With This Ring?

by Karen Witemeyer

  “That’s Jonas’s old Sharps,” Vince said. “Trouble coming.”

  The women knew exactly what to do and they vanished. There was a cave just outside of town where an old storekeeper had hid illegal liquor for a time. Now that they’d found it and arrested the storekeeper, it’d become a place they knew would be a haven in an emergency.

  The cave was hard to find, though. As they hurried outside, John almost followed. He wanted to make sure they slipped away safely. The women were pioneers, all of them but Carrie. Still, she was smart and savvy—for a city woman.

  Honestly, they were a mighty tough herd of women. He let them go alone.

  Carrie was the last one out the door, and she turned and gave John a heartrending look, then rushed back and flung her arms around him. “I love you, John Conroy. Please be careful.”

  “I love you too, Carrie Conroy.” He kissed her hard and fast. “Now git, so I can explain to Kearse that his engagement to you is broken.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes, but she smiled through them, turned, and ran. Ruthy was waiting with the door held open.

  John exchanged a grim look with Vince and Isaac. Luke, Dare, and Jonas would be thinning the herd of outlaws if possible. But it was doubtful they could get all of them.

  They filed out of the diner and went to hunt down the menace who’d been following after his Carrie.

  There’d be no long day spent with his new wife.

  There’d be no army of Rangers coming to help them. They were too widespread, and the wire had gone out only yesterday.

  There’d only be trouble in Texas.

  Carrie kept running, leaving behind her brave husband to risk his life. She felt a flood of guilt for the trouble that had been brought to everyone’s door, then stopped that harsh remorse. This was not her fault. She knew any decent man would have protected her. She also knew she wouldn’t have married any of them. Only John spoke to her heart.

  She’d fallen behind because of her saying good-bye to John. Ruthy had waited while the others ran ahead. Now Carrie stepped into the cave, Ruthy bringing up the rear.

  She screamed.

  Damian Kearse, his cruel eyes harsh and focused only on her, had his arm around Glynna’s neck with his gun in hand. “Welcome, Carolyn, my dear. I’m so happy to finally be with you again.”

  Two more armed men stood behind Glynna with their guns level at the rest of the group, who were backed into a corner of the cave.

  Carrie realized in that moment that she’d spent too long running and too long counting on someone else to protect her.

  She’d run from her father’s home right into John’s arms. She wouldn’t change that for anything. But up until this moment she’d been the prey, while Kearse had been the predator. And now he was threatening her friends.

  “Let her go, you coward.”

  Kearse’s eyes narrowed. His sickly sweet greeting—made obscene by the gun in his hand—vanished. “Get over here and I’ll trade one pretty blond woman for another.”

  This was what her wedding had been all about—this moment. Vince had even seen to a ring. Carrie walked straight for Kearse, but stayed a step back.

  “You let her go and I’ll leave with you quietly, without a fight.”

  Kearse had that look in his eyes. Hateful, cruel, brutal. His arm tightened on Glynna, and she gasped for breath and clung to his forearm with both hands.

  Then he flung her aside and reached for Carrie.

  “I’m a married woman.” Carrie lifted her hand before he could grab her.

  Kearse reared back.

  “I can’t marry you. No matter what words you force me to say, none of it is legal.”

  “I can arrange for your widowhood very easily, my dear.”

  “Will you mind me bearing his child? I could even now be expecting.”

  Kearse’s jaw went tight.

  Carrie saw her own death in his expression.

  “Your purity was more important to me than anything else. But if I can’t have you, no one else can either.” He grabbed her wrist and began dragging her toward a tunnel at the rear of the cave.

  “Being killed is better than being your wife. My husband is a Texas Ranger. Whatever you do to me, he will hunt you down and make you regret it.”

  “Then maybe I’ll have to kill him, too.”

  “Yes, and all his fellow Rangers and the hundreds of friends he’s made all over this state. If you hurt me, I promise you will spend the rest of your life in prison, if you get to jail alive.”

