Renegade's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

  "You'd better go now," the doctor told him quietly. "Come back tomorrow whenever you'd like."

  "Thank you."

  The doctor moved away to give him a moment of privacy, and Brand took the opportunity to press one gentle kiss to her cheek. Sheri did not stir as Brand gazed down at her for a long moment, then turned and walked away, out of her life.

  Brand returned to his quarters to find O'Toole waiting for him.

  "How was she?"

  "The doctor says she'll be fine. She fell asleep right away, so I didn't stay long." As he was speaking, he took out his saddlebags and was packing things in them.

  "What are you doing, boy?" O'Toole demanded, wondering at his actions.

  "I'm leaving."

  "You're what?"

  "I'm leaving, O'Toole. I don't know when I'll be back."

  He frowned. "What about that little girl lying in there who loves you?"

  Brand stopped in mid-motion and turned to look at his best friend. "She's the reason I'm going. She could have been killed today . . ."

  "But she wasn't."

  "She could have been, O'Toole, don't you see? It could have been just like Becky . . ." He stopped, the words catching in his throat.

  "So you love her."

  "It's better this way. If she goes back to New York, I'll know she's safe." He turned away to finish packing.

  "What do I tell her if she asks for you?"

  "Tell her I said good-bye . . . and that I want her to be safe and to be happy."

  He said no more, but picked up his saddlebags and rifle and left the room.

  O'Toole stared after him, understanding Brand's heartbreak yet wishing there was some way he could fix things for him. He knew there wasn't.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Brand, the Half-Breed Scout, or Trail of the Renegade

  The Parting

  Rachel stared at the doctor. "Well? Do you know where he is? Or do I have to go find him myself?"

  "He came to see you that day, when your fiancé . . ."

  "My ex-fiancé," she corrected.

  "Yeser, when your ex-fiancé arrived. When Brand saw that he was here, he left."

  "And he hasn't been back since?"

  "No. I haven't seen him around the fort either."

  "I need my clothes."

  "But you're not fully recovered yet," he protested.

  "I don't care. I have to find Brand. I have to talk to him."

  Over the doctor's objections, she left the hospital and sought out Captain Stewart in his office. If anyone could help her find Brand, he could.

  "You need to find him? Why?"

  "It's personal, sir. But I will be forever indebted to you if you would help me."

  "Wait right here."

  A short time later, he was back. "He's left the fort. The chief of scouts said that he wasn't sure when he'd be back."

  Rachel was devastated, but refused to give up. She loved Brand and she was going to tell him so the next time she saw him.

  The days passed slowly for Rachel. Mercy helped her find a place to stay at the fort, and she kept her company as Rachel waited for the return of the only man she would ever love.

  Maureen and Charles made the trip to the fort early the next morning. They were relieved to know that the posse was back so they could tell the sheriff what Charles had learned in his investigation. When they reached McDowell, Philip met them.

  "I'm glad you're here," Philip told Maureen.

  She looked up at him, sensing that there was something very different about him. A new strength of character . . . an awareness of others . . . something she couldn't quite put her finger on. At the same time, his serious tone alarmed her.

  Charles spoke first. "We got Sheri's message late yesterday that you were back, so we came as soon as we could. I have information"

  "Later." Philip cut him off, looking at Maureen, his expression at once sympathetic and pained. "Maureen, Sheri's at the hospital."

  "She's what? Yesterday she was. . . ." She knew a moment of panic and grabbed Philip's arm.

  "She was injured, but she's going to be fine." He covered her hand in a gesture of sympathy.

  "Oh, God! I have to see her!" Tears flooded her eyes. "How did this happen?"

  "Come on." He drew her along. "I'll tell you both everything while I walk you over there."

  Maureen looked frantically at Charles, and he was instantly by her side.

  Philip glanced at Charles. "I don't know what information you found out about Hale's murderer, but last night we discovered who the real killer was."

  "Colonel Hancock?" Charles asked.

