by Joyce Armor
Bridget and Karl planned to stay overnight in the Vale Hotel, while Per, Gus and the baby traveled back to the ranch. They said their goodbyes in front of the mercantile, where Per had bought a few cooking supplies. As Gus and Karl loaded the supplies into the wagon, Per took Bridget aside. The bride poked Henry in the stomach and he giggled.
“He’s getting so big.”
“Don’t I know it. Listen, do you have any questions about…tonight?”
Bridget looked confused for a moment, then it dawned on her what her cousin was talking about. She snorted. “I grew up on a farm. I think I understand the concept.”
“Yes, well, the first time can hurt a little, but I promise you, it gets better. Much better.” She smiled almost lasciviously, and Bridget laughed.
“Honestly, Per, I can’t wait. I want to kiss him right here in the street.”
Per laughed. Bridget would be fine. And she couldn’t have found a better husband, at least now that Karl had worked through his injuries and all the pain and anguish they had caused him.
As they said their goodbyes, Bridget gave Per the small bouquet of yellow and purple wildflowers Karl had handed her before the ceremony. Karl’s thoughtfulness, such a small gesture, had brought tears to her eyes. It was the little things that really made all the difference in a relationship, she decided.
As she and her husband strolled up the boardwalk hand in hand, she thought about what would have happened if Karl hadn’t had the accident. They would have been married as soon as she arrived, and it wouldn’t have been the same. Oh, they would have gone on together fine, and their affection for each other would have grown, but now they were starting out on much firmer ground. They had grown closer by working through adversity and sharing their hopes and dreams, and she could not be happier. Karl was the man her heart had envisioned, and she hoped they would have a dozen babies. Well, maybe not a dozen. Perhaps 11. She grinned.
“What are you so pleased about?”
“Everything.”
“Oh? I thought maybe it was your new husband.” He smiled. He truly was the handsomest man she had ever known.
“Yes, that too, I suppose.”
“Oh, you suppose, do you?”
She laughed. Life was good.
“Shall we get some dinner before we…well, are you hungry?”
She wanted to laugh at his shyness in naming the event they were both looking forward to. “Yes, it’s suppertime and I am hungry. Then maybe we could bathe.”
Now he was uncomfortable walking. Did she have to mention getting naked? Oh, she didn’t say that exactly, but that’s what he pictured. He squeezed her hand. His precious Bridget. How close he had come to throwing her away. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The roast beef dinner was tasty and intimate. They talked about the ranch and the new foals as well as improvements they might make to the cabin. She had felt comfortable sharing the house with Per and Gus. They had never made her feel like a third wheel or an imposition, but it was more than time to go. They needed their privacy and she needed to begin her life with Karl. Mrs. Karl Burgen. Bridget Burgen. It sounded so dang good.
While their bath was being prepared in their room, Mr. and Mrs. Burgen decided to walk off their dinner. They meandered down to the livery to check on their horses and then walked back past the mercantile and bank. They had just reached the community center when Bridget stopped.
“Ouch! I’ve got a pebble or something in my shoe.”
Just as she bent down to remove the offending item, a shot rang out. Karl knocked his wife down, putting his body over hers as he pulled out his gun. He looked around and saw nothing. Then shouts rang out and the sheriff and a deputy came running, guns drawn.
“Did you see who it was?”
Karl looked around cautiously again then rose, helping Bridget up. Her pretty light blue gown was covered in dirt. “No, but I’ve got a good idea.”
“Pike.”
Karl nodded. He and Bridget exchanged a look. If she hadn’t gotten that pebble in her shoe… The shot went into the building at her head height, just where Bridget had been standing. He would have been a widower, less than an hour after his wedding. She bent down and took off the shoe, shaking the life-saving pebble out. Thank you, God.
“Are you all right?” Karl’s look was a combination of concern and fury.
“I’m fine. You?”
“Fine. Of course.”
She smiled. “Of course.”
