The Rancher's Perfect Bride

by Caroline Clemmons

  “You’ll learn quickly. Venice Jordan is an expert. Fortunately, Jenny was already working here and showed us how to put by food. You don’t have a housekeeper?”

  “No, nor likely to I imagine. But I’m strong and willing to learn. I also want to make rugs and I notice yours are very nice.”

  Edwina beamed and scuffed a toe across the one on which their chairs rested. “I made this one and more throughout the houses. Charity and Amelia helped, of course. You come over one day and I’ll show you the fastest way to make them.”

  “I’d love to. We don’t have any rugs and need several. They should add warmth as well as make the house more welcoming.”

  “They do.” Edwina patted her arm. “Excuse me, I see Jenny motioning to me. I’ll talk to you later.”

  By six, the barn was up and had a roof. There were no stalls yet, but there was a loft. Zenobia joined the women cleaning the floor and setting out food on tables that were arranged along one wall.

  Six musicians set up at one end of the new barn. A man and a woman who appeared to be married each brought out a violin. A jolly-looking older man picked up a concertina. Two cowboys strummed guitars and another tuned a banjo.

  Callum came by and grabbed her by the waist. He’d changed from his work shirt into a clean, better one. His hair was wet and slicked back.

  “You ready to dance, Mrs. McFadden?”

  “With you, Mr. McFadden. This has been a wonderful day. I’ve met so many nice people. Venice Jordan is coming over Tuesday to teach me some things. Edwina Murdoch invited me to come here so she can show me how to make rugs.”

  “Great news, I’d sure like some rugs spread around our home.”

  She leaned in near. “Amanda Kincaid said there’s an epidemic of fertility, so Marcy and I are hoping we catch the epidemic.”

  “So am I.” He offered a wide grin and swung her off her feet and in a circle.

  The musicians broke out with a polka. Callum set her down and led her to join the other couples dancing. Zenobia was surprised that even the expectant mothers were dancing.

  Except for Charity, that is, whose time must be only days away. She sat at the side, laughing and tapping her feet to the music. Logan stayed beside her, holding her hand, looking at her often, and whispering to her.

  Dance after dance left Zenobia breathless. She excused herself to go to the privy.

  “Shall I escort you?” Callum asked.

  “No, get a plate of food and include a piece of chicken for me. I’ll be right back and help you eat.”

  He laughed and headed to the food tables. She slipped from the barn toward the new privy at the back.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Zenobia finished her business in the privy and hurried to join her husband. From behind, a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm locked around her waist. She bit and kicked but the man who had her was strong as a goliath.

  He hissed, “Less you want your man shot, you quiet down.”

  Terror claimed her but his threat ended her struggles.

  “That’s better.” He gagged her then tied her hands and legs. “Your stepfather didn’t like you runnin’ out on him.”

  She recognized him as Tyrone Winston, one of the burly guards her stepfather kept employed to patrol the grounds and carry out his errands. If Winston didn’t kill her, she was destined for an insane asylum. As soon as they were clear of the people he might harm, she had to get away from this man.

  He tossed her into the back of a wagon and covered her with a blanket that smelled worse than a privy. She lay in the dark, trying to come up with a plan. The wagon bounced along as if it went across prairie instead of on roads.

  That was crazy, though, because there were fences where it couldn’t pass. She had no sense of the direction they traveled. Tied as she was she had no way to stabilize herself. She already ached from the bumps that bounced her against the wagon bed.

  How long before Callum missed her? How would he know what happened to her? He would have no idea she needed rescuing or which way to look.

  After a while, the wagon stopped and she heard the man get something from the wagon bed. Listening, she thought he might be cutting fence wire. What a terrible thing to do to a rancher.

  Something clanged near her feet and the wagon rocked from him climbing onto the seat. She heard him snap the reins and the wagon moved again.

  Thank heavens her hands were tied in front of her and not behind. She pulled the nasty blanket from her face and saw another blanket bundle beside her. When she jerked at the covering, the wide-eyed face of Marcy stared at her.

