Chance Creek Brides (Volumes 1-3 & the Stagecoach Bride)

by Mary L. Briggs

  She grabbed his arm. “No! Wait and let the law take care of it, Sam. At least wait until Luther comes back with the sheriff.”

  He pulled away from her. “I don’t want Fletcher to see me talking to the sheriff. Now you get back to wherever Luther told you to stay. Just wait a few minutes. I don’t want to take a chance on them seeing us together.”

  Five minutes later, Charlotte made her way back to the horses, where she put on her gloves and fiddled with the saddle bags, trying to look busy.

  “I think they may be going out to his ranch,” Sam was beside her again, his low voice close to her ear. “I’m going to follow-”

  Charlotte jerked with surprise and blew out a breath to calm her racing heart. “Don't do this. Just wait and–”

  “Hey, Anderson! I meant to tell you to ride out and see me sometime. I think you’ll approve of my new place.”

  The man standing in front of her was tall and well built, his blonde hair slightly shaggy beneath the dark brown hat he wore. Justice Fletcher was an attractive man, well-groomed and looked every bit the gentleman he appeared in the photograph around her neck.

  His clothes appeared well pressed and new, without a trace of the dirt and dust along Tyler's Bluff. A twist of disgust dug into her side. Had he changed them since his early morning killings?

  Her eyes met the cold blue stare of the man she was supposed to marry, her breath ice in her throat. She tried to tear her gaze away, but he seemed to hold her with his stare. The smirk on his face was undeniable. It was easy to see how much he thought of himself now that she was looking upon his real face.

  Her fingers felt glued to the reins in her hands as she fought the urgent need to run from the evil she sensed in her presence. Sam’s answer broke her thoughts and pulled her eyes away from Justice and to his own face.

  “Sure thing.” His voice was calm, although she saw his complexion pale for a moment before answering, a flicker of darkness in his eyes.

  She swallowed hard. Sam’s voice sounded so calm. . .so normal. It should give her strength not to betray her own feelings.

  “Just let me finish up giving instructions to. . .the kid, here. You know how hired hands are,” he laughed.

  “Right,” Justice nodded. “I’ve got a little business at the bank. It may take a while. If you want to go on ahead, just take the Clanton Road to the old Melton ranch.”

  Her eyes watched as he retreated across the street. He turned and gave them one more glance before entering the bank.

  Chapter 12

  “You get on your horse and get back to the ranch. Now.”

  She stared into his face. He was still angry, and maybe a little bit frightened. He must have forgotten how stubborn she was, else he would know he was wasting his breath.

  “Come back with me and get the warrant,” she said. "We'll find the Marshall and do this right. You told me you were doing this legally, Sam. Honestly.”

  He shook his head. “If he and his men shot a U. S. Marshall and deputies, I don’t think I need a warrant to go after them. The law will be more than glad to take him off my hands once I’ve got him.”

  “There are three of them, Sam! You'll need some help, if nothing else,” she argued.

  He gave a bitter laugh. “This is Texas, Charlotte. We do things a little different around here.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.”

  “You have to wait here for Luther," Same answered, sternly. "He may have some information from the sheriff.”

  She turned and looked up the road, where Luther was slowly limping his way toward them. “Here he is now,” she said, as if defying his orders.

  Luther’s teeth showed bright behind his grin. "Mr. Sam! You’re alright. We was worried about you!”

  Sam nodded and gave the man a pat on the shoulder. “I’m fine. Did you find out anything from the sheriff?”

  Luther handed a folded paper to him. “I had him write it down," he said.

  Sam opened the sheriff's message in hand, reading it quickly before giving it back. “Go ahead and take this on up to Black Well. The sheriff up there ought to be able to get up a posse, too. In the meantime,” he glanced at Charlotte, “I’m going out to the Melton Ranch with Fletcher to wait for what happens."

  "Charlotte,” he continued, his voice taking on an edge, “is going back to the farmhouse. I'm going to escort her as close as I can before I meet Fletcher,” he said with a firm stare directed at her.

