The Stagecoach Bride Page 3

  Mic shook his head; he couldn’t believe it. “Strips of beef, smoked to preserve it. Ice is a rarity out here unless it’s winter. It’s the only way to keep a side of beef from rotting.”

  She handed the meal back to him. “Do you have anything else?”

  Mic groaned and whipped out his gun. He fired into the trees. Miss Christian started, eyes wide. A second later a large dove plunked to the ground, its head completely gone.

  Turning his attention back to her, he asked, “Can I interest you in a bird, cikala wiwayaka?”

  She dug a handkerchief out of her pocket and placed it over her nose. “That has to be the most revolting, absolutely disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He strode over to the dove and picked it up by the feet, blood dripping from the neck. “They taste like chicken.”

  “Get it away from me!”

  “Rule one, nothing goes to waste,” he said, sitting down to pluck out the feathers, the blood seeping onto his leather chaps.

  “Excuse me,” Miss Christian mumbled, rushing from the clearing.

  Mic shook his head and started the process of cleaning the dove, whistling as he worked.

  Chapter Three

  Lillian hurried away from Mic, her feet carrying her as fast as she could go before the bile rose up in her throat and she couldn’t hold down what little was left in her stomach anymore. She fell to her knees and threw up, gripping the blades of grass in her hands and wishing to God this whole sordid ordeal had never happened. When the urge to vomit finally passed, she crawled to a clean area and collapsed. She wanted to cry, felt it would help her, but she had no more tears.

  She’d spent most of the day crying. First, when she woke up that morning and then again after the bandits captured her. Why her? What did they want with her? Did it have something to do with Robert? She shivered and closed her eyes. No. He couldn’t know. She’d been very careful to conceal everything she was doing. She was safe. Well, as safe as could be, all things considered.

  She hoped Mic could be trusted, hoped he meant it when he promised her that he wouldn’t hurt her or allow the others to hurt her. A cool breeze passed over her, making her shudder. She curled up into a ball and took in what little warmth she could. It’d be dark soon. Already the pinks and oranges in the sky had given way to grays and blues. How she wished she was on the coach. That was the only way she’d know for sure she could be safe. Once she was married, Robert wouldn’t be able to have her.

  She took a deep breath and released it. The action calmed her, so she repeated it several times, taking comfort in the quiet of the evening. Even if it was getting cooler, she didn’t want to leave her spot. She wanted to stay here for as long as possible, suspended in time with nothing to worry about. This land was so different from what she’d been used to, but she had to admit that it was as beautiful as Maggie said.

  She sighed and wrapped her arms tighter around herself. The day had been a warm one, hot even around the early afternoon, especially with all the commotion going on. Would Charles Gray look for her? Sure, he would. She had promised to come out to meet him. He knew she was on her way, knew to expect her in two days. He’d have to come for her. And when he did, maybe she’d be safe.

  ***

  Lillian stirred from her slumber, aware that she was no longer chilly. In fact, she was very warm. And more than that, she felt protected. For a moment, she truly felt safe.

  She shifted, expecting to feel the grass beneath her hand, but her fingers brushed worn cotton. Through her sleepy haze, she opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was the fire nearby, its flames lapping lazily in the still night. She turned her gaze to the sky and noticed a few clouds, one of which partially obstructed the view of the quarter moon.

  The second thing she noticed was the duster draped over her. The third thing she noticed was that she was curled up against Mic’s side.

  Mic was dozing against the saddle, his arm resting at his side with his gun in hand, and his other arm was wrapped around her shoulders. That wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t bad either considering how close she’d been to him on the saddle.

  What was bad, however, was the fact that her leg was draped over Mic’s leg in the most impure manner. If someone were to find them, they’d assume she was ready to…to…

  Well, she hadn’t done anything with a man beyond dancing at a party, so she really didn’t know what she looked like she was doing. All she knew was that it was highly inappropriate.

