Anonymous Bride

by McDonough, Vickie;

  Jack stood at the crossroads and looked back toward town. She was too far away to see Lookout, but she knew it was only about a mile over the last hill she crossed. She’d never been this far out of town alone, and though it was an adventure of sorts, hesitation nagged at her like a pesky gnat.

  Ma had always lectured her on the dangers of wandering too far from town. Besides wild animals like coyote or even a wolf, there were outlaws, and the possibility of a renegade Comanche slipping across the Red River from their reservation in Indian Territory. Jack brushed her hair from her face. Did Comanches scalp people? She swallowed hard and looked at the road to town again. If she turned and walked back that way, the road would eventually turn into Bluebonnet Lane and lead right to her front door.

  But what if her ma was out there somewhere, waiting ... praying for someone to save her? She looked across the open prairie. Both Ricky and Jonesy lived out that way, though she’d never been to either’s home.

  She was dying for a drink of water. Why hadn’t she thought to take some?

  If she kept walking straight, she’d eventually come to the river, but if she turned and went to one of her friend’s homes, she could get a drink and maybe discover news about her ma.

  One thing was for certain: She wasn’t stupid enough to venture any farther from town unarmed. She tugged the gun from the bib of her overalls and removed the tin from her pocket. She opened the can and found eight bullets. Though she’d never loaded a gun before, she’d watched Luke do it several times.

  She slid open the cylinder, and with a shaky hand, dropped one of the bullets into the empty hole. One by one, she filled each slot and then snapped the cylinder in place. With the tin back in her pocket, she lifted her chin and walked away from town. The gun weighed heavy in her hand, but with it loaded, she was afraid to put it back in her overalls. Besides, if she needed the weapon, she wanted it to be handy.

  Her feet ate up the dry ground, and the heat from the sun made the top of her head hot. Ma would berate her for not wearing a bonnet, but she could hardly do that when she was wearing overalls. What she needed was a decent felt hat like her friends wore.

  As she topped the next rise, a small, white house rested in the distance. Two people walked her way, both carrying fishing poles. Jack’s heart jumped. Ricky and Jonesy. She jogged toward them, but as she drew close, both boys’ eyes widened and stared at the gun.

  “Who you gonna shoot?” Ricky asked.

  “Not us, I hope.” Jonesy laughed, but it sounded forced.

  “Am I ever glad to see you.” Relief washed through Jack, giving her energy that the sun had threatened to drive away. “My ma is missing. Nobody’s seen her since last night.”

  “Whoa! What happened to her?” Ricky’s blue eyes glistened with curiosity.

  “Why are you way out here?” Jonesy asked.

  “Luke found some tracks behind our house. I was following them, but I lost them somehow.”

  “The marshal let you come clear out here alone?”

  Jack shrugged. “He don’t know I’m here. He told me to stay at home with those two brides, but they were cooking up a storm in Ma’s kitchen. I couldn’t stay. I have to find her.”

  Jonesy took his pole off his shoulder and leaned on it. “What makes you thinks she’s out here?”

  “The tracks headed out of town in this direction, but before long, they got mixed with the other prints on the road. I just kept walking, hoping I’d find her.”

  Ricky looked around then refocused on Jack. “Why would she be out here?”

  Jack stomped her foot, and tears stung her eyes. “Aren’t you listening? I told you someone took her. I saw a man last night in Miss Blackstone’s room, and I told Ma, but she didn’t believe me. When I got up this morning, I noticed Ma had never been to bed. And Miss Blackstone was missing, too.”

  “Maybe that bride took her.” Jonesy offered.

  “But why?”

  “Well, you said Luke liked your ma’s pie best. Maybe she decided to get rid of the competition.”

  Jack hadn’t considered that angle. “But how would she know Ma was the anonymous bride?” She narrowed her gaze and scowled at her friends. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

  Both boys shook their heads and eyed the gun again as if they thought she might shoot them if they had. Jack nearly laughed at their comical expressions, but she wasn’t in a laughing mood.

  “Is that thing loaded?” Ricky lifted his hat and raked lines with his fingers in his white-blond hair.