  Although she couldn’t stick her hand into her pocket, she could grip the revolver she carried through the cloth. When they stopped, Winston was in for a surprise.

  ***

  Jack Boyd ran into the barn and up to Travis. “Papa, a man stole a woman.”

  Travis knelt to listen to his stepson. “Slow down. How do you know he stole her and that she didn’t decide to go with him?”

  “He put a gag on her and tied up her hands and feet and tossed her in back of a wagon. Then he threw a blanket over her. There was already something covered with a blanket and wiggling back there.”

  Callum glanced around. Where was Zenobia? “Jack, think what she looked like. Was she the woman who danced with me?”

  “Yes, sir, I don’t know her name but I saw her ride in on your wagon.”

  Callum yelled, “Andrew, someone’s kidnapped Zenobia and maybe someone else.”

  His brother came running. “I can’t find Marcy.”

  A dozen other men surrounded them.

  Logan called, “Men, let’s saddle enough horses for several of us to go. The rest stay here to protect the women and children.”

  Sean Murdoch pointed at his brother. “You stay here because Charity is about ready to deliver.”

  Kevin Murdoch raised his hands. “This is a terrible time for Kincaid’s father and father-in-law to stay home. Sean’s right and we don’t all need to go charging after this culprit. Too many of us would create a problem in itself. Callum, Andrew, and several other men without babies or expectant wives come with me.”

  He strode to the next barn where his ranch hands were saddling horses.

  A white-haired man mounted his horse. “Boss, let Judd, Elmo, and me go with the McFadden brothers and their hands and you stay here with Miss Edwina. You’re the host after all.”

  Callum took a horse from one of the Murdoch men. “I’m leaving. You can decide among yourselves who comes.”

  Pete called, “We’re with you, boss.”

  He was aware his brother rode beside him and their hands were along, but he didn’t know or care who else came. The wagon wheels left prints but as soon as they were away from the ranch headquarters, the trail disappeared in the dark. Even with an almost full moon, seeing the trail was difficult.

  Callum got down and led his horse and walked in the rut left by the wheels. “Now’s when we could use Zenobia’s wolfdog.”

  Andrew did the same. “We’ll find them. From what Marcy said I reckon the stepfather is behind this.”

  “Zenobia said he’s a vindictive man. Threatened to send her to an insane asylum if she didn’t marry the man he’d chosen.”

  “Marcy told me. The man the stepfather chose is a lecher she avoided and she wouldn’t let catch her alone. Also said stepfather has so-called guards working for him, some of whom patrol the grounds. Why would a legitimate business man in Atlanta need armed guards?”

  “Good question and I doubt he’s legitimate. Dadgummit, at this rate, we’ll be far behind the wagon. Who knows what the kidnapper intends to do with our wives?”

  “You know a man like her stepfather will want them back in Atlanta so he can mete out their punishment in person. Keep that thought. They may not enjoy the trip, but they’ll survive while we catch up with them.”

  “Looks like he’s headed straight for Doyle. I don’t know how he intends to get across the river. De
ar Lord, I hope he doesn’t try to float the wagon across.”

  “You’re borrowing trouble, big brother. Dang, he’s cut the fence.”

  Judd Washington, one of the Murdoch hands, rode forward. “If that don’t beat all. Elmo and I can makeshift this with rope until tomorrow. Who knows what else the sidewinder plans to destroy?”

  Max rode beside Callum. “Boss, what if Brand and I ride to Doyle pronto? We’ll beat a wagon by a lot and can start working back this way.”

  Callum looked at his best worker. “That’s a good idea. Be careful, though. Jack said there was only one man but he may be meeting someone else there or on the way, maybe even the stepfather.”

  Andrew called, “Tex, the stepfather’s name is B-E-V-E-R-I-D-G-E, Jim Beveridge. You and Sandy go with Max and Brand and keep your eyes peeled. I’d wager the stepfather is in Doyle.”

  The four men rode away at a gallop.

  Having Zenobia and Marcy at the mercy of some owl hoot made Callum’s throat close. Focusing on the narrow wheel track, his chest was so tight he could barely breathe. He wanted to scream, to hit something but he kept walking and watching the ground.

