Bushedwhacked Bride (32 page)
While Billy’s brothers guffawed, Jessica waved her
hands in defeat. “I give up.”
“Guess that means you’re going,” Billy declared.
“Cole, better fetch extry shootin’ irons, just in case them
Pinky boys shows their cowardly faces. Then let’s ride!”
***
Jessica couldn’t believe it. Here she was again, perched
on her knees behind a boulder, on the ridge overlooking
the mine road, waiting for the boys—who were hidden in
the trees with their mounts—to do their dirty work in the
hollow below. She was so tense she couldn’t even take notes in her journal, which she’d brought along as usual.
She caught a shaky breath, watching the heavily laden
dray move into view. Curiously, there was only a driver
and one guard—which was really odd, since Cole had
told her the guard had been increased recently. Why
would the mine owners backslide now?
Unless this was a trap. The very thought took her breath
away. She had scolded the boys about this very possibil
ity—that the Pinkertons could be lying in wait for them—
even as they’d ridden here, but the boys had only scoffed
at her concerns. Living in isolation as they did, they
seemed to have little conception of how most outlaws
ended up. As for herself, she’d seen too many reruns of
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
to expect a happy
ending. At least Cole had displayed a modicum of caution,
telling her that, if there was trouble, she should make a
dash straight to the homebound trail and not wait for them.
As the dray lumbered closer, she anxiously watched
the boys storm out from the woods, firing away and over
taking the wagon. But no sooner had they caught up with
it than four more riders burst out from the other side of
the road, firing at the Reklaws!
Jessica cried out in dismay. Oh, heavens, these must be the Pinkertons, and the Reklaws had waltzed straight into
their trap!
Jessica looked on in horror as burst after burst of gun
fire blasted out, and smoke filled the hollow. She
squealed as she observed Wesley flinch, then slump over
in his saddle. Good God, he’d been hit! What could she
do? She had a pistol in the pocket of her overalls, but it would be ineffective at this distance.
Reacting out of instinct, Jessica ran over to her horse, grabbed her rifle, then scrambled back. She flipped the
lever and took aim, just over the head of one of the
Pinkertons. Wincing, she squeezed off a round, only to gasp as she watched the man’s hat fly off. Heavens, she
hadn’t intended to get that close.
Nonetheless, she managed to stay calm and squeezed off several more rounds, distracting the Pinkertons and causing them to fire in
her
direction. She screamed as a
bullet bit into the rock just inches from her cheek.
Luckily, the boys used her brief distraction to their advantage, beating a hasty retreat. Jessica fired a few more
rounds behind the gang to discourage the Pinkertons from
following them. Then she mounted her horse and rode hard for the homeward trail.
She caught up with the men in an old river bed. The group paused together, the horses whinnying, snorting, and stamping the ground. Jessica winced as she caught
sight of Wesley—he was still in the saddle but obviously
woozy, his face white, shirt half soaked with blood.
“Damn fools—all of you!” she exclaimed furiously.
“Wesley, are you all right?”
He nodded weakly. “Flesh wound, Jessie. I’ll make it.”
She turned anxiously to Cole to see that his expression
was taut with worry. “Cole, we must stop and—”
“Not yet,” he cut in harshly. “Jessie, why in hell didn’t
you follow orders and leave when you were supposed to?”
“Well, it’s damn fortunate for all of your butts that I
stayed.”
His mouth twisted in frustration. “Let’s ride. We need to get a safe distance away from here.”
“But Wes is bleeding, he could—”
“I’m all right, Jessie,” Wesley reiterated hoarsely. “And
we’ll all die if those Pinkertons catch up with us.”
Unable to refute his argument, Jessica galloped off
with the men.
Gabe grinned at her. “Though Cole’s too proud to say
it, I’m not. Thanks for saving our bacon, Jessie.”
She harrumphed. “God, I can’t believe I did that. I shot
the hat off one of those Pinkerton agents. It could have been his head!”
“Well, you had to—they were shooting at us,” pointed out Luke.
“You were breaking the law!” Jessica sighed heavily.
“We all were.”
