The Stagecoach Bride

by Stephannie Beman

  She turned to another trunk and was surprised to see stitching and dollies on one side. She wondered who the dollies belonged to. Maybe his sister when she was younger? At least there were a couple of sewing kits. That took care of her problem if she popped a button. She prayed such a thing would never happen in front of Mic. She’d never survive such an embarrassing ordeal, even if she was wearing a chemise underneath the shirt.

  Her gaze went to another pile of neatly folded material, and she was surprised to discover they were curtains. One was a pretty yellow color and a couple others green. She glanced at the window in the loft and thought the yellow curtains might make the place a bit brighter. She took them out of the trunk and walked over to the window. She couldn’t reach the top, of course, but it gave her an idea of how much nicer the small room was. Who knew a small change could make such a big difference?

  She scooted her trunk over to the window and stood up on it so she could put the curtains in place. When she was done, she stepped back and smiled. There. That was much better. It reminded her a little bit of home. Despite the circumstances that led her to run away from Virginia, a part of her missed it, but she reasoned that had to do more with missing her parents than anything else. And the curtains helped to soothe that lonely part of her life.

  Forcing aside thoughts of her parents, she opened her trunk, found some pins and put her hair up, something she should have done earlier but hadn’t because she’d been so caught up in everything that was happening. Her hands still shook a bit from what happened with Jeremiah, but she told herself he hadn’t succeeded and that counted for something. Releasing her breath, she slammed her trunk shut and did the same with the others.

  From below, she could smell the enticing aroma of turkey. Her mouth watered in anticipation. Mic could rival the cook her parents hired. She didn’t know it was possible for a man to do so well in the kitchen. Turning her attention to the bed, she put on the rest of the clothes he’d given her to wear, relieved the vest wasn’t as tight as the shirt.

  She headed down the stairs and saw that Mic was setting the table. Uncertain of how to approach him, she paused for a moment. Something was changing between them. She could feel it. She wasn’t exactly sure what it meant, except she had a harder time knowing what to say because it wasn’t easy to concentrate when he was near.

  Taking a deep breath to help settle her nerves, she walked over to the table and offered a tentative smile. “The food smells great.”

  He turned to her with a smile that faltered the moment he laid eyes on her. He swallowed several times before he managed a, “I hope it tastes as good.”

  She frowned, curious about his faltering smile. “I’m sure it will. Everything you cook tastes good.” And for all she knew, he could probably even make a dove taste like a good meal, though she’d still rather not try it. She glanced around the cabin. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Have a seat and dig in. I’ll grab some water and be back.”

  She sat down and watched as he picked up the pail and left, taking the opportunity to study his solid, broad frame. It was probably easy for him to ward off any attackers. He was built for defending himself. She could only hope that she wouldn’t disappoint him when he began teaching her what she needed to know. She wasn’t exactly sure what he planned to do, but she’d follow his instructions and maybe in time, she’d be able to ward off someone like Jeremiah. With a slight shiver, she forced the incident at the stream from her mind. She didn’t want to dwell on it. She didn’t want to believe the worst in people either, but she didn’t know if she’d ever believe in the best anymore. Not after everything that happened.

  Mic returned with the water and poured it into their cups. He sat across from her and motioned to her plate. “I thought you would have started eating by now.”

  Her face warmed as she picked up a fork. “Sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Guess you were just being polite and waiting till I got back, but in the future, it’s alright if you just dig in.”

  She nodded and took one bite of the delicious turkey when the door opened. Her fork stopped halfway to her mouth when she saw Jeremiah in the doorway, shaking his bear-like head.

  “Whatcha do to me, Mic?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

  She gripped her fork and glanced at Mic, wondering if he’d try to kill the man again, something she hoped for and dreaded at the same time.

  To her surprise, Mic laughed. “Hit your ugly face a few times with my fists.”

  Jeremiah looked at them, blinking several times. “Why’d you go and do a fool thing like that?”

  “For insulting the lady.”

  Jeremiah turned his attention toward her and squinted, looking her up and down, an action which made her inwardly shiver. “Another one? Do I have to be the pin cushion again?”

  Mic grinned at her, but she failed to understand what was so funny. “Afraid so, Jere. It’s what you get for being an idiot.”

  Jeremiah pushed away from the doorframe and lurched into the room. “Then I better eat before my funeral.” He looked at Lillian again. “Ma’am, sorry for my boorish behavior.”

  Lillian glanced from Mic to Jeremiah. It took a full moment before she was able to overcome her shock. Looking back at Mic, she asked, “What’s going on here? That man just attacked me, and you’re acting as if this whole thing is amusing?” He sure hadn’t seemed amused when he was punching Jeremiah or spouting off about how she needed to protect herself while they were in the loft. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Jere’s an idiot and a little too friendly for his own good. However,” he glared at Jeremiah, “if he does it again, I will kill him.”

  Jeremiah laughed. “And I believe you.” He looked at Lillian. “I collect the skins for Mic and sell them in town. I’m just glad you didn’t try to gut me like Abby did.” He lifted his shirt and showed her the wicked scar on his stomach and fresh wound on his arm.

