Romancing the Bride

by Melissa Jagears

  So he’d gone back to tracking the rustlers. And last night, he’d stumbled upon some out-of-place tracks, but it had been too late to investigate. Hopefully, today would be the day he’d haul them in.

  If I catch them, the glory will belong to you alone since it’s apparent I can’t bring them in.

  And though Annie’s convinced me you require no more than my best, please allow me to do more than that. Help me bring about justice, along with peace, for both the town and my wife.

  Celia slid off her tired nag between Leah’s house and the tall wooden fence that screened the side yard from the Whitsetts’ neighbors’.

  Her horse sidestepped, and she placed a hand against Leah to keep her from falling to the ground.

  Only a miracle would explain how she’d not been spotted coming through town with a woman slumped over her horse. And of course, it was certainly a miracle that Leah hadn’t been trampled flat.

  Then again, since the doctor hadn’t answered her knock, what good were miracles if Leah died anyway?

  She slid the woman down from the saddle and pressed a hand against her chest. The weak beat and expansion of her chest persisted.

  Swallowing hard, Celia vehemently swiped the tears sliding down her cheeks. She hadn’t time to sit here and cry.

  She got up and took one step toward the back door before freezing, her body shaking with the urge to run. Would to God she could just leave Leah here, let Bryant discover her on his own, and escape the consequences.

  If only she hadn’t fought Guy, none of this would have happened.

  Looking back at Leah, she tried to absorb the courage the older woman had shown earlier while at the mercy of pitiless men.

  She hadn’t panicked, hadn’t cried, hadn’t groveled. Only worried about her friend’s daughter and Bryant.

  Anxious about everyone but herself.

  Celia pushed off the ground and hugged herself tight. When was the last time she’d been concerned about anyone other than herself?

  She could start by getting Leah’s husband out here. He might know who she could fetch for help since the doctor wasn’t around—that was, if Bryant didn’t kill her before she could fetch anyone. For after seeing what she’d done to his poor wife, how could he not want to strangle her?

  Though the distance to the Whitsetts’ front door was short, every step took an eternity—and yet, she faced the brass knocker all too soon.

  She picked up the heavy metal and let it drop.

  With the first knock out of the way, she grabbed the knocker again and rapped it several times, much harder. The thumping echoed throughout the quiet neighborhood and a dog barked somewhere down the street.

  She looked over her shoulder. People would soon be bustling about, and her feet begged to turn tail and run. She grabbed the railing to anchor herself.

  The filmy curtain covering the window beside the door fluttered, and Bryant’s sleep deprived eyes appeared behind the glass.

  Celia steeled herself.

  The door opened, and Bryant leaned heavily against the jamb, as if he too hadn’t slept. “What can I do for you, lad? It’s quite early.”

  “I’m Celia.” She tugged on a piece of short-cropped hair, ashamed at the game of dress up she’d played.

  He threw open the door and grabbed both of her shoulders. “Do your parents know where you are?”

  “No, I—”

  He spun her around toward the street. “Why’d you come here then? Your mother’s worried sick.”

  He all but pushed her down the porch stairs.

  “Wait.” Celia dug in her heels. How easy it would be to go home and let him find Leah on his own. But the truth wouldn’t take long to figure out even if she did. “Your wife—” Dizziness overcame her, and she plopped down on the bottom stair, hitting the edge and slipping onto the sidewalk.

  The pain in her backside barely registered over the cramping in her chest.

  He kneeled in front of her. “You know something about Leah?” His strangled whisper held too much hope. She might be alive, but with her injuries...

  The lump in her throat was too thick for words to break through. She coughed and choked against it, trying to pull air into her lungs, but at least managed a nod.

  “Where is she?” The panic behind his words turned his question into a yelp.

  “She’s—” She swallowed against the bile creeping up her throat.

  His fingernails crimped painfully deep into her upper arm as he pulled her to stand.

  She couldn’t force her gaze up to meet his. “I was trying to save her, truly I was. It’s my fault she’s...” Her breaths came out in pants. “She’s...” She ground her teeth together and glanced at him.

