Most Unsuitable Courtship

by Clemmons, Caroline

  “Where did you go?”

  “We thought we could make a home in a new town.” She shook her head, hating the images that haunted her. “Always people made trouble for us and we moved from one place to another. Finally, we made our way to the sea, and he bought tickets for us to come to America. He had been telling everyone I was his granddaughter.”

  He raised his brows. “But instead you married?”

  “Ja, men would not leave me alone at the port, bad men who listened to no one. Like these men today. Easy to see it was that he could not defend me because of his age, even though this was years ago.” She rubbed her arms, wishing she could wipe away the horror. “Abram arranged for us to be married. He had a ring with the jewels and money he carried with him.” She displayed a gold band. “I cannot understand why, but if a woman is married, men do not bother her as much.”

  The waitress delivered their dinner of chicken and dumplings.

  “Sure smells good.” Storm tasted his food and grimaced. “Not nearly as good as my sisters make.”

  After sampling the dumplings, Rena agreed. “Nor as good as mine, but I am glad to have this meal.”

  “Me, too. I was so hungry my stomach thought I’d died.”

  “That’s why it rumbled so like thunder after close lightning. You must eat a great deal to feed your . . . large size.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I can’t find the right words in English.”

  “Seems to me you’re doing well, lots better than my German.”

  She set down her fork. “You speak Deutsch?”

  With a shake of his head, he swallowed. “Not much. There are a lot of German families near where I live. I couldn’t help picking up a little, but not enough to carry on a conversation.”

  “Abram insisted we practice English each night. He was very smart and taught me to read in Deutsch and English, but neither of us learned Spanish. Although to me it sounds a bit like Italian. Here there are many Mexican people.” She forked up another bite of food.

  “Sure are. I speak their lingo. A lot of my friends are Mexican, or their families came from Mexico.”

  “What is this ‘lingo’?”

  “Language. You just concentrate on your English and you’ll be fine.”

  They fell silent and devoured their dinner. Rena thought she’d never been so hungry. When she reconsidered, she knew she had. Why else would she and her father have been willing to part with any of the jewelry her mother had inherited?

  After dinner, they climbed the stairs to their room. Wariness overcame Rena. So far, this giant man had been gentle and kind. But could she trust him? He appeared strong and virile. Handsome as he was, he probably had many women who offered to sleep with him in the Biblical way.

  He had offered to have separate rooms, so perhaps he had no designs on her virtue. She couldn’t let him out of her sight or he would abandon her. Oh, she knew he would leave her money to live on here in town, but she vowed to find those men.

  Inside their room, she grew shy. She’d never shared a bedroom with anyone but Abram, and they’d slept on separate cots. True this man was the most handsome she’d ever seen, but he was too large. His size and strength made her wary and set her nerves further on edge. Would he try to force himself on her?

  He turned to her. “You get ready for bed. I’ll give you some privacy and go ask the clerk for paper to write Sheriff Braddock a note. Someone has to be in charge of the town while the sheriff’s away and I’ll see if I can find him.” He locked the door behind him.

  Quickly, she prepared for bed and slipped between the covers. She left the lamp burning for him.

  When he returned, he once again locked the door behind him. “Found the man watching out for the townspeople. Gave him a note for Braddock in case we miss connecting up with him.” He lowered the lamp.

  She heard his boots hit the floor, followed by the sound of his bedroll sliding across the hardwood planks. Soon he sighed and she thought he must have climbed into his bedding. Guilt nudged her that she had a mattress and he had only a thin covering between him and the floor.

  When his breathing signaled he slept, she relaxed. Perhaps he really could sleep on a bed of rocks as he’d said. She curled into a ball and prayed for comfort and justice. Was it wrong to pray for things she doubted she’d see in her lifetime?

  ###

  Rena appreciated the brilliant sunrise as they left town the next morning. Perhaps their quest would end today and she could reclaim all of Abram’s wealth and her jewelry. She looked at the man who rode beside her.

