Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (71 page)

Her friend Maddie had fought and screamed when the Indians dragged her off onto one of their horses. She had become so hysterical, the men had beaten her into submission until she passed out. Danica had made a decision to cooperate, and bide her time to figure a way out of her predicament. She’d done what she had to in order to survive. While she and Maddie were taken away from the site of the raid, half the warriors had stayed behind, and Danica never knew what happened to the rest of her party.

“You have brought shame into this house. I will not have it,” her father bellowed. “You will not defile my home or name in such a manner. How could you do it?  Any proper woman would have done what was right, and killed herself, rather than allow a heathen savage to touch her. Since you’ve brought this on yourself, you’ll live with the shame for the rest of your life. I’ll see to that.”

Danica stood rooted in shock. She’d always known her father despised all Indians, but she never realized until now how deep his hatred ran. She looked past him to see two men walk slowly into the living room. They looked rough, with dark leers on their faces when they saw Josh. Danica took a step forward, hoping to deflect their attention to her. Josh had no hope of fighting these two in his current condition. She suddenly feared for his safety. How was she going to get him out of here?

“Plumb shame,” one of the men said, fingering the butt end of his revolver. “Your daughter’s sure nice to look at, Mr. Jensen. But no decent man’ll have her now.”

“Waste of a good woman, if you ask me,” the other man said.

Danica’s father glared at the men at his side, and waved his hand through the air. “Go get Preacher Halpin, if he’s not too drunk yet. My daughter’s getting married.”

“What?” Danica shouted. “What are you talking about, Papa? I’m not marrying one of . . .one of them.” She pointed at the two men. “Martha said you haven’t been right in the mind. I think she’s right. Too much whiskey has addled your brain.”

Her father lunged forward, and grabbed her by the arm, his fingers biting into her skin. She glared at him, refusing to be intimidated. “If you enjoy those Indians so much, you can be married to one. Since no white man will want you, it’ll be your punishment in the eyes of our Lord. At least I’ll have done my duty as father to you, and get you married off.”

Comprehension dawned. Danica’s eyes grew wide. She glanced over her shoulder. Josh struggled to rise from the settee, pulling his legs to the ground and clutching at his side in an effort to stand. One of her father’s men walked up to him and stuck his gun in Josh’s chest, preventing him from getting up.

“He’s not an Indian, Papa. He’s Samuel Osborne’s son. Surely you know him, and his family. He and the Russells have always been respected members in this community. Josh is no more a heathen and a savage than you or I.”

Her father laughed, a short, disdainful laugh. “Everyone knows Samuel Osborne had an Indian wife. It’s almost as bad.” Impatiently, he turned to his second man, who still stood next to him. “Go fetch that preacher, and tell him to make it quick, and have a legal marriage document with him.”

Danica folded her hands across her chest. “You can’t make me get married. I won’t do it.”

“I can, and I will,” her father boomed. He shoved her toward the settee. With hate filled eyes, he glared at Josh, who sat silently, his dark eyes trained on the man who held the revolver to his chest. His expression was unreadable, but the air around her nearly crackled with his fury that he no doubt felt. If he hadn’t been injured and weak, Danica knew those two men wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Make one move, Injun, and I’ll put a bullet in your gut,” the man with the gun said, a menacing smile on his face. Josh’s lips twitched in a snarl.

“Is he the one who begot that bastard you’re carrying?” Papa just wouldn’t stop. Tears of anger and shame at her father ran down her cheeks. She looked toward Josh, wanting him to know she hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. What had she been thinking, bringing him here into the house? She knew her father hated Indians. She wished she had asked the two prospectors to take Josh somewhere else, and she could have dealt with her father on her own. The man was drunk and out of his mind. He couldn’t force a marriage on her, or on Josh. It wouldn’t be binding.

“Hold on just one minute,” Josh spoke for the first time, his voice weak and forced. His eyes glowered at her father. “I don’t even know this woman.” He hadn’t so much as glanced at her.

“She certainly seems to know you,” her father snorted. Turning to Martha, who stood by the entry to the living room with a horror-filled expression on her face, he said in a harsh tone, “Go fetch me that rope from the shed, Martha. And make it quick.”

