“I promise to look after them.”
Johnny closed his eyes and Marcus thought he was dead, but life still flickered in the young outlaw.
“Hold my hand, George.”
He moaned slightly. His face by the lamplight appeared white, with not a vestige of warmth left, even his lips were bleached of color. It could not be long now, Marcus knew, as the pool of blood was growing and spreading beneath him.
“Englishman.” Johnny struggled to get up. “I’m her brother.” He twitched then lay still.
George screamed, desperately throwing her body across his. “Johnny! Johnny!”
“Georgina, you can’t help him now, no one on this earth can.”
She started sobbing wildly, so Marcus picked her up in his arms and carried her outside. The sky was now streaked with pink, the dawn of a new day. Night had departed on silent wings bearing the young outlaw with it.
“Stay here, I want to attend to things.”
She did not move from where he had sat her, and never had he seen such raw anguish on any person’s face.
Inside the hut, he folded the outlaw’s arms across his chest and pressed his eyelids shut. There was not even a blanket to cover him. He closed the door and walked over to Georgina who was sobbing piteously.
“I’ll take you to Stanton’s place.”
“No, I want to go home.”
“You can’t stay on your own. If your uncle were here it would be different.”
“Can you see to things, I mean?” She shuddered.
“Yes.”
“I have to go home. Billy will come there when he hears. Johnny said he had a son. Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I don’t know, Georgina, perhaps he felt ashamed. Probably got a girl with child and left her.”
“I bet he told McGuire,” she sobbed. “Nobody tells me anything.”
He took her home, his poor broken-hearted Georgina. It was frightful leaving her alone, yet there was nothing else he could do. He had never been particularly religious but Johnny Valentine would get a decent Christian burial.
* * *
George could never remember how she survived the next two days. They passed in a daze. Marcus organized for Mrs. Gleeson to stay with her. She didn’t leave her room until McGuire arrived home. The only thing keeping her sane was the thought of Johnny’s son. She became obsessed with claiming him.
* * *
Johnny Valentine was laid to rest with only George, McGuire and a small gathering of friends attending the burying. Marcus attended but stood a little distance away from the rest of the mourners. The Parson gave a short, moving service, deploring the loss of such a young life.
After the service, a white-faced George stumbled to where the horses were tethered. She wanted to be alone, and McGuire understood this. Marcus made to follow, but the old man stopped him.
“Leave her be. Come to the cabin this afternoon, she’ll be back by then. She needs to grieve alone.”
Slowly, bent double with pain and anguish, George galloped across the open range then slowly climbed upward into her beloved hills. The air smelt clean and sweet, birds flittered around, a bright splash of color against the somber foliage of the trees.
She tethered her horse then dawdled around for a time, feeling the warmth of the sun on her body, which had been strangely cold since that terrible day. She trudged to the edge of the cliff near Johnny’s lookout and stared down into the valley through tear-drenched eyes.
Tomorrow, she and McGuire would go and find Johnny’s son and bring him home. This thought kept her from going completely loco.
Chapter Twelve
McGuire sat slumped over the kitchen table when Marcus entered the room. The old man’s eyes were red-rimmed, his face more lined than before. Georgina was nowhere to be seen. He was determined to ask for her hand in marriage. He loved her, she would be his wife and to hell with the aristocracy.
“This is probably not the time or the place, McGuire, but I’d like your permission to marry, Georgina. I love her. I’m sure I can make her happy. She wouldn’t agree without your blessing, but I can take her away from all of this.”
“I have no objection if she wants to marry you.”
“Good. Did you know about Johnny’s son?”
“Yes.”
“I want to find the child for her. I’d be prepared to bring him up as my own.”
“I’m pleased you’re prepared to take on the boy as well. I’m an old man; I couldn’t look after him on my own.” McGuire shook his head sadly. “Before you commit yourself to anything, I want to tell you about George’s parents Christina and Jake.”
