by Jodi Thomas
“But what if you run into the rustlers? What then, Mary? You said there were three. You don’t even have a weapon.”
Her brother knew her for the coward she was. Afraid of the dark. Afraid of the sound of spurs. Afraid of almost every man in the state. What did she think she could do against three men?
“Come back with me,” Miles asked again.
“No,” she answered. “I have to try.”
Even in the darkness she could see it in his eyes. He would no longer play the parent role in her life, she would never again be the child. “All right.” He moved toward her. “Then I’ll stay also.”
Mary knew they were still no match for three armed men, but she was glad Miles stayed.
“Evenin’,” came a low voice from the shadows. Spurs jingled as a man stepped into the faint light coming from the barn door. “So, we meet again.”
It had been almost a year, but Mary knew the stranger’s voice. She’d heard it last in the darkness of the store.
She couldn’t breathe as the man moved closer. The feel of his hands gripping her arms, his hot words shouted in her face, the smell of whiskey, all flooded her mind. He had been so polite, so nice that afternoon, but in the shadows, anger twisted his words.
“Adams will be back in a few minutes with his men,” Miles threatened as he stepped in front of Mary. “You had better be gone before he returns.”
The intruder pulled a long Bowie knife from his boot. “Don’t try to fool me, Yank. He won’t return for hours. He and every man for miles around will be chasing shadows tonight.”
“I’ll not let you take the colt.” Miles stood his ground.
The man laughed. “How do you plan to stop me? If you had a gun it would already be pointing in my direction and you’d be no match for me with a knife even if you had one.”
“Kill them and be done with it, Len.” A man on horseback rode out of the blackness. “We ain’t got all night.” His gruff voice rattled across the damp air.
Mary recognized him as one she’d heard earlier during the dance. The planner.
“Now, wait a minute, boss. You don’t know who we’re dealing with. This Yank won’t fight. It ain’t no fun killing a man who won’t fight back.” Len moved a step closer and pointed with his knife. “But the woman, she screams and fights like crazy. I’ll have to slit her throat, before I let the Yank die a little at a time.”
“Do what you have to do,” the leader said calmly as if they were of no importance to him. “The kid backed out on us. I’ll need your help rounding up the colt. Get rid of the witnesses.”
Chapter Thirteen
COOPER YELLED ORDERS for his men to guard the herd and let the others worry about chasing rustlers as he turned the midnight mare toward home.
“But, boss?” a ranch hand yelled over the thunder of hooves. “Don’t you want in on the ride? They couldn’t outrun us.”
Cooper didn’t bother answering. Three times the men required to round up a half dozen rustlers were riding north at full speed. The county marshal took the lead, much more at home than he’d been on the dance floor. Cooper wasn’t needed in Echo Canyon. Something about the call to arms gnawed at him. Why would men try to steal a herd the night before a drive began when every able-bodied cowhand was camped out, waiting to get started, or at the dance a few miles away? And if they’d moved that many cattle, why hadn’t someone heard? Cooper might have been occupied, but Duly had maintained a residence on the porch all night. The old cook could smell rain before a cloud formed. Cooper couldn’t remember the number of times he’d seen Duly start thinning the gravy before anyone else even heard riders arriving for supper.
Pushing his horse harder toward home, Cooper tried to make the pieces fit.
Mary’s last words haunted him. She’d said his future was in danger. Even if the cattle he put into the drive were stolen, the ranch would stand the loss. Didn’t she understand that he was solid enough to survive?
He figured the cattle, even the Steeldust colt, could disappear and they’d still make it as long as she was by his side. He had to tell her that his need for her was more than an ache deep inside. He’d built the ranch for nothing if he didn’t have her to share it with. These past years he’d worked thinking he would be happy, when all he needed was to find her.
She must know that she was his future. The last few minutes they’d been together before the shouting started had left no doubt how he felt. She was his future, the only future he wanted. Why would she think she was in danger? Mary would be safe with his sisters and the other women.