  He took a step closer, his bloodshot eyes wide, his pupils twitching. “She’s what?”

  His shout made her throbbing head pang.

  “She’d hurt real bad,” she whispered. “I don’t know how much time she has left.”

  “W—what?” His face blanked, and his skin lost its color. He breathed unsteadily and shook his head like a madman. “Take me to her.”

  The anger and disbelief contorting his face right now would not match the fury he’d feel at the first glimpse of his wife’s battered body.

  If his rage got the best of him, he’d probably break her neck.

  She forced her feet forward, bracing for the moment he learned what she’d done.

  I hope he kills me quick, though it’s less than I deserve.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  In the rocking chair beside Annie, Jacob hadn’t done much but watch the sun slowly rise above the horizon outside the window while holding her hand. He needed to get to work, but hadn’t been able to leave her praying alone.

  Please God, please bring Celia home today.

  If God didn’t, what else could he do? He’d already arranged to have Nolan and a few other men help him search over the weekend, but if they turned up nothing...

  A rap at the back door startled him, and he pushed himself from his chair. Hopefully whoever knocked hadn’t come to visit.

  When Jacob opened the door, Bryant stood upon the porch with his hat in his hands and a young man behind him. Both looked as grim as his wife, despite the soft morning light illuminating their faces.

  The lad lifted his heavily-lashed eyelids, meeting Jacob’s gaze.

  Not a boy!

  “Celia!” He pushed Bryant aside and smashed her shorn head up against his chest.

  Never had God answered his prayer so quickly! God’s presence overwhelmed him with dizziness. Or maybe he was just lightheaded with the shock of her return.

  She stepped back, her fists gripping the front of her overlarge shirt, her head bent like a beaten dog.

  So she expected a reprimand? She’d certainly have one, but not now. He cupped her cheeks with his hands. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

  Annie.

  He staggered back into the kitchen, pulling Celia with him. “Anne!”

  His wisp of a wife walked around the corner, brow quizzical, and then her face lit. Her arms flung open, and she rushed to her daughter. “Darling, where have you been? I’ve missed you so!”

  Celia’s arms hung limp at her sides as her mother crushed her into an embrace. Both had tears trailing down their faces, but their expressions were completely different.

  Was the girl that unhappy to be home?

  “How could you have done this to me?” Annie pushed Celia away from her, but kept a hold of the girl’s shoulders. “You are not allowed to leave this house ever again.”

  She pulled Celia back into her arms. “I’m so happy you’re back.”

  Remembering his manners, Jacob turned to Bryant who was sitting in a chair near the door, his hat between his knees, tears traveling down his cheeks.

  Jacob frowned at his crying friend. He’d never once seen Bryant cry tears of joy. Not at his oldest daughter’s wedding or when she’d announced his first grandchild was on its way.

&n
bsp; He’d certainly not do so bringing Celia home.

  “What are you wearing?” Annie’s happy scolding continued unabated. “And what did you do to your hair?”

  Jacob dragged a chair next to his somber best friend and waited, for something told him these two were about to steal away Annie’s joy.

  “Celia!” Spencer’s footsteps pounded as he ran down the stairs, his bubbly voice interrupting his mother’s chiding, “Why are you dressed like a boy?”

  “We’re going upstairs to fix that right now.” Annie placed her hand on Celia’s back, and the threesome tromped upstairs.

  Spencer’s babble mixed in with Annie’s one-sided conversation. “If your grandmother could see you, she’d fall over in shock. Why she’d...”

  Bryant wiped at his cheeks, then crushed and re-crushed his hat. He rubbed his eyelids several times before he looked up, his face wan, eyes fatigued.

  Jacob braced himself.

  “Leah’s home.”

  That sentence should’ve brought a wellspring of elation, but the crack in Bryant’s voice dampened all positive emotion.

  Had Leah come home only to tell him she was leaving him for good? Surely Leah would give Bryant a chance. She was the most patient person he’d ever known.

  “Celia brought her back.” Bryant’s words were all but a whisper. “But she might not live past this evening.”

