With a deep sigh, Brenna set those thoughts aside for the moment as practicality weighed in. She must learn her way around this foreign land and find accommodations for her duration. Reports indicated that the territory was a hard land and her solicitor used every last bit of persuasion trying to convince her not to go. Brenna’s determination won, though she felt grateful at least one person knew where she’d gone.
The crisp wind blowing across the grass-covered valley caressed Brenna’s face. She pulled the fine, wool scarf, the last Christmas gift from her mother, tighter around her neck and shoulders. Her long, heavy, wool coat kept the rest of her warm enough. Although, she felt it fair to admit to herself that it wasn’t the weather that brought on a sudden chill. Twenty-five years of Scottish winters made her impervious to the cool breezes she encountered in this country. The chill came from fear.
She felt fear as she had never before in her life. Through the length of her journey here, she had been only angry and saddened about leaving home. Fear didn’t have a chance to settle into her mind until she faced the stark reality of what she’d done. The questions surfaced again. What if he’d left Montana? What if I never find the truth about my parents? Brenna preferred not to think of “what if.” She had plenty of money to survive and even start a new life here if she so chose. Her parents provided well for her, though some of that remained a mystery to her for the funds she now carried in her reticule had been tucked securely at a bank in Boston. Brenna’s only clue had been a bank draft found among her father’s papers in his study and later confirmed by his solicitor.
The other passengers alighted from the stagecoach, though her thoughts were not on them either. Nor did she notice at first the damp dirt on which she stood.
One man watched from the door of the general store as the passengers alighted from the stage. It seemed as though every day new folks made their way north. Some for opportunity, others for adventure, and some to find a bit of peace. He could usually tell by the looks of a person what brought them along and it didn’t take long to tell which ones would be hightailing it back to from wherever they came once they’d had a taste of winter. Most of the men and women stepping down appeared to be well-seasoned to frontier life—except one. He stepped away from the general store, slowly making his way across the street to get a better look at a beauty he felt quite certain fell into the group of those who couldn’t possibly handle life in his wilderness.
Brenna took in her surroundings. Briarwood appeared to be exactly what replies to her inquiries reported—a small settlement content to grow at its own pace with wide streets and a good-sized general store located next to a barber shop. Another large building, void of sign but well-tended, stood to the other side. A doctor’s office stood down the street near the livery. The hotel saloon, where she had been dropped off, was across from the general store and appeared clean enough, but she cringed at the thought of sleeping in a saloon and decided she’d find other accommodations.
A dressmaker’s shop with simple versions of the latest fashions stood next to a small bank bearing a clock above the sign. A café and small newspaper and telegraph office were nearby. Farther down, a few houses lined the street and in the distance stood a proud white church next to a well-kept churchyard. A small red schoolhouse was located off to the other side of a meadow near the church. It appeared to be freshly painted. Despite the population growing in the southern part of the territory, Briarwood seemed to move to its own rhythm. Ignoring the faster progress of other towns, the peacefulness of this settlement reminded Brenna a bit of home. She held back the tears and replaced them with the determination that brought her this far.
Brenna watched as the stagecoach drove away leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. She watched her last link to the life she left behind as the rambling transportation disappeared across the land. In her mind, there was no turning back until she found the answers she so desperately sought.
Brenna picked up her small valise and noticed that the driver had left her trunks on the side of the road. Taking yet another deep breath, she turned and then nearly collapsed.
“What in darnation did you think you were doing Riley?” The angry bellow followed a scrawny man who nearly aided Brenna in her fall to the sludge below.
A strong pair of hands caught her from behind and pulled her quickly back to the boardwalk. Forgetting those hands for the moment, Brenna watched the man she assumed was Riley, fall face first and consume a mouthful of the grimed street in the process. A disturbing and apparently angry man pushed open the swinging doors and stormed out to the street. Riley picked himself up off of the ground before the goliath could kick him in the ribs, which is where his booted foot almost landed.
