by Cheri Chaise
A brief mention of the stranger’s nearby presence – I deemed it best to avoid telling Mr. Stubbs just how near he’d been – brought out a fierce protectiveness in the elder gentleman. Thereafter, he’d insisted I carry the small weapon on my person at all times.
The sun was bright and warm as I made my way through the fort grounds to the post. The wind had whipped up from the night before, and I had to clutch my hat to my head with one hand and my beaded handbag to my breast with the other.
But I doubt my awkward gait was what drew so much attention as I scurried across the dusty way. Though I kept my eye toward the small building I’d been directed toward, I could feel a crowd lining up behind me as if they were children and I the Pied Piper leading them from the village.
Concern intensified after posting my letters, when I opened the door to return to the main house only to be confronted with a pack of not children. Not rats. But ravenous wolves.
And I was the poor little rabbit for whom their fangs dripped.
I fought to keep the fear from showing on my face. After my journey, I thought I’d be safe once I reached Fort Union. My assumption left me quite deluded.
“Good day, gentlemen,” I said, attempting to skirt the five men – and failing to make any conceivable progress.
The bunch closed in tighter. My heart hammered. The derringer swung heavy in my bag. With only one shot, it might serve me better to let its weight work as a battering ram to beat the hooligans about the ears.
One snatched at a ruffle on my sleeve, the rip shattering across my nerves as I wrenched from his grasp and aimed my bag at his head. The sound of tearing threads was like a siren song as stinking, sweaty bodies surrounded and pressed me into the side of the weathered building wall.
A hand clapped over my mouth and silenced the scream burbling up from my throat. Claws slashed at the front of my gown and paws sought skin beneath my skirts while they fought over who would take me first. My struggles to evade their hands were pointless.
Tears stung and trickled from my eyes as black spots invaded my vision. I realized no one would come to my aid. Was the West truly so lawless as to turn aside from so obvious an injustice to a lady? I’d mistakenly thought the worst was over after setting foot on land again. But I’d only traded one monstrous horde for another.
Until a nearby voice growled out. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The voice wasn’t loud. Didn’t thunder like an angry parent raging over a disobedient child. The deep, throaty voice held power – enough that the fervent gang stopped ravaging my body before the unthinkable could happen.
One of the men released me and turned around to speak to the newcomer. “This isn’t your concern, Carston.”
Carston? As in Cole Carston? But it didn’t sound like the voice I remembered from this morning, though that conversation had been achingly brief. Still, my heart rejoiced. He’d returned to claim me.
“When it comes to that woman you’re holding, everything about her concerns me.”
A bitter laugh and then the spokesman for my captors spat at my feet. “How do you figure?”
The rapid cocking of weapons broke through the question. “Because she’s my wife, asshole.”
That was a voice I recognized. Gruff and throaty. A man who was used to telling people what to do and getting things done. On his ranch.
Cole.
Two heartbeats passed. Then three. Slowly the wolves released me from their clutches and stepped aside to reveal three men with death gleaming in their matching green eyes, guns poised on those in full retreat.
Except one. One man swung me in front of him like a shield and quickly raised his pistol to rest near my temple before the Carston brothers took aim.
“Drop your guns, dammit. She’s mine, I tell you. Mine!” Spittle flecked my cheek. I wanted to gag, but I didn’t dare so much as breathe with all of the guns trained on me. “If’n I can’t have her, no one will.”
The cock of the weapon sounded right in my ear just before a shot rang out. The weight on my body immediately dissipated as if a heavy robe dropped from my shoulders. I kept my eyes trained on the smoke chimney curling from the end of a pistol instead of the dead man that puddled at my feet.
My entire body trembled uncontrollably. I couldn’t breathe. My vision clouded. Cole tossed aside his rifle and lurched forward to wrap me in strong arms as my legs gave out beneath me. His embrace was warm. He smelled earthy like the wind before a storm. For the first time in months, I finally felt truly safe. Protected.
Then everything shuttered to black.
Chapter Fourteen
Cole
I wasn’t about to waste another minute around here. I had responsibilities, dammit. People depending on me. To hell with business. A woman needed my protection. Nothing else mattered. I’d just have to avoid staring into Estella’s eyes and thinking of Sky. I could do that.
When Estella fainted in my arms, something shattered and broke through my defenses. Something dark. Something feral. I knew right then I’d do anything for her. Sacrifice everything to keep her by my side. Our side.
I shuddered to think what I’d have done if Evan and Drew hadn’t finished with their transactions first and run by me while I dinked around unknowingly with the banker. If they hadn’t reached her and stopped those bastards when they did? I could think of all manner of tortures too good for them – starting with sawing off each and every one of their dicks with a dull blade.
Mrs. Martin took over after I carried Estella to her room, pulling off what was left of the dress and unlacing and tugging off some contraption to get more air in her lungs. Then she proceeded to shoo me and my brothers out into the hall.
Twenty minutes passed while I paced a dent into the pinewood floor outside the room. Drew’s brows were pinched together with worry as he stared at the path I carved.