  Jacob gripped the arms of his chair. “What?”

  His friend shook his head and swallowed several times. “The doc sent me away, while he’s ... while he’s...” Bryant looked positively green. “Don’t let Celia blame herself; the real culprit is McGill.” He choked on his breath, as if his lungs were seizing. “And me.”

  His hat fell to the floor and he dug his hands into his hair. “It’s my fault. All my fault.”

  Jacob sat uncomfortably as the man sobbed like a child.

  How were any of them to blame for anything?

  Bryant pulled in mighty gulps of air, working to suppress his hysterics. Finally, his mouth tightened into a thin line, and he turned his head to stare at the wall. “I did what I did to keep from hurting her.” A twisted smile disfigured his lips as his voice croaked out. “I suppose this is what I get for defying God.”

  “But you said she might not live—which means she could.”

  He looked up with vacant eyes. “I wouldn’t deserve such a miracle.”

  “God doesn’t care if you deserve anything. He loves freely. You just have to ask for it.” When Bryant just stared at him without blinking, Jacob scooted closer. “Just ask for it.”

  Bryant lowered his gaze to the floor and ran a shaking hand through his hair. “But there’d be no reason to if I hadn’t started gambling two years ago. Made good money too.” His sickly smile drooped. “Until, of course, I lost every cent. Including the savings we set aside for Jennie’s tuition. I couldn’t face her or Leah, couldn’t tell them she’d have to stay home for a few years.”

  “Bryant, it doesn’t matter what you’ve done. Leah and Jennie love you. They might be disappointed, but—”

  “You think Jennie will still love me when she finds out that not only am I the reason she can’t go back to school but I’m also why she no longer has a mother?”

  “We’ll pray that doesn’t come to pass, but you’ve yet to tell me what happened.”

  “McGill is what happened.” He huffed a derisive laugh. “I asked him to cover my debts, but his help came with more strings attached than I’d bet on. I should’ve just admitted to Leah what I’d done, but my pride ... Do you know how hard it is for a man to admit to his failures when his wife exclaims his virtues to everyone every chance she gets?”

  Bryant didn’t wait for his answer. “McGill’s a smooth talker. He said we were doing people a favor, making the inevitable pass quicker, saving them from losing what dignity they had left—”

  Bryant stopped dead in his tracks. “He had me doctor the county tax list so we could repossess land.”

  Jacob’s eyes closed. Why had he not pushed his friend harder to confess what was eating at him these past few months? “How does this tie into Celia and Leah’s disappearance?”

  Bryant grimaced. “Though I paid my debt, McGill wanted me to continue covering for him to keep my gambling and involvement a secret. I’ve helped him seize three properties so far.” He folded his arms and looked at the floor. “Including Annie’s.”

  Jacob pressed his lips together to keep from bursting. A part of him wanted to run to Annie and inform her they could get her land back, but the misery on Bryant’s face and the knowledge that Leah’s life hung in the balance kept him rooted to his chair.

  Bryant resumed his pacing. “You didn’t tell me who you were marrying, remember?” He stopped. “But then, that doesn’t matter. I couldn’t stop the repossession unless I confessed.” His deadpan laughter made Jacob cringe. “I always found it odd how my girls, when they were little, told such outrageous lies to cover for something insignificant. How stupid.”

  A light tread behind them interrupted Bryant’s confession.

  Celia, now dressed in a yellow shirtwaist and navy skirt, hesitantly stepped into the room.

  Annie followed, her face blank. “Are you saying my Gregory had no gambling debts?”

  “Correct.” Bryant croaked. “And ... and you need to look into his death. Though I’ve no proof, I know of several properties McGill had an interest in where the owners died, unexpectedly.”

  Annie slowly lowered herself into a chair.

  Jacob gestured for Spencer, who was standing in the stairwell’s shadows, to head back up. “Why don’t you go play with your soldiers, son?”

  “Yes, Pa.” The boy’s feet moved like molasses, but he did as bidden.

