The Bride Series (Omnibus Edition)

by Bittner, Rosanne

  Brown scowled, then slowly grinned. “Yes, you know that sound, don’t you?” His eyes glittered with hatred. “I’d love to let you hear it again—let you feel it again.”

  Brand did not flinch. “You would be very sorry this time.”

  Brown laughed lightly, nervously. “And what’s this bullshit about buying horses and settling? You? Brand Selby? Settling like a white man?” He began to laugh, and the other two men joined in the laughter as they, too, mounted up. “And just where is this ‘little place’ you call home, Selby?”

  “Just north of Austin.”

  Brown’s smile faded. “I don’t want you anywhere near Austin, Selby!” he warned.

  “I can settle anywhere I please as long as I obey the laws and mind my own business.”

  “And why in hell don’t you just go back to the Comanche?”

  “That’s none of your business. It’s my life, Brown. Just make sure you stay out of it!”

  Brown turned his horse in anger, making a full circle and prancing the animal a little closer to Brand. “And you make sure you stay out of Austin!”

  “I will go where I damned well please. Now you get out of here and leave the old man to me.”

  Brown breathed deeply to stay in control. “Go ahead and nurse the worthless old bastard, Selby! I can’t see anybody getting shot over an old man who’s dying anyway. There will be a better time and place for you and me!”

  “I can’t wait,” Brand said in a low, cool voice.

  Brown gave the man one more challenging look, then turned and rode off, Greene and Webber following. Brand watched them cautiously until they were all out of sight, then set his rifle against the cottonwood tree and bent down close to Many Horses.

  “I am sorry, old man,” he told him. “I wish I would have come upon you sooner. I will help you.” He moved an arm under the old man’s neck and lifted him slightly, smoothing stiff, gray hair back from his face. “I’ll take you back—” He did not bother to finish the sentence. He realized the old man was dead.

  Brand just stared at his face for a moment, his eyes tearing and his throat aching. He gently closed the old man’s eyes, then hugged him closer, gently rocking him. “Yes, I am sorry,” he whispered. He threw back his head, giving out a mourning cry that from a distance sounded like a strange animal calling out.

  They were dying, all dying, these last remnants of the Comanche. He had been watching it happen, feeling helpless, sometimes desperate. He had tried to help them by scouting for the Texas Militia, hoping to help ease the People into accepting reservation life. But it had hurt too much to watch the agony on their faces; and he could not help feeling like a traitor when he helped root out the renegades.

  “Damned tejanos,” Brand groaned. “Why must I carry their blood in my veins!” He slowly lowered the body of Many Horses, then turned and retrieved a small hatchet from his supplies to cut some slim branches from the cottonwood tree. “I will make a travois for you, old man,” he spoke aloud, deliberately talking to keep from weeping. “I will take you to your daughter so that she can give you a proper burial. And I promise I will take the meat to them and find even more meat for them on the way.”

  Picking up the horses would have to wait. Mr. Kruger would understand. He was one of the few whites Brand knew who cared anything about the Comanche side of the settling of Texas. Kruger was a fair man—had given Brand a good deal on the horses.

  He took a blanket from his gear and walked over to Many Horses, setting his hatchet down for a moment and covering the old Indian. “First I will take you home,” he said quietly, his chest aching fiercely. “Then I will go back to the white man’s world.”

  Chapter Two

  Over the next four days after her arrival, Rachael occupied her time with cleaning, cooking, and mending; and spent her evenings getting reacquainted with her brothers. She was also reawakened to the difficulties of ranch life in a still wild and rugged Texas. After living three years in St. Louis, she had grown accustomed to a more comfortable existence. A woman could purchase anything she needed in St. Louis, could keep up with the latest styles, be a lady in every sense of the word. She could attend theaters and concerts. Doctors were readily available. Streets were bricked, and a woman rode in a carriage instead of on horseback.

  Rachael had to grin at the contrast. She had nearly forgotten how hard life could be on a remote Texas ranch, and she respected her mother’s memory even more. The woman had never complained when she was alive. She was happy to simply be with her husband and children, no matter what the hardships.