Cooper didn’t slow until he spotted the house. The pale moon offered him little help as he neared. He heard women’s voices braided with laughter. He breathed for the first time since he’d turned the mare around.
Whatever frightened Mary had been only in her mind. He’d have to learn that about her if he planned to cherish her for the next fifty or so years. She was gentle and kind and intelligent, but not brave. He would be brave enough for them both.
Cooper grinned as he stepped onto the porch. If he’d wanted brave, bossy, and absentminded he would have looked for a woman like one of his sisters. But he wanted Mary, who needed him to take care of her and protect her and love her.
As he walked into the house his gaze searched for her. From now on he’d find her here when he got home, he thought. She’d be the one who had supper ready, who waited for him, who bore his children, who completed his life.
His house was, at present, full of every size and age of woman. They circled in small groups, busy visiting. Mary wasn’t among them.
Johanna walked by with a plate of rock-hard cookies made by one of the Williams girls. “Forget something?” she asked when he refused her offer.
“Still trying to pawn off those cookies?” Cooper barely glanced at her as he continued searching the room.
“I have to. I don’t want to hurt poor Janice’s feelings. Having to take a full plate home, when most of the other desserts are gone, would injure her. It is my duty as hostess.”
Cooper had no time for Johanna’s endless social considerations. “Have you seen Mary?”
“No,” she answered as she slipped a few cookies into his jacket pocket. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “They won’t crumble.”
“Did she leave?”
“Who?”
“Mary.”
“I don’t know. Winnie asked me a few minutes ago about Miles. Maybe they went home, though I’d think they would have at least said good-bye. A simple ‘Thank you for the invitation’ would have been appropriate.”
Cooper moved through the crowd, leaving Johanna talking. When he spotted Winnie, he mouthed one word. “Mary?”
Winnie shook her head and followed as he hurried out the kitchen door.
The old buggy Miles had managed to get to the dance was still pulled up beside the barn.
Cooper moved faster. He felt it now. Something was wrong. Mary hadn’t been simply frightened. She’d tried to warn him. But of what? No one would bother the women. The men were well armed. All seemed secure, but suddenly fear chewed its way through Cooper’s insides.
“Something’s wrong,” Winnie whispered, her breathing coming out in a low whistle. “I haven’t seen Miles since the other men left.”
They circled the house and headed toward the barn. At the sound of Mary’s voice just beyond the corral opening, Cooper froze.
Winnie slammed into his back, almost knocking him to the ground. He steadied himself and motioned for her to be quiet, though he found it hard to believe those ahead of them in the blackness couldn’t hear Winnie’s breathing. She’d run so hard, she sounded like a teakettle at full steam.
“What . . . is . . . it?” she said as she swallowed great gulps of air.
But Cooper wasn’t there to answer her question. He’d already crossed the blackness and stood by the corral, his gun drawn. He could make out three figures circled by a lantern’s low glow.
Miles’s voice s
ounded deadly earnest. “I’ll not allow you to harm my sister.”
“And what are you going to do?” the man with his back to Cooper asked. “Kill me?”
“If I have to. I’ve killed men before.”
Cooper watched as Miles stepped away from Mary and toward the man holding a huge knife. Mary backed into the shadows, her dark clothes blending her from sight.
“You see,” Miles sounded almost as if he were giving a lecture, “it’s not all that hard to kill a man. Sometimes, in life, the true challenge is trying not to end a life.” He continued moving toward the knife pointed at his gut. “Sometimes you have to weigh one life against another.”
Still several feet away, Cooper pointed his weapon to the center of the stranger’s back. If the armed man lunged toward Miles or Mary he’d be dead before he could do any damage with the knife. Cooper wished he were closer and could whisper to Mary that all was under control, but he wasn’t even sure where she was in the shadows.
