Sophie's Daughters Trilogy

by Mary Connealy

  Deciding not to give the kid time to think, Tom hollered, “Let’s get home.” He spooked his stallion—that wasn’t hard, the feisty animal was always ready to bolt—and the horse took off running.

  Which suited Tom just fine.

  Mandy was dizzy from the changes of the last days. That’s the only excuse she could possibly give for what she was about to do.

  Condemn Tom Linscott to death.

  Herself, too, certainly. But she’d known that ever since she’d stepped foot through that gap.

  If it was just her, she’d take her chances, rely on her speed and toughness and live as she pleased away from that fortress. But her children, Tom, Luther, all the people who’d side with her would be at risk. And yes they were tough. They wouldn’t die as easily as Sidney. But a bullet could cut someone down from cover, and that was the Cooters’ way. That’s how they’d wounded Luther.

  The Cooters were a pack of treacherous, back-shooting coyotes. Would they really kill children? The first Cooter was killed shortly after they’d started posting a guard over the gap to their home. The Cooters had tried to rush the gap, apparently believing they’d find gold or the information they needed to go on a treasure hunt. There’d been a gunfight. Sidney’s guard had held the Cooters off and managed to kill one of them. Shortly after, they’d gotten word that the death of a Cooter began a blood feud and the Gray family had to die.

  But children? Toddlers? What kind of animals were these people? Deep in her heart of hearts, Mandy could not believe these villains really intended to kill children. In fact, she thought they weren’t all that bound and determined to kill a woman. That explained why they’d left her alone, as long as she stayed in her fortress.

  But now she was out. And she was on the verge of getting married. Whatever scruples the Cooters had, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill Tom. And yes, Tom was tough, and he had a salty bunch of cowhands. But the Cooters just kept coming and coming. There was no end.

  The dread of what she was bringing about by marrying Tom twisted in her gut. The honest, soul-deep desire to be married to him lured her, enticed her … caused her to be willing to risk his very life. The longing for him and the terror for him combined to leave her frozen with indecision.

  Not so Tom. He was the king of decision making.

  He rode into what must be his ranch yard, swung down from the saddle with her still in his arms, and tossed his reins to Mark. “I want half of you men to ride out and check the herds and be on the lookout for trouble.” Tom strode straight toward Wade Sawyer.

  She’d never heard of the man before, nor seen him, but she’d learned his name when Tom had sent him for the preacher. Wade was another man who would most likely be at risk if he worked here for Tom. Mark, too, might die, and his cousin Charlie. Maybe the blond woman.

  Mandy reached to push Tom’s arms away so he’d set her down. Before she could get loose, she noticed a redheaded man holding a Bible in one hand and a baby in the other standing next to Wade.

  Tom’s cowhands rode out in small groups of two or three, in different directions, while Tom carried her around like a parcel.

  Beside the redheaded man stood a pretty, dark-haired young woman, not much older than Mandy, with children of a similar age. There was an older girl with braided hair that hung over her shoulder and dropped nearly to her waist. A little boy with out-of-control red curls clung to the young mother’s skirts and looked like the image of the Bible-toting man, who held a carrot-topped infant.

  Without setting Mandy down, Tom paced straight toward Wade and the others. He stopped a few feet ahead of them. “We’re getting married, Red. Let’s get on with it.”

  “Let me go.” Mandy felt herself blush, and she was tempted to take a swipe at Tom, but the parson was watching.

  “Are you going to put that rifle down for our wedding?” He ignored her order to release her.

  “No.” Narrowing her eyes, Mandy dared him to disarm her.

  “How about for our wedding night? Will you take it off then?” Tom’s eyes held heat that had nothing to do with temper.

  Mandy found herself totally disarmed. Literally.

  Because while she was bemused by Tom’s statement, her gun—and her gumption to resist him—both vanished.

  He extended her rifle to the blond woman who’d been holding Catherine for so long. The woman—Abby—Tom’s sister—Mandy was losing track of everything—swung down off her horse with Catherine tucked comfortably on her hip. Abby grabbed the Winchester and tucked it into the boot of her saddle, then came to stand beside Tom.

