Gerrity'S Bride

by Carolyn Davidson

  “Who on earth—” She risked a second glance at him, at his face, covered by the bandanna he wore, and her heart skipped a beat. A certainty that Tessie was in danger flooded her mind, and she hesitated, drawing up tighter on her reins. Fancy obeyed, skidding to a halt in a dusty cloud that surrounded them.

  He held his rifle at the ready, and Emmaline watched his approach with frustration filling her, her fear for Tessie holding her there. “If he knows Tessie’s out here...” Her whisper was almost a prayer. And again she breathed words beneath her breath. “Oh, God! Keep her safe! Don’t let anything happen to my sister.”

  “You’re a smart lady,” the rider said mockingly, riding his horse near her. “I thought a little rifle fire would get your attention.”

  “Who are you? What do you want?” she blurted out, her eyes intent on him, hoping against hope that he would not look toward the small horse that was cropping grass just a few hundred yards to the north.

  “Well, I reckon you’ll find out all that, lady,” he said with a mirthless chuckle. “You just ride over some closer to me, and I’ll wrap a little rope around your hands, and we’ll take a ride. I’ll lead you along as sweet as you please.”

  She glared at him, barely able to endure the look gleaming from his gaze. Just the thought of his hands on her filled Emmaline with disgust, and she shuddered visibly. “Are you the same one who grabbed me off the porch?”

  Even with the bandanna covering his nose and mouth, she could tell he was smiling, his eyes narrowing as they roamed over her. “Recognized me, huh?” He motioned to her to come closer, a rope held in his hand. “If you’re thinkin’ I don’t know your little sister is over yonder, yer dead wrong,” he told her with raw menace in every word.

  Her heart thumped mercilessly in her chest as she digested his threat. Getting him away from Tessie was her prime concern, and there was no guarantee that allowing herself to be trussed up would turn him away from the child. Turning in her saddle, she glared at him again, and then, feigning surprise, looked over his shoulder.

  “Who’s that coming?” she cried.

  “Where?” He stretched his neck, then turned a bit as he searched the horizon to the south.

  It was exactly what she had hoped he’d do, and she dug her heels into the sides of her mare with desperation. Loosing the reins and leaning forward against Fancy’s neck, she sent the Thoroughbred galloping. The animal stretched out above the ground at a pace that left her pursuer behind.

  Heading northwest, away from the stream, away from the man who shouted and spurred his own mount into action, Emmaline rode her mare with desperation. The knowledge that she was heading away from the ranch was a deterrent, but staying clear of Tessie was more important.

  Ahead, the ground rose, and she urged Fancy on, sensing that over the ridge she would be out of sight of her pursuer for a few moments. Maybe...

  Her eyes widened with surprise as another horse and rider appeared before her, coming into view as if he had been awaiting her arrival. But it wasn’t a man, Emmaline realized with amazement. Seated atop a cow pony, holding a gun aimed in her direction, was a woman, riding astride and watching her with a smile.

  “Olivia.” Emmaline breathed the single word and slowed the pace of her horse, tugging at the reins. Fancy sidestepped, dancing impatiently as she tossed her head.

  “Stay right there,” the teacher said, aiming a revolver in Emmaline’s direction.

  “Olivia!” Again she breathed the word, but this time with dawning comprehension.

  “Stay where you are,” the man said, riding up behind her.

  With startling clarity, she looked about, realizing she didn’t have any options to speak of. There didn’t appear to be any way she could escape. Certainly there would be none if she was tied and led by the reins.

  I haven’t anything to lose, she thought despairingly. If they want me, they’ll have to catch me. There was no other direction to head in. She was boxed in on the south and northwest. Ahead lay mountains and the high country. Her chances were as good there as anywhere else.

  Fancy responded, almost as if she read the mind of her rider, and even before Emmaline gave her the signal, she had burst into a ground-eating run that surprised both of her enemies. Just long enough for her to be yards away, they sat in stunned silence.

  “That bitch!” the man spit out with evil intent.

