Brand was bleeding badly and his left shoulder screamed with pain, but his fury knew no bounds. Jason punched Brand in desperate fury, but he was no match for Brand Selby, even wounded. Brand grabbed the man’s hair and yanked Jason’s head back, then kneed him hard in the stomach. Jason doubled over and Brand brought his knee up this time, bashing it into Jason’s face. There came a crunching sound as several teeth broke and Jason’s cheekbone cracked. Brand shoved Jason to the ground, ramming a knee into his back and pulling his knife from its sheath. He grasped Jason by the hair and yanked his head back, putting the knife to his throat.
Panting, he growled, “I can think of a hundred ways to kill you slowly, Brown! First I start by popping out your eyeballs!”
“No! Wait!” Jason gasped. Blood poured from his mouth. “I can give you money—gold! Lots of gold!”
“Brand, don’t kill him!” Joshua shouted, coming closer. “We need him alive!”
“I can’t let him live!” Brand snarled, pricking Jason’s skin just under the eye.
“Brand, we need him, damn it!”
“Brand!” Rachael cried out. “Don’t kill him!”
The sound of her voice seemed to soften him. He rammed his knife back into its sheath, then shoved Jason’s face into the gravel. He got up from the man, turning his eyes to Joshua. “He walks back!” he told Josh. “If he can’t keep up, then he goes back dragging behind a horse!”
Luke started forward, then heard someone running. A man mounted a horse and started to ride off. Luke took aim with Hank’s rifle and fired at a figure outlined in the moonlight. The man fell from the horse.
“It’s all right, Josh!” Luke yelled excitedly. “I got one of them!” He ran up to the body and knelt closer to see. It was Jules Webber, the man who had brought Rachael to the camp. He felt Jules’s chest and put a hand to his mouth. There was no heartbeat and no breathing. It was the first time Luke Rivers had killed a man, but he didn’t feel bad about this one.
Luke ran toward his big brother, his heart leaping with joy at seeing Joshua still alive. “Josh!” he called out.
“Luke!”
The two brothers hugged, and Brand turned to Gray Bear and Standing Horse, giving them orders to make sure Jason Brown went nowhere. But that was not likely. Jason still lay facedown in the dirt, his blood staining the ground.
“You are hurt,” Standing Bear told Brand in the Comanche tongue.
Brand put a hand to his wound and said nothing. He hurried into the shadows where Rachael had gone, calling her name.
“Brand!” she cried out. She limped toward him, falling into his welcome arms and weeping. “Oh, Brand, I thought you were dead! It was so awful!”
He hugged her tightly, calling over to Joshua and Luke to help the other woman, who came staggering into the firelight, her eyes staring and terrified.
“Everything will be all right now,” Joshua told her, taking off his shirt and putting it around her.
Brand picked Rachael up in his arms and walked over near the fire with her. “Luke, round up what horses you can and hook some up to the wagon. We’ll let the women lay in the back of the wagon on the way back.”
“Yes, sir.” Luke walked closer to the man. “Is Rachael okay? She isn’t gonna die or anything, is she?”
“Your sister will be fine. Go on now. We’ve got to get her and this other woman to a doctor.”
Luke ran off and Joshua walked closer to Brand after helping the other woman into the wagon. His eyes teared as he stared at a still-weeping Rachael. Her feet dangled, an ugly, bleeding cut on the bottom of one of them. “He said he was going…to cut the skin off the bottom of my feet,” Rachael wept. “And he was going to sell me…to the Comancheros!” She clung to Brand, her words muffled because her face was buried in Brand’s neck.
“He won’t hurt you anymore, Rachael,” Brand told her. “It’s all over now. Everything is going to be all right. We’ll take Jason Brown to town and everyone will know the truth. Then we can be married.”
“I’m sorry,” Joshua said. “You were telling the truth, Brand. If it wasn’t for me, my sister wouldn’t be here at all. When I think what could have happened if you hadn’t helped me find her…” He turned away, closing his eyes against the agony of it.
“Josh? Josh is with you?” Rachael asked in a weak voice.
“Yes. We came together to get you.”
“Then he knows…he understands…”
Joshua turned and grasped an arm that was wrapped around Brand’s neck. “I’m so goddamn sorry, Rachael. I don’t know what else to say, except that I love you. I just wanted what I thought was best for you.”
She moved her arm down, keeping her face buried against Brand’s shoulder but grasping Joshua’s hand.
“Joshua,” she groaned.
Rachael lay in a clean flannel gown, enjoying the comfort of the cool sheets of her own bed. Lacy came into the room again, fussing over her as she had done ever since Rachael’s return. She re-tucked the blankets, fluffed her pillow.
“Do you need anything, honey?”
“I’m fine, Lacy. If you don’t stop all this attention, I’ll never be able to do another thing for myself.”
“Nonsense. I enjoy it. I’m just so glad to see you back safe and sound. The doctor says there’s still no sign of infection in that foot.”
“Where is Brand? I haven’t seen him yet this morning.”