  Like she was the best man?

  For some reason that made Mandy fall a little in love with her possibly unless-she-could-get-control-of-her-life-right-this-minute sister-in-law. Mandy had missed her sisters something fierce.

  Wade stepped close and lifted Jarrod off Tom’s back and stood beside his wife. Another witness for the groom.

  As always, Mandy had no one. She glanced at Mark, who came up beside her holding Angela. Which made Mark Reeves her … bridesmaid?

  With a jolt, Mandy realized she had no children in her arms. In fact, someone else had cared for her children for hours. Something that hadn’t happened in a year. She’d been all her babies had, day and night, for everything. Food, clothes, safety, teaching—everything they had came from her hand or it didn’t come.

  The Shoshone had helped. They’d brought in food on occasion from a good hunt. But they left it quietly, often without Mandy seeing them, sometimes with a few words in broken English about rumors that had reached their ears about the Cooters.

  Mandy was fairly certain her children didn’t even know there’d been any other adults in the world.

  “I’m Red Dawson.” The preacher touched the brim of his Stetson. “I’m the preacher in Divide.”

  Mandy wanted to gather her children into her arms and run. She held off for just a few seconds thinking God might not approve of her being blatantly rude to a parson. “I’m Mandy Gray.”

  “Not for long.” Tom took her arm and faced Red. “Let’s get on with the ceremony.”

  “You’ll be killed.” Mandy tugged on her arm, but Tom had her well and truly caught.

  “He’ll be killed if he marries you?” Red narrowed his eyes.

  “I’ll be fine.” Tom nodded at Red. “Let’s go.”

  “Tom, there’s no rush.” Red sounded reasonable. Like a really nice man of God. Like a strong, wise friend. Mandy liked the looks of his wife, too. “If Mandy doesn’t want to get married, I’m not going to perform the ceremony. We need to be certain of God’s will in something this important.”

  “God wants us married. Mandy’s got her doubts, but God doesn’t.”

  “Listen, you big—”

  Tom bent down and kissed her.

  From Abby Sawyer’s arms, Catherine yelled, “Papa.”

  Giggling, Angela reached from Mark’s arms for Tom. “Papa kissing Mama.”

  Jarrod, bouncing in Wade Sawyer’s arms, waved his hands, giggled, and yelled, “Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa!”

  The kiss ended, and Mandy had forgotten what they were talking about. And where she was. And she wasn’t all that sure of her name and if it was winter or summer. And for a second even she wasn’t all that sure Tom Linscott wasn’t her children’s papa.

  Vaguely, she did notice that Red’s brows had arched almost to his hairline. “What is going on here, Tom?”

  “I’m trying to marry the mother of my children.”

  The parson’s face darkened into an expression that seemed to promise fire and brimstone. “Now see here, Linscott. I want to know—”

  Mandy was so distracted by Tom’s kiss that she didn’t even find the grace to blush. In fact, she didn’t even find the wherewithal to listen to the parson.

  “And she’s being stubborn about it.” Tom leaned close until his cheek rested on hers, and she forgot all about her children and Red and her Winchester.

  “I’ll not have a member of my flock
carrying on without—”

  The voice of the local holy man was like a faint buzz she couldn’t quite understand because of Tom’s sliding one strong arm around her waist.

  “You will—” He caressed every bump in her backbone while he whispered into her ear.

  “Mandy, you don’t have to get married today if you don’t want to. I’ll—” Mark patted her on the shoulder while Angela yelled, “Papa.” But that barely penetrated her ears after Tom’s kiss.

  Each whispered word Tom spoke sent a little tingle straight into her brain, which made thinking sensibly impossible. “Marry me.”

  That was no proper proposal.

  “Tom,” Mandy heard Wade throw his voice into this mess, “you need to let Mandy have time. A day or two to decide.”

  A day or two? Mandy couldn’t imagine things getting better in a day or two.

