bullet. Phoebe winced at the foul language pouring out of her uncle’s mouth, and winced again when Calum punched the man so hard Jubal rocked backward in his bonds. The man had a hard head, though, so he moaned, still conscious. Grabbing Jubal’s lolling head, Calum stuffed a handkerchief in his maw.

  Johnathan sighed. “Well, I suppose that makes things easier. Hold him down.” After cutting away Jubal’s dirty pant leg, Johnathan lifted an evil looking tool and fished out the bullet. Calum didn’t like how fast the doctor worked and told him so.

  “He deserves to suffer,” Calum said.

  Wiping his hands, Johnathan pursed his lips and said nothing.

  “Excuse me,” Esther trilled, and given access to the patient, dumped a load of carbonic acid on the open wound.

  Jubal came awake immediately, screaming through the gag.

  “Stings doesn’t it?” the blonde snipped.

  “Esther! We took an oath to do no harm.”

  “I think a little punishment will do him good, dearest.” Esther flounced away, winking at the Scot.

  Satisfied, Calum returned to Phoebe’s side.

  “How are our prisoners?” he asked Miles, while pulling Phoebe close.

  “The sooner they’re back the way they came the bet
ter.” The look on Miles Donovan’s face was scary. His gaze swept the room and softened a little when it fell on his wife and daughter. “Where’s the heroine of the hour?”

  “Jesse took her into another room, to, uh, examine her,” Calum said.

  “Yes, he’ll make sure she’s not hurt. Good thing the walls and doors here are pretty thick,” Esther said slyly.

  “Is she in trouble?” Phoebe whispered to her husband and he squeezed her.

  “No, lass. Her husband’s just rewarding her for taking so well to his shooting lessons.” Calum winked at her. Esther giggled.

  Johnathan came out of the surgery, drying his hands. “What now?”

  “We post a guard,” Miles said. “Lyle’s taking first shift. As soon as your patient is able to travel, we send them back to where they came from, with an escort to make sure they go past Florence.”

  “You going to allow that?” Johnathan asked Calum.

  “You mean am I going to send them off without teaching them a lesson?” Calum sighed. “If they promise to leave and never come back. But if they put up any fuss I can’t be held responsible for giving them a wallop.”

  “I know what I’d do if they threatened my wife. Tie them up and give them a good thrashing.”

  Esther sniffed. “From what I know about them, a horse whip’s too good for them.”

  Johnathan put his arm around his wife. “All right, my blood thirsty bride. Let’s get this patient bundled up and stable, and put them on the next wagon out of here.”

  “Yes, husband.” Esther gave Phoebe a rueful smile. “I’m sorry this all happened on your birthday celebration.”

  “It’s all right,” Phoebe said earnestly. “It was a nice party. I had a good time.”

  The men put Jubal and the rest of Phoebe’s cousins in the back of a wagon and hired a man to drive them to the border. Calum and Jesse went with them as far as Florence and came back reporting that they were as good as gone.

  Phoebe was excited to have her husband back, but a few days after his return, she noticed he was very quiet. Other than Wolfie’s begging and her chatter, dinnertime passed in silence.

  She asked about it, and he shrugged. “The effect of being around vile men. The thought of you living around them…”

  She squeezed his hand. “There’s no danger of that now. You saved me.”

  He offered her a sad smile.

  And his silences grew longer. He also seemed to spend more time walking in the woods, coming home later and later.

  One night she waited up a few hours past dark and then went to bed alone. She waited and waited until finally he came in, but he didn’t come to bed. And she didn’t sleep.

  And then she had a horrible thought. He’d taken her in and cared for her, he loved to see to her needs. Now that her family was fended off, she didn’t need him as much, and he wouldn’t want her anymore.

  She had her earnings. She didn’t want him to be shackled to a poor, crippled girl for the rest of his life. She loved him too much for that. But he was too kind to tell the truth.

  So she had to leave.

  That night he sat in his chair, staring at the fire. Wolfie whined to go outside and she let the dog out, then came to stand by her husband.

  “Do you need anything? I was going to make tea.”

  He shook his head without looking at her.

  She bustled about the room, settling in and sewing a little. He still wasn’t moving. It had been like this for a few nights, as darkness fell sooner and sooner. She hadn’t noticed because she’d been so intent on finishing the last of Mrs. Martin’s orders before the winter snow.

  Finally, she got up and stroked back her husband’s hair. “Are you feeling well?”

  “I’m all right.”

  She leaned over him, putting her hand on his shoulder. He shifted, almost avoiding her touch.

  “Bedtime?”

  “In a little while.”

  Heart clenched, she withdrew, wondering how she could rouse him. He looked up when she laid the pillow at his feet and knelt in front of him, reaching up to undo his placket.

  “Not, now, Phoebe,” he said. There was a sorrow in his grey eyes.

  “Are you sure? I can make you feel better.” She smiled slyly and kept unbuttoning him.

  She was forced to sit back when he stood.

  “I’m going out for a while. Don’t wait up for me.”

  And he left.