“Don’t move,” a raspy voice whispered from just behind him as Cooper felt the barrel of a gun press against his side. “Let’s just watch this play out without interrupting Len. I’ve heard he’s an artist of sorts at his craft.”
Cooper didn’t take his eyes off the man with the knife. He didn’t need to see the stranger behind him. Cooper’s plan hadn’t changed. He would fire if the knife moved and take his chances with whoever stood behind him.
A slight whistling sound rushed across the darkness. Len turned his head, listening.
Without any hint or warning, Miles jumped toward the knife. The blade sliced across his coat sleeve before he knocked it from Len’s hand with expert ease. They struggled, but Len only fought when armed and wasn’t prepared for the force of Miles’s attack. Len’s mistake was in fighting to retrieve the knife and not defending himself. The seasoned Yank won out, pinning Len to the ground.
Winnie rushed up, yelling, “He won’t hit you. Miles swore he never would, even though he had special training in the war.” She leaned down, only a few inches from the stranger’s face. “But I didn’t promise anything.” She doubled up her fist and slammed it into Len’s eye. “How dare you try to hurt folks!” Another punch pounded his nose. “Don’t you know better than to threaten people with a knife!” She hit him again. “You could have killed the man I’m going to marry.”
Winnie paused in midstrike and turned to Miles. “Are you all right, dear?”
Miles laughed. “I’m fine. The blade only sliced my jacket.”
Winnie turned back to the stranger and let another blow fly. “That’s his good suit!” she yelled. “You should be more careful.”
Len spit blood, struggled, and cried for help all at the same time, but Miles’s good knee pinned him down.
Cooper would have joined the laughter, but a gun still dug into his side and he could sense frustration.
“Tell them to stop,” the raspy voice whispered, suddenly angry. “Or you’re a dead man, Adams.”
Cooper didn’t move. Like Miles, he’d been in enough battles to know to wait for just the right moment for action.
Mary’s frightened voice came from somewhere behind Cooper. “Lower the gun, mister.”
Cooper felt the man hesitate. “You won’t use that knife, little lady. Just because you may have found Len’s blade don’t make you killer enough to use it.”
“Are you willing to bet your life on that?” Mary’s voice shook.
When the stranger twisted to see Mary, he offered Cooper the chance he’d been waiting for. He swung around and flattened the man with one blow. The gun that had been digging into his ribs fired harmlessly into the night sky, bringing women and lanterns from the house.
Cooper straightened and turned in time to catch Mary flying into his arms. He held her against his heart. “It’s all right, darlin’. It’s over.” He felt her body trembling. “You may have saved my life, you know.”
He slid his hand along her arm, wanting to calm her. “That was very brave of you holding a knife on a man.”
As the handle to her weapon fell into his hand, she stammered, “It wasn’t a knife, it’s a pie server. Johanna insisted I carry it.”
Cooper laughed and held her close. His timid little Mary was far braver than he’d given her credit for being. “Don’t tell Johanna what you used it for.”
“Oh, no. I’m not that brave.” Mary giggled in his ear.
Miles hauled Len onto the porch while Cooper half carried the other man. Within a few minutes they were tied up and waiting delivery when the county marshal returned. Winnie continued to pound on Len until Miles gently pulled her away, swearing he planned never to make her angry.
Despite all the women gathering around asking questions, Cooper managed to find Mary. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground, kissing her soundly. When he finally straightened and faced the crowd, Miles was staring at him. For a moment, Cooper wasn’t sure what might happen, for he remembered Miles’s warning to stay away from Mary. Then the Yank smiled and Cooper knew there would be no more battles to fight tonight.
Johanna’s voice rose above all the noise. “A thank-you would be enough, Cooper. Or of course, since she may have saved your life, a handshake might be proper.”
He pulled an inch away and stared down at the face of the woman he would love for the rest of his life. “You didn’t answer my question, Mary. Will you marry me?”
“More,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his.
She didn’t have to ask twice. He’d propose again later; right now he had a promise to keep.
