Hearts Entwined: A Historical Romance Novella Collection

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Hearts Entwined: A Historical Romance Novella Collection Page 23

by Karen Witemeyer


  “You can’t go,” Ambrosia said. “They tried to kill you before.”

  “Fort Reno is southwest of here. Maybe you’ll come across some troopers if you head that way.”

  Bradley’s throat jogged as he looked at her. Was he really going? Would this be the last time she saw him? No. Not like this. Not this sudden. It wasn’t fair.

  “You’ve made a tactical error,” her father said.

  “Bringing you here, or not coming with more men?” Bradley asked.

  “Not trusting my camels. How far is it to the fort?”

  Bradley squinted. “Forty miles or so.”

  Her father stared at the western horizon. “They have an angle on us, but we’ll give them a race they won’t forget. Unload the pack animals and set them free to follow. We’ll all lighten our loads and get there early morning.”

  “Not Ambrosia,” Bradley said. “You stay and protect her—”

  “Private Willis. We are not every man for himself, neither are we offering up sacrificial lambs. Sometimes bravery involves staying at your post and guarding those who are supposed to be guarded, instead of hightailing it out at the first sign of danger.”

  “Pardon me, sir, but I am not running from a fight. I’m running toward it.”

  “And leaving your comrades unprotected. We will stay together. Between the three of us and our superior mounts, we should be able to outmaneuver the enemy.”

  Ambrosia looked at Melda and Omar, drowsily blinking in the hot sun. She wasn’t ready to risk her future with Bradley on the backs of these dromedaries, but it didn’t look like they had a choice.

  It didn’t matter how noble Captain Herald tried to make it sound, what he was asking of Bradley amounted to cowardice. Just because the captain didn’t want to rush into the open guns of the Gunther gang didn’t mean that Bradley wasn’t willing.

  Anything to keep them away from Ambrosia.

  And if it didn’t work, well, Bradley would rather go down fighting tooth and nail and give her a chance than be at her side facing a bleak end. His shoulders felt heavier than the crates he was tossing off the pack animals. He could face his own death, but not hers.

  He quickly untethered the camels from each other. Captain Herald was unburdening Melda, Ruby, and Omar of excess weight while Ambrosia filled their canteens one last time before leaving the barrels of water behind.

  The Gunthers were still hours from catching them, but they weren’t dissuaded. Bradley could only imagine what they thought of the camels. They probably thought the three travelers were sitting ducks without horses. Maybe they were.

  “Better get going.” Bradley went to give Ambrosia a hand up onto her camel. She looked scared but determined.

  “Just remember,” she said, “I came back for you when you were stuck in that quicksand. I didn’t leave you to face it alone.”

  “That’s right, Ambrosia. And we’ll make it through this together, too.” He tried to smile.

  She settled in as he ran to Melda. Captain Herald gave the order for them to rise. Ruby shook her shoulders, appreciating her lighter load, and Omar let out a bellow as if he’d sensed their urgency.

  “Just hold on,” Captain Herald said, “and give them full rein to go at their own pace.”

  He urged Omar into motion, and before they could settle into their walk, he dug his heels in and pushed him faster. Omar stepped it up again and was soon loping in long, swaying strides. Without any prompting, Melda and Ruby joined in, with the younger camels kicking up their heels as they followed.

  It was smoother than a trot, and when Bradley looked down, he couldn’t believe how quickly the ground was passing beneath them. He looked to the north. They’d still be within firing range before sunset if the Gunthers didn’t give up. Their only hope was to encounter some troopers. What he wouldn’t give to see Lieutenant Hennessey about now. Or even Major Adams.

  Pete Gunther knew Bradley was cavalry and knew where they’d be headed. The gang would probably try to cut them off. If the outlaws got in front of them, it’d be gun against gun. Bradley desperately thought through the terrain between them and the fort. Although he’d never favored building a defense, he’d rather have some time to prepare than meet the Gunthers in the open. Where could they make a stand? Nearby were the Canadian River and a few creeks. At least there were trees there, but nothing that could be considered much cover.

