The Bride's Prerogative (107 page)

“How?”

“Don’t know.”

Griffin glanced over his shoulder. Libby, Bitsy, and the other passengers had retreated into the trees, out of sight. He peeked around the lead horse’s muzzle, preparing if necessary to run into the open and draw Luke’s fire.

Luke stood on the bridge, looking down over the side. The other two outlaws were scrambling for the far side.

“He’s going to get Vashti.” Griffin leaped into the open. “Hatley!”

As Luke swung toward him, Hiram stepped out from the shadow of the near wheeler’s side and took aim, holding Vashti’s Colt with both hands, and squeezed the trigger.

CHAPTER 33

V
ashti lay in the icy water, stunned. The fall was farther than she’d bargained for, and the bottom rockier. She’d had the breath knocked out of her. Both ankles and one wrist throbbed, but she didn’t move. She lay with her head to one side, hauling in gulps of air and concentrating on keeping her face out of the six-inch-deep water.

Above and behind her, several shots rang out. She didn’t care. She only wanted to breathe.

A closer explosion jerked her into reality. She craned her neck and looked up at the bridge. Luke was up there, still wearing the ridiculous mask. He’d spotted her in the creek. He raised his rifle to his shoulder and pointed the barrel at her.

“What’s the matter, Georgia? You used to like me.”

She turned her face away. Let him shoot her if he wanted. That would be better than going with him again.
Lord, if You want to take me home, I’m ready
, she thought. Then she remembered Griffin and the others. She looked around at Luke again. He was still aiming at her.

“Come on. I haven’t got all day. Get up.”

She closed her eyes.

Two more shots rang out. Something splashed in the water beside her. She opened one eye. A rifle was caught in the current but snagged on the rocks. It lay there in the burbling water. Had Luke dropped his gun?

A bigger splash threw gallons of freezing water over her. She raised her head. Luke lay facedown in the creek, on top of his rifle.

Vashti huddled, shivering in the stagecoach. Libby and Bitsy rubbed her hands and feet. Both had donated their shawls to keep her warm, and they’d recovered her leather vest.

“You’re going to be all right,” Bitsy said, wrapping Vashti in her arms. “Griff and the other men will get the team straightened out, and we’ll take this coach back home.”

“No,” Vashti said. “We’ve got to get the mail through to Nampa.”

“We’ll go back to the Democrat Station, and they’ll get a new team,” Libby said. “Then we’ll take you home. Someone else can drive to Nampa.”

They wouldn’t have an extra driver on hand, but Vashti knew it was useless to explain the quirks of the stage line.

A gunshot sounded, very close and loud. She jumped and grabbed Bitsy’s hand.

“There now, honey. Griff said they’d have to put the one horse down. I’m sorry.”

Vashti squeezed her eyes tightly shut. A tear escaped and ran down her cheek.

Hiram came to the door of the coach. “How are you doing, ladies?”

“We’re all right.” Libby’s usually cheerful voice was subdued as she looked to her husband for news.

“Griff’s unhitching the lead horse that wasn’t hurt. He’s going to send the cowboy to get the men from the Democrat Station.”

“What about the outlaws?” Bitsy asked.

“Mr. Rice and the other passenger are guarding the two that Griffin captured.”

Bitsy frowned. “So … two dead?”

“Three. That one we got first thing—” Hiram stopped and swallowed hard.

“The one you shot out the window? What about him?” Bitsy asked.

“We took all their masks off. It’s Cecil Watson.”

Vashti stared at him for a moment, then collapsed against the back of the seat. The man who’d run out on her in Nampa had joined the outlaws. She felt as if every ounce of energy had been drained from her.

Outside, receding hoofbeats told her the cowboy was leaving for the swing station. A moment later, Hiram stepped aside and Griffin appeared in the doorway.

“We’ve decided to wait until they bring another team out. One of the wheel horses has a flesh wound. He’ll heal up, but I don’t want to ask him to pull right now.”

Vashti sat up, finding new strength. If Griffin could keep going with his knee all smashed up, she could, too. “What about the leader? The one blocking the bridge?”

Griffin winced. “We’ll have to move him. I figure when Mr. Jordan and his boys get here, we’ll hitch the new team to the horse and drag him off the road. Maybe we can get a crew out here this afternoon to dig a hole. Don’t want to leave something dead that big so close to the road.”

She nodded, thankful for that. She wouldn’t have to pass the horse’s carcass every time she drove this road.

Griffin leaned his big body inside so that he was half in the coach and blinked in the dimness. His gaze focused on Vashti. “How you doing?”

She nodded, frowning. “I’ll be all right. I’m a little sore in places.” He reached out and touched her cheek gently. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have Doc check you over.”

She nodded and on impulse grabbed his hand. “How about you? Hiram said one of the outlaws was Cecil Watson.”

“That’s right. He’s dead. Him and Hatley and the one they called Benny. So now we know: They had an insider who knew when there would be treasure in the box.”

