The Stagecoach Bride

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The Stagecoach Bride Page 9

by Stephannie Beman


  From this moment forward, she’d stop worrying about the future and live in the present. Feeling better than she had in a long time, she squeezed Mic’s hand, blushing when she noticed the way he grinned at her. As they continued down the path, he continued telling her about his ranch.

  Chapter Ten

  After he put the turkey in the oven and potatoes and carrots in the pot on the stove, Mic rode away from the cabin with a grin on his face. Lillian had worked hard beside him all morning to cut vegetables for lunch and then out in the barn to feed Noah’s critters the scraps and some grain.

  Despite her fright when the squirrel had scampered up her skirts, Lillian had taken Noah’s menagerie of orphaned critters well. There were the normal pigs, goats, calves, and lambs among the not-so-common magpies, squirrels, beavers, an albino weasel, a goose, and a fawn.

  The work moved quickly and Mic was sure it had more to do with the mouse who’d joined the animals at the feed trough than Lillian’s urgency to finish the moccasins they’d started last night. She’d amazed him with her tenacity to learn and accomplish the task she had set for herself. And truth be known, she was rather good at it.

  While a little uneven, her stitches were tight and precise. She would have a serviceable pair of moccasins by the end of the week. Although where she would find the occasion to wear them after she left this place, he didn’t know.

  The thought of her leaving disturbed him. He was growing rather fond of her and her constant need to ask questions. He enjoyed her company, her long silences as well as her conversation.

  The third snare was sprung. Mic slid from Jimmy Boy’s back. A small cottontail rabbit was caught by the head in the snare, his paw the only thing keeping it from being a clean kill. A mere slice of his knife finished the job. Cleaning the carcass quickly and efficiently, something he’d refrained from doing with Lillian yesterday, he packed it away, thinking it would make a lovely and warm pair of winter moccasins for Lillian.

  He shook his head at such foolish thoughts and mounted Jimmy Boy. Lillian would never stay. This life wasn’t for her. It was hard and merciless. She was meant for the big city with parties every night or whatever it was they did. That was the life she’d come from and that was the life she was heading to when she left.

  The plan to use her against Charles had been bound to fail. He could see that now. First, there was no way he could hand a woman over to Charles. Innocent or not, no one deserved what Charles would do. Second, Charles held all the aces. He had the law on his side. The townsfolk would never turn their backs on him. He had men at his disposal willing to do the dirty work. Mic was bound to lose against the likes of Charles Gray as long as he played Charles’ game by the rules. Maybe it was time for Mic to change the game by stooping to Charles’ level.

  The next snare afforded another rabbit and the image of Lillian in one of those split-leather riding skirts, a buffalo coat, winter moccasins, and a rabbit-skinned muff flashed through his mind’s eye. She would look magnificent.

  He hurried on, trying to tell himself that he didn’t want the meal to burn, but the truth was he feared for Lillian, even if she alone for just an hour. Who knew what trouble she could get into?

  Rounding the bend toward home, he found a beaver in the lakeside snare, a couple of trout in the river net, and a pheasant in the last snare. He was mere seconds from the cabin when an earsplitting shriek echoed through the forest. He kicked Jimmy Boy into a run, and the mustang responded instantly, leaping over a fallen log and tearing through the brush.

  Lillian wasn’t on the bench in front of the house where he’d left her. Halting Jimmy Boy, he listened for the sounds of a struggle, following them around the house toward the river.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Give me a kiss,” a man’s voice soothed.

  Lillian came into view, twisting and thrashing in the arms of a giant. “I’d rather kiss a frog, you overgrown brute.” Her foot kicked his shin. Her knee glanced off his thigh. Her hands were tangled in his oily, dark hair, pulling hard. “Unhand me. I am a lady, not a common whore!”

  Overpowering fury surged through Mic and he swiftly crossed the area, knife tearing into the leather-clad arm, drawing blood. The man released Lillian with a shout and Mic yanked her from the air, shoving her behind him with a snarl.