  Kearse stopped dragging and turned to her, fury burning in his eyes. She wondered then if he wasn’t more than cruel, if he wasn’t mad.

  His eyes darted left and right, looked at his men, his prisoners, his future. “Keep them covered until I’m well away.”

  Both men turned to gape at Kearse. They knew they were being left behind to face the law.

  He pulled her deeper into the tunnel, and just as she was rounding a curve that would block her view of the cave, she saw Ruthy rush in, gun drawn. Both men were looking at Kearse, and she clubbed one.

  Tina and Glynna dealt with the other. Missy dashed out of the cave on the far side, toward John and Vince and help.

  Carrie let Kearse tow her along, hoping he hadn’t noticed that his plans for a getaway were in ruins—though he might be able to escape by way of a back cave entrance and slip away. But the fact that her friends had hidden in the cave meant that at least some of them knew about this back entrance.

  She saw a pile of rubble ahead just as the cave went pure black.

  Timing her fall, she kicked out at Kearse’s fast-moving feet and tumbled them both to the ground. Kearse’s gun fired and ricocheted off the tunnel wall. Carrie fumbled for the rocks, and her hand landed on pebbles. She clawed at the gravel and threw it into Kearse’s face. He coughed and his grip slipped. She wrenched herself loose, reached again, and this time found a sizable rock, bigger than her fist.

  His coughing told her exactly where he was. She brought the rock down hard on his head. He shrieked in pain and landed his weight fully on top of her.

  He grabbed at her arm, but missed in the pitch-dark. She hammered him again and again.

  Then his weight was off her. She heard the solid thud of a fist against someone’s face. She kept swinging

  “Ouch! That’s my leg, Carrie.”

  John.

  He’d come for her.

  A light flooded the tunnel. Missy, pale but looking strong, stood behind John holding a lantern.

  Kearse lay crumpled on the ground, so dazed that he was close to unconscious.

  “I couldn’t stand letting you go alone, Carrie,” John said. “I was almost here when Missy came running for help.”

  Carrie leaped to her feet and fell against him. Sobs tore loose from her throat as John held her tight. After the worst of the storm had passed, John said, “The two men in the cave who were holding the women are skilled trackers. That’s how they found this place.”

  “He only brought two men with him?” That didn’t sound like Kearse.

  “Nope, he brought plenty. They’re all in custody.”

  Vince stepped into the tunnel. “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got to do something about the jail. I’m gonna have to stack prisoners.”

  John slapped Vince on the back. “Nope, I am.” He jabbed a thumb at the tin star on his chest. “That’s my job now.”

  Vince smiled and then patted his little sister on the shoulder. “You saved the day.”

  Missy shrugged. “We all helped. Man, woman, and child.”

  Vince leaned down and lifted Kearse to his feet. The man was just awake enough to stand with a lot of support from Vince, who dragged Kearse’s arm around his neck.

  “Let’s go,” Vince said. “Tina needs to get to work cooking.”

  Epilogue

  COLORADO

  It took much longer than one winter for Carrie and John to get to Rawhide.

  That wasn’t because of crime;
Broken Wheel was a peaceable town. What slowed them down was that Carrie was expecting their first baby near the end of summer, and John wouldn’t hear of the long ride.

  By the time they arrived in Colorado, the railroad had been built to stretch mighty close to taking them by train all the way there. And they had three children now. Isaac brought his wife, too.

  Big John had a son in each arm and one hanging from his neck when they alit from the train. Its puffing and steaming engine rumbled as Carrie climbed down the wooden steps, spied her sister, screamed, and ran toward her.

  Buck, Rocky, and Tex giggled.

  Isaac pushed past John, careful not to knock the children off him and under the train’s wheels.

  John smiled as he watched the three of them hug and laugh. Audra and Carrie looked so much alike that John’s head about spun at the sight.

  A tall cowboy came up and said, “Howdy. You must be John Conroy. I’m Ethan Kincaid, Audra’s husband.”

  John nodded. “Finally got Carrie here to see her sister.” He stepped toward Ethan. His youngest son, nine-month-old Tex, must’ve liked the looks of Ethan because he threw himself into Ethan’s arms.