  “Calling names won’t do any good. Shoot her!” Olivia told him. “Take aim and kill her now.”

  “I’ll catch her,” he said, even as his horse set off at a gallop.

  “Damn fool. I’ll do it myself, then.” She gritted the words out between her teeth, drawing her rifle to her shoulder. The barrel wavered as she took aim, closing one eye as she tried to sight in on Emmaline’s back. The Thoroughbred was blurred in the gunsight, racing with the speed of her sire and dam multiplied by the urging of her rider.

  Olivia grunted and squeezed the trigger, then opened both eyes to watch as the horse crumpled to the ground. Fancy lifted her head and made a terrible noise, almost as if she were screaming in distress, and then shuddered as she lay flat against the hard ground.

  “Fool woman!” the man shouted, jumping from his horse and running the few feet to where Emmaline was sprawled. “Probably killed the horse. It’s bleedin’ like a stuck pig!”

  He bent to turn Emmaline’s silent figure over, noting the lump that was already appearing on her forehead. Then, turning his attention to the horse that lay just a few feet away, he watched as the animal struggled to rise to her feet. Blood streamed from her left hindquarter, and he moved closer, shaking his head angrily as Fancy sank once more to the ground.

  “Never mind the horse. Just pick Emmaline up and let’s get going,” Olivia said from behind him.

  He pulled the kerchief from his face and turned to snarl at her with impotent rage. “I was hopin’ to take that horse with me when I go. I coulda sold her and made a few bucks in the bargain.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes in disgust. “You’re already making a few bucks from me,” she reminded him darkly. “Now see if the bride is still breathing, will you?”

  He shrugged dismissively. “She’s alive. I already checked.” Bending, he picked up her limp form and stepped to his horse. Holding her beneath his left arm, he lifted her, laying her inert body across the saddle. He stepped into the stirrup to settle himself there, picking her up to lay her across his thighs.

  “Let’s go,” he said roughly, heading north with his burden.

  “It would be easier to just leave her here. All you’d have to do is put a bullet in her head, and you could leave, just get out of the territory,” Olivia snapped.

  “I don’t shoot women,” he said angrily. “If she dies all by herself up there in that line shack, that’s one thing. Shootin’ her isn’t my way of doin’ things.”

  “I don’t want to be away from the house much longer,” Olivia told him.

  “Then go on back. Just remember to have my money out behind the barn after midnight,” he said. Tilting his hat forward over his eyes, he looked his fill, his eyes measuring and chill. “Don’t forget what else you owe me,” he reminded her, each syllable precise and filled with promise. Then, turning his back, he urged his horse forward.

  She glared, frustration rife upon her features. The sun was well on its way toward the horizon. It wouldn’t do for her to be missing at supper time.

  * * *

  “Where’s Emmaline?” Matt’s words were sharp and urgent.

  “She went after Theresa,” Maria said, her hands buried in the folds of her white apron as she stood on the porch. She’d been pacing the areas around the house for over an hour, and only the sight of Matt with two other riders had relieved her anguish.

  “Where’d Tessie go?” Matt asked angrily. “They were both supposed to stay in the house.”

  “I know! I know!” Maria cried. “But the little one left while I cleaned the beans for supper and Miss Emmaline was in her room. When
we knew she was gone, Miss Emmaline went after her. She thought Tessie probably went to the stream where you took them the other day.”

  “Did Tessie ride? Who saddled her horse for her?” His voice lowered to an alarming softness as he spoke, promising retribution to the culprit.

  “It was already saddled, boss,” said Claude, coming from the barn at a run. “She and her little friend were ridin’ in the corral before dinner, and she snuck back out here and took the mare before anyone knew it.”

  “Awww...” Matt spun his horse about and muttered words beneath his breath that made Maria’s eyes widen.

  “Will they be all right?” she asked pitifully, lifting her apron to cover her face, knowing that she would receive no answer.

  Matt wheeled away, his horse ready to lunge into a gallop, but then the sight of a lone rider approaching from beyond the corral brought him to a halt. Drawing rein abruptly, he bent to reassure his horse, quieting the animal’s prancing with soothing words.