  “Maybe,” she said, putting her boot in the stirrup. “Where’s your horse?”

  ***

  Sam sighed. The only sure way to get rid of her was to take her back to the house. He didn’t have any choice but to let her come, at least part of the way. Untying his horse, he prayed a quick prayer.

  Help me keep her safe, Lord. And please give her the will to obey me if there’s trouble. She was the most stubborn female he’d run across in his entire life. And his heart would never be the same if something happened to her.

  ***

  Sam took the lead and they fell in line behind a couple of family wagons on their way out of town. Children laughed and screeched in the warm sunshine and ran along the road, stopping periodically to pick wildflowers. It wasn’t long before the group in front of them took a turn to the east and left the two of them alone.

  Charlotte glanced at him, his eyes steady on the road ahead. Her jaw ached as she clenched her teeth. He didn’t look interested in conversation and the words burning hot on her tongue were sure to make him angry. How could he be positive that this wasn’t some kind of trap? His visit to the ranch, vulnerable in Justice's grasp while the posses were being formed– didn't he think there was a good chance he could be killed?

  Justice Fletcher knew this morning's crime would come to light, unless he killed Marshall Brown as he attempted to kill all the deputies. The memory of their meeting less than an hour ago sent a flash of coldness through her.

  A man like Justice Fletcher was more than she bargained for when she took the train out of Springfield.

  ***

  They approached a fork in the road and Sam pulled his horse to a stop. He swung down and motioned for her to do the same.

  Charlotte hesitated, then followed, standing close beside him. She concentrated on the reins she held in her hand. “I guess this is it?” She looked up and waited for his answer.

  Sam‘s fingers grasped her hat; the hot afternoon air rippled through her hair as he pulled it from her head. Her long braids, carefully tucked on her head, cascaded down her back.

  Blue eyes, indigo in the bright light, sought hers and held them captive. Her fingers longed to touch the rapidly healing wound on his head. She swallowed hard and willed herself to look away. But it was impossible.

  He narrowed his eyes as he spoke, as if he wanted an affirmation from her. “You understand why I have to do this, don’t you?”

  She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. “I. . .yes. But I think you should wait for the sheriff, Sam. Please don't go into this without the posse.”

  He shook his head and touched her cheek.

  Shivers pricked her skin as he put his finger under her chin and tilted her face to him.

  “I can’t do that,” he whispered as he leaned down, his lips brushing hers.

  Her knees went weak as the world begin to spin. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist to steady herself. And to keep him there. Keep him safe until help came.

  He stepped back and pulled his arm from her grasp. He cleared his throat and looked away. “You take a left here and this road will lead you right to the ranch. And stay there,” he ordered, his eyes meeting hers again.

  No! How could he be so stubborn? But she held her tongue. Begging would lead to nothing more than anger on his part. Her heart tore as she nodded. “Sam. . .please be careful.”

  “I intend to,” he said, pulling himself in his saddle and urging his horse ahead.

  She stood watching until he was lost in a cloud of dust. Ta
ke care of him, Lord. Give him courage and wisdom.

  Chapter 13

  The barn was dark and quiet as she rode in. She slid off the horse and gave her eyes a moment to adjust. Her gaze rested on the large stall reserved for Sam’s big gray horse. Empty. Like her heart…and her life if he never came back.

  Her fingers fumbled at her half-hearted attempt to unsaddle. Part of her yearned to gallop out of here and go back to him. Tell him how she felt. But she could never do that. And he was already angry with her. No need to annoy him even more.

  Her ears caught the far-off sound of thundering hooves. She ran to the open door and listened. They were coming from the west. Was it possible that Luther’s message to the sheriff in Black Well was already being answered? No. It was too soon. Luther would barely be to Black Well by now. But maybe it was possible the sheriff in Tyler Bluff had formed a posse from the local men. Her heart welled with that hope.

