Forever His Texas Bride (Bachelors of Battle Creek #3)

by Linda Broday

  “What do you think?” He drew in a ragged breath.

  “I almost missed knowing this,” she whispered. “You’re a tender, beautiful man, my pretend husband.”

  As he digested her words, he lightly ran the pad of his thumb over her eyes, cheek, and lips. Even though they’d only known each other such a short time, Rayna made him feel as though he really mattered. As though his being alive brought strength and worth to her.

  It almost felt like what he imagined love to be.

  Since he never had the opportunity to know his mother and father, Brett wondered if they’d loved, or if they’d been cold and distant, hurrying in the darkness when they created him. In his opinion, two people who brought a child into the world should have tender feelings for each other.

  Or maybe making love tended to be more like making war.

  Only that certainly wasn’t the case between his brothers and their wives. He’d seen the raw hunger in their eyes when they were in the same room. “Did your parents ever kiss, Rayna?”

  “Raymond Harper never once said a kind word to her, not even when she told him she lost the baby she was carrying. He looked at her and said that he was glad, because he had enough hungry brats. My mama cried. He always made her cry. My father is a hard, bitter man. I hate my name because half of it is his.”

  Brett brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. It was getting easier and easier to initiate these small touches. “I’m truly sorry.”

  She raised her eyes. “What were your parents like?”

  “Don’t know. I never knew them. People at the orphanage found me on the steps shortly after I was born.”

  “Sometimes I wish I’d have been an orphan.” Her voice sounded wistful and full of regret. “Would’ve been better to have never known my father.”

  “You’re saying that now because of the painful memories. It’s hell never knowing where you came from. I have nothing tying me to the past, or maybe the future either. The way I see it, the two are woven together into a colorful blanket. Without one, the other is full of holes.”

  Brett turned at the sound of the door. The sympathetic jailor came in carrying a cloth-covered basket. He unlocked Brett’s cell and set it on the bunk. “Be careful. There’s a coffeepot and two cups in case Miss Rayna wants some too.”

  Hot coffee. The man might as well have offered him a pocketful of twenty-dollar gold pieces. “Thank you, sir. You don’t know how much I appreciate this. What is your name?”

  “Hank Maxwell. Only brought a few simple things that I know can lift spirits. The sheriff and other deputies are out of the jail. I’ll be back to collect the basket in an hour.”

  The footsteps had hardly faded before Brett removed the pot and cups. He poured some for Rayna then for himself.

  Rayna’s hand trembled when she accepted the cup, her fingers brushing his. “I haven’t had coffee in a long while.”

  “Just enjoy it.” Brett looked at what else the deputy had brought. His eyes widened. “Want some fried chicken? There’s more than enough.”

  “Is there anything else in there besides chicken? Some bread or vegetables?”

  He frowned. “What’s wrong with chicken?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  Brett shook his head in disbelief. “Strangest thing I’ve ever heard.” He pulled out some thick slices of bread, kept one for himself, and handed her the other three. “That’s all that’s in the basket. It’s not enough to fill you up. If you change your mind about the chicken, let me know.”

  “Thank you, but I won’t. This bread is good. It’s not moldy like most they bring.”

  Each sat on their bunk and ate in silence. Brett had the best meal he’d had in a week. Between sips of coffee, he ate his fill. At least if they hung him tomorrow, his stomach wouldn’t growl when they placed the noose around his neck.

  With everything gone an hour later, he replaced the pot and cups in the basket. Then he lay on his bunk, staring at the ceiling.

  “Thank you, Brett,” Rayna said softly. “I was so hungry.”

  “You’re full now?”

  “Couldn’t hold another bite.” She stood, wrapping her fingers around the bars. “I think you’ve brought me good luck.”

  A smile curved Brett’s lips. First she gave credit to the carved heart, then the kiss, and now to him. He found her childlike innocence refreshing. Rayna probably believed in fairy tales and magic. “I’ve never been anyone’s good luck charm. Most likely it was due to our jailor remembering he has a heart.”

  “Maybe it’ll rain tomorrow, maybe for a whole week.”

