Rejected Bride

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Rejected Bride Page 6

by Margaret Tanner


  ***

  Early the next day they prepared for their journey to the Mission. Jemma saddle Brandy and secured both their bedrolls. What a magnificent horse he was. She had volunteered to walk while Kyle rode. His concern for his horse carrying double for too long, even though she was a light weight, was tempered with not wanting her to walk all the way.

  “How about I ride some of the way from here while it’s cooler and Brandy is fresh, then walk?”

  Kyle gnawed his lip. “That could work. If I wasn’t so darn weak...”

  “You can’t walk. It will take you all your time to sit on the horse.”

  He gave up arguing because he knew she was right.

  She led Brandy over to him and the horse obediently bent down.

  “I’m afraid I’m not up to mounting you in the usual way, my old friend.” Grasping the horse’s mane and with her help and a few groans and curses, Kyle was finally mounted and Brandy obligingly stood upright.

  What a magnificent animal. Any horse lover would give twenty years of their life to own a horse like him she thought. One last look to check they had left nothing behind, and the fire was out then they set off.

  “Only walk him,” Kyle said, his voice rasping with pain and exhaustion. He should still be resting.

  “Okay.” She reached around him and picked up the reins, wondering whether she should have refused to leave here until tomorrow. Kyle obviously thought he was stronger than he was.

  He slumped against her and she didn’t know how long she could sustain the pressure of his weight.

  As they plodded along, she prayed they would find a suitable place to stop so Kyle could have a rest. She worried about whether her stitches would hold against the continual movement and what would happen to his wound if they didn’t. Worrying and fretting she took little notice of their surroundings, just kept Brandy heading in the direction Kyle had pointed out.

  After a time, the going became rougher, the countryside hilly and tree covered. “I’m walking from now on,” she said.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Kyle, did you hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  She eased him away from her and dismounted causing him to slump forward. “Loop your fingers through his mane. I’ll lead him and look for a place for us to rest for a while.”

  A little further on they came to a small clearing. There was no water close by, but it was cool and shady enough for them to rest for an hour or so. Kyle was exhausted, slumped forward in the saddle.

  What kind of fool was she for letting him talk her into leaving a relatively comfortable camp for – well, she wasn’t sure what. It wasn’t as if they could get extra supplies out here. The horse bent down low enough for him to climb off with her help. With her arm around him, and hunched over like an old man, he stumbled over to the nearest tree and all but collapsed under its shade.

  Dashing back to the horse she unhooked her canteen. “I’ll give you a drink in a minute, boy.” She patted his neck. “Your master’s needs are more urgent than yours.”

  She hurried over to Kyle. His face was deathly white under his black beard stubble. The whiskey was all gone. She placed the canteen to his cracked lips. “Drink slowly.”

  It broke her heart to see him in such a pitiful state.

  “Thanks.” He grasped her hand. “I’m sorry, I should have paid heed to you.”

  “You obviously thought you were stronger than what you are. Rest for a while, it will help. I’ll give Brandy some water from your canteen. Won’t be much, though.”

  “There’s water here if you know where to look.”

  “But I don’t know where to look.” His eyes were closed now, hard to know whether he heard her or not. It was tempting to check their surroundings, yet she dared not. What if there were prowling cougars or some other wild animal? “If you get lost Kyle will die with no-one to look after him,” she muttered.

  Her stomach was empty. She could never remember ever feeling this hungry before. She stepped over to the horse and took a few mouthfuls of water from the canteen then emptied some of it into her hat. “Just a little drink for you, Brandy. We can’t afford to use up too much of our water.” She loosened his cinch strap but dared not take the saddle off in case she couldn’t get it back on again.

  Kyle was sprawled on the ground flat on his back, his Stetson covering his face. She sat next to him leaning against a tree. What I wouldn’t give for a fat juicy steak with potatoes, gravy and greens. She closed her eyes and could almost taste it. Peach cobbler for dessert maybe? Fried eggs and potatoes would go down well if she was aiming too high wanting steak. Heck, a piece of buttered bread would be welcome right now.

  She bit off the hysterical laugh bubbling up in her throat. You’re behaving like a crazy woman Jemma. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift off.

  “Are you awake?” Kyle’s hand on her shoulder as much as his words penetrated her sleep. “We should be off if we want to make it to the Mission before dark.”

  Chapter Ten

  They set off again. The sun was high in the sky now. Jemma trudged along leading the horse while Kyle was slumped in the saddle. She kept glancing at him ready to spring into action if he started to topple off.

  They were now climbing, even if the incline was slight. The trees had thinned out somewhat allowing her to see the top of a chimney.

  “Kyle.”

  “Mm.” He groaned.

  “There’s a chimney over there.” Her legs were hurting, the hungry ache in her stomach was becoming worse. If there was a ranch house here, hopefully they could buy food off the occupants.

  “Probably deserted,” he said. “There are abandoned, derelict places scattered all around here.”

  “I hope it’s a ranch with someone living there,” she said, leading Brandy off to the right, letting the horse pick his way over the rough ground.

