Brazos Bride (3 page)

Micah stood. "Are you all right? Shall I get Theresa?"

"No, I must continue." She motioned for him to resume his seat. “Ah, where was I?” She took a deep breath, as if gathering in the energy to go on. “Each day afterward, I scraped my meals into a crock I had hidden in my room so it would look as if I had eaten, but I did not taste a bite except from my secret store of food. Soon all my symptoms lessened and a little of my strength returned.”

She leaned forward and stared into his eyes. “Someone wants me dead.”

“
Why?” Micah wanted to cradle her in his lap, protect her. She looked fragile, as if she could disappear in a puff of wind.

“
You know my father left me a large estate, but I cannot control anything. Tio Jorge has complete control over my estate and over me. I am powerless until I turn twenty-five, unless I marry. Should I die before then, Tio Jorge inherits everything.”

Micah hated her uncle. The harsh words the man had hurled at him on several occasions still stung. But not as much as the fact that he refused to honor the verbal agreement Micah had made with Hope's father the day before Alfredo Montoya’s murder.

She continued, “I do not want to think it is him or my aunt, but each has the opportunity and my estate is motive enough.” She shrugged. “Or, perhaps it is someone else. My aunt let slip that my cattle disappear almost daily from rustlers.”

“
Rustlers? Here?”

“
Someone hates me enough to want me dead and my estate in ruin.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against the chair’s back.

“
I haven’t heard talk of any rustling hereabouts, not even from Comanche renegades. Sure can’t imagine anyone hating you, but greed is a powerful motivator.” He fiddled with his hat brim until she opened her eyes. “What’s your plan?”

“
It is over eight months until I turn twenty-five. Alone, I will not be able to withstand whoever is doing this for half that long. But if I were married, I would control my estate now and my husband would be my beneficiary instead of Tio Jorge."

She paused and looked at him, then took a deep breath. "I believe this would give me time to find out who is behind this and to regain my strength.”

“
May or may not remove you from danger.”

“
True, and certainly a marriage would place my husband in danger.”

Micah figured she was correct about her husband being a target if someone really meant her harm. Her mention of marriage startled him, but he refused to let his mind go in that direction. If she married, he’d lose his dream forever. He gave himself a mental kick.

As if he’d ever stood a chance with her
.

He asked, “Can’t you visit someone until your birthday? At least move into town?”

“
With my cattle disappearing, who knows what else might go wrong? I have given my options a great deal of thought. No, I must marry so I am on my ranch and in charge of my estate.”

Micah shook his head. “Won’t work. In Texas, a husband controls any money which comes to his wife.”

Hope nodded. “I have an agreement ready to provide exception to this.” She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “Mr. Stone, probably you have already realized that I am asking you to marry me.”

Micah couldn’t speak. Had his wildest fantasy just come true? Marriage to the woman who haunted his nights—that is, when he wasn’t too worn out to dream? No, this kind of luck didn’t come to Micah Stone.

Hope took a folded paper from her bag and smoothed it on her lap. “This states that in exchange for the half-league of my land adjoining yours and two thousand dollars in cash, you agree to marry me but relinquish control of the rest of my estate, including my home.”

Micah couldn’t breathe. His weary heart pounded with joy. Maybe his bad luck was turning. Twenty-two hundred acres with access to the Brazos River? His ranch and cattle would be saved. And he’d be wed to the woman of his dreams. His mouth dried up so he couldn’t speak. Before he could offer thanks, she leveled her gaze at him.

“
And it also states you agree to an annulment whenever I wish. It would be a marriage in name only, but would of necessity appear a genuine marriage to all save the two of us.”

Hell’s bells
!

Her words dashed his dream to shards. How could she ask it of him? Like being given a fancy cake and told not to eat it.

Micah recalled the warning her arrogant father had issued, that no dirt-poor gunman turned cowpuncher had the right to even look at his daughter. And Hope had stood near and watched, saying nothing. The hurt then and now scalded through him. Looked like she agreed with her puffed-up old man.

"What you really want is a hired gun with the added respectability of a husband without the benefits."

Her offer emphasized that Micah wasn't good enough to socialize with, certainly not good enough to be a
genuine
husband. No, but sure as hell good enough to act as bodyguard and get shot at—or killed.

"It is my understanding that you are quite capable at defending yourself. Were you not a hero in the War at a young age? And did you not capture criminals for a living until you settled here last year? I heard you were considered exceptional with a gun and a champion at capturing dangerous badmen."

Her understanding? He knew the townspeople—hell, everyone in the county—speculated about him. The trial had dredged up everything he’d done—good and bad—and his soul had been scraped bare. Gossips took those facts and twisted them, building him up into some kind of hero or tearing him down as a back-shooting murderer, mostly the latter.

"In spite of what you or anyone else thinks of me, when I came here, I put killing behind me." He touched the gun in his belt. "Since the day I filed on my ranch, I haven't shot at anything but snakes and coyotes—and cows too weak from thirst to survive calving."

If possible, she blanched even paler at the mention of cows dying from thirst.

He couldn’t help himself. Her offer had cut him raw. "There are plenty of men hereabouts who could fill the bill for you. Hire one of them."

He stood and clamped his hat on his head. Damned if he'd play games with lives at stake. He needed the water, but he already hurt enough. He sure as hell didn't need to have his heart stomped to bits on a day-to-day basis.

“
Wait!” She stretched out her hand toward him. “There is no other source of water open to you. If you reject my offer, your ranch is doomed to fail.” Anger or frustration brought color to her cheeks, but her voice was pleading. "Mr. Stone, I need your help and you need my water. You just admitted your cows are suffering. Please...reconsider."

