The Lawman’s Frontier Bride

by Maya Stirling

  "Forget I said that," she blurted out abruptly.

  Removing his hands, Tate strode back to his horse, untied it from the tree and mounted. Gazing across at Gretchen, he knew he'd have to say something, anything, to distract them both. He cleared his throat. "And keep your stirrups in close to the pinto's side. Don't let your feet drift out too far."

  "I sure will," she replied, too quickly, he told himself. He wasn't the only one feeling awkward about this whole idea, now. But, all he had to do was remind himself that, back there somewhere, Frank Wolfe and his outfit would be welcoming Billy back. And then they would find out about what had happened at Refuge. Maybe Frank would decide to see for himself.

  That thought triggered urgency in Tate. "Let's get going," he said to Gretchen.

  Starting forward along the trail Tate reminded himself that they had a few hours until dark. It was roughly a hundred miles to Inspiration. By the end of the day they would have covered maybe fifteen. Tate figured that he and Gretchen would be able to cover up to thirty miles a day, mostly at walking pace. Added to that would be stops to rest the horses. And stops for Gretchen to get used to long days riding.

  Tate was used to long rides across difficult terrain. Wyoming had plenty of rough country and Montana was much the same. Riding in pursuit, as a part of a posse, had been his life for years, ever since he'd been a deputy to the sheriff at Laramie at the age of eighteen.

  Glancing across at Gretchen, he asked himself if he would ever get a chance to tell her the truth about his life. About who he really was.

  The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that day might never come. It would be too dangerous for her to know the truth. The less she knew the better.

  For now, he'd have to live with his secret, and hope he got her to Inspiration before Frank Wolfe got the idea in his head to come after Tate.

  CHAPTER NINE

  By late afternoon, Gretchen was starting to feel frustrated. Tate just wouldn't stop telling her what to do. Anyone would think he was her boss, she told herself as their horses started to make their way up the slope of a hill toward a distant ridge. She did feel tired. The last few hours of riding were already taking their toll. Her back ached and her thighs were starting to hurt. The longest she'd ridden a horse back East had been during pleasant times spent on her uncle's farm. But that was nothing like what she and Tate were doing. She wondered how she was going to survive another three whole days of this.

  Tate had been quiet for the last hour or so. After their first disagreement over how she was sitting on the pinto, Tate had lapsed into silence. Then they'd stopped by a creek to attend to their personal needs. That had been awkward, Gretchen told herself. Tate had been diplomatic and courteous, giving her all the time she needed. He'd even suggested a safe place where she could attend to her needs. Thankfully, he'd gone for a short stroll while she'd been busy.

  Before setting out with Tate, Gretchen hadn't given much consideration to such basic aspects of an outdoor journey. The next few days would be an education for her. She'd need to learn how to eat coarse food, stay on her horse, attend to the necessary calls of nature, and sleep outside beneath the stars. It was going to be a challenge.

  Whether she liked it or not, Tate was her guide and instructor. She'd already gathered that he knew exactly what he was doing out here in this beautiful but demanding wilderness. He'd told her he was a drifter. A cowboy. The suggestion was that, in some respects he was an idle man. Gretchen had the distinct impression Tate was holding something back. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but occasionally Tate was abrupt with her. Especially once when she'd asked him to tell her more about where he'd grown up. He may have claimed to be an idle drifter, but Gretchen was beginning to suspect there was more to Tate Campbell than that.

  But, now that they were out in the wilderness, Gretchen had seen no signs of Tate's idleness. On the contrary. She'd already seen plenty of evidence that he knew how to survive outdoors. Maybe she would make it safely to Inspiration, after all, she told herself.

  Lifting her heart up, she thanked her Lord for bringing Tate into her life at just the right moment. She also thanked the Lord for getting out of Refuge safe and sound. Gretchen was accustomed to offering up thanks to God. Her family had brought her up to have a strong faith. It had always been important to her. In Sophie Cameron's letters, it had been the mention that the little town to which Gretchen was journeying had a thriving, godly community and vibrant church life that had made Gretchen's mind up. She hoped she'd be able to find a husband who shared her own firm faith.