  “Is this supposed to be amusing because I don’t think it is,” she snapped. “I nearly had my innocence stolen from me, and you two are acting as if it’s something that’s alright.”

  “It’s not alright,” Mic said. “It might seem strange to you, but I know Jere wouldn’t have taken more from you than a kiss. He won’t soon forget the result of his actions either. ”

  “If that’s true, then why were you ready to kill him?” she demanded, still not seeing that this was right.

  Mic’s jaw hardened and he looked away, telling her that there was more to this than he was letting on.

  “Because you are his woman,” Jeremiah said as if that explained everything.

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” she told Jeremiah, wondering if she should slap him for acting as if all he was really going to do was kiss her. She didn’t believe that one for a minute. A man who just wanted a kiss would have had the decency to ask if he could kiss her. A man who wanted more took what he wanted and forced the poor, unsuspecting woman to the ground. “Mic did what he would have done for his mom, sister, and sister-in-law. A man doesn’t get so upset by a kiss that he’s willing to beat a man within an inch of his life. I have a mind to grab a skillet and knock some sense into both of you for putting me through this ordeal. You,” she pointed to Jeremiah, “for touching me when you had no right, and you,” she pointed to Mic, “for acting as if something was wrong with me because I didn’t take a knife and slash your friend’s throat.”

  The two men looked at each other. “We aren’t friends, Uzizitka,” Mic said.

  She frowned, even more confused. “Then what is he to you?”

  “A business partner that needs a lesson in how to treat women.”

  Jeremiah laughed. “I knew his father which is the only reason he hasn’t stabbed me yet.”

  “Wonderful,” she replied, still not amused. “So that gives you the right to touch me with your grimy hands and try to kiss me with your slippery tongue?”

  “You can use that
disgust and take your revenge out on him and he’ll take it,” Mic said.

  She grunted then glared at him. “I ought to take my revenge out on you, too, while I’m at it. The way you treated me… As if I should be shoved on out of here because I didn’t know how to use a knife. I don’t think I care for either one of you at the moment. ”

  “Is that what you thought I was doing? Trying to get rid of you because you can’t use a knife?”

  Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled how humiliated she’d felt in the loft. “Of course, I did. What else could I think? You were giving me a lecture on how I needed to buck up and use a knife if I wanted to stay out here. Otherwise, I better hightail my weak self on out and find somewhere else to be, but that wouldn’t make a difference either because I’m as good as dead no matter what I do.”

  “Oh, Uzizitka, it’s not the knife I wanted you to learn. It was to get away from situations like the one you found yourself in with Jeremiah. Like you did the day we met. What if I had been another type of man? Then what would you have done? As for leaving, I don’t want you leave, but I’m not going to keep you here against your will. I don’t want a cikala wiwayaka, a prisoner. I don’t want you to feel trapped. I want you to want to stay. And if you don’t, then I don’t want to get any more attached to you than I already am. If you want to take a strip off my hide for how I treated you, I won’t stop you, Uzizitka.”

  “You want me here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  Her grip on the fork loosened and she relaxed. “Not really. Sometimes I think you’d be alright if I stayed, but then there are times when it doesn’t seem that way, like when you suggest I’m not suited for this life. I might not have grown up on a ranch, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do what I need to do. I might be afraid,” she glanced at Jeremiah, “and unsure of what I can do. I just need time to learn, that’s all.” If she could figure a way out of the marriage Albert had arranged for her, then she could figure out other things too. “I’m smart. I can do anything I put my mind to.”

  Mic grinned. “Smart and hardworking, I think you will be well-suited for this life if you enjoy it. I didn’t think you wanted to stay though, just wanted a place to hide.”

  “It started out that way, but it’s not that way now.” She glanced at Jeremiah who stood there, just watching the whole exchange. “I’m not comfortable with him coming by, though. If he tries to lay a hand on me again, I’ll use a skillet on him.”

  Jeremiah grinned and nodded his head. “I’m more afraid of what Mic will do after that beating. I don’t think he reacted that way when I kissed Abby.”

  Mic glared at him. “She nearly gutted you for your trouble.”

  “And Jane—”

  “She almost put a bullet in your back.” Mic glanced at Lillian. “Uzizitka will put a dent in that head of yours. Might just knock some sense into you. ”

  Appalled at hearing about Abby and Jane, her eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe I should have let Mic kill you. You’re no gentleman.”

  Jeremiah sat. He pulled a piece of turkey off the carcass and then take a bite out of it. “Never claimed to be. Father was a gentleman though. He kept three mistresses, beat my mother something fierce, and stole from everyone he came into contact with. Never had much use for men like him. ”

  She gasped and slapped the turkey out of his hand. “You have no right to be here with me. No right at all. I’ll have you know that I am a lady, and I will not be subjected to the likes of you. I demand you leave at once. Just because you insist on acting like a savage, it doesn’t mean I have to be privy to it.”

  She pointed to the door. Never in her life had anyone said such things in her presence. Even Albert and Robert for all their faults had the common sense to hold their tongue when she was around.

