Shotgun Bride

by Lopp, Karen

  “What you want us to do?”

  “Go to town, search the hotel, anywhere Kathleen could be hiding.”

  “Why would she hide from you?”

  Mike patted his shirt. “Barker swore me in this morning. Hawkins showed me some Wanted posters describing Kathleen. She must have overheard our conversation and fled.”

  “What did she do?”

  “You name it. Robbery, suspicion of murder for two husbands, a long list.”

  “How old is she?” Juan’s surprised tone sent a spike of doubt through Mike’s mind.

  Eighteen or so, maybe younger.”

  Juan glared at him. “How in the hell did someone so young commit all those crimes? And never get caught? Or manage to be married twice already?”

  Mike swallowed. Juan had a good point. “I saw the posters with her face on them.”

  “Ain’t you ever seen a forgery?”

  Dread settled in his gut. “Who would go to that trouble?”

  “Who stands to win if Kathleen is hanged?”

  “Hawkins.” Juan flopped in a chair. “Or you.”

  “I would . . .”

  Juan slapped a hand on the table. “I ain’t accusing you. Just telling it like folks will see it.”

  Mike scrubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw.

  “Juan’s right, boss.” Hank tipped his chair back.

  “That leaves Hawkins. Think about it. He’s already hinted, rather strongly, that I don’t back out on marrying Sally.”

  “He just wants your ranch,” Hank said. “I know. But that gives him a reason to smear Kathleen’s name. Or get her thrown in jail. Or run out of town.” Mike rubbed his neck.

  “Yeah, but you still have to get rid of her before you can marry Sally.”

  Hank’s piercing blue eyes bored a hole in Mike’s skull. When Hank decided something was wrong, a herd of oxen couldn’t turn him around. By the accusatory tone of his voice, Hank must not approve of him wanting to annul this farce of a marriage. Farce? The shared kissed last night still stirred his pulse to a stampede. “I’m not running off to Santa Fe. I have to find her first.”

  Hank smiled. “Good.”

  Mike held up a hand. “But, I told Hawkins I wanted rid of Kathleen. Forgeries cost money. Why waste resources on a moot point?”

  Juan shrugged. “Maybe he already had them done. Takes time to get a good one.”

  “How would he know about Kathleen?”

  “Don’t know, boss.”

  Hank leaned his elbows on the table. “You said someone tried to kill you on the drive. Hawkins don’t want you dead. Has to be somebody else.”

  “Then who?” Mike clenched his fists. Kathleen stood to gain if he were killed. That made no sense. She kept running away from him. And that woman Barker found admitted Kathleen was the wrong girl. He slammed a fist on the table. “None of this makes sense.”

  “Come on, Hank, let’s go help the boss find his wife. Maybe she can cook better than you. And give us some answers.” Juan’s banter didn’t fool Mike. The man would give his all to help.

  From the shelter of the pinions, Mike skirted to the backside of the hotel and tied Blackie to a hitching post. Hank and Juan should already be around front. Soon as no one was in sight he ran to the backdoor of the hotel and slipped inside. Juan waited at the top of the stairs.

  He dangled a key under Mike’s nose. “How’d you get that?”

  “Now, boss, you promised to never ask about my past long as I stayed straight while working for you.”

  A small chuckled slipped out Mike’s mouth. “I did. Where’s Hank?”

  “Keeping watch.”

  Mike snatched the key. “Start knocking on doors. If no one answers, we go in.” He started on the left while Juan went to the right. A few doors cracked open at his knock but five were empty. A low whistle caught his attention and he glanced up.

  Juan waved him over. “Found her, boss.”

  Mike’s heart dropped at Juan’s terse tone. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s trussed up and gagged. Don’t seem to hear us.”

  Mike rushed inside. This was Hawkins’ room. Mike perched on the edge of the bed, one hand on her forehead. “She’s not hot, so no fever. I don’t understand why she’s out cold.” With a gentle shake, he tried to wake her. No response. “Kathleen.” Still nothing. “Go make sure the doc’s in. I’ll bring her to him.”

