Montana Courage (McCutcheon Family Series Book 9)

by Caroline Fyffe

  “We don’t have all night, Scott,” Shad snapped. “Help me out here.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Shad glanced up at her. “Can you keep the horse steady? So far, this isn’t working,” he added in a calmer tone, but frustration simply seeped from his body.

  The storm was so cold now, she couldn’t remember what warmth felt like. The gelding’s crest, ears, and rump were covered in snow, and she imagined her head was, as well. All she wanted to do was get out of here. The place was a death trap.

  Again, the horse stepped sideways, and Oscar slumped to his knees.

  “Poppy,” Shad bit out.

  “I know,” she shot back.

  His gaze was filled with purpose. She didn’t want to be caught here either. She had a life to live, she thought, nodding with determination when Shad looked at her again. Her chest filled with possibilities—possibilities of a life with Shad. The way she felt right now, she didn’t ever want to be without him.

  “There.” Shad shoved Oscar’s boot in the stirrup and pushed him from behind.

  Poppy, an expert rider, kept pressure with her offside leg, as well as pressing the gelding with her heel—hard. She wouldn’t mess this up.

  Halfway up, Oscar grasped the back of the saddle with one hand and the saddle horn with the other. Taking what seemed like an eternity to throw his leg over. He was finally aboard.

  Deep growls brought her and the men around. Shad stood vulnerable at the horse’s side. Six or seven wolves slunk forward, growling and baring their teeth. The gelding still caught in the harness snorted in fear and thrashed with all his strength, kicking out behind at nothing, crazy with a desire to run free.

  Poppy sucked in a breath. “The wolves! They’re coming!”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Oscar cried. “What’re you waiting for, Poppy? Get moving up the hill.”

  Shad drew his gun and the pack scattered. A few pulled back into the snow-covered brush while others ran to the right and left, essentially surrounding them. They weren’t gone for good.

  Shad gave her a quick glance. Something in his expression pierced her heart.

  “Can you keep him aboard if the two of you ride out of here? I need to cut the horse free.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she cried.

  Behind her, Oscar straightened. She felt his arm tighten around her waist.

  “Listen to him, Poppy. He knows what’s best. He’s protecting you.” Oscar grasped for the reins.

  Poppy brought the butt of the rifle down on his hand, mashing it between the gun’s stock and the saddle horn.

  The gelding pranced in fear, and Shad stepped back.

  “You witch,” Oscar blurted. He jerked away his hand and shook out the pain.

  The horse snorted, pawing the snow.

  “You’ve never had any class. What was I thinking to follow you to Y Knot? The worst mistake of my life.”

  “Just be quiet, Oscar. I swear, I’ll dump you before I leave Shad.” Poppy glared over her shoulder. “Believe it, or suffer the consequences. I couldn’t care less what you think of me.” She nodded to Shad. “Cut the horse free.” She lifted the rifle to her shoulder as she kept a hold on the reins, pointing it at the last spot they’d seen the wolves. “I’ll cover you. I may not hit anything, but I’ll scatter them. We’re getting out of here together, or not at all.”

  Withdrawing a pocketknife, Shad trudged over to the injured horse, speaking to the animal in soft tones. First, he cut away the secondary leathers, so the horse would still feel constrained and not struggle, thinking it was free when it wasn’t. When Shad pulled off the headpiece, the livery horse tried to surge forward, eager to be away.

  “Hold tight to your horse,” Shad called over his shoulder. “When this one runs, yours will want to bolt too.”

  “Go on. I’m ready,” she responded.

  After two quick slashes with the knife, Shad cleared the lines, and the gelding was finally free. Discovering this, the horse took two testing steps and then snorted, flung his head to the side, and galloped up the hill toward the road.

  Just as Shad had predicted, the gelding she rode reared and tried to bolt, but Poppy held him tight.

  “Whoa, now,” she said in a soothing voice. She felt Oscar’s animosity burning from behind, as well as his panicked grip around her waist. Would he really abandon the man who’d come to their rescue?