  Thinking back to the Bible which Tate had given her, Gretchen wondered how strong was Tate's faith. He hadn't shared any details of that. Gretchen decided she'd use the next few days to find out.

  The only thing she had to learn how to cope with now was his infuriating habit of giving her orders. Back East, that had never been a part of her life. Her mother had brought Gretchen up to be independent and strong-willed. The only problem with that was it had resulted in Gretchen developing a stubborn streak which bordered on unseemly pride. She'd battled with herself this last few hours, biting her tongue each time Tate had issued a demand. She wondered how long she was going to be able to maintain her self-control.

  The horses crested the top of the ridge. It had been a long climb and the horses clearly needed a rest.

  Tate lifted his hand. "Let's stop here, a while. These horses need a breather." Tate gazed out across the distant landscape.

  Tate dismounted and came to Gretchen's horse. Reaching up, he made it clear he wanted to help her down from her mount. Leaning sideways, and resting both legs against the side of her horse, Gretchen let herself settle into Tate's powerful grasp. Her booted feet landed softly on the grass covering of the wide, flat plateau. Tate didn't immediately release his gentle hold on her waist. His icy-blue eyes shimmered with barely disguised delight. Gretchen felt her cheeks flush with heat. Tate moved his hands away and leaned one on his hip.

  "That's quite a view, don't you think?" Tate said glancing over Gretchen's shoulder.

  Gretchen had been so occupied with following behind Tate's horse that she hadn't taken the time to take in the view.

  She turned in the direction of Tate's gaze. Now that she could see the land spread out before them, all she could do was gasp. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "That's beautiful."

  Tate tipped his hat back. "It sure is."

  From their position at the top of a high promontory, it seemed like the whole of Montana was spread out before them. She could see for miles, all the way to distant mountain peaks. Laid out, as if for her personal delight, was the most astonishing landscape she'd ever seen. Lifting her hand, she shaded her eyes. The bright sun shone down on dense forests, winding rivers, broad valleys and rolling hills. The colors and the brightness made her eyes narrow as she tried to take it all in. This was the Montana of her dreams. A sumptuous land filled with promise, glowing with the beauty God had bestowed upon it. After all the hard work of the last few hours, her heart warmed with joy at this wondrous sight.

  Tate pointed a hand back in an easterly direction. "If you look closely, you can see the train line. And there. You can see Refuge."

  Squinting her eyes, Gretchen saw the town they'd left hours before. From here it was nothing more than a dark smudge of buildings near the silvery train tracks. It seemed like such a long way away. "Have we really come that far?" she asked.

  "About ten miles or so."

  Gretchen frowned up at Tate. "Is that all? It feels like a lot more than that."

  "I told you. We'll probably make thirty miles a day, if we keep our pace steady," Tate said. He lifted a querying brow. "If you can keep up."

  Gretchen thrust a fist against her side and faced Tate. "Of course I can keep up. What makes you think I won't be able to?"

  Tate grinned. "I've seen the way you've been complaining on that horse."

  "I haven't said a word," she objected.

  "Not yet. Wait
until you've been riding a day or two and then tell me how you feel." He laughed. "I brought earplugs. Just in case."

  Gretchen gasped loudly. "You won't hear a word out of me," she snapped. "I promise you."

  Turning away from Tate, she folded her arms and forced her attention on to the beautiful view. Anything to distract herself from his taunting remarks.

  "I'll see to the horses," Tate announced. She could still hear the amusement in his voice.

  "You do that," Gretchen told him without even turning around.

  She heard the sounds of him working. Glancing around, she saw that he was bending down to inspect the legs of her horse. He quickly looked up at her and smiled mischievously. She scoffed and then whirled her head around. He could be such an annoying man, she told herself. But he was all she had. Seeing this landscape, laid out before her, she realized just how isolated she was. Just how important Tate was to her. This was true wilderness. It was filled with beauty and delights. But it also held hidden dangers. Natural ones. And, even man-made ones, too. She was under no illusions about where she was. This was frontier territory.