  It would only prolong the agony. He didn’t wish to wake every morning with the inevitable hanging over his head.

  “Brett?”

  “What is it now?” He rose onto an elbow, careful not to pull the wound on his back.

  “Would you hold me again?”

  “Are you forgetting the bars between us?”

  “Nope. You can still put your arms around me.”

  “Are you cold?”

  “I’m lonely. And scared. I don’t think the sheriff intends to let me out. I may die in here. In the darkness. With the rats and spiders and…bats.”

  “When did you get bats in your cell?”

  “I don’t have ’em yet, but I know by the time I die, I will. They like dark caves, and this resembles one. Bad things happen in the dark.”

  Her small voice touched him. He rose and stood in front of her. Slowly, he stuck his arms through the bars and around her slight frame. She sighed and pressed as close as she could get to him. Her nearness jolted his body, sending unexpected heat through him.

  Here in the dark, it was easy to think Rayna was the woman he’d waited his whole life for. He’d like to wrap his arms around her and never let her go.

  She might hide insecurity and fear from others, but he saw them clearly.

  And it was in them that he recognized himself.

  “I wish our cell doors would magically come open so I could sleep beside you again,” she murmured. “You make me feel safe.”

  “You do me as well, Rayna Harper.” And Brett realized he meant every word.

  He made a decision. When they put that rope around his neck tomorrow, he’d close his eyes and take a calm breath. Rayna’s face would be the last thing he saw. She’d given him an unbelievable gift—that of letting him pretend to have lived a full life and known love. He’d cherish that until his very last moment.

  *

  Cooper and Rand arrived at Steele’s Hollow that afternoon in a pouring rain. A sign at the edge of town met them: Travel at your own risk.

  But it was the skull of a buffalo perched on the pole above it that sent chills skittering up Cooper’s spine.

  What the hell did that mean? He checked his Colt to make sure it was loaded and easily accessible before proceeding slowly down the street.

  He dismounted at the jail. After giving the gallows next to it a narrowed look, he strode inside. Right behind him, Rand slammed the door shut with a good bit of force. Water cascaded from their dusters and dripped from the brims of their hats.

  The man behind the desk jumped to his feet, his chair clattering to the floor. He was wearing a tin star. “What the hell? Who are you?”

  “You must be Oldham.” Cooper slowly removed his gloves. “I’m Cooper Thorne, the sheriff of Battle Creek, and me and Rand Sinclair have come for Brett Liberty. Get him out of his cell immediately.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Rand striding toward the metal door that presumably led to the prisoners.

  “Hey, you can’t go back there.” The bearded, middle-aged sheriff started toward him.

  “The hell I can’t,” Rand answered. When the door didn’t open, he looked around for the keys.

  Cooper spied them on a nail. His boot heels struck the floor like shots from a rifle. He took the ring of keys and pitched them to his brother. Rand unlocked the divider and disappeared.

  “You can’t bar
ge in here and take over my jail and my prisoners. We have laws in this town. I caught the Indian dead to rights.”

  “Doing what? What are the charges?” Cooper’s steely glare had the sheriff backing up. Cooper tucked his duster behind his holster to reveal his Colt for good measure. Best to let the man know he meant business, but he wouldn’t use it unless he had no other choice.

  The easy way or the hard, he would get Brett out.

  “Uh…horse thievery.” Oldham righted his chair and sat back down. Now that he had a barrier between himself and Cooper, his bravado returned. “He’s due to hang tomorrow.”

  “Brett raises some of the finest horses in the state. He doesn’t need to steal one.”

  “Maybe he liked the animal, so he took it.”

  “Show me this horse he’s charged with stealing.”

  “Well…I can’t rightly do that.” Oldham licked his lips. “I believe… That’s to say, it might’ve ran away.”

  “Mister, I’ll have you know that Brett Liberty hasn’t stolen so much as a penny candy in his entire life.”

  “How would you know? Are you with him every second? He ain’t nothing but a greasy breed.”

