The Stagecoach Bride Page 7

  “Mic told me to tell you breakfast is ready,” she called out.

  Wade turned toward her first, and though she tried to look back at Noah, something in Wade’s expression stopped her. His eyes widened as he scanned her up and down, as if he wasn’t sure she was the same person he’d seen the previous day. Then his expression darkened, leaving an ugly scowl on his face.

  She stiffened. Her heart raced in a mixture of dread and fear. She’d seen that look before on Robert’s face when Albert introduced them.

  He let go of the saddle and stomped in her direction, his mouth forming a thin line. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  She backed up, wondering what she might say—or do—to appease him. Truly, if she knew what she’d done to upset him, she’d know how to respond. With a nervous shake of her head, she said, “Mic told me to get you and Noah.” She took another step back, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was heading for the cabin. She didn’t think it was possible since he looked nothing like Robert, but she swore they looked just alike when they were angry.

  “What are you doing in her clothes?” he snarled.

  She turned to run for the cabin but tripped on the loose hem of the skirt and fell, her hand hitting something hard.

  Mic raced over to them, hauling Lillian to her feet, and placing her behind his back, positioning himself between her and his brother. “Stop it, Wade! Lillian didn’t have appropriate clothes so I let her borrow them.”

  “Who gave you the right to give her Mama’s clothes? What does it matter to you if she walks around here as naked as the day she was born? She’s Charles’ woman. Or have you forgotten?”

  “They’re clothes, not a wedding ring.”

  “Why is she still here, Mic? Charles refused to pay the ransom! You should drop her off at the nearest train station and be done with her.”

  “You know why, Wade.”

  “She’s not another one of your lost souls. You don’t have to help her.”

  Noah trotted over to them. “Yes, she is, Wade. Michaiah’s going to marry her.” He said with a certainty she didn’t expect from someone so young.

  “I’m what?” Mic asked.

  “He’s what?” Wade said.

  “I don’t understand,” Lillian protested, trying to make sense of everything they were saying. Was Michaiah long for Mic? It was all happening so fast. All she could do was cling to the back of Mic’s shirt to make sure Wade couldn’t get near her.

  “Michaiah likes her,” Noah insisted. “He’s going to marry her.”

  “Noah,” Mic asked softly, “why do I have to marry Miss Christian?”

  Noah frowned. “Abby told me that Charles doesn’t want her now and Wade said she was your woman. You let her ride your horse and live in your house.” As if that explained it all, he nodded. “So now you have to get married. Mama said that’s how it is between men and women. The man brings the woman to his home.”

  “But, Noah,” Lillian began, peering around Mic, “Mic and I didn’t do anything. I slept in the cot upstairs and he slept downstairs.”

  Wade choked, coughing and laughing so hard tears ran down his face. “Please stop, you’re going to kill me,” he gasped.

  Mic kicked at his leg. “Shut up.”

  Wade laughed harder, holding his sides.

  Lillian edged further from Wade, not sure about the drastic change in his mood.

  Noah frowned at her. “You came here to take care of Michaiah. What does it matter where you slept?”

  Wade laughed harder.

  “It’s not funny,” she snapped, only feeling brave enough to confront him because Mic was standing with her.

  He shook his head, chuckling. “Noah’s got a good point, Mic. You’re not getting any younger and one skirt is the same as another. Although I’m thinking the woman she was in the coach with would have been the better of the two. Much more pleasant,” he sighed and looked Lillian up and down, “and all those nice curves. Plus, that pretty face. I could do with a pretty face around here.”

  Mic stiffened but she hardly noticed. At that moment, something in her snapped and she couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t leave Virginia just to be talked to the same way her brother and Robert had. She didn’t care if he pulled out a gun and shot her. She’d had enough!

  She bypassed Mic and Noah. “I am not that kind of woman.”

  “What type of woman are you?” Wade snarled. “The type that curls herself around a strange man? Who touches him like a trollop? Who sells herself to a monster for money and safety?”

