Rachel (Bride Brigade Book 5)

by Caroline Clemmons

  Lemuel Gamble caught her elbow to steady her. “Oh, Ma’am, we’ve been holding a long telegram for Mr. Evans. Reckon you can tell him when you see him?”

  “I will. He’ll be back tomorrow but he’s been injured. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to deliver it to him at his home.”

  “I s’pose Ulysses can bring it ’round tomorrow when Evans gets back.” He tipped his hat and kept walking.

  A long telegram? Her roiling stomach threatened to lose its contents and bile rose in her throat. Telegrams meant trouble in her family. A long one was mystifying and might mean big problems.

  She reached Lydia’s and sought her hostess. She knocked on the office door and was told to enter.

  “Did you hear about the wagons being attacked and Ken and Mick shot in the back and Bronco being shot and falling over the edge and Zane shot but still going after Bronco?”

  Lydia laid down her pen. “Take a deep breath and sit down. Adam just left. He and several men are going out at first light to rescue them.”

  “Lupe Alvarez, that’s Bronco’s wife, is riding in the wagon.” Rachel took a deep breath. “Lydia, I want to go also. Will that upset you?”

  “Of course not.” She leaned back in her chair. “Does this mean your feelings for him have increased?”

  “They have.” Rachel sighed. “Rather, I’ve admitted to myself that they’re genuine. I’m afraid that when I tell him my story he’ll lose interest in me.”

  Lydia shook her head slowly. “I strongly doubt that, but if he does isn’t knowing now best?”

  “Yes. I could never accept his proposal without confessing the whole sordid story to him.”

  “Your part wasn’t sordid, Rachel. You acted in good faith and were betrayed. That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”

  She shoved a strand of hair from her eyes. “People don’t see things that way. When he hears I’ve been in prison, he may decide I’m too much of a risk.”

  “Nonsense. Give him a chance and you’ll find he’s a remarkable man.”

  “I agree. I’ve never met anyone like him.” She told her what he had done the night before he left and the music and dancing. “Isn’t that romantic? And considerate.”

  “You’re a fortunate woman to have a man care so deeply for you.” Lydia’s expression had grown harsh. Actually, she looked as if she might cry.

  “Are you all right? Have I upset you?”

  Lydia shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “I had a big argument with Adam. He… well, he thinks he’s not good enough for me.”

  “Oh. Whether or not he is should be for you to decide.”

  Lydia sniffed and offered a wan smile. “I agree. Never mind about me, dear. Do you have an alarm clock?”

  “Yes, and I’ll need to set the alarm. I hope I don’t disturb anyone else. Lupe is spending the night on the bed we made in the wagon so she won’t have to worry about oversleeping.”

  “Get something for your breakfast from the kitchen, enough for your friend too. Mrs. Murphy has jugs of cider in the pantry. Take a couple with you.” Lydia blew her nose.

  “Thank you, Lydia. I’ll check with her now.” Seeing her hostess unhappy after she’d done so much for her and others tugged at Rachel. Lydia deserved happiness more than anyone Rachel knew.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rachel pulled her shawl closer. Although they were into summer, pre-dawn air chilled her skin. She and Lupe sat on folded blankets. The other woman’s face appeared drawn, causing Rachel to wonder if her own anxiety showed.

  Rachel leaned toward Lupe. “Did you get any sleep?”

  Lupe shook her head, her dark hair sliding across her shoulders. “I couldn’t stop picturing Bronco at the bottom of the ravine and wondering how badly he’s hurt. You?”

  “I tossed and turned. Plus, I was afraid I’d set the alarm wrong or that I wouldn’t hear it. I must have checked it a dozen times.”

  Rachel passed out the food sent by Mrs. Murphy.

  Adam smiled and lifted his sandwich as if in a toast. “Sure glad I let you ladies come with us.”

  “There’s some of Mrs. Murphy’s cider and a bucket of cold water.”

  No one spoke as the wagon bumped and jostled up the hill. The sheriff had recruited Vernon Lanigan, the fire chief, and his assistant, Clark Norris. They had piled ropes and other equipment into the wagon. Ronnie and Virgil Dixon, who looked to be close to twenty, were sons of the local bartender. Mr. Dubicki drove the wagon.