  So this was it. Phoebe blinked back tears. He wanted to care for her, but now that she didn’t need him anymore, he had no interest in her. Ironic that she’d been so worried about leaning too hard on his help, but now she was safe and healthy, he wanted nothing to do with her. One thing was clear: she couldn’t stay there a moment longer.

  She packed a few things, wondering if she dared show up on Mrs. Martin or Esther’s doorstep. With a little sob, she decided she’d be better off leaving Royal all together. After filling her sack, she went into the second bedroom and took out a thick blanket. He wouldn’t begrudge her one item from the mysterious room he never entered. As she pulled out the woolen quilt, a small wooden item fell out and rolled on the floor, but she ignored it. Sack over her shoulder and blanket in hand, she set out into the darkness. She’d hike through the woods and find the hot springs cave. She could hide there and then decide where to go. Calum was probably walking his paths through the deep forest. Maybe she could be over the mountain before he returned to the lodge and discovered her gone.

  It was cold. She wasn’t looking forward to sleeping outside, but at least her foot was strong enough to carry her up the mountain trail. She’d rest when she reached the hot springs—or so she thought, until she hiked for hours and never found the entrance to the cave filled with pools. Exhausted, her breathing ragged, she stopped trying to make her way under the moonlight. She lay on the cold ground, too tired to even light a fire.

  Part of her wanted to die. What use was her life? A family, a husband who didn’t want her? She’d tried so hard, but she’d never be good enough. Phoebe could fade away from the world, and it wouldn’t matter. Tears half froze on her face, as she tossed and turned in the blanket.

  A low growl woke her. In the predawn light, Phoebe raised her head and met the eyes of a mountain lion, stalking her from across the clearing.

  Scrambling backward, Phoebe’s teeth chattered with both cold and fear. Even with her foot healed, she couldn’t outrun the great cat. Calum told her they liked to play with their food; Phoebe wondered how long it would take her to die.

  “Go away,” she whispered. “Please.” Scavenging, she picked up a fallen branch with half frozen hands and waved it high, trying to make herself look larger.

  The cat moved into a crouch, muscles poised to pounce.

  “Leave me alone,” Phoebe screamed suddenly. Noise, that’s what Calum had told her. Make lots of noise. Shaking the branch, she stomped her feet and shouted, even kicking some rocks towards it. “You don’t scare me,” she told the predator at the top of her lungs.

  The cat lunged forward and she stumbled backward, half falling over a log and landing on her back. Grabbing at stones and clods of dirt, she threw what she could at the beast, even as it prepared to leap at her.

  “Calum!” Phoebe cried.

  A shotgun blast fired and the mountain lion twisted in midair.

  “Phoebe.” Calum bellowed her name over and over again, crashing through the brush towards her. The mountain lion turned and fled as the wild man and Wolfie bounded onto the scene. The dog took off after the cat while the big Scot knelt at Phoebe’s side. In buckskin and hair wild, he looked every inch a mountain man.

  “How did you find me?” she asked through chattering teeth.

  “You left a trail.” He already had his jacket off and was wrapping her in it.

  Of course, he was a hunter. He could track anything.

  “Come on.” He scooped her up. “Close to me now. Get you warm, there’s a good girl.” His voice wrapped around her
like a blanket.

  “I’m all right,” she said. “I feel fine.” His warmth seeped into her and she felt almost woozy. Calum cursed, then cursed again. Then apologized.

  “You’re going to be all right, Phoebe, I swear.” He moved through the brush, sprinting back the way he came as if she weighed nothing.

  Phoebe let her head rest against his chest, snuggling close to his perfect, wild scent, and hearing his heartbeat under her ear.

  “You have to let me leave you,” she murmured. “You did what you had to do and protected me from my family. Now that they’re gone, I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again.”

  “Shhh, that’s enough, lass.” His hand tucked her head into his neck, and she pressed her freezing skin against him, soaking in his warmth. The forest flew by.

  She must have dozed off because she woke before the fire, wrapped in several furs. Calum had pulled the chair as close to the blaze as he could. He put water on to boil and then knelt in front of her, pulling off her thick socks and checking her foot and legs before starting to rub them.

  “Can you feel your feet?”

  They were numb, but she could feel a faint tingle, and told him so.

  “Thank the Laird.” His hands kept chafing her skin.

  “I’m all right,” she said, confused by the worry in his face.

  His grey eyes met hers and she fell silent at the fierce anger there. “Not another word. You could’ve been killed. Cold like this steals into your bones before you even know it. Dammit, Phoebe, men have died going out in nights like that. What were you thinking?” Finished with her massage, he pulled on a pair of his thick socks and placed a hot brick under her feet.

  “You don’t want me anymore, I had to leave.”

  He looked even more worried. “You said that before, I thought you were delirious.” Dipping out a cup of hot water, he wrapped her hands around the tin and cupped them in his. “I care for you. I married you. What possessed you to leave?”

  “I thought you were done with me,” she whispered.

  “Are ye daft? If I’d meant to get rid of ye, why would I make ye my wife?” His burr came out stronger with his fierce words.

  “I’m sorry. I thought—”

 

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