The Independent Bride

by Leigh Greenwood

  Bryce chuckled. “Nothing if that girl is Abby Pierce. Let’s check on Hinson.”

  But Hinson had vanished. A shattered rifle left on the ground showed what Abby had hit.

  “Do you think they’ll come back?” Abby asked.

  “I don’t know. Right now all I care about is that you’re safe.”

  “We need to make sure the others aren’t hurt.”

  All three men were unharmed.

  “Let’s have some breakfast and get these cows on the move,” Bryce said. “The sooner we reach the reservation, the sooner I can have my woman to myself.”

  They finished breakfast and were on the move at dawn. Thirty minutes later they saw Lieutenant Collier and a detachment of soldiers coming toward them. Bryce and Abby rode forward to meet them.

  “I caught these men running away about an hour ago,” Collier said, grinning at Bryce. “You wouldn’t happen to know what set them off, would you?”

  Abby saw several men she didn’t know, but her gaze settled on two she did. Luther Hinson sat astride his horse glaring at her, his left hand wrapped in a bandage covered with blood.

  “Seems someone shot him through the hand,” Collier said.

  “Abby did when he tried to shoot me in the back.”

  Ray Baucom’s arm was in a sling. “Who got this one?” Collier asked.

  “Abby again,” Bryce said. “I heard a yell after one of her shots.”

  “Ma’am, I sure am glad I’m on your side,” Collier said, considerably impressed by her marksmanship.

  “It was pure luck,” Abby said.

  “I considered turning them over to the local sheriff,” Collier said, “but attacking the commander of a United States fort makes this a military matter. Seems the commander wasn’t wearing his uniform, so the scallywags wouldn’t know they were putting their necks in the army’s noose.”

  Collier was grinning. If Abby hadn’t been so in love with Bryce, she’d have given him a hug and a kiss on the spot.

  “In that case I suggest you lock them up until the commander can put his uniform back on and decide what to do with them,” Bryce said.

  “You got nothing on me,” Hinson said.

  “Nothing but rustling, attempted murder, arson, and cheating the Indians of nearly everything the government has given them.”

  “You can’t prove anything.”

  “I can swear you were going to shoot Bryce in the back,” Abby said.

  “Being caught with rustlers pretty much makes you one of them,” Bryce said. “Then there’s the matter of the fire at the trading post. My daughter saw you throw a match through the window. That fire could have killed both Abby and her sister.”

  “No court is going to believe a kid,” Hinson said.

  “How about Abner Pierce’s death? We have a witness who says it wasn’t an accident, that the two of you killed him.”

  “You can’t have a witness,” Hinson said, “because we didn’t do it.”

  “He saw you stop the wagon,” Bryce said. “While Baucom talked to Abner, you came up behind him, hit him over the head so hard you killed him, then tried to make it look like an accident. You didn’t contact me because you knew I’d realize Abner would never lose control of a wagon. You’ll both hang.”

  “Hinson didn’t mean to kill him,” Baucom said. “We were just going to make him hand over the contract.”

  “Shut up, you fool,” Hinson said.

  “Hinson said it was better that he was dead, that he’d never have given up the contract.”

  Hinson tried to attack Baucom, but the soldiers wrestled him to the ground.

  “I’m not going to be hanged for something you did,” Baucom yelled at Hinson.

  “Lock them up,” Bryce said.

  “Where did you find a witness?” Abby asked.

  “I didn’t. I was bluffing.”

  “But how did you know what happened?”

  “I guessed Hinson was the brains behind the scheme to steal the beef and murder your father. Baucom was just greedy. He pretended not to want the beef contract to deflect suspicion from himself, but I suspected he’d draw the line at murder.” He turned to Lieutenant Collier. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  “Where are you going to be?”

  Bryce winked at Abby. “Working under cover.”

  Bryce had insisted Abby and Moriah have supper with him their first night back at the fort. He said she was too tired to worry about cooking and Moriah deserved a break after having the store all to herself for so long. Much to Abby’s surprise, Moriah made no objection. Abby felt bad that Zeb had worked so hard to make sure everything was just right because she had been too nervous to eat more than a few bites. She’d spent the evening wondering what Bryce was going to say.

