by Natalie Dean
“I’m sure he’s proud of you for it. For all of it.”
Piper’s face darkened. “No. He shipped me away to get married because that’s what’s proper for a lady.”
Jack looked at her sharply. He didn’t necessarily feel offended by what she had said, but he suddenly had a far clearer view of her situation. She had been forced to wed just as he had. At least he was able to stay where he was comfortable and around things and people he was accustomed to. She had to leave her country and travel to an entirely new place, without the benefit of knowing a soul.
“I imagine that this has been right hard on you,” Jack said softly.
“Yes.” Piper saw no need to embellish her words. The simple truth was always the best.
“I hope I can…” His words were cut short as a horse trotted up beside the front of the wagon. Charles Dewitt began keeping pace with them.
“Hello, Piper. Marshall.”
Piper smiled warmly, but Jack only gave a nearly imperceptible nod, his lips thinning.
“Looks like the rain might hold off.”
“It’s only eight o’clock,” Jack grumbled.
“I hope Piper will be afforded the back of a wagon if the rain does come.”
“She will.” Jack felt the muscles coiling along his upper back. What kind of man did he think he was? And it was none of his business!
The wagon rolled along, and Charles kept his horse steady in the silence around them.
“I do hope Detroit has a decent theatre.” Charles ventured. He cut his eyes to see if Jack would respond, and when he didn’t he continued on, his conversation directed at Piper.
“I saw a lovely show last fall. It was Hamlet, done so realistically, I actually felt transported back in time.”
“Oh, Hamlet is one of my favorites!” Piper’s eyes lit up. “I sorely wish I could have seen it. I’ve never seen a Shakespearian play acted out; I’ve only read them.”
“I’ll have to change that for you.” Charles winked. “Theatre is part of being cultured. Wouldn’t you agree, Marshall?”
Jack sighed quietly. “I haven’t seen any plays either.” His voice was quiet, and Piper turned her head to look at him, her smile fading.
“Well, we can’t all be cultured, now can we?” Charles gave Piper a final wink before tipping his hat to her and turning his horse back to the rear of the caravan.
Piper didn’t know what to say. She wanted to soothe the obvious embarrassment that Charles had caused, but at the same time, she wanted Jack to feel the embarrassment. Life couldn’t always just be about catching the bad guy. There was so much more. She guessed for the moment their conversation was over.
Piper climbed from the back of the Baxter’s wagon, her face flushed and her skin crawling. Whatever Mr. Baxter had was burning him up from the inside out. The older man was near to hallucinating from fever, and his skin had a shiny pulled tautness to it. Mrs. Baxter came right out after her.
“I better talk to the Marshalls,” she said quietly, her gray hair coming loose from her usual bun.
“Yes,” Piper agreed. “We may need to get him a doctor at our next town stop.”
“It’s more than just that. We carry a lot of paper money and even more gold in there!”
Piper’s eyes widened considerably, and she glanced around her before pulling Mrs. Baxter further from the caravan.
“What do you mean about gold and paper money?”
“Mr. Baxter is a banker by trade. We’re going to establish a bank in Detroit. Plus a few of the other people with us already banked with him, so they are having us hold some of their investment money in our wagon.”
“That’s why two Marshalls are escorting us?”
Mrs. Baxter nodded. “Since Jack is driving the wagon today, I felt comfortable, but I also thought my husband would bounce back from whatever this is.” Her watery blue eyes searched Piper’s face for some type of answer.
Piper ran a hand over her forehead. “We’ll find a doctor in the next town. I’ll see to it. I’ll speak to Jack and Benjamin. You go ahead back to your husband.”
Mrs. Baxter nodded and did as she was told. Piper helped her into the wagon before turning on her heel and searching out Jack. A hand caught her elbow gently. She looked up to see the concerned face of Charles staring down at her.
“May I help?”
“With?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I assure you, but I couldn’t help but hear part of that conversation.”
