The Kissing Tree (23 page)

He laughed harshly.

“Nice try, sweet thing. Even if they’re lookin’ for us, they’ll be lookin’ for horse tracks not a wagon. Who robs a bank with a wagon? They’ll not be findin’ us, at least not tonight.” He moved his face even closer to hers and put the knife to her neck. “No one’s going to save you from me tonight.”

Slipping the blade underneath the sleeve of her dress and camisole, he cut through the fabric. The dress slipped away, exposing her shoulder. He groaned, and she felt his lips upon her skin. Georgiana’s flesh began to crawl, and she instinctively began to struggle violently. Her efforts to free herself earned her the knife once again pressed to her neck. Fear overtook her then, fear intertwined with hopelessness. The tears finally let loose as she was about to sacrifice all.

No, she would rather die than give in to him.

As she opened her mouth to scream, she heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back. The man froze.

“Lay another hand on that girl, and you won’t see the light of day.” Though Georgiana could not see her, she could hear it was Cordelia. “Now, get up and get out of the wagon!” Slash stood up reluctantly, his hand gripping his knife viciously. “Slowly, now . . . don’t give me any excuse to pull this trigger. You of all people know how much pleasure that would give me.”

Slash slowly climbed down the side of the wagon. He was seething. Georgiana could see his breath steaming the air in short, harsh spurts, but he didn’t say a word, only glared at Cordelia hatefully. His look seemed to goad her on.

“Oh, come on now, Jake,” Cordelia said. “I’m actually quite surprised you resorted to such brutal tactics. You usually pride yourself on being able to sugar-talk a woman into your bed. Are you losing your touch?”

When he answered her, his voice was barely in control. “Watch it, Cordelia.”

She did not heed his warning.

“Seems to me, I gave very specific instructions that none of you were to lay your hands on these women. Yet here you are.” She shoved the muzzle of the gun closer to his chest.

“I couldn’t let a good thing go to waste, now could I? Not just because you’re . . . ,” he paused and forced a step closer to Cordelia, ignoring the gun, “jealous perhaps?”

Cordelia’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jake! You’re no more than a lowlife, scum-suckin’ leech that gets his kicks preyin’ on innocent women. I was a fool not to see it the first day I laid eyes on you. Now . . .” Georgiana watched Cordelia instinctively and protectively place her hand across her abdomen. Immediately she knew. “Now . . .” The mask of anger on the woman’s face faltered for a moment, and Georgiana caught a glimpse of hurt and fear, but she quickly recovered. “Now you get back in the cabin and don’t ever even think of crossing my instructions again, not if you want your share of the money, anyway.” She looked him directly in the eyes. “If you can’t live with that,” she added, nodding to one of the horses tied up to a nearby tree, “you can get on that horse over there and ride out of here.”

“Why you—”

“As a matter of fact,” she continued, reaching down, picking up a bag that lay at her feet, and tossing it to him, “you can leave right now whether you want to or not.”

“Why you little—” Jake seethed. “This isn’t even a fourth of what we agreed on.”

Georgiana’s heart sped up as the heat of the conversation escalated.

“You’re lucky I’m givin’ you anything. I’ve decided you have other things you need to help pay for.”

Georgiana knew what she referred to, but the man seemed clueless.

“Why, you greedy little—”

Before Georgiana knew what was happening, she saw a glint of a knife as Slash lunged forward. The shotgun fired, and he slumped to the ground. Cordelia stared at his lifeless body for a moment, not moving.

Abruptly turning to Georgiana, Cordelia shouted, “You! Get back in the cabin!” Georgiana quickly scrambled out of the wagon. “And don’t you try anything, or you’ll join him.” She motioned with her gun to the dead man lying before her.

Hurrying toward the door, Georgiana looked back once more just in time to catch the painful look that crossed Cordelia’s face. She had just shot and killed the father of her child. Unexpectedly, Cordelia looked up to meet Georgiana’s eyes. Georgiana couldn’t keep the look of sympathy from off her face. Cordelia looked puzzled for a moment, and then a knowing look came to her eyes as she realized Georgiana knew her secret.