“That’s right. You run off now and don’t let me catch you back in here until you’re old enough to drink and whore!”
A small crowd gathered around and a few unapproved glances shot toward the rangy and unfortunate-looking man who had just shouted. He yelled at the onlookers who then dispersed and went about their business. Brenna just stood there, not knowing what to think about the people of this new land so foreign to her own. She had witnessed her fair share of brawls, unbeknownst to her overprotective parents, but these people appeared to be so open about it. And she had heard people call the Highlanders barbarians.
Brenna also found herself somewhat fascinated and couldn’t seem to step away. The same disturbing man who had thrown the smaller man he called Riley onto the street, took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh a few times, transferring dust from his pants to his hat, before turning and noticing her. A small smile formed on his mouth, showing the barest hint of crooked teeth. Brenna found herself feeling uncomfortable as his eyes roamed freely up and down her body. She felt exposed, despite all of the fabric she wore.
“Howdy ma’am,” the stranger said. “My name is Bradford James and it’s sure a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Brenna found herself wishing for an escape and her heart nearly leapt in her chest at the sound of the deep, smooth voice coming from directly behind her.
“Quite a show you’ve put on for us today James.”
If Bradford had been paying attention, he might have noticed the giant standing behind the lady before then. Brenna saw the subtle change come over Mr. James and almost feared looking behind her. The strong hands. She now remembered them pulling her to safety. She would bet anything that those hands belonged to the man who seemed to be the cause of Mr. James’s angry discomfort.
“Now Gallagher, this ain’t any of your concern. Just a little family disagreement,” he said and then turned his attention back to Brenna. “I didn’t catch your name ma’am.”
“She didn’t give it.”
Goodness, that voice could scare the fierce Scottish winds off of their currents, she thought. Brenna had never remained quiet for so long, but she willingly deferred this particular argument to her mysterious protector, so she kept her peace and waited.
Bradford realized that he wouldn’t get anywhere with the lady as long as Gallagher stood there and he was annoyed for it. Lordy she’s a pretty thing. All of that pretty red hair and soft milky skin. He wondered what it felt like to touch it. Yep, the prettiest thing to ever come to these parts and I’m not about to lose her to a Gallagher. That family would take the entire territory if given the chance, he thought. If Bradford acknowledged the truth, they almost did own the entire territory—at least the parts they weren’t fighting over with his boss. He tipped his hat to the mystery lady and sauntered back into the saloon.
Brenna let out a slow, quiet breath, grateful that Mr. James departed. Everything about that man made her skin crawl. Remembering why the stranger had left, Brenna slowly turned around and found herself staring into a wide chest covered in a clean black shirt and dusty coat. She looked up, nearly a foot above her, and found a grin. Then she saw the most beautiful blue eyes ever to be found on a man—not even a regular blue. Those eyes looked almost gray, but so dark, like t
he night sky when the moon shone. His dark brown hair seemed to escape from under the wide-brimmed hat she’d seen so many of the men out here wear. His face didn’t appear to have met a razor in a few days. The result should have made him look unkempt, but instead he looked dangerous. The high cheek bones and square jaw combined with those dark eyes were only magnified by his deeply tanned skin. Obviously her rescuer—a cowboy a gentleman on the train would have called him—didn’t always wear his hat.
“Not exactly a place for a lady to be standing on her own,” the man drawled.
Ethan noticed that it took the woman a moment to realize he had spoken. When she did and decided to respond, her lyrical brogue surprised him, the effects stirring him.
“Yes I realize that sir, but the staged stopped here, so this is where I stand.” Brenna took another deep breath wishing to find her grandfather. She used that term in the loosest of forms. She also needed to find a hotel.
Subtlety and patience were two traits she did not possess. She said, “I don’t suppose you know of a Nathan Hunter residing in the area?”
The grin slowly faded and those grayish-blue midnight-colored eyes became even darker if that was possible.