“We’ll scour the town, but I’m not holding my breath,” the sheriff said. “He’s a slippery one. Best you head back to your hotel.” He started to walk away. “Oh, and congratulations.”
They both thanked him. Holding hands, they walked back to the hotel at a faster pace than they had started out.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“For getting you into this. That bullet could have hit you as easily as me. If I hadn’t gotten into that shoot-out with the Pikes…”
“This has nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong. The man was killed because he stole our cattle and tried to shoot his way out of trouble. That’s all there is to it.”
“Maybe we should go back to the ranch and warn Gus and Per.”
“Gus will take care of his family. You’re not getting out of our night in the hotel, Mrs. Burgen.”
She chuckled. “Whatever you say, Mr. Burgen.”
He had a feeling he’d better not get used to hearing her say that. He didn’t think he would hear it very often in the coming years from his independent wife.
Bridget was surprised when Karl allowed her privacy for her bath. She thought for sure he would stand there ogling her and planned to give him quite a show. She had no doubt he wanted her, so she didn’t let it bother her overly much. She bathed as quickly as she could so the water would still be warm for her husband. Her husband. It still sounded unreal. She smiled as she stepped out of the tub and began drying herself with the provided towel, luxuriating in its fluffiness. She and Karl had been through so much together, and they had only been married a couple of hours. What adventures did life hold for them?
The door opened then and Bridget squeaked, hurriedly wrapping the towel around her. She was relieved to see it was Karl and couldn’t miss the smoldering in his eyes, not to mention the movement in his pants. Another adventure was about to begin.
Karl stood frozen and struggled to speak. “I…find myself at a loss for words, Mrs. Burgen.”
She grinned. “The bath water is still warm, Mr. Burgen, and there’s a bucket of warmer water for rinsing. Might I assist you?”
“Yes,” he sputtered, “and it’s going to be the quickest bath known to man.”
He started stripping, dropping his clothes as he barreled toward the bathing tub. She had already seen him naked but not with his member standing at attention. It looked awfully big to her and she had a moment wondering how it would ever fit inside her. And then he splashed her as he practically dove into the tub. Before she could even turn around, he was briskly washing his limbs. She kneeled down behind him, leaned over and took the soap from his hand, running it slowly down his back on one side and up the other side, then in circles. She set the soap down and then rubbed it around with her hands before massaging his shoulders, the soapy surface of his body allowing her hands to slide sensuously over his body. She smiled as he moaned.
“The rinse?”
His voice was husky, which did something to her nerves. They began to tingle. The only thing she could think of was getting him to the bed, so she snatched up the bucket of warm water and dumped it on his head. He sputtered as it cascaded over him and then stood. God, he was magnificent. He had worked his way through the injuries and pain and become the man he was meant to be. She stood and handed him the other white terry towel and was convinced no man had ever dried himself faster. She didn’t remember how her towel came off or how they ended up in the bed, but there they were, thrashing around before he slowed everyth
ing down, which speeded her heart up to a crescendo.
Chapter 6
She was a woman. Well, of course she was a woman. But now she was truly a woman, thoroughly wedded and bedded. If she was any judge, Karl was a magnificent lover, his passionate kisses only the tip of the iceberg. Maybe “iceberg” was the wrong word since he had heated her up until she had virtually exploded in a burst of glory. And the pain? What pain? It was a pinch at best and quickly lost in a cornucopia of sensations. Thank God she had been able to help him get the feeling back in his hand because those fingers had magic in them. She didn’t think there was one square inch of her body they hadn’t explored and lit up.
As Bridget was happily cataloguing the previous night’s bedroom activities, Karl was thanking his lucky stars that his wife was so sensitive to his touch and passionate in a way that he had never encountered and could not have hoped for. Her response was so loving and pure, it humbled him. He reached over and pulled her into his arms, smiling at her tousled hair, which was tangled after he’d insisted she leave it down and not keep it braided as she usually did at bedtime. She looked thoroughly sated.