“Well, you needn’t worry about us getting in trouble again any time soon,” Cole told her. “We’ll have to lay
low for a spell, now that we know the Pinkertons are in
volved.”
“Now that you’ve been
forced
to lay low.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Well, I might have known it wouldn’t have been due
to some moral epiphany on your parts,” she added crossly.
“Don’t she say the most peculiar things?” Billy asked
Cole.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
They rode hard for another mile. As they rounded a
bend, Jessica saw Wes slump to one side and almost fall
off his horse. Watching Cole grab his brother and yank him upright, she mouthed a thank-you to the Almighty.
Then she turned her beseeching gaze on Cole.
“Please,
can’t we stop before Wes falls and breaks his neck—or
bleeds to death?”
He glanced behind them. “Yeah, guess it’ll be safe to stop for a spell and dress his wound. I see no signs we’re
being followed.”
As everyone pulled up next to a break of aspen, Billy added, “Yeah—as long as we ain’t late for prayer meet
ing tonight.”
***
That evening, the entire family attended prayer meeting, even Wesley, whose shoulder wound proved to be little
more than a nuisance once it was cleaned and dressed.
After several hours of rest and a bowl of Ma’s hearty
stew, he seemed almost his old self again. Jessica
nonetheless argued that he should stay home; Cole had insisted this would cause suspicion in town.
He proved to be right. At the ice cream social outside after the service, Jessica was happy to see the boys flirt
ing with their sweethearts—Billy and Dumpling in par
ticular seemed barely able to keep their hands off each
other, and she even spied them kissing in the shadows.
She enjoyed sitting at the long table with Cole and a
group of the churchfolk while all of them ate blueberry
ice cream.
Then a tense moment ensued when Joshua Hicks
asked, “Did you boys hear about the attempted robbery
on the mine road today?”
“Yeah,” put in Gideon Mayhew. “Hear tell the Pinker
tons dry-gulched the Reklaw Gang and even wounded
one of ‘em badly. But they got away.”
“More’s the pity,” put in Thaddeous Jeter. “Old Miser
and his cronies deserve much worse than they got.”
Amid chuckles, Henry Holler glanced at Cole and
grinned. “You know, there’s five of you Lively boys . . . almost makes a body wonder.”
Alarmed, Jessica glanced at Cole. Although he smiled
back at Henry, she could see the strain in his face.
“Yeah, but if they were the Reklaws,” put in Joshua
Hicks, “there would only be four of ‘em tonight.”
As everyone laughed, Thaddeous Jeter remarked, “If
they was the Reklaws, I’d shake their hands to a man.”
“Hear, hear!” agreed Mayhew, raising his punch cup.
Jessica watched Cole smile and toast with the others, but knew he was feeling as troubled as she was.
***
In the middle of the night, Jessica jerked awake to see
the dark form of a man climbing in her window! Pan
icking, she spotted her overalls folded over the foot of
the bed. She grabbed them, pulled out her pistol, and
cocked it.
“Stop right there or I’ll shoot you!”
She heard Cole’s low whistle. “Easy, honey, it’s just
me. Kinda jumpy tonight, aren’t you?”
“Cole.” Intense relief swept her.
“Don’t worry, I’m not armed.”
She set down her pistol. A moment later, he joined her
on the bed, hugging her close and kissing her. Delighted
to be in his arms again, especially after the scary episode
today, Jessica eagerly kissed him back. Then she felt
something hard probing her thigh and reached down to
touch it. She was rewarded by his grunt of pleasure.
“You’re not armed, eh?” she teased.
He chuckled and began raising her nightgown. “I real
ized I never did thank you personally for today.”
“Cole, we could have all been killed.”
Ignoring her admonition, he went on huskily, “I need to teach you to mind a sight better, too. Maybe this will
accomplish both.” He eased her gown up over her knees.
“Cole!”
He kissed her knee. “Just relax, honey.”
Her voice trembled. “I’m trying. But it still shakes me up to realize how close I came to shooting a man.”
“Today or just now?”
“Both,” she admitted. Now he was hiking her gown up
over her hips, his boldness wildly erotic. “Cole,
what
are you doing?”
“Guess.” He spread her thighs, leaned over, and buried
his lips between them.
