Bushedwhacked Groom (18 page)

Chapter Fifteen

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In the bunkhouse, Cory Reklaw watched his brothers
pace about like troops drilling. His siblings had been
ranting and raving for over twenty minutes about the
upcoming nuptials.

“I can’t believe the little brat up and did it,” declared
Matt, kicking an iron bootjack out of his path as he
stormed around the room. “She went and twisted
Daddy around her little finger like she always does, and she’s getting hitched to that no-account on Sunday.”

“Hell, old man Trumble forbade us to court his daughters until at least then,” cursed Zach, stomping
about and almost colliding with Vance.

“And we ain’t even got calling cards yet,” added Matt
in a voice shrill with frustration.

Vance waved a hand. “Anyhow, them women won’t
be at home receiving callers come Sunday. They’ll be at
the church with everyone else, eyeballing the sideshow.”

“Yeah, watching
us
get our noses rubbed in it,”
agreed Matt as he shouldered past Zach.

Zach paused to snap his fingers. “Not if we do some
thing about it.”

“Like what?” asked Matt.

“Well, like shoot the low-down sonofabitch she’s
marrying.”

Now Matt and Vance stopped dead in their tracks as
well. “Brother, have you lost your mind?” asked Vance.
“If we kill ‘im, Ma will flat murder us.”

“Yeah,” seconded Matt.

“Not if she don’t know,” argued Zach.

The other two fell silent, scowling.

Cory, who had been listening to this exchange in ap
palled silence, sprang up from his perch on a bunk.
“Have you three been eating loco weed? I knew you
were all wild and half-crazy, but I never dreamed I’d
hear my own brothers, my own flesh and blood, plot
ting an act of homicide.”

Zach rolled his eyes. “Oh, hush up, Cory. I swear, you
carry on worse than a woman. You sound as bad as
that traveling melodrama we saw last Christmas down at the
courthouse.”

“So do you,” retorted Cory. “And I won’t stand idly by
while you plot to kill a man.”

“Why not?” demanded Matt.

Cory was flabbergasted. “Why not? Well, it’s wrong,
for one thing. What has Lucky Lamont done to deserve
a death sentence from the three of you?”

“He’s marrying baby sister,” replied Vance.

“That’s not his fault. The man is being forced to.”

“So we’ll force him
not
to,” mocked Zach, “owing to—
er—a previous engagement with the Grim Reaper.”

As the three laughed, Cory shook a finger at them.
“Don’t you boys dare try it or I swear, there will be consequences.”

Vance surged toward him, his expression nasty.
“Consequences? You gonna tell Ma on us, you sneaky
little rodent?”

Cory was silent, glowering.

Matt loomed closer, seizing Cory by his lapels. “You
know, you are the damned runt of the litter and the rest
of us should have drowned you ages ago. Always so
different from us. Always the sissy and the tattletale.”

“Yeah,” agreed Zach.

“Now give us your word you won’t squeal to Ma—or it’s curtains for you,” Matt declared.

Cory gave a sigh. “Very well. I won’t tell her.”

***

“A wedding dress in only three days,” fretted Grandma.
“Lord have mercy on us all.”

In the kitchen, Molly stood in her lacy bloomers and camisole while Ma and Grandma both knelt at her feet with their sewing baskets, taking measurements for the
wedding gown they’d begin frantically making that
night. Grandma had hauled Molly into the house only
moments before, and she’d had scant time to com
pose herself following the wrenching scene with
Lucky. Then, too, she wasn’t particularly happy to leave
him unguarded—especially considering the state he
was in.

Today he’d told her outright that she wasn’t the kind
of woman he wanted for a wife. Tonight he’d made it clear that he felt forced and trapped. But then he had
kissed her with brash, wanton sensuality—both arous
ing and confusing her.

What was his problem? Did he at least desire her—
or did he just want to make her suffer? Considering
what that other woman had done to him, she sus
pected the latter.

But even though Lucky had insulted her horribly,
Molly couldn’t help feeling a stab of guilt in that she’d
only made things worse—again. He did not want this marriage, at all—and all her efforts had only further antagonized him. It would be so much easier if he’d just cooperate—after all, what she and her family offered him was hardly without merit. But he seemed determined to hold out.