  Philip nodded. "What did you learn?"

  Charles told him what the maid had described.

  The officer's smile was grim. "So even if last night hadn't happened, we would have had him today. Good work."

  "What did happen last night?" Maureen interrupted, desperate to know.

  "Brand was being kept in the guardhouse, and Hancock went out there under the pretense of freeing him. The colonel really wanted him to walk out of the cell so he could shoot him and claim that he'd caught him escaping. Sheri showed up in the middle of it. I was lucky enough to be going there myself to check on Brand, and I walked in on the whole scene right after Sheri did. Brand and I managed to stop Hancock, and we thought it was all over, but he went for his gun. He wanted Brand dead." Philip tensed as he remembered that horrible moment. "Sheri was with Brand. Hancock's shot missed him and hit her."

  Maureen actually felt faint. Charles saw her sudden unsteadiness and quickly slipped an arm about her waist to help support her.

  "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned.

  She was ashen, but the look in her eyes was fierce. "Where's Hancock now?"

  "He's dead. I shot him."

  Maureen looked up at Philip with new respect and admiration. "Thank you."

  "He must have been crazy to think he could get away with all this," Charles remarked.

  "He was insane. He hated Brand so much that he risked everything just to see him dead."

  "Brand . . . Where is he? How is he? Was he hurt?"

  "He wasn't hurt. I haven't seen him since last night, but I'm sure he's around somewhere."

  They reached the hospital, and Maureen hurried ahead of them. Dr. Aldridge saw her coming and showed her where Sheri was.

  Sheri was sitting up in the hospital bed, sedately clad in a gown and wrapper that Cecelia had given the doctor for her. She was nursing a vicious headache. Dr. Aldridge had warned her that she might have one for a few days, and he'd been right.

  At the sound of frantic voices, she looked up to find Maureen rushing into the room. Charles and Philip remained respectfully behind with the doctor.

  "Sheri! Are you all right? Philip met us and told us what happened!" Maureen ran to Sheri's bedside. The bandage on her forehead was testimony to how close she'd come to death. Maureen quickly hugged her. "You could have been killed!"

  They hugged for a long moment, then broke apart. Maureen settled in the chair next to the bed, her expression still shaken.

  "How do you feel?"

  "I've got a terrible headache, but Dr. Aldridge had warned me about that. Otherwise, I'm fine."

  "I can't believe everything that's happened to you since we came out here."

  "It has been an adventure, hasn't it?" Sheri tried to laugh, but it hurt too much.

  "How's Brand?"

  "He was with me last night, but I haven't seen him yet this morning. Would you help me fix my hair so I look nice when he comes in?"

  "Of course. You might feel better, too, if we get you freshened up a bit."

  "I just want him to know that I'm going to be fine. It must have been horrible for him. . . . I was hugging him when Hancock shot at us."

  "Dear lord . . ." Maureen could well imagine Brand's horror in that moment. "Poor Brand. . . ."

  "I know. I can't wait to see him today. I miss him already." She looked up at Maureen. "I love hi
m so much. . . . When I thought Hancock was going to shoot him yesterday . . ." She shivered as she remembered the confrontation.

  "I understand. But all that ugliness is over now. The real killer is dead, and you're in love."

  Sheri managed a grin. "We have done some good research, haven't we?"

  "Yes, we have." Maureen brushed out Sheri's hair gently so it fell about her shoulders in a tumble of soft curls. "There now, you look beautiful."

  "All I need is for Brand to show up."

  "Well, Charles and Philip are out with the doctor. Would you like to see them?"

  "Yes please. Philip saved our lives last night. I just may make him a hero in a book yet. He's certainly earned it."

  "I'll go get them. I know they'd like to see you."

  A short time later, she returned with the two.

  "Sheri, I am so glad that you're going to be all right," Philip told her.

  "If it hadn't been for you, Brand and I might both be dead today, Philip. Thank you. You were wonderful."

  He actually blushed at her compliment. "I'm just glad I was there."