  Because the lawman had acquired a second saddle, she rode the chestnut he called Brownie with her new saddlebags and valise behind her. Sitting astride Brownie suited her better. The larger horse frightened her.

  “Where are we going next?”

  “Cutting across country.” He glanced her way. “I think they’re wrong, but Braddock and his posse headed toward Mexico. From the trail I’ve followed, I believe the men we’re after will ride toward the Red River.” He sent her an assessing stare. “Can you keep up yesterday’s pace?”

  She hid her fear and doubt with a haughty glare. “Of course. Can you?”

  “We’ll see.” He urged his large horse faster.

  That morning they stopped twice to rest the horses. When the sun was high overhead, Storm turned into a grove of trees.

  “As soon as I rub down the horses, we can eat. Watch for varmints before you sit down.”

  Unfamiliar with riding so long, once again her legs threatened to fold under her. She staggered to a tree and held on until her body readjusted to walking. She watched the handsome lawman. He appeared unaffected and walked with swift and efficient strides.

  After checking for snakes, she sat on a large rock. Already her bones ached and muscles protested. She craved rest but would never give in. To retrieve her property and kill those men, she’d chase the outlaws into hell. And she suspected that’s where they were headed.

  He handed her a piece of thick bread which held pieces of beef. “Cook let me buy bread and beef from last night’s leftovers.”

  The pungent aroma fueled her hunger. She chewed, savoring the hearty food, and then swallowed. “Is very good, better than the dumplings.”

  “I have more for supper. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck with what I cook for us unless you can cook on the trail.”

  She nodded. “Abram cooked also. He lived alone for many years before he met me, but he made only a few things.” She sighed at the memory of their strange arrangement. Certainly, she hadn’t thought of theirs as a marriage. But Abram treated her kindly, as he would have a daughter or granddaughter. Lucky for her he had been a fine man. “At least I helped him by cooking and cleaning.”

  “My oldest sister raised our younger sister and me. She insisted each of us know how to cook and do all the household chores. My grandfather also taught me many things about hunting and tracking.”

  She glanced down at soiled shirt and britches. “I know I look odd and not like a lady in Abram’s trousers, but why was that man at the hotel so rude to you?”

  “He thought I was an Indian.” He passed her the canteen.

  “So did I until I saw your eyes. They are unusual and nice.” She tilted her head to examine his face. “But I think you truly are a part Indian, ja?”

  “I’m half Cherokee. My eyes are like those of my father and sisters. My mother named me Eyes Like A Storm Cloud, but called me Storm.”

  She drank thirstily and then smiled at him. “You are not the bad kind of Indian?”

  He grinned at her and his beautiful eyes twinkled like amethyst gems. “Afraid I’ll scalp you?”

  “I don’t think Federal Marshalls scalp people.”

  “No, we arrest them if we can.” The sparkle in his eyes disappeared. “We only kill them if we can’t take them in alive. Do you understand that, Rena?”

  “Ja, but I am not a lawman. I will shoot those men if I can.” She shook her head. “Do not think you can change my min
d.”

  He ate in silence and she regretted angering him. “You were born in Texas?”

  “In southwestern Tennessee. I was fourteen when my oldest sister—her name is Pearl—married Drake Kincaid and we came to Texas. My younger sister is Sarah.”

  “They are part Cherokee with hair like yours?”

  He shook his head. “We have different mothers, but we all have the same color eyes like those of our father. My sisters are blond like him. After they married, Pearl’s husband adopted Sarah and me. So we share his last name of Kincaid.”

  A wistful mood engulfed her, coupled with the sense she had no one in the world. “Always I wanted family. I think I might have cousins somewhere, but I never met them. Muti died when I was ten. Vati was not well and worked not enough for us to have much.”

  “What was wrong with him?”

  “The doctor said a bad chest from working in the mines. There are many types of mines where we lived—copper, lead, salt. He worked in the copper mine until he grew too weak.”