“You don’t need to.”
“You have a right to know what you’re letting yourself in for before you make your decision. If you find you can’t marry her after what I tell you, her and the boy will be all right with Billy and me. If you marry George, you risk being exiled out here for the rest of your days. Genteel society would never accept you, and George as well as Johnny’s son could be in mortal danger.”
“Danger! What are you talking about?”
“There are people who would be prepared to kill her if they ever found out who her father was, and Johnny’s boy could also be at risk.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Was McGuire mad? Had the happenings of the last few days damaged his brain?
Is it? To gain something he wasn’t entitled to a man set into motion a vendetta, which would lead to Jake and Christina being murdered. Johnny and George would have been killed, too except for a twist of fate.”
Years in the wilderness had obviously affected the old man’s mind. McGuire’s face took on the color of dirty parchment, his eyes burned fiercely. “The story I’m about to tell you began in Texas more than ten years ago.”
The hair suddenly stood up on the back of Marcus’ neck.
Jake was a gunslinger before he met Christina. He could draw faster than any man I ever saw. I was working as a wagon train scout when we first met. Anyway, he won a ranch in a card game at some saloon near the Rio Grande. Can’t remember exactly where. The ranch was in Texas and I went with him. I was sick of fighting Injins and looking after tenderfoots by then.
On the way there, we came across two wagons, one overturned and the other had a broken axle. The wagon train had been running out of food, so they were left behind.”
“That’s shocking.”
“Yeah, well, some wagon train bosses are ruthless sonsofbitches. If they’re late getting the train to where it has to go, they lose money.”
“Go on.” McGuire’s story was rather rambling and it took a while for him to get to the point.
“A tin-horn, Abe Valentine was.…”
“Valentine?”
Yeah, Abe and his wife Ellen. With them were two of the prettiest gals you ever did see, Christina and Molly. They had come from back East as Mail Order Brides. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Jake got hitched to Christina and me to Molly.
“Paradise was….”
Marcus cut him off. “Paradise?”
McGuire gave a grunt of laughter. “That’s what Jake called his ranch. It was a nice little spread with plenty of grass. More importantly it had water, with a creek that never ran dry running through it. He asked me to be his forearm. Best job I ever had.”
McGuire stopped for a moment and took a deep breath as if trying to compose
himself. “Roy Chadwick had a huge spread next door to Jake. He had driven off or killed most of the other small ranchers and was desperate to get his hands on Paradise. Offered to buy it and when Jake refused to sell, threatened to kill him, but Jake still wouldn’t budge. One day the three Chadwick sons rode over and roughed up Christina. Johnny was about five, George still a toddler. When Jake arrived home and found out what happened, he went loco. He set out to get the Chadwick boys, low down skunks they were, too. He tracked them down, killed the two oldest boys and put the youngest one in a wheelchair for life.”
Marcus shook his h
ead as McGuire stood and picked up the coffee pot.
“Roy Chadwick vowed revenge on Jake, anyone of his blood, or anyone who befriended him. He couldn’t get rid of Jake on his own so he hired a couple of low down killers to do his dirty work.
They sneaked over to Paradise and murdered Jake and Christina as they slept. They were strangers and didn’t realise Johnny and George were there as well, otherwise they’d have been killed too.”
Marcus had never heard of anything so cold-blooded. What type of man would commit such a heinous crime?
“Johnny found his parents and rushed over to get us. We realized we were all in danger so we left Paradise. The Valentines took Johnny and we took George and fled for our lives. I came here. This place isn’t much but I was born here. The Valentines settled near Deadwood.”
McGuire took a couple of slurps of coffee before continuing.
“Abe died and Ellen moved further west to be with her brother and his family. She took Johnny with her.”
“Why didn’t he stay with you?”
“We wanted to keep him, but we had George and three boys of our own. This place is poor, the ground hungry and dry, and we were only able to scratch out a living. We couldn’t afford another mouth to feed. Besides, Ellen needed Johnny as she had three young-uns under four to worry about as well.