“He and Josh are down at the Ranger offices. Some Rangers came in this morning from Houston. They’re taking Jason and the other two men back to Houston with them. I’ll tell you, the men left to guard those three had a time keeping the people of this town from hanging all three of them. Around here there’s nothing worse than white men turning on their own kind and selling them off to the Comanche or to outlaws. Brand was right smart in not killing Jason Brown. Being disgraced and hanged in public is the best punishment for that man.”
“Is Luke here?”
“He’s down in the kitchen finishing off some cookies I baked. I’ll tell you, that boy can eat a person right out of the house.”
Rachael smiled. Soon she would be well, and she and Brand and Luke and Josh were all going to leave together—head north with what cattle and horses and personal belongings they had salvaged and settle someplace new. But Matthew wouldn’t be with them.
They both heard the door downstairs open and close, and Lacy went out into the hallway, looking down to see Brand and Joshua coming inside with the local preacher.
“Can we come up?” Joshua asked, looking at Lacy. “We have a surprise for Rachael.”
Lacy smiled, guessing from the bouquet of flowers in Brand’s hands what was going on. “You sure can,” she answered.
Luke ran out of the kitchen and followed the men up the stairs, curious. Rachael put a hand to her bruised face when they came into the room. Most of the swelling had gone down over the six days they had been back, but green and yellow bruises remained. Brand came to her first, sitting down on the edge of the bed and laying the flowers across her chest. His left shoulder still ached fiercely, and he had lost some of the use of his left arm. But already he had been working with it, determined to regain full use of it. After all, if he was going to spend the rest of his life providing for and protecting Rachael Rivers, he had to be well and strong.
“For my bride,” he told her.
Rachael blinked in wonder. “Your bride?”
“The preacher has agreed to marry us.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.”
“Oh, Brand, my hair…my face. I’m not even dressed.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You’re beautiful, and we’ve waited long enough.”
“Brand!” She smelled the lovely scent of the flowers, and her eyes teared. “Oh, Brand, I’m so happy we can finally be together.” Her words were choked, and he grasped her hands.
“You just hang on and say your vows and that will be it. You will be Mrs. Brand Selby.” He
stood up and reached into the pocket of his pants. He wore dark cottton pants and a blue calico shirt. The only clothes he possessed after being chased off his land were the now bloodied buckskins he had been wearing that night. Joshua had sold some of his cattle when they got back, and pooled the money with what Brand had on him to buy some clothes for both Brand and Josh, and for Luke. Brand had not failed to buy more buckskins, but he already talked about riding through Indian Territory on their way north and trading for some “real Indian-made buckskins,” as he put it. “These skins tanned and sewn by whites aren’t nearly as sturdy,” he complained.
But for today he wore white man’s clothing, and Rachael noticed he looked more handsome than ever, realizing it was because he was completely happy for the first time in many years. He flashed an unnerving smile as he handed her a gold wedding band.
“It’s not very fancy. When I get settled someplace new, I’ll get you something nicer,” he told her.
Rachael took the ring, studying it with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Brand, it’s beautiful,” she told him. “I don’t ever want another.”
He grasped her hands. “Don’t put it on yet. Let me do it at the right time.” He looked up at the preacher. “You ready, Reverend?”
“If you are,” the man answered. Brand Selby’s actions in exposing Jason Brown for what he really was had won Brand and Rachael at least a few friends among the people of Austin, the reverend being one of them. He had decided it was not his place to judge these two people, who apparently loved each other very much.
Rachael could hardly get through the words, the lump in her throat was so painful. She clung to Brand’s hands tightly, almost expecting something else to go wrong. But then Brand was slipping the ring on her finger. Brand was kissing her cheek. Lacy was crying. The men were all shaking hands and Lacy invited the preacher down for coffee and cookies.
“Can I have more?” Luke asked right away.
“You mean you left some?” Lacy returned.
She put her hand on Luke’s shoulder and led him out. Rachael moved her eyes to Joshua, who stood near the window. “I’m real glad for both of you,” he told her. Brand rose, and the two men shook hands. Joshua’s eyes were red and watery. “Thanks, Brand.”
Brand squeezed his hand. “You’re a good man, Joshua.”
Joshua nodded, then turned to Rachael. He let go of Brand and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking Rachael’s hand. “I ought to tell you, Rachael, that I’ve been thinking a lot about something.” He looked up at Brand. “I’ll go north with you, but I’m thinking that after a bit I just might head out to Oregon.”
“Oregon!” Rachael gasped. “Josh, we should be together.”
Joshua sighed, meeting her eyes again. “You’ve got Brand now, Rachael. I’ve already got an offer on Pa’s land. You already know I can’t bring myself to go back there, other than us going to see the graves before we leave. Everything is gone, and with my share of the money from selling the land—I don’t know. I just need to go off alone, Rachael. I’ve never known anything but Texas. A lot of people are heading for Oregon, and I hear there’s a valley there that’s pure heaven for a man who likes to farm and raise horses. You and Brand don’t need me around. And maybe out in Oregon, what with so many people heading in that direction, I can find a woman to settle with. Isn’t that what you’ve been wanting for me?”
Her eyes teared. “I’d miss you so much.”