  “What good would it do me if it wasn’t?” Jack wasn’t about to tell them that she’d just loaded the gun.

  “You even know how to shoot it?”

  Jack shrugged. “Just point and pull the trigger. How hard can it be?”

  Her friends glanced at each other, and their brows lifted. Ricky turned back to her and held out his hand. “Maybe you’d better give that to me. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt—or uh, shoot one of us by accident.”

  Jack backed up two steps and held the gun against her chest. “But I need it to find Ma.”

  Ricky shook his head and handed his fishing pole to Jonesy. “No, you don’t. Give it to me, and we’ll help you search for your ma.”

  Tears sprouted in her eyes. “You will? Truly?”

  Both of her friends nodded. Ricky stepped forward, hand held out in front of him. “C’mon. Gimme that gun. You’re too young to be messing with it.”

  Jack glanced down at the heavy black weapon. Truth be told, the gun made her nervous. She handed it over to her friend. “But I gotta get that back and hide it before Ma finds out I took it.”

  Ricky quickly unloaded the gun and put the bullets in his pocket. He shoved the revolver into the waistband of his pants and crossed his arms. “Now, start at the beginning. When did you last see your ma?”

  Jack related the story to them. “I think Ma must have gone upstairs to check Miss Blackstone’s room, and the man must’ve taken her prisoner.”

  “Why would he do that?” Jonesy asked.

  Jack flung her arms up. “I don’t know.” She told them about the key and unlocked door and Luke finding the trail. “So I followed the prints.”

  “Hey!” Jonesy shoved Ricky in the arm, receiving a glare from the taller boy. “I just remembered something. The other evening I went out in the far pasture to bring in the cows for milking. You know that old shack we used to play in?”

  Ricky nodded. “Yeah, so what?”

  “I saw a stranger go into it, that’s what. I meant to tell my pa but got busy milking and forgot until just now. And guess what else. He had two horses.”

  Ricky’s eyes lit up at the same time hope sparked within Jack. “Maybe that’s where he put Ma and that bride.”

  “Yeah, let’s go check it out.” Ricky spun around, his hand resting on the gun handle.

  “Wait! Someone needs to go tell Luke about this,” Jack said.

  Ricky faced her again. “That’s probably a good idea. You go.”

  Jack shoved her hands to her hips and glared at her friend. “I’m not going. It’s my ma that’s missing.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” said Ricky. “But you’ll have to be quiet and do what I tell you.”

  Jack nodded. Ricky was only a few years older than her, but he was bigger—and he was smart, for a boy.

  “Then you need to go to town and fetch the marshal, Jonesy.”

  Their friend scowled. “I’m the one who saw the stranger. I should get to go.”

  “I’ll let you have the pick of any of my commies if you’ll do it.” Ricky reached into his pocket and pulled out several clay marbles.

  Jonesy’s eyes widened. “You will?”

  Ricky nodded, though his face looked pinched. His collection of marbles was his most treasured possession. Jack knew he was sacrificing one for her, and that meant a lot, considering how little money his family had.

  “All right, I’ll go to town and tell the marshal, but I’m coming ri
ght back, so wait on me before you do anything. And I’m not taking these fishin’ poles.” He dropped them to the ground and took off running toward town.

  Ricky snatched up the rods. “C’mon. Let’s run these back to my house, get some water, and go check out that cabin. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find your ma.”

  Jack walked alongside her friend. Her ma had said both boys were too old for her to hang around with, but they’d always watched out for her and treated her like a sister. Maybe if the boys helped her find Ma, then her mother would allow her to spend more time with them. At least she could hope.

  She followed Ricky back to his house, noting peeling paint and how it leaned to the right. A skinny brown and white hound dog lay with its nose hanging off the end of the rickety porch. She never knew Ricky had a dog. Ricky’s pa was known to drink a lot and spend too much time at the saloon. Suddenly, she realized the sacrifice her friend was making for her by giving up one of his treasures. He didn’t have many nice things in his life.

  She hoped he didn’t get hurt. Hoped they didn’t have to use that gun. Her gaze darted upward at the pale blue sky.

