The Stagecoach Bride Page 4

  She followed him, picking up her pace to keep up with him. “Why do you call me Uziza? Uztiza?”

  His plan was falling apart on him, placing them all in danger, and she was worried about him calling her wild rose in Lakota. He turned on her, grabbing her by the waist, and lifting her into the saddle. “What does it matter?”

  She grabbed the saddle horn, struggling for balance, and he mounted behind her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he drew her closer and turned Jimmy Boy’s head up the trail, setting a quicker pace for the cabin than he would have liked. Noah didn’t complain. They both knew what this meant and it wasn’t anything good.

  Everything was unraveling fast and he couldn’t see a way out. The entire plan had ridden on the fact that Charles would want his fiancé back, if for no other reason than to save face. Only now it seemed he was willing to risk her life. And for what? A few cattle and more land? Didn’t the man have enough of both without taking more?

  “Are we going to the cabin?” Lillian said in a small, trembling voice.

  Mic winced, feeling like the cad he was. He hadn’t intended to frighten her all over again. He’d really meant what he’d promised. He’d keep her safe. Only he wasn’t sure how he was going to do that now.

  By placing a bounty of a thousand dollars for her capture, Charles had insured that every bounty hunter and lawman for miles around would be looking for her. There was nowhere he could send her. There was nowhere in the territory where she could hide that they wouldn’t find her.

  “Yeah. You’ll like it.” Which was a lie.

  His little cabin in the woods was serviceable, meant to be temporary until he could afford to build a better place for the wife and children he hoped to have one day when he found a woman who could live the life he loved. It wasn’t meant for a gentlewoman who was use to cobblestone streets and brick homes with running water. What he had was a one-room cabin with a bed in the loft, a potbelly stove, a table for six, and—thanks to Charles—no privacy. It wasn’t a place meant for a woman and three unmarried men.

  “Can I ask how long we’ll be at the cabin?” Lillian asked, her voice hesitant.

  “A few days.” Or until he could find a way to make Lillian safe and figure out another plan that didn’t involve him giving himself up for the hangman’s noose. That would solve nothing.

  He felt responsible for Lillian’s predicament. If Abby hadn’t come to him with the news of Charles’ mail-order bride coming on the next coach, he wouldn’t have thought up this crazy scheme to force Charles’ hand. Then she’d be safe. But could any woman be considered safe with Charles? And when had he started to care?

  “Oh…um…” She shifted uncomfortably, her bottom rubbing intimately against his groin. “Will my trunk be there?”

  He chuckled. Just like a woman to want a change of clothes and be oblivious to the effects she was having on his male anatomy. “Yes. There’s a stream outside. Noah and I can heat some water for a bath if you’d like.”

  She nodded, an audible sigh of relief escaping her throat. “Thank you.” Then she spoke louder. “For getting my trunk.”

  “Abby would have tanned our hides, or possibly shot us, if we’d forgotten. She’s kind of unpredictable in that regard.”

  She chuckled at his joke.

  He tugged on a lock of her hair. “You think I tease, Uzizitka?”

  “Why do you keep playing with my hair?”

  He shrugged. Her question startled him and it took him a moment to find the answer. It was something he did to Abby when she was worried or upset. It always drew her out. “Isn’t that what boys do to annoy the girls?”

  She ducked her head and he wondered if she was blushing. “Oh, so you’re trying to annoy me?” she asked, a slight teasing tone to her voice.

  He leaned closer, chin resting on her shoulder, speaking softly in her ear, “I find it the most becoming shade of red and very soft.”

  “My brother didn’t like it. He said it was too bright, like a tomato.”

  “First, he’s your brother, and brothers are allowed to taunt their sisters. Second, he’s wrong. It’s not the least bit tomato-y. I’d say more like the color of rubies, or a rose.”

  “You really think it’s like a rose? Or rubies?” She glanced at him, judging his truthfulness. “I never liked the color. I grew up wishing I’d been a blonde or brunette. Those are such lovely colors. A lady can wear more clothes with them.”

