As they finished packing the food and clothing into saddlebags, the three couldn’t look at their mothers. If they did, they knew what they’d see. A combination of pride and fear. The pride they could handle, but the fear would be harder. They were the strongest women Colin, Quinn, and Brodie knew. Watching as their oldest sons left to follow a primitive emigrant trail, not knowing when they’d return, cut like a knife, although none would let even one tear fall.
Finishing, Colin gazed at his mother before taking the few steps toward her, wrapping her in a fierce hug. “I love you, Ma.”
“Love you, too, Colin. You be safe, and if possible, let us know where you are.” She gave him one more squeeze, then stepped aside, allowing the others to say their goodbyes. All was fine until his nine-year-old sisters, Chrissy and Alana, moved toward him. Their lower lips trembled and their eyes watered before throwing themselves into his waiting arms.
“Do you have to go, Colin?” Alana asked, her voice breaking.
“Aye, lassie. It’s time I brought Sarah here to be my wife. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Both nodded, hugging him with all their strength before he set them aside. “Now, you be brave for Ma and help her. She’ll need both of you now more than ever.”
Nodding, they clung to Kyla, who pulled them to her.
Quinn and Brodie were going through the same ritual several feet away. After several minutes, he tilted his head toward the horses, indicating the time had come to leave.
They took one last look at the people who meant everything to them, then reined their horses around. At first, they rode at a slow pace, none glancing back, not wanting to see the expression on their mothers’ faces.
Approaching the fence line of the last corral, they looked at each other, pulled off their hats, and let loose with the fierce MacLaren war cry, “Creag an Tuirc,” the Boar's Rock, before kicking their horses into a gallop and disappearing down the trail.
Chapter Four
River City, Willamette Valley, Oregon
“Sarah, are you ready?”
“Almost, Ma. Give me a few more minutes.” Sarah finished tying a yellow ribbon in her hair, adjusted her bonnet, and took the stairs to the front door at a quick pace. Checking the mirror one more time, she dashed outside, climbing into the buggy next to Geneen and her youngest sister, Isla. She couldn’t help the excitement she felt.
They were going into town to celebrate her twenty-second birthday and her father said he had a wonderful surprise for her. How she prayed it would be the new horse she’d been asking for since she first spotted the mare at the neighboring Bell ranch. She’d been riding the same old mare since before they arrived in Oregon. Although sweet and dependable, Sarah was more than ready for the challenge of a younger horse.
The one person she didn’t want to see in town was Wes Bell, the son of the wealthy rancher. His requests to court her over the last year had become tiresome, even intimidating. She’d expressed her disinterest numerous times, recommending he find another woman to pursue. Wes had disregarded all her objections, instead increasing his efforts to court her. Sarah’s frustration at his persistence had garnered the interest of her father, which made dealing with the younger rancher more difficult. Dougal MacGregor welcomed the advances of their neighbor, encouraging Sarah to consider his requests. She found it easier to ignore both men.
“This will be so much fun.” Geneen reached over and squeezed her hand. A year younger than Sarah, she looked forward to celebrating her sister’s birthday and their father’s gift.
“I hope my surprise is the mare I’ve been wanting.” Sarah’s face lit up at the thought. Without thinking, she reached a hand into her reticule, fingering the silver and Citrine brooch she was never without. When she turned nineteen, she’d prayed Colin would come for her. Her prayers weren’t answered, although she never lost hope. In her heart, she had no doubt he’d arrive someday, unannounced, and take her to California with him.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Da rode to the Bell Ranch last week.”
“Really?” Sarah’s heart rate picked up, sensing she might indeed be given the mare.
“Aye. Even though I begged, Ma wouldn’t tell me why he rode over there. It has to be the horse, don’t you think?”
“Oh, I hope so.”
It didn’t take long to reach the outskirts of town. Their father had ridden in ahead of them, saying he had to prepare for her surprise. As the buggy stopped in front of the restaurant where they’d be celebrating, Sarah looked around, anxious to see if she could spot her present.
