The Independent Bride

by Leigh Greenwood

  They were interrupted by Zeb coming into the room. He approached the colonel and said something so softly Abby couldn’t hear it. She could tell from his expression it wasn’t good news.

  “You’d better tell the ladies,” Bryce said. “It’s rightly their business.”

  “What is it?” Abby asked Zeb.

  “It’s the ranchers you wanted to ask about selling beef to the Indians,” Zeb said.

  “I hope they all didn’t offer to sell. I don’t know how I’d decide which to buy from first.”

  “That won’t be a problem because none of them will sell to you.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “There were fourteen names on the list,” Abby said, unable to believe her ears. “Did the soldiers ask everyone?”

  “If you want, I can bring one of them in and you can ask him yourself.”

  “That would be a good idea,” Bryce said. Zeb quickly left the room.

  Bryce had said it was out of the question for Abby to ride over half the territory by herself. He had sent two soldiers to speak to the ranchers for her. She had been certain she’d have more offers than she could accept.

  “I don’t understand,” Abby said to Bryce. “Did Baucom have trouble getting people to sell to him?”

  “The herds were usually attacked, but enough cattle always managed to get through to keep things from turning ugly.”

  “Who paid for the cows that were lost?”

  “I assume the ranchers absorbed the loss. You can understand why they don’t want to lose cattle plus get their men shot up.”

  Abby didn’t have any idea how, but she was certain Hinson had somehow managed to profit from the ranchers’ trouble.

  “These ladies would like a report on your efforts,” Bryce said to the young soldier who entered the room in Zeb’s wake.

  “Me and Frank—that’s Private Sturgess, ma’am—we went to every ranch on the list. Some of them was right far way. I thought accommodations here at the fort was pretty bad, but you wouldn’t believe what some people live like. Mud and sticks is what I seen in some places. Bugs, too. Why in one place—”

  “The ladies don’t want a discussion of living conditions,” Bryce told the young man. “Confine your report to what the ranchers told you.”

  “Yes, sir!” the soldier said, obviously disappointed at being unable to relate what he thought was much more interesting information. “Everybody me and Frank asked said they wasn’t driving any beef to the Indian reservation. They said you wasn’t paying them enough to take that kind of risk. A bunch of them has been shot up these last two months and don’t want no part of it.”

  Abby was floored. She had to find someone who would sell to her. If she didn’t, she’d lose the contract. And if she lost her contract, she’d lose the money to stock her store. If she couldn’t get stock for the store … the consequences fell like dominoes until they spelled ruin.

  “I thought western men were supposed to be afraid of nothing,” Abby said.

  “Those ranchers are afraid of something,” the young man said.

  “What do you mean?” Bryce asked.

  “I got to talking to some of the hands. It was pretty lonely riding all over by myself,” he said when Bryce gave him a stem look. “It weren’t polite to refuse when they offered me a little refreshment. Anyway,” he said, pushing ahead, “one of them said they’d been told anybody trying to deliver cows to the reservation would be met by a vicious gang of rustlers determined to starve out the Indians, and they didn’t care how many cowhands they had to kill to do it.”

  “The government is obligated to feed those poor people,” Abby said.

  “They said if the government didn’t feed the Indians, they’d go on the warpath. Then the army would have to kill them. They said once the army got rid of the Indians, the Territories would be safe for everybody.”

  Abby turned to Bryce. She was certain he didn’t like what he’d heard, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “Maybe I should ask them in person,” Abby said.

  “Anyone strong enough to threaten fourteen ranchers won’t quibble at stopping one woman.”

  “The Indians have to have something to eat. If they don’t—” She didn’t want to finish the sentence. Everyone knew what would happen.

  “Most of the cows I saw didn’t look like they had enough meat on them to feed a family for more than a week,” the young man said. “They was skinny as coyotes.”

  “That’s what Texas longhorns look like,” Bryce said. “They don’t carry much meat, but they’re nearly as fast and agile as antelope.”