“You got along fine without any of us back in St. Louis for three whole years. You’re one hell of a strong woman, Rachael. Before you know it you and Brand will be settled, and you’ll be teaching school someplace—and having babies. You’ll be surrounded with a new family. I’ll make sure you’re good and settled before I go. And there are ways of keeping in touch. I’ll write and let you know where I’ve settled. And if I fall in love, I’ll tell you that, too.”
Rachael smiled through tears. “What about Luke?”
“Well, I guess it will be up to him when the time comes. He can come along, or stay with you and Brand, whichever he wants to do.”
“You know we’ll gladly keep him with us, Josh, if that’s what he wants,” Rachael answered. She breathed deeply. “Oregon.” She looked at Brand. “What do you think of that?”
Brand frowned. “I’m a Plainsman myself—have to have wide-open land underfoot. But Josh has told me enough about it that I’m thinking more along the lines of settling along the Oregon Trail, up around Kansas, where we’d be close to Independence, Missouri, where most of the travelers leave from. We could raise horses—get rich supplying the travelers with fine horses and whatever food we can raise. Let those crazy people go all the way to Oregon. We’ll be counting our money.”
They all laughed lightly.
“Well, I’m going to be one of the crazy people who goes all the way to Oregon,” Joshua said. He leaned closer and kissed Rachael’s cheek. “I’m sorry for all of it, Rachael. I’m just glad you and Brand are together now.” He straightened, wincing at the pain that still plagued his ribs. His face was pink on one side from where the skin had been scraped away, contrasting the sun-darkened skin of the rest of his handsome face. Rachael had no doubt her brother would find a wife easily once he started seriously looking. His problem would probably be choosing from the several young women who were bound to be more than eager to marry her brother.
“I’ll leave you two alone for a few minutes,” he said then, rising from the bed. He squeezed Rachael’s hand, then gave Brand a wink as he left.
Brand sat back down on the bed and leaned close to his new wife. “Are you happy, Mrs. Selby?”
“I’ve never been happier,” she answered, a tear slipping down the side of her face.
He met her lips, in their first truly hungry, lingering kiss since he had found her. She had been in too much pain and too upset until now to think passionate thoughts. But now Brand lightly ran his tongue over her healed lips, and he moved his arms under her, drawing her to him. The old fires of desire moved through her as she circled her arms around his neck.
“We’ll sleep together tonight,” he told her, moving his lips to her cheek, gently kissing the lingering bruises. “I’ll hold you all night and every night for the rest of our lives.”
Their lips met again, and Rachael knew that in spite of their injuries, somehow they would find a way to gently make love tonight. After all, this was her wedding night. She was Mrs. Brand Selby, and she would be his wife in every way.
Brand moved onto the bed to lie beside her, pulling her into his arms, where she nestled against him, reveling in the closeness and the safety of his strong arms. Nothing and no one could ever make them be apart again. They would go north and start a whole new life, away from all the things that brought remembered pain and heartache. She would not be leaving her mother and father and brother behind in Texas. Their spirits would all be with her, wherever she went. It was time to put the past behind her now, and look to the future.
“It’s been a long time since you had a lesson, Brand Selby,” she said sleepily.
He grinned. “Well, now you have all the time in the world to teach. All the time in the world. No more sneaking out to steal a few hours together. We’re free to love each other and be together for the rest of our lives.”
She snuggled against her new husband, breathing in the lingering scent of sage and leather.
“The man whose heart was made to love does not ask himself if the object of his love is worthy of him. The moment he loves he does not examine the past; he enjoys the present and he believes in the future…”
—George Sand
Copyright
Diversion Books
A Division of Diversion Publishing Corp.
443 Park Avenue South, Suite 1008
New York, NY 10016
www.DiversionBooks.com
Copyright © 1990 by F. Rosanne Bittner
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form wh
atsoever.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For more information, email [email protected]
First Diversion Books edition May 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62681-281-9
To those brave souls who settled the American West, especially those who survived the hardships of the Oregon Trail. This book is dedicated to their spirit and determination and, more, to the women who bore that rugged journey in silent suffering.
…Love much. There is no waste in freely giving;
More blessed is it, even, than to receive.
He who loves much alone finds life worth living:
Love on, through doubt and darkness; and believe
There is no thing which Love may not achieve…
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Chapter One
March, 1851…
Marybeth MacKinder stood at a window of the cramped apartment she shared with her in-laws. She longed to breathe some fresh air, clean, sweet air like the kind she used to breathe in Ireland. But the beauty of Ireland, its rolling green hills and gentle, musical breezes were thousands of miles away. There was no sweet air to breathe in New York City; there was no green here, especially in March, when the melting snow turned rock hard and showed an ugly gray color, and the air outside was still far too cold for an open window. Besides, Marybeth’s five-month-old son, Daniel, lay nearby, and she didn’t want him to get a chill.
She watched horses and buggies clacking back and forth in the wet street, watched crowds of people going this way and that, women lifting their skirts to avoid the slush. No one was aware of Marybeth’s particular predicament, and certainly none of them cared, especially not about an Irish Catholic. She wondered if every city in this land called America was as big and dirty and cold as New York. Mostly she wondered what it was like in Oregon, that strange land three thousand miles away where the MacKinders had decided to go.
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