  The sight of Olivia astride a horse was a surprise to Matt. He hadn’t even known she rode; in fact, he’d never separated her from the vision of a teacher. Now he watched her ride toward him, his eyes narrowed, his every sense alert to an unknown danger.

  “Where’ve you been?” The question was quiet, but the penetrating gaze sweeping horse and rider was chilling. She halted her mount near him, lifting her hand in a gesture of supplication.

  “I went looking for Theresa,” she explained, her cheeks flushed, her clothing dusty from her ride. “She said she was going to play at the stream, even after I told her not to.”

  He frowned at her impatiently. “Why didn’t you make sure she stayed home?”

  Olivia shook her head helplessly. “I did everything I could, Matt. She promised me she wouldn’t go out of her room, and I believed her. I thought she’d be all right.”

  He grunted, accepting her explanation, and relented, waving a hand in apology. “Go on to the house, Olivia. I take it you didn’t find Tessie?”

  “No...” She hesitated and bowed her head. “I wasn’t sure where the creek was, and I was afraid I’d get lost, so I came on back.”

  Matt grunted and shook his head. Fool woman. About as worthless as they came. His thoughts turned from the limp figure before him and focused on the source of his problem.

  Emmaline.

  “Let’s go, Hailey,” he said, heading due north and leaving the lone woman behind him to watch.

  It wasn’t a long ride, but he was impatient, leading the way with Hailey Baines and Tad close on his heels. Only a few miles past the home pasture, easily reached by a small child on a sturdy mare, he saw the line of trees. In the light of the setting sun, he spotted the mare, and his breath escaped in a deep sigh of relief.

  “There’s the horse.” He pointed her out to the men who rode with him. Hailey nodded and flashed him a look of understanding.

  “See her yet?” he asked, squinting as he slowed his horse to a trot.

  “Yeah, over there by the creek,” Matt answered, his heart thudding when he spied the small, silent figure.

  “She’s stirring, Matt,” Hailey said quickly. “I saw her hand move.... Look, she’s stretching.”

  A grin of relief spread over Matt’s face, curving his mouth even as his eyes closed for a moment. The hot rush of emotion threatened to unman him as he saw the form of his sister rise to stand as she watched the approaching men.

  “Matthew!” she cried plaintively, reaching her arms to him. “I had a bad dream, an’ I heard a gun shootin’ and everything.” She swallowed her sobs and wiped at her eyes. “I didn’t know it was gonna start gettin’ dark. I slept a long time, I think.”

  He was off his horse and beside her, scooping her up from the ground and holding her closely. “I swear, short stuff, one of these days I’m gonna give you the whippin’ of your young life!” he said gruffly, even as he hugged her and buried his face against her hair.

  “You always say that, Matthew.” She giggled. “You won’t whip me!”

  “Well, I might,” he said, holding her away from him to look over her rumpled clothes and bare feet. She seemed to be in one piece, he noted, lowering her to the ground and looking about.

  “Where’s your sister?” he asked, frowning once more as he saw no sight of her. “Where’s Emmaline?”

  Tessie shook her head. “I don’t know. She was supposed to follow me here, but she never came, and I fell asleep.”

  He scanned the horizon as she spoke, and his brows lifted at the story she told. “Who said she was going to follow you? Did Emmaline tell you that?”

  “No,” the child said, shaking her head. “Miss Olivia said I should come here, and she was gonna tell Emmie to come, too.”

  “Different story than we heard,” Hailey murmured beneath his breath. He turned his horse and trotted the animal back to where he’d spotted tracks earlier. Matt watched him go, and his stomach tightened with apprehension.

  “Tad...” Matt motioned the deputy closer. “Take Theresa home, will you? Put her up on her horse and get her in the house without seeing Miss Olivia, if you can manage it. I don’t want Olivia near her. Make sure Maria or Claude stays with her till I get back. This whole thing is gettin’ more involved all the time. I’m beginnin’ to have some gut feelings that Olivia’s... Well, it just isn’t makin’ sense.” He looked at Tessie quickly, not wanting to frighten her. “Enough said, I guess.”