Piper tightened her jaw. “Mr. Baxter needs a doctor. I…I think we should push on until we come to a town. We’ve been blessed with the fact that there isn’t any rain so far.”
“I could ride ahead and see if there is at least a hamlet. No need to push the caravan if it’s only wilderness ahead.”
“Charles, that could be dangerous. You should ask Benjamin or Jack first. Maybe ask them both.”
“A little danger doesn’t frighten me.” He smiled kindly. “Besides, I’m cautious.” He opened his jacket on one side and revealed a pistol stuck in his pants at the waist. “I came prepared, just in case.”
“I see,” Piper commented. She was still unsure of how she felt about guns other than in a law enforcement capacity or a hunting one. She supposed carving out a new life for oneself in unfamiliar terrain required a bit of forethought and preparation concerning self-preservation. “Still. You should speak with one or both of them.”
“Sure.” His smile tightened. “I’ll do that right now.”
Piper kept her distance but soon watched as Charles Dewitt galloped away from the caravan. She followed Jack’s form with a slow movement of her head as he practically stomped his way to their wagon. Was he talking to himself? He stopped and scanned the area until his eyes rested on Piper. He stared for a second too long, his face smoothing from a grimace into something Piper couldn’t quite read. He lifted a gloved hand and motioned her to him.
“We’re leaving.” He held a hand out to her and helped her onto the bench seat of the wagon.
“Has Charles ridden ahead to look for a town?”
“Yes.” Jack bit down. “I hope we don’t have to waste scant manpower to form a search party for the fool.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Benjamin allowed it.”
“I think what he’s doing is very brave,” Piper sniffed.
Jack cut his eyes to her sharply but chose not to comment.
Piper willed her body to relax as the wagon began moving. She couldn’t understand her mixed up mind and feelings. She had prided herself on her practicality and her lack of rashness. Yet, here she was sitting on a wagon seat beside her soon to be husband in silence, while her mind and heart went forward with the galloping hooves of Charles Dewitt’s mare. He was genteel, educated, ambitious, and well spoken. Charles was everything that she had dreamed of in a husband since her youth.
Piper slid her eyes to Jack. He lacked every one of those qualities she coveted. He may very well be educated, and he wasn’t badly spoken; but he was far from genteel, and he definitely wasn’t ambitious. His goal was to have a little farm? No, not ambitious in the least. Yet, here he was; the man her father chose for her to marry.
But my father isn’t here. If I chose one better than Jack Walker, how could he argue later?
Piper chewed on her lip as she considered her traitorous thoughts.
“What’s wrong with you, woman?” Jack spit out. “Are you that worried about him?”
Piper’s eyes enlarged. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’re sitting over there looking practically peaked, and you may very well chew your lip right off your face!”
“I was just thinking, Jack!” she huffed loudly and crossed her arms over her chest.
“That was the ugliest thinking I have ever seen!”
Piper opened her mouth and narrowed her eyes. Had he just called her ugly?!
“Well, if that’s how you feel, then stop this wagon at once and let me off! I wouldn’t want you to burn y
our eyeballs on someone so ugly!”
Jack rolled his head from side to side. “Aww, come on, Piper. I didn’t mean you were ugly! You were making a face and…”
“Stop the wagon.”
Jack pulled back gently on the reins and began to slow the horses. The wagon hadn’t completely stopped before Piper judged her distance and hopped off the wagon seat. She let out a small yelp as her foot landed wrong, and her ankle twisted.
“Are you alright?” Jack yelled and jumped down beside her.
“Fine.” She lifted her chin and began painfully walking towards the back of the caravan. Curious eyes watched her from other wagon seats and horse backs.
With a dark stare, Jack watched her hobble away, something obviously hurting her. Benjamin began riding towards him, a question already forming on his lips.
Jack raised a hand and waved him off. “Don’t ask, Ben!”
“What did you do to her?”
Jack climbed back up to the wagon seat, giving his wrists a firm snap. Undaunted, Benjamin began keeping pace.