  Jeremiah looked her up and down. “Lady? Oh, my aching head. No lady would be caught wearing men’s clothes. They would have fainted at the sight of me, not kicked and tried to pull out my hair. And no lady would stay here alone with Mic, knowing that a common whore once resided here.”

  Mic stood. “I helped a friend out of a terrible situation. I never touched her in any way that was inappropriate.”

  “She was a whore. What would be considered inappropriate?”

  Mic’s hands curled into fists. “The lady told you to leave and I think it’s best that you do.”

  It took Lillian a moment to remember where she’d heard Jane’s name before. That was Wade’s wife. The one who died. “That’s a horrible thing to say, Jeremiah,” she said, rising to her feet. “Jane was Wade’s wife, and worse, she’s no longer alive. You’d do well to be respectful of the dead.” She shook her head. “I’ve never been so angry with anyone in my life, and considering what I’ve been through, that’s saying something. As for my clothes, it seems to me the only thing a skirt is good for around you is to get up under. I’m a lot safer in a pair of pants. You get on out of here before I do something you will really consider unladylike.”

  Jeremiah frowned. “Jane’s dead?” He looked between Lillian and Mic. “When? What happened?”

  “What do you care?” Lillian demanded. Why didn’t the big oaf leave already? He served no other purpose than to annoy her.

  Jeremiah rose from the table. “What happened to Jane, Mic?”

  “Now, Jeremiah, calm down,” Mic said, backing away from the giant.

  Jeremiah stalked toward Mic. “How?” he roared.

  Lillian’s heart stopped in her throat, startled by the sudden turn of events. “Don’t you hurt him, Jeremiah. I swear I’ll hit you with a skillet if you do.”

  “It was a few months ago,” Mic said. “During the night the ranch was raided. She was killed.”

  “Who hurt Jane?” Jeremiah ordered.

  “It won’t bring her back. I know you liked her—”

  “She was nice to me, to everyone. Who would hurt her?”

  Jeremiah looked ready to cry. What was going on here? Lillian couldn’t begin to understand Jeremiah or why Mic would tolerate the oaf.

  “Who hurt her, Mic?”

  Mic shook his head. “Let it rest for now. His time is comin’.”

  Though Lillian wanted to ask who Mic was talking about, she didn’t dare interfere with this tense moment. It didn’t seem like Jeremiah was going to hurt Mic. She was shocked that Jeremiah was even capable of crying, let alone expressing concern for anyone.

  “I’ll hold you to that, Michaiah.” Jeremiah turned and left.

  Mic blew out a breath. “If I was a drinking man, I’d need a drink.”

  She waited for a moment before she took her gaze off the door and turned her attention to him. “What was all that about?”

  He sat on the bench. “How to explain Jeremiah? Think of a worldly child in a giant’s body, stalking around and saying whatever comes to mind. He has social graces but never uses them because it annoys people. Show an ounce of weakness and he’ll pick at it. He respects strength. Being called a whore never bothered Jane. She always said it was what she’d once been, but when Jere insulted Wade one day, Jane took the gun and nearly put a bullet in his back. He loved that woman ever since. I’d say he’d have done anything for her. And I’m afraid he’ll kill anyone he sees as being involved in her death.”

  She returned to her seat. “Who was involved in her death?”

  He turned his gaze in her direction and said, “I was.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “W-what?” Lillian asked, eyes wide.

  “It’s my fault she’s dead,” Mic replied. “If... Our father always told us that if we took care of the land, it would take care of us. That without land, we were nothing. He was wrong and an innocent woman paid the price for my ignorance.”

  She shook her head and rubbed her forehead. “I don’t understand. What does taking care of the land have to do with killing her?”

  “She died for a piece of land and few stray cows.” He finally looked at her. “She died because I wouldn’t back down
. Because I thought land and money was the most important thing. And I was wrong. ”

  “So you didn’t actually kill her?”

  He stood and walked to the window, needing to see life moving onward. “I wasn’t there, Lillian. I left her alone and they came for Wade and for me. They found her and what they did to her... Let’s just say I hope there is a special place in Hell for them. So no, I didn’t hurt her so badly she couldn’t escape a burning building. But my decisions ultimately led to her death.”

  She hugged herself and softly asked, “When you told me about rustlers and having to watch the cattle and land, that’s what you meant? A human threat, not one from an animal?”

  “Yes.”

  “And when you said I should learn to protect myself, you meant from a human threat? Not just Jeremiah but other men. Men who’d come here for land and animals but take advantage of a lady if they happen to see her?”

  “Yes.”

  She nodded. “I understand. You’re right. It’s not like the city where I grew up. Back there people manipulate and deceive, but it’s different. No one needs knives or guns for protection.” Taking a shaky breath, she closed her eyes. “I have no choice. I have to learn to use knives and guns then. I can’t go back. I’ll be forced to marry a cruel man if I do.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Well, I would be forced to marry him if I don’t end up in jail, though I suspect he would buy me out of it.”

  “Money buys lots of things and corruption can be found everywhere. I’ve been back East. Men are no different than they are here. They cheat and lie and kill for what they want. The rich are just more diplomatic about it.” He turned toward her and smiled. “I think we’ll start by teaching you to use that skillet you are so fond of.”