Bushedwhacked Bride (30 page)
Gabe stepped forward, grinning. “Hey, Lila, honey, what was
you
doing there when you lost it?”
Amid guffaws from the others, Ma emitted a howl of
outrage and batted Gabe across the shoulders. “Hush up that lewd talk, you godless infidel!”
Gabe cringed. “Yes ‘um..”
Cole eyed Lila sternly. “You girls had best be going.”
“Sure, honey.” Lila smiled at Jessica. “Thanks for the
cameo, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck.”
Lila worked the reins and the wagon rattled off, the other
whores shouting out goodbyes to the boys and blowing
kisses. Soon the men, Jessica, and Ma were left alone in the
yard.
Ma brushed off her hands in a gesture of disgust. “Good
riddance, is what I say. Now all of you go find your go-to-
meeting clothes. I say some redemption is in order.”
“But, Ma, we didn’t do nothing,” protested Billy.
Ma charged on her youngest son. “Don’t lie to me, you
little pissant. ‘Sides, your day of judgment is at hand.”
“Ma, quit blustering,” Billy scolded.
“Blustering?” Ma yelled, waving a fist. “You think I’m f
unnin’ you, you horse’s patooty? It plumb slipped my
mind yesterday owing to all the excitement, but I heard
tell in town that some Pinkerton boys been asking ques
tions about the Reklaw Gang—there, and at the mines.
Yessir.” Ma nodded in violent emphasis.
At this revelation, Jessica gasped, and Cole and his
brothers exchanged anxious glances. Cole addressed his
mother. “Ma, is that really true?”
“Hell, yes, it’s true. You think I’m just making it up to whip you sidewinders into line? Them Pinkertons have
been spotted hereabouts. If you don’t believe me, you can
ask whilst we’re at church today.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will,” said Cole. He glanced at Jessica, and she shook her head ominously.
“Now go get dressed, the lot of you,” Ma ordered.
“Maybe it ain’t too late for you to seek salvation.”
While Luke, Wes, and Gabe stared guiltily at their feet,
Billy faced down his mother. “I ain’t going today, Ma, Pinkertons or not. I got other business to attend to.”
Ma snorted. “Other business, eh? I know what you’re
conjurin’ up, you varmint. You think you can win back
Miss Dumpling after your evil doin’s yesterday. Well,
you’ll be rewarded with britches full of her daddy’s buck
shot for your trouble.”
Billy stubbornly crossed his arms. “I said, I got other business to attend to.”
Ma waved him off. “Aw, get out of here. You’re bound
for hell, anyhow. Come along, Jessie, I’ll fix your hair.”
As the boys dispersed, Jessica started to follow Ma, but
Cole caught her hand. “Ma, she’ll be along in a minute.”
Ma waved a hand in disgust and lumbered up the stairs.
Cole smiled at Jessica. “Come with me for a walk first.
We’ve got stuff to talk over.”
“All right,” she said.
They strolled off into the pines to the west of the home
stead. The morning was clear and crisp, and Jessica could hear mourning doves cooing. A brisk wind blew, tossing
about pine needles and wafting the scent of evergreen.
She glanced at Cole, noting the abstracted look on his handsome face, and again remembered their beautiful lovemaking, as well as Lila’s departure moments earlier.
‘Tell me something, Cole,” she murmured.
“Sure.”
“Did you tell Lila about us?”
He grinned. “I told her you’re my woman now. You
mind?”
She frowned. “Well, I wish you’d consulted me before making such announcements.”
He didn’t comment, though his smile faded.
“So what’s on your mind now?” she pressed. “The
Pinkertons?”
He sighed. “It’s a worry—but not unexpected. I knew
Miser was bound to hire ‘em sooner or later.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
“Reckon we’ll have to be more careful.”
“That’s all?”
Unexpectedly, he turned to her and grinned. “How
‘bout we get hitched?”
She was stunned. “Just like that?”
“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve asked you,” he
pointed out. “And I’d say it’s pretty natural under the cir
cumstances.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m
saying I want us to be husband and wife, Jessie. To live together every day, and sleep together at night.”