  Ethan snagged the boy in midair. He seemed to be a man who was comfortable around children. “It took a few years, but it’s a big country. Glad you made it,” Ethan said. More laughter shifted their attention to Audra and Carrie. “Let’s load up. By the time we’re done, the women will be ready to come along.”

  Two other tall men stepped up onto the train station platform—one who stood tall in a way that made John suspect he was the oldest, the other with a wild grin on his face and eyes the color of blue lightning. Behind the wild man came a woman John had heard of years ago. The dark hair and eyes, a match for Luke’s, meant this could only be one person.

  “Callie Stone.” John strode toward her and, even holding a baby, managed to swing her up in his arms. “I’ve heard about you helping in the hospital after Andersonville. They sent me back to Texas mighty fast, but my friends have told me plenty of stories.”

  Callie hugged John tight. He set her down, and she smiled, her eyes awash in tears. “You got sent away fast. They said you were too big to be good at hiding, and too healthy to qualify for the hospital.”

  “I was just a kid then. Even younger than your brother, but no one knew that. I was tough and I wasn’t in Andersonville as long as some.”

  “How are the other Regulators, Vince and Dare and Jonas? I never saw them again after I stayed behind to take care of Seth.”

  “We’ve got some catching up to do for a fact,” John said.

  She introduced her husband, Seth, his brother Rafe, and Julia, another sister-in-law—a pretty redhead with an intelligent gleam in her eye. John had heard she wrote books.

  Carrie came back to his side, helped him wrangle the children, and then they all headed for the Kincaid Ranch. They’d be there for most of the summer, and while John would be glad to see Texas again, he didn’t mind missing the worst of the summer heat.

  Sitting beside Carrie in the back of the buckboard with their children all around them, John smiled down at his pretty wife, who’d never gotten one bit tired of frontier life. “Are you happy? Are you glad we came here?”

  She glowed with pleasure and slipped her arm around his elbow. It reminded him of the way they’d walked down the aisle together to get married. And it reminded him of their wedding night when they’d walked to the hotel, content to spend the night getting to know each other. Their first child was born nine months later.

  “I’m so happy, my face hurts from all the smiling, and my eyes burn from all the tears.”

  “Well, you set out from your pa’s mansion on the way to visit your sister. You made it, but marrying me and having three young’uns was a mighty big detour.”

  “I thank God every day I’m married to you, John.”

  “I do too, Carrie. I gained a treasure when I scooped up my very own runaway bride.”

  Chapter One

  1901—KANSAS

  Harrison Gray had never heard of anyone holding a competition over mounting or dismounting a horse, but then, Charlotte Andrews could turn anything into a contest. Since he’d never compete with Charlie again unless he was willing to lose, he’d wait beside his gelding until she rode off.

  “You’ve always had a soft spot for Charlie.”

  Startled, Harrison shook his head at the reverend, who’d appeared at his side. More of a sore spot than a soft spot. That woman could bring out the worst in him. She was not something he wanted to discuss. “Wonderful sermon, Reverend McCabe.” He gave the reverend’s hand a firm shake.

  “Thanks.” The man’s full beard split open with a smile.

  Harrison’s gaze drifted to Charlie as she swung herself up onto her mare with more grace than a fox jumping a fence—not that many around town would consider a woman riding astride graceful. He could imagine her fitting in better on a ranch farther west in Kansas than in the bustling, modern town Teaville had become in the past few decades. But since she was still here, she must feel as tied to her birthplace as he did. After all, he’d returned home to teach despite better job offers elsewhere.

  The reverend gestured toward his petite redheaded wife waving from the church’s front steps. “Lauralee reminds me we’ve yet to have you over for lunch. There’s a roast I’m willing to share at the parsonage.” He shaded his brow and looked to the darkening northern sky. “Of course, if that storm hits, you might be stuck at our house for a while.”

  The huge anvil clouds certainly did look as if they’d roll straight toward them.