“Yes, he lives around here.” The cowboy’s voice turned hard.
She found that curious, but the relief that coursed through Brenna couldn’t trample the anger still festering deep within her breast for the man she sought out.
“Would you happen to know where he lives?”
The giant looked as though he didn’t want to answer her and those dark eyes took on a dangerous glint.
“Now what would you want with Nathan Hunter?”
Brenna didn’t know what about this man riled her more—the tone of his voice or the chilled look in his eyes.
“I do appreciate your help sir with my near tumble, but I don’t see how that is any concern of yours.”
After a moment he still hadn’t answered.
“He’s my grandfather if you must know,” she said indignantly.
Ethan didn’t think he could be more shocked if his brother walked down the streets of Briarwood buck naked. He studied the woman from head to toe, much like Bradford James had done, but with different intent. He couldn’t tell much about her body as she kept it well covered in expensive blue wool and a deep green scarf. She stood about a foot shorter than his six feet four and he’d guess that she was nice and curvy underneath that coat. He did notice her hair—a deep, dark flaming red under a midnight-blue hat. Under the hat, expressive eyes as green as the summer pastures out at the ranch were surrounded by creamy white skin that looked to have been well guarded from the sun. Now how can a beautiful foreigner be related to that bastard? he thought. He couldn’t fault James for admiring the shiny penny newly arrived, but out west that could mean trouble and it didn’t mean he liked it.
Brenna found herself growing impatient as this man boldly studied her, though she had to admit that it didn’t bother her. Mr. James’s perusal disgusted her—this one merely irritated her. She grew impatient because after months of travel she was so close to finding her grandfather and this man wanted to gawk.
Finally he spoke. “The Double Bar is north of here. That’s Hunter’s spread, though I wasn’t aware of him having any relations still around here.”
“Well, I haven’t exactly met him before,” she confessed and then wondered why. What business was it of this man’s anyway? If she wanted to be truthful with herself, it could be that from the moment she looked into those fascinating eyes and grinning face, she trusted him. Brenna didn’t want to ponder that since it could just be weariness from her travels, and she didn’t need to be making mistakes. The journey had been difficult enough convincing men she wasn’t alone. Brenna had even gone so far as to wear one of her mother’s old rings over the glove on her left hand. Whether others had thought her married or a widow, she didn’t care so long as they left her alone.
The stranger offered only a sardonic raising of his eyebrow, which plainly told Brenna that the man thought she was daft. Well, so be it, she thought.
Ethan did think she was daft and most definitely in over her head. He’d just as soon see the woman right back on the next stage out of there. In the meantime, he didn’t want to take her out to the old man’s place without more information. It didn’t matter that she obviously possessed gumption; he couldn’t risk it. Hell, I’d try to keep a stray dog from the hands of that man, he thought. For reasons he couldn’t fathom, he just appointed himself her protector, and he didn’t even know her name.
“Well, I can certainly show you the way to the Double Bar, but you may want to stay in town for a couple of nights until you’ve had a chance to actually meet Hunter.”
“Thank you sir, but I have no intention of staying with Nathan Hunter. If you could point me toward accommodations in town, I would be grateful.”
As an afterthought, Brenna stuck out her hand and said, “It seems I’ve forgotten my manners. Brenna Cameron.”
The man raised that infernal brow. “Ethan Gallagher.”
“A pleasure to meet you Mr. Gallagher.”
In answer to her question, Ethan was about to point her across the street to Widow Dawson’s Boarding House but Bradford James chose that moment to come sauntering back out of the saloon.
“Well, well. It don’t appear you’ve gone far Gallagher.” He tipped his hat to Brenna and smiled, showing discolored teeth. This man really had an unfortunate mouth.
“I could say the same for you Bradford.” That smooth, deep voice took on a sharp tone. Brenna wondered why these two seemed at such odds, but decided to once again keep silent. She wasn’t in such desperate need of friends that she would be willing to shake hands with Mr. James.