  Better to stay in the saddle and try to outrun them.

  As time passed, Bradley grew more confident. The camels, although huffing, didn’t seem to be in any distress, while the horses had to be pushing with all their strength. Finally, the horses began to lag, even though the camels continued their trot. Captain Herald had been right. There was no way the horses could keep up this pace cross-country. The sun had disappeared, and the riders were getting harder to see in the fading light. Finally, they disappeared altogether into a dip on the plain.

  “Where’d they go?” Ambrosia asked.

  Bradley scanned the lay of the land. “There’s a creek out there.”

  “Their horses have to stop for water,” Herald said. “That’s another advantage we have.”

  “How are you doing?” Bradley asked Ambrosia.

  She held up her hands. With an effort, she unclenched her fingers. They were shaking. “I’ve been better,” she said.

  “They’ve been running at full capacity,” Captain Herald said. “We still have reserves. By morning light, we’ll have them beat easily. Let’s eat quickly, rest lightly, then set out at dawn.”

  Bradley looked over the prairie. They were still too far away from the fort, but so was the Gunther gang. After riding that hard all day, their mounts wouldn’t have the stamina to confront them now. Bunking down for the night went against his instincts, but logic told him it would be safe.

  Find a low place and get something at their backs. That was Bradley’s number one most dreaded position in which to meet a foe, but he was doing the right thing.

  That was what he had to tell himself, at least.

  Chapter

  10

  She hadn’t slept well since they’d left Texas. Why did she imagine that this night would be any different? She heard a gurgle from Omar and rolled over, feeling each one of the hard, red lumps of clay against her back and wishing for her nice mattress that they’d left behind.

  Omar was babbling again. Was he talking in his sleep? Usually he only talked to her father. Someone must be over there. Ambrosia sat up and looked around. Supper had been some of her apples and jerky that Bradley had traded for at the Lighthorse lodge, so she was already hungry again. She reached for her knapsack, hoping there was something left, but by the moonlight she noticed that her father was gone. Afraid of what she’d find, she sped toward the camels.

  “You should be resting,” her father said. With his knees pulled up to his chest, he was leaning against Omar and watching the sleeping prairie.

  She sat next to him. All year she’d feared that he wouldn’t be with them much longer. Now he was healthy again and in more danger than ever.

  “I’m sorry I fought you over the camels,” she said. “I didn’t realize how much they meant to you.”

  He wrapped his arm around her. “It was foolish of me. In my mind, Omar, Ruby, and Esmeralda were still wandering in that desert with Beale, Echols, and Hartz, and needed me to save them. I have the camels now, but that doesn’t bring those men back. We don’t always get a second chance.”

  She snuggled up against him. “But in a way, you do have a second chance. Mother and I thought you’d given up on life this summer, but this trip has revived you. If you come home ready to get back in the saddle, then saving these camels did bring back a person we love. You.”

  “Do you think your mother will learn to love the camels, too?”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. Especially if you pen them in her garden.”

  He sighed. “Then I’ll have to find someplace else. Or even sell them. As long as we find someone w
ho understands them and keeps them out of the cold, I’m satisfied.” He grunted. “Here I’m worrying over these animals, when I still have to bring you home safely.”

  “We can ask God for His help, too.”

  “I am, honey. Believe me, I am.”

  A rustling made them both turn around. It was Bradley. Seeing it was just them, he let out a long breath. “You had me concerned.”

  Her father got to his feet. “If we’re all up, we might as well hit the trail.”

  Omar shared his opinion in the form of an extended belch.

  What would this day bring? The safety of Fort Reno, or death at the hands of outlaws? Ambrosia had been looking for adventure. After this, she’d never be satisfied swinging a sword around a library again.

  Bradley took her hand and accompanied her to Ruby. “Ambrosia, before we go, I just have to say that meeting you on this trip made it all worth it, no matter how it ends.”