  Tate Campbell was her only protection against those dangers. Maybe the best thing she could do would be to co-operate with him as much as possible. But she'd also have to maintain her boundaries. Tate wasn't the only one who needed to keep those close to them at arms length.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tate decided to make camp for the night near a grove of trees by a creek which ran through a wide valley. They'd made good progress since stopping at the ridge, earlier. Gretchen hadn't uttered a word of complaint, but he could see she was having a hard time. That was only to be expected. This was a new experience for her. It would take her a couple of days to get used to the pace.

  Tate guided his mustang into the trees, bending low to make his way beneath low-hanging branches, and found a clear area. He figured it would a be a good place to sleep for the night. He dismounted and tied his horse's reins to a tree branch. Moving quickly to Gretchen's mount, he took the reins from her hands and watched as she dismounted. He saw her flinch as she moved carefully off the pinto. Once on the ground, she stretched her back. Drawing him a steady look she asked: "What?"

  "Nothing. Just checking."

  "That I'm not injured? Or are you enjoying my suffering?" she asked.

  "I wasn't aware you were having a hard time," Tate replied and grinned. Taking her horse's reins he tied it alongside his own mount.

  Glancing back at her, through the low branches, he saw her frown. Tate figured he'd done enough to irritate her today. More than once they'd traded sharp words since leaving the high ridge. He would just have to keep on making allowances for her inexperience. If he could do that without getting under her skin, then they'd get through the next few days with their friendship intact.

  The light was dying slowly. It would be dark in less than an hour. He was thankful it was summer. The long days gave them a chance to make good progress. The nights would be short, and he hoped they'd both get enough sleep. Gazing up through the canopy of branches, he saw the clear sky. A cloudless sky might be good for gazing at the stars but it meant a cold night was coming. Even though it was summer, the Montana nights could be chilly. He'd have to make sure Gretchen was well wrapped up during the night.

  First, though, there was the matter of food. He'd packed enough supplies for four days. Dried beef, tins of beans and sourdough biscuits would have to suffice for the duration, he told himself. He knew it wasn't appetizing, but it would keep them from being hungry. With his Sharps rifle there was always the chance he could shoot some game. But he wasn't banking on that.

  Gretchen walked slowly toward Tate as he started to remove the pack from his horse. He took the two bedrolls and the pack and made his way to the small clearing near the creek. Gretchen followed him and halted by his side.

  "I'll get the fire going," Tate said. "We need to eat before we turn in."

  Gretchen looked at the pack. "What have you got in there?"

  "Nothing too tasty, I'm afraid. Basic stuff. Meat, beans and biscuits."

  Gretchen's brows lifted. "Mmmm. That sounds delicious," she said and gave him a wry smile. "Can I help?"

  Tate shook his head. "I'll build the fire. It won't take long." He handed her the bedrolls. "If you want, you can lay these out." He gazed around the open area and pointed to the nearby trees. "Maybe over there is good. Beneath the trees."

  Gretchen took the bedrolls and went to where he'd indicated. She put the bedrolls down. Tate watched Gretchen carefully as she started to set out the bedrolls. She moved slowly and tentatively as if she was trying to accustom herself to this completely new task. He understood how difficult all of this must be for her. It all must seem like a new world, he told himself.

  "Are you okay over there?" Tate asked.

  Gretchen lifted her head and smiled. "Sure," she replied. There was a hint of defiance in her voice. Just like there had been throughout the entire day, Tate reflected. He was beginning to get used to that. Even starting to like it in a strange way.

  Soon, the fire was going strong, the coffee had been made and he was sitting across from Gretchen. Each of them was sitting back against their saddles which would later be used as makeshift pillows. They each had a small metal plate in the lap. Upon it was laid the foods which he had retrieved his saddlebag. He knew it was basic fare. But it would have to do. Tate watched as Gretchen picked at her food carefully. He didn't find it particularly appetizing. Once they reached Inspiration they would be able to enjoy some decent food. For the next three days, they'd have to get used to being hungry.

