Pierce did, for how could he ever forget? Even now, it seemed to drive a rusted blade into his chest.
“Aye. You explained to me that it was damaged and therefore, I can die years before my time,” he said with a hitch in his throat.
“Oui. It is what Freya wants. You—dead.”
“Bloody hell,” he groaned. “Is it she who has done all this, then?”
“Non. She cannot harm you so far from her. She will need to draw you back to England.”
Pierce snorted. “That ain’t ever going to happen.”
“You do understand my concern, Grandson? Without being in the protection of the time line the Fates have granted you, your death may come prematurely.”
“You’ll protect me, though, right?”
Her hand slid down the side of his face. Her touch was always warming.
“I have always protected you, Pierce. And I’ll continue doing so until my dying day.”
“Good,” he said, taking her hand and holding it gently in both of his. “’Cause I’ll need every drop of help I can get.”
He kissed her on the cheek and left for his hut. After everything that occurred throughout the day, and the pressure of what was at stake—the lives now depending on him, along with the grim news Grandmother Fey told him—he just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. When he entered the hut, he didn’t know what to expect. Another argument? Would his wife even be there? He held his breath, then released it when he found a candlelight dinner waiting for him.
Taisia took a seat on the furs. “Come sit and eat with me, my love.”
She looked so charming in the firelight. He found himself grinning as he sat across from her. He admired the bounty spread before him; cuts of cooked deer meat, bowls of corn, nuts, and seeds. And set in the middle of it all, was a jug.
“It’s wine,” Taisia explained. “I had brought it back with me from the ship.”
Pierce was over the moon.
“Cheers, Tai. For all of this. I really need it.”
And he did. These simple comforts: dinner, wine, the company of his love. It greatly lifted his heavy mood. He offered the wine to her.
“Do you want any of this?”
“Nyet. Sees Beyond warned against drinking alcohol while I’m with child. It could hurt the baby.”
“Eh?” he said, baffled. “Is that so?”
Pierce didn’t know whether to believe that one or not. He’d seen pregnant women boozing away without any issues. Even so, he knew better than to ignore Sees Beyond’s wisdom, especially regarding his own child. He took a drink from the jug, feeling the bitter wine flow delightfully over his tongue.
He reached into his rucksack and handed her the folded dress wrapped in brown paper. “I bought you a new dress.”
Her face lit up. “Thank you, Pierce.”
As he ate dinner, his thoughts went to the other events that had happened that day.
The kiss.
Pierce thought about confessing it, but the way Taisia smiled at him, and considering all the effort she had put into making the meal, he didn’t want to spoil it with a topic that could wait for another time.
After dinner, they lay together under the stars, visible through the hole in the roof overhead, and enjoyed the cool of the desert night. Taisia held him against her, stroking his hair.
“Pierce.”
“Aye?”
“What were you going to ask me the other day?”
Pierce breathed in deeply and said, “I just wanted to know if you’re satisfied with your decision to be my wife, and if you want to be with me forever.”
There was a pause, which caused him to sit up to look at her.
She was smiling at him.
“On our wedding day, you told me you loved me so much, it kills you sometimes. That you cannot, and have no intentions of carrying on without me by your side. It was in that moment that I realized I wanted nothing more than for you to be my husband.” She touched his cheek and rubbed her thumb over it. “Pierce Landcross, I am happy to be your wife. Happy to be part of your family and most of all . . .” She set his hand over her stomach. “. . . I’m overjoyed to be having a child with you. And I have no doubts that I shall remain happy for the rest of my life.”
He blew out a long breath of relief.
“That’s grand,” he said cheerfully. “If that’s the case, then, by all means, dance with all the handsome gents you want, love.”
She chuckled, and when she did, a thump struck her from within her womb. Pierce snatched his hand away.
“The baby has been active,” his wife informed him.
Chapter Ten
Badges? Yes, You Need Stinkin’ Badges
The debris from the crash was nearly cleared away and the dragon moved out of the square by the time Emma and Gabriela got the broken remains of the Wheel loaded onto the wagon.
“We are lucky we’re not also in jail,” Gabriela huffed, lifting the tailgate up and latching it. “That stupid child should have never been in our machine.”
“I already told you, Gabriela, there was no reason why it should have started—not without it being cranked. There shouldn’t have been oil inside. Did you refill it?”
“No,” Gabriela replied earnestly. “Other than hauling the damn thing back to the square on my own, I haven’t touched it.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“Who cares whether it makes sense or not, Emma? What matters is that we ought to leave the city first thing in the morning before they decide to reclaim our winnings and toss us in a cell.”
Remembering the public’s reaction to the crash, Emma knew she was right. They could both end up in jail for simply owning the machine.
“I’m taking the Wheel to the hotel stable,” Gabriela stated, clambering onto the wagon. “Are you coming?”
“No. I’m going for a walk.”
* * *
Emma strolled through the city streets and down to the beach. She pulled off her boots and stood in the cool sand.
She tried wrapping her head around the accident. The oil had all burned away during the race. The Wheel had barely made it to the waiting area after she used the booster. Not to mention, it wouldn’t have even started without the engine being cranked, and only she and Pierce had been standing near it at the time. How on earth had it happened?