  Trying not to wake Mic, lest he discover her grievous behavior, she gingerly rose up on her arm, not minding where she placed her hand when she tried to roll away from him. Her hand just so happened to land below his belt, right on an unfamiliar bulge between his legs. She shrieked and quickly removed her hand from him.

  “Get a handful?” he asked, his eyes just peeking out from below the brim of his hat and a sly smile spreading across his lips.

  She shrieked again and tried to get away from him, but her foot caught on the bottom of her skirt and she fell against his chest, her body seeming to press more fully over his than before. Oh, the indignity of it all!

  Mic grunted, his hands resting on her waist. “I’m not sure who needs protection from who, Uzizitka.”

  “Unhand me at once,” she demanded, wiggling in an effort to loosen her skirt from his legs.

  He released his hold on her and placed his hands above his head in a sign of surrender. Without his support, she fell back over him with a yelp of surprise. She scrambled to get off of him, her hands all over the place, touching places she had no business touching, as if she were a lady of ill repute.

  Her cheeks grew even warmer when she saw him look away from her, laughter softly escaping from his lips. “It’s not funny!” She finally stood and brushed her skirt and shirtwaist in an attempt to hold onto what little dignity she had left. Her chin rose in the air. “I assure you that I’m not that kind of woman. You,” she cleared her throat and lifted her chin, her eyes keeping track of his expression, “you surprised me, that’s all.”

  “Imagine his surprise,” Wade said from across the camp, standing from the fallen log. “I brought breakfast.”

  Red spread across Mic’s cheeks and he had to clear his throat several times before he turned his gaze to Wade. “I’m shocked you even thought of it.”

  Lillian gasped and picked the duster off the ground and covered herself, ignoring the fact that she was already fully clothed. “We were doing nothing wrong.”

  Wade burst out laughing. “Darlin’, from where I was sitting, you had your hands all over my brother. If this territory was as civilized as where you come from, I’d have to insist you marry my brother for taking advantage of him.” He squatted down beside the fire, stoking the coals and adding a few more pieces. “You’re lucky us Neanderthals aren’t that civilized yet.”

  Her entire face flushed with embarrassment. “B-but I didn’t realize I was with him.” She pointed toward the spot where she’d fallen asleep. “Last I remember, I was clear over there. Then I-I woke up a-and was there.” She motioned to Mic. “He carried me over here, by this fire. Without me knowing.”

  Wade glanced at Mic’s flushed face and grinned even wider. “For shame, Mic. How could you be so mean as to move this poor girl out of the cold, cougar-infested forest and beside the warm fire? And then be a gentleman by giving her your coat and allowing her to take liberties with your person?”

  Mic glared at Wade. “You’re not going to shut up about this, are you?”

  “Not on your life. It’s payback for all the times you teased me about. . .” Wade’s face fell. “Never mind. Come eat.”

  Lillian glanced between the two, wondering what Wade’s sudden change of mood was about, but since the focus was not on her, she was more relieved than curious. He could have all the secrets he wanted for all she cared as long as he never mentioned this humiliating experience to anyone.

  “What’s for breakfast?” Mic asked, crouching d
own beside the fire. “Hopefully not dove.”

  She frowned. “You killed that thing right in front of me. How could you expect me to eat it?”

  Wade glanced between them and raised a brow.

  Mic shrugged. “She didn’t like the jerky. I figured she’d prefer the poultry.”

  “He killed food for you?” Wade asked her. “And you didn’t eat it?”

  “Well, I,” she glanced at Mic then turned her attention back to Wade, “couldn’t. Its head was off and blood was all over the place.”

  Even thinking about it made her sick to her stomach. She swallowed the bile that rose up in her throat and swayed, suspecting she was close to fainting and sure that the lack of food had a part to play in it. But even so, just thinking of that poor headless bird made her stomach roll in protest to any thoughts of eating.

  Mic went over to her and tugged on a lock of her hair. “Buck up, Miss Christian. I promise not to do it again.”