A couple of years ago, Johnny found us. Young fool had already been in trouble with the law, too much like his father, wild and with a temper to match,”
“What a terrible story.”
“Yeah, well it gets worse. Chadwick claimed Jake shot his boys when they were unarmed. It was a Goddamn lie, but if Jake hadn’t been murdered, he’d have hung. Justice.” McGuire’s mouth twisted. “Only for the rich and powerful.”
“My God, McGuire, what a dreadful story.” Marcus felt physically ill, and his head was pounding. “You’re not even Georgina’s uncle, and she’s been living here without another woman…”
“Tarnation, man, don’t you see, that was one of the reasons I couldn’t tell George who she really was. I always let her think Molly and Christina were sisters. She was only seven when Molly died. What could I do? Dump her in a foundling asylum?
“I suppose you didn’t have much choice.”
Johnny got some girl with child and had to marry her. He was no angel, but didn’t deserve to be persecuted and shot down like a rabid dog.”
“Georgina’s name is Valentine?”
“No, Valentine was the name of the people who took Johnny in. Their real name is Ridout.”
“Ridout?”
“Yeah. George wouldn’t hold you responsible for something beyond your control, just like you shouldn’t blame her.” McGuire sighed heavily. “There’s been too much grief and bitterness caused by one man’s greed and thirst for revenge. If you love George and want to marry her, go to her. If not, like I said before, we’ll take care of Johnny’s boy and her.”
“Thank you, McGuire, I’m in your debt. I’ll go now. If Georgina accepts my proposal, we’ll be back within a short time. We’ll get married straight away so we can go and collect Johnny’s son.”
“Yes, get the boy as soon as you can. If Mrs. Shannon dies, God knows where he’ll end up.”
Marcus mounted his horse and rode away, every inch the aristocratic Englishman. Silently, McGuire uttered a prayer that he had done the right thing. In his heart, he felt sure he had. Marcus seemed a decent man, even if he was a member of the English aristocracy. He obviously loved George and would always look after her. Nothing else mattered anymore.
* * *
Marcus found George sitting on the ground with her back resting against a tall pine tree and staring out into the distance. She did not even hear him ride up so deep was her distress.
“Georgina,” he called her name twice before he got any reaction. Finally, she turned her head, but gave no other sign of having seen his approach.
“McGuire told me where to come. I’ve been worried sick. Why wouldn’t you see me?” He lowered himself down beside her. “I want us to be married. I’ve already spoken with McGuire and he’s given his consent. I love you, Georgina, and I can make you happy. Normally, I’d wait until you feel better about Johnny. I know how much you loved him, but he’s gone, my darling; pining for him won’t bring him back. McGuire agrees with me. We must marry straight away so I can protect both you and Johnny’s son.”
His voice dropped until it became little more than a whisper. “He’s free now, don’t you see? No one can hurt him anymore. They can’t cage him. He was like a bird, a creature of the wild who needed to be free. He would not have survived if they’d locked him away, so he wouldn’t want you to be sad, would want you to remember the happy times. Even at the end he wasn’t unhappy because they didn’t catch him. He remained free.”
A shudder shook her, and he held her close. “Cry, Georgina. Cry for all the Johnnys who want to be free and never can be. Cry because you loved him, then forget all the sadness and only remember the good times.”
Great shuddering sobs racked her body and Marcus held her close, while the gentle breeze, heavy with the perfume of wild flowers, caressed them both. Finally, there were no tears left to shed.
“Will you marry me, Georgina?”
“I can’t marry you. Your father is a Lord. You’re rich and must marry someone of your own standing. Your friends and family could never accept me, no one in England would.”
