Kizzie's Kisses (Grandma's Wedding Quilts #2)

by Zina Abbott

  A grin on his face, Leander nodded towards Kizzie. “Miss Atwell. Good to see you again.”

  Surprised he had already returned from Colorado, Kizzie looked at her feet and mumbled a greeting, grateful he said nothing about how she was dressed. Again. After their escapade by the river, she felt in need of a bath and clean clothes.

  Kizzie wondered at the tingle of excitement that coursed through her at the sight of Leander Jones. She had been so angry with him for his role in forcing Sugarcone to be bred against her wishes she didn’t want to be happy to see him again. Plus, she had to admit if he hadn’t come to her rescue with Tucker, she never would have been able to fight the man off by herself. She liked to think she could take care of herself in any circumstance she faced, and it rankled her that she had needed his intervention.

  She jerked her head up to look him in the eye at his next statement.

  “It appears Thunder proved successful. Your mare is looking good.”

  Kizzie’s face scrunched into a scowl as she tried to be angry with him. “She should look good, Mr. Jones. I take good care of her. I’m still not happy about having her bred to your stallion. Look how big she is, and she’s only halfway through her term. I’m afraid the foal’s going to be too big for her to birth successfully.”

  Leander’s face grew serious as he studied Sugarcone. He chose his words carefully. “She looks fine to me, Miss Atwell. Horses grow at different rates. But, if you don’t mind, I’ll take a closer look at her once we get her back to your farm.”

  “You’re going back to our farm?”

  Leander grinned and his eyes twinkled. “Yes, miss, I surely am. Remember, that was the stud fee I requested—a chance to stop by now and again to check on her progress.”

  Otto interrupted, curious about Leander’s presence. “We’re out here because I understood they had a problem with bushwhackers hitting Salina, Mr. Jones. How is it you are out this way about the same time?”

  Leander grew serious as he addressed the group as a whole. “You’re right about bushwhackers in Salina. We missed them by a day. If they traveled west, they must have turned back when they saw our dust because we never saw them. Our scout said he saw no signs of them until we got past Salina. But, some of our men were mighty upset when we got to Salina and discovered the place had little in supplies, and, more to the point, no whiskey. The people there don’t have enough food to get them through the winter and not enough money to replace what was stolen. I promised to see what I could do about getting some bare necessities to them before our next big trip if they can come up with some cash or trade goods we can use.”

  Sidney cleared his throat. “Jefferson and I already decided that after the harvest, as long as we have enough for ourselves, we’ll take some of what’s extra into town. We don’t want our neighbors starving while we have plenty.”

  Jefferson turned his horse to return to his farm. “Let’s get you three and the horses all back home. We can talk about this later.”

  The group rode back towards the Jefferson Atwell farm, the men taking all the leads for the horses not being ridden. Kizzie had saddled Sugarcone and found herself at the end of the group with Leander Jones riding beside her. For some unexplained reason, Kizzie found herself tongue-tied. It was a struggle, but she finally managed to ask him about his trip.

  “We did well. There were a few times we were pretty sure the Cheyenne were following us so we bunched up and kept our guns ready. I think our outfit was big enough they realized if they attacked us they would have a serious fight on their hands. After all, freight wagons can be formed into a pretty sturdy fort.

  “We had good sales up Pike’s Peak way. Actually, the gold is starting to fizzle out there, so we sold what was left of our goods in Denver. We tried to pick up a few things, but it was early in the trade season. There were a few things from the Orient, but most were too expensive. Some of that stuff my father can get cheaper when it comes by ship around the horn and up the river.”

  Kizzie managed to smile and politely nod at appropriate times during his tale. The whole time she was focused on him and his piercing gray eyes that mesmerized her. The people of Salina may not have had much left after the bushwhackers, but evidently the small hotel still managed to provide bathing facilities. Leander was clean-shaven, although she could see the tan line that crossed his cheeks. His shirt, the same one he had worn the day she met him, was clean.

  Kizzie turned her head away with the realization that she was the one who was dirty and smelled rank. Why did the man always show up when she looked her worst?

