Here Comes the Bride (10 page)

“No. The only thing broken was poor ol’ Harm’s ego. He refused to believe me when I told him I would not marry him; he assumed I would eventually go along with it. Especially after . . .” She stopped, racked by another shudder.

“After what?”

Tess shook her head. “Nothing. He thought he could convince me in his own little way. That’s when I knew I had to leave Boston.”

Bile rose in Gabe’s throat. “What did he do to you?”

She smiled through the fear that lingered in her voice. “Nothing worse than what I did to him I suppose.”

“Did he . . .”

“It’s in the past, Gabriel, let’s not dwell on it.”

God help him if they should ever meet, Gabe fumed. His fist would dwell on ol’ Harm’s face for a while. He swiped the back of his hand across his brow and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Come on,” he said. “That’s enough for today. I’m hungry.”

“I’m about half starved myself.” Tess laughed, the talk of Harmon Stiles left in the dirt.

“Good,” Gabe said. He lifted the overflowing bowl of beans with one hand and reached for her hand with the other. “Let’s go see what we can rustle up for supper.”

“Bart’s here,” Gabe announced before taking another bite of his cold ham sandwich.

Tess’s gaze flew to the window. “What? I don’t see him.”

“You always hear Bart first,” Gabe explained. “Listen.”

Tess strained to pick out the distant whistle. She could barely hear it, and if Gabe hadn’t said otherwise, she would have dismissed it as wind.

“What is he whistling?” she asked.

“‘Old Dan Tucker.’”

“I don’t think I’m familiar with that song.”

Gabe shook his head. “Just as well. We’d best make more sandwiches—he’ll be hungry.”

Tess hurried to gather the bread and ham, her stomach lurching with every passing second. She hardly had time to catch her breath before Bart was at the door, scowling in her direction.

“Howlin’ Leonard, woman—did you have to come
all
the way out here? I been on the road damn near a week.”

“Hello, Bart,” Tess squeaked. “Yes, I’m sorry. I should have told you where I was going, that was very wrong of me, but I had to get away. You understand, don’t you? I didn’t think you’d mind, although I have to admit I rather expected you to be upset with me for taking your money. I apologize for that too.” Her words tumbled out faster than she could breathe. “I see you’re still wearing your gun belt. Did you have a hard time finding me? I didn’t think you would since I told you I was headed west and you filled me with the notion of how wonderful El Cielo was and, oh dear, you didn’t have the ill fortune of staying in that horrid little town called Hidden Valley, did you? It’s really no wonder it’s called Hidden Valley—it should be hidden from the whole world. I made the mistake of actually taking a meal there in the rat’s nest they call a restaurant. I hope you didn’t make the same grave error.”

Gabe had not so much as raised his head from his plate through the entire exchange, but a huge grin spread wider and wider across his face with every word that flew from her lips.

Bart pulled out the straight-backed chair beside Gabe’s, turned it backward and sat astride it, his arms crossed over the back.

“Does she always go on like this?” he asked, reaching for a sandwich.

Gabe shrugged. “Only when she’s nervous.”

“Why’s she nervous? You being your usual prickly self?”

Gabe shook his head and grinned more. “It’s you. She’s afraid you’re going to turn her over to the sheriff or take her back to Butte with you.”

“Hello, gentlemen,” Tess interrupted, more than a little annoyed. “I’m standing right here you know. I would appreciate it if you spoke to me instead of about me.”

“You heard the lady,” Gabe chuckled. “Talk to her.”

Bart leaned in closer, whispering loudly into his brother’s ear. “If she’s gonna go on like that again, I’d really rather not.”

“I know what you mean—it’s enough to test Job, isn’t it?” He shot Tess a teasing wink and went back to his supper. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“Hell, Gabe,” Bart snorted. “I wouldn’t even be here at all if it weren’t for her.”

“Yes,” Tess interrupted again. “You’ve come for your money, then, is that right? I don’t have it all to give back to you yet, Bart, but as soon as I get the rest, I will pay you back—with interest. I used what I needed to get me out here on the stage, and believe you me, if I’d have known what kind of a trip I was in for, I would have seriously considered staying in Butte with you. Of course, I would have had you bring me here eventually, but that is neither here nor there right now, is it? Shall I go get your money now, or will you be staying with us for a while? It’s up in the bed . . . it’s upstairs. Your money.”

“What in tarnation are you goin’ on about, woman? I ain’t here for my money—although now that you mention it, damn right I want it back—all of it!”

He’d barely finished the sentence when Tess scurried from the room to fetch his money. Bart rubbed his forehead with filthy fingers.

