Brides Along the Chisholm Trail Boxset

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Brides Along the Chisholm Trail Boxset Page 26

by Maxine Douglas


  Damn, I’m going to be in a world of hurt if I don’t stay as far from her as possible. Maybe I should ride out with Beau instead of escorting her back to Texas on the train. Hell, maybe I should hire the first elderly widow I meet and take back to Texas a woman who wouldn’t be a distraction. But a man’s only as good as his word, and I did give my word to take her on.

  “Miss Butler.” Cyrus tipped his head to the lady in question, offering her the chair next to him.

  “Cyrus.” Suzanne’s smile lit up her eyes like a ray of sunshine after a thunderstorm as she sat with ease. “Would it be improper of me to ask that you call me Suzanne? Miss Butler sounds like an old maid to me. I hope you don’t find my request to familiar.”

  “Beautiful morning,” Beau chimed in, taking a swig from his cup and eying Cyrus with an I know what you’re thinking look.

  “Yes, it is, Mr. Kennedy.” Suzanne nodded, helping herself to the coffee. “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered breakfast. The clerk told me neither of you had eaten yet this morning.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll pass. I have things to do. Want to hit the trail as soon as the boys are ready.” Beau took up his hat, a smirk on his face. “Miss Butler, I’m looking forward to seeing you again after you’ve settled into the homestead. Hopefully, you won’t change your mind by then and hightail it back to Dodge.”

  “Mr. Kennedy, I’ve never been one to run from a challenge. I’m sure everything will be as it was when you left,” Suzanne assured, her gaze challenging Cyrus to say otherwise.

  So that’s how it’s going to be. Challenging me at every turn. I did want someone who would be able to handle the influx of ranch hands coming into the house, and it looks like I may have found it in Suzanne Butler.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” Beau laughed, clamping Cyrus on the shoulder. “Cyrus, I’ll see you back at the ranch in a few weeks. Miss Butler, have a safe journey.”

  “Same to you, Beau.” Cyrus nodded. He could have sworn there was a glimmer of a genuine smile on his big brother’s face.

  “I do hope I didn’t interrupt any important ranch business, Cyrus.” Suzanne clamped her knees together in an attempt to keep her nerves in check. She needed to be on that train with Cyrus, going in the opposite direction her father was heading. The last thing she wanted was to offend Cyrus Kennedy or his brother for that matter. Suzanne got the impression that although Cyrus ran the ranch, he valued his older brother’s opinion.

  Sorting through a trunk after she’d taken a sponge bath last night, Suzanne had gone out a limb, choosing the riding skirt and scoop-collared blouse to wear this morning. If she was to live on the Double K with Cyrus and his family, then he needed to see how she intended to dress from now on. She never was the high buttoned-collar type of girl she’d presented herself as at dinner last night. For that matter, she never was the saloon girl-type either, but she’d had no choice then—now she did. With Father on the way, she’d been forced to make a different choice—a respectable one.

  “Of course not. We were discussing returning to the Double K.” Cyrus gulped down the rest of his coffee, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down. Folding his hands on the table, he leaned toward Suzanne, and a flash of heat scorched through the air. “We’re both anxious to get back to the wide-open spaces. If I’d known you were going to join us for breakfast, I would have dressed appropriately. I wasn’t expecting anyone but Beau.”

  “Do you usually dress so informally, Cyrus?” Suzanne smiled, buttering a biscuit that appeared on the table when she hadn’t been looking. She’d, in fact, been distracted by the man sitting next to her. Suzanne liked a man who appeared comfortable in his own skin. The Cyrus Kennedy before her, smelling like worn leather and hay, clad in jeans, open collar shirt, and dark vest fit that bill. Not the severe-looking man from dinner where tension oozed out of him like a festering wound.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” Cyrus smiled, sending shivers of heat through her. “Do you normally dress like a high-born city girl? Or are you more of a britches-wearing kind of woman?”

  Relief seeped through Suzanne, taking note of the way he emphasized girl and woman. Apparently, he’d thought all females living in the city were girls. And he might well be right if he were referring to one from the East. The “girls” in Dodge were tough as nails, or they’d never last more than a month. Many a wife left her husband behind and returned to the creature comforts of paved streets and parties and sanitation offered in the East Coast cities.

