The Demure Bride (13 page)

Something in her voice told him she was not lying, and he wondered if he'd overdone the spanking. He stood her on her feet and immediately realized there was something else wrong. Helene's face was white and the lines of pain around her mouth were telling him that she was hurt elsewhere. He suddenly felt guilty as he said, "What is wrong, Helene, and this is not the time to lie to me."

"I hurt myself a while back and it hasn't healed yet," she fibbed.

"Where?"

"My rib," she tearfully admitted. Before she knew what he was going to do, Whitey had two buttons of her shirt undone. When he saw the discoloration and touched the spot gently, she cried out in pain, and then rested her head against his chest.

"What happened, honey? Tell me the truth now," he cajoled, holding her close and comforting her.

"Ted Fox hit me twice. I was ashamed to tell," she found herself admitting.

"You should have told me; I wouldn't of spanked you!" Whitey said, sick with guilt.

"No... I earned a spanking," she shocked him by admitting. "I acted like a brat."

"You sure did," he said with a grin and a wink for her, and that expression was quickly replaced with concern. "We'll get you back to the house and I'll send for Doc."

"No, I don't want anyone to know, Whitey!"

"Do I need to spank you again, little girl?"

Chapter Nine

Robert Thorne rode into town for the express purpose of checking to see if answers to his wires had come back yet. He went to the telegraph office and was told that there was still nothing for him. There were also no replies to the letters he sent to his sisters, but he was sure it was too soon for that. He was anxious to find out who hated him enough to hire someone, or several someones, to kill him. He knew his eldest brother hated him, but since Robert had left England, there was no need for William to give him another thought.

While he was in town, he took the time to deliver a message to Helene's Uncle, letting him know that Helene was enjoying her visit, and so was Amanda. The man thanked him and said he hoped the girl wasn't being a pest in any way, and Rob managed to reassure him that she was welcome to remain at the Chambers' Ranch as long as she liked. The man was pleased with the news and Rob knew he was enjoying the time with his lady friend.

Rob then went to the Mercantile to get some supplies and was told it would be an hour before Ted could get to his list since he was so busy. Rob assured him he understood, and that he would come back in an hour. Ted thanked him, relieved not to lose his business. Rob decided he deserved a beer and made his way to the saloon. The place was nearly deserted since most of the ranch hands were working at this time of day. Rob ordered his beer, and stood at the bar, taking a sip. All of a sudden he was jostled from behind as a man made his way to the bar, shoving Rob aside. "Excuse me," Rob said in his precise way of speaking. "I am standing here."

"Mister, I don't give a rat's ass where you are standing. I am here now and you can get out of my way or get yourself shot."

"I don't want any trouble in here!" the bartender warned.

"You shut your mouth and get me a whiskey, barkeep," the man said belligerently. He never took his the-filled black eyes off of Rob's face. "I hate people who talk like you. You think you're better than the rest of us."

"You do not know me at all, and I do not care what you think," Rob stated calmly. He recognized the man for what he was... a hired gun trying to pick a fight. At least this one was coming at him openly and not planning to shoot him in the back. "Who hired you?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do. You have been hired to kill me; I have a right to know who hired you."

"You got no rights; you're gonna die. Go for your gun."

"Not in my saloon!" the bartender shouted, then ducked when the shootist picked up his glass of whiskey and threw it at him, shattering the mirror hanging on the back bar. "Damnation and hell!" the bartender swore angrily. "That mirror cost a lot of money!" he whined.

"Draw," the shootist ordered, facing Rob squarely.

"If you accepted money to kill a man you should be willing to tell him who ordered the killing," Rob stated.

The man didn't reply. He was tired of waiting for his victim to draw his gun and decided to get the farce over with. He reached for his weapon and Rob drew quickly and fired before the hired gun cleared his holster. The shocked look on his face as he hit the floor would have been amusing under other circumstances. "You killed me, Englishman!"

"Who hired you?" Rob asked again.

"I don't... know..." was the answer as the man died.

The Sheriff came running. "What happened in here?" he demanded, kneeling over the dead man to check for a pulse.

"He was a hired gun and he went for his gun first, Sheriff. Thorne defended himself," the bartender spoke up.