  "How are you doing?" Charles asked, seeing the bandage and realizing just how close she'd come to dying.

  "I've got a terrible headache, but I'll live, and that's the most important thing."

  "Charles did some investigating in town. We were coming out here this morning to tell the sheriff what he'd learned so we could free Brand. I think I would have liked seeing him get out of jail that way, rather than the way it happened," Maureen said.

  "So would I." Sheri said. "But it's all over now. Brand's out of jail and the real killer is dead. Sometimes life really can be like one of my books." It was a happy thought.

  They all laughed.

  "Did the doctor say how soon you could leave the hospital?" Maureen asked.

  "Not yet, but I don't want to plan anything until I talk to Brand again. He should be coming by soon, I hope.''

  "I can go see if I ran find him for you, if you'd like?" Philip offered.

  "Thanks."

  "I'll go with you," Charles volunteered, and the two men went in search of Brand.

  It was only a short time after they'd gone to find him that Sergeant O'Toole came to see her. He greeted both Sheri and Maureen warmly, but seemed a bit nervous about being there.

  "Hello, sergeant. It's good to see you," Sheri said, beaming at him. "How's your arm doing?"

  "It was just a flesh wound," he responded. "The doc says I have to keep in it this sling for a while, but it feels better already."

  "Good."

  "But what about you? You're all right?"

  "Yes. I'm going to be fine."

  "Do you feel up to talking for a moment?"

  "Of course. Pull up another chair."

  "No, ma'am. I won't be staying that long."

  He was suddenly so serious that Sheri sensed something was wrong. She glanced at Maureen, who looked apprehensive, too.

  "What is it, Sergeant?"

  "It's Brand. He asked me to give you a message from him."

  "Well, why didn't he just come here and give me the message himself?" Sheri asked with a smile. She was anxiously anticipating his visit and could hardly wait to see him.

  "That's just it . . ." He paused, wondering how to phrase what he had to say, and knowing there was no easy way to break her heart. "You see, Brand's gone. He left last night."

  "He's gone?" Sheri repeated, staring at him in disbelief.

  "Yes, ma'am. He left some time after midnight. But before he rode out, he asked me to come see you this morning and give you a message from him."

  She looked up at him expectantly. "What was it?"

  "Brand said to tell you that he wants you to go back to New York and be safe . . . and happy."

  Sheri felt as if her world came to an end in that moment. She had been filled with a great sense of warmth and love since falling asleep with Brand by her side the night before. She'd been waiting joyously for him to return to her. She'd wanted to see his smile, to kiss him . . . to touch him . . . "I don't understand. Doesn't he want me to wait for him to return?"

  "He didn't know if he was going to return."

  "So you don't know when he's coming back?"

  O'Toole met her gaze. He saw the confusion in her eyes. "He didn't say. I'm sorry."

  Sheri looked away as she struggled not to cry in front of him. "Thank you, sergeant, for delivering his message." When Sheri looked up at him again, all that was revealed in her eyes was loneliness and despair.

  He saw the sadness in her and silently cursed Brand for the pain he'd caused her. "I'll be going now."

  As he left the room, he didn't look back.

  "Sheri, I'm so sorry. . . ." Maureen said softly.

  She went to her cousin and sat on the edge of the bed next to her, then took her in her arms and held her while she cried. It was a wrenching cry from the depths of her soul. After a while, Sheri became strangely silent.

  "Are you going to be all right?' Maureen asked gently, knowing how devastated she was.

  "I'll be fine," she answered flatly. "Or at least, I will be once this headache goes away."

  "Do you want to stay here and rest up?"

  "No!" Sheri's answer was quick and sharp. "If the doctor thinks I can travel, then I want to go back into town and stay there until we can leave for home."

  "You're done with your research? You're ready to go back to New York?" Maureen was asking as much for herself as she was for Sheri.

  "Yes. I want to go home."

  "I'll talk to the doctor and find out how soon you can travel." Maureen stood up to go find him.