  “I saw one ranch that had fat cows.”

  “Which one was that?” Abby asked.

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t on the list. I was told it was run by a murderer.”

  “Anything else?” Bryee asked.

  “No, sir.”

  “You did a good job. You’re dismissed.”

  The young man saluted Bryce and left.

  Abby felt desperate. As she had done in the past, she turned to Bryce. “What can I do?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” he said. “I don’t like this business of threatening the ranchers, but I can’t force them to sell their beef.”

  “I have to talk to them,” Abby said. She knew that was what she had to do even if getting to the various ranches would be difficult.

  “I can’t allow you to travel to all those ranches,” Bryce said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Once they understand starving the Indians would force them to leave their reservation, I’m sure they’ll change their minds,” Abby said.

  “You don’t understand how much people out here fear Indians,” Bryce said. “Many Indians have been friendly and many more have remained on their reservations, but there have also been attacks and massacres in the past. It’s very easy for an unscrupulous person to play on people’s fears, especially those who’re isolated, like ranchers and farmers. There are also many people who feel all Indians ought to be exterminated.”

  “Do you think that?” Abby asked, aghast that anyone would advocate the extermination of a whole race.

  “What I think isn’t the issue. Fear is, and there’s more than enough fear on each side to cause a major confrontation.”

  “Then it’s even more important I speak to the ranchers personally,” Abby said, her resolve hardening even as she began to consider the difficulties. “I couldn’t live with myself if I thought my failure could cause so many people to be killed.”

  “You can’t head off as if this is St. Louis,” Moriah said. “Listen to Colonel McGregor. He knows much more about living out here than we do.”

  “I’ll be perfectly happy to listen to him explain how to do this safely,” Abby said, annoyed at her sister’s betrayal, “but I won’t listen if he tries to talk me out of it. This is much too important for me to back down because of worries about my own safety. I’ll have to hire a guide who can protect me.”

  “Do you have any idea what’s involved in your plan?” Bryce asked.

  “No, but you can explain it to my guide.”

  “And who will that be?”

  “I obviously haven’t had time to find one,” she snapped.

  “Sarah’s father can protect Miss Abby,” Pamela said. “Sarah says he’s the second bravest man at Fort Lookout.”

  “I don’t want the second bravest,” Abby said to Pamela. “Who’s the bravest?”

  “Daddy,” Pamela said, giving Abby a look that said she was seriously offended Abby had to ask.

  “I meant other than your father,” Abby said, trying to reinstate herself in Pamela’s good graces. “He’s the commander of the fort. I can’t ask him to go with me.”

  “Why not?” Pamela asked. “Don’t you like Daddy?”

  “That’s not why I couldn’t ask him,” Abby said, feeling slightly embarrassed at the question. She didn’t dare look at Moriah or Bryce. “The commander has to stay at the fort in ca
se there’s trouble.”

  “Daddy took you to Boulder Gap,” Pamela pointed out.

  “That was for only one day,” Abby said.

  “Daddy can tell Sarah’s daddy what to do.”

  “Thank you for your suggestions, Pamela,” Bryce said, lips quivering with a smile he appeared determined to suppress, “but I think it would be better if you let me run the fort.”

  “I was just trying to help,” Pamela said, obviously affronted. “Miss Abby likes you better than Sarah’s daddy.”

  “Why do you say that?” Bryce asked his daughter.

  “She cooks breakfast and supper for you every day.”

  “So does Miss Moriah,” Bryce said. “Do you think she likes me, too?”

  “Yes,” Pamela said with a brilliant smile. “They both want to marry you.”

  Moriah looked stunned by Pamela’s innocent interpretation of their actions. Bryce looked as if he’d stepped in a cow patty and was horrified at the consequences. Abby was so tickled by their reactions she nearly lost control. “We couldn’t very well cook our dinner here and not offer him something,” she said, addressing Pamela. “We don’t have any money to pay your father for letting us use his extra room, so we’re cooking to pay him rent.”