  Jeremiah turned with a bellow and a vapor of whiskey breath strong enough to knock Mic out. He charged and Mic waited until the last possible moment to sidestep, sweeping Lillian with him. He slammed his fist into Jeremiah’s jaw, but the force wasn’t enough to knock out the large man. Jeremiah outweighed him by a hundred pounds or more.

  He shook his head as if clearing his vision. “Come on, Mic. Didn’t think you’d mind sharing your doxie with a frie—”

  Mic leapt, fists flying, the force driving Jeremiah back. Lillian was a lady! Abby was a lady. Even Jane, despite her colored past, had been a lady. When would the idiot get it through his thick skull that they deserved respect?

  Jeremiah danced out of reach, hands out in surrender. “I promise not to touch your whore again.”

  Mic growled, aware the sound coming from his throat didn’t sound human. “You touch her or call her a whore again and I’ll let the scavengers clean up what’s left of you.”

  Jeremiah shook his scraggly head, looking like a bear. “You always were touchy when it came to your women.”

  Mic’s vision turned red and he leapt at Jeremiah. They crashed to the ground, his fist pounding into Jeremiah’s grinning face.

  Jeremiah struck Mic in return, sending him flying backward. “Abby was always such a sweet thing, whatever happened to that beauty?”

  Mic rose. He knew Jeremiah was taunting him and that rising to the bait would only make his position stronger. But he was talking about his baby sister and it couldn’t be tolerated. “Abby would sooner slice you with her knives than let you lay a hand on her. I should know. I taught her how to use them against scum who’d take advantage of her. ”

  They circled around each other, seeking a weakness, a blind spot.

  “You can’t tell me Jane was your sister too,” Jeremiah retorted. “She stayed with you. You can’t tell me you never touched her. ”

  Mic lunged right and then left, his fists hitting Jeremiah’s jaw. It popped under the force. “I never touched her!” He hit him again. “She was a friend!” He hit him again and again. “She needed protection!”

  His fists kept hitting him, long after Jeremiah stopped fighting. Over and over again. All the fury channeling through his fists. All the rage pouring out of him.

  Lillian rushed forward. “Mic, stop. You’re going to kill him!”

  His arm hesitated, ready for another blow. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

  Lillian wrapped her hand around his fist and lowered it. “Because you’re better than this. You’re not a murderer. You’re a good man. ”

  “A good man? Does a good man become an outlaw? Or kidnap innocent women and hold them for ransom? Or hate so much that killing another would be a relief? Is that a good man, Lillian?”

  “A good man does what he has to. I admit that I don’t know your past. I don’t know what happened to make you do the things you’ve done, but you haven’t hurt me. You’ve had plenty of chances but chose not to. There are others,” she glared at Jeremiah, “who would have done what he just tried to do and worse. But you’re not like that. I don’t know what the best thing is to do with him, but there has to be something other than killing him.”

  Mic nudged Jeremiah with his foot and the huge giant groaned. He’d be unconscious for a little while, which was good for him because right now, Mic wanted to beat on him some more.

  He turned to Lillian. Looking her over, touching her face gently, looking for any marks on her face. He didn’t think Jeremiah would hurt a woman for denying him. Charles would have, but not Jeremiah. The lout was an idiot, especially when drunk. “Are you hurt?”

  She hugged her body, shaking her head. “No, I’m fine,
” she said, her voice quivering. “Just shaken up. You came before he could do anything.”

  He hugged her to him, his body trembling with the rage and fear beating through his heart. He held her as if she was his lifeline in a frozen river and if he let her go, he’d drown. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. You could have been hurt and it would have been my fault. ”

  “You didn’t know. No one’s been here since Wade and Noah left. Who was to know that he’d show up?”

  He shook his head. “I should know better. Someone always comes. ”

  “Really? Who? How?”

  He chuckled. Lillian and her questions. If she ever stopped asking them, he’d know she was hurt. “We’re secluded, but people do know where to find me. Didn’t people ever come to your home, Lillian? Maybe for a visit? To take what they wanted?” he asked, searching her face, trying to divine her fears. “People always come. Some mean no harm. Others do mean to harm. It’s how life is. It’s just more honest here than in the cities. ”

  “Coming for a visit is different from coming with the intent to hurt. Are there other men living out here that will try to rape me?”