  “I’ve heard mining is a hard life. I wouldn’t work underground.” He shrugged. “At least, not if there was any other way to earn a living.”

  “It was all Vati knew, and then he was too ill to learn another way to make a living.”

  “How old were you when he died?”

  She couldn’t hide the depression that overwhelmed her with the recollection. “Thirteen. Then when I was fifteen Abram and I married.”

  “And how long were you married?”

  “If you are asking my age, I am twenty-one.”

  “Four years younger than me.” He smiled. “A mere girl.” Then he stood and faced her. “You rested enough to move on?”

  She used her handkerchief to wipe her hands before she stood. “Ja. The faster we travel, the sooner I get my things.”

  “Why don’t you put your braid up inside your hat? That way, at first glance, you might be mistaken for a man.”

  She took off her hat. “You should have told me this at the hotel when I could have fastened my hair. Now I can only shove it up.”

  Rena had no idea where they were. She knew they headed mostly north. Trusting a man she didn’t know bothered her, but she had no choice. Surely she fared better in the company of a strong lawman than if she were alone.

  A brisk southerly wind pushed at them all afternoon. At dusk, they rode down a ravine and stopped where the sides created a shield from the air currents. Shadows enveloped them, creating eerie shapes wherever she looked. Skin on her arms prickled and she welcomed the lawman’s companionship in this sinister place.

  He held a finger to his lips to signal quiet. “I can’t start a fire. Didn’t want to frighten you, but I picked up a trail a while back. We’ll make cold camp here then leave before daylight.” He gestured to an area nearby. “Make your bed on the sand over there. Take off your shoes, but shake them good before you put them on in the morning.”

  While he cared for the horses, she unrolled the new bedroll he’d tied behind her saddle. “Why do you think the trail is of those men?”

  He made a shushing sound. “Softly. When I was at your place, I memorized the prints. You might think all horseshoes are the same, but they aren’t. Neither are men’s boot prints. I’ve been following the prints and I’m sure two are horses that were at your farm.”

  She shuddered and peered around. “We are close to them?”

  “Not too close, but we have to be quiet and can’t light a fire.”

  Her skin prickled again and she rubbed her arms. “What if they come while we are asleep?”

  “They won’t. Thunder will sound the alarm.”

  “Your horse? Does he talk then?”

  He chuckled softly. “Almost. He’ll nicker in a certain way if strangers approach. Go to sleep. We’ll have a hard day tomorrow. I’ll keep watch for a while.”

  If his horse would alert them to strangers, why did the lawman need to keep watch? But this unusual man must be good at tracking if he recognized horseshoes and boot prints. How would she have found these men without help?”

  She had her revolver, but how good would she be shooting at men instead of twigs? Besides, she carried the bullets in her pocket. Would she have ridden right into their camp? Probably so, she knew nothing of tracking or defending herself. In spite of the fact he wished her elsewhere, she gave thanks Storm Kincaid and she had joined forces.

  “Will you try to capture the men tonight?”

  “Not here. Not now. They’d have the advantage on me tonight in this place. And if I was killed, there’d be no one to help you.” He rolled out his own bedroll.

  “Do not think you must wait because of me. I also can shoot at them and kill at least one.”

  He paused and gripped her shoulders. “But you admitted you’ve never shot a person. Don’t think I’m insulting you, but I don’t know if you really could. Killing a human is not as easy for people of conscience as you apparently think it is.” He released her and resumed bedding down for the night.

  The memory haunted her of poor Abram as those men tortured him. How could she not kill men who were that evil? “I have enough hate in my heart to kill each of those men if I had the opportunity.”

  He didn’t look at her as he bent to straighten his bed for the night. “The odds aren’t good in this spot. I’ll trail them until I have more advantage.”

  He meant he would wait because of her. She knew he planned to leave her in the next town and go after the men alone. Even though she was afraid of the men they chased, she planned to stick with Storm. He might think she would hesitate, but she knew she could kill at least one of those men if given the opportunity.

