The Anonymous Bride (13 page)

Hoofbeats pulled even with the door. “Carly, you in there?”

Unable to catch her breath, she didn’t respond to her brother’s question. She tried to push up, but Ellie’s limp body weighted her down. The stage swayed right and left, groaning and creaking, until she feared it would tip over.

Ty cursed. “Carly’s down.”

More gunshots echoed behind them.

“Soldiers! Let’s ride.”

Ty was leaving her? She had to get out of the coach or she’d be caught. But even as she struggled to get Ellie’s dead weight off her, an idea formed in her mind. Did she dare go through with it?

She heard more riders pass the stage. “Get it stopped, Chet, and see if the passengers are injured.”

The stage gradually slowed, but the other riders charged on ahead, probably after her brother. Would he fight for her or just keep running like the time a gang member had fallen under gunfire? A sudden thought blasted into her mind. She had no idea where to look for her brother now that they were separated. And she had no horse. They hadn’t discussed this development.

Her breath came in ragged bursts as the stage squeaked to a halt. Footsteps marched in her direction, and the door opened. Carly’s heart thundered, and she lay still. Since she’d have surprise on her side, she might be able to pull her gun and shoot the man.

He muttered a soft curse. “Looks like they shot two women.”

Carly felt Ellie’s limp body being lifted off of her, and she sucked in a deep breath and tucked her handbag underneath her. Should she continue to play possum or try to get up?

Before she could decide, steady footsteps brought the man back, and Carly froze. She felt herself being tugged toward the door then lifted into the man’s arms as her handbag dropped to the ground. He smelled of sweat, dust, and leather. He gently set her down, and she moaned. Lifting her hand to her cheek, she pretended to be coming around after passing out.

“W–what happened?” She opened her eyes and saw a man with kind hazel eyes staring back.

“Just take it easy, ma’am. You was in a holdup.”

Carly gasped and splayed her hand over her chest. “Oh mercy. What about the other passenger. Is she...”

“Passed out cold. Might have to do with the shot that grazed her head or the sewing needle piercing her side. And she’s got another bullet in her shoulder.” The man shook his head. “It don’t look good for her. I doubt she’ll make it, especially being so far from town. Joplin’s the closest, so I reckon that’s where you two will end up once the rest of my team returns.”

“Returns?”

The man rose and took a canteen off his saddle horn. “They went after them outlaws. Killed one back a ways, but the others rode off.” He stooped down, opened the canteen, and handed it to her. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

Panic sliced through Carly as she slowly sipped the water, delaying her response. Ellie may not have recognized her real name, but a lawman surely would. “Uh ... Ellie. Ellie Blackstone.”

CHAPTER 12

Lookout, Texas June 1886

Luke scanned Main Street, crowded with people from the town and nearby farms and ranches, all come to Lookout to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. At the far end of the street, music filled the air, and five couples danced to a lively tune. Tables filled with food served by the womenfolk lined one side of Main Street. Luke scowled as Garrett approached, knowing the shindig had been his idea. Max, lying on the porch, didn’t bother lifting his head but wagged his tail.

Garrett laughed and wrapped his arm around Luke’s shoulder in a friendly greeting. “Just relax and enjoy the festivities, cuz. You know these folks jump at any chance to get together for a celebration, especially those who live outside of town. Farming and ranching can be a lonely life.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t like being the center of attention.”

Mark strode toward them carrying two cups, a grin widening his face. “Nice party, isn’t it?”

He handed Luke a mug of something. Luke sniffed it, ignoring his question. Apple cider. He sipped the sweet drink, watching, looking for trouble. With so many people gathered in such a small spot, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

“So, how’s it feel to be thirty, ol’ man?” Mark lifted his cup to his lips.

“Where’s mine?” Garrett stood with his hands on his hips. “I sent you off to get us a drink, and you give mine to Luke?”

Mark grinned. “He’s the birthday boy. Fetch your own refreshment.”