  Cooper shoved the desk aside and grabbed Oldham by the shirtfront, yanking him to his feet. “He’s my brother. I’ve lived with him for twenty-five years.”

  The color drained from Oldham’s face. “You don’t look like brothers,” he said weakly.

  “You don’t look like a sack of shit either, but you are.” Cooper tossed him back into the chair. “You move, and I’ll shoot you.”

  Just then, Rand appeared with Brett, who leaned heavily on him.

  “I’m glad to see you,” Brett said, breathing hard. “What kept you?”

  “A little matter of not knowing where you were.” Cooper tossed five silver dollars at Sheriff Oldham. They scattered, rolling all over the floor. “This’ll pay for his keep.”

  Brett pulled himself up straight with effort. “He took the bank draft from the sale of the horses.”

  Putting both hands on the desk, Cooper leaned within a few inches of the sheriff’s face. “Hand it over, or I’ll go through everything in here until I find it. I’ll also have Brett’s knife.”

  Glaring, Oldham reached into a drawer, jerked out the paper, then retrieved the knife. Cooper snatched them and straightened.

  “Let’s get out of this stink hole,” Rand said, moving Brett toward the door.

  Brett came to a dead stop. “Not yet. I’m not leaving without the woman in the cells.”

  Letting out a long sigh, Cooper swung back. “How much is the woman’s fine?”

  Oldham met his stare. Evidently now that they were about to leave, his bluster returned. “Ten dollars.”

  “She’s been in here for over a month,” Brett protested. “She’s already paid double for her petty crime.”

  Whoever this woman was, Cooper knew Brett wouldn’t budge without her. He fished out two more silver dollars and pitched them. “This is all you get. Argue, and we’ll break her out also. Better to get something than nothing.”

  Though anger flushed the sheriff’s face, he kept silent.

  “I’m ready to wash the stench of this town off me.” Rand leaned Brett against the door and vanished into the back.

  Cooper kept his eyes on Oldham. “You’re a disgrace to the office you hold. I promise I’m wiring the governor. I’d love to have the Texas Rangers ride in here and clean up this mess.”

  “I keep the peace here. You can’t fault me for that.”

  Ignoring him, Cooper turned to Brett. “Where is your horse?”

  “Oldham and his deputies shot him.”

  Rage shook Cooper to the core. He pinned Oldham with a hard glare. “If I ever see you again, you’re a dead man.”

  Rand returned a minute later with a woman who probably didn’t weigh ninety pounds soaking wet. Clutching a pitiful little gunnysack that probably held everything she owned, she gave Brett a smile and thanked him.

  When Cooper jerked open the door to leave, a squatty man wearing a deputy’s badge tumbled inside. Red-faced, he quickly straightened.

  Cooper didn’t miss how quickly the woman shrank against his side or the protective hand Brett laid on her. The actions told him the deputy was rotten to the core.

  “Sorry,” the beady-eyed deputy mumbled. Brushing against the woman, he shot Oldham a questioning glance.

  “I released the prisoners,” Oldham said as though feeling the need to explain.

  Shooting the pair one last glare, Cooper held the door for his brothers, then ushered the woman out. They stood under the roof’s overhang, staring at the dismal weather.

  “We’ll have to buy two more horses first thing,” Cooper said. “Are you and your friend hungry, Brett?”

  “No. I just want out of this town.”

  “Me too,” the new addition to their party said in a low voice.

  “By the way,” Brett said, “this is Rayna Harper.”

  “Welcome aboard, Miss Rayna. I’m Cooper Thorne. Guess we’d best head to the livery.”

  “Little brother, we have lots of catching up to do,” Rand said, grinning, then introduced himself to Rayna.

  By the time they’d purchased two horses and saddles, the rain had stopped. Cooper mounted up, ready to lead the way. He was ready to get home to his beautiful wife and twins. He’d spent too many nights away from them.

  He noticed Brett’s grimace when he pulled himself into the saddle. “Do you think you can ride?”

  “Don’t think you’re going to leave me here. Don’t worry about me; I’m going to live.”