He swore. “I acted like a swine. Forget those ugly things I said, I was a jealous fool. I’ve loved you from the first time we met in that dingy little inn. I wouldn’t admit it for a time, even to myself. I fought my feelings for you, said all those wretched things. In that prison cell, I took a good look at myself and the way I had lived before coming out here. The picture was ugly.
Deep down I knew I wanted you for my wife, but there was Johnny, always Johnny. I was practically demented with anger and jealousy because you preferred him to me. The thought you were his mistress ate into my soul. It nearly killed me thinking of what you might have shared together, because I wanted you all for myself. I wanted to be the first man to know you, the only man,” he went on passionately. “It was pre-ordained. You were special. I knew it the first time I set eyes on you.”
“Oh, Marcus.” She stroked his cheek. “I wanted to tell you so many times about Johnny, only I promised.”
“Don’t say anything more, Georgina. McGuire told me the whole story about your parents and what happened to them.”
“He’s never told me much.” She felt strangely hurt.
“McGuire’s a good man. He wanted to tell you, but the right time never came up. Marry me, Georgina. I love you and I can make you happy.” His lips moved against her hair. “We’ll go together to claim Johnny’s son.”
Marcus kissed Georgina and she clung to him. He held her tightly as if he never wanted to let her go. After they were married and she was under his protection, he would relay McGuire’s story to her. She had a right to know and he wanted to be the one to tell her. She would be devastated, anyone would be, but he would be there to comfort her, offer support and do anything necessary to ease her pain.
Chapter Thirteen
Marcus and George were married the next day at the house of the local preacher, with his wife and McGuire as witnesses. As Marcus slipped Christina’s wedding ring onto her finger, she had to blink back happy tears.
There was no time for a wedding breakfast or even a celebratory drink; they simply mounted their horses and headed off to find Johnny’s son.
“Not much of a wedding for you,” Marcus remarked after a time. “I always thought when I finally got married there would be lots of pomp and ceremony.”
“I don’t care, I’m just happy to be your wife.” She gave an excited little giggle.
“Tonight, my darling, when we spend our first night together as man and wife, I hope to make it up to you. I’ll take you to paradise, Georgina, I swear it.”
She shifted her horse closer
to his so their legs might touch every now and again. George was wearing her normal trousers and shirt, Marcus similarly attired. They wanted to travel as quickly and inconspicuously as possible to pick up little Danny.
“You don’t think they would have moved or anything?” George asked worriedly. “We might not be able to find him.”
“Don’t worry, my darling, they wouldn’t have heard of Johnny’s death yet. Even if they have moved, we’ll scour the whole Dakota territory until we find him,” Marcus promised.
When they stopped by a creek to rest and water their horses, and eat some jerky, Marcus told George about her parents.
She started crying before he was even halfway through it.
“Don’t weep, my darling.” He held her close, resting his chin on her bright curls. “What happened was a terrible miscarriage of justice.”
“How could men do such evil thing?”
“Power and money becomes an obsession and combined with revenge, it brings out the worst in men.
“I don’t think we should tell Danny about this. Let him think we’re his parents.”
“We’ll have to wait and see what happens. I had a frightful row with my uncle about not marrying Kathryn. My Aunt has always wanted to return to England. They’re in a hurry to go now because there’s a chance for Kathryn to marry a Duke. His wife is dying and he’ll need a suitable wife to replace her. They wouldn’t want to miss out on a chance like that. I’ve offered to buy his place and my uncle accepted. Well, we are doing a swap really. His ranch in exchange for a manor house I recently inherited from my Godmother. It’s quite close to London so it would be perfect for them. I’ve often thought about starting up a stud, breeding horses for the army, but only if you want to.”
“I’d live anywhere with you, Marcus.”
Daringly, she kissed him full on the mouth. When she would have drawn away, he put a hand on either side of her head to keep her close, so he could stake a claim to her lips. She was so soft and lovely, he thought, letting his mouth devour hers, taking all her sweetness and still craving more. Finally, he dragged his lips away.
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