  Rachel listened to the men’s conversation.

  Mr. Dubicki glanced at the sheriff. “Figured the doc would come.”

  “He sent instructions, but didn’t think he could leave Mick and Ken. Mick’s in a bad way. Doc sat up with him all night.”

  She and Lupe exchanged worried glances. Rachel sent up another prayer for the injured men.

  One of the Dixon boys—she didn’t know which was which—called, “I can shinny down that cliff. I like climbing rocks.”

  His brother nodded. “He’s good at it, too. Ronnie’s part mountain goat.”

  The sheriff’s gaze appeared to assess the brothers. “So your dad said. You two are just what we need.”

  “Yes, sir, we want to help. I admit Ronnie’s better ‘n me, though.”

  Mr. Lanigan stood in his saddle. “There’s the marker Vic mentioned. This is where the attack happened.”

  Mr. Norris looked behind them. “Keeping those wagons from wrecking took skill. I sure wouldn’t want to stop here. I mean, I know we’re stopping, but no one is shooting at us.”

  The Dixon boys chocked the wheels.

  Lupe crossed herself. “My Bronco fell from here?” She stood in the wagon.

  “Good heavens.” Rachel’s heart lodged in her throat.

  Zane had been injured when he climbed down what looked like an almost straight wall of rock with an occasional small tree or brush growing from the side. The ravine floor appeared at least a hundred yards below. How could Bronco have survived?

  The sheriff took out his spyglass and searched the valley below. Apparently he heard the creak of the wagon because he raised a hand. “Ladies, remember you promised to follow orders. Stay in the wagon.” His tone allowed no room for discussion.

  Guilty of trying to get a better view, Rachel said, “We’re only here to act as nurses until the men can be taken to Doctor Gaston.” Her legs no longer able to support her, Rachel sat back down on the blankets.

  Adam collapsed the spyglass and tucked it into his saddlebag. “That’s right. See you remember that. We have our hands full and don’t need to spend extra time rescuing either of you.”

  Lupe joined Rachel but on her knees, rocking back and forth. Tears ran from the other woman’s eyes. “He has been there all night, hurt. How can he still be alive after such a fall?”

  “Remember he was talking when Zane went after him. And Zane took a bedroll and other things they might need.”

  Rachel knew Zane would let Bronco use the sleeping bag. She prayed Zane reached his friend without further injury. He’d been shot himself—how long could he survive without medical treatment?

  She and Lupe stared at the preparations. Wearing thick gloves, Ronnie Dixon tied a rope to the harness-like contraption he wore and then secured the rope’s free end around a large boulder. Who even kept that much rope on hand?

  With his brother’s help, Ronnie lowered himself over the edge. Rachel lost sight of the young man. Virgil stretched out on his stomach and called back and forth to his brother.

  Virgil called over his shoulder, “He’s spotted them.” Then, he returned to his watch.

  After what could have been thirty minutes or three hours, Virgil hopped up and donned another harness. “Ronnie needs me down there. I gotta go see what he wants me to do.”

  He chose a different giant rock than his brother had and secured his rope. In no time, he was over the edge and the sheriff was lowering him downward. Adam signaled the two firemen and they and Mr. Dubi
cki joined him in hushed conversation.

  Lupe grabbed Rachel’s arm. “What are they saying? Why don’t they want us to hear?”

  Rachel hugged her friend’s shoulders. “They’re just talking. I’m sure they’re not hiding anything. Probably they’re talking about the best way to proceed once Bronco and Zane are up here.”

  Lupe stared with narrowed eyes. “You said we were friends, Rachel. Do not lie to me.”

  Seeking to reassure the other woman, Rachel touched Lupe’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t. I’m sure they’re merely concerned about Bronco’s welfare. To ease your mind, I’ll find out.”

  Rachel went to the other side of the wagon near where the men hovered. “Gentlemen, Mrs. Alvarez is aware you’re talking about her husband and you’re only increasing her anxiety by shutting her out of the discussion.”