  At the same time, being near the evil men who killed with pleasure frightened her. If she could snuggle with Storm, she would not worry so much. Why had such a scandalous thought popped into her head? The idea shocked her. She was widowed only two days ago.

  She deeply grieved poor Abram’s death. But his loss had been that of a friend and protector and family, not a husband. Often she had wondered how she would react to a strong, appealing man. Her response to this handsome lawman answered her question.

  Storm created surprising sensations within her she had never before experienced. Surely wanting to be close to Storm meant no disrespect to Abram. Oh, she could not think of such things now with those killers nearby.

  Rena removed her halfboots and crawled into the bedroll. She wriggled until she found an almost comfortable spot then stared up at the night sky. Stars twinkled above as if were an ordinary night, but fiendish murderers slept close enough to hear if she spoke too loudly. Never would she sleep a wink knowing those devils lurked nearby.

  What seemed only seconds later, Storm gently shook her shoulder. “Time to get moving.”

  Chapter Four

  After only two hours riding, Storm saw smoke billowing on the horizon. He urged Thunder into a gallop. Could they get there in time to help the owners of the fire’s source?

  Rena trailed behind him. He hoped he could protect her from the sight he feared awaited. Sure enough, the flames billowed from a small home. A man lay in the yard. Nearby, a woman’s skirts identified the other victim. She lay on her side, arms stretched toward the body of a child about two.

  Storm leaped from his horse and hurried to the victims. The man had been beaten and shot several times. The child had been shot once in the head. The woman had been beaten and raped. As if that weren’t enough, her breasts had been severed and tossed aside. Blood from the atrocity stained her mostly bare body and torn clothing.

  Hard as a fist, disgust punched him in the gut for her brutal treatment. Men who would torment anyone as they had this poor woman were a blot on humanity. What kind of men even thought of these horrific deeds?

  He whirled toward Rena. “Stay back.”

  She dismounted and hurried toward the child. “A baby? They killed a baby?”

  Then she caught sight of the mother. “Och, meine Gott! She turned away, sa
nk to her knees, and retched.

  He went to her, keeping watch in case the killers lurked nearby. He patted her back with soothing motions and wished she hadn’t spotted the woman and child. But maybe now that she’d witnessed more of these vicious men’s work, she would agree to wait in the next town.

  He helped her stand when she had emptied her stomach and heaving stopped. “Wait over by that tree. I’ll get a shovel and bury them.”

  With a shake of her head, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “I will see to the woman. She should have her dignity restored after her shameful treatment. You dig while I look for something to wrap around them.”

  He admired her grit. “Wait, I’ll check what’s left of the house.” He pulled up his bandana and darted inside. When he emerged, he dragged bedding and dropped it on the ground. Stomping on the flames, he saved part of the coverings.

  She examined what remained of the cloth. “That’s enough to wrap them. You should put them in one grave together.”

  He picked up a shovel leaning against the building. “Planned to. Can’t waste time digging three holes.” He tapped the ground with the spade. “Not in this hard surface.”

  They set about their jobs. When he checked on her, tears streamed down her face as she sought to restore the woman’s clothes. She’d replaced the severed breasts to the woman’s remains. Then, Rena moved to the baby, running her hands along the soft hair.

  Storm shared her sorrow for this poor family. He wanted to comfort Rena further, but his goal was to finish here quickly and track the killers. When they reached San Saba, he would make certain she remained in the town until he returned for her.

  What if he were killed? No guarantee he wouldn’t be. He’d give her a letter to his family and the money to travel to Kincaid Springs. They’d see she had a home and take her into their fold.

  Rena finished first. “The ground, it is hard, ja?”

  His shoulders jarred from each shovel of earth chipped from the soil and his back protested. “Sure is. I can’t dig deep with my small shovel. We’ll have to cover the grave with rocks like we did for Abram.”