  “That depends on the situation. Growing up, I’d be in a pair of britches Mother made me for riding. She said there was no need ruining a perfectly good skirt doing man’s work. Mother was one of those high-born city girls who took to life in the Montana wilderness with ease as if she’d been born to it. I guess she passed that quality onto me.” Suzanne chuckled before a pang of guilt stabbed her heart. “Father, on the other hand, wanted his only child to be able to rope and ride like the ranch hands. Since I was a girl, well, it was a bit of a disappointment to him, so he treated me like a boy until it became obvious I wasn’t one.”

  “And do you rope and ride?” Cyrus forked a last piece of ham into his mouth, his eyes filled with doubt.

  “It has been a few years, but I’m sure it will come back to me.” Suzanne smiled, sliding a bit of egg onto her fork. “When do we head to the Double K? I’m anxious to get started with your son’s lessons.”

  Cyrus sat back in his chair, a question in his eyes as he looked at her. “You did say last night you were set to go, and I didn’t see any reason to delay. We are on the next train out of Dodge.”

  “I am, indeed. And when might that be?”

  “In the morning, I took the liberty of getting the tickets this morning.” Cyrus tapped his fingers on the table like a little boy waiting to get out of church. He was in a hurry, and she was delaying him.

  “I’ll meet you at the depot then.” Suzanne quaked with anticipation. If she continued to play her hand right, she’d be well on her way before Father arrived. As long as the deal was in her favor, and no one had a card up their sleeves. Gossip had a way of running around the streets of Dodge City.

  “Good. I’ll have the boys move your trunks over to the station before they head out.” Cyrus placed his fork and knife across his plate then stood to take his leave. “Thank you for breakfast. Now, please excuse my manners, but I have some ranch business to attend to.”

  “No, no, please go ahead.” Suzanne smiled, dabbing the napkin in the corner of her mouth. “Don’t let me delay you any further. Since you still have business to attend to, I have some last-minute things as well in preparing for the trip.”

  “Then I’ll see you in the morning.” Cyrus tipped his head then walked out of the dining room.

  Suzanne peered out a nearby window as Cyrus made his way to the livery. Each step was with a purpose. He kept his head up, but she had a feeling he knew everything that was going on around him, from the supply wagon coming into town to the children running through the streets. Nothing was going to get by this man unless he chose to ignore it.

  Now, there goes a man who knows what he wants and how to get it. Wonder why he’s so jagged around the edges when he seems to have everything.

  Or does he?

  “Damnable woman!” Cyrus muttered under his breath, walking into the livery. “She’ll be a thorn in my side, there’s no doubt about it.”

  A chuckle rose up from the shadows. Cyrus halted and reached for the guns he’d left in the hotel safe.

  “Who’s there?” he demanded, peering around the wagons and hay.

  Beau stood up from behind a stall wall, pulling hay from his hair.

  “Beau, what the hell are you doing down there? If I’d been wearing my guns—” Cyrus forgot his words when a dark-haired woman with bright blue eyes rose just behind Beau, her cheeks flushed the color of pink petals.

  “Ah, Cyrus, this here is Jessica Sanders,” Beau stammered, obviously taken by surprise that Cyrus had
caught him in the midst of some hanky-panky. “Jessica, this is my brother, Cyrus Kennedy. And before you ask, we weren’t doin’ nothin’ but talkin’, Cyrus. Jessica’s father moved their family here from Boston a month ago.”

  Beau began looking a bit antsy. Judging from the look on his face, Cyrus thought better than to continue with an interrogation in front of the lady.

  For the first time Cyrus could recall, his hardened older brother seemed a bit embarrassed. “Miss Sanders, nice to meet you.” Cyrus nodded, holding back the laughter threatening to burst from his gut. “Boston is a long way from Dodge City, Miss Sanders.”

  “Yes, sir, it is.” Jessica came out from behind Beau’s shoulder, her eyes twinkling like stars. “We came for a good reason. Once Papa realized there wasn’t—”

  “Jessica, Cyrus and I have a few things to talk over,” Beau interrupted, shuffling his feet, looking at the young lady with puppy dog eyes.