The housekeeper stood still, and shot an uncertain look at Danica. “Go get that rope, dammit,” Danica’s father boomed. With an apologetic glance, the old woman scurried from the room.

“What are you going to do?” Danica asked, her voice raised in panic. Her enraged father seemed almost capable of anything.

“That’s none of your concern, girl. Now keep your mouth shut until the preacher gets here.”

“I won’t keep my mouth shut,” she said heatedly, and took a step toward her father. Before she realized his intent, the back of his hand connected forcefully with her cheek, and she lost her balance. She stumbled backwards onto the settee. A warm hand steadied her back.

“Well there, that’s more like a happy couple about to get hitched,” the man with the gun said.

“I apologize for my father’s behavior, Josh,” Danica said quietly. She couldn’t even look at him. “He can’t make us get married. This is ridiculous.” He removed his hand from her back, leaving a cold spot in its place.

The front door opened and closed again. Seconds later, the man her father sent for the preacher strode back into the living room, followed by another man on unsteady legs. He was tall and whip thin, and he carried a black-bound book in his hand. Bringing up the rear, Martha scurried past both of them to hand a coiled rope to Danica’s father.

“About time you’re here, Preacher Halpin,” Danica’s father grumbled, and grabbed the rope from Martha’s hand. He tossed it to the man who’d gone to get the preacher. “Tie him up, Harris, and save enough for his neck.”

Danica gasped.

Preacher Halpin glanced around the room, his eyes bloodshot. His thin body swayed precariously, like a young sapling bending in the wind. He clasped his hands together and smiled, revealing a gap between his upper front teeth.  His speech was slurred when he spoke. “So, where’s the happy couple what’s asked me to marry them this fine evening?”

Chapter 6

Josh blinked and tried to focus. The pain in his shoulder was nearly unbearable. Danica had done the right thing when she cauterized it the day before. The bleeding had stopped, but the burn, and the wound from the bullet hurt like hell. The pain from the flesh wound in his side wasn’t as agonizing unless he moved too much.

He struggled to stay awake and listened to the shouting all around him. He couldn’t afford to pass out now if he wanted to get out of here. The fever that raged through his body was making him weaker than a newborn, and his head pounded fiercely. He hated the feeling, but try as he might, he couldn’t make his arms and legs cooperate. Trying to stay mentally focused proved to be a challenge.

Danica’s father was insane. Why any man would treat his own daughter with such disdain was beyond his comprehension. He couldn’t make sense of what she had done to provoke such wrath.

He did understand that the man apparently held a deep hatred for Indians. He seemed to be under the outlandish impression that Josh had fathered Danica’s child. If the situation wasn’t quite so serious, he’d get a good laugh out of it. Why she hadn’t denied the allegation didn’t sit well with him, but the man could think what he wanted. Once he got the hell out of this house, he’d never have to deal with Danica or her crazy father again.

The girl had nearly fallen on top of him when her father hit her. Steadying her fall had caused him to nearly black out from the pain in his shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to hit the man in return. No woman, no matter how annoying, deserved to be hit by a man. His own father had instilled in him a deep respect for the weaker gender. His mother had died violently when Josh was barely two years old. He had no memory of her, but his father raised him to never lay a hand on a woman, something that hadn’t always come easy when he was little. He’d grown up with four female cousins.

He mentally shook his head to stay alert. The voices around him sounded far and distant, and his vision blurred. He blinked away the distorted images. From what he understood, the preacher had arrived.

A man would have to be drunker than a skunk or sick out of his mind to be strapped to a female like Danica Jensen. Sure, she was nice to look at, for a white woman. Her pretty face and emerald green eyes would hold any man’s attention, and her silky yellow hair begged for a man to run his fingers through it. If a man was interested in such features in a woman. Which he was not. Her attitude was something quite different. She was bossy, temperamental, and opinionated. Her mouth ran faster than a river during a spring snowmelt. She would make some poor soul’s life a living hell. Her baby’s father more than likely killed himself to get the hell away from her.

The girl’s father could insist all he wanted. There was no way in hell he would get hitched to Danica Jensen. The man couldn’t force a marriage on either of them. They both had to say their vows to the preacher, and he sure wasn’t going to do it. Danica, thank heavens, seemed just as adamantly opposed as he was.