In a mere split second, Jessica’s entire body became an
aching, writhing mass of desire. She arched wildly, but
Cole pushed her down, holding her near the source of her
torment—his hot lips and wet tongue. His tongue flicked
in exquisite little circles that left her gasping and pounding her fist. His rough hands slid up her smooth belly, hiking her gown high, his strong fingers grasping and kneading her bare breasts. Jessica panted and tossed her
head. Just when she was certain she had lost her mind, his tongue entered her, sending her spiraling into a climax so
wrenching, the aftermath left her weak. Then he surged upward to claim her lips in a voracious kiss.
‘That please you, honey?” he murmured.
“God, yes.” Still panting, she reached down to stroke him through his trousers.
He grunted. “Jessie, I think we’re living a bit too dan
gerously,”
“I know.” She began unbuttoning his fly.
He moaned, rolled her beneath him, and spread her
thighs. “I mean the people in town—I think they’re
catching on.”
She shuddered. “You could quit.”
“Never.” And he demonstrated, kissing her again even
as his manhood claimed her deeply.
“Oh, Cole, Cole, I can’t stand it.” Jessica ripped at the buttons on his shirt, wrapped her arms around him, and crushed her breasts against his naked chest.
“Ah, darling, that feels so good,” he rasped, pumping
into her. Lifting her hips, Cole eased deeper still until she
whimpered and kissed him wildly.
“Lord, I want you so much I could die of it,” she
whispered.
Abruptly Cole rolled over, bringing her on top of him.
“Then take me, love.”
Jessica did so eagerly, lowering herself onto him, gasp
ing at the heat and strength of him inside her. She tossed back her head and rode him. He smiled, thrusting high as
she pressed down. Moans shook her and she melted in
side, consumed by glorious sensations. Cole stretched up
ward, bracing himself on his forearms, licking her breasts,
gently biting the nipples, all the while pounding into her
lustily, heightening the pressure of their joining. She
sobbed and quickened her pace, pleasuring them both in
her desire to be one with him.
With a groan he sat up and brought her down on his sex, thrusting until they both cried out, clutching each
other close, exploding in bright splinters of ecstasy.
Chapter Twenty-nine
On Saturday afternoon, Jessica stood with Cole at Mari
posa’s Founders’ Day celebration, which was held in the
yard of the church. In keeping with the cool late Septem
ber day, Jessica was dressed in a green serge suit with a long, pleated skirt, and a small feathered hat, while Cole
wore a black wool jacket, gray trousers, and a black hat. Standing at the edge of the crowd, they had a good view
of all the festivities.
Around them, colorful booths had been constructed, and
humanity of all ages milled about—old gentlemen with
canes, young families with small children, widows and
couples of all ages. The sounds of laughter and gay con
versation, the scents of perfume, pomade, and any number
of succulent foods filled the air. The townsfolk happily
browsed from booth to booth, purchasing everything from
pies, pastries, and sandwiches to quilts, handmade toys,
and other craft items.
At several oilcloth-draped tables, a number of atten
dees had paused to eat and talk happily, while out in the
yard, a few couples danced to the music of two fiddlers.
Jessica was happy to see Gabe dancing with Beatrice,
and Billy with Dumpling, while Wes and Luke ate lunch
with their sweethearts.
“Don’t the boys look happy?” she asked Cole.
“Everyone does,” replied Cole. “Just look at Ma, sell
ing those quilts with the other ladies.”
Jessica smiled at the sight of Ma ensconced in black silk, standing inside the quilting booth, pointing out the attributes of a gorgeous patchwork quilt to a young matron. “Joining the church has been so good for her. She’s
mentioned wanting to invite her quilting guild out to the
farm again.”
Cole frowned.
“Something troubling you?”
He squeezed Jessica’s hand. “I guess I feel rather like
we’re living in a house of cards, waiting for it to collapse.”
“It won’t if you men stay on the straight and narrow
path.”
He eyed her askance. “Even if we do live lawfully, will
the Pinkerton boys give up on us? Will Elijah Miser be
satisfied before we’re all swinging from a hangman’s
tree?”
