Tanzy wasn’t about to trust her luggage to the goodness of the citizens of Boulder Gap. Or her reputation to these men.
“Thank you, but my friend wouldn’t know where to find me.”
“We could keep a look out for him.”
“I prefer to stay here.”
“You’re blocking the street,” said another.
“I’m sure the good citizens of Boulder Gap won’t mind stepping around me for a few more minutes.”
“Are these men bothering you?”
Tanzy didn’t know the stranger who spoke to her, but she knew he was important by the way he was dressed. She knew he was powerful by the way the three rough men backed away.
“They were just trying to make sure I wasn’t lost.”
“More likely they were trying to take advantage of you. Get out of town, or I’ll have the sheriff lock you up.”
“We got a right to be here,” said the first man who’d spoken.
“Sorry they should be your introduction to our fair town,” the man said as the three ruffians reluctantly moved away.
“My introduction was a very nice army officer’s wife.”
“Delighted to hear it. My name is Stocker Pullett. I own the biggest ranch in Colorado. I also own the Stocker Hotel and Restaurant. Let me invite you to join me for a cool drink.”
“Thank you, but I’d better stay where my friends can find me. They told me not to worry if they weren’t here when I arrived, just to wait and they’d be here soon.”
“It’s hard to predict traveling time, but if I’d been the one meeting you, I’d have come into town last night and stayed at the hotel to make sure I was here when you got off the stage.”
“I expect they would have if circumstances hadn’t prevented it.”
She didn’t know why she should have taken an instant dislike to this man. He seemed a prefect example of a successful businessman—well-dressed, impeccably groomed, well-spoken, courteous, well-mannered. He looked to be fifty years old, probably married with a houseful of grown children and thus unlikely to have designs on her virtue.
“Howdy, Stocker,” a well-dressed woman said as she approached. “My husband’s been looking for you.”
“What about, Daisy?”
“We lost more cows last night.”
“How many?”
“Bill doesn’t know, but it’s the second time since spring. There’s a meeting in the church now. You gotta come. Everybody’s waiting for you.”
He looked back to Tanzy, hesitating.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Go to your meeting.”
He still looked undecided, but when the woman pulled at his sleeve and said, “Stop wasting time,” he gave in and left.
Tanzy was relieved. She didn’t know what it was about Stocker that was so overpowering—his abundant self-confidence or his determination to bend others to his will—but she’d had more than enough of men who had no respect for the wishes of others. She intended to make it plain to Russ that she would not be his chattel, that he must respect her as a Woman and an individual. She felt confident the man in the letters would do that. She wasn’t at all sure about the man chasing the bandits.
The minutes continued to collect until another hour had passed. It would soon be dark. She couldn’t stay here. She gazed at the sun. It would set in an hour, maybe less. She stopped a boy who was kicking clods and picking his teeth with a straw. “Young man,” she said, “would you mind watching my luggage for a moment?”
“How much will you pay me?”
She had expected he would do it out of courtesy. “How much would you expect?”
“A dollar.”
“I can get a hotel room for that price. How about a nickel?”
“Don’t be gone long. I’m expected home for supper.”
The mention of food reminded Tanzy she hadn’t eaten since morning. She hoped she had enough money to pay for a room and her dinner.
“What’s your name?” Tanzy asked.
“Richard Benton, but everybody calls me Tardy.”
“Let me guess: because you’re never where you’re supposed to be on time.”
His smile was brazen and innocent at the same time. “Something like that.”
“Which hotel do you recommend?”
“A lady like you probably ought to stay in the Stocker Hotel, but if it was my money, I’d stay at the boardinghouse. They got the best food.”
The building he indicated didn’t look inviting. Neither did the men going in and out. “I think I’ll try the Stocker Hotel.”
“Thought you would. A lady wouldn’t want to be rubbing elbows at a trestle table with miners and whatnot.”
“I have no objection to miners, but I’m not so sure about the whatnots.”
Tardy grinned. “I’ll help you carry your luggage in for another nickel.”
Thanks. I’ll be right back.”
The Stocker Hotel appeared to be clean and neat, but that was about the best that could be said of it. The decorations were ordinary, the smell all too familiar.
“I’d like a room,” she said when the clerk appeared through a door behind the counter.
“It’ll be a dollar,” he said. She started to get her money. “You pay when you leave.”
“I’ll be here only one night. I’d rather pay now.”
“You have to sign the book,” he said. He took her money and turned the ledger toward her. She signed her name and turned it back.
Tanzy Gallant. But we already have a room reserved for you.”
“Where?”
“It’s right here in the book. It’s reserved for a whole week.”
Tanzy had said she wanted a week to get to know Russ before agreeing to marry him. It was only logical that he would have arranged for her to have a place to stay.
“I should have thought to check first,” Tanzy said.
“Where’s your luggage?” he asked, a crease appearing between his eyes.
Tardy Benton is watching it for me.”
“I’ll get someone to help you. He’s probably wandered off by now.”
“He’s already agreed to help. I’ll be back shortly.”