  “You don’t want to marry him?” Pamela asked, disappointed.

  “No.”

  “Do you want to marry him?” she asked Moriah.

  “Definitely not,” Moriah said, apparently still stupefied by the thought of marriage to a man as big and vital as Bryce.

  “Sarah’s momma says I can’t have a baby brother until some lady marries Daddy. She lets me play with Sarah’s baby brother, but I want one of my own.”

  Abby felt sorry for Pamela. She’d always wanted brothers, too, but she and Moriah had had each other. It must be very hard for Pamela to be an only child. “I’m sure your father will find some nice lady to marry who will give you a baby brother,” Abby said.

  “Daddy says we have to go back to Philadelphia for him to get married,” Pamela said.

  “There are lots of nice ladies in Philadelphia,” Abby said. “There aren’t many here.”

  “There’s you and Miss Moriah.”

  “You father is not in love with us or we with him.”

  “Does the lady have to love Daddy before she can marry him?”

  “That’s a question you should ask your father,” Abby said. After that kiss in the cottonwood grove, she wasn’t sure what Bryce’s requirements were in a wife. If he felt it was all right to bestow his kisses freely now, would he stop once he got married? Many men didn’t. They believed a different set of rules applied to men and women, even after marriage.

  “I hope any woman who wanted to marry me would love me very much,” Bryce told his daughter.

  “But how would you know she loved you?”

  Abby was anxious to hear how he was going to explain love between a man and woman to a seven-year-old girl. She wondered if he really thought love was important in a marriage. He had told her he would want a wife with beauty, sophistication, and social skills to help him in his career.

  “She would tell me,” Bryce said.

  “But how would you know if it was true?” Pamela asked.

  “Maybe I’d ask your grandmother.”

  That wasn’t an answer Abby would like to hear from any man she wanted to marry, but maybe it was an answer that would satisfy Pamela.

  “Grandmama says she loves me, but it doesn’t feel like it,” Pamela said. “It feels better when Miss Abby says it.”

  It was clear Pamela’s answer ha d unsettled Bryce. She hoped he didn’t think she was trying to work her way into his daughter’s affections to take advantage of him. “That’s because I let you help in the kitchen and lick the spoon when I’m making a cake,” Abby said to Pamela. “I expect your grandmother is more strict.”

  “Grandmama doesn’t cook,” Pamela said. “She says a real lady never sets foot in the kitchen.”

  Abby was sinking deeper and deeper into a morass not of her making. Everything she said seemed to end up being in some way a criticism of Bryce or his family. At this rate, he’d probably throw them out to sleep on the parade ground tonight. “Not everyone likes to cook,” Abby said. “Or has time. I’m sure your grandmother is extremely busy.”

  “Grandmama says a lady—”

  “It’s not really polite to our guests to go on talking about people they don’t know,” Bryce said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  It didn’t take Pamela more than a second to hit on an equally uncomfortable question. “Are you going to go to the ranches with Miss Abby?” she asked her father.

  “I don’t have to worry about that for a couple of weeks yet,” Abby said. “I’m much more interested in you telling me about the plans for the dance.”

  Abby gradually relaxed as Pamela excitedly told her everything she’d learned from Sarah’s mother. She had to visit the ranchers herself, but she needed time to develop her plan so Bryce wouldn’t feel he needed to go with her. She didn’t think she could be alone with him that long without courting disaster.

  And giving in to her attraction for Bryce would be a true disaster.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I appreciate your letting us stay with you,” Abby said to Bryce, “but Moriah and I are ready to move into the store.”

  “Who’s going to cook for us?” Pamela asked.

  “That’s a rude and selfish question,” Bryce said to his daughter. “Apologize to Miss Abby.”

  “I apologize,” Pamela said, “but please don’t make Zeb cook for us again. Daddy will have heartburn.”

