Read Beyond The Horizon Online
Authors: Connie Mason
One of those who arrived early, traveling with a party of buffalo hunters who stayed a few days and moved on, was an Englishman named Nigel Bruce. Bruce had been sent abroad by his parents with a monthly remittance to sustain him during his long absence. There were many “remittance men” in America, most biding their time until they were allowed to return home. A few were guilty of grievous crimes in their homeland, while others had merely disgraced their families and were shipped abroad until the furor died down. Such was the case with Nigel Bruce.
Blond and handsome, Nigel’s fondness for gambling, women, and drink—not necessarily in that order—proved his undoing. He had seduced the daughter of a prominent family on a whim, then balked when she became pregnant and demanded marriage. Consequently she threw herself into the Thames, and in so doing lost the child but fortunately not her life. She was shipped off to a convent and Nigel Bruce was quietly sent to America until the London gossips wagged their tongues in another direction and the hapless young man learned his lesson. Making the most of his exile, Nigel vowed to see as much of America as time permitted. He arrived at Fort Laramie in late April, saw Shannon walking across the parade ground, and decided to stick around a while.
Another new arrival at Fort Laramie was Poker Alice, so named for her expertise in the game. A small brunette with huge dark eyes and voluptuous curves, Alice came up from Cheyenne with a wagon load of dance hall girls and enough money to build a saloon. She looked over Fort Laramie with a critical eye, saw Blade striding across the square and promptly proclaimed business opportunities excellent in the maledominated fort.
Shannon saw little of Blade during the following days. Much of the time he was out on patrol or occupied with duties. No further attempts were made on her life, and Major Vance assumed their man was keeping a low profile to avoid capture. Since he was needed elsewhere, Vance dismissed Sargeant O’Brien from guard duty. Vance and Blade also discontinued their surveillance of the trading post. They concluded that Bailey’s partner had somehow learned the gold was out of his reach and had given up on it.
Two weeks after their tempestuous parting, Blade appeared at Shannon’s door one night. It was all Shannon could do to keep from throwing herself into his arms. With great effort she made her voice deliberately cool and remote.
“It’s rather late, Blade. Is there something you wanted?” Damnation, didn’t he know how much this was hurting her?
Blade’s answer was to push past her and barge inside, slamming the door behind him. “We need to talk.”
“Not if you’ve come to persuade me to continue this stupid pretense. I’m not ashamed of our love, why are you?”
“Ashamed? Never!” Blade vowed. “I told you before it’s not the right time to—”
“Will there ever be a right time? You’re no closer now to learning the identity of the gun smuggler than you ever were. Please leave, Blade.”
“Dammit, Shannon, I miss you. I need you. What do I have to do to convince you?”
“Marry me, tomorrow, in the post chapel.”
“I—it’s not in your best interest right now.”
“Good-night, Blade,” Shannon said tightly. “If you’ve come merely to slake your lust, forget it. I’m not making myself available to you. I suggest you try one of those new girls who just arrived. I understand they’re entertaining in their wagon until the new saloon is built.”
“You know better than that,” Blade said with quiet insistence. “What we have is special.”
As if to prove his words he seized her waist and drew her close, lowering his mouth to hers. The fury of his kiss forced her head back, the power of it parted her lips as he staked a harsh claim to her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her, surrounding her with his scent of excited, sexual male. He stole her breath and replaced it with his own. Resisting with all of her might, Shannon decided being in love was frustrating, maddening, painful.
“I want you, Little Firebird,” Blade whispered, nibbling deliciously on her ear.
Shannon felt hot quick tears prick her eyes, and she blinked them away. If she gave in now and allowed him to make love to her, her pride would suffer serious damage. It took all the willpower she possessed to jerk herself from his arms. She had to stop him from doing what her heart pleaded for him to do.
“Please stop, Blade. You’re making this difficult for both of us.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Deliberately she turned her back on him.
“I won’t make love with you. There is nothing more to discuss.”