  He frowned, reaching up to twist a lock around his finger. “That would be a pity.”

  “Would it?”

  “Yep. I’ve always been fascinated by redheads.” He knew he shouldn’t, it wasn’t right, but couldn’t help it. He cupped her soft, pale cheek in his rough hand and kissed her. A gentle brush of the lips.

  She giggled then straightened, pink staining her cheeks. “Mic, I can’t. This is not right. I’m promised to Charles Gray.”

  He drew back, mentally berating himself. What was he thinking? She was an innocent girl promised to another and he. . . well, he was an outlaw with a price on his head. He would respect her loyalty, even if it was given to the wrong man. “What a shame.” He halted the horse and dismounted. “Noah! I need you to lead Jimmy Boy. Make sure Miss Christian gets to the cabin safely. I’ll meet you there in an hour with supper.”

  Startled, she turned toward him. “Where are you going?”

  He patted her knee, knowing the gesture was inappropriate, but then what had he done in the last two days that was appropriate where she was concerned? “For a walk. I promise to bring back something that Wade can’t ruin with his limited cooking skills. And it won’t be a dove.”

  A hunt would do him some good. He needed distance from her to clear his head and rethink his plan. And it would give her time to reassemble her armor against him.

  She stiffened and her grip tightened on the saddle horn. “Wade? He’s going to be there? Are you going to leave me alone with him?”

  “It won’t be for long and Noah will be there.”

  “But I don’t know him!”

  Mic squeezed her knee. “Noah is a better gentleman than me. You’ll be safe with him.”

  And a whole hell of a lot safer than she would be with him if he had to sit another second with the scent of her honey perfume tempting him or her rear grazing against his hardening cock. If there was any less padding on her behind, she would have felt his erection growing a mile or so down that track. Thank God for small favors and innocent women.

  She glanced at his hand, her cheeks growing pink, but she didn’t push his hand away. “Can’t I go with you? I won’t be any problem at all. I won’t even say anything.”

  It was tempting to say yes. He could take her into the woods with him. He could be the Neanderthal she’d accused them all of being yesterday. He could press her against a tree and explore her full pink lips with his. And he’d be a fool for doing it.

  Mic handed the reins to Noah, whose eyes widened with a hint of panic as he looked between them. “What would your Charles Gray think about you traipsing through the forest with a bandit who would take advantage of your innocence?”

  She blanched. “But you said you wouldn’t do that, and I believe you.”

  “You have such a trusting soul, Lillian. Be careful who you rely on.” He released her leg with one last caress. “Go with Noah, cikala wiwayaka.”

  Chapter Five

  Lillian held onto the saddle horn as Noah led her horse through the forest at what seemed to be an extremely slow uphill climb. She couldn’t see much of where they were going, especially when they were surrounded by lodge pole pines and aspens. At least they offered adequate shade from the sun, and in light of the fact that she lost her hat, the trees would prevent her skin from getting burned. It was a small blessing among everything that was happening but a blessing all the same, and right now she’d take any blessing she could get.

  Mic’s horse stepped into a rut as Noah led them to their right, and she lost her balance. “Wait!” She
grabbed the horse’s mane so she wouldn’t fall off. The horse threw back its head, so she tightened her grip.

  Noah stopped and looked back at her as she struggled to get properly back into the saddle. He dismounted and was at her side in a flash, his large hands steadying her. “Like this,” he mumbled, moving her hands for a more secure grip at the base of the horse’s mane.

  Trembling, she held onto the portion of the horse’s mane Noah indicated and offered a slight nod. “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head, still not looking her in the eye, “Ma’am,” and remounted his horse.

  She watched him as they resumed their trek up the side of the mountain. He had the same look about him as Mic, but he was also different. Noah was quiet and, despite his size, seemed more childlike in his actions and speech. Mic was more talkative and had a way that put her at ease, even if his idea of putting her at ease was to tease her about her hair.

