“Jealous, brother dear?” Amy whispered in his ear.
“No, I’m not,” he hissed. “I don’t want to see Edwina ruin her life by getting hitched to someone like him.”
“Will you be coming over for lunch?” she asked with a gloating smile, obviously well pleased with her morning’s work.
“No, I want to get back to the cabin.”
They were almost at Tom’s buggy when Josh veered away. “I’ll be off now. Morning Tom, Edwina.”
“Be seeing ya.” Tom clapped him on the back.
“Goodbye, Joshua,” Edwina said.
“I think we should ask the preacher over for afternoon tea, don’t you think so?” Amy tapped Eddy on the shoulder.
“Oh.” Her beautiful eyes widened. “That sounds, um, nice.”
Josh clamped on his hat and stalked off. Women! He was glad he had decided to remain a bachelor.
Eddy watched Joshua ride away, straight and tall in the saddle, his rigid back testament to his annoyance. Was he jealous? More likely it was as he said, he felt responsible for her welfare. Despair washed over her.
“That went off rather well.” Amy linked arms with Eddy as they strolled the last few yards to the buggy.
“Don’t overplay your hand, darlin’.”
“Oh Tom, I won’t, but did you see the expression on Josh’s face when the preacher clung to Eddy’s hand?”
“Yeah, he looked ready to spit nails.”
“Did you notice how white the preacher’s hands were?” Eddie grimaced. “They were ice cold and too soft for a man. I could never marry anyone like him.”
“I know, I wouldn’t expect you to, but Josh isn’t to know that. He was grinding his teeth, he always does when he’s angry. He doesn’t realize it, but I can read him like a book. Always could.” Amy laughed.
***
A few days after the episode at the church, Tom announced he would be going to a cattle sale. Having heard about prime dairy cows being auctioned off, he wanted to buy a few to improve his milk yield; this was too good an opportunity to miss out on.
“Of course, I wouldn’t go, darlin’ if I had to leave you on your own.”
With Eddy to keep Amy company, the women quickly persuaded him to go.
Eddy had been practicing her shooting with both the handgun and Pa’s rifle and felt confident of being able to protect both of them should anything untoward happen. Not that she expected to use her shooting skills any time soon. Even though it was a quiet, peaceful place, it still paid to be prepared. She also enjoyed shooting, it made her feel close to her Pa.
After lunch, Amy said, “I think we should take a drive over to Simon’s place, you haven’t met him yet. We can take a piece of left over apple pie with us. I’ll drive the buggy if you wouldn’t mind hitching the horse to it. Bending down is becoming a problem now.”
Eddy hitched up the buggy; Daisy the brown buggy horse was a docile creature so it didn’t take long.
“Be raining by tonight,” Amy predicted, as they set off.
By road, Simon’s house was nearly two miles away, while crossing through the paddocks on foot reduced the journey by more than half that distance. However, with Amy’s pregnancy, walking was not an option. The road was little more than a rutted track in some places but Amy drove slowly, thus avoiding the worst bumps. There was a sudden bend in the road about half a mile or so from Simon’s place.
“Simon’s cabin is over to your right.” Amy pointed. “Only a couple of hundred yards across the paddocks. Oh, looks like he has visitors.”
Eddy saw two horses and three men. A black man was mounted on one horse. She gasped in shock as one of the men threw a rope over the branch of a tree.
“Simon!” Amy screamed. “They’re going to hang him.” She whipped up the horse.
“No! No!” Eddy yelled. “We won’t make it in time. Pull the horse up. Pull it up.” She grabbed the reins and tugged on them with all her might. Daisy came to a sudden halt, and Eddy nearly toppled out. She grabbed up her rifle and jumped out of the buggy.
Racing across the paddock, she fired into the air as she did so. One man let out a bellow of rage, but they didn’t stop tightening the noose around Simon’s neck. The smaller man raised his hand to slap the horse and set it on its way.
Eddy’s heart pumped. Fear surged through her as she stopped and raised the rifle to her shoulder. “God, please help me.”
