Renegade's Lady

by Bobbi Smith

"Really?" He took her by the arms and held her away from him to look down at her.

  Maureen was gazing up at him, her expression adoring. "Really."

  "Will you marry me?"

  "Yes. I would be honored to marry you, Charles Brennan."

  He found himself standing there looking down at her, a lopsided grin on his face. She'd just said yes!

  It hadn't been so difficult after all, he thought with manly pride. His sophisticated way with words had worked! He probably should have asked her ages ago.

  Emboldened by his success, he lifted one hand to tenderly touch her cheek. "Now? Tomorrow? This weekend?"

  Maureen started laughing. "Id love to marry you this very minute, but . . ." Her gaze drifted back toward the hospital. The happiness in her expression faltered at the thought of her cousin. "I have to help Sheri . . . Would you mind very much getting married in New York?"

  "Not at all. I still have some family back in Cleveland, and they could come. But, Maureen, afterward, will you be happy living here?" he asked, posing the question that had been troubling him for days now. He knew how she felt about the West. "I know it won't be easy for you, because you're used to living in the city. But I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make you happy, and though we'll probably never be rich, no one will ever love you more than I do."

  His declaration touched her heart, and tears shone in her eyes. "As long as we're together, Charles, I'll be happy wherever we live."

  Charles was elated. He had been prepared for her to ask him to return back East permanently. Her response thrilled him. He hadn't thought he could be any happier, but he was. Unable to stop, he drew her to him and kissed her.

  "I love you, Maureen, and I'll spend the rest of my life proving it."

  "Thank you for being so patient with me. These next few months are going to be difficult for Sheri. I don't think I'll tell her about us for a while. Not until she's had time to deal with her disappointment."

  "Do what you have to do to help her. We can set the wedding date later. As long as I know you're mine, nothing else matters. I'll wait forever for you, if I have to."

  "You won't," she said with an enticing smile guaranteed to set his heart to racing with the promise of love to come. "I'll be missing you too much to delay very long. As soon as everything settles down, I'll let you know. By this time next year, I predict we will be an old married couple."

  "I like the sound of that."

  Sheri and Maureen were packed and ready to return to town the next morning. As they made their way to where the stage was waiting, they stopped to thank everyone who'd come to see them off. The Whitmores were there, along with most of the ladies. Cecelia had come straight out and told Dora to stay home, that she didn't want to listen to her meanness today.

  "Thank you for everything, Cecelia," Sheri told her, giving her a hug. "You and Laura were wonderful."

  "It was our pleasure, believe me. I'm just glad everything turned out so well. Good luck with your writing."

  They thanked the captain, too, and then saw O'Toole standing back a little, watching them go.

  "I'll be right back," Sheri told Maureen. She sought him out, wanting to speak with him alone.

  "You have a safe trip," he said as she came to him.

  "We will. Maureen and I thank you for everything you've done. It was the adventure of a lifetime for me. I'll never forget any of it. . . ." She lifted her gaze to his. "Ever."

  O'Toole saw the pain in the depths of her regard, but knew there was nothing more he could say.

  "Good-bye, sergeant."

  Sheri turned and walked back to join Maureen. She saw Philip standing near the stage and went straight to him.

  "You were wonderful," she told him.

  "I'm going to miss you. Having you here was quite exciting."

  "Maybe a little too exciting, don't you think?"

  "You'll take care of yourself?"

  "Yes, and you do the same."

  He nodded.

  Impulsively, Sheri stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You saved my life, Philip Long. You are a true hero."

  He smiled down at her, admiring her, wishing things could have been different between them. "Thank you."

  She started to climb aboard the stage, and he stepped forward to help her up. When she turned to look at him one last time, he said, "I wish you well, Sheri."

  She gave him a bittersweet smile as she settled into the coach. Maureen and Charles followed her in, and it was time to go.