"Any idea who hired him?"

"No, Sheriff," Rob spoke quietly. "I was hoping you would find something in his pockets that might tell us."

The Sheriff nodded and went through the shootist's pockets, but other than some money and a watch, there was nothing at all. Rob's disappointment was palpable. "I'm sorry about this, Mr. Thorne." The Sheriff was disappointed, too. "It's a good thing you know how to use that gun."

Rob nodded, but he did not feel any relief. Who wanted him dead so badly that he would hire men to come after him in this manner? And how could he ask Amanda to marry him when he could be placing her in danger? He took out his wallet and put some bills on the bar. "This should cover the mirror," he told the bartender.

"I can't take your money, Mr. Thorne. You didn't do nothing wrong!"

"I feel responsible. He came looking for me. Please allow me to replace the mirror for you."

After a few seconds of studying Rob's face, the other man nodded respectfully. "Thank you, Mr. Thorne. I'll be sure to send you word when it comes in, and I'll treat you to a beer."

"That would be nice," Rob said with a smile. He left the saloon and walked back to the Mercantile. Word had already reached from one end of town to the other and Ted looked at him anxiously.

"I'm sure glad you bested that fellow, Rob. What is this world coming to that a man can't get a beer without having someone throwing down on him!"

"Have you had any new customers lately, Ted?" Rob asked. He was going to start asking around to see what he could come up with on his own. The Sheriff was trying to investigate, but had nothing to go on. Rob was not about to do nothing while someone kept hiring men to kill him.

"You are the newest customer I've got, Rob, unless you count people just passing through town. Oh, a couple of the ranches have hired a few new hands, but they're just green kids... No one has come in here asking about you, either," Ted offered. "You must have made someone mad at you; what about ladies? Did you leave some woman behind in England who thought you wanted marriage?"

"No, Ted," Rob said with a smile and a shake of his head. "I did not court any young women; the women I did see were not looking for permanence in a relationship. The last woman that I escorted about London left England before I did. She is happily married and living in France."

"What about men? Did you step on someone's toes in business or gambling?" Ted continued to question Rob, wanting to help.

"Not that I can recall. I was involved in a couple of business ventures that ended badly; the man who was responsible for trying to steal the shipments was killed, so it could not be him."

"That leaves family," Ted said quietly.

"My older brother dislikes me intensely; I thought having an ocean between us would solve that problem. No matter how much he dislikes me, Ted, I am fairly confident he would not hire gun slingers to come after me. If he was going to kill me, he would come himself and shoot me face to face in a duel."

"He'd have to be pretty damn good with a gun to do that, from what I hear," Ted said matter-of-factly.

"I have written to my sisters to see if anyone has asked about my whereabouts, Ted. Frankly, I am more than a little at a loss to come up with a name for anyone who might wish me dead. No one but my sisters, at this point, would benefit from my untimely death. To my knowledge, I have not wronged anyone."

"We'll figure it out, Rob."

Rob helped the storekeeper load the supplies he ordered onto the wagon, and then he left town, only to see one of the Circle C riding toward him in a big hurry. He pulled the wagon to a stop. "What's wrong, Leon?" he asked.

"I was told to get the Doc, Mr. Thorne. One of the ladies is hurt real bad," the young man said, and then kicked his gelding to make him run again.

Rob hurried for the Circle C, worrying about Amanda the entire way. He rushed inside the house and nearly ran into Matt. "I saw Leon, Matt; is Amanda hurt?"

"No, son. She's doing better again today. Seems that bastard Fox beat on little Helene, too. She didn't tell no one, but Whitey found out today when he took her over his knee for riding reckless like. He's upstairs with the girls," Matt said, shaking his head. "How could I figure a man so damn wrong!" he growled.

"He was good at his job, Matt. You weren't checking him out as a potential husband," Rob answered. "May I go up?" he asked permission.

"Yeah, come on. I'm sure Mandy has Helene tucked in bed now. She sure lit into Whitey for putting a hand to the girl, but if he hadn't of done it, I would. Darn fool girl. One second she's terrified to be on Molasses' back, and the next she's kicking the durn horse to make her run just to see if Whitey was serious when he said he'd spank her if she took any risks." Matt looked at Rob and said, "I swear, I'm tempted to spank her again myself!"