She’d nearly reached her luggage when a rider appeared down the street coming toward her at a gallop. Russ Tibbolt. His arm was wrapped with a bloody handkerchief. He was wounded. He slowed his horse as he approached her, came to a stop in front of her luggage.
Tanzy had been prepared to find he was handsome. She was prepared to find he was big and strong. She wasn’t prepared for the immediate tug of attraction. It wasn’t possible for this to happen so quickly, was it?
She should be worried about his wound. Instead she couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. She should be thinking about his integrity, the quality of his mind. Instead she noticed the width of his shoulders, the muscled power in his forearms. By the time she reached her luggage, she’d given up the struggle. Whatever magic this man practiced, it was too powerful for her to resist.
“Are you Tanzy Gallant?” Russ asked.
“Yes. What happened to your arm?”
“Somebody probably tried to kill him,” Tardy observed laconically. “One of these days they’re going to succeed.”
“One of the bandits got off a lucky shot before I could catch up with him,” Russ said.
“What were you doing chasing bandits?” Tardy asked, excitement shining in his eyes.
“Trying to make the world safe for useless boys like you. Now go about your business.”
Tardy drew himself up, the perfect picture of an outraged teenager. “I’m not a boy, I’m not useless, and I am about my business. This lady has hired me to take her luggage to the hotel.”
“Well, get going. It won’t walk over by itself.”
Tardy grabbed up a box tied with ropes and a portmanteau and stalked off.
Up close, Russ was even more handsome. Tanzy felt her pulses jump. This was the man who would be her husband. Mountain people were v
ery frank about their bodies, about what went on between men and women. What she hadn’t learned from her brothers, she’d learned from countless female cousins. The thought of being held in his arms, of him making love to her, gave her goose bumps.
He was tall, with shoulders wide enough to fill a doorway. And muscled. No skinny arms and chest showing ribs like her brothers. He looked powerful enough to pick two of them up and toss them into a wagon without taking a deep breath. It was hard to see much of his hair under that hat, but it was impossible not to be drawn to his gaze. His eyes were as dark blue as the sky before a storm. They glowed with an intensity that made her think of a panther stalking the forest by night. Whatever this man held to be his, he would keep safe with a passion whose heat she felt several feet distant from him.
She was jumping into the unknown again. She had such a strong sense of Russ Tibbolt from his letters that this jump didn’t seem as scary as it might otherwise be. She felt a pang of guilt, wondering if the letters he had received could possibly have communicated so much about her. In any case, whether Angela proved right or not about the benefits of being a mail-order bride, there was no turning back. She had to keep going.
“Sorry you had to wait so long,” he said as he dismounted. “It took me a while to catch those bandits.”
“That’s all right. I feel better knowing those men are in jail.”
“Why didn’t you go straight to the hotel?” he asked.
“I didn’t know you’d booked me a room.”
He frowned. “Archie didn’t tell you?”
“I don’t know who Archie is, but nobody told me.”
“He’s the old codger behind the desk.”
“There’s a younger man there now. Have you seen a doctor about your arm?”
“I haven’t had time.”
Tardy had come back. “Here’s your money,” Tanzy said, handing him two nickels.
“Thanks, ma’am,” he said, giving Russ a dirty look. He picked up the last piece of luggage, a small trunk, and headed to the hotel.
“You go on over to the hotel,” Russ said. “I have to stable my horse.”
“How long will that take?”
“Why?”
“I want a doctor to look at your arm.”
“I’ve already been, and he closed the door in my face.”
It took Tanzy a moment to understand the significance of what Russ had said. “Do you mean he refused to treat you?”
“What did you think I meant?”
She could hardly believe her ears. Even feuding families didn’t deny medical help to one another. It angered Tanzy that a western doctor wouldn’t show equal honor. “Come on. We’re going to the doctor’s house.”
“I told you what he said. I’m not going back.”
“Do you want ours to be a successful marriage?” Tanzy asked.
Russ looked too startled to answer.
“If you do, now is a good time to learn there will be times when you don’t ask why. You just do as I say.”
Chapter Two
Tanzy’s indignation hadn’t died down by the time she reached the doctor’s house. After Russ knocked three times without getting a response, it flared higher. The door was unlocked, so she opened it and walked in.
A woman came into the hallway. “Who are you?”
“Where’s the doctor? This man has been shot.”
“He’s about to sit down to dinner.”
“We won’t keep him long.”
“You won’t keep me at all.”
Tanzy turned to see a man of medium height, more than adequate girth, and a bald head come from what must be the dining room. He had a napkin tucked into his collar. “I’ve already told him not to come here again.”
“You are a doctor, aren’t you,” Tanzy asked, “not some quack who stuck up a shingle and calls himself a doctor?”
The man drew himself up. “My qualifications are beyond question.”
“Then get out your medical bag and see what you can do for this man.”
“No.”
Tanzy had expected him to refuse, but she hadn’t spent most of her life dealing with some of the most obstinate, pigheaded men God ever created to give up easily. On one side of the hallway she saw a parlor. Without hesitation she walked in. “This is a nice room,” she said. “You’ve put a lot of effort into decorating it.”