  She sat down at the homemade wooden table, looking up at a penciled sketch of her parents drawn by a traveling artist. How beautiful her mother had been, how handsome her father. It hardly seemed possible three years had gone by since she had left Texas with Herm and Sarah Baker and their family. The Bakers had given up trying to make a go of it in Texas. Two of their six children had died, one of them only two months old. Sarah longed to go back to St. Louis, and so they went, taking Rachael with them on the promise to Joe Rivers that his daughter could live with them while she furthered her education.

  Thanks to her mother, at sixteen Rachael was excellent at reading and writing, as adept as the formally schooled young people farther east. Emma Rivers had grabbed up every book that became available, either buying them or borrowing them from other settlers, from businessmen in Austin, anyplace she could get a book that might help her children learn more. But it had been hard to get the boys interested, with most of their time spent helping their father on the ranch; so it was Rachael who received most of the teaching, Rachael who had read the whole Bible twice, Rachael who wrote poems for her mother. Rachael would never forget the look of pride in her mother’s eyes when she read the poems.

  “Never forget that everyone has a right to learn, Rachael,” Emma Rivers would tell her daughter. “My pa chased away the only person who ever came around to teach young ones back in Tennessee. He wouldn’t let me learn, but I had a terrible desire inside to read and write better, so I practiced all by myself. Then Pa threw out all my books—said learning wasn’t for girls. Don’t you let anybody tell you that, Rachael, and don’t deny anybody else the chance. I don’t care if they’re man or woman, black or red or white. You know your pa and I don’t judge people that way.”

  Rachael’s chest pained slightly at the memory. She still carried the old Bible that had belonged to Emma Rivers, and she thought how much happier her mother and father must be now, together at last. No one doubted the love Joe and Emma Rivers had shared.

  The door opened and Joshua came inside, removing his hat and wiping sweat from his brow. Rachael glanced at him as though almost startled, his entry interrupting her deep thoughts.

  “You look surprised,” he said, hanging his hat on a hook.

  “I was just thinking.”

  “’Bout what?”

  “Just things—Mother, Father, things Mother used to tell me.”

  Joshua pulled out a chair and sat down. “Pa used to talk about you every night at the supper table, Rachael,” he told her gently. “And when your letters came, he had me read them to him over and over. He never was real good at reading, you know. Anyway, he was so proud of you.” He reached out and put a hand over her own. “Is there anything of Pa’s that you want to keep? You can have anything you want.”

  Rachael shrugged. “Maybe his doeskin jacket—the one on the wall there that Mother sewed for him.”

  Joshua glanced at the jacket and its shiny elbows. “That old thing? You sure?”

  “Yes.” She continued to stare at her lap. “I put it around me earlier this morning, and it was like…” Her voice began to choke. “Like having Father hug me tight, having his…his protection, his love still with me. And it was like he was right here, Josh, right here beside me.”

  Joshua squeezed her hand. “I think I understand.” He sighed deeply, rising. “You take it then. And I hate to say it, seeing as how we all enjoy your housekeeping and
cooking and all, but you should go back to Austin pretty soon, Rachael. Every extra day you’re here is another day of danger, not just for you but for all of us. It’s better the Comanche don’t see a woman around here.”

  “Oh, Josh, you’re talking like the Indian-hating settlers who don’t know one thing about Indians. You’ve been around Jason Brown too much, I think.” Rachael rose and wiped at her eyes, taking the jacket from its hook and hugging it against her chest. She watched Joshua pick up the soup ladle and dip it in fresh chicken soup simmering on the cookstove. “Stay out of that soup. It isn’t done yet.”

  Josh sipped some and smacked his lips. “Tastes done to me. Matt and Luke will like this.” He put down the ladle and turned. “And don’t be putting down Jason Brown. He’s been out there, Rachel—seen things beyond description. You just don’t know.”

  “I told you what I think of Jason Brown.”