Flinging her around to face him, Blade’s face grew granite-hard, his eyes remote. He always meant for them to be together, but not until Shannon was damn certain she knew what she was doing by marrying a half-breed. Shannon was impulsive and too damn stubborn for her own good. Someone had to keep a level head when they were together. Her cold denial made him want to lash out at her, to hurt her as she had hurt him by rejecting their love.
“Perhaps you’re right, Shannon. Those new girls did look mighty tempting. Can’t hurt to give one or two of them a try.”
Whirling on his heel, he slammed out the door and into the night, leaving Shannon numb with disbelief.
Shannon met Nigel Bruce quite by accident, or so she thought. Actually, Nigel had been waiting for just such an opportunity for days. He bumped into her during a sudden rainstorm, introduced himself, and offered to share his umbrella, which he never was without, no matter what the weather. At first Shannon was reluctant, but the young man’s intriguing smile and open friendliness quite charmed her.
“Please allow me to see you home, Miss Branigan,” Nigel said once he learned her name. “I’d be no gentleman if I allowed you to get soaked and become ill.” He offered his arm and held the umbrella high over both their heads. Shannon saw no reason to refuse and soon they were chatting quite amicably.
Two days later she found herself seated next to Nigel at a dinner party given by Molly Greer. It was that same night, while walking home with Nigel, that she saw Blade lounging outside Poker Alice’s wagon. The diminutive brunette wore a sheer clinging gown that indecently displayed her charms as she leaned against the hard wall of Blade’s chest.
Damn him!
Shannon thought scathingly. If he was trying to make her jealous, he was succeeding. The bright moonlight provided enough light for Shannon to see Blade smiling down into Alice’s eyes. Abruptly she turned her head, too pained to watch whether or not he accompanied Alice inside the wagon.
Actually Blade had no intention of making love to Alice, though that might have been his objective originally. His heart just wasn’t in it. He wanted only one woman—a chestnut-haired vixen too stubborn to heed what her mind and body told her. Then, from the corner of his eye he saw Shannon walk past on the arm of that remittance man from England. Though Blade had nothing personally against Nigel Bruce, whom he had met a day or two earlier, it made him green with envy to see him with Shannon. If she was trying to make him jealous, she was succeeding.
“Well, Injun, are you comin’ inside with me or not?” Alice asked, wiggling against Blade provocatively. It titillated her senses to think of Blade as an Indian and she fantasized about him making love to her with savage brutality.
Gazing down into Alice’s eyes, Blade pretended great interest—until Shannon and her escort were well out of sight. “Sorry, not tonight, Alice, maybe another time.” He started to walk away.
“I’m the best,” Alice claimed saucily.
Blade turned around and winked outrageously. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? I’ll be back.”
“Soon, Injun, make it
real
soon,” Alice called after his departing back.
Other renegades had taken Mad Dog’s place harassing the army and the emigrants, notably the Sioux chief, Red Cloud, who constantly sapped the strength of Fort Phil Kearny. In late 1867 Red Cloud felt he had sufficiently weakened the garrison at Fort Kearny to attack. With more than one thousand warriors, he rode toward the fort, only to encounter Captain James Powell and a work detail on the way. The soldiers sought shelter behind an oval of wagon boxes and held off Red Cloud’s forces for four and a half hours until reinforcements arrived. Consequently Red Cloud called off his attack on the fort during the battle that was thereafter known as the Wagon Box Fight.
The following summer word was received at Fort Laramie that all the forts along the Bozeman Trail were ordered abandoned by Washington, due mostly to Red Cloud’s demand that they be closed. Red Cloud adamantly refused to talk peace unless Forts Reno, Phil Kearny and C.F. Smith, deep in Sioux hunting territory, were abandoned. There was talk of Red Cloud and his minions coming to Fort Laramie in the fall to sign a peace treaty after Washington’s unprecedented step in yielding to Indian demands. Actually it was no great loss to Washington, for the forts were soon to be made obsolete by a railroad.