“It’s nice out here, is it not?” came a deep voice in the dark. “The sea air clears the mind.”
Emma grabbed her single shot pistol from inside her satchel and held it to her side. “Quien es? I have a gun.”
“I know,” the stranger admitted.
The light of the half-moon barely gave the stranger any shape. He was tall and ghostly looking in the pastel glow.
“I’m not here to do you any harm,” he promised. “I was at the square when the accident happened.”
“You were? Did you see if anyone besides me and the gentleman I was talking to had touched the machine?”
“What you ought to ask yourself, young lady, is how you can help that man who is in great trouble over this.”
“Pierce? Why? What’s going to happen to him?”
Her own question drove a dagger of fear into her heart. During the short time she and the Englishman had spent together, she had grown not only fond of Pierce, but she had also begun caring deeply for him. Any ill fate threatening him frightened her greatly.
“He is about to go up against a great peril,” the stranger said. “He will need your help.”
“What sort of help can I give?”
“Join him. He will need someone to protect him on his journey. I daresay, a person who holds affections for him.”
His words knocked Emma’s breath out of her. How was he aware of her feelings?
Emma wished she didn’t have these feelings toward a man with a wife and a child on the way. She struggled with it every minute, telling herself how wrong she was to even consider trying to take him away from his woman.
“He
was born to be your mate,” the mysterious stranger unexpectedly told her. “The two of you were custom made for each another.”
She stuttered out, “Who-who are you?”
“I am the voice you want to hear.”
He hit the mark there. She desired Pierce so much it hurt. Emma had been with her fair share of men during her world travels. She had even fallen into a few relationships. She found Pierce different and intriguing. She yearned for him so greatly that if he came to her right then and asked her to conceive his child, she’d happily do so. That said a lot about someone who cringed at the word motherhood. Having to give up her adventurous lifestyle in order to raise children had never appealed to her. Yet, with Pierce, she sensed it wouldn’t be like that, at all. Instead of surrendering her life, she’d be sharing it with a family. This stranger was the voice she wanted to hear. The little devil on her shoulder. However, his voice was familiar. She thought of the tall foreigner who had accused that poor native boy.
“Do I know you, señor?”
Emma waited for a response, but there was none. The stranger had left.
* * *
“You’re doing what?” Gabriela bellowed at Emma the following morning after she had driven the wagon to the front of the hotel.
“Stop yelling.” Emma tossed in a bag of things she would not need for the trip into the bed of the wagon. “I’m joining up with Pierce to assist in finding the bandits. It was our machine that caused all this trouble in the first place.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Gabriela argued. “It is the little bastard Indian boy who is to blame. There isn’t any reason why you should risk your life like this.”
“I’m going,” Emma stated tersely. “Take the racer and your half of the winnings. Head home to San Clemente. I’ll be there once I make things right.”
Gabriela pouted and her eyebrow arched. “He’s married. You do realize that?”
Emma snapped her head over to her. Humiliation heated her whole body. “I . . . I’m aware of it. This isn’t about me trying to steal him away.”
“Oh? I’ve seen how you stare at him. And that kiss after the race? Don’t tell me you were only caught up in the moment.”
Fed up with listening to her, Emma headed for the front doors of the hotel.
“Face it, Emma,” Gabriela called after her, “you want him for your own!”
“Go home,” she yelled from over her shoulder.
Emma hurried up to her room to gather the rest of her belongings. She needed to buy a horse and head for the general store for supplies before heading for the courthouse.
* * *
The morning brightened the hole in the roof of the hogan. When light touched his face, Pierce shut his eyes tight before grudgingly opening them again. It only took him seconds to remember what he was in for.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, sitting up. “I need to crack on.”
His voice, though soft, woke his wife.
“I wish I could come with you,” Taisia said.
Pierce did, too. Not only for her company, but because Taisia knew how to hold her own. Pierce’s trust in her had never wavered.
He placed his hand on her belly. It seemed to have grown. Her smile was forced. In her gaze, he saw the concerns she did not want to burden him with. The night before, Taisia had given him no flak for getting into trouble, and they hadn’t discussed what would happen if he failed. She simply offered a quiet dinner as if everything was just fine and dandy.
“Aye. Wish you could come too, love. With Itza-chu with me, though, maybe we can get this all sorted out soon.”
After saying goodbye to the family, Pierce and Itza-chu made their way to Guaymas. Riding bareback to and from the city hadn’t bothered Pierce before, but he reckoned he needed a proper saddle for the longer journey ahead.
“You are brave for doing this,” Itza-chu said. “A lesser man would’ve tried running.”
“I’m not the sort to tuck tail and run so easily, mate. Too bad your sister doesn’t see it that way.”
“Waves of Strength does, actually. When she brought me to you last night, she told me—no, ordered me—to watch over you.”
Pierce was utterly gobsmacked.
“Eh? She did?”
“But her concern is more for our people rather than you.”
Pierce snorted. “Y’know what? I’ll take it all the same.”
They reached the courthouse before nine. For Jaxton’s sake, he hoped they weren’t late.