“Are you planning to get down, Sarah?” Her mother, her face a mask, waited near the restaurant steps with Isla.
Taking one more look around, Sarah and Geneen followed her inside, seeing their father at a table in a private alcove near the back. Standing, he pulled her chair out so her back would be facing the entrance.
“I’m glad to see you wore your best dress, Sarah.” Dougal took a sip of the whiskey already in front of him. He had yet to mention her birthday.
Touching the brim of her bonnet, Sarah glanced down at the dress she’d spent hours sewing, dreaming about wearing it for Colin one day. A few minutes later, the food arrived and supper passed in utter silence, her father not saying a word about her birthday.
“Da, when are you going to give Sarah the surprise you promised?” Geneen glanced at her sister, knowing she would never ask.
Casting a glance at the entrance, Dougal’s face tightened. “Any minute now.”
Something about his answer sent a chill through Sarah. Looking toward her mother, anxiety filled her at the pursed lips and icy expression on her face.
“Ah, there he is now.”
He? Sarah thought as she turned to see Wesley Bell come up behind her.
“Wes, glad you could join us. Pull up a chair.” Dougal shook the young man’s hand, then cast a hard stare at Sarah, which she took to be a warning.
Geneen’s response mirrored Sarah’s. Her heart pounded at the sight of Wes, palms growing damp. Wiping them down the skirt of her dress, she sent him a suspicious smile, but his attention was locked on Sarah. Something felt terribly wrong.
“You know Sarah, of course, and my daughters, Geneen and Isla.”
Wes sent them a bland smile. “Of course.” His gaze shifted back to Sarah, his face breaking out in a broad smile. “I understand you’re celebrating your birthday. Congratulations, and may I add how stunning you look tonight, Miss MacGregor.”
Sarah’s stomach tightened as she squirmed in her chair. Feeling sick, she nodded, not offering any other reply as he settled in his chair next to her. Feeling his leg touch hers, she moved away, putting as much distance between them as possible in such a tight space.
“Wes asked to join us tonight, Sarah, specifically asking to be allowed to sit next to you.” Dougal ignored the shock on Sarah’s face, not caring how uncomfortable she looked.
Both girls shot looks at their mother, but Robena kept her eyes focused on the vase of flowers in the middle of the table, offering no support. As awareness of their father’s intentions shot through both of them, Geneen reached her hand toward Sarah, who grasped it tight.
“I’d hoped to arrive in time for supper, but a group of wayward cows took longer to round up than I’d thought.” He let his appreciative gaze once again wander over Sarah, who flinched at his unconcealed attention.
“Well, you’ve made it for the important part.” Dougal narrowed his gaze at Wes, nodding once.
Clearing his throat, Wes reached over and placed his hand over Sarah’s, tightening his hold when she tried to snatch it away. A look almost of pity passed over his face, replaced by unquestionable resolve.
“Your father and I have spoken of you many times, Sarah. For a long time, you’ve known of my interest in you, as well as our fathers’ desire to join our two ranches. Your father’s concern, and mine, has always been for your happiness.” Feeling her squirm under his unwavering gaze, he hurried to conti
nue. “Yesterday, we came to an understanding.”
No, no, no! her mind screamed as panic rose in her chest.
“I offered for your hand in marriage, and your father accepted.”
Geneen’s gasp matched the jolt she felt at Wes’s words. Sending one more look toward her mother, her heart sank, realizing she’d known of her husband’s dreadful action and did nothing to warn Sarah.
Shock vibrated through Sarah. Turning the chair over in her haste to stand, she wrenched her hand from his grip, taking several steps back, shaking her head. Glaring at her father, then sending a withering look toward Wes, she moved backward, her face contorted in disbelief.
Steeling herself while casting a contemptuous look at her father, Sarah forced her voice to sound calm. “Your request for my hand is noted, Mr. Bell. Unfortunately, I’m already betrothed.”
She would have laughed at the look of horror on Wes’s face, except at the same moment, her father threw his napkin on the table and stood, eyes bulging in anger.