  They weren’t far from Jefferson Atwell’s yard when Kizzie thought she saw something moving across the narrow pasture fronting the trees bordering the river. “Did you see anything over there?”

  Leander stretched to peer around Kizzie to the foliage skirting the river. “No. What do you think it was?”

  “Have no idea. Maybe I’m seeing things. We’ve been looking for bushwhackers behind every rock and twig for the last two days.”

  Awhile later, Jefferson and Otto left them at their farm, and the four continued over to the Palmers. Kizzie was grateful when she saw her grandpa come out to take charge of his horse. All she wanted to do was get home so she could get cleaned up and eat a hot meal prepared by her mother.

  The group lapsed into silence the last part of the trip. Although Kizzie kept her eyes forward, she felt her entire attention focused on the man next to her. This sensation was something new to her, and she wondered what it could mean.

  They finally reached the barn and dismounted. They walked the horses inside, removed the saddles and began to curry the horses. Not ready to put them in the barn for the night, the two Atwell horses were turned out into the corral while Thunder was led to a stall.

  Sidney turned to his children. “Jesse, make sure the horses have enough water, then come back and help me muck out these stalls. Kizzie, why don’t you go in the house to clean up and change, then see what you can do to help your mother. Mr. Jones will be staying for supper.”

  “Yes, Papa.” Kizzie knew she needed a full bath. However, washing up in her room and putting on her second-best dress would be an improvement over how she looked and smelled now. She hurried to the house and opened the door. The sight of the trio sitting at the kitchen table paralyzed her and froze her blood cold as ice.

  Chapter 8

  “Come in, little slut. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Kizzie stepped in and closed the door behind her. She pressed her back against the door and used it to help steady her as she studied the two sets of eyes trained on her. One pair, round with terror, belonged to her sister Meredith. The other pair reminded her of pig eyes as the grin on Tucker’s face caused them to squeeze to slits above his full cheeks. Kizzie struggled to breathe as she took in the sight of her sister clutched tight to the front of Tucker’s body while he sat in her father’s chair at the head of the table facing her, his one arm cinched around Meredith’s middle. His opposite hand held the point of a large Bowie knife to her sister’s throat.

  Kizzie’s mother sat on trestle bench to the side of him, her hands placed flat on the table. She offered Kizzie a quick glance before she turned her eyes back to her youngest.

  Kizzie shivered at the derision in Tucker’s voice. “So, we meet again, you little slut. Still trying to be a boy, are you? Don’t matter to me. I’ll get what I came for and it don’t matter how you’re dressed because you’re still the same underneath.”

  Mima’s shrill voice addressed Kizzie although her eyes never left Meredith. “What’s this all about, Kizzie? Why is he here?”

  “He tried to steal Sugarcone from me. Looks like he came after her.”

  Tucker’s grin spread even further. “And you, little slut. You ain’t getting away from me either. You’ll pay for this crease in my head and cutting my wrist.”

  Open-mouthed, Mima turned to stare at Kizzie. Kizzie gave a slight shake of her head. Her mother would have to wait fo
r a full explanation. If Kizzie lived through what was to come, that is.

  Her lungs heaving with fear, Kizzie cleared her throat in an effort to keep her voice from squeaking. “I’ll go with you. Leave my sister and mother here—you don’t want them. I’ll get my horse…”

  Just then Kizzie heard footsteps clatter onto the front porch. She braced her full weight against the door to keep whoever approached from entering.

  Jesse’s irritated voice penetrated the wood after a couple of attempts to open the door. “If that’s you, Kizzie, stop playing games. Let me in.”

  Kizzie knew she had to keep her brother out. She didn’t want him hurt, and at that moment he was her best chance of getting help. “You can’t come in, Jefferson. We’ve got unexpected visitors. Go to Uncle Palmer’s and tell Papa to hurry home.”

  “Kizzie, are you loco…”

  Yelling, Kizzie interrupted him, willing him to realize the reason her message made no sense was because those inside were in trouble. “Just do what I say, Jefferson. Go to Uncle Palmer’s. Go!” She felt a wave of relief as she heard him grumble his complaints as the sound of his footsteps leaving the porch echoed through the door.