  She swatted at his hand. “Stop messing with my hair.”

  She hated her hair and every time someone brought attention to it, it only made her aware that she wasn’t as pretty as the women with darker hair or blonde hair. As her brother used to say, the best hope she had of finding a respectable man was to be a good and decent lady. Her head hurt. She didn’t even want to think of what Albert would say if he found her lying in a man’s arms and touching him in places she shouldn’t.

  “Please don’t tell anyone about the way I,” she gestured to the saddle and paused, “you know?” If Charles Gray found out… God help her, he’d send her right back to Virginia and to Robert. “Please don’t tell anyone?” Looking at Wade, she tightened her grip on the duster. “I wasn’t trying to do anything improper. I promise I won’t ever touch Mic again.”

  Wade burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, but who would we tell? We’re walking dead men and I highly doubt they’re going to pause long enough to hear the story before they lynch us.”

  “Wade! The less she knows, the safer she’ll be.” Mic handed her a plate of bacon, biscuits, and fried eggs. “Eat up.”

  They were right. They were bandits. Who would listen to them anyway? Relaxing, she placed the duster by the saddle and said, “Thank you.” She sat on the ground near Wade and Mic, relieved to smell food she was accustomed to eating.

  He raised a brow. “I’m glad the thoughts of our deaths bring you some peace,” Mic said. “Can’t say I’ll be enjoying it.”

  “Me neither,” Wade chimed in. “Hopefully, the others will be spared.”

  “I’m just glad I’ll never see the inside of a jail cell.” Mic shivered. “Or have to eat the food.”

  She bit into the eggs and nearly choked on it, but before they could notice her hesitation, she swallowed. Now wasn’t the time to worry about the taste of something. As long as she didn’t have to eat something that was just shot in front of her, she’d manage. But if Mic thought this was better than jail food, she decided she’d starve to death before eating there. Once she managed to get the slimy eggs down her throat, she ate the bacon, which was a lot better than the eggs and wolfed down the biscuit, which tasted good enough to wash out the taste of those awful eggs.

  This wasn’t the way she imagined her new start in life—being out in the godforsaken wilderness with two bandits who were holding her for ransom. But at least they hadn’t taken advantage of her and she’d take what little comfort she could until she was safe with her intended.

  She wiped her mouth with the handkerchief and set the plate down. “Am I the first person you’ve kidnapped or is this how you make your living, kidnapping women and having their intendeds send the ransom?” If they ended up giving those women to their husbands-to-be, then she’d know there was hope for her.

  Wade and Mic exchanged a look that Lillian wasn’t sure about. “I was an honest rancher once,” Wade said.

  “I’m still a rancher,” Mic added, “who decided that kidnapping beautiful women would be fun. You happen to be the first.”

  Wade snorted and stood to put out the fire. “And the last.”

  Mic nodded in agreement and stood to saddle his horse.

  She waited for a moment before asking Wade, “Will you two let me go when Charles Gray pays the ransom?”

  He frowned. “Why would we keep you?”

  She clenched her lips together and rose to her feet, careful so she couldn’t trip in her hurry to get away from him and his rude answer. Her cheeks burned with anger even as tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let him know his words bothered her. She hated him! She should have grabbed another lump of hair off his head, but she was weak and exhausted. She just didn’t have the fight in her today.

  As soon as she turned her back to him and headed away from the camp and into the trees, she wiped her tears away. She should be relieved at his answer. At least they had no intention of keeping her. That meant she’d be with Charles soon, and the sooner she was with him, the sooner she could put this horrid experience behind her.

  The snap of a twig was her only warning before Mic spoke, “Ignore Wade. He’s an angry little boy in a man’s body.”

  She halted her steps and brushed more tears away. As much as she wanted to run off and escape this nightmare, another part of her needed someone—anyone—to say something kind to her. There was only so much she could bear before she gave up. And Robert had used that against her.