"No, sir, you sure aren't gonna do that!" Whitey said as they entered the room, his face set in stubborn lines. "I settled that matter and wish I wouldn't have. Helene is in a lot of pain."

"It is my own fault, Whitey. Please don't blame yourself," Helene said, reaching for his hand. "I'm sorry I behaved like a bratty child." When Whitey simply raised her hand and kissed it, both Matt and Rob had to refrain from smiling.

"Helene, would you like for me to get your uncle?" Rob offered. "I am positive he will want to know about this."

"No, please don't tell him. He'll think me foolish for even believing Ted Fox could care about me!"

"Honey, the man in your guardian. He has a right to know you are injured; I already told Leon to fetch him out here," he said, his manner direct and to the point. "Now, don't you lose your temper with me, girl. I'm still of a mind to spank your backside for nearly breaking your neck today. I am responsible for you while you are in my home, and I won't let you ride like that. Hear me?"

"Yes, Mr. Chambers. I am sorry," Helene apologized again, feeling very small.

"Boss, I already settled the matter and there's no need to keep scolding. Helene knows she was in the wrong and has said her sorries for it," Whitey reminded Matt.

"Yes, you're right. Are you goin' to listen to Whitey's advice about riding now, young lady?" Matt asked quietly.

"Oh yes, Mr. Chambers. I promise I will. I truly enjoyed my riding lesson today... except for the spanking part," she added, her cheeks pink as could be with embarrassment.

"Papa, you are embarrassing Helene. Besides, she was riding Molasses... Helene was perfectly safe. She wasn't injured riding," she added, giving Whitey a meaningful look that spoke volumes.

"It wasn't Whitey's fault, Amanda. It was mine. You know Whitey... If I'd told him I was injured, he never would have put a hand to me, no matter if I did deserve it." Whitey gave Helene a grateful smile as she defended him.

"Okay, who is hurt?" Doc asked as he made his way into the room. "Goldie let me in and pointed up here," he said when Matt looked at him questioningly. "Miss Helene, you don't look like you're dying," he said with a smile.

"That bastard Ted Fox hit her, Doc. She's got a few bruises, but the worst one is on her ribcage," Whitey spoke up.

"And how would you be knowing this, young man?" Doc demanded, looking over his glasses at the young man.

"I checked when I realized she was hurt," Whitey answered. "Don't you be thinking anything improper happened. Helene is not that sort of girl."

"That is what I am saying to you, Mister, and best you don't forget that, or you'll be marrying this young lady at the end of a shotgun." Doc had five daughters, and he wasn't about to see an innocent girl taken advantage of if he had anything to say!

"Doc, I have it all under control," Matt said firmly.

"Then control everyone out of this room so I can examine Miss Helene. You can stay, Miss Amanda; the rest of you get!" he gruffly ordered, and then pointedly ignored them as they filed out of the room.

Whitey waited until they were downstairs in Matt's study before exploding. "Helene didn't do nothing wrong, Boss. I don't like what Doc is thinking. I just pulled out her shirt and unbuttoned a couple of buttons to see where she was bruised. I sure didn't do anything to insult Helene; I wanted to help her."

"I know that, son. Calm down."

"If Doc tells her Uncle that, he'll expect me to marry Helene, and you know as sure as sin I can't marry nobody. I don't even know my real name, damn it!"

"We can do some digging, Whitey, and find the answers," Matt offered.

"No." The answer was firm and final, and then Whitey said, "I got work to do." He stomped from the room and a few seconds later the front door slammed.

While they waited for the Doctor to come downstairs, Rob told Matt about the shooting in the saloon. Matt was clearly upset, but knew that Rob was doing everything in his power to figure out who was behind the plan to kill Rob. "I think it best if I refrain from seeing Amanda right now, sir. I will not put her in danger, and that is precisely what I am doing when I take her riding, or into town for a meal, or to a dance. It is not safe for her to be with me."

"She is in love with you, Rob."

"I feel the same about her, Matt. That is why I cannot put her in danger. I would rather have her think my feelings for her have changed than tell her the truth. She fears nothing."