“Good morning, love. How’s the shoulder? I hope I didn’t hurt it last night.”
“It’s fine, barely sore. I think lovemaking is good medicine.” She could feel his awakening interest pressing into her back. “Is it morning already?” She wiggled closer to him, knowing exactly what she was doing. “Shall we get up?”
“Uh, not just yet,” he said, gently sucking on the back of her neck with a sensuous kiss and then repeating the action behind her right ear.
She moaned and turned, and then they kissed, their tongues gently dueling, hands roving and bodies writhing until they were joined in another passionate union. He stifled her enthusiastic shout with a kiss as she reached her climax but couldn’t rein in his own roar as he pumped his seed deep into her womb. After they regained their senses, she stretched and let out a little moan that had him seriously thinking about going at it again.
“Maybe we should stay an extra day in the hotel,” he grinned.
She rubbed her hand along his chest. “You know I would like that, but we’ve got three horses ready to foal and a herd to fatten up and sell.”
He nuzzled her neck, breathing softly on it. “I love it when you talk ranch business.”
She chuckled. “Well, perhaps we could take a few more minutes…”
And then they were at it again. He was feeling quite the man, able to perform again so quickly, and she was thinking how fortunate she was that her husband was able to play her like a violin. And what a wonderful tune.
After a hearty breakfast of flapjacks, bacon and eggs, Bridget and Karl checked out of the hotel and headed for the livery. She was wearing a black split skirt Per had loaned her, thankful she wouldn’t have to struggle mounting and riding with petticoats or walk down the main street of Vale in breeches. As they strolled, she noticed Karl was constantly looking around and then she remembered Pike. I guess the honeymoon is over. She added her eyes to the vigilance and felt thankful when they reached their destination.
Until they walked into the building and saw the liveryman on the floor, blood running down the side of his face. The scene had barely registered to both of them when Hobie Pike stepped out of a stall. One part of Bridget’s brain took note of the fact that he wasn’t wearing a sling and looked recovered from any injury Gus had inflicted on him. The rest of her brain shouted “Danger!”
Pike raised his gun at the same time that Karl yanked his wife to the floor and pulled out his own sidearm. Simultaneously, she retrieved her little pistol from her pocket and everyone fired at once. Bridget heard a bullet whizzing by her head and saw one barely graze Pike’s hip. Realizing he was outgunned, the outlaw disappeared out the back, where they noticed for the first time that a board was missing.
“Are you all right?” Karl held Bridget’s shoulders, studying her face with concern.
“I’m fine. Go get him. I’ll check on Mr. Soames.”
Karl was in awe of his wife’s presence of mind. No whimpering miss here. He squeezed her shoulder, then bolted to the back of the stable, carefully peered both ways through the opening and then took off. Bridget said a quick prayer that he would be safe and approached the injured stable owner, who appeared to be about 50. A hard 50. Besides the pistol, she always carried a handkerchief in her pocket, and she used that to gently pat the blood on the man’s face so she could check the wound. It didn’t look serious, as long as he awakened. He had a small cut and a large lump. He would have a big bruise and a bigger headache when he awoke, not to mention a black eye.
Just as she had that thought, Soames moaned and struggled to sit up.
“Lay back, Mr. Soames, you have a big knot on your head.”
“That…that polecat came sneakin’ up on me. Didn’t even see him.”
“My husband went after him. I haven’t heard any more shots, so he may have gotten away again.”
At that point, the sheriff burst into the livery, gun drawn. She thought she may have seen that “you again” look in his eyes, though he covered it quickly. She explained what had happened, and he cautiously went out through the missing board in the back. By the time Karl and Sheriff Marks returned to the stable several minutes later, Mr. Soames was sitting up drinking a cup of tea, and Bridget had bandaged his head. She looked up at her husband, who appeared frustrated.
“He got away?”