Though thrilled, Jessica also felt troubled. “Not every
thing can be resolved in bed, Cole.”
He reached out to pluck a pine needle from her hair. “No? Seems like we’ve gone a pretty good job so far.”
“Nothing was settled.”
“You’re not convinced yet?” Eyes gleaming wickedly,
he ran his hand over her bottom.
“Cole, no,” she said breathlessly. “We can’t just do this
again and again. I could become pregnant.”
The unabashed scoundrel only chuckled. “Isn’t that the
point of the exercise?”
“Not for two people who aren’t married!”
He grinned. “Well?”
“Oh, you’re impossible.” She pushed him away and
started off again, though a telltale smile tugged at her
lips.
He fell into step beside her. “Jessie, why are you so
dead set against marrying me?”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You can ask that
after what your mother just revealed? I can think of a
million reasons.”
“Such as?”
“Such as you’re an outlaw—one being hunted by the
Pinkerton Detective Agency.”
“My occupation might change.”
“Oh, really?” she mocked. “You sure haven’t shown
any such tendency so far.”
“Which doesn’t mean I won’t. Why else won’t you
marry me?”
She released a long, troubled sigh. “We’re different,
Cole. In so many ways. I’m
. . .
“ Lamely she finished, “I’m not from here.”
“I know you’re not from here—and I don’t care.”
“You don’t understand. I’m
really
not from here.”
He frowned. “Explain that.”
Jessica felt at a loss. How could she explain? Even if she
told Cole the truth, would he ever believe her? But wasn’t
it time she offered him some explanation, whether he
comprehended it or not? Didn’t she owe him that much?
Glancing at the class ring on her finger, she made her decision. Lifting her hand, she asked, “Cole, do you remember this ring?”
“‘Course I do, sugar. My brothers stole it from you the
day we kidnapped you, and later I gave it back.”
“That’s right. Do you remember the day you gave it
back—how you asked me about the
University
of
New
Mexico
, and what the number 1994 means?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “I knew it couldn’t be the number
of notches on your bedpost, as Wesley had teased.” He reached out to caress her cheek. “And we sure know better than that now, don’t we, sugar? You might not be a vir
gin, but you’re no seasoned line gal, either.”
Jessica cast him a chiding look. “Spare me your fascination with my sexual prowess. My point is, those num
bers
weren’t
equal to the notches on my bedpost—”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
Jessica took a bracing breath. “Cole, the numbers were
a year. The
year
1994. The year I graduated from college.
From the
University
of
New Mexico
.”
Cole frowned over this a moment, then howled with laughter. “The
year
1994? Why, that’s the craziest notion I’ve ever heard. Everyone knows the
year
1994 is over a
hundred years in the future.”
“That’s right,” she stated calmly. “I’m from the fu
ture—from one hundred and eleven years in the future to be exact—the year 1999.”
Cole’s gaze implored the heavens, then he hooted another laugh. “And I’m from the Dark Ages, honey.”
“You don’t believe me!”
He waved a hand. “Do you blame me? You’re talking hokum and hogwash!”
She faced him earnestly, continuing in an impassioned
rush. “Cole, you must believe me. I’m from the year
1999, and I don’t know how I got here, except that I was
in an antique stagecoach with some colleagues from the
university where I taught; then we passed through
Reklaw Gorge; then I hit my head; then everything
changed. Before I knew it, the men I was riding with be
came their own ancestors, the year became 1888, and you
and the others rode up and kidnapped me.”
He felt her forehead. “You have a fever, sugar?”
She stamped her foot. “Cole, damn it, listen to me.”
“I can’t. You’re jabbering like a lunatic.”
“It’s the truth. I tell you I’m from the future. You’ve
wondered why my people haven’t come after me—well,
they can’t, because my real family exists in another time.
I left behind a mother and father there, an older brother, a job, a life. I don’t know why I was brought here—but
perhaps it was to reform you and your brothers, to save
you from the hangman’s tree. But I do know that if I can’t
even figure out how I got here, or why, then how can I ever be sure I’ll be allowed to stay here? Under the circumstances, of course I can’t marry you.”