“It wouldn’t have made a difference to him had he known. He would never have changed.” Giving the man one last look, she added, “It’s better this way.”

Georgiana turned away, unable to look at the woman’s haunted face any longer, and went the rest of the way into the cabin. Cordelia followed.

When Georgiana came through the door, she straightway looked over to Samantha. Samantha was sitting up straight, eyes wide with fear. Georgiana hurried over to her friend and put her arms around her shaking body.

“Georgiana . . . I thought.” Tears began coursing down Samantha’s face, and Georgiana tried to soothe her.

“Shhh, it’s all right . . . I’m all right,” she reassured her friend.

“But your face, your dress—what happened?”

It was then Georgiana remembered the cut on her face, and her hand went to her cheek. The cut was not deep, and the blood had stopped and already begun to dry. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what had almost occurred. If Cordelia hadn’t shown up, she would have been far worse off, maybe even dead.

“I’m all right. It’s just a surface cut,” Georgiana spoke soothingly, trying to calm Samantha down. She couldn’t help but look over at Cordelia.

Cordelia was watching them, and when their eyes met, Georgiana mouthed the words “thank you.” The woman still had some decency left. Cordelia nodded her head, turned away, and yelled at the two sleeping men.

“Gil, Wyatt!” she shouted. The men did not move. “Get up!” she yelled again. Georgiana couldn’t believe the two had slept through the sound of the gunshot. When the men still didn’t move, Cordelia walked over and gave each man a swift kick with her boot. “I said, get up!”

Both men sat up groggily and rubbed their backsides.

“What was that for?” Gil complained.

“That’s for not gettin’ up when I hollered at you,” Cordelia shouted angrily.

“Ya know we can’t hear hardly nothin’ since we did all that dynamite blastin’ for the railroad last summer,” Wyatt groaned.

“Yeah . . . ya don’t need to treat us that way,” Gil added. “Uncle Carl’s gonna hear about—”

“Quit whinin’. My pa’s not here and we’ve got to get movin’,” Cordelia informed them. Straightaway, both men complained again.

“Thought we weren’t leavin’ ’til sun up,” Wyatt moaned. “We still got us a couple of hours.”

“Wyatt’s right. ’Sides, we’ve barely been asleep an hour,” Gil added.

“Well, we can’t wait until sun up. What you boys didn’t hear with those deaf ears of yours was the shotgun,” Cordelia said, her face a stone mask.

“Shotgun?” Both boys hopped to their feet at once.

“Who fired a gun?” Gil looked around for a moment. “And where’s Slash?”

Cordelia ignored their questions, went to the backroom, and then started bringing out bags of money and setting them by the door.

“We’ve got to get out of here now. Though you may not have heard that shotgun, if the posse did, they’ll be after us in no time.” The boys were still standing dumbfounded, so she began to give them specific orders.

“Gil, go hitch up the wagon . . . and drag the body into the bushes behind the cabin.”

“The what?” Gil asked incredulously.

She ignored him and went on.

“Wyatt, tie up that girl’s hands again,” she motioned toward Georgiana, “and get them loaded in the wagon. Then come back in and help me carry the money out.” She headed to the bedroom.

“How did ya get untied?” Wyatt looked at Georgiana accusingly. Georgiana paid him no heed.

Neither of the boys made any motion to get moving. So Cordelia turned back around and put her foot on the edge of the feeble table and shoved hard, knocking it over to get their attention. Samantha jumped in Georgiana’s arms.

“If you boys don’t want to find yourselves in jail or hangin’ from a tree come mornin’, you’d better start movin’!”

“But I thought we were leavin’ them here.” He looked at Georgiana and Samantha.

“Plans have changed, boys. We no longer have the upper hand. We’re going to need those two for insurance purposes.” She glared at Georgiana when she said it as if to say, “That’s the only reason I came to your rescue.” But Georgiana knew the reason had been different. She no longer feared for their lives as long as they cooperated. She just hoped no one else would have to die.