  “Are there men in this world who like to rape women? Yes. Do you think they’re limited to the wilds of the West? They aren’t.” He stared down at her, wanting her to understand. “And there are some women who are no better.”

  “Well, that’s just great.” She stepped away from him, her face taking on an uncharacteristically hard look to it. “So you’re telling me that you brought me out here so men could find me and hurt me? I thought this was a safe place. Thank you for correcting me. Maybe I’ll just run off into the woods and let one of the bears or cougars or some other animal get me. At least those beasts are more civilized.” She lifted her skirt and headed back to the cabin.

  “You can spend your life being a victim, Lillian.” He followed her. “Or you can do what you can to defend yourself and those you love.”

  “Such words of encouragement when you just told me I’m going to be hurt no matter what I do.” She spun around, hands clenched. “I don’t want to hear it anymore. I didn’t come this far just to find out I’ve gotten myself into another trap. I’m tired of everyone using me for their advantage. If there’s no hope for me, then I think I’ll be better off going to town and turning myself in. No matter where I go, I’m a prisoner anyway. ” Wiping the tears from her eyes, she turned and ran to the cabin.

  Sighing, Mic followed her. This conversation with Lillian wasn’t over. Opening the door, he stalked into the room, looking around at the empty living area then heading for the stairs. Climbing up into the loft, he found Lillian crying on his bed. He walked across the room to her, drawing his knife. Grabbing her wrist he laid the hilt in her hand. “I taught Abby to defend herself. I can teach you too. ”

  She threw the knife across the room. “What good is it going to do? Jeremiah would have had that out of my hand long before I could use it. ” She turned on her side, her back to him.

  “Think with your head, Lillian. Civilized society would have you believe that women are weak. That they need a man to protect them. But we both know that the world isn’t that way. Sometimes women need to use the brains God gave them to outsmart a man.” He gently lifted her from the bed and sat her down. “I’ve seen you fight. If you had that knife in your hand, you could have gutted Jeremiah. ”

  She pushed against him. “Just leave me alone. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of fighting. All I’ve done since my parents died is run and fight. And where did it get me? Hiding as an outlaw where I’m almost raped? I’m tired.” She burst out into more tears and sobbed into her hands. “I’m just too tired to keep going.”

  “Then stop fighting. Stop running. Just let the world take your life from you. Be the victim they all hope you are.” Mic brushed the tears from her face. “Maybe you can be like Wade, wishing for death, hoping it takes you away, letting it eat at your soul until you’re bitter and angry at the world. Maybe I should’ve left you alone. You could be married to the most God-awful man that’s ever walked this earth. Maybe I can take you to town. You can turn yourself in and hope that the men you’re running from don’t find you. Or maybe you can stay here with me, my Uzizitka. ”

  She sniffed and wiped more tears away. “I feel like such a fool. I actually believed that there were people out there who believed in honesty, decency, and respectability. When my parents died, I had no idea the best was behind me. ”

  “Parents are good at shielding us from the realities of this world,” Mic said, remembering his own mother’s need to protect her children. “And I don’t want you to be anyone you’re not. I never asked you to be anyone else except you. I’m sorry if you think I was. I just...I just wanted to help, to make up for everything that’s happened.” He stood. “I liked the person you were being these last couple days. Maybe that means something and maybe it doesn’t. But if that person was who you thought I expected you to be, you can stop pretending.” He turned and walked away.

  “I never pretended to be something I wasn’t.”

  Mic glanced at her. “Then what do you want to do?”

  She swallowed and took a deep breath. “I want to be safe. I want people to let me live my life in peace. I just want to be left alone so I don’t have to worry anymore.”

  “Do you want to leave, Lillian?”

  She lowered her gaze and studied the knife that was across the floor. “No,” she softly said.

  “Do you want to stay?”

  She looked at him. “Do I have to learn to use a knife if I do?”