  She frowned. She still didn’t understand what he meant by the strange words he used. She couldn’t even remember how his favorite name for her sounded. All she knew was that it started with a ‘u’. Whatever it meant, it seemed to amuse him. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but it sure was better than the anger Wade continually displayed.

  She shivered. Wade was unpredictable and his temper frightening. Why he should be upset with her, she couldn’t figure out. She didn’t ask to be kidnapped.

  For the next hour, she and Noah continued on in silence. She adjusted her weight as the horse moved beneath her, compensating for its swaying the best she could. By the time they reached a clearing among the trees, she thought she was finally getting the hang of riding the beast.

  Noah slowed the horses to a stop and Lillian took a moment to look around the clearing, wondering why they’d stopped. She almost missed the small building tucked between two large trees. A goat stood on the roof eating the grass growing there. It glanced up at her, chewing slowly.

  She blinked several times. “Is that the cabin?”

  Noah looked toward the direction of her gaze and smiled. “That’s the barn where Maisey and Penelope sleep.”

  He pointed toward the right of the barn. Further back in the trees rested a building not much bigger than the first, although she thought it might be two stories. Thankfully it didn’t have a sod roof. Sunlight glinted off what looked to be actual glass windows. The walls of the cabin were hewn logs, probably from the towering pines around her.

  Noah came up beside her. “Swing your leg around and I’ll help you down.”

  Grateful the hard journey was over, she obeyed, her body stiff and her bottom sore as she slid off the saddle and into his arms. He held onto her, waiting patiently for her wobbly legs to strengthen. When it appeared that he wouldn’t release her anytime soon, Lillian tentatively stepped away.

  He allowed her to go, his expression not changing as he watched her. After an awkward moment, he took the horses’ reins and walked away from her. She stepped forward to follow him, but her legs were so shaky she was forced to slow her pace. She hadn’t realized that having Mic hold her took a lot of the burden off of her to stay on the horse. Now, more than ever, she wished he had held her the rest of the way to his cabin.

  She glanced around the small clearing which was hidden from the rest of the world. “Will Mic be here soon?” she asked but Noah was already too far ahead to hear her.

  She proceeded forward, glancing at Noah who led both horses into a round, wooden fenced-off area. She stopped and brushed back loose strands of hair from her eyes, fascinated at the quick and efficient way he removed the saddles from the horses. Though she couldn’t hear him, he spoke to them in soothing tones, revealing that he felt more comfortable with animals than with people since he barely spoke a word to her. Then, as he continued talking, he picked up a strange brush and started to rub it across their hide. Her eyebrows furrowed. What was the purpose of that?

  She thought to ask him about it but decided against it. All her questions went unanswered for the most part, whether she’d asked them to Mic, Wade, or Noah. The three weren’t forthcoming with anything. She shook her head. Not that it mattered. Soon enough, Charles Gray would come for her and she’d never see any of them again.

  Well, if she was going to be stuck here for a couple days, as Mic said, then she should check out the rest of the place. She made her way to the two-story cabin, her legs gaining their strength as she did so. The place did have a peaceful feeling to it. One could easily hide from the rest of the world and find solace here. It was the perfect place for outlaws.

  She reached the cabin and thought to enter it when she heard water babbling not too far away. Curious, she rounded the cabin and saw a small stream. It wound out of the forest, came up behind the cabin, and turned back into the forest again. It spanned about five feet and looked to be no deeper than her waist, maybe her chest if she were to go in it.

  She’d love nothing more than to take a bath. She hadn’t had a nice, warm bath in over two weeks. Never before had she considered bathing a luxury, but she did now. She wondered if she could wash up here.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Noah was well out of sight from where she was, and since no one else was around, it’d be the perfect time. Before she could talk herself out of it, she removed one of her gloves and dipped her finger into the water to gauge its temperature and sighed in disappointment.

