The Unexpected Bride (The Brides Book 1) (28 page)

If she wanted Isaac to love her—the
real
Becky—then she had to tell him.

But there was no way she could sit around all day waiting to do it, she realized, suddenly on fire with the determination to tell him right away. She had to do it now. She had to get it over and done with. Whatever the outcome.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she realized Isaac must be well on his way to the work site by now. She rose, dumped all the breakfast dishes in the basin, and hurried to her room. Discarding her guise as the perfectly proper young lady, she tugged her old hunting jacket over her dress. Then realizing Isaac might need proof about her shooting skills, she slung her rifle over her back too. An attack of nerves swept over her as she stood with the doorknob in her hand, finally ready to go.

This was it.

She took in a shaky breath and let it out real slow-like. No backing out. If she was going to tell Isaac about “Becky,” then he might as well see her as she really was: a wild hoyden. And she may as well do it now. What better time than the present? That was something Papa liked to say.

So she’d learned at least one thing from her father:
No better time than the present
.

Isaac was either going to accept her as she was or not.

Becky dashed out of the cabin before she lost her courage. Gathering her skirts up, she jumped onto Siren’s back and chased after her husband.

TWENTY-TWO

A
s his mount made its way down the familiar mountain path, Isaac was free to think. So, his wife loved another man. He admitted the truth to himself:
he loved her anyway
. Maybe with time, she’d come to love him. He’d just have to try harder. A new cabin would be a good place to start anew. He could almost picture Rebecca someday holding a little bundle wrapped in a white flannel blanket. With any luck, they’d have a peck of boys. He couldn’t stand the thought of being responsible for two women, let alone one.Even as he thought it, an image of a sweet, angelic baby girl made him catch a ragged breath. And that’s when he realized the truth:

Even as he thought it, an image of a sweet, angelic baby girl made him catch a ragged breath. And that’s when he realized the truth:

He wanted a family for himself, not just to please Pop.

In fact, he acknowledged that he desperately wanted a family
now
. He’d been attracted to Rebecca early on and come to care for her fairly quickly, but he’d stuffed his feelings down out of pride. She’d told him up front she didn’t expect a love match. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but now he’d have to find a way to make her love him or resign himself to being second best in her affections—no matter how much it stuck in his craw. Either way, she was the mate God had given him, and he loved her. From what he’d seen at Dally’s camp that night, he already knew she’d make a wonderful mother.

Stopping for a drink from the stream, Isaac dismounted and crouched by the bank. He drank deeply of the cold, clear water, his thoughts turning to his plans for the new house. He had the perfect site in mind...

***

Becky rode to the felling site, searching through the trees for Isaac. She heard a logger cry out, “Hold up!” and then another. Soon all the men had halted their work and watched as she rode through the site, their saws in hand, axe heads laid to rest on the ground, all eyes on her.

She recognized big red-haired Brody on a raised footboard of some sort wedged into a tree and called up to him. “Have you seen Isaac?”

He looked at her dumbly for a moment. “Miz Jessup?” he finally said, recognition dawning on his face.

“Isaac?” she called up again. “I’m looking for Isaac.”

“Haven’t seen him. You might want to ask Sam.” He gestured downhill, and she continued on, stopping when she came to Sam. Her skin prickled, feeling the eyes of the men still on her, watching her, gawking. She tugged her skirts down more, worried she was showing too much petticoat.

“Well, what do we have here?” Sam asked, beaming at her in clear appreciation, not in any way that would have made her blush, but with a sort of fatherly pride.

“I’m looking for Isaac.”

“In that get-up?” He squinted at her.

“I need to talk to him,” she said bravely, ignoring the fact that her hair had loosened itself from her bun and was spilling around her shoulders. No doubt that was one reason all the men were gaping at her. That, and she had clear orders to stay away from the logging site. Or it could have been the rifle strapped to her back. Or the fact that she was riding bareback.

Or all of that put together, most likely.

Sam nodded. “Well, it’s about time, I’d say.”

“Have you seen him?”

“That I have. He passed by here not that long ago—stopped to tell me he was on his way into town.”

“Oh,” Becky said, disappointed. She’d so hoped to get this over with. If she had to wait for Isaac to go into town and return back up the mountain...well, she was afraid she’d lose her courage altogether.

“Not that long ago,” Sam repeated, angling his head as if waiting for her to catch his meaning. “He’d be following the stream.”

“Thanks, Pop.” Becky gathered her reins—gathered herself. Yes, she’d follow Isaac down the mountain. She’d come this far. Why not?

She gave Siren a nudge with her knee and continued on, working her way through the trees, more than ever aware of so many gazes trailing after her, tracing her every move. Even if she lost her nerve along the way, Isaac was sure to hear about her appearance here today from his men.

***

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour later when Becky caught sight of a horse through the trees ahead and pulled Siren to a halt. There was Isaac by the stream. His hat lay on the ground beside him, and he was splashing water over his face. She felt a rush of tenderness at the sight of his dark hair brushing the collar of his shirt.

And then a blur of movement upstream caught her eye.

A grizzly on the run.

Becky blinked to clear her vision, sure she was seeing things, but it still was there. Headed straight for Isaac. And he was still bent over the stream, oblivious to the danger.

Oh, dear Lord
.

Isaac
.

She drew her rifle and aimed.

“Isaac! Look out!” she screamed as she and Siren surged forward.

At her shout, Isaac jumped up and turned toward her. He just stood there gaping at her.

And the bear—the bear was coming right at him.