  He shook his head. “Forget the knife for the moment. Do you want to stay?”

  Lowering her gaze again, she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.

  He walked over to her and knelt at her feet. Taking her chilled hands in his, he said, “I don’t want you to learn to use the knife to hurt people. I want to give you a chance to defend yourself, to keep yourself safe against anyone who would hurt you. I want to give you power over your life.” He kissed her hand and rose. “But, only if and when you’re ready.”

  “I don’t think I can do it. I don’t know the first thing about defending myself against a physical attack.”

  “It’s not about brawn. It’s about thinking smarter. Outwitting your attacker and surprising them. How did Jeremiah get a hold of you?”

  “He came up behind me. I didn’t even hear him. All of the sudden, he had his arms around me. ”

  “Were your arms free? Did you struggle?”

  “I was gathering some water in a pail. I was leaning into the stream and almost fell in but he pulled me back. From there, it’s a blur. I remember screaming and fighting to get away from him, but the only thing I clearly remember is when you pulled him away from me. ”

  Mic smiled reassuringly. “Jane once told Abby that men are idiots when it comes to a sweet smile and batting eyelashes. Sometimes physically fighting isn’t the answer. Sometimes it’s the sweet smile and batting lashes. It takes a man’s guard down. Once his guard is down, there are several ways to incapacitate him without killing. An elbow in the side, poking your fingers in their eyes, raking your boot down their leg, or kicking them in the groin.”

  She blanched. “Kicking them…down there?”

  He nodded, wincing. “Now it’s not one I’ve had done on me, but it hurts and it will give you a chance to run and hide. If I’m anywhere nearby, I’ll take care of the rest. If not, try to keep yourself out of their reach.”

  She released her breath. “Alright. I’ll do what I can. Will you help me learn what I need to do?”

  He nodded. “I promised to keep you safe. I can teach you to defend yourself and get away. To run so others cannot track you. To hide so they cannot find you.”

  She clasped her hands together and squeezed them. She looked terrified and he didn’t blame her. Her world was an uncertain place and had been for a very long time if he had to guess. “I’ll try to be a quick learner.”

 
“First we need to disguise you.” He walked to one of the trunks in the corner. “Abby should have some things that will make it easier.” He opened the lid and pulled out a man’s shirt, vest, pants, chaps, and duster. Laying them on the bed beside her, he added a belt with a knife sheath and an old pair of moccasins. “Get dressed in these, then come and eat. Your first lesson begins after the meal.”

  She cleared her throat. “Alright. I’ll put them on.”

  “Get rid of the corset. It hinders movement. But you can keep your drawers and undershirt on.”

  Her cheeks grew pink but she nodded.

  He patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I had a sister-in-law, a mother, and I have a sister. Seeing a woman in men’s clothes is nothing new.”

  It would, however, be distracting as hell. Because she wasn’t his mother, sister-in-law, or his sister. She was a woman he was finding very distracting. Even when Jane had lived in the same house as the rest of them, he never once had thoughts about her like he was having about Lillian Christian.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lillian didn’t know if she liked wearing men’s clothing or not. The pants hugged her legs in a way she wasn’t used to. It didn’t feel bad, exactly, but it did make her uncomfortable. She was used to the freedom a skirt allowed her. However, she’d admit that the pants were less likely to wrap around her legs or trip her. They wouldn’t snag on bushes like the skirt had. But she couldn’t say they were comfortable.

  But that was nothing compared to the shirt. Try as she might, the fabric stretched where her breasts were, and she worried she might pop one of the buttons. While she was acquainted with sewing a button if she needed to, it’d be embarrassing to ask Mic where he had a needle and thread, or even if he had any.

  Curious, she turned to the trunks lining the walls and examined their contents. Most of them had clothing, some of it lovely even if the skirts and shirtwaists were simpler than the ones she was used to. They looked more comfortable, and that was something of a relief. Mic’s mother’s clothing had been easier to walk in, though she did have a small blister on her heel from wearing the boots. She hoped the moccasins would prevent more of that from happening.

 

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