Josh sized up the man standing over him.  His gun was still pointed at his chest. If he weren’t so damn weak, this situation would have been dealt with already, and he’d be halfway back to the Madison Valley and his cabin by now. The knife on his belt rested against his thigh, but he knew it would be futile at the moment to try and fight his way out of the house. He’d never make it. He’d been in some tight spots before, usually evading warriors from various hostile Indian tribes, but he and Kyle had always managed to get their hides out of predicaments. This would be no different, he told himself firmly.

Jensen’s other thug walked up to Josh, and grabbed him roughly by the arm. Josh pulled away, biting back the pain. The man with the gun shoved the revolver under his chin. Josh raised his head up and to the side, his jaw clenched.

“I’ll put a few more bullet holes in you,” he sneered. Josh didn’t doubt for a second the man would carry out his threat. Clenching his fists, he cursed his damn injuries and weak body. He held the man’s cold stare, while the other thug bound his hands behind his back. He nearly blacked out from the pain in his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Danica’s high-pitched voice next to him compounded the throbbing in his head. “He’s in no condition to fight you. Or are you two so afraid of a feverish man that you have to tie him up? You two are nothing but rotten, low-down, mule’s asses. Neither one of you has the sense of a warthog. You’d wet your pants in fear if Josh weren’t injured.”

“Shut your filthy mouth, girl,” Danica’s father called from somewhere off to the side. For once, Josh had to agree with the man. She needed to learn to keep quiet.

“Let’s get this wedding under way, Preacher Halping,” Jensen barked. Josh was pulled roughly from the settee. He stood on unsteady legs, facing a whip-thin tall man with a toothless smile on his face. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jensen pulled his daughter none too gently to her feet. She clutched at her protruding stomach.

Josh wondered vaguely how near she was to delivering her baby. He recalled when she held his hand to her abdomen and he felt the baby’s strong kicks. He couldn’t describe what had come over him at that moment. It suddenly made her condition more real to him. There was actually another human being growing inside her body.

 Watching Kate grow large with child several years ago hadn’t seemed real, either, until Kyle presented his daughter to him for the first time mere hours after her birth. Having spent time with his mother’s people, the mystery of childbirth was something men did not participate in. It was a time for women to stay secluded, and husbands didn’t meet their child until the baby was a month old. Josh never questioned the custom. He’d quietly observed from a distance as Kyle doted on his pregnant wife. Touching Dani’s swollen belly had left him with an odd sense of wonder he couldn’t explain.

“Dearly beloved,” the thin man’s slurry voice echoed in Josh’s head, and he tried to focus on what was happening before him. “We are gathered here to join this man, ah, what’s your name, son?” He leaned forward to glare at Josh through glassy eyes.

Josh stared back. “Running Wolf,” he sneered.

The preacher’s eyes widened. His gaze darted uneasily to Danica, then to her father. “He’s an injun,” he said, as if this fact had just registered with him. Josh smirked. “I can’t marry this man to this woman under the eyes of God,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s a heathen.”

 ”He’s a Christian,” Jensen grumbled to the preacher. “Tell the preacher your Christian name, dammit,” Jensen bellowed.

“So now I’m a Christian, am I? Earlier you called me a heathen savage. Which one is it?” Josh hissed.

The man with the revolver shoved the muzzle of his gun into Josh’s ribs. He held back a groan. “Tell the preacher your name,” he commanded in a menacing tone.

Josh sneered at the men before him.  “I told you my name.”

Danica’s father suddenly pulled a pistol from his vest, and walked up to his daughter. “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll put a bullet in her gut.”

Danica gasped. “Papa!”

Josh caught the shock and hurt in her voice. Clearly she never knew how deep her father’s hatred ran if he was willing to kill an unborn child, and probably his own daughter in the process.

Danica glanced up at him. Fear filled her eyes.

“Josh Osborne,” he growled. “My name’s Josh Osborne.” He didn’t know what compelled him to cooperate at that moment. The terror in this brave girl’s eyes perhaps. He knew with certainty that the fear wasn’t for herself, but for her unborn child.