  She waited as the pounding grew closer. A cloud of dust formed, announcing the arrival of the six riders as they turned into the long drive to the barn. A trickle of recognition washed over her as the leader pulled his horse to a halt in front of her and tipped his hat from his forehead. It was the man from the stage, U. S. Marshall Brown. He was safe. The deputy’s hopes had been answered.

  “Marshall Brown! You’re all right. We feared you were dead!”

  He was off the large roan at once. “I came close to being such, Miss Turner. What made you think I might be dead?”

  “Deputy Banks. He rode in, wounded. He told us about the ambush–he worried that you were dead. Luther has gone to see the sheriff in Black Well and tell him about the incident.”

  A shadow passed over Brown’s face. “Is my deputy still alive?”

  She nodded. “We got him inside and sent for the doctor. He thinks the man will be all right.”

  Brown turned his eyes toward the house. “Is Sam Anderson here?”

  The concern in his voice sent her heart reeling. She shook her head and answered in a shaky voice. “No. He’s gone with Justice Fletcher–to stall for time.”

  “Can you tell me how to find them?”

  “I can show you,” she volunteered. She could give directions to the ranch, but this was her one chance to go back to Sam. Even he couldn’t hold her promise against her if it meant helping his friend.

  ***

  The trip was faster than Charlotte had thought. Turning up the road that Sam had taken, it wasn’t long before the two-storey home, set back on a slight rise, came into view. Her house. Or it would have been if Sam hadn’t rescued her from the stage four days ago. She would be mistress behind those four walls today. But probably only for a short time, she thought grimly.

  Marshall Brown led them into a patch of scrubby brush and trees that hid them well from the ranch house. Through the scraggly branches, Charlotte spotted Smoke tied to a post in front of the house. She strained her eyes in that direction. No one seemed to be out on the porch. In a matter of minutes, the Marshall would order her to stay behind.

  “They must be inside,” Marshall Brown observed. He turned in the saddle and motioned to one of his men. “Rankin, you head around the back. Porter, go with him. And both of you stay out of sight of the house.”

  Charlotte gripped her reins tighter as the two deputies left on their assignment. The three remaining sat silently, waiting for instructions from the Marshall.

  Brown glanced at her. “I need you to stay here, Miss Turner. If you try to go up to the house, you’ll be putting us, as well as Anderson in danger. Do you understand?”

  She nodded and bristled at his tone. She would never do anything to put any of them at risk, especially Sam. But she didn't want to be left behind like this, watching from a distance as Sam and his friends faced danger.

  Brown turned to his deputies. “I’m going to ride up to the house, nice and slow. I’ll keep my guns holstered, friendly like. We just might be able to take them peacefully. You three, flank my left and stay in the wood line. Don’t want to tip them off that there’s so many of us. And keep in mind Anderson’s in the house.

  ***

  Charlotte sat straighter in the saddle, trying to stop the trembling inside. She gripped the reins in her hand tighter. If only there was something she could do. Throwing her left leg over the saddle, she slid to the ground and leaned against the horse, letting the mare’s mane tickle her cheek.

  The horse stomped and gave a slight whiney.

  Charlotte patted her neck and spoke in a soft voice. “You know he’s in trouble, too, girl, don’t you? Well don’t worry, the Marshall will get him out of there.”

  “Won’t be too easy on ‘em since he’s not in there.”

  Charlotte jumped and turned. Justice Fletcher was a mere three feet away. He had changed from his town clothes, but the gun belt he’d worn was still hanging from his side. And the rifle he held in his hand was pointed at her. Her heart sank to her boots.

  His lips formed a nasty grin. “I take it you’re my bride-to-be?” he said. "Somehow, I pictured you dressed a little more proper when we'd first meet. A little more ladylike."

  Charlotte willed her shaky knees to hold her weight. She couldn’t let him see that she was afraid. It would only amuse him.