  Her hand tightened in his. “I didn’t find you just to lose you this easily. We’re going to fight for this.” It was hard to be romantic with Ruby pulling at her skirt with those rubbery, clownish lips.

  “It’s worth fighting for,” he said. Then, with a sweet kiss on her cheek—he had promised her father, after all—he handed her up into the saddle.

  The camels made striking silhouettes in the dim light, but it wouldn’t be dark for long. The scissortails had begun swooping around, and the moon was far in the west.

  But by the time the sky lit, a row of horsemen had appeared on a ridge, standing between them and Fort Reno.

  “I don’t understand.” Ambrosia pulled Ruby to a stop. Her throat went tight. “How did they get in front of us?”

  “It’s impossible.” Bradley looked murderously angry. No longer worried or fearful, just angry.

  Her father was, as well. He hated being wrong, especially about his camels.

  One of the men raised his pistol above his head. A gunshot echoed across the prairie. To Ambrosia’s surprise, the camels didn’t flinch. They nosed each other, still saying good morning just like they did every day.

  “Private Willis,” one of the horsemen called from afar, now that he had their attention. “You’re outnumbered and practically afoot. Give up now.”

  Bradley turned to her father. “I could. I would, but I don’t trust them to keep their word and let you and your daughter go. Still, if you want me to—”

  “They aren’t going to let two witnesses go when they kill a trooper. We’re all in danger.” Her father tightened the reins in his hands. “Yesterday these camels trotted along as they felt comfortable. Today we’re going to push them. We’re going full speed, and we’re bringing it right to those men.” His eyes narrowed as he judged the distance between them and the row of outlaws. “Amber, keep your head low. All you need to do is hang on, because you’ll be moving faster than you’ve ever moved before in your life.”

  “Yes, sir.” She’d failed miserably in her quest to leave the camels behind. Now they were her only hope for survival.

  “I’ll ride in front, to shield Ambrosia,” Bradley said.

  “We both will. Just remember, speed and surprise are the keys.”

  “But won’t they be able to just stand there and shoot us?” Maybe there wasn’t a choice, but Amber still wanted to make sure they’d thought of every outcome.

  Her father smiled. “It’s hard to shoot straight when your horse spooks. Let’s go.”

  They lined up facing the gunmen. The younger camels joined them, their heads swaying playfully as they tried to figure out the new game.

  “That’s right,” Gunther called. “Turn yourselves in. We’ll treat you right nice.”

  Bradley had never been so mad in his life.

  “Walk toward him,” Captain Herald said. “Watch his horse.”

  But what if the horse didn’t bolt? The Gunther gang had been following them ever since the Cherokee lodge. According to the captain, horses quickly became accustomed to the camels’ scent and appearance. Not only that, but these horses had already traveled a distance at a speed that surprised Bradley. Maybe they weren’t your everyday, run-of-the-mill horses.

  The morning light spilled over the horizon. They had it at their back—thank God for small favors. And by the light, Bradley saw a most heartening sight. Pete Gunther’s horse. Except it wasn’t his horse at all. It wasn’t the paint that he’d been riding yesterday.

  “Those are fresh horses.” Bradley kept his voice low. “That’s why they caught up with us.” He now knew the location of the gang’s hideout. And what was even better, these horses had never seen the camels before.

  The new horse’s ears twitched as it tried to spot them in the sun. Even from this distance, Bradley could see its nostrils flare as it whiffed their unfamiliar scent. Gunther removed his hand from his gun holster to take up the reins. He was having trouble keeping his mount still. His brother said something from behind him. The others laughed, but then one of their horses started acting up, too. No longer were they focused on their approaching enemy. Instead, they were trying to calm their suddenly agitated horses.

  “This is it,” Captain Herald said. “Run right at them.”

  “Bust their line and keep going until you see the fort,” Bradley answered.

  Camels weren’t as easy to spur as horses, since they tended to have a mind of their own, but they liked fun, and steaming ahead at a row of nervous horses must have been fun for the camels. If it weren’t for the guns the gang was carrying and the fact that he was protecting Ambrosia, it would’ve been fun for Bradley, too.