  Kizzie’s eyes darted between Meredith and her mother, willing them to not say anything or question what she told Jesse.

  Suspicious, Tucker glared at her. “Why didn’t you let him in? What’re you up to?”

  Trembling, Kizzie’s lips quivered a second before she found her voice. “Nothing. You don’t need him. Just…just leave my family alone and I’ll go with you.”

  Mima’s strident voice cut the air. “Kizzie! No!”

  “Yes, Mama, I have to. It’s the only way.”

  With a smirk of satisfaction, Tucker nodded. “That’s a little more like it. Where are the others? I watched you and all the rest, including that uppity papa’s boy Jones, riding out this way after a couple men and horses peeled off towards a farmhouse. If one of them was your pa, I can’t feature him stopping at your uncle’s place and letting you ride home alone with Jones having only your brother to look out for you. Jones is out there, ain’t he? Now we’re safely out of Indian territory, when I finish with you, I plan to take care of him, too.”

  Kizzie licked her lips. “He rode on after he saw us home.”

  Tucker grunted with disgust. “I don’t think so. He’s randy for you, too, little slut. Besides, I didn’t hear no horse ride off towards the main trail.”

  Leander finished grooming and graining Thunder before he turned him loose in the far corral. He turned to join Sidney, stopping and turning back as his attention was caught by Thunder, sliding to a halt at the far side of the corral and calling in the direction of the river. He concern ratcheted up a notch as another horse hidden by the trees along the bank of the Smoky Hill just past the Atwell farm answered.

  Having a strange horse near the Atwell farm so soon after the bushwhacker scare put Leander on edge. Eyes narrowed with suspicion, Leander jogged towards the trees, his right hand hovering over the pistol on his hip. Hidden in deep foliage stood a horse in hobbles.

  As Leander crept close enough to get a good look at the horse, he stopped in his tracks and his heart jumped into his throat. He recognized the horse. It was the old nag Tucker kept tied to the back of his freight wagon for those times he decided to leave the train in search of more liquor or creature comforts. The Atwell family had escaped being accosted by the bushwhackers only to be threatened by someone far worse. Leander turned and ran back towards the barn.

  His chest heaving in an effort to suck air into his lungs, Leander ran into the barn in time to hear Jesse complain to his father. “I’m telling you, Pa, she refused…refused…to let me in the house. And then she started spouting nonsense like calling me Jefferson and telling me to go to Uncle Palmer’s to get you.” Jesse raised a fist and shook it in frustration. “I don’t care if she’s a girl and my sister. Sometimes I’d like to give her one of these.”

  Leander approached the pair. “You’re family is in danger. Jesse, your sister was trying to warn you, hoping you’d get help.”

  Full of doubt, Jesse squinted his eyes at Leander. “How do you figure that?”

  “Thunder called out to a horse hidden in the brush. I went to investigate. It belongs to a bottom-feeding low-life whose freight train traveled with ours, a man named Tucker. He came across your daughter when she rode for the fort. He must have followed me back here, hoping I’d lead him to her.” Leander could see from Sidney’s expression and the way his body swelled that the man was ready to explode. Leander stepped up until they stood face to face and cut the man off before he could speak. “Keep your head, Sidney Atwell. There’s no time for explanations now. We have to get to him before he hurts somebody. Is there a back way into the house?”

  As Leander’s words registered, it knocked the starch out of Sidney. Shaking his head in disbelief, he wordlessly ran to where the rifle boot now hung on the wall with the rest of the tack and pulled the weapon out.

  Jesse offered the answer Leander sought. “There’s no back door. But, there’s a window to the back bedroom that will be open this time of year. You can’t see it from the front room. Mama keeps cheesecloth over it to try to keep out the bugs and some of the dust.”

  Leander waved Sidney forward with his hand. “Let’s go, Mr. Atwell. Stay low and out of sight as much as possible. Show me that window.”

  Jesse called out as he went for the shotgun he had set inside the doorway to the barn. “I can show you.”