  Shad was again by her side. “Let’s go. Maybe we can make it all the way back to the hotel. I’d like to try.” He scanned the area again, and then began his climb with the horse prancing by his side.

  Poppy kept an extra-sharp watch on the trees, which was difficult through the heavy snowfall. Were the wolves gone, following the sleigh horse? Or were they prowling only a few yards away, waiting to attack?

  She shivered, glancing down at Shad, so vulnerable on the ground as he trudged through the snow. He was a prime target. Steeling her nerves, she hefted the rifle in her arms, determined not to let any more misfortune happen today.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  The door suddenly opened. A gust of freezing air and a flurry of snow rushed inside the house.

  Chance came through the threshold, looking much like a snowman. After closing the door, he bent, unstrapped the snowshoes from his feet, and stepped out of the them. His face was totally crusted with ice. When Margaret didn’t rise or say anything, he looked up at her in question, a dark shadow passing over his eyes.

  His gaze darted to the bedroom and then back to her. “Margaret?”

  So much happiness swirled inside Margaret, she couldn’t speak. She just dropped her gaze to the warm bundle in her arms.

  For several long seconds, Chance gaped. He took one small step in her direction before stopping. He stripped off his snow-caked coat with trembling hands, let it fall to the floor, and then peeled off his gloves. After scrubbing the snow from his face, he was by her chair next to the fire in three large strides.

  Dropping to one knee, Chance slowly lifted the soft blanket that kept the baby concealed. His breath jerked before he raised his anxious gaze up to Margaret’s face. “Evie?”

  The word held all the sentiment existing in the world. Margaret hadn’t meant to be cruel, and now she realized how this looked.

  “Sleeping. She did a fine job. You should be proud.”

  Relief washed over his face, and his eyes instantly filled with moisture. Margaret had never seen the cowboy display such tenderness.

  He held out his arms. “May I?”

  “Of course. Don’t you want to know what it is?”

  Margaret couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny pink face, eyes closed in slumber after the long first feeding. She was smitten. Bringing this babe into the world had been the most spiritual and joyful moment of her life. She’d never felt so close to God. He’d been there with her every moment, his comforting hand on her shoulder, his wise words whispered into her ear.

  Chance’s deep chuckle brought a smile to her face.

  “I was so surprised by the birth, I forgot about that. Is my child a boy or a girl?”

  “You have a handsome son, Mr. Holcomb. As bright and beautiful a baby as I’ve ever seen.” To hand him over, Margaret stood, as did Chance. She carefully transferred the precious bundle into his large arms.

  For a moment, the baby’s eyes opened and he looked up into his father’s face, the outer edge of his tiny lips pulling up.

  Chance chuckled again before he sought out Margaret’s gaze. “He’s so small. I can hardly feel him.”

  “He’s early. A month or two will pass before he fits into the cradle you built.”

  “Can I see Evie?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion. He didn’t even flinch when a tear escaped his left eye.

  “Absolutely. She’s anxious for you to be home. She’s been worried about the snow.” Margaret frowned and lifted one eyebrow. “And so was I. A fine day you picked to go for a visit.”

  She led the way to the bedroom door,
quietly turned the knob, and peeked inside. Evelyn was awake, staring out the window. Guessing what she was thinking about wasn’t difficult. Her hair, still matted from the delivery, was stretched out on the pillow around her sweet, fatigue-lined face.

  Margaret must have made a noise, because Evelyn turned to the door.

  “Come in,” she said softly. “I miss my little man. Where is he? In his cradle?”

  Stepping back, Margaret let Chance enter carrying the infant.

  Evelyn’s eyes widened, and a smile burst onto her face. “Chance,” she said on a whispered word of adoration. “You’re home.”

  He came forward and bent to kiss her for several long moments. When they finally parted, he said, “Darlin’, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

  Excited, Evelyn pushed to a sitting position, and Margaret rushed over to help. Once Evelyn was settled, Chance sat on the edge of the bed, staring down into the blanket he held.