Ridge knew they were getting closer. They found the fresh tracks about an hour ago. Once he’d finally put two and two together and figured out who they were chasing, it had been easy. The sheriff and Mr. Wallace had a hard time believing it was a woman who had orchestrated the carefully planned bank robbery, but after questioning them why she’d been hanging out at the bank so much, and why she’d moved back in the first place, they agreed it was suspicious. When Ridge told them how he’d come upon Cordelia leaving town in a wagon and heard what he now realized was in truth a gun being cocked, they had been convinced enough to change courses and look for fresh wagon tracks instead of horse tracks. Most bank robbers would have hauled out of town like hellfire and ridden all night, but Cordelia seemed to have another plan. What really worried him was the time that had been wasted before he’d realized who and what they were lookin’ for.

It was dark, which made following tracks difficult. He and Mr. Wallace rode slightly ahead of the others, stopping often and double-checking that they were still headed in the right direction.

When the wagon tracks veered off and headed up a small path toward the mountains, Ridge remembered that Cordelia’s father used to own a hunting cabin not too far up the first steep incline. They’d be there before daylight.

Knowing they would come upon the cabin soon, his fear intensified. What if they had already hurt Georgiana or Samantha? Ridge glanced over at the lines of worry and fear etched into Mr. Wallace’s face. He imagined he wore a similar look.

He was glad now that the sheriff had insisted Dawson ride alongside his deputy since he had little experience with such matters as bank robbers and posses. Dawson had been grateful to come along at all. Ridge was glad he didn’t have to look into the worried face of Dawson the whole way. Let the sheriff deal with him.

They’d convinced Angus to stay at the ranch in case, for some miraculous reason, they’d been wrong and Georgiana or Samantha showed up there. It was a hard thing for Angus to agree to, and Ridge felt guilty insisting, but Angus’s eyesight had worsened considerably over the last few years. He would be worried about the man tracking in the dark, and Ridge already had enough to worry about.

A vision of Georgiana in blue, smiling, came to his forethoughts. He remembered how his heart rate increased by her touch as she had placed her hand on his earlier that evening, thanking him for finding her father’s medallion, and again when they’d danced.
Please God, keep her safe,
he prayed,
and help us find them soon.

He could not lose her again.

When a gunshot went off, Ridge felt a jolt go through his entire body. He looked over to Samantha’s father and saw his fear mirrored in the man’s eyes. The two men increased their pace dramatically and moved even further ahead of the other men in the posse.

When at last they reached the cabin, it was deserted. Mr. Wallace looked around outside, and Ridge went into the cabin. A fire still burned in the fireplace, and a table lay on its side. The outlaws had left in a hurry. As Ridge walked around the cabin, he spotted another blue ribbon lying on the floor by the far wall. He bent down to pick it up. She was trying to leave a trail to let them know where they’d been. Mr. Wallace entered the cabin and began talking.

“There’s another way down the mountain with fresh tracks off to the east, and . . . I found a body in the bushes behind the cabin.”

Ridge swung around to look Mr. Wallace in the face as his heart started to pound. Mr. Wallace immediately shook his head.

“It wasn’t one of them, but I think I know the man.” He paused and shook his head again. “Well, at least I thought I did. A man who looked like him came into the bank last Monday, called himself by the name of Winslow Thurston Applegate III. Said he was plannin’ on movin’ out this way. Told me he’d sold a very profitable cattle ranch down in Texas and was wonderin’ how the banking worked around these parts. He wanted to know whether we kept all our money here or transferred some of it to the Denver Bank. Asked how often the Wells Fargo stage came through. I’m afraid I may have given out too much information.”

“Well, what worries me right now is that they’re fightin’ among themselves. We need to find them immediately!” Ridge hurried out of the cabin and to his horse. Mr. Wallace followed close behind. As the sheriff and the rest of the posse rode up, Ridge announced to Samantha’s father, “I’m ridin’ on ahead. Show the sheriff the body and tell him what you know about the man and then catch up with me.”

Ridge mounted his horse and headed off in the direction the wagon had gone, nodding to the sheriff as he passed by but purposely avoiding Dawson’s stare.

He was worried. Who had done the shooting and why? The wagon was less than an hour ahead. If he hurried and caught up to them before the sun came up, he might have an advantage.