Garrett snarled his lip at Mark and muttered a phony growl, making Luke chuckle. His cousins were all the family he had left, and Lookout had been the only town he’d ever called home. He’d prayed long and thought hard before quitting the cavalry and returning to Lookout, but in the end, family and familiarity won out—not to mention he believed it was what God wanted him to do. His gaze journeyed to where Rachel was cutting pies at a table. Tonight the town was filled with women, and he only had eyes for one. He shook his head. How pathetic he was.

“Why don’t you ask her to dance?” Garrett nudged Luke in the arm.

“What?” Luke shot a glance at his cousin, realizing he’d been caught staring.

“Go ask Rachel to dance.”

“It may be my birthday, but I’m still on duty.”

“Someone else will ask her if you don’t.”

At that very moment, Rand Kessler stopped at Rachel’s table. He stood close to her and said something. Rachel offered a half smile and shook her head. Rand leaned closer. Luke’s hackles lifted. Rachel nodded then waved to the doctor’s wife, who came and took her place at the pie table. Rand offered Rachel his arm, and she took it, allowing him to lead her toward the dancing couples.

“If you still have any interest in Rachel, don’t wait too long.” Garrett gave him a knowing look. “Rand Kessler’s been after her to marry him for a year now.”

Luke ignored the comment, though it ate at him. “How big of a ranch does this Kessler have?”

“Big. He’s one of the more prosperous ranchers in this area.”

Great.
So Rachel was after another man with money. Even if Luke
was
interested in her, she’d never give a low paid town marshal a second look. He ground down hard on his back teeth. Maybe the best thing he could do was get married; then he’d have a woman who could help take his mind off Rachel Hamil—

A blast of shots rang out. Luke flung down the tin cup and yanked out his gun. Max lurched to his feet, whimpering, and disappeared into the jail office. Luke scanned the throng of merchants, farmers, and families gathered along Main Street. Where was the shooter?

His heart galloped. A shooter in such a crowded area could be a disaster. “Did you see the gunman?”

Beside him, Garrett held the same rigid stance. “No. It didn’t sound too close, but it’s hard to tell with all the noise here.”

Luke searched the rowdy crowd. The townsfolk square-danced, chatted, and carried on as if nothing had happened. Had the band’s music muffled the gunfire so they hadn’t heard it? Couldn’t they sense the danger?

The rapid pop sounded again. People on the fringe of the mass spun about, turning concerned stares toward the noise. A woman screamed and grabbed her husband.

“Over there.” Garrett pointed toward the bank with his gun, and then he holstered it. “Stupid kids. Don’t they know they can spark a blaze with those firecrackers?”

Shaking his head at the trio of adolescents, Luke pocketed his pistol. “I’ll run ’em off.”

Mark stepped forward. “Let me and Garrett do it. After all, it’s your party.”

“Yeah, but I’m the marshal. It’s what I get paid to do.” He glanced at the nearby table laden with desserts, where Rachel had been serving pie. “One of you could grab me a slice of Rachel’s apple pie before it’s gone.”

Luke loped toward the bank. Truth be told, he appreciated the town’s celebration of his birthday, but he hated having everyone’s attention focused on him. As the marshal, he was more used to standing back, watching everybody else. He stopped in front of the mercantile and gazed across the road, watching the spot where the youngsters had been gathered. Two of the boys were gone, but a small shape huddled near the corner of the bank. The spark of a match illuminated the child’s face.

Jack.

Not again. Luke strode around the corner, gritting his teeth.

The child glanced up, eyes widening. The match fell to the ground, and Jack took off like a rabbit freed from a snare. Luke stomped the flames that flickered to life on the dry grass, sending dust over the boots he’d polished for tonight’s special occasion. No point chasing Jack now. She was long gone, and besides, he knew where to find her when the dust settled. Swiping the tops of his boots on the back of his pants leg, Luke heaved a sigh. Rachel didn’t need this, but they’d have to talk about Jack’s latest antic. She was going to have to face the facts about her ornery child before someone got hurt.

