“Hello,” the tallest girl began as Aaron strode toward her, yanking his gun from its holster.
He seized her around her waist lifting her, pointing his pistol at her head, his lips drawn back from his teeth. “Grab them!” he barked, his eyes on the parents, who suddenly realized the peril their daughters were in.
“Don’t hurt my babies!” screamed the mother, lifting her skirts to run down the steps at the same moment Elmer and Franklin both grabbed a now panicked child. The father, his face a mask of fear and anger, also started toward Aaron and his brothers.
“Don’t move,” Aaron ordered. “I’ll kill her.”
Both parents froze on the steps, the mother holding her hands to her lower face, her blue eyes bulging from their sockets. The ranch owner, too, appeared close to panic, his hands clenched into fists as he stared at his daughters in the hands of Aaron and his brothers, guns pointed at their heads.
“What do you want?” the man cried, his voice shaking. “Don’t hurt them, they’re just children.”
The girls themselves had begun to cry and scream, the child in Aaron’s arms struggled to escape him. She kicked and pounded his arm with her small hands, her voice high in a piercing shriek. “Stop yelling,” he yelled, half turning to glare at the other two. “Quiet down now or we’ll shoot you.”
Elmer and Franklin snapped at the kids in their hands, ordered them to quiet down while George pointed his rifle at the parents. As the girls obeyed, ceasing their screams even if they continued to cry, Aaron saw the posse approaching. He jerked his pistol toward them, turning his eyes on the father.
“Get out there,” he snapped. “Tell that posse to back off, or we’ll kill everyone here, starting with these kids. Go now.”
“All right,” he said, his hands rising over his head. “Just don’t hurt my wife and daughters.”
“No one will get hurt unless you don’t do what I say. Now you yell loud and clear to them boys out there, loud so I can hear you. Hurry it up.”
Trotting, his hands in the air, the man ran out of his yard toward the approaching riders. “Stop,” he yelled out, his voice carrying across the distance. “They have my family hostage.”
Dust swirled in a huge cloud around the band of men as they reined in their horses to a stop and gathered into a tight bunch. Aaron watched closely as the father walked toward them, pointing back over his shoulder. Though he was now a fair distance away, Aaron heard him shout clearly to the posse. “They say they’ll kill my family if you don’t back off,” the father repeated, waving his hands toward the house. “Do as they say. Please.”
One of the posse stood up in his stirrups, calling over the distance. “That you, Aaron Dawson? You killing women and children now?”
“I won’t if you ride back the way you came,” Aaron yelled back. “Now, you boys turn around and head out. Right now. These fine children will travel with us for a while. If you’re not chasing us, we’ll let them go, unharmed.”
“Why should we trust a rotten, murdering scoundrel like you?”
“You got no choice, mister,” Aaron shot back. “You come any closer, or follow after us, we kill them. If we die, so do these helpless girls.”
The posse leader sat back down in his saddle, conferring with his men. The rancher, his hands still up, turned his head back and forth between Aaron and his brothers, and the band of men. Aaron glanced around to make certain no ranch hands thought to sneak up and get the drop on them, noting the wary stance of Elmer and Franklin, of George with his rifle still aimed at the weeping mother.
“All right,” shouted the leader. “We’ll back off. Let the children go.”
“Not until we have fresh horses, and are miles from here,” Aaron yelled. “Papa here will find them safe before the coyotes do.” He laughed harshly. “Now, turn them horses around and ride hard.”
“We’ll find you again, Dawson,” the leader warned him. “We’ll shoot you dead on sight. You and your brothers.”
Not bothering to reply, Aaron watched with satisfaction as the dozen or so riders reined their horses around and rode away at a gallop. Not trusting that they wouldn’t simply hide, waiting for him to drop his guard, Aaron motioned to the father. “Get back here, Papa,” he ordered.
Obediently, the rancher returned, his eyes flicking nervously among his brothers and his daughters. “Tell your wife to come here. George, you find a high spot and watch that posse. I want to make sure they’re skinning out and not hiding.”
The man motioned to his wife at the same time George lowered his rifle and ran to a nearby cedar tree, its branches low and thick, its needles shading a good portion of the yard. He set his rifle at the tree’s trunk, then climbed like a squirrel into its branches, peering in the direction the posse rode in.
“Maggie, do what he says,” the father told her when his wife hesitated.
At last, she finished walking down the steps and strode fearfully toward Aaron. “What do you want from us?” she demanded, obviously trying to appear unafraid.
“I want four fresh horses, good ones, from that corral,” Aaron replied. “Papa, you take ours and saddle them with our gear. Elmer there will make sure you don’t pick out something that’ll go lame after a mile. Elmer, you make sure he gives us good ones.”
Elmer nodded, taking the now quiet child with him as the rancher picked up the reins to their blowing and lathered horses. Leading them to the hitching rail near the corral, he tied them and began loosening cinches under Elmer’s watchful eye. Aaron turned toward George in the tree.