  He continued without waiting for her to answer. “I couldn’t help but be a little suspicious when I saw you in town. Not many farm hands wear a gold chain around their neck."

  Automatically, her hand went to her throat. The kerchief had slipped to the side and she could readily feel the links of metal beneath her fingers.

  “It’s real nice of you to keep wearing my gift when you’ve obviously decided I’m not the man for you.”

  Her fingers clasped around the chain and she pulled hard, breaking the clasp. She slung it toward him and watched it land at his feet.

  He bent to pick it up, dangling the gold necklace from his hand. “I’ll expect you to be wearing it at our wedding, Miss Turner.”

  A gasp escaped her throat. “Wedding?" she repeated. "You’re insane to think I would marry you now, after...”

  Laughter roared from his throat, interrupting her words. “Oh, I think you’ll change your mind real soon. Now get moving.” He nodded his head to the trail left of them, leading into a wooded area

  She took a step in that direction, all the while searching her mind for some way to escape from him. For the moment it seemed hopeless, almost like a dream, that he would force her to do this when he knew she was participating in his attempted capture.

  “Just stay on the path, Charlotte," he said, with a smile that made her shudder.

  Chapter 14

  Hearing him speak her given name sent a blade of fear through her. It was an effort to put one foot in front of the other; if she didn’t obey, she might not get out of this alive. But her immediate concern was not for herself, but for Sam. What had he meant that Sam wasn’t in the farm house? Had he hurt him? Killed him? She could never go on living if he had done such a thing.

  The path widened as a large, weather-worn barn loomed in front of them. Charlotte set her eyes on the building, praying silently. Maybe Sam was safe within those walls.

  “Go on, step inside,” Justice ordered, pushing the barrel of the rifle into her back as they approached the wide doorway.

  She stumbled across a stone as she entered the old structure. Blinking in the dim light, her eyes searched the open area. Her heart faltered when she spotted a man slumped on the ground, his hands pulled behind him and tied to an inside post.

  Without hesitation, she ran to him. “Sam? Are you all right?”

  He lifted his head, gazing past her to the man with the gun.

  Fear spiked through her as she saw his swollen eye and the blood on his face. Pulling the kerchief from around her neck, she daubed at his wounds, trying to clean them.

  Sam jerked his face from her touch, keeping his eyes on Fletcher. “Let her go," he said, thickly. "Now. They’ll go easier on you if you don’t keep her ag
ainst her will.”

  Fletcher’s fingers closed around her arm like an iron cuff, yanking her to her feet and sending barbs of pain shooting to her shoulder. She struggled to break his grasp, but he was too strong. Digging her heels into the hard ground, she struggled against his will, forcing him to lean his rifle against the wall to use both hands.

  “I think you’re the one who’s been holding her against her will, Anderson," he reminded Sam, with a laugh. "In case you’ve forgotten, she’s mine. Gave her word she would marry me.”

  Charlotte turned and spat in his face. “I never agreed to marry a murderer.” His fist came down hard on her cheek and she dropped to her knees, instantly regretting the cry that escaped from her lips.

  “You coward! Let her go!” Sam shouted, struggling with the ropes that bound his hands.

  “I don’t take orders from you, Anderson,” Fletcher answered.

  Rough hands seized the back of her shirt collar, then her braids. He pulled her to her feet and held her close to him as she shoved her elbow into his mid-region. He grunted and pulled her hair tighter.

  The expression in Sam’s eyes hurt her worse than any of the pain from Justice's blows. He was helpless to rescue her from the man he despised the most.

  “You really thought you could cheat me out of my life, didn’t you?” Justice pulled the pistol from his belt and pointed it at Sam as he pulled back the hammer.

  Charlotte screamed, “NO!”

  Justice ignored her and laughed at the look of grim resignation on Sam's face. “Don’t worry, Anderson, I’m not gonna shoot you. . .just yet.” He glanced at Charlotte. “My fiancé and I want you to be best man at our wedding. Isn’t that right, darlin’?”