  “Mandy girl, say yes.” There was that voice, that touch, that strength drowning out everything even though he whispered.

  “I want some answers. Who are these children, and why are they calling you—” The parson yammered on, but Mandy didn’t quite have the gumption to go into a long explanation. Not when her bones were melting as she listened to a man order her around.

  In the normal course of things, Mandy never followed orders unless she got ordered to do something she fully intended to do anyway. But now disobedience wasn’t so easy with shivers running down her neck, spreading far and wide.

  “You’ve been coming to my church for a long time now, and you’ve never said a word—” Red waved the Bible at both of them as if he was prepared to beat the sin right out of their lives.

  “My brother will do as he wishes and—” Abby was talking now.

  Mandy took a moment to truly and deeply appreciate that the dark-haired woman standing next to the cranky preacher remained quiet.

  This was the strangest wedding ceremony Mandy had ever seen. Her first one had been tidy and proper, though, and what a dumb move that had been.

  “Now, Red,” Wade broke into the preacher’s rant. “Tom wouldn’t do a thing—”

  But really, who could pay attention to all the talking when Tom was so close and her bones were liquid? All the voices just a steady roar, like the wind blowing, easy to ignore.

  “Say yes, sweetheart.” Tom brushed his lips across her ear and nodded his head, slowly, gently.

  Mandy found her own head nodding right along.

  “It’s time.” Tom eased back, still nodding. “Finally, it’s time for us.”

  Mandy nodded right along.

  And what reason could she possibly have for not marrying Tom anyway? She’d wanted him for years. Shamefully, sinfully, she’d known he was a much better man than Sidney. She’d kept all of that to herself when it was such a dreadful betrayal of her wedding vows. She’d denied it so completely she’d not even admitted it to herself.

  Well, maybe she’d admitted it a few times—for a second or two each time—but there was no reason to deny it now. Sidney was gone. Tom was here. Her chance for a life with a man she respected was within her grasp.

  Why not? Why not reach out and grab this chance at marriage to a good, strong man?

  Because Tom was going to die.

  “Now, Tom.” Wade broke into her thoughts. He sounded reasonable and sane. But since when did sanity have any place in her life? “I think Mandy needs time to—”

  “I love you, Pa.” Angela just would not stop.

  “Where did three children come from that call you pa?” Red interrupted. “You will answer me now, Tom Linscott. There are three innocent, impressionable children involved, and I—”

  “Let’s talk”—with a glint of annoyance, Tom quit tempting her and turned to Red—“about your wedding for a few minutes, shall we, Preacher-man?”

  Mandy looked between Red and his wife and saw them both blush just a bit. Red went so far as to quit scolding. The wife, with her china white skin and pure complexion, got very busy wiping her perfectly tidy baby’s chin while the palest hint of peach darkened her cheeks. Red, with his Irish coloring, red hair, and freckles, turned a far more vibrant shade of red and he clutched his Bible a little tighter. What had happened to these two?

  “How Cassie and I got married has nothing to do with this.” Suddenly Red sounded a lot less like he was holding a revival meeting demanding sinners repent and a lot more like a young awkward rancher.

  “Sure it does.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “You married a woman you didn’t know.”

  “I knew her a little.” Red moved closer to his wife’s side.

  “You said your vows while you were both standing on the freshly dug grave of her husband.”

  “We didn’t pick that spot.” Red frowned.

  “And you”—Tom turned to Wade—“traipsed your horse over the grave and kissed Cassie in front of a throng of men and tried to take her for yourself.”

  Abby scowled at her husband.

  Wade smiled at her, which struck Mandy as very brave. “Things were different back then, Tom.”

  “And you”—Tom glared at Abby—“spent more time pulling a knife on Wade—”

  “And me,” Red spoke up, looking a bit relieved that Tom wasn’t talking about him anymore.

  “And me,” Tom added.

  “Your sister tried to stab you?” Mandy was liking Abby better all the time.