“Cole, what bleak thoughts!” Jessica exclaimed. “Why,
this is a day of hope, of renewal. Just think, the town of
Mariposa
has made it for five years—as you’ll be learn
ing when I read the town’s history later this afternoon.”
He nodded. “I’m really proud of you for that, sugar.”
Looking around, he sighed. “Only, I worry about whether
the town will make it another five. Mariposa exists only
because of the mine. Once it collapses, I fear the town
will, as well.”
Jessica bit her lip. “Are you sure a major cave-in is in
the offing?”
“Oh, yeah,” he replied grimly. “Like I told you after I toured the mines, Miser has riddled that mountain with
more tunnels than an anthill, and before long the whole
business will give way—and take with it the lives of
many of the men in town, I fear.”
Jessica glanced at the various families milling about
them—the Hickses, the Hollers, the Mayhews. She felt a
chill at the thought of the men of these families dying
such gruesome deaths. “Cole, we have to do something.”
“But what?” He forced a smile. “Hey, I don’t mean to
spoil the day for you, sugar. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
Though she remained troubled, Jessica bravely nod
ded. “I don’t think I can resist the smell of Wilma Hicks’s peach cobbler much longer.”
They made their rounds, purchasing food and tea
from the booths, then sat down next to the Hicks and
Holler couples.
Joshua addressed Cole first. “Hey, you folks read the
latest
Denver
Post?”
“Nope,” Cole replied. “Something in it of interest to us?”
“Yeah. Seems Elijah Miser just announced he’s running for
U.S.
senator in the next election.”
“The nerve of that man!” declared Wilma Hicks. “After
what he’s done to this town!”
“He’ll probably get elected,” complained Henry
Holler. “Hell, that man gets everything he wants.”
“Well, someone needs to play a little hardball with that
scoundrel,” put in Jessica.
“Hardball?” asked Joshua, appearing perplexed.
“I think she means someone needs to set him in his place,” suggested Millie Holler.
“Well, we all agree on that,” added her husband,
prompting everyone to laugh. “But what can we do?”
Cole pointed at his head, then rolled his eyes meaning
fully toward Jessica. “Miss Jessie here is thinking on that.”
As Jessica stuck out her tongue at Cole, the men
laughed and Henry said, “Oh, Lordy, a woman scheming.
Miser’s
really
in a pickle now.”
More mirth followed. As it died down, Joshua Hicks
jerked a thumb toward a couple walking off together.
“Hey, Clay, your baby brother sure is spending a lot of
time around my Dumpling these days. I’ve been meaning
to ask if Bobby’s intentions are honorable.”
“Certainly,” Cole replied, prompting additional
chuckles.
Joshua frowned. “You know, while Wilma and me
were at church last week, someone busted two locks out at the house and fired buckshot through the ceiling.”
“Oh, how terrible!” put in Jessica. “I hope no one was
injured.”
“Nope—Dumpling claims she was out in the hen
house when it happened,” Joshua replied dubiously.
“Was anything taken?” asked Millie.
“Not that we know of.” Joshua glanced meaningfully
at Cole. “I don’t suppose your brother knows anything
about this?”
“Oh, definitely not.”
Joshua appeared unconvinced.
“All four of your brothers seem to have found sweet
hearts in the church,” added Wilma, a mischievous twin
kle in her eyes. “I wonder who will be the first to make
an announcement.”
Glancing off at Billy and Dumpling holding hands beneath a tree, Jessica was pretty sure she knew who would
be first.
***
Billy was gazing ardently into Dumpling’s eyes. “Sugar,
you shore look purty in that new yeller calico dress,” he
crooned.
“Thanks, honey.” Dumpling stroked the sleeve of
Billy’s brown wool jacket and smiled demurely. “You
sure look fetching in that suit.”
“Thanks, sugar. Don’t you reckon it’s about time we
get hitched?”
She giggled. “Why, Billy, you wicked boy.” She
paused, feigning a wounded air. “‘Sides, I’m still not
completely recovered from seeing you with that floozy.”
“Aw, hell, honey.” Billy wickedly wiggled his eye
brows. “You mean I didn’t convince you last Sunday?”
“Well, I might could use a mite
more
convincing.”