  As they rumbled out of Fort McDowell headed for town, Maureen gave Sheri's hand a reassuring pat. She knew how painful this departure had to be for her, and she just wished there was something more she could do.

  Behind them at McDowell, Philip stayed where he was, watching the stagecoach until it was out of sight.

  Sheri weathered the trip to town fairly well, but as tired as she was when they arrived, she knew she was in no shape to start the long trip home. They agreed to spend a few days resting in Phoenix before heading east.

  Sheri spent the next two days in her room at the hotel, only coming out to eat. Maureen had planned to stay with her and try to entertain her, but Sheri announced that she was going to use the time to write. She encouraged Maureen to spend what time she could with Charles.

  And so, during the day, Sheri did work, turning out page after page in the drama of Brand, the Half-Breed Scout, and his beloved Rachel. But at night, when she should have been sleeping, she sat by the window, watching and waiting as she remembered another night.

  Brand had come to her before. She felt certain that he would come to her again. She stayed there gazing out into the darkness, looking for her love. She fell asleep each night just before dawn, her heart aching. The day of their departure came, and Sheri was ready. Her hopes had died. There would be no happy ending for her here. Brand was not coming after her. Her life was not a novel.

  She knew Maureen was concerned about her, and she tried to allay her worries as she put on a smile and acted excited about returning home.

  "So you're ready to go? Charles is downstairs waiting to see us off."

  ''I'm more than ready. Let's go home."

  They met him in the lobby, and Sheri could sense the heartache he felt at Maureen's departure.

  "I'll write to you," he promised as he walked them out to the stage.

  "You'd better," Maureen countered.

  "When are you coming to New York to marry her?" Sheri asked, perceptively. Though Maureen hadn't said a word about their plans, she sensed they cared deeply for one another.

  They both looked at her, a bit shocked, and then laughed.

  "We're that obvious, are we?"

  "I write love stories for a living," she countered, smiling at him. "And I think you two are definitely in love."

  "I have proposed," he told her.

  "And I've accepted. We were thinking of a late fall wedding."

  "It sounds wonderful," Sheri said as she went ahead and climbed aboard the stage to give them some time without her. "I wouldn't miss it."

  Unmindful that others were watching, Charles swept Maureen into his arms and kissed her thoroughly.

  "I'll see you soon," he promised.

  Maureen was crying as she got on the stage and sat down next to Sheri. As the stagecoach lurched to a start and headed off, she leaned out the window and waved to Charles until she could no longer see him. Only then did she sit back and give Sheri a watery smile.

  "It's going to be a long trip home, isn't it?"

  "Don't worry. Charles loves you very much," Sheri told her. "The fall will be here before you know."

  Chapter Twenty-three

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

  Happily Ever After

  Rachel couldn't believe she was doing this. She couldn't believe that she was getting on the stage bound for Sacramento.

  Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to cry. She was leaving. Brand had sent her away
from him. She cast one last longing glance around, hoping to see him, but there was no sign of her scout.

  When he'd finally returned to the fort, she had sought him out. She loved him, and she wanted him to know it. His reaction had stunned her,

  though, for he'd told her that there could be no future for them. Rachel had been heartbroken by his rejection and was now on her way to start a new life.

  She boarded the stage and sat by a window. Memories of the trip to the fort came to her thenthoughts of Mercy and Jenny and the horrible Indian attack. With those memories also came images of Brand.

  As the stage rolled away, Rachel knew she would never forget him. She knew, too, that she would never love another man as she loved him.

  Brand tried to tell himself it didn't matter if Rachel left. It was true that he loved her, and she had come to him and told him that she loved him, but it couldn't be. Their worlds were too different . . . too far apart. He kept busy all day, deliberately not going to see her off. It was better this way.

  As the hours passed, though, and he knew the stage had gone, the ache in his heart drove him to desperation. He loved her as he'd never loved any woman, and he wondered how he'd ever thought he could let her go. Cursing himself for being a fool, he quickly got his horse and started after her. It might be dangerous living out West, but at least they would be together . . . if she would still have him.