“Josh, you can’t do this,” she gasped. “I won’t let you be tied to me like this. You did nothing wrong.” Josh refused to acknowledge her.

“Hush up, girl,” her father said, still holding his weapon to her stomach. “Get on with it, preacher.”

The preacher cleared his throat. “Josh Osborne, do you take this woman to be your wife. Do you promise to set her on the path of righteousness, and beget her with children? Wait,” he rubbed his chin and glanced at Danica’s stomach. “I guess you’ve already done that.”

 Josh’s lips curled in a sneer. He remained silent, his jaws clenched. Danica’s father jabbed the revolver into her stomach, and cocked the trigger. She squirmed against the arm holding her. Tears streamed down her face. “He did not father my child,” she sobbed.

“You gotta say yes, son, or ya ain’t married,” the preacher whispered to Josh. “Do you take this woman as your wife?”

“Yes,” Josh ground out. The sensation of the earth opening and swallowing him rushed through his body.

“No, you can’t do this.” Danica struggled next to him, and pulled away from her father’s grasp. With speed that belied her heavy body, she grabbed for the knife hanging from Josh’s belt, and pulled it from its sheath.

“You will not hurt my child, and you will not force this marriage,” she shouted, pointing the knife at her father. The man with the gun held it to Josh’s temple. 

“If you want to be a widow before you’re even wed, you’ll put that knife down,” her father growled. “Get on with it, preacher.”

“Do you, Danica Jensen, take this man as your husband? Is your mind and body pure?” He rubbed at his chin again.  “Well, it’s a little late for that, I s’pose, but no matter. Do you promise to honor and obey him?”

“Josh, I’m sorry,” she wailed. “I’m so sorry.” The trigger on the gun clicked above his ear.

“All right!” Danica yelled. “I’ll . . . I’ll have him as my husband.”

“Well, that wasn’t so hard,” the preacher slurred cheerfully. “You’re now wed. The paper’s filled out. Just put your mark on it and it’s all legal. Let’s go get a drink to celebrate.”

*****

Danica threw another chemise in her carpetbag. It was already stuffed to bursting with clothes. Her wardrobe was full of fancy dresses, none of which she would be taking with her. She packed only the most essential items and simple everyday dresses. She let out a short laugh between the sniffles and tears. Nothing she had would fit her right now, but she needed clothes for later. And she needed material to sew some clothes for her unborn child.

She looked up, and her eyes surveyed her old room. Nothing had changed in the months she’s been gone. Her clean, soft bed beckoned to her. She was exhausted, and a good night’s rest in her own bed would feel like heaven. She quickly peeled her eyes away from the bed before she gave in and sank down into the covers. Her chest of drawers held clean linens and all her unmentionables. The wardrobe that contained her dresses was as full as the day she left. Her father said he buried her last summer. Apparently he hadn’t been able to let go of her things.

Danica stood, her eyes unfocused, as she let her mind wander to that day last summer. What was supposed to have been a fun-filled excursion with Maddie and her family to see the geysers and hot water features in Yellowstone had quickly turned into a living nightmare.  Several days into their trip, they had camped on the outskirts of a large geyser basin along a small tributary of the Firehole River.

The Indian war party had come out of nowhere. At first, they had simply demanded fresh horses and food. Danica remembered two of the men in her party arguing, refusing to hand over anything to the Indians. She had spoken up, saying it would be wiser to give them what they wanted and cut their losses. The Indians outnumbered them at least three to one.

After the men had relented, and agreed to trade their horses for some of the worn out Indian ponies, and handed over half of the rations they had brought, the Indians had left. Danica had wondered why some seemed to be arguing amongst themselves. Not ten minutes had passed after their departure, when several returned, and started shooting. Two of her friends fell instantly. They never had time to react. Danica pulled Maddie behind a tree to take cover, but her friend had screamed in terror, drawing the warriors’ attention. Three fierce-looking Indians, wearing nothing but loincloths, their faces painted with various colors, had descended on them. Danica, wanting to protect her terrified friend, had stepped between the warriors and Maddie, but she was no match for the men. While Maddie fought and screamed, resisting captivity, Danica had cooperated. The warriors indicated how they meant to take her and Maddie with them.