  The camels’ trot smoothed into a gallop. Now they were flying. He looked once at Ambrosia. She’d lost her hat but was sticking in the saddle like an old hand.

  The Gunthers weren’t as lucky. Two horses were galloping away despite their riders’ best efforts to hold them. One man was on the ground, and another was barely holding on as his mount pitched and bucked.

  Bradley had looked forward to busting through their line, but by the time the camels breached their spot, there was no line left. Only wild-eyed horses doing their best to get away. Most of the gang realized their miscalculation, and seeing that they weren’t in a position to put up a fight with both their horses and the law, they made a run for it. Only the two Gunthers had a mind to stick it out and follow.

  Bradley watched over his shoulder as they strong-armed their horses into submission. “Don’t be stupid,” he muttered, but the Gunthers were all sorts of ignorant and spurred the horses after them.

  Bradley had wondered what kinds of stunts he could do on a camel, and now he was fixing to find out. Throwing a leg over the hump and spinning around backward, he slid down Melda’s sloped withers and ducked below the high saddle. She didn’t seem to mind that he was riding backward and almost sitting on her neck. Maybe she understood that he was protecting their rear.

  A bullet whizzed past before he heard the shot go off. The Gunthers weren’t messing around. He leveled his gun against the saddle and sighted it on Pete Gunther. As he was pulling the trigger, a ping sounded next to him, and Melda stumbled. His shot went high.

  “Is she hit?” Amber called.

  “Keep going,” he answered.

  That had been the younger brother shooting at him. Bradley glanced down and saw water spurting from his canteen. He grinned. That piece of tin was the most useful item in his gear. First it had saved his life, and now his mount’s.

  He drew Pete into his sights again and knew he wouldn’t miss this time. Bradley’s finger squeezed the trigger. Fire leapt from the barrel. Pete jarred, then slowly slid out of his saddle. His brother wheeled around, giving up the chase to help him.

  Bradley felt like cheering. From here it was clear sailing to Fort Reno. In a couple hours, they’d be home.

  Chapter

  11

  Heading northeast from the fort, a small band of troopers glided over the waving grasslands toward the Arapaho council meeting. Lieutenant Jack Hennessey
was the representative for the cavalry, and while he expected the Arapaho meeting to go well, the troopers knew the Gunther gang was in the area. No one would travel alone until they were brought in.

  “Sir,” Private Krebs called from behind him. “Someone is coming up fast on our right.”

  Jack shaded his eyes. Was it one of their own, or someone looking for trouble? “Field glasses.” He held out his hand.

  “Uh . . .” Sergeant Byrd kept the glasses to his face. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “That’s why I want the field glasses,” Jack said, prompting Byrd to finally hand them over.

  It took his eyes a second to adjust. There was the cloud of dust and what looked like a group of five, perhaps. He thought he saw the blue of a cavalry uniform, so he focused on that rider, but then a bizarre face flashed across the lens. Jack lowered the glasses and squinted, then pulled the glasses up again. What was that? The riders were closer now, and he could tell there was something wrong with their horses. They were giant, with strange heads and absurdly long legs. The riders were sitting way up in the air, like balancing on a pile of saddle blankets, but one of them was turned around backward, shooting behind them.

  There was only one cavalryman from Fort Reno who would try a stunt like that.

  “Boys,” Jack said, “I don’t know what they’re doing, but that there is Private Willis, and he’s one of our own.”

  “It’s Willis?” Word spread like wildfire along with shouts and cheers. “Let’s go!”

  What would Major Adams say when he found out that his punitive assignment had added another chapter to the legend of Bradley Willis? Jack would insist on being the one to give the report.

  Lieutenant Hennessey and his men came to the rescue. Bradley considered accompanying them to round up the rest of the Gunther gang, but the camel and horse trouble made it impossible. Besides, after all they’d been through, he wasn’t about to leave Ambrosia and Captain Herald now.

 

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