He rode hard. Scenes from the previous day flew through his mind: Georgiana’s feet dangling in the creek while she ran her fingers though her hair; watching her dance around the deserted social hall hand in hand with Samantha; waltzing as close as he dared at the dance while staring into her eyes. He could stare into them forever. He loved her. He had always loved her—from girlish braids and ponytails with ribbons dangling to the beautiful, full-grown, remarkable woman she was now. Nothing could change the fact that his heart belonged to her. Her memory had never relinquished its hold on him, and when she had returned, only then did his heart begin to truly beat once more.

His thoughts quickly changed to the conversation he had with her grandfather just before he had left for the dance.

Angus had wandered up to the creek, still in hopes of catchin’ a trout or two for his dinner. Ridge figured it was as good a place as any to finish the conversation they had begun earlier, so he’d gone after him to talk.

When he spotted Angus, he was sitting on the far side in almost the exact spot that had become Ridge’s favorite. Obviously the man had better luck there too.

Ridge made his way up the creek, crossed over the bridge, and meandered his way back down to where Angus sat with his eyes closed leaning up against a tree. For a minute, Ridge considered whether the older man might be asleep, but when he sat down only a few feet away, Angus immediately acknowledged his presence.

“Evenin’, Ridge.”

“Evenin’, Angus.”

“Was wonderin’ when ye would be comin’ around,” Angus commented.

“Been expectin’ me, have you?” Ridge asked.

“Fer sure and fer certain, I was. Knew ye had a bite to settle with me yet tonight.”

“Yes . . . well . . .” Now that Ridge was sitting next to Angus, he couldn’t hardly bring himself to chastise the man.

“Suppose I should be apologizin’ fer earlier. But I can’t bring meself to do it.” He opened one eye and looked up at Ridge, then closed it again. “Ya know how I feel about the two of ye.”

“Yes, and you know how I feel about you interferin’.”

“Aye, I do lad, but I just can’t help meself. I’m an old man now, stubborn and set in me ways. Just a lookin’ out fer me granddaughter, I am. Wantin’ her to have a happy life, like the likes of me and me Shannon, filled with love and lots of laughter. Now that there Dawson fella is a good lad, but I know me girl is not in love with him.” Angus peeked out of one eye again. “Just as surely as I know she’s powerful in love with ye.” He closed his eye again and continued talking. “The lad had a talk with me today. Told me he had already asked me granddaughter to marry him. Said tonight he was goin’ to be askin’ fer her answer.” Angus squirmed uncomfortably. “He up and asks me what I thought she’d be tellin’ him.” Angus let out an exasperated sigh. “Will ya believe that? Him askin’ me such a question? Now how was I to be answerin’ that, lad? I may know what’s in me girl’s heart, but I never know what’s goin’ to come out of her mouth.” Both men chuckled.

“So what did ya say?” Ridge finally asked.

“Told him the same Irish tale I told ye about a month past. Seemed to ponder on it fer a while. Then he tells me if her answer ain’t yes or she doesn’t give him a bit of hope at least, he’d be leavin’ in the mornin’ fer town. Thanked me fer me hospitality.” Angus was silent for a moment, and Ridge figured he was finished, but he spoke again. “If ye were to be askin’ me, I think the lad knows her heart is belongin’ to another.” He added, “Can’t blame him now, fer not wantin’ ta give up.”

The talk had encouraged Ridge at first, but knowing Dawson was going to speak marriage to Georgiana again had made him nervous. He had watched and waited for them to arrive at the social, and when they had been late, he’d wondered whether they had spoken before they’d arrived. When she and Dawson had danced, he knew the conversation had been serious and intimate in nature. If only he knew how Georgiana truly felt toward the man. Could Angus be right that she wasn’t in love with Dawson? If he was right about that, did that mean there was hope for him?

Suddenly, a sound in front of him drew him from his musings and commanded his full attention. He could hear voices less than a quarter mile up the road. He brought his horse to an abrupt halt and dismounted. Tying Storm to a tree, he withdrew his rifle and crept forward in the brush.

He spotted the wagon off to one side of the road. One of the wheels had lost its iron rim, and two men were sitting on the far side of the wagon, desperately trying to repair it.

“You’re doin’ that wrong,” the first man complained.

“Am not,” said the second.