  So much love flowed between the couple, Margaret could only stare as tears trickled down her face.

  “What do you think?” Evelyn asked, reaching forward to finger the few strands of light brown hair.

  “That he’s mighty small. I’m afraid he’ll break when I hold him.”

  Evelyn beamed with pride. “He’ll grow and be as tall and large as his daddy.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Chance replied, nodding and glancing over at Margaret. “And you delivered him? All alone? The one thing you didn’t want to do.”

  Well, not exactly alone. “That’s right. I can say now, the delivery was the most wonderful moment of my life. But at the time, not so much.”

  The three laughed.

  “For now, I’ve made up a small bed out of one of the drawers in my bedroom,” she added. “He gets lost in the cradle. I’m still waiting to hear what you’ll call him.” She couldn’t stop from reaching out to caress the baby’s tender cheek with the back of her finger. “He and I have had time to get acquainted, but we haven’t been formally introduced. He likes my rocking and singing, though.”

  Chance looked into Evelyn’s eyes. “Are we still set with what we decided? You’ve changed your mind more times than I can count.”

  “That’s my prerogative as his mother.” She laughed. “But yes, I like what we picked.”

  Leaning forward, Chance kissed the baby’s cheek. “His name is Garth Davenport Holcomb.”

  The dedication to Estelle made Margaret suck in an emotional breath. In a rush of love, she smiled, and her gaze sought out Evelyn.

  “Your mother would be very touched you picked her family name.” She leaned forward and kissed her goddaughter’s forehead, and then she returned her attention to the tiny babe in Chance’s arms. “I’m pleased to meet you, Garth Davenport Holcomb,” she whispered. “You’re a balm to this woman’s heart.”

  Evelyn took Margaret’s hand when she began to back away. “I want my mother to be a part of my life.” She glanced at Chance. “Our lives. Always, even if in spirit only. If the baby had been a girl, we intended to name her Estelle Margaret.”

  Garth interrupted the touching moment by squishing up his face and letting out a very boisterous shriek for someone so small. His small legs pushed out, and his head turned toward Chance.

  “I think he’s hungry again.” Evelyn reached for the bundle Chance willingly held out.

  Margaret stepped quietly to the door, extremely moved by Evelyn’s acknowledgment. “Now that you’re home, Chance, I’ll happily see to supper, and the pork roast I meant to put on hours ago. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll have a celebratory dinner whipped up soon.”

  She didn’t think anyone even heard, as both new parents were bent over the bundle held close to Evelyn’s chest. Their heads almost touched, and the murmur of soft, inaudible sentiments filled Margaret with love and sent her on her way with a grateful heart.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Relief washed through Shad when they reached the road. He couldn’t help a small smile when he glanced at the lantern on the wispy bough, still burning after all this time. He went over, untied the knot, and carried it along. If they kept moving at this rate, they’d make it back to town within an hour. Thankfully, the snow had stopped, at least for now.

  “What?” Poppy asked through chattering teeth. She was hunched forward, weighted from behind by Scott’s bulky frame. Her whole body shivered, but a sparkle shone in her eyes that he couldn’t deny. “I see you smiling at something, Shad Petty. Tell me what.”

  They made their way slowly down the middle of the road. Night had fallen, and the white snow’s reflection was their only light.

  “Just thinking how smart you were to hang out the lantern,” he replied, lifting it high. “I’d never have found you otherwise.” He shook his head in amazement. “And how brave too. Fighting with wolves. You’re pretty gutsy, for a girl.”

  “For a girl, huh?” Her voice was infused with affection.

  “For anyone.” He gestured to Scott behind, who had his head turned away, as it had been since they’d reached the road and begun the ride to town.

  She softly laughed. “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment. I’ve never been praised for my courage before.”

  Scott turned their way and looked down at Shad. “Can you stop the cooing banter until we get back? I’m not feeling so well, and listening is making me sicker than I already am.”

  Poppy laughed into the still, white countryside.