Evan tried to appear indifferent as he leaned against the stairwell banister, but he couldn’t fool me. His body was stiff and unmoving like staring down the rifle on the hunt right before a kill. Given the chance, he’d have torn those thugs apart with his bare hands.
I cleared my throat. “Thanks, guys…for getting to her when you did.”
Drew looked up. “Do you think she’s gonna be okay?”
“She’s gonna be fine, Drew.” I squeezed his shoulder and stared down into his wide, trusting eyes. “I promise.”
If only my words tamped down my own concerns. After the way I reacted to her first appearance and now this mess outside the post office, I wasn’t certain about anything now.
“She might still go back east though,” Evan grunted. “Wouldn’t blame her.”
Neither the growl nor the glare phased my brother – and they weren’t for the balls-on accurate single shot that had taken down the last attacker. “She’s not going anywhere. Not if we can help it. The moment she’s awake, I’m going to ask her to go before the preacher. Make this official. Then we pack up her stuff and head out.”
Drew smiled that goofy and trusting grin I loved so much. I only hoped Estella had the chance to fall in love with it too. In time.
“You mean you’re gonna get hitched this afternoon?” my brother asked.
“Yup…if she’ll still have me,” I replied. Evan pushed off the wall and ambled toward the stairs. “Where’re you going?”
He didn’t even stop. Or turn around. “To make sure the preacher is in so we can get this over with.”
“Aren’t you at least gonna wait until we see that she’s okay?”
“Like you said, brother, she’s gonna be fine. The sooner we hit the trail and get her safely home, the less we’ll have to deal with fuckers like them.” He’d taken two treads down before stopping to look at me over the railing with a hard glint in his emerald eyes. “Next time someone tries to pull that shit, I won’t be so nice.”
I let him go find the preacher. Might do him some good to have a little time to himself to cool off.
But he was
right. Where Estella was concerned, there would always be a next time.
Of that I had no doubt.
Chapter Fifteen
Estella
Before the tumultuous day was over, I became a married woman.
No sooner had I awakened from the swoon over the traumatic experience of nearly being ravaged and raped, than Cole’s concerned image wavered before me with a question I’d long waited to hear.
Not a question exactly. More like he told me we needed to get married and make this arrangement official before someone else got the wrong idea about my presence at the fort. The brief explanation he offered left no doubt in my mind of his meaning and its unfortunate validity – crude though it may be.
But at least it appeared he still wanted me as his wife, regardless of how he’d acted upon our first meeting. It was painfully obvious this was to be a marriage in name only. Yet after the way he and his brothers put themselves in harm’s way to protect me, I was mollified with the prospects of knowing I’d be well cared for and never have to fear for my future.
The lilac gown was the closest thing to a wedding dress I had available on such short notice. Mother always said it wasn’t my best color, but I always felt rather pretty in lavender shades because it brought out the color of my eyes.
Not that Cole ever really looked into them. He rather avoided staring directly at me and kept his eyes focused on the minister during the quick ceremony.
Since he’d acted more as a father than my own these past weeks, Mr. Stubbs graciously walked me down the aisle, while the minister’s wife played a squeaky and breathy pipe organ that had seen better days.
The wildflowers Mrs. Martin picked for me trembled in my hands, whether from fear or joy I couldn’t discern. Still, I was grateful for her presence as she stood beside me as my secondary witness while Cole’s brothers served as his.
Two brothers. In his letters, I was certain Cole had said there were three. And I hadn’t even yet learned which was which, with no forthcoming formal introduction from my husband.
My husband. The very idea of getting married had long been a fleeting thought I’d resigned myself to never saying. And now a handsome man stood beside me, accepting congratulations from his brothers and Mr. Stubbs after nary even a peck on the cheek.
Mr. Cole Carston, my husband. Tall. Strong. Capable. But would he love me? Could I learn to love him? Enjoy each other’s touch as we reached shattering completion?
Apparently not tonight.
“Saddle the horses and bring the wagons around,” he instructed his brothers before turning to me. “Are all your things in your room?”
“Two trunks, but the rest are stored also at the main house.”
“Then let’s go get them.”
I barely had time to hug Mrs. Martin and Mr. Stubbs with tearful goodbyes before Cole hustled me out of the church and across the way toward the large structure. “We are leaving? This instant?”
“Yes.”
“But will we not take time…spend some time…have a moment or two alone before we go?”
Warmth crept up my neck and into my cheeks as I contemplated the best way to address consummation. It was my wedding night, after all, and men expected satisfaction. In truth, after months and years of forced abstinence, I desired it too.
The feel of a man’s hands gliding over my heated skin. Lips trailing kisses down my neck. Tongues tasting one another.
Cole glanced over my head then across his shoulder as if expecting trouble to come chasing after us. “We’ll deal with that later.”
Deal with it later? Turmoil soured my stomach. Doubts ravaged my thoughts.
Yet I attempted to be practical. Rational, considering the current situation. Yes, we’d written each other extensively, but we’d only just met in person. I should be grateful he wasn’t simply going to thrust himself on my person to gain his own release.