Read on for a preview of the next historical romance novel in Jodi Thomas’s Whispering Mountain series
PROMISE ME TEXAS
Available November 2013 from Berkley!
CHAPTER 1
January 1879
North Texas
THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN RATTLED THROUGH WINTER’S darkness, ignoring the howling January wind. Sliding low on the dusty last passenger bench, Beth McMurray tried to control her breathing. Anger and fear blended in her blood, freezing any movement. Evil traveled with her tonight, an evil she’d been about to marry.
“One harebrained scheme too many.” She almost said her old housekeeper’s warning aloud. “One too many and you’ll be trapped, Bethie, and there will be no one to get you out of the trouble you go running toward.”
The old woman had been right.
Only now wasn’t the time for regrets: Beth had to think. She had to plan. But first, she needed to make herself as invisible as possible to the men at the other end of the passenger car. Her future depended on it. In her black slouch hat and weathered rain duster, she’d hoped to pass for a man sleeping his way to Dallas. If no one came too near, or looked too closely, she might get away with it.
Her plan had seemed simple when she’d read Lamont’s telegram asking her to sneak away from the ranch and meet him for a secret wedding in Dallas before they went to Whispering Mountain for a big wedding in the spring.
The getting away proved no problem. Everyone on the ranch was busy. Beth simply left a note saying she was meeting Lamont and friends in Dallas for a week. She explained that she was taking Brandy Blue, her favorite horse, so she and her fiancé, Senator Lamont LaCroix, and his friends could ride back home with her for a winter visit on a Texas ranch. At twenty-four, no one would question her or expect her to do anything improper.
One of the old Texas Rangers who’d retired on the ranch offered to ride along with her for a while.
Only, a harebrained idea worked its way into her mind as she packed. She thought it would be fun to ride northeast and meet Lamont’s train at the station stop before Dallas. Then, as they traveled together toward their secret wedding, they would have time to talk about their future.
But from the journey’s beginning, not all went smoothly. She hadn’t fooled the conductor when she’d boarded at the train’s last stop before reaching Dallas. He’d known she was a woman even in her trousers and
slicker. When she’d handed him her ticket, she explained and he agreed to go along with her plan to surprise her bridegroom, who she said was on the train.
The train was moving by the time she found Lamont surrounded by army officers. Beth had decided to sit back and listen for a while. In a way, she got her wish; she learned a great deal about Lamont as the train traveled through the night. Only, it was all bad. She’d promised herself to a fool.
Four hours ago she’d expected to be planning her wedding tonight, but not now. As she stared at the tall man drinking at the other end of the car, Beth wondered why she’d ever thought of him as handsome. From a distance, he looked striking in his tailored black suit and gray wool coat. She could almost see him coffin-boxed and her wearing black instead of the white dress she’d carried with her to change into.
Lamont LaCroix, the man she’d fallen in love with when she was seventeen and wide-eyed, was holding court in the middle of a half dozen young army officers. Since sunset she’d learned more than she ever wanted to know about her fiancé. More than he’d told her in the twenty letters he’d written over the past seven years. She’d learned that he was worse than the carpetbaggers who’d invaded Texas after the war. The northern accent she’d barely noticed when they’d met now grated on her nerves.
At first, his letters had been friendly, as though keeping his young acquaintance up on Washington politics. As the years passed, he talked of his dreams of power and she encouraged him. Two years ago he spoke of needing her, of wanting her by his side. She hadn’t bothered to think of all he didn’t say. He’d fooled her completely, reeling her in.
No, she corrected. She’d fallen for his lies because she wanted them to be true. She’d wanted to be the important wife of a senator, to live in Washington, D.C., all winter and go to parties. Now, listening to him brag, Beth knew that she was an idiot. No man in Texas had ever measured up to this congressman and his letters. She’d wanted him to be real so desperately that she hadn’t even heeded her father’s warning. She’d jumped when she should have hesitated.