  “Yes, you are,” Rayna said, reaching to lay a hand on him. “I told you the good luck charm would work. Or maybe it was the kiss.”

  Cooper swore he could see the color rising in Brett’s face. Instead of teasing, he raised his arm and ordered, “Let’s ride.”

  Within minutes they passed the travel-at-your-own-risk sign near the edge of town. He turned to Brett. “Didn’t this tell you to watch for trouble?” his brother teased.

  “It was pitch black when I rode through. Never saw it.”

  As the riders put the town and its corrupt sheriff behind them, the golden sun poked through the low-hanging clouds, seeming to promise happier days ahead.

  “Look at that,” Rayna breathed. “This means bright blessings.”

  Brett shook his head. “Everything to you is some sign or another. I hope you don’t plan on doing this when we get home. Or trying to steal my moccasins. I’m going to keep my eye on you.”

  Home? Cooper didn’t know what Brett had in mind, but it sounded like he’d issued an invitation to the Wild Horse. Possibly a lot more than that. All he knew was they were already acting like an old married couple.

  Cooper grinned. Their little brother was taken with his auburn-haired cellmate.

  And what was that about stealing Brett’s moccasins? Cooper sensed quite a story there, but he knew his little brother would sooner cut out his tongue than reveal it.

  Especially if he was in the process of losing his heart to Miss Rayna Harper.

  From the looks of things, the last holdout might not remain a bachelor long.

  Five

  Twilight bathed the rolling hills in plum and charcoal shadows before they stopped to make camp. They’d managed to put twenty miles between them and Steele’s Hollow. Still, Brett wouldn’t breathe deeply until he was back on his land. He watched his brothers head off to scare up something for supper while Rayna collected wood for a fire.

  It irked Brett that he could only lie on a bedroll like some broken-down old man. In truth, though, the ride had exhausted him. It had taken all his willpower and a tight grip on the reins to stay in the saddle the last few miles.

  He closed his eyes and let the rain-cooled air replace the dank stench that lingered in his nostrils.

  Never would he take his freedom for granted. It was a precious thing and worth more than all the gold on earth
.

  At Rayna’s cry, his eyes flew open in alarm. He struggled to his feet. As he drew closer, he saw a white owl flying from tree to tree, its wingspan impressive. Rayna dropped a load of branches to pluck something from the ground.

  “Where are you bit? Tell me.” His mind raced. It was still a little early for rattlesnakes to be out and moving around, but spiders and scorpions were. He hated both with a passion.

  “Nowhere.”

  “What made you cry out?”

  “It’s terrible luck to see a white owl before dark.”

  “Oh.” He grinned and relaxed, collecting the load of wood she’d dropped. “What was that you picked up off the ground?”

  “An acorn. Carrying it will ward off evil.”

  They walked back into camp, and he dropped the firewood. “Rayna, do you truly believe all this?”

  “My grandfather taught me all about omens and spells.” She clearly knew her way around a campsite too. She laid twigs and some shaved tree bark inside a circle of rocks exactly as he would’ve done.

  “I know, but do you really believe their power?”

  “I certainly do.” Rayna glanced up and met his stare. “What? Why are you smiling?”

  “I love watching you. You’re a constant mystery. You’re afraid of the dark, have wild superstitions, and relieve people of the things in their pockets, yet you dove in and saved the life of a perfect stranger. I can’t figure you out.”

  She shrugged. “Not much to figure. Sometimes you make the choices, and sometimes the choices make you.”

  “They do for a fact.” He pondered over her surprising answer. It carried so much wisdom. But at least one of her choices had led her down the wrong path.

  “You should’ve left me in that jail.”

  “Sorry, couldn’t do that.”

  Bewilderment rippled across her face. “Why?”

  “I saw someone worth saving,” he said quietly.

  Rayna turned away, but not before he saw sorrow fill her eyes. The silence stretched as she bent to her task.

  At last Brett spoke. “You know a lot about making a fire.”

  “Ought to. It was my job when I was with my father.” She lifted the matches wrapped in oilcloth that Cooper had left. She struck one and placed the flaming end to the twigs.