The Texan's Bride (25 page)

Branch winced as the prisoner fell back into unconsciousness. Damn, who the hell does this fool Trident think he is, interrogating prisoners in such a manner?

Strickland spoke from the doorway. “That boy didn’t hold out more’n five minutes. I’m afraid he’ll never make it in Texas.”

Branch looked over his shoulder. “Trident did this? Why? You’re the sheriff, why aren’t you in charge of such things?”

The sheriff simply shrugged. “It’s Regulator business, Kincaid. I may not like it, but I’ve nothing to do with it. I take orders just like you.”

Branch picked up the trap and examined it, then tossed it aside. The clank of it hitting the wood reverberated through him. He stood and faced Strickland. “Does he do this often? This Trident sounds like a Texian Torquemada.”

The sheriff’s blue eyes hardened. “I suggest you not state opinions concerning things of which you know nothing, Kincaid. A man could end up hurt that way.”

Branch knelt beside the prisoner and laid the damaged hand gently across the boy’s chest. “Did Trident get what he needed from him, or does this child have more of this fun ahead?”

“Oh, he got his information. You’ll see, Kincaid, that Trident always gets what he wants.”

NOT FAR from the Platte River in Indian Territory, beneath the glare of a brilliant sun, Dances In The Night approached the boy who sat sobbing at the base of a gnarled oak tree. The day was warm, the air sweet and clean, but bitterness filled the man. He laid a hand on the youngster’s shoulder and hunkered down beside him.

“It’s not fair!” the boy whimpered.

“I know, Daniel. It is not fair. But then, such is the manner of life.” Anguish twisted the Cherokee’s face. “I loved him also. Your father filled a place in my heart that now aches in emptiness.”

“I don’t love him—I hate him! He was stupid. A stupid idiot. Coming here, going to that village and never taking the vaccination. He asked for it to happen. Well, I don’t care. I’m glad he’s dead!”

Shaddoe’s fierce shove sent Daniel sprawling. He loomed over the boy, his blood thundering like stampeding buffaloes. He grabbed Daniel’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Never speak of John Gallagher in such a manner again. I will beat you.”

Shaddoe pulled back. He leaned against the tree, teeth clenched and breathing heavily. Reaching above, he yanked at a pencil-thin limb, tearing it from the tree. He stripped the leaves one by one and tossed them to the ground. Heaving a long sigh, he apologized. “Forgive me, Daniel. My grief controlled my actions.” He kicked at a leaf with his moccasin and continued, “He was dying. He knew it. He told me of the great pain eating him from within. Could you not read his face and see the agony he lived? Did you not notice the skin shrink around his bones?”

Daniel sat up, frowning. “What do you mean, Shaddoe?”

“He coughed blood, Daniel, had for some time. He was dying slowly and with pain. When he saw a way he could help others, he welcomed the risk involved. Your father died bravely and with honor.” Shaddoe stared straight ahead. “Grieve, but be proud.”

Daniel’s jaw dropped, and tears flowed from his haunted eyes. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t he tell me? He should have seen a doctor!”

“His choice,” Shaddoe replied. “He wanted his days with you unspoiled. Remember the joy of the times, Daniel. That is what John wanted.”

The boy wrapped his hands around his knees and lowered his head. Shaddoe tore a second limb from the tree and ripped at the leaves until he realized what he was doing. Disgusted with himself, he flung the limb away, frowning at the green stain on his fingers.

In a tremulous voice, Daniel asked, “Shaddoe, what’s going to happen now? To me and Keeper, I mean.”

Shaddoe sat beside Daniel. He sat cross-legged and absently smoothed the soft fringe on his leggins. Waiting until the grieving boy looked up at him, he captured his gaze and stated, “Your choice. Your father requested it be so. You know of my plans; I shall return to Texas and finish what was begun there. If you wish to come with me, I will take steps to insure your safety from those who would hold the vaccine theft against you.” His lips tightened at the thought. “But if you wish to remain here, with the Cherokees, know that you are more than welcome. I have spoken to the others, and they have assured me that the one who stole the jar of life-medicine will always have a home among The People.”

“Keeper too?”

Shaddoe smiled. “Do you have a doubt?” Keeper McShane reigned as hero: the one whose body made health magic. He could live with honor among the Cherokee till the end of his days, and he gloried in the attention he received.