  All those years with her brother and then those months with Robert came back to her, and in one instant all she could do was act. She slapped Wade with all the strength she could muster. “You uncivilized barbarian!” She slapped him again. “You will never talk about me that way again.” She raised her hand again. “I am a lady!”

  Wade grabbed her hand, holding it firmly, his angry eyes searching her face.

  Her hand formed a fist but she wasn’t able to strike him so she kicked his shin. “If I’m such a burden, then why are you keeping me here? I didn’t ask to be here. I didn’t ask to be kidnapped from a stagecoach.”

  “Let her go,” Mic said from behind her.

  She kicked him again, harder, raking her boot down his leg. “If money is all you care about, Wade, then go find something Charles will actually pay for since I’m so useless.”

  “She can’t go,” Noah said. “Caleb said the reward money was too much for anyone to ignore.”

  Wade released her with a shove and she fell against Mic. She stepped away from him, glad for the distance between them. “Reward money?” She glanced at Mic. “He meant the ransom, right?”

  Mic glanced away from her, looking uncertain. “No. Charles’ answer to our request was to...” He met her eyes and pulled the folded paper she’d asked about that second day from his pocket. “His answer was to make you an outlaw.”

  Lillian stared at the paper for a moment before she accepted it, unsure of whether or not she should unfold it since she already knew she wasn’t going to like what she’d see.

  Mic continued to talk, his voice low, almost soothing. “Charles accused you of stealing from him and offered a reward of $1000 for your capture.” He motioned to the paper. “If I’d known he’d go that far, I would have thought of another way.”

  “What other way was there?” Wade snarled.

  “I could have given him what he asked for.”

  “No. It’s not an option. Do you have a death wish, Mic?”

  She slowly unfolded the paper, the arguing around her drowned out by the sudden rush of fear crashing into her. At the very top was “$1,000 reward for the capture of Lillian Christian, member of the Nichols Boys Gang.” Below that was, “Wanted for fraud, theft, stagecoach robbery.” And below that was a very accurate drawing of her. The face wasn’t bad. She had a common enough face, the kind that could blend into a crowd. Even her name ‘Lillian Christian’ wasn’t enough to draw attention to her since she’d made it up before she hurried out of Virginia. But her hat was another matter. The ‘V’ etched into it next to the rose was a dead giveaway that Robert would recognize. It’d been the symbol in her family, and now it was the very thing that made her an easy target.

  She looked between Mic and Wade who were still arguing. “Who will see this?”

  “Everyone,” Wade snapped. “They post them at every jailhouse. It’s only a matter of time before the whole area knows. Then the territory. The longer you hide, the farther it spreads.”

  Too disturbed by the hat in the picture, she ignored Wade’s tone. Everyone? So it was only a matter of time before people back East would see it? If that was true, then she wasn’t safe anywhere. People all over would be looking for her. Who could resist $1,000? It would only be a matter of time before they took her to Charles, jail or—worse—Robert.

  And Robert knew she was worth a whole lot more than $1,000. He was probably already looking fo
r her. With the size of the United States, she had felt safe. He could’ve spent his whole life looking for her and never find her as Lillian Christian. She’d been so careful before she left, making sure she left no traces of her new life. Except for one thing. The hat. How could she have known that something so small could be so important?

  “Lillian! Are you coming?” Mic called.

  She looked up from the paper, unaware that the three had already made their way to the cabin. She glanced back at the poster and folded it. “Yes, I’m coming.” Later. There was no sense in making rash decisions. She’d decide what to do about this later.

  Chapter Eight

  Mic grabbed the pitcher on the bench outside the door on his way into the house, setting it on the table. Wade and Noah were already digging into the heaping platters of eggs, bacon, and biscuits which they slathered with fresh churned butter and chokecherry jam.