  Mike gathered Kathleen’s limp body in his arms and tried to breathe past the clump of nettles in his throat. He hurried down the dusty trail on the backside of the buildings, not caring if he was seen. Kathleen’s shallow breathing scared the hell out of him. But one thought kept piercing his mind. He had judged her wrong again.

  Juan waited for him with the door opened wide. “Doc’s in.”

  Mike carried Kathleen inside and eased her onto the cot.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “She won’t wake up.” Mike moved aside for the doctor and clenched and unclenched his fists. Hawkins had better be ready for the whopping of his life.

  “You give her anything?”

  “No, why?”

  “My best guess is she’s drugged. She have any laudanum with her?”

  “No.”

  “Pulse is strong and no fever. I’ll keep her under observation.”

  “That’s it?”

  Dr. Page glared at him. “Unless you can tell me what she took, yes.”

  “Sorry, Doc, I’m just worried.”

  “Let me see your leg.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Sit down, Baca.”

  Mike sighed. “You boys go on. I’ll stay here.”

  Hank winked. “Don’t give the doc too much trouble.”

  Juan and Hank clanked out. Mike trusted them to dig out any information they could. He sucked in a sharp breath when Dr. Page poked him with a needle.

  What was Kathleen doing in Hawkins’ room? Hawkins had already left town, so who’d tied her up? Was someone out to frame Hawkins, too?

  Chapter 15

  Kathleen clawed her way out of the dark mist surrounding her. Her head felt as if a horse had kicked it and a gritty dry desert filled her mouth. She tried to swallow, but her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth and she gagged. Something cool touched her forehead and a soothing, deep voice whispered unintelligible words in her ear.

  The swirling fog evaporated and she pried her eyelids up and blinked as bright light assaulted her. Pain burned in her shoulder and she felt as if a building had collapsed on her. Everywhere ached.

  “Welcome back, Kathleen.”

  She turned her head and stared up into dark eyes. When the face came into focus, she frowned. Cobwebs crisscrossed her mind. This wasn’t right. It was important that she remember something. Something about Mike. Something that scared her.

  Kathleen rubbed a hand across her eyes and massaged her temples. Oh yeah. Jail. She peeked between her fingers at the tarnished Silver Star pinned onto Mike’s shirt pocket.

  “Can I get you something?”

  Yes. How about take that blasted star off and let me go. “Water.”

  Mike propped her head up and held a glass to her lips. She sipped slowly and let the liquid wash away the dryness, her mind busy. She pushed the glass away and flopped back.

  “Where am I?” she asked.

  “At the doc’s.”

  She frowned. Think, Kathleen. Throw him off. “I don’t want to get on a ship. They terrify me.”

  “What?”

  “Please. Anything but that.”

  She bit her tongue to keep from laughing at the shock written all over Mike’s face. Good. Let him believe she was hallucinating.

  The bed creak
ed under his weight as Mike balanced on the edge. “You’re not going anywhere, I promise. You just close your eyes and rest. We’ll talk later.”

  Mike took the cloth from her brow and dipped it into water. He wrung the excess liquid out and replaced it.

  “Go on now, shut those eyes.”

  “But—”

  He laid a finger across her lips. “Shh. Everything will be fine. No ships, please?”

  She nodded.

  “Good, now I’m going to go find the doctor. Will you be all right?”

  Oh, yes, she’d be fine. Long as she wasn’t locked up for crimes she didn’t commit. Long as she could manage to escape while he was gone. Long as she could forget the tender kisses he showered on her last night. She clutched his sleeve. “Hurry back.”

  Mike smiled. “I will.”

  Soon as the door closed, Kathleen threw off the covers and pushed out of bed. Her knees buckled and she tumbled to the floor. A cold clammy sweat slicked her body. She inched herself up and teetered into the wall. Biting pain shot through her shoulder.