Blade burned each time he saw Shannon with Nigel Bruce, which was quite often. Shannon found she enjoyed the Englishman’s company and he posed no danger to her where her heart was concerned. That part of her belonged to Blade no matter how she tried to deny it.
As the days passed Blade grew exceedingly frustrated. His investigation had stalled and he was losing Shannon because of it. Adding to his discontent was the fact that his favorite hunting knife had mysteriously disappeared. It had been a gift from his grandfather and he always carried it attached to his belt. But one day it turned up missing. He spent considerable time looking for it and decided it must have dropped from its scabbard while he was out on patrol. After a day or two he bought a new one.
Since nothing new had materialized in their investigation, Blade decided it was time to have a private conversation with Wade Vance to plan their next move. Blade crossed the parade ground to Vance’s quarters, wondering if Shannon was entertaining that damn English remittance man tonight. Just the thought of her in another man’s arms sent him into a jealous rage. If he was smart, he’d let Poker Alice soothe his terrible anguish. But he didn’t. Strangely, Blade didn’t want Alice. There was only one woman he wanted in his arms and in his bed.
Wade Vance answered Blade’s knock, ushering him into his spartan quarters and offering him a drink. Blade accepted the partially filled glass and sprawled into a chair next to an open window. A hint of summer wafted in on a gentle breeze, reminding Blade of those years he had spent on the prairie with his mother’s people. Vance poured himself a whiskey and sat opposite Blade.
“Have you learned anything new?” Vance asked hopefully.
“Nothing,” Blade said sourly. “And frankly, I’m fed up with the entire matter. I’m losing Shannon because of it and it scares the hell out of me. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find a woman like Shannon. It’s difficult to believe she could love a half-breed like me.”
“Shannon is smart,” Vance volunteered. “She knows a good man when she sees one. Don’t let this investigation come between the two of you, Blade. I’m perfectly willing to carry on alone. I was thinking that it’s time I confided in Colonel Greer. It’s possible one of his men is our culprit. Tomorrow I’ll have a talk with Greer and inform him that you’re a special agent working directly for the president.”
“Is that wise?” Blade questioned thoughtfully.
“At this point we have no alternative. This man is dangerous. He’s biding his time now, but he’s killed once and will do so again. He’s already tried to kill both you and Shannon. I think Colonel Greer deserves to know what is going on. If one of his men is involved, he might be able to provide a suspect.”
“What about the gold?” Blade wondered.
“It’s safe in my footlocker for the time being. Tomorrow I’ll put it in Colonel Greer’s hands for safekeeping. It will remain there until I take it to Washington. I wonder where Mad Wolf got all that gold?”
“Robbed a payroll wagon probably,” Blade grunted. “Thank God no one knows it’s here.”
“That’s one of the reasons I wanted to confide in Colonel Greer,” Vance said. “The gold will be much safer in his office safe. If you want out of this, Blade, there will be no recriminations. I’ll explain everything to the president when I report to him in the fall.”
“I always finish what I set out to do,” Blade said with quiet determination.
“What about Shannon?”
“I’ll make things right with her somehow,” Blade vowed. “I have to. I love her, but she stubbornly refuses to consider the consequences of marrying a half-breed.”
“Shannon doesn’t seem the type to rush recklessly into something without giving it careful thought. Go to her, Blade. Do what you must, but don’t lose her.”
In the difficult weeks ahead, Blade would have good reason to remember Wade Vance’s parting words. But now only one thought existed in his mind as he left Wade’s quarters.
Shannon.
He had to see her again, speak to her, hold her—make love to her. With grim purpose he crossed the parade ground, slipped past the sentry when his back was turned and, keeping to the shadows, approached Shannon’s house. He smiled when he noted a light shining through the window. He stepped from the concealing shadows, then hastily withdrew again when the door opened and a man stepped through the opening.
“It’s been a most pleasant evening, Shannon, thank you,” Nigel Bruce said graciously.
Jealousy jolted through Blade when he saw that the Englishman held Shannon’s hand in a most possessive manner.