  As they got closer Jemma could have screamed with disappointment. The place was tumbling down. The porch sagged, and the door had snapped off its hinges and dropped to the ground. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. Now what would they do? Two tins of beans and a few strips of dried meat and coffee was all the supplies they had.

  “We could stop here for a rest, the place would have to have a well or some source of water,” he said. “Help me down. I’ll sit on what’s left of the porch.”

  “Be careful, it looks ready to collapse.”

  “I will. You take a look around, but be wary, Jemma.”

  When she helped him to the porch, he held on to a post to lower himself on to the broken boards and slumped against the wall.

  Jemma didn’t bother tethering the horse as he never wandered too far from Kyle. She had never seen such devotion on the part of an animal before.

  The soles of her feet were burning, her legs ached. The years of living with Viola had certainly sapped her stamina and spirit. If only she had kept practicing her shooting, they wouldn’t be in such dire straits. She could have shot something for them to eat. As it was now, she couldn’t shoot the side of a barn.

  Trudging around to the back of the house she kept her eyes peeled for danger. All was quiet. It was obvious no-one had lived here for years.

  “Thank you, God.” She sank to her knees on seeing a creek flowing by. All the outbuildings had tumbled down and were overgrown with weeds and vines. Plenty of firewood to be had.

  Was that a peach tree? She dashed toward it. A few peaches were still on it, although sadly, piles of fruit lay rotting on the ground. She reached up and picked one, biting into it immediately. It tasted delicious. She grabbed and ate a couple more then feeling ashamed of her greed and thinking of poor Kyle, she picked a couple more and dashed back to him.

  “Peaches,” she said, handing him one. “They aren’t very big but taste sweet enough. Eat it slowly.”

  He grinned at her. “You’re treating me like a baby.”

  “I am not.”


  “Mm, these aren’t bad.” He put his tongue out to lick the juice off his lips.

  “There’s plenty of timber lying around and a creek close by. I’ll check the inside of the house now. Maybe the fireplace will be useable. How would a nice hot coffee go down?” Jemma started to feel optimistic now.

  “There could be a garden,” he said.

  “I was thinking that, too. A few things might be still growing, I mean, vegetables would go to seed and new plants could spring up.”

  “Yeah. Take Brandy to the water first.”

  “Yes, I will.” She stepped over to the horse who was waiting patiently a few feet away and led him down to the water. “You’re a good boy.” She patted his neck. She filled their canteens a little way up from where he was drinking, then scooped some of the fresh cool water into her mouth.

  On returning to the front of the house, she glanced worriedly at Kyle who looked pale and exhausted. If the interior of this place was anyway decent and she could find some vegetables, maybe it would be better for them to spend the night here and give him a chance to regain more strength.

  Inside, it was dull. The two glass windows in the one room were intact and so filthy you couldn’t see out of them. Many of the floorboards were missing, although the fireplace seemed intact on closer inspection. The farthermost corner from the doorway was the best part of the place. A broken table, an old chair and a decrepit looking kitchen dresser, which contained a cooking pot and a couple of pieces of crockery, being the only furniture. She mulled over the possibilities. A creek might mean fish or water birds.

  “Jemma,” Kyle called out.

  “Coming.”

  “What did you find?” He shifted himself into a more upright sitting position.

  “It’s not too bad, the fireplace looks to be okay.”

  “Maybe we should spend the night here,” he shocked her by saying.

  Her heart dropped to her boots. “Do you feel bad?”

  “I’m not real good, but I was thinking mainly of you. You’re exhausted and need to rest.”

  “If I could find us something to eat, I think we should.”

  She trudged around to the back of the house again. The porch here was intact although some of the roof shingles were missing. There was an overgrown herb garden. A little further down the back, weeds grew tall but it between was pumpkin vines with a few small pumpkins still attached.

  She picked several of them. Lack of water and care had reduced their size, but they seemed okay. Pumpkin and peaches, better than nothing. Pulling away more weeds she discovered carrots, all undersized but she wasn’t complaining. It was food. A few herbs from the garden and they could have a nice stew, meatless, but nevertheless nourishing.

  She nearly yelled out in excitement. Poor Kyle would be wondering where she was. Carrying the battered dish she had found and with a new spring in her step, she hurried back to the house. Kyle was standing up hanging on to a post.

  “Where have you been?” he demanded, his eyes dark with worry.

  “Getting these.” She showed him the vegetables. “I definitely think we should stay here now I’ve found us food.”

  “Good idea.” His quick response was worrying.

  “You shouldn’t be standing up.”

  “I know, and I’m as weak as a kitten, but I had to relieve myself.”

  “How about I unsaddle Brandy and let him graze?” she suggested.

  “Good idea, if there are any oats left give him a couple of handfuls, he’s earned them.”

  ***

  After she unsaddled the horse, she staggered into the house carrying the saddle then returned for the saddlebags and bedrolls and dumped them inside. Kyle in the meantime had got himself into the house and was slumped against the wall.

  “Now for the fire.” We don’t need to go outside for wood there’s plenty of it lying around in here.