  “I’m very sorry.” Bryant talked with his eyes close. “Though I’m sure my saying so helps not a whit.”

  “How did Leah get involved? What’s wrong with her?”

  Bryant stared blankly at his hands.

  “I can explain.” Celia’s voice came out soft and raspy. “I’ve been running around with Daniel like you told me not to.” She took a seat in the chair next to Jacob, but slid it back a ways as if needing to put space between them. “He told me about some men hiring workers. I was going to be so smart and make my own money, live under my own rules.” She hugged herself. “But I was stupid. Stupid, stupid.”

  “Hush.” Annie wrapped her arm around Celia’s shoulders.

  Surprisingly, the girl didn’t shrug off her mother’s touch. “We were just panning for gold. Nothing criminal. But last night, they decided the timing was good for cattle rustling.”

  Jacob sat up straighter. All the things he hadn’t been able to solve seemed to be coming together.

  “Tom Passey came out with a tied-up woman Rufus and Guy were supposed to rough up,” She glanced at Bryant who only stared at her, “to teach her husband a lesson.”

  “Tom?” Annie’s brow furrowed. “He’s the rustlers’ ring leader?”

  “No, the mayor is.” Celia stared at the table’s top.

  Jacob turned his gaze toward Bryant.

  “I didn’t know that. But a couple days ago, I refused to doctor another tax entry for McGill.” Bryant’s monotone voice filled the room. “I tried to convince him we’d get caught doing this too many times. Told him to find another way to get the land his men said contained gold.”

  Annie’s hand covered her mouth. “Does my land have gold on it?”

  Bryant nodded. “He’s been on the lookout for alluvial deposits.”

  “What happened to Leah?” Jacob clasped Celia’s shoulder.

  “I ... I couldn’t let them hurt her. I’d heard things...” Celia played with a discarded napkin. “Things they did to the women at the brothels.”

  Jacob stopped himself from digging his fingers into Celia’s shoulder. When he got hold of them...

  “I tried to get the men to agree to let me be the one to rough Leah up.” She shot a tortured glance at
Bryant. “But they laughed at me—” Celia’s voice cut off. Her face twitched for a moment, but she continued, “When they carried her away, I fought them.”

  She strangled the small linen square in her hands. “I thought it would be smart to grab Guy’s gun, but somehow I pulled the trigger.”

  Sound emptied from the room like the color that had drained from Celia’s face.

  The tall case clock in the parlor chimed the half hour.

  Celia closed her eyes, and Jacob feared she’d pass out.

  “I started a stampede,” she whispered as she clenched the table’s edge. “Leah was tied up. She couldn’t run.” Her rough-shorn head dropped onto the table and her arms came up to hide herself from view. Gut-wrenching, muffled sobs reverberated against the wood.

  Annie tried shushing her and smoothing down her daughter’s hair, but Celia’s weeping only grew louder.

  Jacob clasped his daughter’s quaking shoulder. “Where did you last see these men?”

  She turned her damp face to the side. “Somewhere northwest of our old property by Sullivan’s Pass. They’re on their way to Helena.”

  If he could gather up some men within the hour, they might be able to catch them. But how could he leave Celia and Bryant at a time like this?

  But if he didn’t, how many might suffer if these men were allowed to escape the law?

  Jacob strode toward the shelf where he emptied his pockets and stored his weapons at night. He looked at Bryant as he strapped on his gun belt. “I’m afraid I have to go if I have any chance of catching them. If you tell me what you know about their whereabouts, McGill, everything—the judge might be lenient.”

  “If Leah dies, I deserve to hang.” Bryant didn’t so much as flinch. “If it weren’t for my girls, I think I’d ask for it.”

  “Stop thinking like that.” He turned to Celia. “Where is she?”

  “We found the doc, but she’s in bad shape. Though he was surprised she escaped with as little damage as she did, he’s still not sure she’ll wake up. Bryant was being...” She glanced across the room at Bryant with a look that was both sorry and fearful.

  “You can’t have a raving lunatic around while you’re performing surgery, apparently,” Bryant said in a monotone.