  Well, I’ll be damned! A city girl has stolen his heart.

  “Yes, Beau, darling.” Jessica smiled then strolled past Cyrus, brushing the hay from her dress. “Mr. Kennedy, nice to meet you. I hope we meet again real soon,” she said, planting a kiss on Beau’s cheek then nearly skipping out of the barn.

  “Now, Cyrus, before you go thinking—”

  “Beau, whatever it is I’m thinking, you’ll figure out for yourself.” Cyrus smiled, wondering just how a nice girl like Jessica Sanders of Boston had found a saddle tramp from Texas like Beauregard Kennedy. “She seems like a nice girl.”

  Beau nodded, a smile beaming across his face before his eyes turned dark with worry. “I thought you were having breakfast with Miss Butler.”

  “Suzanne had a few last-minute things to tend to,” Cyrus offered, turning his thoughts to the seductive and alluring Miss Suzanne Butler. In two days’ time, that woman had managed to have him thinking of more than cattle.

  “I can imagine she does at that,” Beau sneered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cyrus asked, taking a step forward, his brow furrowed.

  “Nothing you want to hear about,” Beau warned. “You ain’t gonna like most of it.”

  “Oh, really? Supposin’ you tell me and let me be the judge of that!” Cyrus figured Beau had been nosing around town about Suzanne from the moment they’d arrived. When it came to his only nephew, Beau was as protective as Cyrus was—if not more.

  “First off, Suzanne Butler ain’t fully telling you the truth. She’s the Montana Sue everyone’s been referring to since we arrived. She’s on the run from an overbearing father and an arranged marriage. She came here to Dodge City a year ago and started working at the Lady Gay as—”

  “She’s a saloon girl! The woman I’ve hired to teach Johnny is no more than a—” Cyrus swore, his temper rising to a new level. He’d been sucker punched by a woman; how the hell had that happened?

  “Well, not exactly. It’s true Suzanne’s gone by the name of Montana Sue, and she was employed by the Mastersons at the Lady Gay. The hitch here is that mostly she looked after the children, particularly Logan Granger’s daughter. She’d become smitten with Granger and didn’t take it real well when he’d sent for a bride,” Beau said, keeping his distance.

  “Go on,” Cyrus encouraged, hoping there was some good news somewhere in Beau’s findings.

  “Long story short, that father of hers is on his way here to gather up his daughter and take her back to Montana. Word has it there’s a Murray riding with him.” Beau’s words were low and remorseful.

  “Not Regan Murray?” Cyrus asked, knowing what the man was like. Regan Murray was a sorry piece of human flesh and didn’t deserve to live, let alone take a young woman as his bride.

  Beau nodded his head, “One in the same, I’m afraid.”

  Cyrus sat down on the nearest hay bale. “So that’s why she put the ad in the paper.”

  “So it seems.” Beau leaned against the stall, arms crossed. “Can you blame her? You know what he’ll do to her, breed her like a piece of livestock until she’s all used up. And if her father is going along with it, then he’s no better.”

  “How did you come by this information?” Cyrus shook away the memory of finding one of Murray’s victims during the war.

  “A little sweet talkin’ with a few girls a bit green with envy.” Beau grinned.

  “All right, at least I know what I’m up against. What about her growin’ up on a ranch?” Cyrus asked.

  “I’ll leave that bit of detective work up to you. Or you could ask the Pinkerton to find out,” Beau suggested, throwing his saddlebags up onto the back of his horse.

  “No time for that; we leave in the morning. I’ve already arranged to have Miss Butler’s trunks taken over to the depot.” Cyrus paced like a wild animal on the hunt. Damn if it wasn’t his duty to protect Miss Butler, now that she was in his employ.

  “Then I’ll see you back at the ranch.” Beau walked out of the livery, his gait slow and easy.

  Cyrus swore under his breath. “Of all the damn luck! Regan Murray! I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

  4

  Panic slammed Suzanne as she looked around the depot. Her trunks were here, but where was Cyrus? He had said to meet him here first thing in the morning, hadn’t he?

  Yes, yes, he did. I remember him saying he’d see me in the morning after we’d had breakfast. But where is he? Does he mean to leave me standing here with nowhere to go? How could he do such a thing?