“What you see up there?” he called.
“They’re riding away, Aaron,” George returned, his voice carrying clearly. “Back toward them hills we crossed.”
“Stay up there and make sure they don’t split up or just stay in the hills. From up there, you should see their dust from a long way.”
Turning his attention back to the rancher, Aaron observed him leading horses from the corral, Elmer saying something to him. But he was too far away to hear what he said. Even at this distance, the horses the man chose appeared to be sound, with stout legs and broad chests for stamina. He stripped their exhausted mounts of their saddles, throwing them on the backs of the new ones, then cinched them up.
About thirty minutes later, the rancher, followed by Elmer, led the newly saddled and bridled horses back to Aaron and Franklin. George shinnied back down the tree. “They’re gone, Aaron,” he reported. “Just like you told them to.”
“Good.” Aaron stared at the rancher, motioning him with his gun to step away from the horses and move toward his wife. “Now, mister, you give us an hour before you follow after us. I see you tagging after us any closer, and we’ll shoot these girls. Got it?”
“Leave them here, I beg you,” the rancher asked, his voice quavering. “The posse is gone, you don’t need them as hostages anymore.”
“Maybe not,” Aaron replied as Elmer handed him the reins to a horse. “But I think I’ll hang onto them a bit longer, make sure you behave yourself. I wouldn’t want you thinking you can run us down and shoot us in the back.”
“I wouldn’t.”
Aaron smirked. “Not while I have your little ones you won’t.”
“And you’ll let them go?” he asked, his arm around his wife. “You’ll release them unharmed?”
Aaron nodded. “I don’t kill children. But I will if I have to, know that. Do what I say, or they, you and your pretty wife will all die. George, keep your rifle on them.”
George obeyed, cocking his gun and training it on the rancher. Aaron turned and hefted the girl he carried into his saddle, Elmer and Franklin doing the same. He mounted up behind her, holstering his revolver. Once all his brothers had swung into their saddles, he said. “One hour. Then follow our trail and fetch your girls back.”
Setting his spurs to the horse, he galloped away, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the rancher didn’t run to the house for a rifle to try to shoot them in their backs before they ro
de into the concealing thickets of mesquite and cedar. Only after the ranch house was well out of sight did he begin to breathe easier.
“We got lucky there, Aaron,” Franklin said from his right. “If these little girls weren’t right there when we needed them.”
“We’d be dead now,” Aaron answered. “I know.”
“I hate hiding behind children,” Elmer said, his voice soft, speaking from behind him.
“Are you going to kill us?” asked the girl Aaron held, turning her head toward him.
“No, sweetie.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said, her tone fierce. “You’re a bad man.”
Aaron chuckled. “I am at that. But I still don’t kill little girls.”
Riding at a swift canter, Aaron led his brothers west through the harsh landscape, always keeping a sharp watch behind them. After a few miles, he spotted a pile of boulders next to a short hill surrounded by prickly pear. A tall thatch of cedar trees clustered at its base.
He reined in and slid down from his saddle. Pulling the girl down, he stood her on her feet. She gazed up at him with large blue eyes as he spoke. “Now, you girls get up there,” he told them as Elmer and Franklin also dismounted to lower their hostages to the ground. “You have plenty of shade to wait till your papa comes. From up there, you can see him coming, and let him know where you are.”
The girl, Aaron guessed her age to be around eight, took her sisters by their hands and hurried with them to the rock formation. He watched them wriggle through the prickly pear and climb up, then seat themselves in the shade. The littlest child began to cry again as Aaron and his brothers remounted.
“Will they be safe?” Elmer asked as they trotted away, casting worried glances over his shoulder as the girls and the hill fell behind.
“Their pa will find them,” Aaron replied. “We left a trail a blind man could follow.”
“Unless the coyotes find them first,” Elmer replied grimly.
Chapter Ten
Freshly washed, his long black hair brushed back and tucked under his hat, his dusty boots newly shined, Tyler stood on the Quinn’s front porch. Olivia had told him that Charlene would be out soon, ready for him to escort her to church services. He gazed out over Bandera as he waited, observing the townsfolk headed toward the church and its tolling bell.
“Sorry for making you wait.”
Turning, he found Charlene emerging from the front door, instantly sweeping his hat from his head. For a moment, words he might have replied stuck in his throat. Her large hazel eyes smiled up at him, her red hair hanging loose to flow like a silken river down her back. Charlene wore a white gown trimmed in pink lace and had pinned a small hat with pale pink flowers atop her head.
“Uh, that’s quite all right,” he stammered, his voice loosened at last. “May I say you are the most beautiful young lady I think I have ever laid eyes on.”
Charlene lowered her eyes, flushing a color that matched her flowers exactly. “Thank you, Tyler. That is very kind of you to say.”