As they approached the building, Pierce suddenly felt very small.
“Ready, lad?” he asked Itza-chu.
He seemed just as uneasy, especially after the harsh looks he’d received as they rode through the city. Pierce now understood why Itza-chu had refused to join him the other day when he first brought him to Guaymas.
They dismounted and tied their horses to the hitching post. None other than Sheriff Flores and his deputy greeted them at the top of the stairs.
“I suppose there’s something that can be said about the British,” the sheriff began. “You’re not all cowards. I almost believed you wouldn’t come.”
“Where’s Jaxton?” Pierce demanded as he reached them.
“He’s inside.” Sheriff Flores shifted his sights to Itza-chu. “What’s this prairie bastard doing here?”
“This prairie bastard is my guide, chum,” Pierce returned hotly. “I don’t know my way around the bleedin’ country, and he does.”
“He won’t be sworn in,” the lawman stated.
“Fine,” Pierce said with a casual shrug. “It’s matters little to me.”
Sheriff Flores gritted his brown teeth. It was apparent he disliked the British and had an even greater loathing for the Apache. Having both in his presence with one giving him lip, as Pierce was famous for doing, was probably making his trigger finger itch like mad.
Mayor Nicolás Belén exited the building. He pinned his sights on Pierce and smiled. “Is this the young bounty hunter who is going to find the bandits?”
It was the first real look Pierce had gotten of the man. He’d donned another stovepipe hat and stood shorter than Pierce—a stocky fellow with dark, cheery eyes, short black hair, a well-trimmed mustache, and muttonchops. He wore a tan tailcoat, pinstriped britches, a vest, and clean spats over polished shoes.
Pierce was happy he spoke English.
“Si, Mayor Belén, el es la persona,” said the sheriff.
The mayor looked over at Pierce. “Puedes hablar Español?”
The question was obviously being directed at him, but it was Itza-chu who answered. “No, Mayor. He doesn’t speak Spanish.”
“Ah, I see,” the mayor said, reverting to English. “We shall keep our conversations in the language you understand, young man.”
Pierce liked the stocky bloke.
“Itza-chu,” Mayor Belén beamed. “It has been ages, my boy. How are your mother and father?”
“They are well, Mayor.”
The sheriff didn’t seem amused by these pleasantries. “Mayor, we should really move this along.”
The mayor’s kindly face turned to him and his grin vanished. Sheriff Flores had an apparent knack for stealing smiles off people.
“Sí. Indeed. Gentlemen, follow me, por favor.”
“I will wait out here,” Itza-chu told Pierce.
The mayor led the way through the courthouse and into a room Pierce reckoned was a judge’s chambers. Inside were two officers standing beside a chair in front of a desk. Jaxton sat in the chair. When the Australian twisted around and saw them, he sagged with relief.
Jaxton stood. “Bloody hell. You’re here! I truly thought I might be in the shit.”
The bobbies who had likely brought Jaxton here from the jailhouse didn’t protest his getting up.
“Aye, lad,” Pierce said. “I’m here. Are you all right?”
“It hasn’t been my best night’s sleep,” he griped, his exhaustion surfacing as his relief subsided. “At least I wo
n’t be strung up, though.”
The sheriff ordered the officers out. It wasn’t until the crowded room cleared out that Pierce and the rest could file in.
When they did, someone behind him said, “Hola, Pierce.”
Pierce turned and saw Emma standing in the corner behind the door, a globe and a bookshelf beside her. On her vest was pinned a shiny tin badge.
“Erm, ’ello?” he greeted, perplexed. “Why are you wearing that badge?”
“I’ve just been sworn in.”
“Sworn in to do what?”
“To do the very thing you’re here to do, Señor Landcross,” Sheriff Flores answered, staying by the doorway.
Pierce looked to her. “You’re joking. Why?”
“To join you,” the mayor explained, entering. “Señorita Rojas has volunteered to assist you in the hunt.”
The sheriff walked over to where Jaxton was retrieving his coat from the backrest of the chair and slapped the Australian hard on the back. “And this gringo is accompanying all of you.”
Jaxton slowly looked over at him. “Pardon? I’m doing what now?”
Pierce felt sorry for the lad, he really did. No good deed went unpunished was what Jaxton was learning as more shite piled up around him for sticking his neck out.
“I . . . I’m no bounty hunter,” the Australian argued. “What good will I be?”
“You can ride a horse, sí?” Sheriff Flores pressed. “Shoot a gun?”
Jaxton nodded. “Aye. One better than the other, I’d say.”
Pierce bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
“Then you’ll be useful. Go with Señor Landcross or spend more time in jail until he fills your cell space with bank thieves.”
Jaxton turned his pleading eyes to the mayor. “Mayor Belén, is this legal?”
The mayor only offered a sympathetic expression. “These are desperate times, Señor Beau. We need to stop these thieves, whatever the costs. Comprende?” He turned to Pierce. “And any bank money you recover will be most appreciated.”
“What about the people whose property is damaged?” Pierce asked him.
“They have to make a claim with the Guaymas Bureau, and because you are doing this, the city will pay for the damages.”
Bounty Hunter Page 12