“Do you get this dizzy talkin’ to her?” he asked.

“Hell,” Gabe muttered. “I get dizzy just lookin’ at her.”

The minute he heard Bart snort, Gabe realized he’d spoken a little louder than he’d intended. His face flamed, his shoulders tensed, waiting for the ribbing his brother was sure to give him.

“You and her?” Bart laughed. “Hot damn, Gabe, that didn’t take you long. Never figured you for a lady’s man—especially after Catarina. Figured you’d settle down with a big ol’ farm girl and have yerself a whole passel of kids by now.”

Gabe’s face darkened. “Well, as you can see, you figured wrong.”

“Yeah.” Bart chuckled again. “But you and her? She’s so . . . so . . .”

“She’s not staying.” Gabe pushed himself away from the table and deposited his dishes on the sideboard. “If you don’t take her back with you, she’ll be on Friday’s stage.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to be goin’? And why the hell would I take her with me?” Bart almost shouted.

Gabe stopped and turned to face his brother. “Why wouldn’t you? Isn’t she why you’re here?”

Bart’s head bobbed between a half-nod and a half-shrug. “Yes and no,” he said.

“Damnation,” Gabe snapped. “Why can’t anything—
anything—
be easy with her? This isn’t going to be a great long-winded story, is it?”

“Hey,” Bart said, holding his hand up defensively. “I ain’t her. I’ll tell you straight out why I’m here. First off, the reason I chased her all the way out here is on account that no good Gribbs broke outta jail and I reckon he’ll be hot on her heels, too. So I come out here to warn her. Second reason—”

“Hold on,” Gabe interrupted. “Who’s Gribbs?”

“Eli Gribbs.” When Gabe didn’t respond, Bart let out a low curse. “She didn’t tell you ’bout him? The poker game . . . ?”

“She said the fella’s name was Simms or something.”

Bart nodded slowly. “Right, she don’t even know the truth herself.”

“What truth?”

“Turns out Gribbs killed Simms some months back an’ just up an’ took over the man’s life—everything he owned—includin’ his name and Tess.”

“Why?”

“Who the hell knows?” Bart shrugged. “Fact is, Gribbs’s killed more ’n a few times.”

Gabe rubbed his weary eyes with the heel of his hand.

“I should’ve known it’d be complicated,” he grumbled. “What’s the other reason you’re here?”

Bart swallowed hard. “I’m here ’cause of somethin’ she said to me back there in Butte that got me to thinkin’.”

“Which was?”

Bart took another deep breath before he continued. “Well, it would seem Miss Tess thinks maybe I bin too hard on you and we should talk it out—man to man.”

It was Gabe’s turn to laugh now.

“Well I’ll be buggered,” he said. “I got the same lecture myself not more than a few hours ago. ‘Family is family’ and all that crap.”

“Yup,” Bart nodded. “Same lecture.”

They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in thought, fighting to find the next words. It was Gabe who spoke first.

“She does have a point, though, I reckon.”

“I reckon.” Another pregnant pause, then, “She sure don’t waste any time gettin’ under a body’s skin, does she?”

Gabe’s neck prickled, his jaw clenched. “Are you saying . . . ?”

“Take it easy, Gabe,” Bart chuckled. “I ain’t talkin’ ’bout that. All I’m sayin’ is she sure ain’t like the rest of the womenfolk in this sorry little town. There’s somethin’ different ’bout her; she’s got real grit.”

“She’s headstrong.” Gabe’s eyes stared blankly.

“She’s got spirit.”

“Spirits get broken out here.”

Bart shook his head again, exhaling loudly. Gabe had never been one to change his mind once it was made up and it was unlikely he would start now—Tess Kinley or no Tess Kinley.

“Are you figuring on staying a while then?” Gabe asked.

“I reckon, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh hell, Bart, this is your home, too, you know,” Gabe said. “Although I was kind of hoping she’d have some company on her trip back to the city.”

Tess appeared in the doorway at that moment, looking more defiant than ever.

“Gabriel,” she said steadily, “I’ve told you before—I am not leaving.”

“Gabriel?” Bart choked. “You let her call you Gabriel?”

“That is his name, isn’t it?” Tess huffed, thrusting the money toward him.

“Well, yeah, a’ course it is, but howlin’ Leonard, I ain’t never heard no one call him that—not even Mama.”

“I don’t see why not,” Tess snipped. “It’s a fine name for a man—especially him.”

Bart’s eyes widened with laughter as he stared from Gabe to Tess and back again. Gabe knew he should be bothered by it, but God help him, he liked hearing her say his name—he couldn’t help himself. Still, he had a point to make. . . .