  She hugged the wall and step by slow step she gained the back door. Pausing for a breath she wiped sweat from her eyes and trudged on. She navigated the steps without falling on her face and with one hand on the rough wood of the building she slid one foot in front of the other until she reached the corner.

  She would never get away like this. She doubted she could climb onto a horse, much less hang on. She glanced up the alley. A couple of freight wagons blocked her view.

  Where could she hide? Under the porch? With painstaking care, she concentrated on making it down the alley. Then she crawled into the back wagon, eased under the tarp, and wormed her way into a semi-comfortable position.

  The sun beat down on the canvas tarp and soon she became drenched in sweat. Muffled voices accompanied by the crack of a whip and the wagons lurched forward. She was on her way. To where, she didn’t know. And didn’t care, long as she didn’t rot in some prison.

  Curled into a tight ball, Kathleen clamped her teeth tight against the welling nausea and spasms of pain racking her body with each bump in the rutted road. Tears spilled out her eyes and the hours wore on in a pain-filled haze. Sleep eluded her.

  Kathleen scrambled deeper into the supplies as a volley of shots rent the air. At the sickening splat of a bullet striking flesh and the agonized cry of a man, a shudder shook her. More cries filled the air, laced with shouts and muffled moans. Chills raced along her skin in spite of the breath-stealing heat.

  This couldn’t be happening. Did the entire world have a grudge against her? Was she destined to die a violent death? If so, maybe she should just give up now and get it over with. Trembles danced down her spine. Outlaws would enjoy finding her. Enjoy taking turns with her. Probably enjoy killing her.

  She closed her eyes. Mike, with his trusty gun and accurate aim, had no idea where she was. Bad decision on her part. Make that a deadly one. The brief gun battle ended abruptly. Unnerved at the occasional moan followed by a shot, Kathleen shook so hard she felt the stitches in her shoulder rip. Bleeding to death sounded better than what awaited her as soon as she was discovered. She didn’t try to staunch the flow of blood. Unconscious, she would never know what they did to her. Perhaps without the struggles and screams, the men would just put a bullet in her and ride off.

  After a few minutes of terse commands, the wagons started off again. Kathleen let out a silent breath and sagged in a heap. The unrelieved sweltering heat intensified as the wagons went higher and the occasional rock jostled her aching body till nothing but a fog of pain remained. A mixture of sweat and blood soaked her blouse.

  Kathleen unclenched her jaw when the unceasing jounce of the wagon stopped. How far they had traveled, she didn’t know. Weakness shrouded her as she struggled to breathe. Muted voices accompanied the flutter of the tarp. Fear tugged a noose around her neck and a waft of fresh air froze her. She shivered. Blinded by the sudden brightness, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Come on, Kathleen, give me your hand, and I’ll help you out.”

  That voice sounded familiar. Mike? She squinted up at him. How did he find her? The clarity of her situation crystallized. Jail, or rape and certain death? Amidst the pain and the choking fear, she found the strength to scramble to Mike.

  Mike hoisted her out of the wagon. “Run.” Her words came out in a strangled hiss at the searing pains shooting through her. Hoisted in front of Mike, she sagged against him.

  “Sorry to hold you gentlemen up.” He bent down. “What’d you say, honey?”

  “Run.”

  Mike spurred his horse straight for a cluster of aspens. The bouncing jarred her already roiling stomach. “Why?”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  Mike reined in and soon as his grip loosened she tumbled off the horse. A loud rip accompanied a curse from Mike. White-hot needles stabbed her shoulder as she tried to catch herself. Too sick to care she emptied her stomach. Shots whined through the branches and Kathleen collapsed on her side, cold sweat enveloped her. Cool hands rolled her to her back.

  “Are you hit?” Fear and anger filled the question Mike barked at her.

  Somehow she managed to move her tongue. “Leave me alone.”

  “We need to move.”