Cole’s expression hardened. “You finished?”
“Actually, no. There’s much more.”
He held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Why?”
He gave a bitter laugh. “Why? Because if you wanted
to say no, Jessica, why didn’t you just say no?”
“You still don’t believe me.”
“Not a single word,” he retorted.
She groaned. “There are other reasons, too, Cole.”
“I’m not sure I can bear to hear this.”
“You—you’ve never mentioned love,” she said.
Cole grasped her chin in his hand, and hurt shone in his
eyes. “And what if I did, Jessie? Would that change any
thing for you? Or would you just keep on lying to me to
keep us apart?”
“Cole, I’m
not
lying.”
“Sure, you aren’t. Just like you haven’t invented a hundred other excuses to shove me away.”
Jessica could only stare at him, miserably torn, until he
dropped his hand and walked away. She clenched her
fists in frustration. Ever since she had arrived in this mys
tifying nineteenth-century world, nothing had really
made sense to her. Now she had told Cole the truth, hoping to improve things between them
. . . and she had only made things much worse.
***
Returning to the bunkhouse, Cole felt equally hurt and torn. He had opened up to Jessie, sharing his heart and
soul, trusting her completely. And how had he been re
warded? By her throwing up new barriers between them,
even inventing crazy stories to keep them apart.
She was from the year 1999? Hell, that was just plain
crazy. Was she crazy? He doubted it. Maybe she was just
too smart. What he couldn’t doubt was that she was de
termined for them never to marry, or even to have a real,
lasting relationship.
Maybe he’d been wrong ever to trust her in the first
place.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Billy Reklaw was perched on a rise, anxiously watching
the Hicks house in the hollow beneath him. For more than
two hours, he’d been waiting to catch a glimpse of his sweetheart, and his patience was wearing thin.
Like the Reklaws, the Hicks lived on a farm. Their
property was smaller, but the main house, a story-and-a-half white frame structure, was much larger. Since Billy
had been here, he’d watched Peaches Hicks appear to
feed the chickens, her ma come outside and pump water, and her pa hitch up the buckboard near the steps of the house. Yet after Mr. Hicks had gone back inside, no one
had emerged for at least twenty minutes.
All at once Billy tensed at the distant, muffled creak of
the front door. He watched Mr. and Mrs. Hicks troop out, both dressed in Sunday best—Mrs. Hicks holding a Bible
and her husband carrying food baskets. A starched, bon
neted Peaches appeared next, followed by his darling
Dumpling in crisp green muslin and jaunty feathered hat.
Billy strained to get a better glimpse of her. Lord, she
looked pretty in that full-skirted gown, with those feath
ers and her shapely hips bobbing as she went down the
steps. He couldn’t make out her expression this far away,
but he knew her face was downcast.
Damnation, it looked like the whole family was heading
off to church, which meant he’d have no chance to speak
with Dumpling alone. If only she’d been the one to feed the
chickens or fetch the water. But now his goose was cooked.
If he tried to approach her, her pa would no doubt fill his britches with buckshot, just as Ma had warned.
The family headed for the buckboard, Dumpling lag
ging behind. Abruptly Dumpling stopped, then began to
shriek and stamp her foot. Billy went wide-eyed. He
watched his sweetheart wave her plump arms and heard
her shout, “I can’t, Mama!” Then she went racing back up
the steps. Mrs. Hicks rushed after her, while Peaches and
her pa waited.
A few moments later, Mrs. Hicks emerged from the
house alone. She approached her husband, gesturing in
frustration. The parents spoke tensely for a moment or
two, then they and Peaches climbed in the wagon and
headed off.
“Hot damn!” Billy exclaimed. “So the little vixen is alone, after all!”
Quickly he mounted his horse and galloped down into
the valley . . .
***
Dumpling Hicks sat sobbing on her mother’s horsehair settee. She was so mad at Bobby Lively, she could spit
nails at him. She’d gone to all the trouble of baking him
a cake, had driven out to his farm to deliver it, only to find
him betraying her with a cheap floozy. She’d bawled
about it all night long, till she’d soaked her sheets.