  Ignoring them, he stoked the fire in the potbelly stove and waited for Lillian to arrive. She’d been noticeably shaken by the wanted poster. He could only imagine her terror. It was disconcerting to learn one was a wanted fugitive from the law. At least she’d found out here rather than strangers who would turn her in for the absurd amount Charles was willing to pay.

  Unlike his brothers who’d been nearly killed by a posse of neighbors and friends ready to turn them in upon returning home from the sale of their cattle in Cheyenne, he’d managed unscathed. Wade was still healing from the wound that nearly took his life and Noah had been lucky the bullet had missed everything vital.

  Every plan they’d tried over the last five months had backfired, pushing him toward one course of action. It was something he planned to avoid at all costs. It would only get them killed. But his hand had been forced and now they had a woman who’d gotten tangled up in this mess.

  Lillian came into the cabin with her shoulders slumped, not making eye contact with anyone. She sat beside Noah, which was as far from Wade as she could get, and picked up the fork, choosing to nibble at the food rather than gulp it down like Noah and Wade did.

  “I’m going to head to the north pasture and check on the cattle today,” Wade announced between bites. “Probably swing past the old place and see how the fence is holding around the hay meadow.”

  Mic nodded and took a seat by Wade, dishing out a plate. “Better check on those new ewes while you’re there. Some should be getting far enough along to start dropping lambs.”

  Wade rolled his eyes. “Yes, Papa,” he teased.

  “I want to go too. I like the little lambs,” Noah said, bouncing on the bench excitedly. “Can I go, Michaiah?”

  Mic glanced at Lillian trying to gauge how she would feel about being alone with him for the next two days while his brothers were gone. He’d hate to tell Noah no, but he would if it put her mind at ease.

  Lillian pushed her food around her plate, seemingly oblivious to the conversation around her, lost in her own little world. She was probably trying to figure out what she would do next. He wished he could help her, but the most he could do was give her a place to stay until they got everything straightened out.

  He nodded his head and Noah grinned, leaping up from the table and heading for the door.

  Wade sent him a mocking glare and swiped a few more pieces of bacon from the plate. “Now you’ve done it. I’ll have to take him to see the lambs—and he’ll be devastated if there aren’t any—while you get to stay here in relative comfort.” He glanced at Lillian. “Have fun tending to the wanted captive.”

  Lillian glared at Wade and held up her fork. “I’d rather poke my eyes out with this than spend another minute with you. I’m glad you’re going to be gone.”

  Wade stared at her for several seconds, a strange look on his face, and then he laughed. “Watch that womanly virtue while I’m gone, darlin’. I’d hate to come back and find you’ve done as Noah suggested and got hitched to my brother.” He shuddered. “I don’t know if my hair would survive having you in the family.”

  Mic groaned. “Shut up, Wade.”

  Would his brother never learn? Lillian couldn’t tell when Wade was teasing or attacking her. Lately, neither could Mic. Jane had been less moody when she was pregnant.

  She scowled at him. “I hope you fall off a horse and break your neck.”

  Wade stood. “You aren’t the only one, darlin’. Although if I break my neck, I hope it kills me.” He walked out the door.

  She frowned. “I don’t even want to know what he means by that.” She glanced at Mic. “How long will I be relieved of him?”

  “Two days. It’ll take him that long to check on the stock and the fences around the fields.” Mic rose from the table. “I’ll get water heated for the dishes. When you’re through, it’ll be time for us to get to work.”

  “Alright.” She turned back to her plate and finally began eating in earnest.

  He grabbed the bucket of water he’d gotten earlier and set it on the stove to heat while Lillian finished her meal. “Scraps can go in the pail by the door for the pigs.”

  “Scraps?”

  “Any leftover food.”

  “Oh.” She nodded and examined her plate. “I don’t think there will be any. I learned I better eat when there’s food around. It’s not like I got a cook ready to go in the kitchen at a—” Her face flushed. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t complaining.”

  “Of course not.” He patted her on the shoulder as he passed by her to get the washtub, curious to know the rest of what she had been saying. “Eat up while I pack us a lunch for later.”