“Oh, Lord,” Becky whispered, horrified, “he doesn’t see it.”

Isaac must have sensed the movement then or heard the crack of branches breaking, or the beast grunting, for he looked briefly to the side and tried to stumble out of the bear’s reach. A huge paw swiped him down to the ground before he’d moved more than a couple of steps.

Becky brought Siren to a stop. With a racing heart, she tried to calm her breathing and aim.

Please don’t let me shoot Isaac. Please don’t let me shoot Isaac.

She fired into the bear’s thick hide. It didn’t budge, didn’t even flinch. She had to reload, dropping bullets to the ground in her haste. Fighting the urge to cry out, she bit her lip hard and fired again. Her breath came in short sobs as the beast kept mauling Isaac.

Gripping her last bullet, she loaded as quickly as she could and aimed for the bear’s open mouth. The beast seemed to pause mid-roar.

She made her shot.

Oh, dear God
, she prayed,
let it die. It’s got Isaac
.
It’s got him.

The bear crumpled in a heap across Isaac’s legs.

He lay there unmoving, his head thrown back against the rocks.

“Isaac!”

Please don’t let him be dead. Please don’t let him be dead.

Becky jumped down from Siren’s back, landing with a jarring thump. She raced to Isaac, nearly falling over an exposed root, dropping her rifle at some point. She didn’t care. Her blood pulsed through her body. She grabbed Isaac under the arms and hauled him away from the bear, freeing his legs. How she did it, she didn’t know. It seemed she had the strength of ten men. His face was so pale and streaked with blood. A gasp caught in her throat.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Isaac Jessup,” she ordered him, tears running down her cheeks.

Cupping her hands in the stream, she gathered up some cool water and washed his face, then cradled his head in her lap.

“I love you, you hear? You can’t die.” She repeated the words over and over as she wiped his face and stroked his hair.

***

Isaac tried to move, but his leg was on fire with pain, and his head hurt something awful too. He must be dreaming, he decided, for he thought he heard Rebecca saying she loved him, but that couldn’t be. Rebecca loved Jack.

Yes, it had it be a dream. Only moments ago, he thought he’d seen her barreling toward him. She’d been riding bareback astride her mare, with her rifle aimed high, looking every inch a wild frontier woman. He’d been standing there questioning his vision, when that bear had swiped him to the ground. A bear?

Some crazed grizzly, out of control.

There’s a mean bear on the loose.

It sounded like Harper’s voice in his head.

A mean bear.

Coming right at him.

Pain.

Gunshots.

Rebecca.

Surely his thinking was all confused. Perhaps the pain was causing him to have delusions, though the pain itself was real enough.

Forcing a breath, he shifted to get more air in his lungs. In his dream, he felt soft lips pressing against his cheek. She was kissing him over and over. His arms wouldn’t move. He wanted so much to hold her back, but his limbs seemed nailed to the ground.

“Oh, Isaac, your leg.” Rebecca tugged at the leg of his trousers. “The bear got you good. It’s badly gouged, I’m afraid.”

He forced his eyes open a crack and looked down to find his perfectly ladylike wife ripping some sort of white fabric to shreds and yanking a long strip of it around his thigh, tugging it into a tight knot that made him wince.

“Becky,” he whispered. Looking at her now, the name just seemed to fit. She didn’t look like a Rebecca anymore at all.

“Shhh. That’s right. It’s me—Becky. Don’t move. Save your strength. I still have to get you on that horse somehow, and I’m going to need as much help as you can give me.” She was taking charge of him, bossing him around with a confident air of command that made him want to raise his brows. That is, if he could’ve moved them.

“I need to get you to the doctor in town.” Her panic came to the surface then in the quaver in her voice.

She was really worried about him. The thought sort of pleased him a little. She cared if he lived or died. Not much to go on, but it was a start.

“Okay, now, can you grab my shoulder?” She leaned close.

He wanted to help her so badly. From out of the very depths of him, he managed to lift his arm across her shoulders. The world tilted and faded in and out of black, as she shifted and pulled him and all his great length toward a big boulder. How she expected to get him up on his bay was a mystery. She weighed next to nothing.

***

Becky held tight to Isaac. He alternately sagged against her with all his weight, threatening to topple her over, and other times, he’d catch himself and surge forward toward the boulder. Her muscles had almost given out by the time she got him up on top of the biggest rock she could find. She urged the bay over to Isaac’s side.

Isaac collapsed over the gelding’s back with a groan, his eyes closed, his body limp. Once Becky made certain he was secure, she pulled herself astride Siren. Praying she’d get him down the trail in time to get help, she led the big bay down the mountain path. Minutes blurred into hours. It seemed like years passed by until they finally arrived at the doctor’s house.

Becky paced around the doctor’s office, a small square room with a desk, chairs, and shelves lining the walls. Although she was in his office surrounded by medical books, her heart was just as surely in the examination room with Isaac, where Dr. Sawyer was tending to his injuries. She shivered. Why was she so
cold
? She stomped her feet and paced around, trying to warm herself up, which helped a little and kept her mind somewhat occupied. At the sound of footsteps approaching, she braced herself for bad news.

Dr. Sawyer entered the room and immediately strode to her side. “Mrs. Jessup.”

She blinked at him, confused at first by the name.

He gently rested a hand on her shoulder. “Your husband will be fine. He’s lost some blood and will have a knot on his head that’s going to give him a little trouble. You need to know though, with a head injury like this, he may drift in and out for a few days.”