“You will not dishonor me, Sarah. The request of MacLaren was refused, no matter your wishes. You will wed Wesley Bell and no other.” His attempt at lowering his booming voice failed. It echoed throughout the restaurant, surprising the other patrons.
The only couple who showed any sympathy sat several tables away, their faces awash in understanding. Reverend and Mrs. Olford had always been wonderful to her and Geneen. Besides her sister, Sarah had shared her acceptance of Colin’s proposal with two others, the Olfords, who promised to keep her secret.
Face burning, she lifted her chin in defiance. “Nae, Da. I will never marry Wes Bell or any man other than Colin MacLaren. It is a promise I made and it shall be kept.” Lifting her skirt, she rushed from the restaurant, running down the street, oblivious to where she headed. All Sarah knew was her life in her father’s house had ended with his deceitful, selfish decision to barter her off as if she were another of his cows. And she had no doubt a barter had been arranged.
Dougal MacGregor never gave away a scrap of wood without some form of recompense in return. He’d never give one of his daughters away without making certain he obtained significant payment.
“Sarah, wait.”
Her breath coming in gulps, Sarah stopped, her hand resting on the side of a building, steadying her shaking limbs. Glancing over her shoulder, she dropped into a nearby bench as Geneen came to a halt beside her. Neither spoke a word for several moments as she took a seat next to Sarah, her own misery as intense as her sister’s.
“I’ll not be returning home.”
Geneen nodded, already accepting a rift had been born that would take a miracle to close. She’d never heard Sarah speak to their da in such a way. The stunned silence around the table when she dashed from the restaurant caught everyone unawares—except Geneen. She’d known of the betrothal and Sarah’s determination to keep her promise to Colin, as well as her hatred of their father’s ways.
“I’ll not go back, either.” Geneen’s calm voice should have reassured Sarah. Instead, it sent another wave of panic through her.
“Nae, Geneen. You cannot make my burden your own. Besides, I’ve no idea where I’ll stay or how I’ll live. We cannot both be in such a state.”
“Sarah?” The soft voice of Mrs. Olford jolted them both. Standing, they faced the reverend and his wife.
“I apologize you had to witness that.” Sarah clasped her hands in front of her.
“Nonsense, my dear. We’ve seen many family disagreements during our time in River City. I’m sure your father is trying to do what’s best for you.” She reached out, taking Sarah’s hands in hers. “The Reverend Olford has already spoken to him and asked he give you time to consider Wes’s proposal. For now, you’ll be going home with us.” Seeing confusion on Sarah’s face, she smiled. “It didn’t take much to guess you wouldn’t want to ride back to the ranch tonight.”
“Never.”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Olford asked.
Sarah lifted her chin, her lower lip trembling as she came to terms with what had to be done. “I’m never going back there. I made a promise and it will be kept, even if I lose my family.” She fingered the brooch in her pocket, then made a quick decision to pull it out and secure it on her dress. From this day forward, she’d wear it proudly instead of hiding the proof of her promise.
“Sarah, dear, you don’t know what you’re saying. It’s understandable you’re upset about how your father and Wes confronted you. No matter how long he’s been pursuing you, any woman would be offended by such a public announcement. However, if you turn your back on them, your father may never let you return. You and Geneen know your father to be one of the most stubborn men ever created.”
“Now, Bessie, we don’t want to judge her father.” The reverend stepped forward, touching his wife’s arm.
“Of course, you’re right,” Mrs. Olford agreed. “Geneen, it would be best if you returned to the restaurant while we take Sarah home. In a few days, I’m sure everyone will be calm enough to discuss Wes’s offer in a more rational way.”
“I’ll ride into town tomorrow to visit you, Sarah, and bring your clothes.” Leaning up, Geneen kissed her sister on the cheek. “All will be well. I’m certain of it.”
Sarah’s grim smile was all the response Geneen received as she left.
“Come, dear. We’ll get you settled, then make tea. Tomorrow will be soon enough to decide what you want to do.”
“Are you certain this is the trail, Colin?” Quinn rode Warrior, his five-year-old stallion, in circles, looking for the landmark Angus had told them about.