“They don’t mind my hand,” Daniel said after a time.

Shaddoe nodded, his hearing tuned to the
coo, coo, coo
, of a mourning dove. Daniel was stronger now, having proved himself among The People. This would be a good place for him.

Daniel’s brow knotted in thought. “What about Katie, though?” he asked. “We can’t just desert her—she’s waiting for us to come home. I have to go tell her about Da.”

“I can bear that burden, Daniel. You need not worry. And remember, she is not your responsibility; Branch Kincaid now has that honor. He gave his word.”

Shaddoe shrugged and the beads on his fringed tunic rattled. “Know that I will watch over your sister, Daniel. Kathleen will have so many people protecting her that she will despise it. And my first act upon my return will be to make sure Branch Kincaid is treating our Kathleen properly.”

Daniel heaved a sigh. “I don’t know. When will you leave?”

“Soon. I cannot leave this situation unattended for much longer. I cannot allow the sacrifice to be an empty one.”

Daniel stood and dusted the dirt from his pants. He wiped the wetness from his face. When he straightened his spine, a young man stood in place of the boy. “I’ll stay. I can learn so much from the Cherokees.”

Shaddoe rose to his feet and nodded solemnly. “Very well. I shall miss you, Daniel Gallagher, my brother. I shall speak to Keeper, but I have no doubt he, too, will remain.” He offered his left hand, and Daniel grasped it firmly.

As Shaddoe walked away, he heard Daniel Gallagher say, “Da, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, you know.” His voice was soft, but strong. “Goodbye, Da.”

ALONE IN her room at Gallagher’s, Katie Kincaid stared at her reflection in a mirror and stifled a sob. Freckles. Fine. So she had a few freckles. And true, her eyes were more often red than blue these days. But her hair wasn’t too bad, she felt confident of that much. And the bosom that had affected him so from the very beginning still sat right there on her chest.

“Then why?” she asked herself. Tears rolled down her face. If wounded pride was a terminal condition, she lay at death’s door. Her husband didn’t want her.

He not only didn’t want her, he’d rejected her. Twice. Two separate times he’d made love to her, taken her as his own, and then slapped her pride and her feminine senses by shutting her out of his life. Only this time he’d not simply sent her away, he’d up and abandoned her!

Just when she’d figured out that she loved him.

“Honey child,” Martha called as she knocked on the door, “are you all right?”

“No, I don’t think I am.”

Martha was beside her in a minute. “What is it, sweetkins?”

Katie sniffed. “Oh, Martha. I have such a problem.”

“Tell ol’ Martha all about it, dearling,” the widow said as she gave Katie a comforting hug.

“I don’t think I can. It’s so personal.”

“I see.” Martha frowned and heaved a heavy sigh. “Katie, my dear, how old were you when you mother passed on?”

Curious, Katie looked at her. “Nine.”

Martha nodded. “I’ll bet she never got around to explaining to you about men, did she?”

Katie shook her head.

“Honey child, there is something you need to know. Us women have to stick together, especially when it comes to dealing with men. They’ll just ride roughshod all over us if we allow it, and it’s up to each of us to share the tricks of preventing that from happening. Now, I can help you, dear. Tell me what that scapegrace Branch has done, other than disappearing’ into town for two weeks, that is.”

Tears rolled down Katie’s face. “Oh, Martha, why is it I always let you see me cry?”

“Oh, baby, tears are just another one of the secrets women have that men haven’t discovered yet. You go ahead and cry, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You know you’ll feel better afterward.”

“But tears don’t change anything, Martha, I’ll still be awful at it after I cry!”

“Awful at what, darlin’?”

Katie sniffled twice and said, “Sex.”

Martha’s eyebrows climbed to the top of her forehead. “You! Why I don’t believe it. You get passionate about the weather, Katie Kincaid. Now, how did you ever get such a stupid idea? Never mind, I just answered my own question. What did he say to you?”

“It isn’t what he said, it’s what he did and didn’t do!”

Martha gasped. “Don’t tell me he didn’t bed with you.”

“Well, sort of.”

“What do you mean?”

Katie stood and paced the bedroom. “He did once, and then he didn’t anymore, and then he did a lot, and then he left.”

“A lot?”

“Seven times.”

Martha pursued her lips and fussed with her sleeve. “Well now, Katie, you were with him only two weeks. From my experience, that was actually quite a bit.”

