The Independent Bride (26 page)

Abby couldn’t suppress a smile. “Moriah would faint before she’d touch a gun. I’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked out into the trading post. “Where is he?”

“Over there, looking at the new rifles. You think he wants to buy some? I don’t think murderers ought to be allowed to have guns.”

“Then they’d be at the mercy of anyone else who did. Do you think that would be fair?”

“I guess not,” Dorrie said, clearly not convinced in her heart, regardless of what her brain might tell her.

“What’s his name?”

“Tibbott. Russ Tibbolt. I think you ought to send for Colonel McGregor.”

“The beef contract is my responsibility. I’ll deal with it myself.” She crossed the room to where the guns were displayed. “Mr. Tibbolt?”

The man who turned to face her was nothing like what she expected. About the same height as Bryce, he was built along more slender, even lankier lines, which made it easier to see the evidence of muscles in his shoulders and arms. Much to her surprise, he was handsome, neat, and clean-shaven. She didn’t know why she expected a killer to be ugly, slovenly, even dirty.

“I’m Abigail Pierce. I understand you wanted to talk to me about my beef contract.”

“I hear you need someone to deliver fifty head of beef to the Indian reservation,” he said, coming right to the point. “I can, but it’ll cost you fourteen dollars a head on delivery.”

“I’ve been getting them for eight.”

“You don’t have anybody to deliver your beef,” he said. “I could have asked even more, and you’d have had to pay it if you wanted to keep the contract.” His eyes were cold, his expression neutral, his stance relaxed and casual. He had her over a barrel and he knew it.

“If you’re going to rob me by upping your price, why don’t you just withhold your beef, let me fail, then bid for the contract yourself?”

“Most people cheat the Indians. You don’t. Besides, I don’t have enough beef to fulfill the contract myself on a regular basis. My neighbors don’t like me and won’t sell me as much as a maverick calf. I’m sure your assistant has told you I’m a killer and an ex-con. I have to pay my hands higher wages than most. That makes it more expensive for me to be in business. Fourteen dollars seems reasonable. You get half the profit and I get the other.”

He might be a killer, but he was also a cold, hard businessman.

“There’s the added risk of delivering the beef. Someone doesn’t want you to succeed. I expect they’ll try to stop me.”

“I’ll speak to Bryce… Colonel McGregor. I’m sure he’ll send some men with you.”

“Thanks, but my men can handle it. You just worry about who you’re going to get to deliver beef the next month.” He turned to leave.

“Don’t you want a signed agreement?” Abby asked.

“No, ma’am. I trust you,” he said over his shoulder.

“I’ve never seen anyone so rude and abrupt,” Dorrie exclaimed after he left.

“If he can deliver the beef, I don’t care how he acts,” Abby said. Her profit had been reduced, but she had another month of breathing space.

“I don’t know why I never thought you’d have parties at an army fort,” Abby said to Dorrie and her husband. “I guess I thought you’d be off fighting all the time.”

“We have parties to keep from going crazy,” Dorrie said. “There’s nothing to do in a place like this.”

That might be true for the wives of the officers, but it wasn’t true for Abby. It seemed she and Moriah never had enough time to do all the work necessary to run the trading post. She couldn’t imagine how her father had managed alone. Abby and Moriah had moved back to their quarters after two nights. Pamela had cried, but it couldn’t be helped. Abby had been beginning to like staying there far too much.

“Where did you ever find a band?”

“There are always men who can play at any fort,” Dome’s husband said. “They’re happy to do it for the extra money.”

The orchestra was a grab bag of the available players and instruments—a fiddle, two trumpets, a trombone, a flute, and a piano one of the wives had had shipped from Denver. Abby thought the ensemble was more suited to play marches than dance tunes. The trumpet players were two of the fort buglers. They played like it, too.

“I’m sorry Colonel McGregor couldn’t be here,” Dorrie said. “He’s a marvelous dancer.”

“The ladies stand in line to dance with him,” Dome’s husband said.

“That’s because the rest of you can’t keep from stepping on our toes. Our slippers don’t give us much protection.”

Dorrie wore embroidered silk, slippers. Abby couldn’t afford anything so pretty or fragile.

“Lieutenant Collier seems to be an adequate substitute,” Abby said.

“He dances well enough,” Dorrie said. “But he’s not as tall or as handsome as the colonel.”

“Nor as rich and socially prominent,” her husband finished for her. “The things a woman looks for in a man.”

“That’s not all we want,” Dorrie said.

But Abby was sure Bryce was superior in that department, too.

“I brought you some punch,” Pamela announced. She was coming toward Abby with slow, deliberate steps to keep from spilling the liquid that sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the cup. “Sarah’s momma said I couldn’t have any. She said it was a wine cup.”

Abby rescued the cup from Pamela. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“I wish Daddy was here. It’s no fun without him.”

“I’m sure Abby thinks so,” Dorrie said with a wink.

That had been happening more and more since the break-in at the store. Apparently Collier had made it his business to tell everyone how worried Bryce had been about her, how he’d sat next to her on the sofa, his arm around her, forcing her to sip brandy until she could regain control of her feelings. There was no hiding the fact that he’d brought her back to his house or posted sentries at the trading post. Abby kept telling everyone he was just as worried about Moriah as about her, but no one appeared to believe her.

And Moriah didn’t help matters by muttering
Stuff and nonsense!
She’d been less communicative than ever, more diligent in her work, as if she was determined to live in her own little world. Abby had done her best to talk her sister into coming to the dance tonight, but she’d refused point blank. Even telling Moriah the party was for both of them proved futile.

“If they want to see me, they can come to the store,” Moriah had said.

