A Contract Bride's Triple Surprise (37 page)

“We’ll get you home as fast as we safely can, but it might hurt a bit.”

“I know,” she said. She gritted her teeth and smiled up at him. “But I escaped. And I’m alive.”

“That you are. And I’m damn proud of you. Ross will be, too.”

“Jack, hold her until I mount up.”

“Hunh. Now that she’s all covered up, you let me help play rescuer.”

His words didn’t match his actions as he gently took her from Simon. She’d never been this close to Jack. To keep away the pain, she concentrated on his smiling brown eyes.

“How ya doin’ in there, Mort? You’ve got a ma who’ll kill to protect you, just like James.”

“Hand her up, Jack.”

Simon gestured with his hand. Jack shook his head though he walked toward the horse.

“You think the Raven will ever let me get this close to his pretty wife again? I want as much of her as I can get.”

Simon leaned over as Jack lifted her up. Simon settled her across his lap. He leaned close and whispered in her ear.

“Don’t mind him. He acts like a jackass, but I thought he’d kill himself on the way here, pushing that horse to damn near fly.”

“I’m watching you, Sy,” called Jack over his shoulder. He caught his horse and mounted up. “You kiss that pretty lady, and I’m telling Raven.”

Amelia had to smile at the way the two Elliotts treated each other. Though they poked, they cared about each other, just like Gillis, Ross, and Nevin. Her baby would have lots of brothers and sisters and cousins across the valley. He wouldn’t be left alone in the world.

“We can ride slowly, so you don’t get jarred, but it will take longer. Or we can go quicker, but the pain will be over sooner. Your choice,” said Simon.

“I want to go home,” she said, her voice quavering.

Simon pressed her head against his chest. He wrapped his reins loosely around the saddle horn and held onto her with both arms.

“Home, it is,” he murmured.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Ross erupted at the scream of a raven. His chair crashed to the floor when he jumped to his feet. The scream came closer. Nevin and Gillis rose as well, followed by Trace.

“What the devil’s going on?” groused Smythe. He scrambled backward when the huge, black bird landed on the windowsill. It stuck its head inside and screeched the alarm once more.

Hugh Jennett pulled his gun. Ross had a knife at his neck before he could cock the pistol.

“Shoot that bird and you die.”

The banker let Ross take the pistol from his hand though his eyes promised revenge. The raven gave the same look back. “I hate those damn creatures from hell.”

“I say, what’s all this about?” Smythe had his back pressed firm against the far wall.

“That savage always has those damn birds around him,” complained the banker. “They should all be shot!”

“I’d be careful about who ye call a savage, Jennet.” Gillis spoke quietly, but the man paled and snapped his mouth shut.

“Someone’s attacked my family,” said Ross. He made the knife disappear again. “We’re leaving.”

“But what about the cattle I need?”

Gillis raised an eyebrow at Smythe. “Ye should hae thought a’ that afore ye put them on the table with yer ranch.”

Smythe followed them outside, still stuttering protests. He backpedaled quickly when the four of them mounted their large horses. The raven flew behind the mercantile and circled, waiting.

“We have to split up.”

“I’ll go with the bird. You go home to Amelia,” said Trace to Ross. “If she’s missing, your birds will tell you where to go. This one knows me. He’ll guide me.”

“I’m with Trace,” growled Gillis. “Yer wee wife needs ye. I feel a need to kill someone.” His hand clenched as if clutching a sword.

“Done.”

Ross and Nevin trotted past the hotel. By the time they reached the jail, they were galloping. Trace and Gillis followed the silent raven beside Emslow’s boardinghouse. They discovered a well-worn path up the south side of the town and followed it. After an hour, they smelled smoke and sped up, still moving quietly.

The raven suddenly screamed and dove toward a plume of smoke. Wings back, it fell like a rapier. Trace and Gillis raced their horses toward screams and gunshots. They pulled their pistols, ready for anything.

They rounded a hill and found the remains of a burning sod-roofed cabin. Two men waved their arms to keep the raven away. It hovered between them and the smoking ruins. Trace pulled up and put a bullet an inch from the bigger man’s foot. He screamed and danced sideways. Gillis rode up behind the remains of the smoking building, checking it out. He circled and came back down.

“Move and you’re dead,” said Trace.

The men lifted their shaking hands.

“Turn around. Give me a reason to kill you.”

Trace fought to keep from pulling the trigger when he saw them. Their eyes opened wide. They looked at each other. A silent signal passed between them. They turned to him and sneered.

“Yer too late. The bitch is dead. Burnt herself up.”

The raven rose into the air. He flew in front of the men, tilted his body feet first, and dropped toward the one with black powder scars. He screamed and covered his head, dropping to the ground.

“My black friend says you lie. That’s a good thing,” said Trace.

“We left her here, nice and safe,” said the standing man.

Something about the man’s face was familiar to Trace. He had no time to think of it now.

“Yeah, we wath gonna athk fer gold and give her back.”

The whining lisp of the man on the ground grated on Trace’s nerves like a bad memory. He recognized the powder burns on the man’s face. It was long, long ago, and he couldn’t remember why it was important. He gave a mental shrug and set it on the back burner to bubble up later. He pulled a length of rawhide loose from his saddle and tossed it to Gillis.

“Tie ’em up.”

Gillis stared at one then the other. His eyes narrowed, and his red face darkened.

“Mayhaps we could torture ’em for a bit?”

“Why?” Trace played along with Gillis’s game. The men licked dry lips as they looked from one captor to the other.

“Mayhaps they’ll tell us sommat else. Amelia’s not the first woman they caught.”

Trace hadn’t seen Gillis so eager to attack before. With his wild, red hair all over the place and the evil way he grinned at the men, he could be one of the highland berserkers of old.