  She knew the time had come when Zeb put brandy and coffee on the table and left. Pamela had been bouncing in her seat all evening as if she had a secret it was nearly impossible to keep to herself. Bryce had kept up a steady flow of conversation, smiling, even joking, but there was an underlying solemnity to his tone that made Abby uneasy. Despite the show he was putting on, he was on edge.

  “I expect this is going to be the most important evening of my life,” Bryce said after Pamela had very carefully poured coffee for Abby and Moriah. “I’m not at all sure tilings are going the way I want” He picked up an envelope and passed it to Abby. “There’s a telegram inside. It was waiting for me when I got back today.”

  “Why are you giving it to me?’ Abby asked.

  “Because it’s about you.”

  Abby knew without asking that it was from the police in St. Louis. Who else would go to the expense of sending a telegraph message about her? And the only reason she could imagine for sending such a message was that they’d finally found some evidence they could use against her. Her heart felt like lead in her chest. Why had she ever thought she loved Albert? Why hadn’t she turned him in the moment she found out what he’d done instead of giving him two weeks to return the money?

  “Go ahead and open it,” Bryce said. “You must know what it says.”

  “Have you read it?” she asked.

  “Yes. It was addressed to me.”

  “You might as well tell me what it says.”

  “You don’t want to read it for yourself?”

  “I expect I’ll have plenty of time for that.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  Abby nodded.

  “It’s from the chief of police. It says Albert Guy has admitted he lied when he implicated you. He says you had no part in the embezzlement, and that once you found out what he’d done, you gave him two weeks to return the money before you reported him. In a nutshell, you are completely cleared of all suspicion. The chief promised to send a newspaper clipping of the story.”

  “I knew it all the time,” Pamela crowed. “I knew you’d never do anything wrong.”

  Abby looked up at Bryce, hardly able to believe her ears.

  “I knew it, too,” he said. “Some people simply can’t do anything wrong. They don’t know how.”

  Abby knew she was smiling even though her eyes were filling with tears of relief and happiness. “You said I did the wrong things all the time.”

  “I only said that when you didn’t follow my advice. But so far you’ve managed to bring off everything you’ve attempted.”

  “I couldn’t have without your help.”

  “I’d like to believe that, but I’m not so sure.” His smile remained, but it seemed fixed and stiff. “I have a second envelope here,” he said as he passed it to Abby, “but you don’t have to open it. You either send it to Washington or you tear it up.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s my acceptance of the promotion.”

  “Why give it to me?”

  “Because what you do with it will determine what I do. You see, Pamela and I had a discussion this afternoon. Well, it was hardly a discussion. We were in agreement before we even started. We took a vot
e and it was unanimous.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We voted to invite you to become a member of our family. I want you to be my wife.”

  “And I want you to be my momma,” Pamela said.

  “Bryce, I’ve already told you—”

  “I asked Moriah her opinion of what you said. And she said—”

  “I said you were lying to yourself,” Moriah said. “You’ve been in love with the colonel for weeks. It’s stupid to keep denying it.”

  “I don’t deny it,” Abby said, feeling cornered. “What I said was I wasn’t the best wife for Bryce. I’d come between him and his family, and I’d probably blight his career.”

  “Pamela and I took another vote,” Bryce said. “You want to tell her what we decided, Pamela?”

  “We don’t have to go to Philadelphia if you don’t want to. We can stay right here. Daddy can keep on telling people what to do, and I can learn to ride and shoot a rifle like you.”

  “You can’t do that,” Abby protested. “I couldn’t stand it if I knew I was in the way of your career.”

  “We took another vote. It was also unanimous. Actually, we took a lot of votes and they were all unanimous. We’re not going anywhere without you. If you stay, we’ll stay. If you leave, we’ll follow you. We can’t be happy unless you’re with us.”

  “Sarah’s momma says my new momma would have to love me. Do you still love me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “I want to marry you,” Bryce said. “Not just for Pamela. For myself. I’ll do anything I can to convince you to say yes.”