Katie halted and cried, “It was one night!”

“One night?” Martha’s jaw dropped. “
Seven
times!”

Katie nodded.

“Oh, my stars!” Martha exclaimed. “And he had the strength to move the next day?”

“He
left
the next day. He left without saying goodbye and went back to Nacogdoches. Oh, Martha. I must be the worst lover ever born!”

“Um, um, um,” Martha said. “
Seven times
. Katie, you don’t need to worry about not pleasin’ the man. Why, it’s obvious to me that you pleased him too much. For a man to get that het up, well, he’s got to have some mighty powerful feelings. He didn’t leave you, girl, he ran from you.” She rubbed her hands together and giggled. “He’s guarding his little baby feelings.”

“I don’t think so Martha.”

“Well, I do. Seven times—why that Mr. Branch is purely something else.” Martha shook her head. “No, Katie, if he doesn’t love you yet, he’s awful close. He’s running from you, and listen to me dear, this is another of our woman’s secrets. When he’s running from you hard and fast, well… that’s the best time to catch him.”

“But I’ve tried to catch him. I couldn’t.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Martha said. “You’ve not been listening, child. Here’s how to go about it.” She lowered her voice and explained to Katie how to play Branch Kincaid like a fiddle.

When she finished, Katie was laughing.

BRANCH KINCAID’S bride had done come to town.

For three days now he’d been living under carnal siege, and as a result, he stomped around Nacogdoches with his hat covering his crotch more often than his head.

And the little witch had decided to bathe. Again. Katie Kincaid, as she called herself, must be the cleanest damned woman in Texas. One more glimpse of bare legs or naked breasts would have him either running for the border or the bed. Either way, he was doomed.

She’d traveled into Nacogdoches to conclude preparations for the reopening celebrations for Gallagher’s Tavern and Travelers Inn, which were to be held a little over two weeks from now on San Jacinto Day. She was hosting a barbecue complete with a Best Dessert of the Day contest. Everyone in town had received an invitation. Everyone but Branch.

Of course, he wouldn’t go even if he had been asked. He had more important things to do.

Still, he would have appreciated an invitation.

Katie had arrived unannounced at Nacogdoches House and had moved into Branch’s own room and into his own bed, commenting that appearances must be kept up. She kept to her own side, though, never touching him during the night. Not even when he lay awake and willed it. Never once had she referred to the night they’d spent together, nor asked why he’d left before she awoke.

That annoyed him. Damned if it didn’t up and get him riled. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure the woman out.

For one thing, she’d gone and lost her modesty. She’d settled into the boardinghouse like a wood floor. No matter how careful a fella stepped, she creaked at him. Little things—brushing her hair in the candlelight, kicking off her shoes the minute she entered their room, and wiggling her toes right at him. Katie Kincaid shed her widowhood, and her clothes followed shortly. “Gonna make herself soap-sick,” he grumbled.

She should at least yell at him for loving, then leaving, her. That’s what a normal woman would do. But as he climbed the stairs to his room, he reminded himself that Kate was no normal woman. What would she be doing tonight? Would he find her naked again? Perhaps he’d finally see her in that scarlet corset and she’d scream and yell at him for running out on her. Then, when she was in a high passion, he’d pull those black ribbons and loosen her stays. Maybe he’d use his teeth.

He took the last few steps two at a time. He dusted off his shirt and straightened the kerchief at his neck before he turned the door handle and entered the room.

She was gone.

Damned if she hadn’t packed up and left. Her dresses, her shoes, her blessed sweet-smelling soap, all of it.

A note lay propped on the bed pillow. Branch crossed the room and slowly picked up it. Gallagher’s Tavern and Travelers Inn was inviting him to attend their Grand Reopening on San Jacinto Day, April 21, 1845.

Katie had penned a note at the bottom, asking him to judge in the contest.

“Hmm,” Branch said, hovering between a grin and a scowl. “I hope she bakes her cobbler.”

“I’D LIKE to see the records of land claims filed in this county over the past five years.”

The starched-collar clerk in the land office frowned over the tops of his spectacles at Branch’s question. “That’s quite a bit of paper, sir. What specifically are you looking for?”

Branch slipped his hand inside his vest and pulled his deputy’s badge from his shirt pocket. He glared at the man behind the counter. “Just bring me the files.”