  The moon didn’t offer enough light to illuminate more than a foot or two ahead. Callum walked more by feel than eyesight. This method was taking much too long. How could he accomplish the chase faster?

  “Pete, judge how we’ve come and ride a straight line to the next fence. See if you can find where it’s cut or if the tracks turned.”

  “I’m there.” Pete rode ahead.

  In what was probably a short time but seemed to Callum hours, Pete returned. “I seen where the next cut’s made. Has to be headed for Doyle.”

  Callum and Andrew mounted and the group rode to the cut fence Pete had found. From there, they repeated the process again and again. Walking the trail again toward morning as his frustration grew unbearable, he thought he heard the creak of a wagon.

  Callum held up his hand to stop so he could listen at the same time his brother made the same motion. Sure enough, the sound of harness’ jingle and wheels creaking was clear in the night air. The blowing of a horse reached him so they couldn’t be far behind the kidnapper. How could they surround the wagon without endangering Zenobia and Marcy?

  He and Andrew consulted with a couple of the older riders.

  Whitey Archer, another of the Murdoch ranch hands, offered, “I can take some men and backtrack then ride wide and get in front of the wagon.”

  They decided three would be a good number—enough the kidnapper wouldn’t be likely to pick them off but not so many to be a threat.

  Callum kept his voice low, “Whitey, if he was at the dance and saw you, he’ll remember your hair. Yours is a real good idea, but let someone else go.”

  Callum and Andrew put an oat bag over each of their horse’s nose to keep them quiet. The men with him did the same. Each of them walked along the wagon rims’ depressions as quietly as possible.

  As they crested a rise, Callum caught the faint shape of the wagon below. Resisting the urge to charge after his wife took all his control. He didn’t know the temperament of the kidnapper and couldn’t take a chance he would shoot Zenobia or Marcy out of spite.

  Callum told Andrew, “Pass the word to bide our time and drop back so we won’t be skylined at daybreak.”

  Evan Zimmerman, one of the long-time settlers, took out a spyglass and gazed through it before he handed it to Callum with a chuckle. “This is interesting. Wagon’s turning around and heading back this way.”

  Callum put the glass to his eye and broke into a grin. “Durned if you’re not right. And I see the three riders coming into view too.”

  He mounted and galloped toward his wife and sister-in-law, the others thundering after him.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Zenobia worked at her ropes until her wrists were so chafed they were bleeding by the time she was free. She untied the binding on her ankles and warily pushed the blanket from her. Winston paid her no heed but drove the team over the uneven ground.

  Inching her way to Marcy, she untied her then motioned for her to stay there. Moving forward with all her stealth, she waited until she was almost touching the wagon seat. “Turn this wagon around or I’ll blow a hole right through you.”

  “What—” Winston half-turned on the seat and his eyes widened big as dinner plates.

  “You are a greenhorn to not notice I had a revolver in my pocket. You heard me, Winston, turn the wagon or I swear I’ll shoot a hole right through you. I’m already mad enough to shoot you even if you do what I say.”

  He turned the wagon in a slow half circle. “Now, Miss Stanton, you don’t want to do that. You don’t understand firearms so be real careful with that.”

  “My name is Mrs. McFadden and my husband taught me to shoot. We’re going right back to the Murdoch’s and you’d better not give me any trouble.”

  “Listen, I got to take you to Doyle. You know how Mr. Beveridge can be. He’ll kill me if I don’t deliver you there.”

  “I’ll kill you now if you try. Take your choice.”

  “Please don’t shoot. I only do what he says because if I don’t, he’ll say I stole from him even though I haven’t. You know he would, too. Plus he’d put my parents right out of their home and them in their sixties.”

  “He won’t now because the law will see he spends time in jail.”

  “He had bad plans for you. Your pa left everything to you, see, with your mother as trustee. When she got sick, she signed a paper said he could handle the money.”

  “By now he’s probably spent everything.”

  “Don’t think so, ma’am. Beveridge and the lawyer tricked you into thinking the will left everything to him.”