  Whereas most of the congregation scurried about in an effort to get home, Charlie and her mare wove between carriages and people as if they danced. If not for the escaping tendrils of dark, wavy hair falling out from beneath her Stetson and the bulky split skirt, a stranger could’ve mistaken her for a well-seasoned cowboy.

  “We invited Charlie, but she was worried about the storm.”

  Harrison shook his head and forced himself to focus on the Reverend McCabe. “I’ll have to pass, unfortunately. I worked all day Saturday grading, so I didn’t get prepared for the upcoming school week.” Hopefully he’d figure out how to manage his time better before his first school year ended.

  “Did you hear Charlie’s getting married?”

  Some invisible force turned his head back to where she broke through traffic and galloped toward the railroad bridge. His cheek twitched. Charlie? Married? That wasn’t something he’d ever expected to hear. Rubbing a hand against the stubble on his chin, Harrison pressed his lips together. He hadn’t talked much to Charlie after he’d returned from college. She was a rancher, he a teacher—they existed in totally separate worlds now.

  He glanced at the reverend, who seemed content to watch her gallop out of sight. Was that all he was going to say? Of course a reverend shouldn’t gossip, but he couldn’t just blurt out that Charlie was getting married and not mention to whom.

  The reverend clicked his tongue. “He’s not the man I’d have chosen for her.”

  Since she’d been old enough to pick up a lasso, she’d sneered at ever having need of a man. Royal Whitaker was the only man who’d ever shown an interest, but she wouldn’t be stupid enough to marry the schoolhouse bully. And he likely only wanted the chance to humble her for breaking his nose during their childhood—twice.

  “I’m certain August Whitaker can ranch, but . . . she needs something more.”

  August. One of Royal’s brothers? Harrison scratched behind his ear and envisioned the line of Whitaker boys. He knew some of them. Scout, Noble, Ace, Cash, Duke . . . though the Whitakers used nouns to name their children, he still couldn’t remember them all. “Which one’s August?”

  “The third child, I believe. He’s stocky with a slight red sheen to his hair.”

  Then August was older than the brothers he knew. But surely just because a handful of Whitakers were bullies didn’t mean they all were. Charlie wa
sn’t book smart, but she wasn’t dumb either. “How many are there now?”

  “I believe Mrs. Whitaker’s about to have number eighteen. Fourteen boys and three girls so far.”

  Harrison shook his head at the marvel that was Mrs. Whitaker.

  “I’ve known you and Charlie since you both were in diapers, and though I pray for everyone in my congregation, sometimes a reverend’s advice just isn’t enough.” He tapped his chin. “I think a friend of Charlie’s should talk to her.”

  But she didn’t seem to have many friends.

  Did the reverend think they were friends? Ever since the day she’d humiliated him at a Sunday school party by picking up his new rifle and shooting the two cans he’d missed in front of all his friends . . .

  Well, she definitely didn’t need his “four-eyed” help in fending off August, if that’s what she wanted.

  “It’s too bad her father passed away last year. I’d have felt better knowing he approved of August.”

  Mr. Andrews was dead? Harrison looked to the east, where Charlie lived on the outskirts of town. Her father was the only man who’d reveled in her ability to outshoot and out rope him. If she’d had a best friend, it had been her father.

  “Despite saying they wanted to marry within the month, they acted like strangers. . . . Well, I better get back to the wife.”

  With that, he left Harrison to himself. Obviously the reverend wanted him to talk to Charlie. But why? He’d never told anyone that though she was a bossy show-off and had crushed his fifteen-year-old heart, she still fascinated him.

  But nursing an attraction to someone who’d once brought out the worst in him was not wise. A decade ago, he’d spent years learning to compensate for his visual impairment in hopes of showing her up with a gun one day. Just before he’d left for college, he’d had the chance to shoot against her at the local rodeo, but when he’d stepped forward and saw her overconfident grin, he realized he’d spent years intending to humiliate a woman, to embarrass her in front of a whole town, just because he could.

  What kind of man did that?