  "Maureen . . . ?"

  She turned back to see that Sheri was looking up at her, trying to smile. "What? Do you need something?"

  "No . . . I just wanted you to know that I'm glad you came with me. I don't know what I would have done without you."

  Maureen gave her an impulsive hug. "I'm glad I was here with you."

  A short time later, Dr. Aldridge completed another examination of Sheri and pronounced that she could leave for town the following day.

  Sheri could hardly wait to depart. She was miserable there, even though as the day progressed, she had a steady stream of visitors. The ladies from the fort dropped by with food and conversation, but Sheri barely heard what they were saying. All she could think about was Brand. Everywhere she looked she was reminded of him. If she was going to keep her sanity, she had to get away from the fort. She had to go home. Go home and be safe . . . and happy . . .

  Maureen left her alone to rest after the other women had gone. She went outside to find Charles waiting for her.

  When Charles and Philip had returned to tell Sheri that they'd learned Brand had left the fort, they'd discovered that Sergeant O'Toole had already been there. They'd made a strategic exit, and Charles had been waiting for Maureen ever since.

  "How is she doing?"

  "It may take a little while, but she'll be all right," she told him as they walked out across the parade ground.

  "I'm sorry things have turned out this way for her."

  "So am I. I've been close to Sheri my whole life, and she's never cared for any man the way she cares for Brand. She really loves him."

  "What does she want to do?"

  "Dr. Aldridge said she would be able to travel tomorrow, so she wants to go back into town. We'll see how she feels after that, and then we'll know how soon we can start our trip home."

  Hearing her say that they would be leaving for New York jarred Charles. He'd known it was coming. He'd known that Maureen would have to return home one day. He just hadn't wanted it to be this soon.

  The thought of never seeing her again forced him to action. There wasn't much time left. If he was going to tell her the way he felt, he had to do it now.

  He directed their walk toward a shady spot away from other people. He wanted a moment alone with her. What he had to say was important.

  "Maureen . . ." he be
gan. "Maureen, I . . ."

  She looked at him strangely. "You sound so serious all of a sudden."

  "I know. That's because I am." He paused, then began again. "Maureen, I know you're eager to get back home. I know how much you miss New York. . . ."

  "It will be nice to see civilization again." She sighed.

  Charles tensed. She wasn't making this easy for him, but he could not let this moment pass. "Maureen . . ."

  She looked at him and frowned, wondering what was bothering him.

  "Do you think you could ever be happy here?" He knew he was doing a miserable job of this. He was good at writing things, not talking about his feelings. But he had to make her understand. He had to tell her now that he loved her and wanted to marry her, or risk losing her. He feared, though, that no matter how much he cared for her, she wouldn't be able to stand living in the Territory.

  She gazed up at him, seeing his fierce, determined expression. "What are you asking me, Charles?"

  "Maureen . . ." He hated being so nervous. He was a man who did things logically and methodically. He didn't like this uncertainty. He cleared his throat to try again. "Maureen, I wish you didn't have to go back." When Charles realized how totally inane he'd sounded, he could have groaned out loud.

  "That's sweet of you to say, but I have to go with Sheri. She's really going to need me now . . . after Brand." For a moment there, Maureen had thought Charles was going to sweep her off her feet with a proposal. She sighed to herself in disappointment.

  Charles was not about to let his own romantic ineptitude stop him. He wanted this woman, and he meant to have her. He girded himself. He was going to be sophisticated and say all the right things. He was going to impress her with his way with words. After all, that was how he made his living. He would woo her gently and then propose and then . . . "I love you, Maureen."

  The disappointment that had haunted her vanished instantly at his declaration. "You do?" she asked, startled, delighted, ecstatic.

  "Yes."

  They were very aware that they were standing right where everyone could see them, yet Maureen didn't care. Without a thought to propriety, she launched herself into his arms.

  "I love you, too!" she cried.

  Now it was Charles's turn to be shocked.