  Despite his daughter’s embarrassing remarks, Bryce was aware that Abby’s announcement had unsettled him. He’d known from the first that her staying in his house was only temporary. Several times after she’d been particularly troublesome, he’d wondered what he might do to encourage her to move. But over the last few days he’d gradually come to accept her as part of his household.

  That in itself was enough reason to want her to leave. It was important that he not make the same mistake he’d made with Margaret: being in love. That had blinded him to faults and made him reluctant to face difficulties. Abby’s high jinks kept him on edge nearly every day. He’d been young and foolish when he thought he was in love with Margaret. It had proved to be nothing more than infatuation. He was certain his feelings for Abby were more of the same.

  “We survived before Miss Abby and her sister arrived,” Bryce said to Pamela. “We’ll survive after they leave.”

  “But I don’t want them to leave. I like them.”

  “They’re just moving to the trading post,” Bryce said. “They stayed here only until it was ready for them to move in.”

  “Don’t you like them?” Pamela asked.

  “Of course I like them, but the trading post is their home.”

  It appeared his daughter, too, had begun to take their presence for granted. The food did taste better, but it was the atmosphere at meals he enjoyed most. They were no longer a part of the day to suffer through because he needed to eat. He looked forward to the companionship and the lively conversation. Abby might not be sufficiently acquainted with the West to understand its ways, but meals were never boring when she was around. He wasn’t in Washington, D.C., now, and he didn’t need a sophisticated, well-connected, politically savvy hostess. Abby’s sense of community was much more suited to the fort than that of any Philadelphia society belle.

  “Sarah’s momma says it’s not suitable for a lady to live in that store,” Pamela said.

  “The store is very nice now,” Abby said. “Moriah and I are looking forward to having our own rooms.”

  “Sarah’s momma says it’s not safe. She says you never know who might be prowling around at night or what they might do.”

  “I have a rifle,” Abby said.

  “Sarah’s momma says it’s not suitable for a lady to know how to use a rifle.”

 
; “Thank you for keeping us informed of Sarah’s mother’s dictums,” Bryce said, “but she’s wrong about ladies knowing how to shoot. In Europe even royal ladies know how to shoot. It’s considered an admirable accomplishment.”

  He’d encouraged Pamela to spend time in Sarah’s home because he hoped Captain Rodney Mitchell’s society-born wife would teach Pamela how to behave when he moved back to Philadelphia, but he hadn’t expected her opinions to be leveled at him as criticisms.

  “Is Miss Abby going to Europe?” Pamela asked.

  “No,” Abby said, her lips twitching. “But if learning to shoot is all right for the crowned heads of Europe, I’m sure it’s all right for me.”

  “What’s a crowned head?” Pamela asked. “Does it hurt?”

  “Only when they lose it,” Bryce said, almost at the end of his patience. “And don’t ask any more questions,” he said, when Pamela opened her mouth again. “You’ve known from the beginning that Miss Abby and Miss Moriah would move into the store. We talked about what they’ve done to their rooms every evening.”

  “I didn’t mink they’d really leave,” Pamela said, pouting. “I thought they liked it here.”

  “We do,” Abby said, “but this is not our home. We’ve only been visiting.”

  “Sarah’s momma says unmarried ladies need a chaperone,” Pamela said to her father. “Can I go live with Miss Abby and be her chaperone?”

  “You’re too young to be a chaperone.”

  Bryce was amused that Pamela thought she could chaperone a grown woman. On the other hand, he’d always thought he and his daughter were inseparable. It shocked him that Abby had become so important to Pamela that she would leave her father to protect her. He hadn’t realized she needed a mother figure so badly.

  He liked Abby and didn’t want her to leave, either. Rather than disturb his life, she’d made it flow more smoothly. His life at home, that is. Outside of his house, her presence was something else entirely. Yet that didn’t change the fact that he’d miss her. Abby had a presence that was impossible to ignore. Things were different when she was around. They were better, though he couldn’t always say why.