And hadn’t he said he also had business to conduct while at Fort Union? Perhaps he’d finished and wanted to return home. Or likely needed to return home. He did have an extensive ranch to run, of course. Perhaps the other brother waited there, and they needed to get home to relieve him of all of that responsibility.
Then there was the stir my presence here at the fort had caused. Therein lay the unexpected blessing that the attack had spurred both of us to take our vows in marriage. Yet even though he’d just married me, his words still tolled like a resounding rejection.
Upon entering the house, I led Cole to the small room off the antechamber and unlocked the door with the key Mrs. Martin had provided. It comforted me greatly to see the trunks filled with personal effects, and I couldn’t wait to unpack them in my new home.
“Point out which are yours,” Cole directed as he stepped inside.
“They’re all mine.”
He blinked. “They’re all…?” He turned and gawped at me. “There’s something like fifty trunks in here!”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I glanced around uncomfortably as others strolled by the open door with a chuckle at the scene we threatened to create. “It’s more like nineteen.”
“How many dresses does one woman need?”
“They’re not all dresses,” I began, pointing at each of the trunks in turn. “That one has my shoes. The one beside it I believe contains my book collection, as does the one beside it. My great-grandmother’s silver tea service and flatware over there. A lovely set of china I thought might work well for a wedding dinner, since you never mentioned having such things.”
“There’ll be no wedding dinner,” Cole snapped.
“I’m well aware of that…now.”
“What do you call that huge contraption there?”
I peeked around him and smiled. “Oh, that’s my tapestry loom.”
“A loom? For…for tapestries?”
“Of course. I mentioned my pastime in several letters, I do believe. And those two trunks contain all of my thread and spools.” My fingers itched to thread the needle through the wefts and see a design come to life. “I’ve become quite good these last years.”
Cole growled. “It stays.”
My breath stilled. “I beg your pardon?”
“Matter of fact, most of this is going to have to stay behind. Give it to Mrs. Martin or…something.”
Cold shock coursed through my veins. “They most certainly will not stay, and I will not fritter them away to others. These are my possessions.”
“Five trunks. Clothes, shoes, and maybe some books. That’s all the room we’ll have.”
He plucked up a heavy trunk as if it weighed nothing, hiked it onto his shoulder, and headed for the door. Shock turned to outrage as I followed along in his wake, trying not to create any further of a scene than we already had.
“Now just one minute, sir,” I said, tugging on his bulging arm when he stopped outside on the porch. “I’ve come all this way, left the comforts of home, and risked life and limb to arrive at this…this…place. I’m not about to leave what little civilization I brought along with me simply because you don’t wish to be bothered.”
A large, buckboard wagon driven by one of his brothers stirred up a cloud of dust as it came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. Cole plunked my trunk in the bed and swung around to head for another one without a word. The brother driving hopped down with a rather sweet grin – or what I might consider sweet under normal circumstances – and lumbered after Cole.
Heart hammering as if it would burst from my chest, I marched toward the door and nearly landed on my bustle when my husband framed it again. His quick, strong grasp kept me from ruining yet another dress today.
“Please, I need all my things,” I begged as anger dissolved into despair with each passing trunk. “See? There’s still plenty of room in the wagon for the rest.”
Cole ignored me. “Okay, Drew. Take the wagon out and meet up with Evan. We’ll be along shortly.”
I stamped my foot in the dust like a child. “I won’t leave here without
my possessions.” I was near to breaking down in choking sobs as warm tears filled my eyes. “It’s all I have of home.”
Why was he doing this? Didn’t he understand how much I’d already left behind? All I’d sacrificed?
“Wait a minute, brother,” Drew said, his wide grin fading as he lobbed a trunk unceremoniously into the wagon. “All the rest of that stuff is hers too?”
“Not anymore,” Cole grumbled, sliding the last trunk he’d allow onto the wagon.
“But she said she wasn’t coming without them.”
“Oh, she’s coming alright.”
I was just about to argue, when Cole bent down and hefted me over his shoulder, then tossed me sputtering into the wagon. I tried to scramble out without burying my face in my hands, but he stopped me by placing his enormous hand over mine.
“Look,” he muttered. “We’ve got a long trail back to the ranch. All that sh…uh, stuff will slow us down. It’ll take us the better part of a week as is.”
That brought my surprised gaze up to his. “Another week of travel?”
“Yup.”
“Across the open prairie? In…in this wagon?”
“Yup.”
I glanced around then looked beyond the open gate past the fort walls. “Where will we sleep?”
He chuckled. “Well, there ain’t no fancy hotel along the way, that’s for sure.”
“We’ll sleep in the wagon?” I asked hesitantly.
He nodded. “You will. But if we toss the rest of those trunks in here, you can just count on joining us on the ground.”
My nose wrinkled involuntarily before his words fully penetrated. I narrowed my gaze and punctuated it with a tilt of my head and the barest hint of a smile. “So what you’re saying is that if we take all of my trunks, my only option will be to sleep on the ground?”
“Yup.”
My eyes narrowed further. “With you?”
His lips curled into a smirk as if convinced I’d be appalled by the very idea. “That’s right.”