“This is my wife’s room,” the doctor said. “She’s responsible for everything you see.”
Then I imagine she wouldn’t want to see anything broken.”
“Of course not,” the doctor’s wife said.
“This is very pretty,” Tanzy said, picking up a piece of porcelain.
“It’s very expensive,” the doctor’s wife said proudly.
“Ask your husband to take care of Mr. Tibbolt’s arm.”
“I can’t do that. He’s not the kind of man—”
The porcelain figurine slipped from Tanzy’s fingers to the floor and shattered into tiny pieces. The doctor’s wife screamed.
Tanzy picked up another figurine. “Treat Russ’s arm.”
“I’ve already told you—”
The second figurine hit the floor. The doctor’s wife collapsed into a chair.
“She’s crazy,” the doctor said to Russ. “She’s destroying my wife’s figurines.”
“I’m sure the rest will be safe if you look at my arm.”
Tanzy picked up a third figurine, tossed it carelessly from one hand to the other. The doctor’s wife moaned in distress. “Do what they want, Arthur. Anything to get them out of this house.”
“You know I can’t, Endora. If I do—”
His wife sat bolt upright, her eyes wide with anger. “If she breaks one more piece of my china, I’ll make your life twice as miserable as Stocker Pullet ever could.”
Tanzy picked up a fourth figurine, looked from one to the other to decide which to sacrifice first.
“Arthur!” his wife screamed.
“Come with me,” the doctor said, “but you’re not to tell anyone you were here.”
“I’m coming, too,” Tanzy said. “I know a lot about gunshot wounds, so don’t think you’re going to do anything funny without my knowing.”
Russ had been in something of a daze from the moment he’d set eyes on Tanzy. He had been dead set against ordering a bride through the mail even though, after a lifetime of being ostracized by nearly everyone in Boulder Gap, he knew it was the only way he could find a respectable woman to marry him. He could hardly believe such a pretty woman would need to be a mail-order bride. What was wrong with the fools in St. Louis? Of course, there could be all kinds of things wrong with her that he couldn’t tell without getting to know her better, but his body didn’t seem to feel it needed to consider the matter further. Not even the pain in his arm had kept him from getting uncomfortably stiff.
Some men liked strong-willed women. He didn’t. Still, he admired Tanzy’s tactics. He’d have sworn nothing short of physical violence could have induced Dr. Arthur Lindstrom to treat his wound. Tanzy had managed it by breaking two small pieces of china.
“Let me see what you did to yourself,” the doctor said.
“He didn’t do it to himself,” Tanzy said.
The doctor didn’t reply. He removed the bloody bandanna. “This is hardly more than a flesh wound.”
“Don’t you treat flesh wounds?” Tanzy asked. “Or do you wait until someone gets a bullet in the chest before you bother? Where did you go to school?”
“In Scotland, but I doubt you know where that is.”
“It’s part of England,” Tanzy said. “Make sure you put some basilicum powder on that wound. I don’t want it to get infected.”
“Would you rather do this yourself?” the doctor demanded, irate.
“I just want to be sure you do it right. If he gets gangrene in that arm, there won’t be a piece of china left in this house.”
The doctor’s wife groaned. “Please, Arthur, get these peopl
e out of my home.”
“I’m doing my best, Endora.”
“If you just hadn’t turned him away this afternoon—”
“That’s water over the dam.”
Russ had never been able to force anyone in Boulder Gap to treat him with even common courtesy, yet Tanzy had the doctor doing his best to make sure his arm would heal quickly. He grinned. Tanzy Gallant was quite a woman.
“What are you grinning about?” the doctor growled.
“It’s a grimace, not a grin,” Russ said.
The doctor harrumphed. “I doubt you know the meaning of pain.”
“I know it, all right,” Russ said. “It’s just I usually don’t have time to pay attention to it.”
“Well, pay attention to this arm. I don’t want this madwoman in my house again.”
“You have a lovely house,” Tanzy said. “I might want to consult your wife when it comes time to decorate my own.”
“Who’d marry you?” the doctor’s wife asked.
“Don’t be a fool,” the doctor said. “All she’d have to do is stand in the street and they’d line up to propose.”
Until today Russ had only known Tanzy through her letters, but now she struck him as a woman full of principles she was aching to hold on to, and he wasn’t sure he wanted that kind of woman for a wife. What did he want in a wife? Someone to offer female companionship, bear his children, take care of his house He didn’t need a woman of courage and strong ideals. He had more than enough for both of them. He certainly hadn’t asked for beauty. If his mother and sister were anything to go by, that was a recipe for disaster.
“There,” the doctor said, stepping back. “I’ve done all I can for you. Keep it elevated and keep it clean.”
“How much do I owe you?” Russ asked. “I’m not paying for the china,” he said when the doctor turned to his wife.
“Nothing, if you promise never to let that woman set foot in my house again.”
“I can’t promise that, so how much do I owe you?”
“Two dollars.”
Russ paid and they left quickly. He couldn’t repress a smile when he heard the deadbolt click behind him. “Do you always go a little crazy when you don’t get your way?”
The Reluctant Bride Page 2