“Well? What did you do to her?”
“Why do you assume I did something?” He dared a glance at Benjamin, who stared back with a knowing look. Jack sighed loudly, hunching his back. “I accidently called her ugly.”
Benjamin threw back his head and roared with laughter.
“How do you accidently call someone ugly? Especially someone that pretty?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Right,” he snickered. “Look, you need to be careful with her. She isn’t your wife yet, and that Dewitt character has been eyeing her since he first laid eyes on her.”
Jack’s jaw tightened as he rested his elbows on his knees, the reins slack in his hands.
“Alright,” Benjamin said once he gave Jack adequate time to respond. He studied his friend’s profile, a feeling of pity coming over him. Jack had sworn off women for himself a long time before, but he was in a hard place. He was practically forced into the marriage, but at the same time, he could have simply said no. Benjamin was sure there was something in his friend that desired a wife and a family. “I’ll be towards the back,” he finally said and turned his horse.
Jack’s head pounded.
How am I going to do this? I don’t even know how to talk to her!
Charles Dewitt thundered back to the caravan just before dark, his mare skidding to a stop beside the Baxter’s lead wagon.
“Well?” Jack asked, the bite in his voice evident.
“Nothing for at least twenty miles. There’s a small town just past the New York line.”
“Yeah. Well, Mr. Baxter’s fever has broken somewhat, but he still needs a doctor.”
“There’s one in the next town.”
Jack looked at Charles, his eyes narrowed.
“You didn’t ride twenty miles in and back in this short time.”
“Of course not.” Charles’s smile was slick and easy. “I met a couple trapper’s along the way. I was about to return empty handed so to speak when I found them, and they gave me the information.”
“What information?” Piper asked as she came to stand beside Charles’s horse.
“There’s a town about twenty miles from here. They have a doctor.”
Piper frowned. “Twenty miles? That’s a long way.”
“Jack tells me Mr. Baxter’s fever has broken. He’ll be better now for the wait.”
“I suppose.” Piper shifted her weight and grimaced.
Charles’s smile faded. “What’s wrong with your feet?”
Piper slid her eyes to Jack then back again.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I stepped down from the wagon wrong, and twisted my ankle.”
Charles dismounted and took one of her hands. No one noticed Jack rolling his eyes.
“May I?” Charles asked.
“It’s not proper.”
“I assure you it is.” He said and dropped to one knee.
Jack looked around quickly. It wasn’t the kind of gossip he wanted rolling around the camp: his fiancée holding the hand of Charles Dewitt as he knelt before her on a bended knee.
Charles dropped her hand and gently picked her hurt foot up and rested it on his knee. He only raised her skirts enough to see the foot and the ankle. He touched and prodded tenderly until Piper hissed. He shot a glare over his shoulder at Jack.
“Well, it’s sprained. See that bruising? Swollen a bit too. She’s lucky she didn’t break it.” He set her foot back on the ground and took her hand once again so she could lean some of her weight on him. “A lady needs to be helped from a wagon, Marshall.”
“She left the wagon before it was properly stopped.”
“Really?” Charles’s eyes grew large. “No doubt because you upset her. She doesn’t seem like the rash type to me, and jumping from a moving wagon is pretty rash.”
“You don’t even know her,” Jack commented dryly and hopped from the wagon, turning in the same motion to tend to the horses.
“And neither do you, Sir! Imagine the absurdity of bringing a frail woman across the ocean to be your wife!”
Jack spun around, a finger already pointing at Charles’s chest. Piper intervened by placing her body between them.
“Stop it! Both of you! I left the wagon of my own accord, and it was not a good decision. It was no one’s fault but my own. Now, stop acting like children!” she said hotly and began limping away. Charles hurried to help her, giving Jack no opportunity to do so himself. He watched them walk away, Charles’s voice speaking too lowly for him to interpret what was being said. Bonnie and Mrs. Baxter had their eyes on him and soon pushed their heads together. It was the work of busy mouths for busy bodies. Jack turned back to the horses, a nervous energy eating away at his heart.
