Saving the Mail Order Bride

by Linda Broday

  They moved quietly along the wet ground, and he noticed a cottontail about twenty feet ahead, sitting underneath a mesquite tree. Barely breathing, he drew back and launched the missile. But by the time the rock reached the spot, the rabbit had scampered into some dry brush. Jack muttered a curse.

  Nora rested a hand on his arm. “You’ll get the next one. You’re quite good at throwing.”

  “Almost as good as you, huh?”

  “Almost.”

  Jack picked up another rock and motioned her forward. They walked until he could see her getting tired. The sun was setting. It would be night soon, and he’d rather not climb the embankment in the dark. “Let’s head back.”

  They’d taken about a dozen steps when another rabbit hopped from cover and sat with its nose twitching. Jack quickly threw as hard as he could.

  The rock struck the rabbit squarely. He rushed toward the small mound, in case he’d only addled it. Loud huffing behind him made him realize he was dragging Nora, and he slowed. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Get our food.”

  He picked the rabbit up to examine it. “It’s dead.”

  “You did it, Jack.” Nora’s smile was wide this time. “I didn’t want to eat that wood rat.”

  “Me either.” He wished he had the manacles off so he could put an arm around her. But no need wishing for that. She probably wouldn’t want him to anyway.

  “How did you learn to hunt game with a rock?”

  “I pretty much taught myself to make do in a pinch. Out here, we don’t always have everything we need, and the nearest town is often days away. The prospect of starving is an excellent motivator. So is making noise and getting caught. Sometimes I can’t afford to fire a gun.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is. Your aim is very good.”

  He caught her look of admiration and winked. “Apparently, so is yours.”

  By the time they reached the safety of the cave, Nora was winded. Jack stirred the sleeping embers and added more wood. “Get warm while I cook supper.”

  With the aid of her knife, he prepared the rabbit and slid chunks onto a skewer fashioned from a small stick. After putting the meat into the flames to char, he cleaned his hands with the last of the rainwater from his hat and sat next to her.

  “It won’t be long. I’m sorry I don’t have more.”

  “Don’t fret over it, Jack. It’s lots better than our other choice.”

  Jack chuckled. “I wish you could’ve seen yourself. You were whacking that poor rat with everything you had. Even gave my leg a lick or two.” He rubbed his knee.

  She laughed. “I probably resembled a wild-eyed woman for sure, but I wasn’t about to let it get away.”

  The lady was quite a picture even now, with her flushed cheeks, twinkling eyes, and messy cloud of honey-hued hair. She was doing things to him no other woman had ever done. His heart thudded against his ribs.

  He couldn’t stop staring. “You’re quite beautiful, Nora Kane.”

  Her eyes lowered as he pressed his mouth to hers.

  Although he meant to merely brush her lips, the kiss held hunger and desire. Shaken, he leaned closer, the chain rattling. How he yearned to put both arms around her and hold her against him.

  Nora touched his stubbled face with her free hand and parted her lips ever so slightly, her soft breath mingling with his, and Jack found the only peace an outlaw knew.

  Seven

  The low fire gave off an eerie glow that painted the dark walls of the cave red. Their bellies full, they’d called it a night. Unlike Nora, whose soft breath indicated deep sleep, Jack had yet to close his eyes. His jumbled thoughts had him in an uproar.

  Before, he’d always known where he was going—at least for the short term. The long term was to the grave, and that was a given. How he got from one to the other seemed mostly unimportant…as long as the grave didn’t shift to a short-term destination.

  The pressure of Nora’s plump bottom against his groin was a big reason for the upheaval twisting and turning inside him until he was one of them pretzels she talked about.

  Then there was the kiss.

  It shouldn’t have affected him that way. He’d kissed a lot of women. True, most were of the paid variety, and the amount of money exchanged determined the depth of the passion. Yet Nora had kissed him because she seemed to like it.

  To be honest, the moment their lips had met, his stomach twisted upside down and sideways, the same way it did when he was riding a bucking bronc.

  The kiss meant something more than the mere touching of lips. What was it he’d really expected of her when he wrote those letters anyway? Fantasy was one thing. Reality another. Maybe he hadn’t really thought she’d come.

  He draped a protective arm across her stomach and tried to ferret out his motives.

  Only the lowest kind of weasel would send for a bride without wanting her. She wasn’t a fish to throw back after deciding he could catch a bigger one. He wouldn’t even think of returning her to O’Brien, and she clearly had nowhere else to go besides.

  Gentle memories of his Rachel drifted across his mind. He couldn’t even recall her face now, which shamed him, but her warm touch remained branded on his skin. She’d had real beauty on the inside, where it mattered, that much he remembered. Each morning and night, he would hold her close, kiss her, tell her he loved her. Rachel was an extension of him.

  And his four-year-old son, Alex’s, bright, inquisitive spirit had always brought a smile, even on the most frustrating days.

  The answer to what he wanted from Nora suddenly emerged from the fog in his brain—to share a life with someone. To not have this loneliness burrow bone-deep inside and become permanent. To ease the noise inside his head.

  Still…what could he offer her? A life of running, dodging bullets, waiting for the grim reaper. That was all he had.