  "Where are you going, Brand?" one of the other scouts shouted at him as he rode off.

  "To get my woman!" he called back, and he disappeared down the trail after the stage.

  The stage driver saw what looked like an Indian sitting on his horse in the middle of the rode ahead. He was a little frightened until he drew near enough to recognize him as one of the scouts from the fort. He halted the team to see what the fellow wanted.

  "I need to talk to one of your passengers," Brand told him, riding around to the side.

  Rachel had been wondering why the stage had stopped, and at the sight of Brand on horseback looking for her, her spirits soared.

  "Brand?" she cried. She quickly got up and opened the stage door.

  He held out his hand to her. Without stepping down from the coach, she took Brand's hand and he lifted her onto his horse before him.

  "I'll never let you go again," he promised.

  "Oh, Brand . . ." she sighed. "I love you."

  They rode off into the sunset together.

  The End

  Sheri was excited as she entered Carroll and Condon, carrying her new manuscript with her. In the months since she'd returned from Fort McDowell, she had remained secluded in her office, working diligently for long hours to finish the book on time. She'd made it, and, according to Maureen, Brand, the Half-Breed Scout, or Trail of the Renegade was better than anything she'd ever done before. Sheri hoped it was. She had put her heart and her soul into this book, and she could hardly wait to see what Mr. DeYoung was going to say after he'd read it.

  "Miss St. John! It's good to see you again," Joanna greeted her as she came through the front door.

  "It's good to see you again, too," Sheri answered. "I've got my new story for Mr. DeYoung. Is he ready for me yet?"

  "Yes, he is. Harvey Karpf and Don D'Auria are with him right now, but he said to send you right in when you arrived."

  "Thanks."

  Sheri went to Tim DeYoung's door and knocked once softly. At his bid to enter, she opened the door and walked in.

  "Sheri! You're right on time as usual," Tim said, standing to welcome her. "You know Harvey and Don, don't you?"

  "Yes, we've met before." She smiled at the two men who also worked for Carroll and Condon.

  They exchanged pleasantries and when they'd gone, Tim gestured toward the chair opposite his desk. "Come, sit down, and let me see what you've got."

  She handed him the manuscript as she took a seat.

  "What do you think of it?" he asked. "Did the trip out West help with your writing?"

  "The trip was a great help with research," she said.

  "And how was Brand, the half-breed scout? I was really curious how the time you spent with him went." He settled back in his chair, expecting her to regale him with tales of her adventures at the fort.

  "Brand was a very nice man. He helped me a lot. So did Charles Brennan, the reporter who'd written the original article, and a lieutenant named Philip Long out at the fort."

  Her editor was frustrated by her lack of specifics. "Tell me all about it. How was the fort? What did that town look like? What was the name again . . . Phoenix? Did you run into any Indians?"

  "It was the most exciting time of my life. I'd never dreamed the West was so vast or so untamed. But you'll get all the answers to your questions when you read the book. I'd hate to spoil anything for you."

  "So you're glad you went?"

  Sheri paused. For just a fleeting instant, there was a shadow of pain in her expression. She masked it so quickly that Tim was left wondering if he'd imagined it.

  "Yes," she finally answered. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

  "This is going to be very interesting reading. I'm looking forward to it."

  "I'll be waiting to hear from you."

  She stood to go, and he walked her to the outer office.

  "I'll let you know as soon as I'm done."

  Sheri thanked him and then went upstairs to visit with Cathy Goellner. She wanted to tell her friend that the book was done. As she crossed the readers' room, she was greeted warmly by Kathy Carlon, Brooke Borneman, and Bari-Leigh Buiso, some of the other women who worked there.

  "So you've finally finished, have you?" Cathy asked as Sheri came to sit by her desk.

  "I just left the manuscript with Mr. DeYoung. He said he'd get back to me right away."

  "Do you think it's good?"

  "I know it's good."