  Mr. Dubicki exchanged looks with the sheriff and then came to speak to Lupe. “Ronnie signaled that Bronco broke his leg when he fell. We can see that Zane made your husband a bed on the sand below and has a fire going. Now the boys have to get Bronco up without hurting him further. One of the boys will guide your husband so his leg doesn’t bounce against the rocks.”

  “Gracias.” Lupe sank into a sitting position with her hands gripping the wagon sides.

  “Thank you, Mr. Dubicki.” She turned to Lupe. “See, I told you the truth. They’re planning how to raise him up here. I never knew there was so much rope in one piece, did you?”

  “No, but I thank God that they can use this rope to help Bronco. Aiyee, how will he cope? My Bronco, he is not content to lie in bed. Always he wants to be moving and doing things.”

  “You’ll have your hands full then, keeping him still so he heals. If he’s that determined, no doubt he’ll heal rapidly.”

  Shouting from below reached her ears but she couldn’t understand the words. The firemen hauled one rope while the sheriff and Mr. Dubicki handled the other. Using folded blankets, Rachel made a bed for Zane.

  Adam glanced at the women. “Ronnie’s coming up alongside Bronco to protect him. Means Ronnie’s getting knocked into the rocks pretty bad, but he’s young and strong and I reckon he’ll be okay.”

  Soon they were lifting Bronco and Ronnie up over the edge. Bronco was bundled into the sleeping bag with the rope wrapped around him as if he was in a butterfly’s cocoon.

  Once he was laid out on the road, the men unwound him and lifted him onto the mattress waiting in the wagon. Lupe bent over Bronco with soft words and gentle touches.

  “Lupe.” Bronco’s voice was a gravelly whisper.

  “Sí, but do not try to talk. I have water for you and will help you to drink.”

  Rachel watched the couple whose apparent love bound them. She couldn’t help envying their relationship. Closing her eyes, she prayed for Zane and for his understanding.

  Adam was about to toss the rope over the edge when Ronnie stopped him.

  “I need to tie my harness to the rope so Virgil can use it.” The young man secured the contraption he’d worn to the end of the rope before swinging it out and letting it drop. He watched until satisfied.

  “Virgil’s got one harness on Mr. Evans. Now he can wear the one I sent him and signal when they’re ready to come up here.”

  Ronnie leaned over the precipice. “Now! Bring ‘em up.”

  The four men pulled as if in a tug-of-war. Rachel supposed the effort required their entire concentration and strength. Zane was heavier than Bronco by forty pounds. Sweat beaded on the men’s grim faces.

  How badly was Zane hurt? She only knew he’d been shot. She prayed he was conscious enough that he didn’t bounce against the rock wall as he ascended.

  His hands appeared first then his head and shoulders. The sheriff and Mr. Dubicki lifted him up and he sprawled on the road’s edge with ragged breath. Adam helped Zane rise and stagger toward the wagon.

  Virgil appeared, carrying a rifle. “Zane wouldn’t leave the Henry.” He tossed a canteen to the fire chief.

  Rachel wanted to race to Zane, but she’d promised to stay in the wagon. Her breath caught at the sight of blood that had seeped through his bandages in two places. His tan twill pants were grubby and his shirt torn.

  Adam tried to help him into the wagon, but Zane shrugged away his assistance. “I’m not so gone I can’t climb into a wagon.”

  Then he saw her. His eyes widened and rewarded her as they lit from within. “Rachel?” He fell onto the blankets.

  She knelt beside him, thankful she’d been allowed on the mission. “I hope you don’t mind, Zane. I-I was worried and wanted to help you.”

  He captured her hand and held it to his chest. “Thank you, thank you.”

  When he didn’t release her, she sat beside him.

  His beautiful blue eyes were red-rimmed and pleading. “The men. Mick and Ken? Hit bad?”

  She hated to add to his anxiety but couldn’t lie to him. “Ken and Mick are at Doctor Gaston’s. He sat up all night with Mick.”

  “Shot in the back. Never had a chance to defend themselves, but Mick was able to crawl under the wagon.”

  “Apparently he’s hurt worse than Ken.”

  His brow furrowed. “Vic and Buck?”

  “Guess they weren’t badly hurt. They were unloading freight.” She smoothed her other hand across his brow. “Don’t fret about anything now.”

  “Can’t help worrying. My job to keep everyone safe.”