Fifteen minutes later, after taking a spin around the outskirts of town to make sure all was in order, Luke sat with his cousins on the steps in front of his office. He cut a large bite of golden crust and tender apple, shoved it in his mouth, and licked the cinnamon and sugar from his fork. “Rachel sure does make good pie.”

“Too bad she can’t control that kid of hers as well as she can cook,” Garrett said.

“I’m tellin’ you, Luke, you ought to marry her before Rand does; then you could eat all the pie you want.” Mark’s brown eyes flickered with amusement.

Luke nearly choked on his final bite. “You know I can’t do that.”

“All that was a long time ago, cuz.” Garrett sipped a cup of coffee.

“Maybe so, but after the woman you love betrays you, a man thinks long and hard before risking his heart again.”

“Then maybe you should consider marrying someone else. Have you thought about that?”

Luke stared at his cousins, wishing they’d pick another topic of conversation. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

Garrett grinned wide. “Maybe I will.”

Luke sobered. He was ready to marry and start a family, but so far, no woman had been able to sear Rachel from his heart. Maybe one of these days someone would. “I guess I’d marry if the right woman came along.”

Finished with his own pie, Mark reached over and ran his forefinger along the edge of Luke’s plate, then poked it in his mouth. “Rachel sure knows how to cook. If you’re not interested in her, maybe I’ll see if I can turn her head away from that Kessler guy.”

“That’s not funny, Mark.” Luke cast a sidelong glare to his right.

“You said yourself that you’re no longer interested in her. What’s wrong with me pursuing her?”

Garrett straightened, flicking a beetle off his brown vest. “Rachel’s free to allow any man she wants to come courting.” He looked past Luke to Mark. “But why would you want to marry her? She’s got that pain-in-the-neck kid.”

“Jack’s not so bad. She just needs some guidance,” Luke offered.

“But whoever married Rachel would never have to worry about food, and she is easy on the eyes.” Mark grinned, an ornery gleam in his blue gaze that set Luke on edge. “She could do lots worse than me.”

Having heard enough of his cousins’ foolishness, Luke stood and walked toward the table where Rachel was again serving pies. He could no longer trust her with his heart, but how could he explain this fierce need to protect her, to be near her, when he didn’t understand it himself? She glanced up and smiled, making his pulse gallop.

“Care for another slice? It is your birthday, after all.”

He handed her his dirty plate. “No thanks. I’m good.”

“Are you enjoying your party?”

Luke shrugged. “I guess so.”

“It’s nice having you back in town.”

He shoved his hands in his back pockets, not knowing what to say to her now that he had her to himself. “Good to be back.”

“Well, I hope you have a good time tonight.”

Luke nodded, and Rachel’s smile dipped as he turned back toward his office. Maybe returning to Lookout hadn’t been such a grand idea. Why couldn’t he get his head and heart to line up together? A part of him still cared for Rachel, but he would never again trust her with his heart. He’d done that once, and she’d tromped on it. His heart wouldn’t survive if she did it again.

“You need a wife,” Mark said as Luke approached him.

“Quit saying that.”

“Maybe we’ll just have to find one for you.” Garrett chuckled and bumped his brother.

“No thanks,” Luke called over his shoulder as he walked past them. Max trotted out of the jail and took a place beside Luke as he strode back to the bank to make sure the fire was still out. He returned to watching his town, hoping his hooligan cousins weren’t planning another one of the many practical jokes they’d pulled most of their lives. But he had a bad feeling in his gut, as though he’d drunk soured milk. Those two were up to something; he could smell it.

***

Mrs. Fairland sat in the corner, listening to the first and second graders read. Jack glanced back at her list of spelling words. She should be studying them, but worry plagued her like a bad case of influenza. She took a deep breath and peered over her shoulder at Butch Laird. Even from across the room, she could smell the filthy scent of the Laird’s pig farm. The thirteen-year-old stood nearly six feet tall and glared back at her with squinty black eyes. He pointed his finger like a gun and pretended to shoot her.