Though he struggled against a grin, Billy shook a finger
at her. “Woman, you’re a vixen. First you resisted, then you saw how sweet it could be
. . .
now you’re greedy.”
“Yep,” Dumpling admitted unabashedly, licking her
lush lips. “I’m plenty greedy.”
He groaned. “So when do I speak with your pa?”
Dumpling appeared uncertain. “Are you really sure
about this, Billy? I mean, what about your brothers? Do
you really want me, fat and all?”
Billy squeezed Dumpling’s hand and stared at her
soulfully. “The devil with them rascals, my brothers.
What they think don’t matter. It’s just you and me from now on. You’ve made me a man, Dumpling. I love you just the way you are.”
Dumpling melted. “Oh, Bobby. I love you, too.”
“So when do I ask your pa?” he repeated impatiently.
Dumpling glanced in the direction of the tables. “Well,
I don’t rightly know. I reckon Pa’s still put out on account
of the busted doors and the buckshot in the ceiling. And
he suspects I may know more than I’m letting on. How
‘bout we wait just a few more days?”
“Now you’re talking,” he eagerly agreed. “You know, if
we was alone, I’d love to kiss you right now . . . and a lot
more.”
Dumpling squirmed in pleasure. “A
lot
more?”
He swallowed hard. “Guess we’ll have to find a way, eh, sugar?”
Dumpling snuggled closer. “Yep, we’ll find a way.”
***
The rest of Founders’ Day was a rousing success. Late
that afternoon, inside the crowded church, Jessica read a
summary of her history of the town to the enthralled
crowd; her finale was hailed with a standing ovation. She then presented the complete text to a grateful Mayor Polk
for the town’s archives; she had already made a separate
copy in her own journal. Following a prayer by Reverend
Bliss, the gathering was dismissed. Ma and the boys
talked about what a great time they’d had all the way
home.
After supper, Jessica sought Cole out on the front
porch. She found him sitting on the swing, petting
Inkspot. “Cole, I have an idea.”
He patted the empty space beside him. “Come sit
with us.”
She did so, smoothing down her skirts, reaching out to
pet the kitten, which was now even bigger than Cole’s
large hand. “I think we should make a trip to
Colorado
Springs
.”
He appeared startled. “You and me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
‘To play a little hardball. Give Elijah Miser some bad
press.”
“Bad press?”
“Aren’t we even now entering the age of yellow journalism? What if we can convince one of the local papers
to do an expose on the consortium and conditions at the Mariposa mines? What would that do to Miser’s chances
to win a senatorial seat?”
Cole whistled. “Woman, you’ve got a devious mind.”
“Wouldn’t it work?”
He frowned. “Well, it might. If we could get one of the
newspapers to take us seriously.”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Well, I’m an outlaw, and you’re just a female.”
“Oh!” Outraged, Jessica sprang to her feet. “And
you’re a typical male!”
“Now why are you riled?”
“Because, Cole, you’re selling yourself short. Selling
me
short. Everything in this world is image. Your image.
Mine. Even Elijah Miner’s.”
“I don’t follow you.”
“We’ll go to
Colorado
City
in style. That means stop
ping off to purchase elegant clothes . . . and I guess it’s best that we keep up the same ruse we have here, that
you’re a farmer named Clay Lively and I’m your cousin,
the schoolteacher from back East. We’ll have to have sep
arate hotel rooms, of course—”
“Aw, shucks.” Cole scowled. “How long do you think
that
will last?”
“Oh, hush. Anyway, we’ll go to
Colorado Springs
, reg
ister at the best hotel, and start talking to the newspapers
in town about the consortium, and conditions at the
mines. When we get the press on our side, we’ll start
playing hardball with Miser himself. With any luck, all
we’ll need to do is to stir up a bit of heat to make him
come around.”
Cole shook his head. “You and your haywire notions.
Isn’t there a good chance Miser will recognize us from
the robbery?”
“I doubt it. That’s why our disguises will be so important when we go to
Colorado Springs
. Besides, we both
wore masks during the robbery. I don’t think Miser and
his cronies even realized I was a woman—and it’s not as
if we’re taking along the entire gang this time.”