  Suzanne paced back and forth, her gut and heart twisting into a knot. The train would be arriving soon, and the possibility of her left standing on the platform looking like a silly fool didn’t sit well. With Father possibly only weeks away, she needed to be as far from Dodge City as possible. Even though she was a woman now and not a naive girl, she was positive Father would try to drag her back to Montana, by her hair if necessary.

  She went over the past few days in her mind. Nothing she’d said or done could have made Cyrus change his mind, she was sure of it. Was he offended by the way she’d dressed yesterday morning for breakfast? Well, if he’d wanted a stuffy old widow as a tutor and housekeeper, he should have indicated so in his response to her advertisement.

  Suzanne shook her head. No, she was sure he didn’t mind her less than formal attire. He’d looked at her totally different than at dinner when he’d seemed all business and no pleasure. Other than if the way he’d held her in his arms after she’d tripped on her skirt counted for anything, which it didn’t of course. Still, she thought there was a momentary spark that had surfaced. Or was it wishful thinking on her part? After all, Cyrus Kennedy was a handsome man.

  Unless someone at the Lady Gay had said something. But who? As far she knew, she didn’t have any enemies among the girls. Even after the incident with Logan and Rose, the girls hadn’t shied away from her. And as for any of the saddle tramps who came into town, she’d kept her distance as much as possible. She’d only filled in at the tables if one of the other girls got ill. Suzanne had made sure that was the agreement with Mr. Masterson when she had taken the position at the Lady Gay.

  Suzanne chewed on her bottom lip, searching her thoughts for any clues. Conversations with the girls flitted through her mind and came up blank. Nothing, absolutely nothing—

  “Molly!” Suzanne whispered, plopping down on a bench. Molly had been her confidant and long-time friend at the saloon. Suzanne had told Molly about the message from Mother, and about Father and Mr. Murray. They’d sat up many nights, sharing their wishes and dreams with each other. Telling each other about where they came from and their families. She trusted Molly.

  “No, she wouldn’t do that to me. Molly would never do that.”

  Suzanne sat back, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. If Molly had betrayed her, Suzanne would still have to leave. Her quick calculations in her mind made her feel confident she had enough to get to Kansas City, maybe even a bit further east. With luck, she’d have enough left to stay ahead of her father.
Maybe enough to take her all the way to the East Coast where she could get lost in the crowded streets.

  “Lord, what am I to do?” Suzanne asked aloud, folding her hands tightly over the reticle in her lap.

  “About what, Miss Butler?”

  Suzanne’s eyes snapped open, and she stared into the face of Beau Kennedy, sitting astride the biggest bay horse she’d ever seen. Cyrus was a younger version of his older brother and much nicer to look at, as far as Suzanne was concerned. Beau had rough edges that needed smoothing out. Cyrus had sorrow that needed to have some light shed on it.

  “Where is Cyrus this morning? Has he changed his mind about taking the train to the ranch?” Suzanne held her breath, waiting for the answer she was sure to come. He wasn’t coming. He’d changed his mind, not only about taking the train but was also terminating their agreement.

  “Cyrus will be along in a few minutes.” Beau smiled as he pulled his hat low over his brow. “He thought you’d be worried, so he sent me over on my way out. Last minute ranch business over at the telegraph office.”

  “Oh, I see.” Relief overwhelmed Suzanne, and her heart rate returned to a normal beat. Her body began to relax, and the tension slipped away. Thank goodness, he does want me at the ranch! Why would I think otherwise; the man had given his word.

  “Have a safe trip, Miss Butler. Don’t let Cy get the upper hand; he’s forgotten how sensitive a woman can be.” Beau tipped his hat then reined his horse’s head to the south. “The truth is always best in my experience,” he added before clucking his horse into a trot toward the men waiting for him.

  “The truth could also be the end of me,” Suzanne said under her breath. “At least I’m not being left here like a bride at the altar.”

  Then she remembered she’d done the same thing to Mr. Murray. Suzanne had had no desire to be wed to a man old enough to be her father. Nor one who was as mean as a rattlesnake. Cyrus Kennedy was neither of those!

 

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