  Leander turned back to him. Jesse was on the cusp of becoming a man, but Leander didn’t want to put the boy in the line of fire. “Jesse, I need you to stay right here hidden in the barn with that shotgun handy. We’ll be where we can’t see the front door. If Tucker brings them out front, I need you to call out as loud as you can to warn us. If necessary, fire off a shot in the air.”

  Jesse grimaced with disappointment, but nodded his head.

  Leander led Sidney as they skirted the edge of the yard, staying behind anything that would help keep them hidden from the house. As they approached the side of the building, he motioned to Sidney to take the lead. Soon they were at the back window. Grateful the opening was fairly large and not too high off the ground, he knew he could easily crawl through. Keeping his voice low, Leander turned to Sidney. “Boost me up, then go around to any side windows to keep an eye on what they are doing. Fire if you have to. If Tucker is where you can get to him without endangering anyone else, don’t hesitate to shoot him—he’s deadly.”

  Kizzie wasn’t sure what Tucker meant by saying Leander was randy after her. She knew what the word meant, but Leander had never behaved in any manner except that of a friend and a gentleman. She realized right then was not the time to ponder what Tucker meant. She sucked in a deep breath. “You don’t need Mama or my sister. I’m who you want. Leave them here, and I’ll go out and get my horse and go with you.”

  “We’ll go. Only, I don’t think I’ll be leaving your little sis behind. First, I’ll bet you have that same knife in your boot you used to cut me last time. Take it out real slow and throw it over in the far corner. Do it now.”

  Kizzie exhaled with disappointment. That knife had been her last hope of surviving Tucker. But, as he yelled at her to get rid of it, she slowly reached to her boot and tossed it away as he had ordered.

  Tucker kept his voice deceptively calm as he told them what he wanted them to do next. “Now, little slut, you and your ma are going to slowly walk outside ahead of me. I’ll follow behind with the runt so I can keep an eye on the both of you. One wrong word or one false move, I slit her throat. Got it?”

  Ignoring her mama’s gasp of terror and Meredith’s whimper of fear, Kizzie’s eyes involuntarily widened as out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her papa peeking in the window of the living area, the barrel of his rifle poised within inches of his cheek. Her papa was there to help them, but one false move and poor Meredith would be lost to them. She knew she ha
d to keep Tucker focused on her. “No, no. You won’t have to do that. I-I’ll go ahead of you and get my horse and saddle her. Then we can go.”

  Tucker shook his head. “You ain’t going to have to saddle her because I ain’t taking you that far. We’ll all walk out of here and wait long enough for you to get that mare on a halter. Then we’ll go down by the river where I’ve got enough rope to tie up these two. After I’m done with you, I’ll take the horse and go. Just think, little slut, if you’d come with me before peaceable-like, I wouldn’t have come here bothering your family. See what you done by fighting me? Now both your sis and your ma are going to get it if you don’t do exactly what I tell you.” Tucker abruptly stood and barked an order that allowed for no argument. “Move it, both of you, or the girl gets it.”

  Peering through a crack between the boards of the barn, Jesse straightened as he watched first his mother and then Kizzie step out of the house. Next, the head of an ugly man built thick as an ox followed. Whatever he held in his hands was blocked by Kizzie’s body. Jesse wondered where Meredith was. Then Kizzie’s steps angled off to the side. Jesse’s eyes widened in panic as he saw the big stranger hold a large, sharp-tipped knife to his little sister’s throat.

  Jesse hesitated a few seconds as he wondered what he should do. He had been told to call out a warning if they came out front. But, with the knife to Meredith’s throat, a warning to his pa might be the death of her. Jesse stepped into the open doorway in the most threatening manner he could manage as he issued his demand. “What are you doing to my sister? Let her go.”

  Irritated at the presence of the boy, Tucker gripped Meredith to him more tightly and touched the tip of his knife to the soft skin of her neck just below her jaw. “I swear, I’ll cut her throat in a heartbeat. You should have listened to your sister and taken off for your uncle’s like she said.”