Chapter Five
Piper sat straight up, her ears ringing. What had caused the noise? Voices began raising and she slapped her hands over her hears as gunshots rang out around her. Ruth started crying in Bonnie’s arms.
“What’s happening?” Bonnie cried out and began gathering her children to herself like a mother hen. “Where’s my Blaine?”
“I don’t know,” Piper said quickly. She knew Mr. Brackett had planned to sleep right outside of the wagon. She had been unnerved by the way all of the men had been settling down to sleep on the ground with rifles lying beside them like a child may take a toy to bed. Now she understood why.
Piper dared a peek past the canvas covering at the back of the wagon. A figure darted past, and she thought she recognized the short figure of one of the other wagon owners, Mr. Armstrong, in fast pursuit. The camp erupted in another frenzy of gunfire and voices. Piper clasped both hands over her mouth as what sounded like a body falling could be heard right beside the wagon. She looked at Bonnie and into the wide, fearful eyes of her children. Even the baby had stayed decidedly quiet.
The camp became deathly still, and soon Jack’s voice was heard asking for a count of the people to be made. Running footsteps came along the side of the wagon just before the canvas pulled to the side and Jack stuck his head in.
“Are you alright?” he asked Piper, with wide eyes.
She nodded and licked her lips as Jack turned his attention to Bonnie.
“Are you alright, Ma’am?”
“Yes. Is Blaine out there?”
“I haven’t seen him yet.” Jack gave Piper a final look before ducking back out.
Piper knew it was not good judgment, but she needed to see what had happened. She moved towards the back of the wagon as Bonnie’s arm shot forward.
“Piper, no! Don’t go out there yet!”
“It’s fine. Stay with the children. I’ll see if I can find Mr. Brackett.”
Bonnie’s brown eyes were black in the darkness. “Don’t stay out there too long. We don’t know if the danger has passed.”
“The Lord is my strong tower.” Piper tried to smile, and carefully lowered herself to the ground. She tested her hurt ankle and gave herself a moment befor
e limping to the opposite side of the wagon from where people were running to and fro. Piper caught a glimpse of Jack and Benjamin dragging what looked like a man’s body between them. She carefully picked her way forward and moved to the back of the Baxter wagon, careful to keep her body hidden and part of her face.
“Is that the last?”
“Yes,” Jack confirmed, his face looking down at the body they had just dropped. Piper squinted her eyes and was stunned to see that three other bodies were lying near the one they had just drug over.
“You’re hurt?” Benjamin asked.
“It’s a flesh wound. A couple of stitches and I’ll be fine.”
Benjamin shook his head. “I didn’t see this coming. We’ve been too slack.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? Jack, come on. You know we have.”
“Something doesn’t feel right about this. Did you notice that these men only targeted two wagons?”
“So?”
“So…it was the Armstrong and Baxter wagons. The wagons with the most valuables and money.”
Benjamin whistled low. “An inside job.”
“Maybe.”
Benjamin’s head shot upward, and his eyes landed on Piper’s peeking form. He nudged Jack and motioned with his head in Piper’s direction.
Jack turned and looked down at his hand as Piper’s eyes were immediately drawn to the large Colt Walker in his right hand.
“Put that hand cannon back in your holster!” Benjamin hissed. Jack obeyed and went towards Piper holding a hand out.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” Jack scolded gently.
“I wanted to know what had happened.” Even in the scant light, Jack could see how pale she was. Her eyes flicked over to the bodies of the dead men, and her mouth and throat worked like she may be sick.
“Don’t let this worry you,” Benjamin said, using his body to help block her view. “It’s the law of the West and anywhere else for that matter. It’s kill or be killed. Jack here knows that all too well.” He clasped Jack’s shoulder and gave it a shake. “That’s why he carries that hand cannon,” he laughed.