She should have known Bobby was no good, espe
cially from the way his brothers always teased them both.
He couldn’t be the only good apple in that rotten bunch.
She’d been a fool to allow herself to fall in love with him.
But fall in love with him she had, and now he’d betrayed her. How she’d love to get her hands on the little rascal and shake him till he was dead.
Why did she have to miss him so? Her heart felt as if
it were busted in two. She pulled out a handkerchief and
loudly blew her nose.
All at once she tensed as she heard the sound of hoof-
beats. Had Ma and Pa returned already? Had they forgot
their Bible?
No, the sound was not of a team but of a single rider.
Dumpling rushed to the front door and pushed aside
the sash curtain just in time to see Bobby Lively march
ing up her steps. Oh, the nerve of him! Quickly she threw
the lock, brushed the curtain back into place, and re
treated into the hallway.
Now he was banging on her door—and yelling! “Dumpling, I know you’re in there! Let me in!”
“Go away!”
“Let me in or, by damn, I’ll break down this door!”
“Go ahead!”
“Oh, yeah? What will your pa say when he comes
home?”
“You go away, Bobby Lively, or I’ll shoot you!”
“You’ll
what?”
“I’m going for the shotgun now!”
Dumpling raced across the living room and grabbed
her daddy’s shotgun hanging over the fireplace. She was
attempting to throw the lever when she heard the front
door blast open, and then Bobby Lively raced inside and
vaulted across the room. A split second later they were
struggling over the weapon.
“Put that down, you crazy woman!” Billy ordered,
wild-eyed.
“Not till I shoot you dead, I won’t!” Dumpling vowed,
trying to yank the weapon free of his strong fingers.
“Damn it, woman, put the gun down before you kill us
both!”
On they struggled, Dumpling gripping the shotgun
with all her might, Billy trying to wrench it away from
her. Then both flinched as the weapon discharged and buckshot sprayed the ceiling.
Smoke filled the room, and flecks of ceiling plaster fell
down on their heads. Dumpling dropped the gun and
stared, horrified, at Bobby. He’d gone deathly pale.
“Bobby, I’m sorry . . .”
His eyes burned with anger, and his voice sent a chill down her spine. “You’ve done it now, woman. And I’m flat gonna wear you out.”
For a moment Dumpling could only stare at him. Then,
as the import of his statement sank in, she was off with a
gasp, racing for the stairs.
His expression grim, Billy followed Dumpling,
quickly climbing the stairs. He could not believe this fool
female had actually tried to shoot him! Well, she’d be sit
ting on pillows for a month after he was finished with her!
He arrived on the upstairs landing in time to watch a
flash of skirts disappear around the corner, and to hear a door slam.
He stalked around the corner to her door, tried the
knob, and found it locked. Infuriated, he began to pound.
“Damn it, woman, don’t make me break down another door! We’re gonna have this out—now!”
“I have another gun!” Dumpling yelled.
Rage blinded Billy. “By God, you do and—” The rest of his statement was drowned out as he kicked open the door.
He heard Dumpling scream, and his gaze darted to her. To
his relief, he saw that she didn’t have another weapon. In
stead she was cowering on her bed, curled up in a ball with
her back to the wall and her hands over her face.
Well, she should be shrinking away, after almost
killing him!
“Not so brave now, eh?” he jeered, starting toward her
and unbuckling his belt.
He heard a muffled sob; then Dumpling moved aside
her hands and whimpered at the sight of him whipping
off his belt. “Bobby, please don’t beat me.”
“Turn over, woman, and take your medicine,” came his
obdurate reply.
“Please,
Bobby.”
He heard the tears in her voice and cursed as conflicting emotions warred within him. Pausing before her bed,
he gazed down at her stricken, tear-streaked face, and ten
derness filled him. For a long moment he struggled to
contain his anger.
“Woman, you almost killed me,” he said at last.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Billy hesitated, the belt still in his hand.
Her gaze beseeched him. “Please, I’m really sorry.”