  As much as she longed to take a bath, she couldn’t. Not with the water as cold as it was. She’d have to heat it up, and that meant she’d have to bathe in the cabin…where three men would be nearby. She grimaced. She’d just have to bear with the filth a couple more days until Mic and the others handed her back to Charles, unless Charles found her first. With the way this place was protected by the massive trees, she didn’t think that was going to happen. No. She’d have to wait until he paid the ransom and they released her.

  But she could drink the water. She cupped her hand and brought the water up to her lips. Cold water did have its perks. She took a few more handfuls of water and gulped it down, not caring that drops of it slid down her chin and fell onto her shirtwaist. Once she satisfied her thirst, she rose to her feet and turned back to the cabin. She hoped the trunk was there, as promised. Right now, she could really use her things.

  She rounded the corner of the cabin when a sharp crack echoed through the air. She jerked and turned her attention to Wade who was chopping wood a few feet from the cabin. His bare back was to her, his shirt hanging from a tree branch. A long, red scar ran from his left shoulder disappearing at the waistband of his pants toward his right hip.

  Her first reaction was to avert her gaze as quickly as possible. Looking at a man without a shirt on was highly improper, even if she had no intention of doing so. But the partially healed scar held her attention. She guessed it wasn’t that old. In fact, she guessed whatever caused it happened recently.

  The axe hesitated above Wade’s head then dropped to his side. After a moment, he turned toward her. “Like what you see?”

  Gasping, she turned and rushed to the cabin door. She threw it open and slammed it shut, pressing her back to its wooden surface.

  Outside, she could hear Wade laughing and clenched her teeth. Obstinate man! She should hit him with a frying pan! Maybe it would knock some manners into his thick skull!

  She pushed herself away from the door, glad for the reprieve. Even if it was temporary. Soon, the men, especially Wade, would be in here. She shivered and scanned the sparse cabin until she spotted a cast-iron skillet hanging along the wall by the potbelly stove. She retrieved it and tested its weight. Good. Nice and heavy. She couldn’t be too careful. If Wade tried to hurt her, she’d need a suitable weapon.

  Her gaze swept the room. Besides the table, a couple chairs, a potbelly stove, a cabinet with some meager cooking items, and two bedrolls, she didn’t see much else. At least her trunk wasn’t down here. Seeing the stairs, she decided to see if they’d put it up there. Mic said her tru
nk would be here, and it was the only place it could be.

  Clutching the skillet to her chest, she took a deep breath and proceeded up the narrow steps. God willing, there’d be no critter lurking somewhere up there. She knew a rodent wouldn’t pose the same threat as an angry man, but she still had no desire to come across one. But if she did, she was prepared. Her grip tightened on the handle of the skillet as she reached the top of the steps.

  The area was smaller than the downstairs, but she spied a cot in the corner with a chamber pot slid underneath. A couple of worn and new trunks lined the wall and among them was the one that belonged to her. Relieved, she forgot all about rodents and ran to the trunk, letting the skillet fall to the floor as she pried the lid open. She nearly let out a cheer when she saw that all of her things were still there, untouched and in good condition.

  She examined her hands and determined they were clean enough so she could touch her things. She sorted through her shirtwaists, skirts, extra pair of chemise and bloomers, two pairs of stylish boots, two hats, handkerchiefs, and a drawstring purse. She sighed. She couldn’t wear any of these without ruining them. They were much too fine for living out here. She didn’t know what to do.

  Life out here in Wyoming was nothing like she thought it would be. Why didn’t she think to ask Charles Gray what kind of clothing she should bring? Because it never occurred to me that things would be so different out here.

  The door opened downstairs and two pairs of boots clumped across the floor.

  Stiffening, she reached for the skillet and held her breath.

  “Put it there, Noah,” Wade said. “I’ll get the water started. How long did Mic say he was going to be gone for?”

  Noah mumbled a response she couldn’t quite hear.

  Wade grunted. “This is a complete disaster. We should have gone with my plan.”

  She inched toward the stairs so she could better hear what they were saying.

  Noah’s response was a little clearer this time. “Then we’d all be dead.”