Lonesome Bride (28 page)

Taking a deep breath, Caite knelt on the edge. She no longer cared what anyone in Staghorn might think of her. Even if they had forgiven her earlier trespasses, this distinctly unladylike behavior would seal her doom with the town's women as surely as if she had painted her face and danced the can-can in the town square. She found she no longer cared. A sense of heady, intoxicating excitement filled her.

Hooking her hands onto the edge, she slowly rolled her body off the roof until she was dangling. Fortunately, she had judged right. The post was right there, nudging her knee. She wrapped her legs around it as tightly as she could while encumbered by her skirts, then lifted her hands one at a time and grasped the splintered wood post.

From there it was easy to shimmy down to the floor. As easy as one could expect while wearing enough cloth to outfit an army anyway. Splinters gouged her hands, but she would worry about that later. Now she just had to find Tripper.

Caite turned to see a good portion of Staghorn's womenfolk, as well as Davis Lacky, staring at her as if she had fallen from the sky. In a sense she had, she supposed, suppressing a crazy smile.

"Good day, ladies, Mr. Lacky,” she greeted, nodding at each of them in turn. From above, she heard a shuddering crash telling her Jed and the sheriff had succeeded in breaking down the door.

Caite walked quickly around the corner of the hotel, so as to be out of sight from the window. If her luck held, she would be able to make it to the livery stable and find Tripper before any of Staghorn's good townspeople could tell her pursuers where she had gone.

Ducking behind the row of buildings next to Horner's, Caite ran toward the stable. She assumed Jed had taken Tripper there since the gelding was no longer tied up in front of the hotel. It only took her a few minutes to reach the livery. Tripper was in the first stall to her left. He recognized her and nickered.

"Help you, miss?"

Startled, Caite let out a little shriek. It was only the stable boy, a gangly, straw-haired youth with just the first hint of down on his chin. He gestured at Tripper. “Need help getting him saddled up?"

"Oh, yes.” Caite smiled, relieved. “But could you hurry, please? I am in a bit of a rush."

"Sure thing, ma'am.” The lad busied himself with efficiently saddling the patient gelding. He worked quickly and silently, sneaking covert glances at Caite from the corner of his eye.

"I simply can not thank you enough,” she simpered, realizing that a pretty smile easily swayed boys even before they became men.

The boy grinned sheepishly. “My pleasure, ma'am."

"You've been such a treasure,” Caite said, kissing him swiftly on the cheek.

The gesture gained her the exact reaction she desired. Stammering and fumbling, the boy helped her up on Tripper and backed away without demanding a cent from her. Thanking him again, Caite clicked to the horse to get him started.

She had insisted on riding astride, despite her skirts. Not wanting to shock the boy even further, she had merely tucked the yards of fabric around her legs. Already they were bunching uncomfortably, flapping in the breeze and generally making her seat more unsteady than usual. She did not have time to adjust herself. She wanted to get out of town.

Kicking Tripper into a gallop, Caite rode the horse away from Staghorn, sparing a glance behind her. No sight of Jed or the sheriff.
Good.
If she could get enough of a head start, she would be able to get back to Heatherfield, gather her possessions and convince Shorty she needed to leave right away.

Of course, she recognized that timing, the major flaw in her plan, was not in her favor. However, she had set herself in motion and could not back out now. She was going to have to do whatever she could not to honor that contract.

"Hell and blast!” Jed shouted, when he and Miles at last burst through the door. No sign of Caitleen anywhere in the room.

"Looks like she lit out,” Miles commented.

"She couldn't get out through a locked door with a dresser in front of it,” Jed barked ferociously.

Miles pointed laconically at the open window, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. “I reckon she didn't leave through the door."

"Hell and blast!” Jed rushed to the window, looked down to the porch roof. “She's not there."

"Don't mean she wasn't there, Jed,” Miles said. A hint of humor had crept into his voice. “She might've seen us coming. If she's as smart as you say, then I reckon she could've figured out why I was crossing the street with you."

Jed slammed his fist onto the windowsill. “She's run off."

"I'd say it looks that way."