  Please, Lord, help us find my ma. Let her be all right. I’m sorry for not being a very good kid, and I promise to do better—if only You help us find her.

  CHAPTER 32

  Luke stared out over the town, itching to get back out there and look for Rachel. Mark had gone to Polly’s to fetch them some dinner, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Luke hadn’t eaten since yesterday, he’d be out searching right now. Mark had talked him into taking a short break to see if any of the townsfolk had found Rachel.

  They hadn’t.

  Luke’s hand tightened around the porch railing. What was the point of being marshal if he couldn’t protect the woman he loved? Where could she be? Was she injured?

  He knew Rachel would be worried about Jack. His gaze flitted to the boardinghouse. Was the kid at home, or had she gone out somewhere with her friends? He was half afraid those two older boys were going to get her into serious trouble one day. Thankfully, he hadn’t seen much of them since school had ended for the summer.

  “You ready to eat?” Mark walked past the stage office and stopped in front of Luke, carrying two plates of steaming food.

  Luke started to shake his head, thinking he couldn’t eat while Rachel was in danger, but then he caught a whiff of the beef stew and saw the golden corn bread Mark carried. His stomach let him know refusal wasn’t an option. Besides, he needed to keep his strength up so he could keep searching.

  Mark set the plates on Luke’s desk. “What will you do if you don’t find her by dark?”

  Luke poured them both a cup of fresh coffee he’d just brewed. The inside of the jail was sweltering from the stove, but a man couldn’t function without his coffee. “I’ll keep looking.”

  Mark’s blond brows lifted as he buttered his corn bread. “In the dark?”

  Luke shrugged. “I don’t know.” He shoved a bite of stew in his mouth, but it tasted like paper. He shoveled in just enough food to keep him going.

  “Look, you’d help Rachel better by getting some rest and being fresh in the morning. If you’re overly tired, you might miss something.”

  Luke ran his hand across his bristly jaw and shoved the bowl toward the middle of the desk. “I know, but I can’t stand the thought of her being out there, maybe hurt. Maybe alone.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Luke stared intently into his cousin’s eyes. “No, you don’t. I still love her. I want us to have a second chance.”

  Mark’s brow rose nearly to his hairline. “Just when did you figure all that out?”

  Luke fought a shy grin tugging at his mouth and lost the battle. “Last night. I realized I harbored an unforgiving spirit toward her when what happened was my own fault.”

  “How you figure that?” Mark shoved a corner of corn bread into his mouth.

  Luke explained how he was responsible for James’s attack on Rachel. Mark leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “You’re not at fault for what James did.”

  “But I’m the one who sent him to meet her.”

  Mark frowned and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Only James is responsible for what he did.”

  Luke slammed the desk. “No, it’s my fault. I should have gone and met her myself. It would have only taken fifteen or twenty minutes. But no, I had work to do.”

  “You were trying to make money for a home so you and Rachel could get married.”

  Luke leaned his face into his hands. “None of that matters now. I need to get out and search while it’s still daylight.”

  Quick footsteps sounded on the boardwalk, and one of Jack’s friends skidded to a stop at Luke’s door. He stood, and the boy leaned his hands on his thighs, head hanging down, and sucked in air like a suffocating man.

  “What’s going on? Did you find something?”

  The boy held up his hand, chest heaving. “Water.”

  Luke glanced around the office then handed the boy his coffee. The kid took a big gulp and then spewed it out, all over Luke’s floor. “That’s hot! I said water.”

  Mark jumped up, rushed outside to the hitching post where his horse was tied, and yanked the canteen off his saddle. He leaped up the stairs and shoved it at the boy. The kid gulped down several swigs then drew his sleeve across his mouth. Several of the townsfolk who must have seen him running were gathering outside Luke’s office.

  Luke took hold of the boy’s shoulders. “Take several deep breaths.”

  He did as ordered. “I saw a stranger ... at an old shed ... on our property ... two days ago.”

  “So?”

  “Jack told me and Ricky ... about some man taking her ma, and they’ve gone ... to see if she’s there.”