  Zenobia was angry enough to shoot her stepfather and the lawyer if she saw them. “Those two rats should be the ones who’re tied up.”

  “That there looks like a posse.” He whined, “Please don’t let them string me up. I hear they do that out here to save a trial.”

  “You’d better look friendly then.”

  He bunched his muscles as if he were about to spring from his seat.

  “Don’t try jumping out, you fool. How far do you think you’d get on foot out here?”

  He slumped back onto the seat. “Montana.” He spat in front of him. “I surely hate this place. No buildings, nothing but a few cows for miles and miles. How can people live like this?”

  “You’ll soon be in a building so you won’t have to worry about distances. That’s my husband and his brother leading what you called a posse. I advise you to be real polite to them.”

  Callum, Andrew, and half a dozen others thundered up to the wagon.

  Her husband scooped her from the wagon seat onto his lap and hugged her to him. “We started out to rescue you and Marcy but looks like we came to rescue the kidnapper.”

  “I’ve never been so glad to see you, husband.” She threw her arms around his neck and curled against him. Now that she was safe, she couldn’t stop her tears.

  Through her sobs, she said, “That man is Tyrone Winston and he works for my stepfather. He was taking us to him. Apparently my stepfather is in Doyle.”

  Andrew held Marcy on his lap, talking soothingly to her. She clung to him as if she would never release him. Andrew didn’t appear to mind.

  Whitey and Pete bound Winston’s hands behind his back and tied him to the back of the wagon seat and sitting on the wagon bed.

  Winston protested, “Please don’t string me up. Ask Miss… I mean Mrs. McFadden what her stepfather’s like. I’ve been desperate.”

  Evan picked up an object from the wagon seat. “Looks like a nice compass.” He leaned down into Winston’s face. “Too bad it doesn’t show the river you’d have to cross to get to Doyle. There’s no bridge unless you use the road.”

  “How’d he see that there thing in the dark?” Pete asked.

  Zenobia gestured to the stack of spent matches. “He struck a match long enough to p
eer at the compass.”

  Evan said, “Wonder he didn’t set the grass on fire. Then we would have had to lynch him.” He rolled his eyes at Callum and Zenobia to let them know he was just scaring Winston.

  The women returned to the wagon bed while Callum and Andrew tied their horses to the back of the wagon.

  Callum climbed onto the wagon seat. “We’ll take our wives back to Murdoch’s. Sure sorry about the fences.”

  Evan nodded as he mounted his horse. “Worth it to get them back safely. Ought to make this man repair them before we turn him over to the sheriff.”

  “I’ll do anything if you don’t hang me or let Jim Beveridge get to me or my folks.”

  Callum snapped the reins. “You sit there and keep your mouth shut or Andrew and I will stop the wagon and let you know what we think of you manhandling and kidnapping our wives.”

  Winston looked even more worried but he clamped his mouth shut.

  By the time they drove into grounds of the Murdoch home, the sun was up. Zenobia smelled meat cooking as they drove in. “I missed supper and I’ll bet Marcy did too.”

  Marcy rubbed her stomach. “I’m sure hungry, especially since I smelled that food. I could eat as much as a ranch hand.”

  Kevin strutted out to greet them. “Sure glad you found your wives all right. You missed my grandson being born, though. Charity and the boy are both fine.”

  Andrew hopped down. “Congratulations, Kevin. He have a name yet?”

  “Logan after his dad and Kevin after me. Isn’t that something? Gonna call him Vin or Van, they can’t decide which. Don’t want him being called Junior.”

  Striding toward them was Sheriff Dixon. “Hear you did my work for me. Sure glad the women are all right. I’ll take this sidewinder off your hands.”

  Winston looked at Callum and Andrew. “Sheriff, don’t let them two work me over. I was desperate. Jim Beveridge would kill me if I didn’t do what he said plus he’d throw my parents into the street.”

  The sheriff appeared disgusted. “Had a wire from sheriff in Doyle. Beveridge is in jail there so he won’t be harming anyone. I sent a wire to Atlanta and folks there will be looking into his life there.”