“Yes,” he said pointedly at Bart, “she uses my full name, and, yes, Tess”—he turned back to face her—“you will leave.”

Tess tossed her head and moved to stand behind Bart. She closed her eyes and mumbled quietly before she spoke.

“Well, Gabriel, I don’t really think you have a say in the matter anymore.”

“What?” he bellowed. “You’re damn right I have a say in the matter—this is my house!”

“It’s also Bart’s. You just said so yourself.”

Gabe’s mouth fell open. “That doesn’t mean . . .”

“Yes,” she said, her voice gaining strength with each word. “It means everything. If Bart stays, so do I since, if we want to get picky about it, I do belong to him, don’t I?”

“What?” It was Bart who hollered this time. “Look here, woman, you don’t belong to me or anyone, and I don’t give a good God damn if you stay or not. I came out here for two reasons. The first bein’ to tell you your old friend Gribbs escaped and is probably gonna come lookin’ for you.”

“Who’s Gribbs?” she asked.

Bart repeated his explanation as quickly as possible and returned his attention to his food.

“Why on earth would he come for me?” Tess asked, eyes widening.

“’Cause I guess he figures you’re still his property and you got some sort of value to him.”

“But . . .”

“We’ll go talk to Sheriff Nicholls tomorrow and see if he’s heard anything about Gribbs.”

Tess pursed her lips, eyeing each brother in turn. Bart was as stubborn as his older brother, both of them sitting there as if they had the last word in this predicament. She’d show them.

“What was the second reason?” she asked with surprising calm.

“I got some unfinished business with my brother, and I mean to straighten it out once and for all.”

“So you will be staying here at El Cielo?”

“Yup.”

Tess’s brain picked up steam. “If Mr. Gribbs has escaped custody, wouldn’t I be safer here with the two of you than on a stage back to Butte by myself?”

Bart looked at Gabe expectantly. When Gabe made no attempt to answer, Bart’s brown eyes narrowed first at him, then at Tess.

“Look, Tess, if you got designs on stayin’ here, then you best work something out with my brother ’cause it ain’t got nothin’ to do with me no more.”

Gabe’s told-you-so grin made her want to slap both of them.

“Now don’t go and get yourself all in a lather, Tess,” he chortled in his best I-told-you-so way. “I’ll bring in the tub for you and you can have yourself one of those long baths you like so much while Bart and I go have a talk, how’s that?”

A warm bath versus slapping the condescending Calloway brothers. Tess weighed the choices and wisely opted for the former. Slapping them would not win her any ground, but at least with a bath she could relax and form a new strategy.

Gabe hauled in the huge metal tub while Bart filled the wood box and Tess busied herself with building up the fire and putting water on to heat. The two men closed the door behind them, and Tess watched from the window as they wandered to the corral and leaned over the fence. You’d never know to look at them that they were brothers unless you saw them walk. They both exhibited a self-assured confidence that to the unfamiliar onlooker seemed almost arrogant. The brothers did not merely walk, they moved with long, purposeful strides, their backs straight, heads high. Even at the corral, they both stood the same—their right feet resting on the lowest rail, their arms crossed over the top one, chins resting on their hands.

With a small sigh, she pulled the drapes closed and set about with her bath. She realized what a luxury this was, having two baths in less than three days. She relished every minute of it, climbing out only when the water had cooled almost to a chill.

 

 

Gabe and Bart stared silently out into the empty corral for long moments before Gabe spoke.

“How have you been?”

Bart shrugged. “All right I guess. Busy.”

Gabe nodded down toward the other man’s gun. “I reckon that there’s had a lot of use then, am I right?”

“Not as much as you’d think,” he answered. “I only use it when I have to.”

Another nod. “You plan on carrying it around with you while you’re here?”

Bart smirked. “Well now, that all depends. Am I going to have to defend Miss Kinley’s honor from my big bad brother?”

Gabe didn’t even pretend to smile. “I wish to hell she hadn’t come here, Bart.”

Bart’s smile faded. “That bad?”

Now Gabe did smile. “That good,” he corrected.

“You haven’t . . .”

“Hell no!” he bellowed, his smile belying the frown across his brow. “Not that I wouldn’t like to, mind you, but then I’d never get her outta here.”

Bart scratched his head. “I’m missin’ somethin’ here, Gabe. If you love her that much, why the hell would you want her to leave?”

Gabe backed away from his perch. “I never said I loved her.”

“Yeah, right.” Bart looked as though he was going to argue the point further, but thought better of it. “Whatever you say. Either way, why’re you so fired up that she leave? A body’s just gotta see the way she looks at you to know what’s on her mind.”