  “Come on, Rachael. Give him a chance. It’s been three years. Maybe you’ll see he’s different from what you remember when you were only sixteen. I reckon a nineteen-year-old woman looks at men different than a sixteen-year-old girl.”

  Rachael blushed slightly and carried the jacket over to the cot in the corner of room on which she had been sleeping. “Perhaps.”

  Joshua grinned. “Nobody special back in St. Louis?”

  She laid the jacket on the bed. “Nobody special. I saw a couple of young men, but none of them ever gave me that special feeling Mother said I’d feel when the right man came along.” She smiled, sadly staring at the jacket. “She used to say she’d never forget how she felt the first time she saw Father, how she just knew she was supposed to belong to him. Even after all the years they were together, every time she talked about when she first fell in love with him, her eyes would shine just a certain way.” She moved her own eyes to Joshua. “I’ll never forget that look.” She sighed deeply and folded her arms. “What about you, Josh? This place needs a woman. You’re twenty years old.”

  He shrugged. “I figure me and Matt and Luke will work the Double ‘R’ into an even bigger spread, get to where we can hire more men. I’ve got no time to look for a wife, and when I do, I want to be a man of property, a man who can support her right, and I want there to be enough men on this place that she’ll be safe.”

  Rachael nodded. “I can understand that. I hope all of us end up as happy as Mother and Father were. I guess to be loved like that is the most important thing in the whole world.”

  Joshua ran a hand through his sandy hair. “I guess.”

  There came the sound of horses’ hooves then, and the mood quickly changed as Joshua ran to the door, opening it and grabbing a rifle that sat just outside. “Stay inside,” he called to her, pulling back the hammer of the rifle and stepping off the porch.

  “Joshua!” someone called out. Three men were riding toward the house.

  “Jason! It’s Jason Brown,” Joshua told Rachael, setting his rifle aside. “I’ll be damned! What great timing. Now you’ll have safe escort back to Austin.”

  Rachael’s heart fell a little. She had no desire to ride all the way back to Austin with Jason Brown. She stepped into the open doorway to watch as Joshua walked out to greet the three men. Matt and Luke rode in from another direction.

  “It’s Jason,” Rachael heard Matt call to Luke. “Hey, Jason! We thought you were bandits come to steal away our sister.”

  They were all bunched together then, greeting one another, shaking hands. “Your sister?” Jason asked. “She’s back?”

  Rachael quickly stepped back from the doorway so Jason would not catch her looking.

  “Sure is. And wait ’til you see her!” Luke bragged. “Ain’t a prettier woman this side of the Mississippi.”

  “I have no doubt about that,” Jason answered with a laugh.

  Rachael felt like hitting Luke for talking about her as though she had come back just for Jason Brown. He was the last reason she had returned. She hurried into the bedroom that had once belonged to her mother and father, patting the sides of her hair in the mirror and smoothing her skirt, yet wondering why she bothered. What did she care what Jason Brown thought of how she looked? She chided herself for the primping and walked back into the main room just as Jason and Joshua came inside.

  “Rachael, you remember Jason,” Joshua told her.

  Rachael nodded, holding Jason Brown’s eyes as the man slowly removed his hat. She thought him more handsome than she had remembered, but seeing him again did not bring that “special feeling” she had talked about moments earlier with her brother. She blushed, not out of any delight in seeing Jason, but rather the uncomfortable feeling he gave her as his dark eyes moved over her as though she stood before him naked.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Jason stepped a little closer, setting his hat on the table. “Your brother was right. There isn’t a woman in all of Texas any prettier. Hello, Rachael.”

  She swallowed. How could she be friendly and yet make sure this man realized she had not returned for him? “Hello, Jason. You came back just in time. I need an escort into Austin, where I’ll be teaching. That’s why I came back, to keep my promise to my mother, and to see Father, of course.”

  Jason nodded. “Sorry your pa died before you got here. That must have been real hard on you.”