“Not kind, ma’am. Honest.”
Putting his hat back on his head, Tyler extended his arm to her. “Perhaps we should head to church?”
“Of course.”
Having long since learned to ignore the attention he received from women, Tyler felt no little shock when he observed the lightning glances of jealousy and ire that were shot toward Charlene. Strolling to the church amid the other people, Charlene’s hand resting lightly on his arm, several of the young females who tended to follow him when he was in town glared at her, then swiftly altered their nasty expressions when they caught his eye.
Concerned for her, Tyler glanced down into Charlene’s face, hoping she hadn’t noticed. She gave him a small quirky grin, her eyes sparkling in the sun. “I expect I’m not very popular these days.”
“I apologize if this bothers you.”
She waved her free hand airily. “Don’t be absurd. If they wish to vent their spleens, they know where to find me.”
Tyler chuckled. “I expect they’ll keep their opinions to themselves, Charlene. You can be rather formidable when you want to be.”
Ambling into the church, Tyler removed his hat and sat down with her in a pew. The two widowed biddies that helped her home the day she was attacked waved to them cheerily, and Charlene waved back. “Sweetest old things,” she murmured to him, “but they are such terrible gossips.”
“I expect every town has to have a few of them,” he replied, glancing around at the almost filled church.
The Maple family, sitting across the aisle from them, also waved to them, their young boys gazing curiously. Returning the warm gestures, Tyler asked, “Would you like to ride out with me today? Maybe pay a visit to my ranch?”
Charlene lowered her hand, her body growing still. She didn’t answer immediately, making Tyler fear she would say no. He held his breath, willing her to say yes. At last, she nodded, giving him a swift glance and a smile. “I would like that. Very much.”
“Good. After service, I’ll get a horse from the livery stable.”
Only half listening to the preacher, Tyler stole many glances at Charlene. Where she was concerned, his will power vanished, and he could not stop himself from admiring her exceptional loveliness as well as her fire and strength of personality. Slender as a willow branch, but tougher than an old oak root, Charlene captivated him, brought forth feelings from deep within him he had not felt for a long time.
Once the service was over, he and Charlene, again subjected to the hot stares of her rivals, stood outside the church with the Maples and Victor. Mrs. Maple held an almost constant secret smile over her features as they chatted, her sons dashing off to play with their friends. Yet, Victor’s scowl might have turned the bright, hot sunshine to dark thunderclouds.
“I can’t find them Miller boys anywhere,” he complained, a purple and black bruise covering the left side of his head and face. “Their ma ain’t seen them for days.”
Harold nodded, offering a slight shrug. “What did you expect? After their father took off, Mrs. Miller is trying to raise them alone. She can’t control them.”
“Yup,” Victor agreed. “Them boys are like a pack of coyotes, always starting trouble for someone.”
“They’ll come back eventually,” Mrs. Maple said. “They have no other place to go.”
“Maybe they took off for the hills.” Victor touched the side of his head, wincing. “Best thing for this town if they don’t.”
Mrs. Maple huffed. “Sheriff, they are still only boys. They can be redeemed.”
“Huh.” Victor’s skeptical expression told Tyler what he thought of that notion. He glanced at Tyler. “You up for a beer anytime soon?”
“I’m taking Charlene out for a ride this afternoon,” Tyler replied, observing Mrs. Maple’s smile widen. “Maybe after.”
“Dang foolish to be riding in this heat. Me, I’m gonna take a nap. This sun is frying my brains. Ladies.”
Tipping his hat, Victor hooked his thumbs in his belt and ambled off down the dusty street. Mrs. Maple gave Charlene a quick hug. “You two have fun.”
“We will,” Charlene answered, taking Tyler’s arm once more.
“You are not concerned about riding with me without an escort?” Tyler asked, curious, as he walked her back to her house. He found it interesting that neither the Maples nor Victor were the least bit worried about Charlene’s safety while alone with him.
She peered up at him, a small mysterious smile playing around her mouth. “Were you planning to commit violence upon my person?”
Shocked, Tyler blurted, “No, of course not.”
“I expect I have no need for a chaperone, then.”
Tyler grinned, shaking his head. “You are a remarkable lady, Charlene.”
“No,” she replied. “I think I’m a decent judge of character.”
Leaving her at her house to change her clothes and inform her mother where they were going, Tyler strode to the livery s
table where he passed the livery owner six bits to rent a horse for Charlene. After saddling both his own bay and the small gray mare the stableman led out to him, Tyler then rode back to her house.
He discovered both Charlene and Olivia awaiting him on the porch, Charlene now garbed in a dark gray skirt, divided for riding, and a white sunbonnet. She had braided her hair into a long rope that fell to her hip, her small, slender body still fascinating him. Olivia offered him a shy smile, once again amazing Tyler with her trust in him.
An Unconventional Bride For The Rancher (Historical Western Romance) Page 9