  “For God’s sake, Abby, put the man out of his misery,” Moriah said. ‘Tell him you want to marry him.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Abby snapped. “Of course I want to marry him, but I don’t want to ruin his life.”

  “Then tell him you’ll be happy to go wherever he goes and support him in any career he chooses. You can, you know. You don’t have to worry about St. Louis anymore.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me to fall in love with him.”

  “I didn’t, but it was obvious you were crazy about him. Besides, as men go, he seems fairly decent”

  From Moriah that was high praise.

  Abby’s heart beat so rapidly she felt breathless. It looked as if she could have everything she’d dreamed of. All she had to do was say yes. She looked from Bryce to Pamela and back to Bryce. Poor dear, he looked almost white with tension. She could understand why Pamela was so anxious for her to marry her father, but it was hard to believe a man as strong and self-sufficient as Bryce could possibly look as though he would fall all to pieces if she refused him.

  She looked at the envelope in her hand. He had placed his future in her hands. She could tear it up, and they would stay here. She would be sure of her place at the fort and secure in the knowledge that she could handle the job of wife of a fort commander. After the last three months, she felt she had conquered the hardest part. She had the strength to become a woman of the West. She could learn to feel at home here.

  Or she could send the envelope off, and pack her bags for Philadelphia. She would have to face his family, prove she was more worthy to be his wife than some socialite picked for her pedigree and family connections. She would also have to face the world of Washington politics. She didn’t know anyone in government, had no idea what happened or what role she could play. Going back East would be a difficult task, probably one she would never fully master.

  But she knew whatever she did, or chose not to do, Bryce would continue to love her. That was all that mattered. She handed the envelope back to him.

  “I’ll go wherever you go,” she said.

  “We’re going to stay here!” Pamela squealed with happiness, jumped down from her chair, and threw herself into Abby’s arms. But even as she hugged the little girl to her bosom, Abby’s eyes were on Bryce. His reaction was far more restrained than his daughter’s, but for Abby it was what counted most. She could tell how worried he’d been that she would refuse him, how relieved he was she hadn’t, how happy she’d made him.

  She knew because she saw tears cause his eyes to glisten with happiness. She’d never tell him what she’d seen, but she’d carry the memory in her heart always.

  Author’s Note

  No man was ever more caught in the middle than the Indian agent. Appointed by the federal government to live among the Indians, he dispensed annuities that often did not arrive on time. Singlehandedly, he was supposed to restrain the legions of traders who cheated the Indians and illegally sold them whiskey. He was expected to teach the Indian how to farm in areas that were often too arid for agriculture—and where, in any case, the government often supplied the wrong kinds of farm implements. It was also the agent’s job to keep white settlers off Indian land. But in this capacity, too, he was practically powerless, since the government steadily undermined his role by giving in to the demands of land-hungry pioneers. For all this he was paid less man a village postmaster. Not surprisingly, most agents were ineffective or plain dishonest, and the few who were committed to the job ultimately failed.

  For every good agent, there were many more corrupt ones. Samuel Colley, a Cheyenne agent, had his son join him on the reservation. The young man arrived with about 30 cows to his name, and presumably following the example of his father, amassed a small fortune of $25,000 within two years by selling goods that rightfully belonged to the Indians. At another reservation a new agent arrived in 1869 to take up his post and found that his predecessor had not been seen for a month. There was no money, and there were $14,000 worth of unpaid bills. None of the annuities promised to the Indians in return for their land had been distributed to them in four years.

  Willian Barnhart, the agent at the Umatilla Reservation, had to be replaced for killing an Indian. His successor, Timothy Davenport, was surprised to find a salaried school-teacher but no school. This enterprising fellow had been acting as a private secretary to Barnhart; he openly admitted to Davenport “the place of agent at Umatilla is worth $4,000 a year.” An agent’s salary was $1,500.

  The above excerpt was taken from THE OLD WEST: The Indians (Time-Life Books, 1973, p. 169).

  About the Author

  Leigh Greenwood is the award-winning author of over fifty books, many of which have appeared on the USA Today bestseller list. Leigh lives in Charlotte, North Carolina. Please visit his website at http://www.leigh-greenwood.com/.