With a groan, Billy hooked the belt back around his slim
waist. “Will you talk to me now, you stubborn female?”
She nodded.
“Calmly?”
Though her features were clenched up with pride,
Dumpling replied, “Yeah. Calmly.”
Billy sat down beside her on the bed. When she
flinched, he reached out to stroke her cheek, which was
hot from exertion and wet with tears. “Easy, sugar, I ain’t
gonna hurt you. In fact, I’m sorry, too.”
At that, Dumpling appeared amazed, sitting up on the
bed. But hurt stained her features and tears choked her
voice. “Sorry? Are you really? You was kissing a whore,
Bobby Lively.”
Billy groaned. “I wasn’t kissing her. She was sitting in
my lap.”
“Same difference.”
“Look, them women were just some old friends of
Co—of Clay’s that was passing through.”
She sniffed. “So you just had to paw ‘em, eh?”
“I didn’t paw the woman. She sat down in my lap.”
“And you’re too puny to shove her off, huh?”
Billy reached out to brush a wisp of hair from
Dumpling’s forehead. “You’re right, sugar. I should have
dumped the Jezebel right on her butt the moment she
came close.”
Dumpling struggled against a smile.
“Dumpling, look at me.”
She did, eyeing him warily.
“Honey, nothing happened.”
She struggled for a moment, then hiccoughed. “I don’t
believe you.”
“Why in hell not?”
She was shuddering. “ ‘Cause I ain’t pretty like them.
And they ain’t fat like me.”
Billy clutched Dumpling’s hand and stared at her with his heart in his eyes. “Honey, I think you’re as pretty as a meadow full of spring flowers.”
She stared, her expression uncertain.
“You know, I waited outside for hours this morning, just to catch a glimpse of you,” he went on cajolingly.
“Then when I thought you was leaving with your folks
for church, it plumb broke my heart, you looked so deli
cious in that purty gown.”
Dumpling’s face was rapt with hope. “Oh, Bobby.”
“I was so grateful, sugar, when you run back inside the
house.”
“Was you really?”
“Yeah, I was happy because I knew I would be able to
see you, and we could talk.”
She bit her lip.
“Don’t you believe me yet, sugar?”
She pulled her fingers away. “I don’t know.”
He eyed her sternly. “Give me back your hand, woman.”
Hesitantly, she complied.
Billy leaned closer, until he could smell the sweetness
of her rosewater cologne, the womanly scent of her.
“Honey, I’m going to tell you again: Nothing happened.
And here’s the proof.” Billy stared solemnly into
Dumpling’s eyes and pressed her fingers to his crotch.
At his bold move, Dumpling’s eyes grew even larger
than Billy
felt
. She struggled to pull free. “Bobby, no!”
But his grip was like iron and he wouldn’t release her fingers, instead deliberately running them up and down
his aching shaft. Though it was torture to speak, he man
aged. “I’ve been saving this for you, sugar.”
A little gasp proved she was aroused, too. Nonetheless,
she sputtered, “Bobby, don’t, this is—”
“What, honey? Scandalous? Bad? Are you ashamed of what you do to me? ‘Cause, honey, I ain’t. And there ain’t
no other woman on God’s earth who can do
this
to me.”
Now Dumpling didn’t speak. She merely gulped.
“Come ‘ere.”
“Bobby!”
Billy hauled Dumpling close and ardently kissed her.
When she trembled sweetly in his arms, he couldn’t bear it.
He plunged his tongue deep inside her mouth, loving the
sounds of her muffled whimpers. His hand reached for her
big, soft breast, and he tumbled her beneath him on the bed.
Feeling her nipple harden beneath his fingers, he was in
heaven.
As both of them came up for air, she gasped, “Bobby,
what are you doing?”
Still kneading her breast, he whispered huskily, “Loving you, sugar. You gonna fight me?”
Dumpling groaned in helpless abandon. “I can’t. Lord
knows, I should, but I can’t. I just want you so much,
too.”
“Oh, sugar. I’m so glad. And don’t worry. It’ll be so
good.”