  You can have more. A good life. A family again. Could he believe that small voice in his head?

  Nora mumbled something unintelligible and shifted. The slight friction of her bottom rubbing against him did nothing for his already ragged self-control. He clenched his teeth and inhaled sharply. This forced closeness was pure torture. If he could just remove these handcuffs, he’d throw them as far as he could send them.

  There was only so much a man could take, and he’d reached the end of his limits.

  Nora’s unpredictable nature added to his stress and put a niggling worry inside his head as well. He couldn’t quite figure her out. Something had been bothering him, and now he knew what it was. Maybe she wasn’t as chancy and erratic as she appeared. That could be an act. She hadn’t told him about the knife right away or the people following her. It occurred to him that she could’ve known he was an outlaw all this time and was using him to rid herself of her problems.

  He froze. If that was true, she might be planning to leave him the minute the coast was clear. Just as Darcy Howard had changed her mind at the last minute, Nora Kane could be ready to snatch away everything.

  The moments ticked by and the fire turned to embers.

  As his eyes finally drifted shut, he remembered a sign he’d once seen scrawled on a board in Cimarron: If you climb in the saddle, be ready for the ride.

  * * *

  Nora was gone. Jack jerked awake in the gray dawn, holding up the empty handcuff that had been around her wrist when they’d laid down together.

  What the hell! Of all the low-down tricks. Maybe she’d had the key all this time and only pretended to throw it after the stagecoach wreck. That could be why they hadn’t found it. Narrowing his eyes, he saw no sign of her in the cave. Just wait until he caught up with her!

  Only she could be on horseback now if she had this planned out and someone had been following to help her.

  He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “Listen to yourself. Stop that.
”

  The truth was, she had no motive for disappearing. He hadn’t done anything for her yet, except find the cave and feed her. The men trailing her still were after her, and he had her knife. But he’d returned that strange ledger to her keeping.

  One end of the manacles dangled off his wrist as he pushed to his feet and let out a loud curse.

  Footsteps crunched outside. He spun around ready to fight, but he saw no enemy. Nora strolled in, her arms full of wood. “Good morning. I’m glad you’re awake. I thought we might want to warm up before we leave. It’s a chilly morning.”

  The sight of Nora stole his breath, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her hair curling about her shoulders, and her moist lips slightly parted. Her chipper mood and the fact she hadn’t left him behind made him feel like a fool. He’d let himself get carried away with a bunch of nonsense.

  Jack held up the dangling handcuff. “Mind explaining how you got out of these?”

  She stacked the wood to the side and knelt to blow on the embers. “Nothing to explain.”

  “How did you manage to unlock your side?”

  “I straightened out the hairpin this morning and it opened right up. Jack, if you’d focused on a positive outcome yesterday and used a lighter touch instead of jamming the thing into the lock like it was something you had to kill, you could’ve had better results.” Her glance made him uncomfortable. “But you had already decided it wouldn’t work, because it never did.” She eased a piece of wood on the glowing embers and sat back. “You get the effort you put into something in return. You have to admit that you barely tried with my hairpin.”

  The message was loud and clear. Jack growled. She should’ve been a Baptist preacher. He tucked in his shirt, still feeling lopsided without his gun belt. “The fire feels good.”

  “I took the liberty of looking around while I was out and didn’t see anything stirring.”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “A few hours.” She propped her arms on her knees. “Are you always so grumpy in the mornings? If so, it’s better for a wife to know now.”

  He felt the need to explain, and he almost never did that. “Finding you gone threw me. For one, I’m usually a light sleeper and jump up at the sound of an eye blinking.”

  Nora grinned and stood. “So, what you’re saying is that I’ve upset you and you’re angry at yourself that you’re slipping.”

  “I’m not slipping.” Except maybe she’d hit the nail on the head. He should’ve heard her, felt her leaving his side. Being caught unawares never boded well for an outlaw who lived or died by his quick senses.

  “You know, something my father said came to mind just now. He was fond of telling my mother that she didn’t have to attend every argument to which she’d been invited. That might be sage advice here. Considering.”

  Jack clenched his jaw so tightly he thought he’d broken it and began to count from one.

  She threw up her hands. “Oh forevermore! I can’t believe you, Jack. How are we going to have any children with you counting at me all the time?”

  Children?

  Dammit, he’d lost count.

  Silence spun a silken web between them, one that added to his unease. Finally, he was able to resort to begging. “If you still have that hairpin, would you please unlock me?”

  “I’ll be happy to free you.” She took the pin from her hair. “Let’s move to the other side of the fire, where the light spills in from the entrance.”

  He sat down next to her and pointed out. “You didn’t have any light before.”

  “I did it by feel. However, I prefer to see this time.”

  “Whatever works, go ahead. I just want the damn thing off.”

  Nora bent over to work on the lock. Minutes ticked by and he was still held fast.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Quiet. I’m concentrating.” She raised her head and stared up at the ceiling with intense focus while gently working the hairpin in the lock. He was about to tell her they had to get going when the handcuff sprang open.

  Nora pinned her hair back and stood, buttoning her coat. “Coming, Jack?”