As the horse took off, so did Eddy’s bullet. It sliced the rope in two and Simon tumbled to the ground. With the noose still circling his neck, he lay in a convulsing heap. With rifle raised, she darted the last few yards.
Simon, a tall black man, staggered to his feet, shaking so much he could barely stand. Removing the noose, he rubbed at his neck with a trembling hand, and blinked his bulging eyes.
Cursing violently, the men lunged toward her, fists raised.
“Stop or I’ll shoot.” Her threat stopped them dead in their tracks.
“Sonofabitch. That nigger he done need hangin’,” the taller man growled.
By this time Amy had arrived on the scene. “You…you animals,” she screamed. “How dare you.”
“Nigger lovin’ bed faggot,” the taller man snarled.
They were heavily be-whiskered, filthy, and reeking of cheap whisky.
“I’ll get my husband to put the law on you.” Amy stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at them.
“No, Mistress Amy. No harm done, I don’t want trouble,” Simon beseeched. “As long as they leave now, we can forget this ever happened.”
“Yeah, come on Jeb, Pa’ll have our hides if he finds out.”
“Nigger lovin’ whores.” The man called Jeb seemed to be the drunker of the two, more vicious. “I oughta…”
“Don’t try anything, mister.” Eddy raised the rifle. “Get off this property and don’t come back.”
The men mounted and high tailed it down the track, soon lost in a cloud of dust.
Amy slumped against the wagon. Simon stumbled over and put his arm around her shoulders. He led them toward his cabin.
“I’m Eddy.” She tied the horse to the hitching rail before following Simon and Amy up the steps.
Simon sat Amy at his small wooden table, then limped over to the fireplace where a coffee pot dangled from a chain over the flames. “I’ll pour us some coffee.”
“No, I’ll do it,” Eddy insisted. Both Amy and Simon were distressed, and who wouldn’t be after such a terrible ordeal? “You look like you need to sit down.”
“Who were those men? Why were they trying to hang you?”
“They’re two of the Nesbitts, those loco folk from the canyon. Still think they’re in the deep south, and niggers need to be kept in their place; flogged or swinging from the end of a rope.” He slumped in a chair. “They followed me back from town. I thought I was a dead man.”
Eddy placed a mug of coffee into Amy’s shaking hands. She was as white as death, and her breathing was rapid.
“Who are the Nesbitts?” Eddy asked, trying to steady her fractured nerves.
“They’re a feral clan who live in a sealed off canyon a few miles from here. No-one has ever been in there, and they rarely show themselves. When they do, it’s only the men.” Amy shivered. “They’re all half mad from years of inbreeding and drinking rot-gut whisky.”
“They were so filthy.” Eddy shuddered. “And the stench.”
“Evil people, Miss Eddy.” Simon appeared to be recovering from his awful ordeal.
Eddy was horrified by such a shocking display. Had they been a couple of minutes later, or her aim hadn’t been true, Simon would be dead.
“Tom told me about you, Miss.” Simon took a gulp of coffee. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you ladies anything to eat.”
Simon was a tall, thin man, slightly stooped, and he walked with an uneven gait, obviously a legacy from the broken ankle Joshua had mentioned. His voice was soft, educated.
Amy took a deep breath, as if willing hersel
f to recover.
“Not very smart letting those varmints get the jump on me, Mistress Amy. I put you both in danger. I’m sorry.” He held his head in his hands. “I thought they wanted to order more barrels. I never should have told them at the livery stable to send people here if they sold out. Usually, according to Jo at the livery, it’s old man Nesbitt who buys them, not his liquored up sons.”
“Still, it must have been him who brought them up with such hatred,” Amy said, her color returning. Her eyes flashed, and Eddy was pleased to see her skin lose its sickly pallor. “Those creatures wouldn’t have been old enough to have fought in the war.”
“The old man hates niggers, but he knows these barrels I have are good ones. He’s been distilling special corn whiskey that he’s aging for six months, and needs clean, used oak barrels. And this load I got is perfect for him, cheap, and close to home. He mainly peddles his rot-gut but, he’s also been doing better quality stuff. He’s planning to turn his moonshine making into a legitimate business. New York people are prepared to pay a premium for real southern whiskey.” Simon’s lips curled in distaste.