  She rubbed her hands nervously against the skirt of her dress. “Yes. Thank you for your concern.” How she wished he would stop looking at her that way, as though he would like to own her. How did a woman turn away men like this without being rude? And yet she wondered if she was foolish to want to turn him away? He was indeed handsome and well built, and a capable man. He had to be in his late twenties already, maybe thirty, certainly of a marrying age. But there was something about him, an abstract quality that made her slightly afraid of him. Yes. That was what she remembered now. She had always been a little bit afraid of Jason Brown. He lacked that certain warmth that would make another person feel comfortable around him.

  “Rachael, I can’t say how happy I am to see you’re back,” he was saying. His eyes dropped for a moment to her full bosom. “And I have to say you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”

  She backed away slightly. “Thank you, Jason.” She walked to the stove to stir the soup. “Are you and your men hungry? I’ll have lunch ready soon. You’re welcome to eat with us.”

  Jason stared at her as though transfixed. “We’d like that just fine, Rachael. And I’d be honored to accompany you back to Austin.”

  She refused to look at him as she stirred the soup. “I would appreciate it.”

  “We’ll go in the morning if that isn’t too soon for you. My men and I have been out a long time, and we’re anxious to get back. Since your pa’s death, I’ve made it a point to check on Josh and the boys now and again, what with Comanche and outlaws always on the prowl. That’s why we came by.”

  “That’s nice of you, Jason.” Rachael set the ladle aside and finally met his eyes again. “I wish you could talk Josh into coming into town and giving up this place.”

  “Forget it, sis,” Joshua told her with a grin. “Jason, I’ll go finish up some chores and we’ll help your men unsaddle and brush down the horses. That will leave you some time to talk to Rachael.”

  Jason looked at Joshua and gave him a wink. “Much obliged, Josh.”

  Joshua left, and Rachael could not help the anger she felt at his leaving her alone with this man. He was perfectly aware she had no desire to be alone with him at all. She turned back to the soup, adding some salt. “So, you’ve gone from the Militia to a Ranger now,” she commented.

  “It’s really about the same, just a little more organized. Somebody has to keep the law around here.”

  “I agree.”

  Jason ran a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing he needed a bath and a shave, and that his clothes were dusty. “I, uh, I’m sorry for the way I look. You know how it is out there on the plains.”

  Rachael stirred the soup absently. “It’s al
l right, Jason. Please, sit down. Don’t worry about your appearance. I’m from Texas too, you know. This has to be one of the hardest places in the country for a man to stay clean.”

  He brushed at the front of his shirt and ran his hands through his hair again. “Yeah.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. Rachael set down the ladle and took a chair around the corner of the table from Jason.

  “You, uh, you didn’t get yourself hitched or anything like that, did you?” Jason asked her. “A man would be crazy to let you get away from him if there was any hope—”

  “No, Jason,” she answered before he could finish. “I’m still unmarried. But getting ‘hitched’ as you put it is not so important to me. I came back to teach, and to see my family, of course.”

  “How about me? Didn’t you want to see me again, Rachael?”

  There was such hope in his tired eyes that she didn’t have the heart to tell him no. “As a friend. Yes. I thought about you.”

  He grinned, a handsome smile; but still the warmth was not there, and the look of possessiveness in his eyes still made her uneasy. He reached out and took her hand, but his own hand was cool and she could not resist the impulse to pull hers away immediately. He seemed to ignore the gesture. “I hope you’ll let me call on you, Rachael, after you get settled in Austin.”

  She rose, getting down some soup bowls. “We’ll see, Jason.”

  He watched her from behind, picturing how she must look naked, her breasts full and ripe for picking; her bottom round and firm; her golden hair undone and falling around her bare shoulders; her eyes closed in ecstasy as he took her. “Where will you be staying?” he asked aloud.

  “At Lacy Reed’s boardinghouse. I asked Lacy to hold a room for me.”

  “And you’re really going to teach?”

  Rachael caught the chauvinistic tone in the statement. “Really,” she answered with emphasis. “I’m as qualified as any man, and I love teaching.”

  Jason shrugged, rising from the table. “I don’t doubt you are. It just seems like kind of a waste. Someone as pretty as you ought to be married and keeping her own house, having babies.”