  The temperature had dropped and it was cooler now. The twilight wrapped itself around the forest. Tate felt everything close in around him. He was here, alone with Gretchen, and it felt good. However he was sure she wouldn't be feeling the same as him. She was out in the wilderness with someone who was almost a complete stranger. And she was about to sleep outside, probably, he guessed, for the first time in her life.

  "It's been quite a day hasn't it?" he asked.

  Gretchen nodded. "I guess so," she said quietly.

  "Once you've spent some time in the outdoors you'll get used to it," Tate observed.

  "You think so?"

  Tate nodded. "It kinda gets into your bones, after a while." He leaned back against the hard saddle. "Pretty soon, you'll wonder how you lived without it."

  Gretchen nodded. "I guess that depends."

  "On what?"

  Gretchen gazed across at him. The fire reflected in her eyes. "On who I marry."

  Tate's breath halted in his chest. He worked hard to school his features. They'd gone the whole day without mentioning her upcoming marriage. All he could do was nod his head and then force his attention back to his food.

  "Have you always lived an outdoor life?" Gretchen asked abruptly.

  Tate felt himself caught out by the suddenness of the change in subject. He shifted and moved his food around on his plate trying to gather his thoughts. How much should he tell her? How much would it be safe for her to know? He knew he would have to tell her the truth at some point, but he was willing to wait. She had enough to be worrying about with the journey.

  "My family owned a ranch in Wyoming," Tate stated.

  "You grew up on a ranch?" Gretchen asked sounding impressed.

  "It isn't as glamorous or as exciting as you think," Tate said. "There's a whole lot of hard work involved in running a ranch," he added.

  Gretchen frowned. "I didn't think for a minute that it would be easy," she replied. "I've read about ranching."

  "You have?"

  Gretchen nodded. "I read a few books about the West before I came out here," she said. "I figured it would be better for me to know as much as possible before I arrived."

  "There's only so much you can learn from books," Tate said.

  "I know that," she said with a hint of sharpness in her voice. He was still treading carefully, trying to find out just how far he could g
o with her. How far he could push her. She had her limits and he was only beginning to discover them.

  "Do your parents still own the ranch?"

  Tate shook his head. "My parents passed years back. That's when we lost the ranch."

  Glancing up, he saw her features darken. For a moment she seemed lost for words.

  "Before you ask, I don't have any brothers or sisters. There is only me. After my parents passed away I went to live with my uncle in Laramie. He owned a mercantile in town. And that was pretty much my life from when I left the schoolhouse."

  Gretchen lowered her head and was silent for a few moments. Finally, she looked at him. "It seems like we've got something in common," she said softly. "My parents passed away when I was twelve. Like you, I don't have any brothers or sisters. I went to live with my aunt in Philadelphia. She was the one who had the brother who owned the farm in Pennsylvania. But mostly I spent my life in the city. My aunt moved in polite society circles."

  At first, Tate wasn't sure what to make of that. But, he'd already witnessed Gretchen's fine manners. The hints at her good upbringing.

  Gretchen laid her plate down on the grass next to her and stood. Wrapping her arms around herself she walked to the edge of the enclosure. Tate laid his plate down, rose quickly and went to Gretchen's side. It seemed like the simple sharing of their personal histories had triggered some emotions. And it wasn't just Gretchen who was feeling those emotions, Tate told himself.

  Standing alongside her, he followed her gaze as she peered up into the star sprinkled sky. Through an opening in the forest's canopy he could see the star-filled immensity of the Montana sky. She gasped contentedly as she peered up at the star-sprinkled sky. "This is amazing," she exclaimed breathlessly. "I have never seen so many stars."

  "The beauty of God's creation," Tate murmured.

  Gretchen turned to him and lifted a brow. She seemed impressed. "That's exactly what I was thinking," she said incredulously.