  Waiting only long enough to see the nod the younger man gave him, he set off after the sheriff, who had begun heading north, his head bent, watching the ground before him as he rode.

  “What do you see, Hailey?” he asked as he rode up beside him. “Is that two horses or three?”

  “Looks like three along here. Then, over there—” he pointed to the west a ways “—there’s another set going back to the ranch.”

  “Do you ’spect these are Emmaline’s tracks?” Matt asked, bending to one side to inspect the fresh hoofprints, which were barely discernible in the dusk.

  “It’s not a shoe from the blacksmith shop in town, or from anywhere around here. See that depression there at the toe? I’d say these mighta been made by one of them new horses Miss Emmaline’s folks brought her.” He sent his mount into a trot with a light touch of his toe, and kept his eyes lowered. “These other tracks look like half a dozen others I’ve seen lately. Probably from this area, maybe even one of your horses.”

  Matt looked grim. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he admitted. “It’s almost too dark to track much farther, isn’t it, Sheriff?”

  Hailey Baines cast a look at the sky, the horizon and the encroaching darkness. “For a while, maybe. We’re due for a clear sky tonight, and the moon is pret’ near full, so we should be able to keep movin’. Can’t see far ahead, but up close we’ll make out all right.”

  “How long since they came this way?”

  Hailey shook his head. “I ain’t no damn Indian, Matt. You’re lucky I can track as well as most white men hereabouts. Maybe better than most,” he added with a modest grin.

  “I always said you were a patch of still water,” Matt told him, riding just to one side and behind the lawman. “I’d give a little bit to know where you came from and what you did there.”

  Hailey grunted and shook his head. “That’s an old story. One I don’t tell.”

  “Well, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have along on this trip,” Matt told him bluntly, then looked ahead to where the mountains rose in the distance.

  * * *

  Emmaline was cold, chilled to the bone, and her first instinct was to reach down for the quilt that lay at the foot of the bed. She shivered and huddled into a ball, aware in that instant that her hands were asleep, folded together at her waist. She attempted to wiggle her fingers and failed, sensing a tension about her wrists that confused her. She tried to brush the cobwebs from her mind.

  Her eyes flickered open and she shielded them from the glow of the fireplace, her lashes
drooping a bit to absorb the glare. Fireplace? There was no fireplace in the bedroom. In fact, it didn’t even feel like her comfortable bed.

  She turned her head and groaned, suddenly aware of the pain that radiated from her forehead and encompassed the rest of her crown and the back of her neck. I feel like I’ve been here before. The memory raced through her mind, confusion blurring her thoughts. No, that was when I was bucked off Brownie, she remembered suddenly, stirring against the rough blanket beneath her.

  “Awake, are you?” The man emerged from the corner of the room, clad in darkness, his clothing fading into the background, as though he had appeared from the depths of the night.

  She straightened her arms to fend him off, lest he touch her again, and her eyes fastened on the rope knotted about her wrists and cutting into the flesh. Her gaze swept the room, the rough log walls, the small table and stools drawn up beside it. The fireplace was stone, built against the far wall, and as small as the room was, she felt the warmth of it against her outstretched hands.

  Yet she was chilled, and again she shivered, her brow beaded with cold sweat. She lifted her head and was overwhelmed by waves of nausea, and frightened as her vision blurred once more. She squinted, and the man became two vague shadows before her.

  “What do you want with me?” she asked, her voice slurring and pathetically weak.

  “What I want and what’s gonna happen is probably two different things,” he answered enigmatically.

  She peered at him. “Do I know you?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I’ve been around, but mostly up here.”

  “Here?” She looked about her again. “Where are we?”

  “About ten minutes away from a dandy fire. Soon as I get my gear together, you’ll be on your own. Except for the trusting fool over there in the corner.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her gaze seeking the far side of the room. As though a pile of blankets had been cast aside, a motionless heap lay just beyond the firelight. “Who—” she began.