  “I can’t.”

  Mike snapped off a few shots. Kathleen sucked in a breath while he reloaded. Bitterness filled her mouth and fire burned in her throat. Mike gave a soft whistle and shortly reins tickled her nose. Next thing she knew she was tossed up on the saddle. Fingers twisted in the horse’s mane, Kathleen hung on while Mike mounted behind her. He tugged her tight to his chest and urged the horse into a run. Without his arm wrapped around her, she would not have been able to stay mounted.

  The exchange of shots continued and Kathleen fought the darkness creeping into her vision. This was not a convenient time to faint. She didn’t realize they’d stopped until firm hands lifted her from the saddle and eased her to the ground.

  “Any better?”

  Tears singed her eyes at the sight of that blasted star glaring at her from his left pocket. “Why can’t you just let me go? I didn’t commit any crimes.”

  A bullet struck nearby and rock fragments showered them.

  “Get under that outcropping.”

  Kathleen wedged under the sheltering rock and closed her eyes, confident in Mike’s ability to keep the outlaws away.

  Mike chambered a round in his rifle and took aim. He fired three shots at the charging outlaws. Three men toppled. An unnatural silence covered the woods. Mike flexed his fingers and swallowed the bile that always came after killing. The war had honed his talent for perfect aim but the sickness lingered. This time, though, a burning fury and bone-chilling worry accompanied the nausea.

  He glanced at Kathleen and crawled to her side. Her once white blouse was red and plastered to her thin frame. The bandage on her shoulder hung loose from the weight of blood soaking it. Her rosy lips were faded to near white and dark patches under her eyes stood out in stark contrast to her chalky complexion. “Kathleen?”

  “What?”

  Mike shook his head at her sharp tone. Dammit. Just once he’d like a ‘thank you’ for saving her cute little ass. “You can come out now.”

  “I’m not moving.”

  Weak and hoarse, she still managed to sass him. “I need to get you to town.”

  “So you can lock me up?”

  Mike scowled. “No.”

  “Then why do you have a badge on your shirt? For show?”

  Hell, he’d forgotten about that. Mike ripped the star off and threw it into the bushes. “There. Happy? Now come on, you need help.” He offered Kathleen a hand.

  She ignored it.

  “Who told you I wanted to arrest you?”


  “Mr. Hawkins.”

  He ground his teeth. “You believe a man who trussed you up and left you?”

  “I won’t fall for your lies anymore. I saw you holding cuffs and smoke coming out your ears.”

  Mike rocked back on his heels. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Swapping bullets with outlaws was easier than trying to figure out this woman. He whistled for Blackie.

  “Will you at least let me tend to your wound? It’s bleeding again. And I don’t want to wait around for more of those outlaws to find us.”

  “Don’t try to lure me out so you can drag me to town.”

  He sighed. “You’re being childish. Besides, if I wanted to take you in, there’s not a damn thing you could do to stop me.”

  “Oh, you horrible man.” She crossed her arms and winced.

  “Please, Kathleen.”

  Blackie trotted up and Mike retrieved the canteen. “I have water.”

  She licked her cracked lips, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and inched her way out. He crouched in front of her and held out the canteen. So, bribing her worked. He’d have to remember that.

  Kathleen’s hand trembled when she reached for the canteen. Mike caught it as the side slipped from her fingers. Worry wiped away his irritation. Her snappy tone disguised just how weak she was. He held the canteen to her mouth as she drank a generous amount.

  Mike dug a towel out of his saddlebag and ripped a strip off. Kathleen tensed while he re-bandaged the gash on her shoulder.

  “Do you remember who tied you up?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We found you bound and gagged on Hawkins’ bed.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Hank and Juan. They work for me. We couldn’t wake you. The doctor suspected you had been drugged.”

  Kathleen slapped a hand over her mouth and impossible as it seemed, she grew paler. Terror illuminated her eyes like a springtime lightning storm.