“I know thom thingths—”

“Shut the hell up!” The blond punched the other. “You wanna get us kilt?”

They both jammed their teeth shut. A pair of smaller ravens arrived from the direction of the ranch. One landed on Trace’s outstretched wrist, a muddy, blue ribbon in its beak.

“That’s Amelia’s favorite ribband,” said Gil.

Trace looked the bird in the eye. “How’s Amelia?”

The bird made a rattling sound, nodding its head before crooning. It took off and landed in a nearby tree.

“Thank God, she’s going to be all right.”

“Damn. Are ye sure we cannae burn ’em, just a wee bit?”

“Nope. They’re going to the sheriff.”

Though the men complained, Gil insisted on tying them up and laying them across their horses. Trace didn’t object since he was a mite angry himself. There was something on Gillis’s mind, but the man was as stubborn as a tree. Trace would have to wait to find out what.

The larger raven flew toward home while the other pair followed them toward town. Now and then, they’d land on the men’s backs and peck at their pants. None of their injuries were much, but they sounded painful from the men’s screams. And humiliating. He chuckled to himself.

* * * *

Ross raced his horse along the valley. The trip home had never seemed so long. He knew Nevin followed at a slower pace, watching his back. He finally raced into the yard and leaped off his horse.

Jack ran out of the house.

“She’s going to be fine.”

Ross tossed his reins to him and ran into the kitchen. Simon stood at the stove, sipping coffee.

“Where is she?” demanded Ross, his chest heaving.

“Upstairs with Beth. But don’t—”

Ross pounded up the stairs, his lungs tight from holding his breath for so long. When his head cleared the floor and he saw Amelia sitting up in bed, his steps slowed. She looked at him and shuddered. Did she hate him that much for not protecting her?

Her hands were thick with bandages. Strands of her long hair twisted out at the ends, singed. Red spots dotted her face. Blisters. He snarled when he recognized the outline of a hand where someone had slapped her face.

“What happened?”

“It’s best if she speaks as little as possible,” said Beth. Calm and cool, she stood beside the bed. “Shall I tell you?” He turned to her, unable to look at the disappointment on Amelia’s face. He nodded.

“Two men came. They took Amelia. Daniel held back and followed them. They went to a small cabin, locked her inside, and said they’d be back. Amelia sent Daniel for help. The ravens alerted us, so Simon and Jack were at the house when Daniel arrived. Amelia escaped by setting fire to a corner of the sod roof and climbing out. Simon carried her back. She’s got some burns, and her throat is raw from the smoke, but she will be fine.”

He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

“Did they touch you?” He finally looked back at Amelia.

She nodded, her chin trembling. She dropped her eyes, not wanting to see him. “But—”

He staggered and turned away. Again, he was too late. She didn’t want him, had turned away in disgust.

Memories hit. Little girl cries of fear. His throat burning as he screamed as well, running as fast as he could to her. The tears that he had to blink back so he could see and not trip.

The blond man’s scream when she sliced his face with her knife. Her sudden quiet when the brute punched her. Then his grunts. And those of the next. And the next. And the last.

His heart almost bursting in fear, panic, and rage as they rode away. Fear that he would not have the chance to kill them. One turned back, laughing that he wanted another taste before she died.

His quiet moccasins made no sound as he ran up behind the man lying on his cousin. He slid his knife between ribs and into a black heart. The man screamed as he hauled him off her body.

Too late. Her eyes stared up at the sky.

He remembered nothing until someone took her out of his arms. They told him he cut the man so he would never be whole again. That he carried her back, staggering under her weight. The weight of his shame was far heavier. They sent him back to his father. His father’s blow knocked him sideways. He lay as his father roared that he was banished from the tribe, sent back to them in disgrace as a coward.

He knew then that he was damned. Only if he killed all the men would he be accepted. He took on the blood debt and spent every minute working toward erasing it.

For a while, he thought Amelia, who knew nothing of his failure, might want him.

But he’d failed again. Failed his wife. She’d lived but must hate him for it.

He turned away, unwilling to look at her and see his shame reflected on her face. He walked down the stairs in a daze. Someone pulled on his arm. He shook it off. Halfway to the barn, he heard feet running toward his back.

“Mr. Ross? Is Mrs. MacDougal going to get better? They won’t let me see her.”

He couldn’t face his wife. He had no choice with the boy. He turned. Daniel trembled in front of him. Wet lines tracked over his dusty cheeks. Ross nodded. Young shoulders slumped in relief.

“You did a good job today, Daniel. She’s hurt, but she’ll heal.”

Ross managed to choke out the words the child needed to hear. He couldn’t deny Daniel what he so craved at the same age.

“Can I help you catch them?”

“Gillis and Trace Elliott went after them. I’m going to make sure they’re caught.”

“Can I go with you? I can hide from Pa.”

He would not let the pain in his heart hurt the boy. Not like he’d been hurt. He knelt so his face was at the same level as Daniel’s.

“I need you to stay here. With the three of us away, you’re the only MacDougal man. Can you help Mrs. Elliott take care of my…Mrs. MacDougal?”

Daniel nodded. “You gonna shoot ’em?”

Ross shook his head. He slowly reached behind his back and pulled his biggest knife from the downward-facing scabbard under his shirt. He held it up so the light caught the wide blade.

“Shooting’s too easy for scum like that.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. He gulped in awe. “I’ll keep her safe until you come back, Mr. Ross.”

Ross nodded though he wouldn’t be back. Amelia would have Nevin, just as she wanted from the beginning. Gillis would roar and bellow, but he’d eventually settle when the boy was born. Maybe when the last man was dead, Ross could return and face his failure.

Maybe.