Colin didn’t answer as he and Brodie did the same, trying to locate the rock with a whitewashed arrow.
“Here it is.” Brodie slid from Hunter, walking his gelding toward a large boulder hidden by bushes. Pulling them aside revealed a white arrow, the word Oregon crudely written below. “Uncle Angus was right. What say we ride another hour, then camp?”
“We can get an early start tomorrow,” Colin agreed, turning Chieftain northwest.
All on the same day, Colin, Quinn, Brodie, and Blaine had gotten their horses from a local rancher who’d decided to sell his small place and move to Oregon to be closer to his daughter. Angus had negotiated a purchase for the land and animals. It had been a good outcome for everyone.
As the sun fell behind the mountains to the west, they sat around a fire, eating hardtack and jerky. Tomorrow, they’d take a day and hunt for game, hoping to replenish their supplies until they reached Mindell, the last town before reaching southern Oregon.
“Who’s the girl you were talking to at church before we left?” Quinn glanced at Brodie as he tossed a few twigs on the fire.
“Which one?”
“The one I didn’t recognize,” Quinn smirked. “Dark hair, round face.” He prided himself on knowing all the eligible young women in town. He had no plans to court or do anything else with a local girl, but he enjoyed flirting as much as any man.
“Louisa…Linda…Lillie…that’s it. Lillie. Her family bought the old Miller place west of town. She’s the same age as Jinny, so I introduced her.” At eighteen, Brodie’s younger sister had boys surrounding her wherever she went.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have your hands full with her,” Quinn said, standing to stretch. “How about some cards?” Pulling a deck from his saddlebag, he shuffled, then dealt.
“You hear from…” Brodie’s words trailed off as Colin put a finger to his lips, his eyes shifting to his left. Brodie nodded, setting his cards down. “Long day in the saddle. Gotta stretch.” Moving to a crouch, he rolled, pulling his gun the same instant as Colin and Quinn.
“Whoever’s out there, come out now.” Colin’s hard voice rang through the quiet night, signaling the others to spread out. A rustling noise, then footfalls had Colin up and running, followed by Quinn and Brodie. It didn’t take them long to spot and overtake the three fleeing forms, tackling them to the ground.
“What d
o you think you’re doing sneaking up…” Colin’s words died in his mouth as he turned the person over, long, golden hair spilling out of the hat. “What the hell?” he murmured, hearing the same bewildered curses from Quinn and Brodie when they discovered they’d wrestled two girls, and not boys, to the ground.
All hell broke loose as the three kicked and screamed, clawing at their captors, attempting to break free.
“Calm down. We aren’t going to hurt you,” Colin hissed at the hellion who shot him a furious gaze. He could feel her relax and loosened his hold, regretting it an instant later when she tried to knee him in the groin. “Dammit, stop that.” Still straddling her, he grabbed her wrists, holding them above her head.
For the first time, he got a good look at her face. If it weren’t for the dirt and foul temper, she’d be a pretty little thing.
“How you boys doing?” Colin asked Quinn and Brodie, giving her a warning glance as he hauled her to a standing position.
“She’s a feisty one, but I have her,” Quinn replied, cursing as the girl’s foot connected with his shin.
“Stop scratching me,” Brodie ground out as he hauled his captive up, pulling her arms behind her, then marching her toward the others. Wiping an arm across his brow, he studied the three girls. He guessed the oldest to be seventeen or eighteen. The others looked younger.
“What are you girls doing out here alone?” Brodie asked.
“None of your da—”
Colin yanked the oldest girl’s arm before she could finish. “None of that, lassie. Now, answer his question.”
Her eyes shooting daggers at him, she tried to break his hold, only to find herself yanked against his hard chest.
“That’s enough. You’ll not struggle any longer.” Pulling her after him, Colin walked to Chieftain’s saddle, grabbing his rope, then wrapping it around her wrists. Setting her beneath a tall pine, he did the same with her ankles, then stood, watching as Quinn and Brodie tied the other two. Separating the girls by several feet, the cousins huddled together, talking in soft voices.
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