Blast that woman!
He was only trying to get her to see the light and agree to marry him. Why'd she have to go and run off? She could have gotten herself killed, jumping off that roof.

Despite his annoyance, Jed couldn't help feeling admiration for the feisty, Irish hothead. Caitleen sure as shooting knew what she wanted, or what she didn't. What other woman would have jumped off a roof to get away from him? That was one of the things he loved about her. Her impetuousness. Even if this little stunt did make him want to shake her until her green eyes rolled right out of her head.

"Gotta find her,” Jed said. He swung one long leg over the sill, pausing only when he heard Miles clearing his throat. He turned back to look at the sheriff. “What?"

Miles looked from Jed to the door pointedly. “Jed, I reckon I can understand you being eager to get to her and all, but we ain't the ones who gotta jump off a roof. We can use the door."

"Damn!” Jed cursed, stepping back inside the room. Miles must think him a doggone fool. Well, in the case of a certain red-haired woman, he supposed that's exactly what he was.

"She can't have gotten too far,” Miles remarked bemusedly. “Son, she's got you more riled than a chicken next to a pot full of dumplings."

Jed sighed. “I reckon you're right."

Miles laughed, clapping Jed on the shoulder. “Been there myself, Jed. Where do you think she might have got herself to?"

Jed shook his head. “Most likely, she just wanted to prove a point. She's probably down to the mercantile, looking at something pretty. When I walk in, she'll fix me with that stare that could freeze a branding iron and just dare me again to bring the law on her."

"You sure you want me to come with you?” Miles asked. “I don't want to come in the way of you two. A joke's a joke, Jed, but your lady don't seem to have much of a sense of humor about this whole thing. No offense to your lady, of course."

Jed ran his hands through his hair distractedly. “No, I suppose she don't. I reckon I haven't given her much of a reason to find anything I do funny anyway."

Miles laughed. “Get used to it, son."

That cursed sun was beating down on her head, and she had forgotten her bonnet. Caite blinked, wincing at the pain throbbing behind her eyes. She had pulled Tripper back to a walk, unable to stand the jouncing any longer.

She had been a real little fool to go riding off like this. Why had she let her temper get the best of her again? Not only was she vastly unprepared for a lengthy trip on horseback, she had no idea where she was.

She fought the panic welling up inside her. The only reason nothing looked familiar was because I didn't pay enough attention to the landscape during the ride in, she told herself. She was certain she had set off in the right direction. Besides, Tripper had taken this trip often enough to know the way. Shorty had told her horses had the best sense of direction of any animal.

As if he knew her thoughts, the gelding tossed his head and whinnied. Caite patted his neck, glad to have some excuse for voicing her thoughts aloud.

"There, there, Tripper,” she soothed. “You shall get us home all right. I know it."

Tripper snorted as if to emphasize what a fool she was being. The big animal stopped all at once, planting his feet stubbornly. Even when Caite clucked to him and kicked at its sides, the horse refused to move.

"Are we going in the wrong direction?” she asked hopefully, well aware she sounded insane.
Talking to a horse, indeed!
As if the beast could answer her.

She decided to let Tripper have his head. Maybe he did know where he was going, after all. It would be worth a try.

Davis Lacky had told him about Caite shimmying down the porch post, “just like one of them monkeys from Aferca.” Several of the town's ladies had confirmed the story. It was good gossip.

"She just ducked down behind the mercantile and was gone,” Hildy Matter had told him.

Hildy's best friend, Sarah Smith, had nodded enthusiastically. “Quick as a wink. I guess she didn't want you to see her."

Jed had thanked them, heading straight for the store. He'd been certain Caite would be waiting inside. The first tingles of apprehension were starting to fill him.

"Not this morning,” Hazel Lacky answered, sincerely regretful. She was as nice a woman as her husband was a weasel. “No, I haven't seen her. She certainly didn't come in here. Davis tells me congratulations are in order, Jed."

Jed smiled widely. “Thanks, Hazel. Sure you haven't seen her? Maybe passing by?"

"You tell Sally we miss her in here,” Hazel called after him. “Things haven't been the same since your Pa stole her away!"

Jed and Miles left the store. Standing on the street, both men scanned up and down, looking for any sign of Caite. There was nothing.