“They wouldn’t want to wash their boots with it, if they saw the filthy creatures making it,” Amy said caustically, having regained her usual vibrancy. “Eddy, we forgot the apple pie, that’s what brought us here.”
“It’s probably squashed or broken into a dozen pieces, but I’ll fetch it.” Simon had virtually been saved by an apple pie. Eddy bit back a hysterical laugh, and hurried to the buggy to retrieve it. It had slipped off the plate, but the cloth had remained tightly wrapped around. Carefully lifting it up, she pushed it back onto the plate and carried it inside.
“Well, here it is,” she said from the doorway of the sparsely furnished, but neat cabin. “I think it’s only a little squashed.” With a flourish, she placed it on the small scrubbed pine table and whipped off the cloth. A crack ran down the middle of the pastry, and some edges were broken off, otherwise it was intact.
“Where did you learn shooting like that, Miss Eddy?” Simon asked between mouthfuls of pie.
“Pa was a Union Army sharpshooter. Said I was born with a good eye.”
“I’ve never seen anyone shoot as well as you,” Amy chimed in, brushing crumbs off her gown. “She’s been practicing at our place, Tom set up a target board for her.”
“It sure paid off today,” Simon said. “I thought I was a dead man.” A shudder racked his body.
“Do you think they’ll return?” Amy asked. “You mightn’t be safe here on your own.”
“I’ll be safe if I’m careful, and from now on I aim to be very careful. I’m going to take the barrels I got left to the livery and sell them there, even if I have to pay them a percentage.”
They departed after an hour or so. Eddy drove, as Amy looked pale and troubled again.
“You have to rest when we get home,” Eddy told her. “An expectant mother, especially when it’s nearly time for her to be delivered, shouldn’t be subjected to such a shock.”
“I’ll be all right, I have dinner to prepare.”
“I’ll do it.” Eddy was adamant. It was the least she could do for her friend.
Danger lurked in the wilds, she knew that, but in a quiet little place like this, she couldn’t believe such a dreadful thing could happen. Maybe they should go to the law and report it, but what good would it do? Those creatures were holed up in some secret place, and it would probably take an army to smoke them out.
Amy refused to go to bed, but agreed to lie on the couch and rest. Obviously, she was more distressed than she was prepared to admit.
At six o’clock, Eddy heard Tom stomping on the porch removing the mud from his boots. He strode inside, coming to a sudden halt on seeing Amy lying on the couch.
“Darlin’ are you all right?” Worry contorted his face.
“Yes. I just had a shock.” Amy smiled at her husband. “Luckily Eddy was there to save us.”
“Those evil varmints,” he raged. “Simon told me what happened when he came to help me milk. “I’ve a good mind to gather up a few men, and see if we can track them down, and have our own neck-tie party.”
“I’m all right,” Amy repeated. “Simon said we should forget about it, but be more wary from now on.”
“Forget about it! Be more wary!” Tom snarled. “I’ll put a bullet in them if they set foot on my property. I warned Simon about those barrels. Asking for trouble selling them from his place. It was a dang fool thing to do.”
“Tom, please, I want to forget about it,” Amy said. “Eddy kindly cooked dinner for us.”
Tom swung around to face Eddy. “Thank you for what you did today.”
“It was nothing.”
“Nothing! Simon said it was the best bit of shooting he ever saw.”
“A lucky shot.” Eddy was secretly pleased at the praise. Pa would have been proud of her.
“How was the sale?” Amy asked.
“Good, I bought four excellent breeding cows. They should arrive in a couple of weeks.”
Chapter Seven
Life settled back to normal. No sign of Joshua. Eddy tried to tell herself she didn’t care, but she did. Her heart ached, but there was nothing she could do about it. You can’t force someone to love you. You’re a fool, for caring so much.
Amy quickly recovered from her shock and distress, and even though she waddled rather than walked, was back plotting and planning to get Joshua jealous.
Her latest idea was a small ‘getting to know Eddy’ gathering one Sunday afternoon. This was quickly postponed, when the Cavendish family, who were neighbors, invited them to a pre-Thanksgiving shindig in their barn.