  “We’re not staying here?”

  “There are snares to check and a garden to tend to before it gets too hot.”

  “How far away from this place are we going to be? Are your mother’s boots sufficient for a long day’s walk?”

  “It’s a ways, and you’ll be fine.” He placed jerky, extra biscuits, and cheese into a tin. Maybe he could catch a trout for lunch and get some vegetables from the garden. “I thought we’d take Jimmy Boy and Kelly with us.”

  She finished eating the last of the bacon and shifted her gaze to him. After a moment, she said, “I’ve had the opportunity to learn to ride a horse. It was one of the lessons my father insisted on, but after losing my younger sister when she fell off one and died, I’ve been too afraid to get on one.” She released her breath. “I suppose when I told Wade I hoped he’d fall of his horse, I wasn’t being very ladylike.” She set the fork on her plate and rose to her feet. “I tried to hold my tongue, Mic, really I did, but that man brings out the worst in me.”

  “Right now Wade could anger a saint. He knows just where to hit.” He picked up the jar of jam and bowl of butter then carried them over to the cupboard. He tied the paper over the top of the jars. “He blames the world for the loss of his wife and child. But that doesn’t excuse how he treats people.”

  She stopped scraping the food from Noah’s plate. “He lost a wife and child?”

  “Five months ago.” He put the dishes into the hot bucket of water and scrubbed. “It’s made him bitter.”

  Lillian joined him beside the stove, handing him the dish. “Oh. Do I look like her? Is that why he doesn’t like me?”

  Mic hesitated, not sure what to tell her. Not sure he wanted to. In some ways it hurt to talk of Wade’s dead wife. “Wade loved Jane from the moment he met her. She was so full of passion and life and laughter. She had a way about her that could put anyone at ease. It was hard not to love her.” He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Wade was gone when she died and he blames himself for not being there when she needed him. He blames the man responsible for taking her and their son from him.”

  She slowly scraped the rest of the leftovers into the pail. “I’m sorry. No one should have to go through that. ”

  “No, they shouldn’t. It’s the only reason we give Wade leeway for his attitude. Otherwise, I would have laid him out flat for his behavior.” Mic finished washing the last dish and dried it. “Since you’re uncomfo
rtable with horses, we’ll leave Kelly in her stall and take Jimmy Boy to pack supplies.”

  She carried the remaining dishes to the bucket and held her hand out for the rag so she could wash them. “Let me finish cleaning them. I might not know much about life out here, but I can wash dishes. ”

  He smiled and handed her the rag. He hated doing the dishes. “You’re a sweetheart.” He kissed her on the cheek, noticing the pink flush on her cheeks before rushing for the door. “I’ll get Jimmy Boy ready.”

  In short order, he had Jimmy Boy saddled. His rifle went in its case and was strapped to the saddle. A shovel and hoe were tied to the pack. The lunch tin went into the saddlebag along with a blanket and waterskin.

  The dishwater was poured back into the river. What little scraps remaining were given to the pigs who were more than happy to slurp them up between squeals of delight. And they were ready to leave.

  Mic grinned and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.”

  It took a moment for her to respond, but she clasped his hand in return. He winced at the thought of his calloused hand rubbing against her soft skin, yet he didn’t let go. He was enjoying the closeness far too much.

  He set off at a pace that was a little too fast for her but slowed as they turned down a narrow path. He accommodated her, aware that she probably hadn’t done a day of hard labor in her life. He wasn’t sure she was up to the task, but she went willingly enough and he wouldn’t press her to work harder than she was able to.

  “Do you come this way a lot?” she asked, her gaze focused on the even path ahead.

  “Once a day to check snares.”

  “How do you have time for much else?”

  “This life doesn’t leave much for extra time, but I wouldn’t trade it for all the gold in the world. There is something so gratifying about working with the land, surviving by hard work and your wits. It’s peaceful and quiet.”