  From beside them, Bronco’s faint voice came, “No, mine, but you have saved me.”

  Lupe held her husband’s hand in hers and kissed his fingers. “Gracias, Zane. I owe you my life because you bring my Bronco back to me.”

  Adam rode beside the wagon. “Dalton Cole and the men with him had prices on their head. You and your men have quite a reward coming.”

  “My men deserve the bounty for dealing with those yellow-bellied, drygulching polecats.” His voice had grown fainter and his lids fluttered closed but he retained the grasp on her hand.

  Rachel wanted to throw herself on the blankets beside him and cradle him to her. Trying to observe at least a semblance of propriety, she sat with his hand clasped in hers as the wagon rumbled toward Tarnation.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After having his wounds cleaned, stitched, and bandaged, Zane was allowed to go home provided he stayed in bed for the next few days. He slung his arm across her shoulders and leaned on her for support as they proceeded slowly toward his house. They struggled up the steps of the home.

  He unlocked the keyhole while leaning against the door frame. She stepped away, but he reached for her arm.

  His expression beseeched her. “Don’t leave me yet, Rachel.”

  What should she do? She wanted to stay with him, but what would people think? What would Lydia say? “I-I shouldn’t come into your home unchaperoned.”

  Zane repeated, “Please, don’t leave me alone.”

  How could she deny his request? “I won’t. Anyway, when you feel well enough, I have to talk to you about something important.”

  “All that’s important is that you agree to marry me.”

  “No, there’s more, Zane. I have to tell you something bad about my past. When I do, you may decide to withdraw your proposal.”

  “Explain another time. Right now, all I want is to lie down in my home with you near.”

  Commotion came from the walk. “Señor Evans, we have come to help you.”

  They turned to see Mrs. Querado and her brother-in-law, Diego Diaz, bustling up the walk.

  Zane spoke quietly. “Now you have a chaperone. Please stay.”

  Mrs. Querado nodded to Rachel then nudged Zane. “Señor, please go inside. Diego comes to help you undress. I will make you nourishing soup.”

  The man pulled Zane’s arm over his shoulders. “Señor, I know you can do this alone, but do not make me risk Juanita’s wrath.”

  Rachel smiled at the woman, relieved to have help. “I’m Rachel Ross, Mr. Evans’ bookkeeper.”
<
br />   “Sí, and I am Juanita Querado. You must call me Juanita. This is not the day I work here, but I heard what happened and want to help.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Evans is grateful. He asked me to stay, but I worried because there was no chaperone.”

  A smile lit her face. “Ah, you are a proper young woman, this is good. I will be here as long as Señor Evans needs me. Lola Ramirez will make sure my ladies’ homes are cleaned.”

  Diego came towards them. “He is in bed and asking for Señorita Rachel.” He gave Rachel a slight bow. “He is covered so you need not be afraid to see him. Or to see too much of him.” He walked out chuckling.

  Juanita rolled her eyes. “That man. Still, he allows me to live with him and my sister, so I must be patient.”

  “I don’t know where to go. Could you show me?”

  Juanita slapped her forehead. “What am I thinking? Come this way.”

  She led Rachel down a hallway to a large room. “I will make soup while you are here. He needs nourishment and rest.”

  Zane lay back on a mound of pillows, nothing covering his chest and arms but bandages. On a bedside table were two envelopes that must contain medicine, a glass, and a small water carafe. Seeing his bare chest seemed too intimate, yet Rachel couldn’t stop staring.

  She laid her purse on the dresser as she surveyed the large room. “What an impressive place to recuperate. Magnificent furnishings. Did you get this from Callahan’s Furniture?”

  “Sort of. He ordered it for me.”

  She nodded. “And you delivered all this to his store, and then bought it.”

  He gave a wry smile. “Price of living in a small town.”

  The headboard of the oversized bed rose four feet above his head and ended with a curved rail at the top. The dressing table, washstand, armoire, two bedside tables, and bureau matched. A brown leather wing-back chair was near the open window.

  Walls were soft blue with white trim. Dark blue draperies were open to admit a breeze that fluttered lace panels. A dark blue and red rug covered the floor to within two feet of the walls, revealing the wood beneath.