Abby had looked forward to the gathering. She hadn’t been to a party in so long she’d almost forgotten what it was like. She was looking forward to dancing with handsome men and forgetting her troubles for at least a few hours. Bryce’s being called away at the last minute was a disappointment, but she was determined to show everyone she could enjoy the party without him. As much as she liked Bryce, as much as she enjoyed his company, as much as she might wish their relationship could grow into something more meaningful, she knew there was no future in it. She had made her up mind to enjoy his friendship while it lasted, to take advantage of his help as long as it was offered, but with the understanding that it would end soon.

“We’ll all have to get along without the colonel when he goes back East,” Abby said, “so we might as well get in a little practice now.”

“Nobody wants him to go,” Dorrie said. “I know I shouldn’t do anything so mean, but I keep praying he won’t get his promotion.”

“Who’s getting a promotion?” a voice behind Abby asked.

“Daddy!” Pamela exclaimed excitedly.

Chapter Sixteen

Abby felt her breath catch in her throat. She forced herself to wait a moment before turning around to face Bryce.

“I thought you were miles away,” Dorrie said.

“It was a false alarm,” Bryce replied. “A farmer saw Indians crossing his land and was sure they’d come to murder him and his family. He didn’t know his homestead sat astride a major travel route from the winter campgrounds—or care that it was on reservation land. Is all the dancing over?”

“Not at all,” Dorrie said. “We won’t stop for hours yet.”

“Lieutenant Collier said he was going to steal all the ladies from you,” Pamela said to her father. “I told him you’d put him in jail if he stole even one.”

Pamela wasn’t happy when everyone laughed.

“I’m here to make sure he doesn’t,” Bryce said. “And I’ll begin by stealing Abby away from him.”

“He never stole Abby,” Pamela announced. “She said she didn’t want to dance.”

“I hope you’ve changed your mind,” Bryce said to Abby.

“You ought to dance with the other ladies first,” Abby said.

“You’re the only unattached female in the room,” Dorrie pointed out, “plus being the guest of honor.”

“In that case it would be downright rude not to dance with you,” Bryce said.

Abby was acutely aware that many eyes around the room watched everything Bryce did. She was also aware that many would attach undue meaning to the fact that he’d managed to get back from a patrol in time for the dance, something that had never been a priority with him before. And that he had chosen Abby as his first partner.

“I’m honored,” Abby said.

“Sarah’s momma says the man is supposed to say he’s honored,” Pamela informed them. “The lady is supposed to smile, say ‘Thank you,’ and offer him her hand.”

“I don’t know what we’d do without Sarah’s mother to tell us how to behave,” Dorrie muttered between clenched teeth.

“You’ve got to do it right,” Pamela prompted.

Bryce grinned and executed a half bow. “I’m honored, milady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Abby said, extending her hand.

“Did we do that right?” Bryce asked Pamela.

“You did it perfectly,” Dorrie said impatiently. “Now start dancing before she remembers something else Sarah’s mother said.”

As nervous as Abby was about dancing with Bryce with everyone watching her, she couldn’t repress a smile. “I didn’t know Pamela was so interested in manners,” she said to Bryce.

“She wasn’t until I suggested she ask Sarah’s mother how she should behave.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“You wouldn’t think so if you’d grown up encumbered by so many rules it took you years to learn them all. One of the reasons I joined the army was to get away from all that.”

“The army has even more rules.”

“They’re to make everything work better, to help the soldiers survive.”

“I expect society developed its rules for the same reason.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but after spending half the day in the saddle on a senseless errand, I don’t have the patience to discuss it. Let’s dance and forget society and homesteaders.”

This wasn’t the first time Bryce had put his arms around her, but it seemed momentous tonight. She didn’t know whether it was the whispers she’d been hearing or the fact that he was holding her in public. Whatever the reason, her skin was exquisitely sensitive to his touch. A physical desire for him descended on her like a wall of floodwater, drenching her with desire and washing away nearly all her control.

“Maybe you should write some instructions that can be handed out to new settlers when they arrive,” she said, determined to take her mind off her body’s reaction to Bryce’s nearness, desperate to keep anyone from guessing how powerfully his holding her in his arms affected her.

“I don’t want to talk about it tonight. I just want to enjoy dancing with you.”

She wanted to talk about
anything
rather than think about dancing with him.

“A rancher walked into the store today and offered to supply the beef for the reservation this month. I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

“I’m glad the ranchers finally gave in. Which one was it?”

“Russ Tibbolt.”

Bryce stiffened. “He’s an ex-con. He served time for murder.”

“Dorrie told me, but I don’t care about that as long as he delivers the beef.”

Bryce pulled back far enough to look her in the eye. “You’ve got to be careful. You don’t know what a man like Tibbolt might do.”

“I don’t have to see him again except to pay him. Besides, if he’s paid his debt to society, I don’t see why I shouldn’t do business with him as well as anyone else.”

“Let me know when he comes for his money. I’d like to be there.”

He’d pulled her close again. Knowing he was determined to protect her caused the physical attraction to leap up another notch. Much more and she’d have to leave before she did something scandalous.

Like what? Cover his face with kisses? Throw him on the floor and attack him?

Abby couldn’t believe these thoughts had entered her mind. It was as if another woman had taken over her body, was supplying ideas that kept flying about like a plague of demons. This wasn’t the real Abby. She’d never even thought anything like this about Albert, and she’d thought she was in love with him.

Could she be in love with Bryce?

Of course not. Her emotions were still raw from Albert’s betrayal. It was only natural she would lean on a strong and capable man, would feel attracted to him when he showed an interest in her. The fact that he was extremely handsome and understanding only made the attraction more inevitable.