He nodded. The sheriff said the usual things about being careful, defending themselves but not taking the law into their own hands. They thanked him and settled with the livery owner, who tried to give back their money. After assuring themselves Mr. Soames was all right, they saddled their horses and began the long ride to the cabin. They were resting the horses by a creek and sharing cheese and biscuits when Bridget sighed.
“What?”
“It’s nerve-racking waiting for Pike to attack. I wish we could just track him down and turn him in. Or finish him off.”
“I didn’t realize I married such a bloodthirsty woman, Mrs. Burgen.”
“I told you what happened with my cousin Sophie, didn’t I?”
“When that bordello owner attacked her?”
She took a bite of cheese and chewed thoughtfully. He couldn’t help but watch her lips as she licked them. Lord, he wanted to ravish her here in the woods.
“Well, that didn’t work out so well, but the point is, they knew he was after them and decided to set a trap for him. Maybe we could do the same for Pike, figure out a way to draw him in when and where we want him.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “It’s worth thinking about. We’ll talk about it with Gus and Per. I think she’s as devious as you are.”
She hugged him warmly. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Mr. Burgen.”
When they arrived back at the homestead late in the afternoon, Gus and the ranch hands were out with the herd and Per was taking laundry off the line. Henry was asleep, lying in the shade in the little cradle Gus had made. It was such a sweet domestic scene, it squeezed Bridget’s heart. It seemed so natural now that Per was a simple housewife and mother, not the uppity heiress people once thought she was. Bridget couldn’t wait until she and Karl started their own family. But before that, they needed to get rid of the danger the crazy Pike brought to their doorstep.
Over a supper of venison stew, fried onions and beans, which ranch hands Jeff and Marty also enjoyed, the group discussed the danger Hobie Pike presented and went over ways to draw him out so they could end it once and for all. They finally decided they would make it appear that Gus, Karl and Bridget were camping out after moving the herd to the south pasture. They would make up fake bedrolls and lie in wait for the outlaw to attack. It might be an exercise in futility, as Pike could be in Texas by now or not ready to go after them just yet. But it was worth a try. They could run the scam several nights while branding the young cattle during the day. Jeff and Marty would fulfill t
heir duties as usual. Meanwhile, Per would take care of Henry and household chores while remaining vigilant.
Per was frustrated at being relegated to the house, although she understood that Henry’s safety took priority. The three who were acting as targets took turns coming home at different times for baths, changes of clothes and home-cooked meals. At about 6:00 on the second evening, the beef stew was simmering on the stove as Per read a story to Henry, who was playing with the buttons on her dress and probably not hearing her words at all. Then she heard the horses whinnying. Was someone in the barn? It was probably Bridget, but what if it wasn’t? She retrieved a toy she kept in the icebox to soothe the baby’s teething and placed it with him in his crib.
Grabbing her pistol off the mantel, she quietly left by the back door and kept to the shadows on the side of the house as she approached the barn. The sliding door, which should have been closed, was open about a foot. None of her family members or employees had ever done that. Now she had a decision to make. Should she wait for one of the ranch hands to come back or Bridget? It was her turn to come for supper.
She decided she could not take the chance it was Pike. She would not let that murderer anywhere near Henry. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she hurried across the open space to the barn door. Once she reached it, she carefully peeked inside. With the door almost closed, it was fairly dark. The horses had quieted down but still seemed nervous. She looked from stall to stall and didn’t see anything. That didn’t mean someone wasn’t hiding in the back of a stall or in the tack room.
If someone was there and he listened carefully, he could surely hear the pounding of her heart. Although she had faced danger before, she had never had so much at stake. Cocking the pistol, she stepped inside the barn with the gun pointing toward the unknown. Walking noiselessly as her husband, a former trapper and scout, had taught her, she first checked out the tack room. Empty. Then, one by one, she peered into the stalls. By the time she got to the fourth one, she had to concentrate on not letting her guard down. The gun was getting heavy. Her mind wanted to convince her it had all been a false alarm. Her heart, however, told her something was amiss.