"You reckon she might have took it into her head to run back to your place?” Miles asked. He began rolling another one of his cigarettes.

Jed hoped not. Although it was only a few hours ride from Staghorn to Heatherfield, it could be dangerous. Especially for a woman alone.

"It would be just like her,” he said grimly, looking toward the livery stable. “I reckon we might as well go find out if the horse is gone."

Tripper's ears perked forward as he trotted. Caite hoped that was a good sign. The reins were slack in her hands, and she was letting the animal go where it wished. She prayed Tripper knew where he was going.

They crested a small hill to find a clear stream burbling before them. Caite frowned. She didn't remember crossing a stream on the way to Staghorn. Tripper headed eagerly for the water, splashing into the shallow depths and dipping his head down for a drink.

"So this is why you wanted to come this way,” Caite scolded uneasily. “You were thirsty."

Thirst could make an animal turn its course for certain, she knew. She had ridden Tripper quite hard out of Staghorn, and it was not unreasonable to expect him to be thirsty. But had his search for water taken them away from the ranch, or closer to it? She had no way of knowing.

She moved uncomfortably in the saddle. Her skirts had shifted abominably, bunching under her legs and bottom. She was afraid to get down to rearrange them, knowing she would probably not be able to hoist herself back into the saddle.

She would simply have to adjust herself while on the horse. It might be awkward, but at least the rest of the ride would be more comfortable. Besides, having something to do would take her mind off of her fears.

"Yes, sir. I helped a red-haired lady get the horse,” the stable boy said nervously.

Jed barely restrained himself from grabbing up the skinny youth and throttling him. “You did what?"

Miles put a restraining hand on Jed's arm. “Samuel, how long ago did you saddle that horse?"

Samuel looked from the sheriff to Jed and back again. “Am I in trouble, sheriff?"

"I'll say you are,” Jed growled.

Miles silenced him with a look.

"Naw, Sammy, you ain't in trouble. We just want to find out what happened to Miss O'Neal and where she might have gone. We're just a might worried about her, that's all."

Sammy's lower lip trembled, and Jed felt instantly ashamed. Heck, the boy couldn't be more than twelve anyway. It wasn't his fault Caite was a headstrong, ornery, cussed troublemaker.

Jed reached out and ruffled the boy's straw-colored hair. “Can you tell us which way she was headed?"

Sammy nodded solemnly and pointed out of town. “That way, sir. She took off hell for leather."

"Guess she was heading back to the ranch,” Miles noted, tossing the boy a shiny coin for his troubles.

Jed groaned. “She's going the wrong way."

Caite locked her knees when she stood in the stirrups. Carefully, she began tugging her tucked-up skirts from beneath her with one hand while keeping a tenuous grasp on the saddlehorn with the other. Tripper raised his head from the creek and shifted warily beneath her.

"Stay still!” she commanded, fear roughening her voice.

She gave one final tug to the fabric, pulling it away from her legs. A gust of wind caught the edge of her skirt, lifting it high in the air before letting it drop to the horse's side. Tripper snorted at the unfamiliar sensation, dancing uneasily along the creek bed.

Caite rocked in the stirrups, nearly losing her balance and toppling from the saddle. At the last second she managed to grab the saddle horn with her other hand, so both were now supporting her. With a sigh of relief, she unlocked her knees and sat down.

Now all she needed to do was raise the infernal skirts and tuck them up around her legs as close to trousers as she could make them, freeing her legs to grip Tripper's sides. Of course, to do that, she needed to let go of her grip on the horn. Tripper had dipped his head again to drink, so she chanced it.

She was able to gather bunches of material in her hands while precariously holding her seat with her thighs. Tucking it around her legs was another story entirely. As she struggled with the obstinate garments, Tripper began to snort and shift again.

"Stay still!” Caite pleaded, dropping one end of the skirt so she could grab the saddle again.

At the weight of the cloth slapping against him again, Tripper took off, Caite helplessly clinging to his back.

"She can't have gotten very far,” Miles noted, dropping his cigarette to the dirt and grinding it out carefully with his heel. “We'll find her, Jed. Don't worry."