  Luke tensed. If the man who kidnapped Rachel and Miss Blackstone was at that shack with them, Jack and her friend could be in danger. He tightened his grasp. “Where is this shed?”

  “A mile or so past my house. Southwest of town. I can show you.”

  Luke glanced at Mark. “C’mon, this might be the break we’ve been waiting for.”

  Both men grabbed their rifles and followed the boy out the door. The crowd parted and let them pass. Luke touched the kid’s shoulder. “You’re that Jones boy, aren’t you?”

  “Clarence Jones, sir. But most folks just call me Jonesy.”

  Luke nodded and mounted Alamo. “Put your foot in the stirrup, and I’ll pull you up.”

  Jonesy attempted to do as Luke ordered, but the boy was too exhausted to get his foot up high enough. Mark dismounted and boosted Jonesy up behind Luke.

  “You got some news, Marshal?” Dan Howard, the broad-shouldered livery owner asked.

  “Maybe. This boy thinks he knows where a stranger’s been holing up.”

  “You want some of us to come?”

  Luke shook his head. “No, I need y’all to keep searching closer to town. This might be a dead end, and I don’t want all our eggs in one basket.”

  Dan nodded.

  Luke reined Alamo around. “Hold on tight.”

  He kicked his horse, and in seconds, they were on a dead run down Main Street. The boy nearly swerved off as Luke turned Alamo down Bluebonnet Lane and headed out of town, his hope building for the first time that day.

  Please, Lord. Let me find Rachel at that shed. And let her be safe.

  ***

  Rachel felt as if she were falling down a deep well, and she jumped. The tiny cabin came into focus as she awakened. Her mouth was as dry as if she’d been sucking cotton, and her head ached. If only she could have a drink.

  Carly had also fallen asleep. The heat from the cabin had wilted them both like summer flowers in a drought. Occasionally a hot breeze blew through the holes where the window panes once rested, but that did nothing to cool the room. At least the sun was no longer overhead and was making its western plunge toward sunset. Nighttime would bring cooler temperatures, but she dreaded it. How long could
they survive without water?

  She tried to work up enough saliva to dampen her mouth and started sawing again. “Carly. Miss Payton. Wake up.” She kicked the table leg, and it screeched across the floor, making the young woman stir.

  “Did I fall asleep? Oh, ow. My shoulders are killing me.”

  Rachel didn’t voice that hers were, too. “We need to keep working. I don’t know where your brother went or why he’s been gone so long, but we’ve got to get free before he returns.”

  “Maybe he just left us here to die.”

  Rachel shook her head. “Don’t think that—and even if he did, that’s not going to happen.”

  The dullness in Carly’s eyes disappeared all of a sudden, and then she winced. “I’ve nearly sawed through the rope. But I keep cutting my fingers and dropping the glass.”

  “I’m sorry. Just do your best. I’m not having much luck here. I broke off the point on the chair leg, so now there’s nothing sharp to cut my bindings.”

  Carly looked to be sawing with renewed vigor. She worked hard for a few minutes; then she turned her head to face Rachel. Something she’d said earlier was grating on Rachel.

  “Did you tell me that there was a fourth shirt entered in the bride contest?”

  Carly blinked and stared at her. “You mean you didn’t enter it?” Rachel shook her head. “No. I decided that if Luke wasn’t willing to forgive me for how I wronged him in the past, there was no chance he’d want me for a wife, so I didn’t enter the second contest.”

  Carly rocked back and forth. “That’s strange. There was four entries. If you didn’t enter, then who else could’ve? I’m certain that blue shirt was the same one you kept in your drawer.”

  Rachel pursed her lips as the truth dawned. “It was Jacqueline. She argued up one side of the wall and down the other, wanting me to enter that contest. I told her I wouldn’t, so she must have taken the shirt and entered it without anyone knowing.” Rachel shook her head at her wily daughter.

  Carly smiled a sad smile. “The mayor said that’s the one the marshal liked best. I bet you don’t get it back—oh!”

  The young woman’s shoulders heaved violently, and Rachel’s heart jumped. Was the heat getting to her?