  Hell! He kicked dirt onto the fire, put on his hat, and draped the set of manacles around his neck, thinking they might come in handy. Nora was halfway down the steep embankment by the time he left the cave. At least the sun had come out, and that improved his spirits. That and being free. He could raise both arms and flap them like a bird if he so desired.

  The main thing was that he could fight now if he had to. But it felt odd not having Nora right next to him—like he was missing a part of himself. He realized he actually liked having her near.

  Tightening the space between them, he kept by her side, and they must’ve gone a mile or more when the deep bellow of a cow nearby reached him. The softer cry of a calf rode on the breeze.

  “Nora, pull off one of your good petticoats.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to see if I can get close enough to rope that cow.”

  She narrowed her gaze and hissed. “With my clothes? It’ll only leave me with the one you ruined that doesn’t even come to my knees. It’ll feel like I’m naked.”

  Jack shrugged. “It’s not like I have much to make a rope from.”

  “Your trousers. Use them.”

  “I don’t think they’d work. Some milk sure would sit well in my belly. Yours too, I’m guessing.”

  “Fine.” She turned her back, lifted her skirt, and slid out of the undergarment. “Anything else you need?” she asked sweetly, blowing a lock of hair from her face. “Maybe my corset? Or how about my shift? Would the cow be needing those to perhaps warm herself against the coolness of the morning?”

  “Funny woman.” He turned away to hide a grin and removed the knife. He soon had the undergarment in strips, which he tied together and braided. Yanking up a trailing vine, he wound it around the length of petticoat and tested the sturdiness. It would have to do. “It might be best to wait here.”

  “Oh no you don’t, buster. I have to see this.”

  “Just don’t do anything to spook the animal.”

  She gave him one of those I-wasn’t-born-yesterday sort of looks and followed him through the tangle of undergrowth. Fifty yards ahead stood a cow with a swollen bag and a frayed rope around her neck. She must belong at a house somewhere nearby.

  Slow and easy, he worked his way forward, murmuring quiet words. Just as he got to the heifer, she rolled her eyes and ran a couple of yards and stopped to stare. The cow’s stubborn streak reminded him a little of Nora, but he kept that thought to himself. She had unlocked the handcuffs, and she had given him the petticoats when he asked. Oh, and tended his raw wrist with the softest touch he’d felt since losing Rachel.

  Actually, she could be a big help in this current endeavor.

  “Nora, if you can circle around and get on the backside of mama cow, I think I’ll be able to slip this around her neck.”

  “I’ll do my best, but don’t holler at me if this doesn’t work.” She maneuvered her way through the tangle and positioned herself.

  The milk cow chewed her cud and kept a wary eye on Nora but didn’t move. Jack slowly advanced, building a loop in the long strip. Doubt rose that this would work, but he had nothing else to use.

  Nora kept talking in a soothing voice and moving calmly toward the animal. So far so good.

  When Jack was five feet away, he threw the loop over the cow’s head and pulled, digging in his heels. The animal’s eyes rolled back in her head, then she bolted, dragging him through a mud puddle and some thorny mesquite, heading directly for Nora.

  The spit dried in Jack’s mouth. “Get out of the way! She’ll run right over the top of you.”

  Nora held out her arms. “Whoa. We’re not going to hurt you. We just want some milk.”

 
; The mama stopped short, her muscles shuddering, and Nora walked right up to her. Jack spat out a mouthful of grass and mud.

  “How did you do that?” Jack wiped the mud from his face with his bandana and stared in amazement.

  “Us girls stick together. I’m sure she’ll be happy with the pressure off her full bag.” Nora patted the animal’s hide. “Go ahead and milk, and I’ll keep her calm.”

  Still admiring Nora’s skill, Jack removed his hat and, after more than a few misses and comments from Nora, filled it with fresh milk. He released the cow and they sat down to enjoy the bounty before it leaked out through the weave of the felt.

  “Tell me the truth. What just happened?” he asked.

  “I lived on a farm until my parents died and I milked the cow each morning, so I learned a thing or two about them. No mystery. This milk is going to be good. I missed having fresh.”

  “Why is it that you didn’t milk Miss Bessie? You could’ve done a better job.”

  Nora grinned. “And deprive me of watching you? Nope.”

  Jack got lost in her eyes and reached for her hand. “You’re something, lady. You know that? And you have a soothing touch.”

  She pulled her hand from his. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “I do. Let me poke a hole in the crown of the hat so you can drink.”

  After he did, she got underneath and let the milk run into her mouth. The liquid dribbled down her chin and onto her clothes. She wiped the mess off her face, then ever so slowly, ran her pink-tipped tongue around her lips. Her brown eyes widened as she met his gaze.

  Jack swallowed hard and covered the hole he’d poked into his hat with a finger. The way the sunlight brushed her hair, turning it to spun gold, took his breath. When he could move and breathe, he gently wiped away a teasing bit of white above her top lip with his thumb. “Missed a spot.”

  Something sizzled between them, and suddenly the cold day grew very warm.

  “Want some?” Nora asked.

  For a minute, he stared, trying to figure out how to answer.

  Finally, she held up the milk. “Your turn. Better hurry before it leaks out.”