  Mic touched her shoulder, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “Are you ready to go? Or do you need some time alone?”

  Making sure there were no more telltale tears, she glanced at him. “Is he,” she nodded in Wade’s direction, “coming?”

  “He’s gone ahead.”

  “Alright. I’ll go with you, but I need to tend to something of a personal nature first.”

  He nodded. “Don’t go far. I was serious last night about predators.” He reached out, brushing his thumb against her cheek. “Call me if you need anything.”

  She blinked, surprised that he would show her such tenderness. Her face warmed, this time with pleasure, and she offered him a tentative smile. “Thank you.”

  He touched his fingers to the brim of his hat and inclined his head. “Miss Christian.” He turned and walked away.

  Feeling a little better about being kidnapped, she headed for the trees for some privacy.

  Chapter Four

  Mic wasn’t sure what to think of Miss Christian as he walked away. She was definitely a pleasant surprise and very different than the type of woman he expected Charles to choose. The rich land owner liked his women rich, widowed, and submissive with loose morals and a well-endowed bust. The whorehouse had been a frequent stop with a different girl every night.

  Miss Christian was a very different creature from the saloon girls. While spirited and witty with a temper that Wade seemed to provoke whenever they met, she was also the pinnacle of prim and proper decorum, almost prudish—which led her into some humorous incidents in the last twenty-four hours.

  From the moment he’d seen her huddled in the bottom of that coach, her red hair struggling to spill out of her perfectly coiffured twist, he’d been attracted to her. Though no great beauty, she was delightful and endearing. From what he could tell beneath all those layers of proper dress, Miss Christian was willowy and petite, although nearly as tall as most men. She was like the uzizitka, the wild rose, attractive and delicate, thriving where few others could.

  He felt sorry for her. If everything went according to plan, he would hand her over to Charles in a few days and Charles would never allow her spirit to survive. He’d break her like he had the mare last fall.

  The nicker of a strange horse drew him from his contemplation. The butt of his gun rested comfortably in the palm of his hand and he slowly pulled it from its holster.

  Careful where he stepped, he moved through the trees, his booted feet making more noise than he’d like. Not that it really mattered; most men would never hear him coming.

  His eyes scan
ned his surroundings, nearing the clearing where they camped, and spotted Noah sitting beside the dead fire, humming a quite melody, his leg jingling to the tune.

  Mic holstered his gun and stepped into the clearing. “What are you doing here?”

  Noah scanned the area. “Where’s the lady?”

  Mic pointed back the way he’d come. Already he could hear her traipsing through the brush, pausing every so often to release her dress from a snag. The rich cloth would soon be nothing but rags. “We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

  Noah stretched his lanky frame and stood, pulling a crisp piece of folded paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Mic. “Abby thought you might like to see this.”

  Mic took the paper and unfolded it, staring down at the incredible likeness of Miss Lillian Christian and the cash reward for her capture. Like all wanted posters it didn’t do her justice and it lied. Who could the scoundrel have cajoled, bribed, and beaten to have this made up so quickly? “Damn him!”

  They had Charles’ answer and it wasn’t one Mic had expected. Not even in the realm of possible answers. What kind of man would accuse his mail-order bride of theft and fraud when she’d obviously been kidnapped by bandits on the road to meet him? It wasn’t as if they’d given her the chance to refuse them. They’d terrorized her, tied her hands, thrown her on the horse, and ridden off with her like the thieves Charles claimed them to be. At least he wanted her alive. The Nichols Boys wouldn’t be so lucky.

  “What is that?” Lillian asked, approaching them.

  Mic started and pulled the paper out of her reach. “Nothing.”

  Her eyes went to the paper then back to him. “It doesn’t seem like nothing to me.”

  He refolded the poster and placed it in the inner pocket of his coat. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Uzizitka. We have quite a ride ahead of us.”

  He walked away from her and to Jimmy Boy. Noah glanced between the two of them and then headed to his own horse without a word.