  He looked at her again, liking what he saw. This trip west had set her free from the constraints of her upbringing; that was a fact. The blinders were off her bridle, and she was getting set to run free. If Shad had been a help for that, he was glad.

  “Shad, I was thinking,” she began, and then jerked back, pulling up the rifle. “Look out!”

  She fired, but not before one of the two charging wolves reached him.

  The animal knocked him to the ground, its snapping, biting jaws close enough for him to smell its rotted breath. Shad’s head hit the ground hard, but he dared not let himself black out. With as much strength as he could muster, he held back the wolf with both hands around the animal’s shoulders, his fingers buried deep in the predator’s scruff.

  He heard shouting in the background but couldn’t make out the words. The wolf had the advantage. Sharp fangs tore at his clothes. He kept his arms up, shoving the wolf away as it lunged in again. He couldn’t even get to his gun. Desperate, he brought up his legs, placed his feet on his attacker’s chest, and pushed with all his might. If he drew fast enough, he’d have one instant to get off a shot. If he missed, he’d be ripped to shreds in front of Poppy.

  Crack. Crack.

  The wolf fell from his crouched position as he prepared to leap for Shad’s throat. He lay motionless not five feet away.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  His Poppy had shot straight and true, slaying a hundred-pound wolf before it killed him. She saved his life. Well, not his Poppy. Shad knew that. But he was still shaken, which made it difficult to think clearly.

  They’d reached Y Knot safely, where Kathryn and Tobit had showed up at the hotel in a panic about Poppy’s whereabouts. Amidst all the commotion of the reunion, and feeling antsy from all of Poppy’s warm looks, Shad felt it best if he got back to the ranch, where he belonged. He quietly exited the hotel’s back door, collected his horse and headed for home.

  With a deep sigh of relief and thankfulness to still be alive, Shad limped into the familiar surrounds of the bunkhouse. He was pleased to be there, but nothing would ever feel the same again. Gone were his happy-go-lucky days. Past was his youth. He’d fallen hard for Poppy Ford, even though she was miles above him in social class. Him only half a man, without the ability to give her the life she deserved. He might as well get used to the feel of his battered heart, because the hurt wasn’t going away anytime soon, if ever.

  “Shad.”

  Blinking in surprise, he stumbled to a halt at the sight of Tanner and Nick playing cards a
t the table, a cup of coffee at each spot as if they’d been living here for years. They stood and greeted him with strong hugs.

  “Boys,” he said, excitement filling his chest. “When did you arrive?”

  Tanner looked at Nick. “’Bout six days ago, I reckon.”

  His brother’s crooked smile chased away Shad’s sadness over his plight with Poppy. Life would be good again—someday. He’d just take some doing to remember that fact from time to time.

  “That’s right,” Lucky said, ambling over. “These two polecats have been eating me out of house and home.” He gave Shad a good up-and-down perusal. “I think you need a bath. You want me to heat some water?”

  Shad had never bathed here at the ranch, just now and then in town at the bathhouse. “Where would one do that?” he asked suspiciously.

  “In my private quarters. Don’t worry; I won’t come in.”

  “In that case, yes, I’d be much obliged.”

  Both his brothers laughed. “Tell us what you’ve been doing in town so long. We was getting to think you weren’t ever coming home,” Tanner, the younger of the two, said.

  His brown gaze held mounds of affection, causing a wide smile to break out on Shad’s face. He released the worry that had nagged his mind for days.

  Nick winked. “Not that we’d mind if you didn’t. Leaves more of Lucky’s cooking for us.”

  Shad grasped them both by a shoulder and squeezed. “I see the tide has already turned against me. So much for family loyalty.”

  Poppy searched her mind for a way to start this conversation with Kathryn. She’d tried yesterday, when Kathryn and Tobit had first showed up at the hotel. But the talk centered on the wolves, of Oscar’s bumped head and dizziness, of their daring escape—then that led to the roof collapsing in at the hotel, Miss Aubrey, and the Sangers—and the adorable children. So much had happened in such a short amount of time.