She sucked in a breath. “Thank you, Griff. You and Hiram.” Her tears let loose, and she turned her face away.

Two hours later, Griffin and Vashti rode together in the stagecoach. Mr. Jordan had insisted he could drive a team of mules back to his station. It wasn’t that far, and the injured parties needed to sit inside, in relative comfort.

Libby, Bitsy, and Hiram opted to ride on the roof with Jordan, and the other passengers rode the two healthy horses from their original team. Griffin thought they’d all gone to great lengths to put him and Vashti alone in the stage together, but he didn’t mind. If his knee didn’t hurt so much, he’d have been tickled.

“You’d better have Doc check out that knee,” Vashti said. She hadn’t protested when he sat beside her on the cushioned seat at the back of the coach, instead of one of the other seats. He took that as a good sign.

“My knee will be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I’m just bruised up. Nothing’s broken.” Her clothes were still damp, but she’d dried out considerably. She probably would heal up within a couple of weeks, but it wasn’t her bumps and bruises that worried him.

“What about Luke?” he asked.

“What about him?”

Griffin drew in a deep breath. “Did you know he was in these parts?”

She was quiet for a moment; then she looked at him. “I thought I saw him in Boise, that one time I drove through. Trudy was with me. I saw a man come out of a saloon, and I thought it was Luke. Scared me something awful.”

“Did you tell Trudy?”

Vashti nodded. “I decided it wasn’t really him—just my imagination.”

“Do you think he came here looking for you?”

“No. He probably came looking for a chance to make some easy money. When he heard about me, he probably thought it was a streak of luck.”

“Folks have been talking about the female driver,” Griffin said. “Yes. And if he heard my name was George Edwards …”

“He knew you as Georgia?”

“Yes. I changed my name after I left Ike’s.” She sighed and shrank away from him, into the corner of the seat.

Griffin reached over and found her icy cold hand. He cradled it in his and stroked it with his thumb. “That’s all in the past.”

“I know.” Her voice had gone tiny, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

He inhaled deeply and let the breath out in a puff. “So why did you pick the name Vashti?”

She blinked at him. “You sure you want to chitchat now?”

“Might as well.”

She looked out the coach window. They were going uphill, only half a mile or so from Democrat. She sat back with a sigh, still letting him hold her hand. “When I came here to Idaho, I wanted a new name. Somebody told me once that Vashti was the name of a queen in the Bible.”

“I reckon that’s right.”

“Yeah. But see, after we got the parson and I started going to church, I found out the king got mad at Vashti and kicked her out. He got himself a new queen.”

Griffin nodded. “Esther.”

“That’s the one. And Esther was the really pretty one, and she ended up being the honorable queen. Vashti was thrown out of the palace in disgrace. Esther saved her people.”

“That’s true, but I wouldn’t be so hard on Vashti if I were you.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Nope. From what Reverend Benton says, I’d say Queen Vashti was quite a lady.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. Her husband wanted her to act in an unseemly manner, and she refused.”

Vashti pondered that. “I thought she was bad because she wouldn’t do what the king said.”

“Maybe. But I think she had a reason for that. Maybe if you ask Miz Benton, she can tell you more about Queen Vashti.”

“I might do that.”

“Good. Because I happen to think the name suits you more than you know.”

“Really?”

“Yup. You don’t stand by convention, and … well, if anyone was to ask me, I’d say you had a regal way of moving, and you’re pretty enough to show off, too.”

She eyed him critically, as if she thought he was making fun of her.

“I mean it,” he said softly. “I think a heap of you, Vashti Edwards.”

She sucked in a breath. “Honest?”

He squeezed her hand. “Honest.”

Halfway back to Fergus they met the welcoming party. Jordan had taken the stage and its paying passengers on to Nampa himself, driving the mule team and taking one of his hostlers along as shotgun messenger. He’d loaned Griffin his farm wagon. With Hiram driving, they’d headed out with the two sound horses from the stage team in harness. Libby and Bitsy sat on the seat with Hiram, and Griffin and Vashti sat in the back on a quilt.

From the road ahead, a whooping broke out with the sound of pounding hoofbeats. Vashti held on to the side of the wagon and raised herself until she could see three horses approaching at breakneck speed.

Ethan and Trudy Chapman galloped toward them, and out in front came Justin on Griffin’s gelding, Pepper.

“Uncle Griff!” When Justin saw his uncle in the wagon, he halted Pepper and slid to the ground. Hiram stopped the team, and Justin climbed over the wheel into the wagon bed. He flung himself into Griffin’s arms. “What happened? Mrs. Chapman and I were worried, so the sheriff telegraphed Nampa. They said you were late.”

“We got waylaid.” Griffin slapped the boy on the back. “We’re all right, so quit fretting.”

Justin looked at Vashti. “You, too, Miss Edwards?”

“I’m going to be fine, Justin,” she said.

Ethan and Trudy rode up to the wagon and greeted them all. Bitsy launched into a colorful account of the day’s events.