Bradford lost his smile and wished he could shoot the one off of Gallagher’s pretty face. He decided to ignore Ethan and turned his attention back to the woman.
The idiotic sop was obviously intoxicated, Brenna thought in disgust.
“Ma’am, I’d be happy to escort you to your destination,” he slurred slightly, even as he held out his arm for her to take hold.
Brenna forced herself not to cringe openly and finally decided to break her silence. She really didn’t have time for the lout or his ridiculous advances. “That won’t be necessary sir, but I thank you for the gesture.” She hoped that would be the end of it, and in polite society it should have been. Apparently Mr. James never entered polite society.
“Now ma’am, it ain’t safe for a lady like yerself to be walking around alone.”
“Be that as it may sir, I am quite capable and as you can see, in good hands.” Brenna gestured toward Ethan hoping he would forgive her boldness and go along with her deception. The dark look that came over Mr. James didn’t reassure her.
“She’s with you Gallagher?”
“She is.”
Ethan said nothing more and Brenna slowly released the breath she didn’t realized she’d been holding. She did that a lot lately.
“Well now ain’t that sweet. I hadn’t taken her for the type, but I guess you never can tell,” Bradford said with a beastly laugh, too drunk to keep quiet. Another equally ugly man—she hadn’t expected so many in one town—appeared to be a friend to the drunk although he hit Bradford in the ribs and told him to shut up.
Ethan ignored the other man and stepped around Brenna, blocking her view of Bradford as he spoke with him. “And what type would that be?” His smooth voice sounded cold and hard.
Brenna worried that she might have caused what could turn into an unpleasant altercation. She gently laid a soft hand on Ethan’s arm hoping to gain his attention. He ignored her. She found that annoying.
“The type to bed down with the likes of you Gallagher, but with all of that money, she probably just shuts her eyes.”
Brenna cringed at the sickening laugh, but not nearly as much as the sound of a fist hitting bone and the blood that seemed to appear all over Mr. James’s face. Oddly, the crude comment ab
out her being a whore didn’t bother her and she easily discarded it from her mind.
“You’re having all of the fun without me again Ethan?”
Brenna turned to see another man about her age with dark brown hair and an easy smile. There could be no mistaking where those eyes came from. This one looked just as handsome as Ethan, and Brenna had no doubt they were related.
Ethan waited a moment to be sure that Bradford would stay on the ground and turned to his brother. “No, you’re just late as usual.” Ethan offered the younger man a genuine smile. “Are you finished up at the livery?”
His brother merely nodded as his attention turned to focus on Brenna. “The name is Gabriel Gallagher ma’am and it is indeed a pleasure.” The grin on the man’s face brought one to Brenna’s and she found herself delighted with his charm.
“I am Brenna Cameron, Mr. Gallagher.”
“Please, it’s Gabriel.”
“Very well, Gabriel. Your brother kindly came to my aid with a certain . . . mishap.”
Ethan arched a brow at her as he looked back at Bradford being carted away to the doc by two of his equally inebriated friends. He half wondered how a genteel woman did no more than slightly shudder at what just took place.
Gabriel lifted his own brow in mocking laughter and said, “Yes, well Ethan is our local rescuer of damsels in distress.”
Ethan rolled his eyes at his brother.
Brenna laughed and replied, “Well I assure you that I am no longer in distress and merely here to visit . . . uh family.”
“I know pretty much everyone in these parts, though no Camerons. Who might your family be?” asked Gabriel still smiling.
Brenna wondered if others felt the same way about her grandfather.
“Nathan Hunter,” she said.
Ethan watched as the smile and charm left his brother’s chiseled face and waited for the smoldering ball of fury to erupt as it usually did when Hunter’s name was mentioned. He knew Gabriel wouldn’t take his anger out on a woman, but his hatred ran deep, like all of theirs.
When the Heart Falls Page 21