“Perfect,” Amy gloated. “There will be so many young, single men in attendance, you will have to fight them off with a stick.”
“You are incorrigible.” Eddy laughed.
“You still want Josh, don’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
“No buts. You want him, you fight for him. Josh hates being beaten at anything, always did.”
“I’m not a fairground prize.” Eddy couldn’t hide her indignation. She wasn’t that desperate.
“No, you certainly aren’t, you’re much more. He realizes that, but is too stubborn to admit he cares for you; he does, I’m sure of it.”
“You can’t make him love me if he doesn’t want to.”
“Of course he loves you, only needs a little competition for him to realize how much you do mean to him, and to get him to admit it.” Amy’s eyes gleamed. “He was enraged when Tom told him what happened at Simon’s. He wanted to ride out and search for the Nesbitts until he found them. I swear, Tom said he was set to kill them. Savage as a meat axe he was.”
“That was because of you and Simon, not me.”
***
Josh tied his horse to the hitching post in front of the Cavendish homestead. Light spilling from the barn bathed the garden in a flickering, mellow light. He felt anything but mellow. All those young bucks gawking and drooling over Edwina. Dang, they had no right. He knew what would be going on in their lecherous minds. Pretty young woman were scarce out here, and she was more than pretty, she was exquisite.
The thought of another man touching her beautiful hair, seeing her as he had done, next to naked in the firelight in the cabin, was like being boiled in hot oil. Making love to her? He almost buckled at the knees. Pain knifed into his gut until it became so unbearable he groaned out loud. As for those Nesbitts, they wouldn’t live if they ever made the mistake of crossing his path.
He strode into the barn, shoving his gloves into his pocket, hanging his coat and hat next to a dozen or more others. The barn was enclosed, and roaring fires burned in a huge fireplace at each end.
Old Henry Jackson played the fiddle, and the barn floor was crowded. Edwina, her magnificent hair hanging in curls down her back, was dancing a polka with the Bank Manager’s son, Geoffrey.
What a graceful dancer she was. He would bet his last dollar
that the green dress she wore would enhance her lovely eyes. He seethed as Geoffrey held her close. Young whippersnapper was obviously home from university for Thanksgiving. He was grinning like a weasel in a hen house, and intent on having fun. Not with my Edwina, he isn’t. Whoa, when did she become yours?
Damn Amy. She had caused all this trouble with that stupid advertisement of hers. Hadn’t he decided to remain single? Hadn’t he just got his life in order, doing what he wanted, when he wanted? He didn’t need a woman. When his masculine urges became too strong, he could buy any loving he needed from the local saloon. What really stuck in his craw was the fact that since meeting Edwina, he had felt no desire to visit any of those women.
Hell’s bells, Geoffrey had left the floor, now Edwina was dancing with one of the Cavendish boys. Josh gritted his teeth. Why should he care who she danced with? What she did? Deep down he admitted he did care. He cared a lot. More than he should. Sonofabitch. He cursed the day he ever went to Hartford to meet the coach.
Amy waddled up to him, clinging to the besotted Tom’s arm. “Hello, Josh, I didn’t expect to see you at this shindig.”
“Oh yeah,” he muttered.
“Howdy.” Tom clapped him on the shoulder.
“Howdy yourself.” Josh tried to keep his voice civil. Tom was becoming as meddling and interfering as Amy. Marriage and impending fatherhood appealed to him, but it didn’t mean every man wanted to get hitched. Amy was glowing though, and he had never seen her look happier.
What would Edwina look like pregnant with his child? He felt a deep ache in the region of his heart, because it could never be. What would she look like pregnant with another man’s baby? Shock squeezed the air out of his lungs, and he gasped for breath.
“Are you all right?” Amy clutched at his arm.
“Y…Yes. Why?” He forced himself to breathe normally.
“You went all pale and strange looking.”
“Imagination. I’m going for a drink, like one?”
“No thank you. Oh, look at Eddy, she’s having such a wonderful time.”
Edwina: Bride of Connecticut (American Mail-Order Brides 5) Page 7