  "I want to know everything about Brand. Tell me, what was he like?"

  "Well, he was tall, dark-haired, and broad-shouldered. The first time I saw him, he was riding with some other Indian scouts, and the only way I could tell he was a half-breed was by his blue eyes."

  "Blue eyes?" Cathy was surprised, and then she sighed. "I bet he was handsome . . ."

  "Very."

  "Did you like him?"

  Sheri nodded, unable to say what she really wanted to. "He taught me a lot."

  "What did he think about having a book written about him?"

  She gave a little laugh as she remembered their initial meetings. "He was not the most cooperative in the beginning."

  "He didn't like the idea?" Cathy was surprised.

  "No. In fact, I had the distinct impression that he thought I was wasting his time."

  "That must have been difficult for you."

  "It was at first, but then . . ." Sheri saw in her mind's eye the raiding party attacking and that first terrifying ride with Brand to the cave.

  "Then, what?"

  "Then we started to get along. It was a very exciting trip. I'm glad I went. My cousin, Maureen, went along with me, and she is going to marry the reporter who wrote that article you gave me."

  "You mean Charles Brennan? Really? That is so romantic! When's the wedding?"

  "Next month. Charles is coming back here for the wedding, and then they're going to be living in Phoenix."

  "Is he a nice man?"

  "He's wonderful. He was a great help to us while we were out there. I don't know what we would have done without him."

  "You know, I've been watching for articles written by him ever since you took that first one about Brand."

  "Did you find any?" Sheri asked.

  "As a matter of fact, we did. I had Thea, Mira, and Gwen keeping an eye out, and we found four." Cathy pulled out an envelope that was in her bottom desk drawer and handed it to Sheri. "I thought you might like to see these."

  Sheri sifted through the four articles. She was smiling as she began. The first one was a short note about her research trip, "Novelist Visits The Area."
As she looked through the others, her smile faltered.

  "Scout From McDowell Arrested For Murder." "Scout Escapes From Jail." "Scout Released, Was Innocent of Charges."

  All the memories she'd been trying so hard to forget surged back to life within her. Their first night of lovemaking . . . Her desperate plan to save Brand from the lynch mob . . . Their flight into the mountains . . . The confrontation with Colonel Hancock . . . Her hands were trembling as she laid the articles back down on Cathy's desk.

  "It sounds like it was a very exciting trip," Cathy said with a slight smile. "How did you ever survive it?"

  Sheri's happy mask almost slipped, but she forced herself to be professional. "As I said, it was exciting."

  "Thank heaven he didn't kill that man."

  "Brand may be half-Indian, but he's not a murderer," Sheri retorted fiercely.

  "Are you ever going to see him again?" Cathy could tell that Sheri cared about the scout.

  "No."

  "Too bad. He sounds fascinating. Let's just hope he's a bestseller, what do you say?"

  "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

  "Have you got an idea for the next book?"

  "Not yet. I was going to wait until I heard from Mr. DeYoung. I wanted to make sure he liked this first Brand, the Half-Breed Scout book before I plot a second one."

  "I'm sure it's wonderful."

  "We'll see."

  The door to Carroll and Condon opened, and Joanna looked up to find the most handsome man she'd ever seen coming toward her. He was over six feet tall, and he moved with an easy grace unusual in a man his size. She was mesmerized and found she could only stare at him. His hair was black and long, but he wore it tied back. Joanna thought his features were as perfect as God could make them, and his eyes were a brilliant, almost hypnotizing blue. She had the distinct impression that he missed nothing with that penetrating gaze. He was wearing dark pants that fit him like a second skin, polished boots, a white shirt open at the throat, and a jacket. She could not imagine who he could be, and right then she didn't care. She was just enjoying the view.

  "Can I help you?" she managed, gazing up at him wide-eyed when he stopped before her desk.

  "Yes, I'm looking for someone. . . . Miss Sheridan St. John. I was told that she was here this afternoon."