“Sure are. When did ya ever learn to fix a wagon wheel, anyway? What makes you so smart?” the first man continued.

“ ’Cause I saw someone do it once . . . sort of,” the second man bragged.

“Here, give it ta me. You’re as blind as ya are deaf,” the first man said, trying to take over the repair.

Ignoring the two men’s bickering, Ridge looked around. He could see Georgiana and Samantha huddled together in the back of the wagon under a small blanket. A huge wave of relief passed over him that they seemed to be unharmed. Scanning the area further, he could not see Cordelia. Nor was he certain there weren’t any others around. It made him uneasy. He wished he at least knew where Cordelia had gone.

In the next instant, he got his answer when he felt the barrel of a gun shoved between his shoulder blades.

“Drop the gun, Ridge, and don’t think about trying anything stupid. I’ve already shot one man dead today.”

So it was Cordelia who shot the man at the cabin,
Ridge thought as he carefully laid his gun down and stood up slowly.

“So who was the man you shot?”

“No one of any consequence . . . at least not anymore . . . now move!” she commanded, shoving the gun deeper into his back to prod him forward.

Ridge watched curiously as the sound of their footsteps went unnoticed by the two still arguing over how to fix the wagon wheel.

“If ya do that, we ain’t never gonna get out of here,” the second man criticized.

“Well, if ya’d quit lookin’ over my shoulder, I might get somethin’ done. You’re makin’ me nervous,” said the first, who had taken over.

“Shut up, you two,” Cordelia yelled. The two men turned to her and seemed quite surprised to see Ridge standing there at gunpoint. “Can’t you boys do anything right? I leave you here to take a look around, and when I come back, look who I find in the bushes aiming a gun at you.” She looked from one man to the other. “I’m surprised the women didn’t get the better of you two while I was away.”

“We didn’t hear . . . ,” the first man started, defending himself as he eyed Ridge.

“Course you didn’t—you’re both half deaf, but if you’d stop fighting and look around every once in a while, you might notice a man with a gun in the bushes behind you!” Neither man said a word in his defense as she glared at them. “Just get that wheel fixed so we can get out of here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said together and turned back to the wheel.

Ridge looked over at Georgiana and Samantha. Both girls looked relieved to see him despite his being at the wrong end of a gun.

“Now you,” Cordelia said, motioning to Ridge, “sit down right there and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Ridge sat down in the middle of the road and laid his arms across his bent knees in front of him. Cordelia stood a few feet away from him, the gun still pointed at his chest.

“Who came with you?” she demanded.

“No one. I came alone,” Ridge answered.

“Do you expect me to believe that?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Believe what ya want, but I came alone. When I told the sheriff I thought it was you who had robbed the bank and I had seen ya leavin’ in a wagon, he about laughed me out of town.” He looked Cordelia straight in the eyes and hoped he was believable. “They’re off chasing a band of imaginary outlaws on horseback.”

By the smug look on Cordelia’s face, he knew she believed him. When he glanced over at Georgiana, she turned her face slightly to meet his eyes directly. It was the first time he’d noticed the dried blood on her face. His anger ignited immediately. Who had cut her and why?

“Well,” Cordelia began, “you were wise to come alone. If you’d come ridin’ up in a blaze of fury, guns firin’, as you men so often like to do, there’s no tellin’ who might have got shot.” Cordelia glanced toward Georgiana to make her point clear.

“If she gets hurt,” Ridge said, swallowing hard and speaking between clenched teeth, “more than she already has . . .” He paused to get a grip on his anger, then continued, “Or if ya harm Samantha, I can promise you will regret the day ya ever met me, Miss Cordelia Jamison.”

“Ooh, is that a threat?” She gave him a pointed look. “For your information, it wasn’t me who cut the face of your little lovely, and . . .” She paused, considering whether she should continue, then daringly added, “You might like to know, he had much bigger, more carnal designs for her.”

Ridge’s heart pounded, and his anger rose again.

“I can tell by the way you look right now, you’d like to kill the man.” Cordelia stared at him a moment and gave a hollow laugh. “Well, I already beat ya to it.”

“You want me to thank you. Is that why you’re tellin’ me this?”