In spite of her apparently angry reaction to his refusal, tears appeared in her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. If he saw her cry, that would do him in, but he couldn’t agree to her insane arrangement. His spirit was already near to breaking—he couldn’t take being near her yet forbidden to touch her, treated like no more than a hired gun. Damned if he didn’t feel like bawling.

"Look, Miss Montoya, you want a puppet with firepower, not a husband. You'll have to pull the strings on someone else." He turned and strode from the room.

Chapter Four

Barely slowing to nod to the Hendersons, Micah couldn't get out of there fast enough. He mounted his horse and headed for the Texas Star saloon. If he had to waste time on a fool's errand, he’d at least have a drink. Damned if he didn’t need to wash the taste of humiliation from his craw.

He wanted to punch something or someone hard and dared anyone to cross him. Indignation burned in his craw. Worse, his chest ached from the pain of Hope’s hurtful offer. How many times would he have to be insulted or snubbed before he realized the so-called
good
people of this town would never accept him? He dismounted and waited for Zach, who followed close behind.

"What lit a shuck under you?" Zach asked quietly as he looped his horse's reins over the hitching rail.

Micah took a deep breath to calm him, but he still ached inside. "I didn't cotton to the lady's request." He walked into the saloon and sat at a front corner table, his back to a wall.

Zach took the seat next to him, his back to the corner’s other wall. "Yeah? Mind telling me what she said?"

Micah recognized some of the dozen or so men in the saloon. A few nodded in greeting, others glared at him or ignored him. Smoke and dim light hid others but he recognized Hope’s cousin across the room. A frowzy saloon girl in a soiled and drooping red dress drifted near.

Zach barely spared her a glance. "We're only here for the whiskey and a private talk. How about a bottle and two glasses?"

The girl pouted at the dismissal, but did as he requested. Zach slipped her some coins—too many as far as Micah could see—and turned back to him. Zach raised his eyebrows, obviously waiting for an answer.

"Miss Montoya wants to hire me." Micah spat out the words in anguish. What a fool he'd been to get his hopes up.

"Dang, I was hoping she’d offer water. Don't know how much longer those cattle will last otherwise—or you. You can’t keep this up, Micah. Neither can the rest of us."

He knew, and that’s another reason her proposal galled him. "Oh, she offered water, but at a high price."

Zach leaned forward. "You gonna tell me or sit there stewing about it?"

Micah glared at his brother. He glanced around to see if anyone could overhear before he spoke. "She thinks someone is poisoning her to get her land and cattle. Offered me half the league of land next to mine and two thousand in cash."

Zach raised his eyebrows and exhaled through his teeth. "Man, that would save your hide. Give you access to the river and twenty-two hundred acres of good land. How'd that get your hackles up?"

"I'd have to marry her for it." Micah tossed back a drink. The memory of his conversation with Hope burned a hole in his pride, stung his craw more than the rotgut whiskey.

"The devil you say?" Zach's surprise changed to a puzzled frown. "Wait, I thought you went sniffing after her 'til her old man chased you off. You still get moony-eyed when you hear her name. Lose interest of a sudden?"

Micah stared at his empty glass, ashamed to admit the truth. Lose interest? Hell no. He figured he'd be interested in Hope Montoya 'til his dying breath. But damned if he'd settle for being the hired help, nothing but a gunfighter. Look but don't touch? Not possible.

Zach said, "Well?"

Micah’s voice shook when he gave in and explained the deal Hope had offered and why. It galled him to admit the woman who haunted his dreams thought of him as no more than a hired gun, a man to be bought, used, and discarded.

Zach looked impressed. “Whew. Two thousand cash and a twenty-two hundred acres of prime land to add to yours, with access to the river.” Zach leaned back and studied him. "Ah, I see. Wounded your pride, did she?"

Hurt and pain erupted. "Hell, yes!” Others nearby turned his way, so he lowered his voice. “As if it wasn't enough her father warned me off from calling on her, then I was blamed when the old man got himself killed. Had to go through the misery of that trial. In spite of the not guilty verdict, you know most people in this county still think I killed Montoya. Now she treats me like some two-bit gunslinger with no regard for my feelings."

Never one to fly off the handle himself, Zach always soothed the troubled spots in their lives. "It appears to me she's offering considerably more than two bits. And as I remember, she testified
for
you, not against you, in that trial. Verified that her father agreed to let your cattle cross their land to the river. Saved your neck."

"It galled her to speak for me, though. You could tell she hated it." He couldn't forget the cold look she'd given him that day in the courtroom. Thank God she'd told the truth, no matter what she thought.

Zach shook his head, then met his gaze. "Micah, she'd just lost her father. For all she knew you killed him. You can sure as hell bet her uncle and aunt told her you did."

"Dammit, that's the point." Micah saw people look around again and lowered his voice. "Now she wants me to marry her, but keep my hands off while I protect her. Then clear out when things are all right. Pay me off like so much trash.”

The land and cash would save him. Without access to the river or a hard rain, his herd was finished and so was he. Damn, what a position to be in. He resented her asking him to be part of such a ridiculous arrangement. His heart cried out for more, much more.

Zach took a sip of his whiskey then leaned back. "Who's to say she wouldn't change her mind? Either way, you'd have the land, cash, and save your cattle. What's so wrong about that?"

"Our last name may be Stone, but I'm sure as hell not made out of it." He snorted at the idea of himself and Hope in a paper marriage. "What kind of man signs up for a hands-off deal like she wants?"

From another corner table, loud laughter erupted. Micah saw the revelers were Hope's cousin Eduardo and two other men. Empty bottles testified to their day's activities even though it was the middle of a weekday when the whole lot should have been at work. As usual, Eduardo dressed like a Spanish don. The man wore enough silver to set up a bank.