  Through all of this, Tom’s strong hand remained on her back, holding her close. Her children took turns yelling “Pa.”

  The chaos and Tom’s gentle touch almost distracted Mandy from the fact that she was bringing certain death to the man she wanted to marry. And wasn’t that what it all came down to?

  Mandy made her decision. “It doesn’t matter.”

  God, protect me.

  She turned to Tom. “You’re a fool to do this.”

  God, protect Tom.

  “I’m probably evil, certainly a weakling, to marry you.”

  God, protect us.

  “We’re putting my children at an even greater risk outside that fortress, and I hate that.”

  God, protect them.

  “But you’re determined and I—I—” She reached her hand out to run her fingers gently down a face that she adored. “I want to be your wife more than you want to be my husband.”

  God, protect this marriage.

  “That’s not possible, Mandy girl.”

  “Yes. May God protect us, yes.”

  Tom’s expression altered from determination to satisfaction.

  “I’ll marry you.”

  Red looked worried.

  “It’s about time.” Tom’s satisfaction turned to pleasure.

  Wade looked resigned.

  “And God forgive me for it.”

  Abby looked like she’d gladly pull her knife right now if need be.

  “God’s going to bless you for it.” He kissed her quickly, lightly, but with a kiss that promised a lifetime of more. “No forgiveness required, darlin’.”

  Angela yelled that Pa was kissing Ma.

  “You’re sure, Mandy?” Mark’s hand rested on her back. “I’ll see you get home to Texas if you want me to. I’ll take you.”

  Angela waved at Tom from Mark’s arms and said, “I love you, Pa.”

  Before the whole storm could fire up again, Mandy said, “I’m sure, Mark.”

  Sighing, she looked at Tom. Shaking her head at the foolish, foolish man, she let her hand slide from his face, down his arm, until she held his hand. And he gripped hers as if he’d never let it go.

  “I hope and pray you’re right about God blessing us, Tom Linscott, because we’re going to need Him to survive.”

  Eight

  Dearly beloved …”

  Tom almost choked when he heard the words. Crazy as it seemed, he really hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he was actually getting married. He’d been too focused on bringing Mandy around to saying yes. And heaven knew that was a big enough job.


  He hadn’t pondered actually being married. Much.

  He’d been a bachelor for a long time.

  “We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman …”

  Of course he’d planned this day up to this point down to the last detail. That included plotting with the Shoshone, picking a day Red would be handy, arranging for the Shoshone to protect their escape, and making sure his cowhands met him and took over their protection. And that didn’t mention kidnapping his woman and dragging her to his ranch and using every trick, threat, and bribe he could think of to force her to stand up here and say, “I do.”

  Sure, he’d done all that to bring about getting married, but that wasn’t exactly the same thing as being married. He had a little trouble paying attention to Red and listening to his wedding vows, and that was no doubt a Rocky Mountain-sized sin.

  His feet turned to pure ice. He had an itch between his shoulder blades that told him the Cooters would be coming plenty soon. And he had a soon-to-be wife who could outshoot him, out-yell him, and had knocked him in the head with her telescope not all that long ago. He probably had a black eye to show for this twisted courtship.

  “Do you, Tom Linscott, take this woman—”

  Abby jabbed Tom in the ribs.

  He looked at her.

  “Say, ‘I do,’ white man.” Abby hadn’t drawn her knife, though, and Tom took that to mean he hadn’t acted in any way that was truly offensive.

  But the day was young.

  “I do.”

  Mandy couldn’t believe he’d said it. Even more, she couldn’t believe she was about to say it right back.

  Red turned his attention to Mandy. “And do you, Mandy Gray, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for as long as you both shall live?”

  “I”—gunfire exploded in the distance—“do”—Mandy whirled around to face the trouble, reaching for her rifle … which wasn’t there—“need my gun.”

  “You do need your gun?” Red shook his head, took one lightning quick glance at his Bible as if trying to remember where that part of the wedding vows came from, then turned toward the gunfire and produced a Colt six-shooter.