  After lighting the fire, she watched the smoke going up the chimney. It didn’t come back so thankfully the chimney wasn’t blocked. “I’ll get the coffee on for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  After opening out their bedrolls, she helped Kyle to lie down.

  She took the old pot she had found down to the creek to wash it. Once the grime and dust were washed off it was perfectly usable with no rust whatsoever on it. A couple of wild turkeys fossicked around near where she had pulled out the weeds. If only she could shoot straight what an addition to her stew they would make.

  Maybe they should stay here for a couple of days, decent food and rest would help Kyle. “You would have him all to yourself,” a little voice inside her head whispered. She was starting to have strong feelings for Kyle Lovitt. How he felt about her she had no idea. He had asked her to marry him, not out of love, just a need to do the gentlemanly thing because he had compromised her. All he felt toward her was gratitude and a desire to do the right thing. She wanted more from him yet feared she would never get it. “Stop thinking stupid thoughts. He’s prepared to marry you, that’s a start.”

  She washed her face and hands in the cool water and was tempted to strip off her clothing and jump in to thoroughly cleanse her whole body but restrained herself – for now. There was too much to do.

  While Kyle slept, she washed the vegetables and chopped them up on a piece of wood using his knife. They had no salt, so she threw a handful of garden herbs into the water for flavor and added the vegetables.

  The vegetables were a little woody; a slow cook in plenty of water should soften them. When Kyle woke up, hopefully they would be ready to eat. The beans she would save for their journey to the Mission.

  If only she could work out some way to catch those turkeys, or maybe there were water birds hiding in the reeds on the far side of the creek. What a meal they would make for them.

  By pushing the pot away from the hottest part of the fire it could simmer for as long as necessary without boiling dry. Feeling exhausted she lay down next to Kyle and closed her eyes.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kyle woke up to find Jemma asleep beside him. What a pretty gal she was even in her disheveled state. Such lovely white skin. He ran his finger gently along her jawline.

  He hadn’t really thought seriously about taking a wife until he met her. Once they were married by Father Joseph, he wondered whether she’d allow him to make her his wife in every way. He had the same needs and urges as most men his age.

  His strength was slowly returning. It infuriated him to be so weakened and dependent. By his reckoning they were about four hours away from the Mission. If they stayed the night here, ate some decent food it would stand them in good stead. It had been hard on Brandy carrying double in this kind of terrain, even if Jemma was a light weight. He hated that she had to walk so far yet she never complained, just kept stoically going, even though she was exhausted.

  He rested his hand on her hip to keep her close. What he wouldn’t give to have her in his arms in a nice soft bed. Would she like his house? It was rough and needed work although the bed was nice and soft.

  The old couple who had lived on the property in his grandfather’s time had stayed on after the old man passed away. A home for as long as they wanted had been stipulated in his Will, and his father who had inherited the ranch hadn’t bothered with the place or them. Once they got too old to stay at the ranch it had been abandoned. Most of the cattle had been rustled or wandered off by the time he claimed the place.

  The ranch house had simply been locked up and left. He had cleaned away the dust and grime accumulated over the years on his last visit and was all set to take a few days break to do some repairs when this had to happen. Because you let that no good, varmint Frank creep up on you.

  “What did you say?” Jemma asked.

  His muttering must have woken her.

  “Sorry, just thinking out loud.”

  “I might as well check on our vegetables. You know, I saw a couple of wild turkeys out in the garden after I�
�d pulled out the weeds,” she gabbled.

  He laughed. “Do I make you nervous, my little Jemma.”

  “I’m not your little Jemma.”

  “Would you like to be?” He watched red creep up into her cheeks.

  “I don’t know what you mean. Anyway, I have to check the vegetables haven’t boiled dry.”

  “They haven’t.”

  “How would you know?” She twisted a loosened strand of hair around her forefinger.

  “I’d have smelled them burning. You know the turkeys you were talking about?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m a good shot. Have to be in my line of work. If I could get close to where they are, I could get one for us.”

  Thanks to Jemma’s care his wounds were healing with no infection setting in. The main problem was his ribs and the feeling of weakness. He hadn’t eaten much since being shot. Jemma had lost weight also, not that there had been very much of her to begin with.

  A couple of days eating decent food would do them good. They could get Father Joseph to marry them, then head for the ranch. He rubbed his palm against the bristles on his chin. What he wouldn’t give for a bath and a shave.

  Jemma sat up and sprung to her feet. Why was it that he suddenly felt bereft when her soft warmth left him? His feelings for her were growing stronger every day.

  Jemma stepped over to the fire to check the vegetables which were softening up nicely. She poured their coffee and handed Kyle his in a mug. She drank hers from an empty beans tin. It didn’t affect the taste, she just had to be careful not to cut her mouth on any jagged edges, although as best she could, she had flattened them down with a stone.

  “You should have this mug,” he said.

  “No, it’s easier for you to drink from it. I just remembered I found a couple of cups here and should have used one of those.” She laughed. “You’ve got enough wounds as it is without cutting your lip.”

 

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