It also unsettled her that
Lucky’s opinion had come to mean so much to her—and
especially that he could make her
feel
this way, stirring up so many turbulent, conflicting emotions. It gave
him too much power over her. She’d best buck up her
courage, or he would defeat her
in short order . . .

Her mother’s voice cut into her musings. “Now,
Ma,” Jessica soothed, “we’ve had that beautiful piece of
white eyelet in Molly’s hope chest for ages, along with
blue satin slippers and that lovely length of Barcelona
lace for her veil. Besides, we have the new Singer tres
tle sewing machine to do all the seams on the dress
and lining.”

Grandma harrumphed as she looped the measuring
tape around Molly’s slender waist. “Well, it don’t seem
fitting. A wedding gown should be sewn by hand. To
use some newfangled machine will be bad luck, I’m
telling you.”

“You can do all the lace trim by hand, and I know it
will look just divine.”

“Will you two kindly stop your bickering?” Molly cut
in irritably.
“
I don’t care if I get married in a flour sack,
so long as it’s white.”

“Why, Molly Reklaw, that’s blasphemy,” scolded
Grandma.

“No, it’s practicality,” Molly shot back. “Now will you
two finish up so’s I can resume guarding Handsome be
fore he hightails it to the hill
s
—and there ain’t no nup
tials to fret over?”

Grandma was about to reply when the back door
swung open and Lucky strode in, only to stop in his
tracks at the sight of Molly. His expression was tight,
and a muscle worked in his jaw. Though her ma and
grandma gasped, the bride-to-be was not about to
cower before him—especially not after the way he’d
treated her outside. He would not make her give up her dream—he just would not.

So she proudly stepped forward to give him a
better view of her lush curves, enticingly revealed
by linen and lace. “Well, hey, Handsome,” she crooned.
“Want to come help Ma and Grandma measure me for
my wedding gown?”

Lucky gulped and stared at her speechlessly, heat smoldering in his blue eyes—just the reaction Molly
had wanted!

Then she heard a cry of outrage as Grandma heaved
herself to her feet. “Granddaughter, remember your
self. You’re behaving like a trollop.” In short order she
seized the gingham cloth off the table and draped
it about Molly’s shoulders, then soundly popped her
granddaughter on the behind.

“Ouch!” Molly cried, grimacing and rubbing her
smarting rear end.

Simultaneously, Lucky began to speak in strangled
tones. “Ladies, I’m sorry
. . .
I mean, I didn’t realize—”

Face red as an apple, he turned and fled the room.

Molly smiled victoriously, then turned to catch her
ma’s sternly disapproving frown.

Grandma sucked in an indignant breath. “See what I told you, Jessica? This girl is shameless.”

Molly wondered if she should tell them about
Lucky’s insulting kiss, then thought better of it.
“Grandma, I was just giving old Handsome his due. He’s done nothing but bellyache ever since he ar
rived here, just because I’m forcing him to wed me. You don’t have to have apoplexy over it.”

“0h, no? I’ll give you your due, you little Jezebel,”
Grandma shot back. “Jessica, where’s my broom?”

“Grandma, please—not again!” Molly wailed.

That was when Molly decided that retreat was the
better part of valor—even though Grandma caught
her with one stinging wallop on the derriere as she vaulted out the door.

***

In his room, Lucky stood pressed against the wall,
breathing harshly. First Molly had goaded him into
kissing her again—a kiss that left him still ravenous for
more. Then he’d seen her half-clothed in the kitchen.
Now he couldn’t get the vision of her in her camisole
and bloomers out of his mind. What a dazzling
temptress she was, her curves so flawless, her skin so
creamy and luminous, her eyes so large and seductive,
her lips so sweet and red. She’d looked him over in a brazen way that had left no doubt as to what she was
offering.
Shamelessly she’d enticed him, parading her wares
and teasing him, even as he stood there with her
essence still on his lips, trembling with frustrated desire. Damn her hide, she’d done nothing but taunt and torment him ever since he’d arrived here. And it was
working—he had a hard-on more rigid than a
Rocky
Mountain
peak, a fire in his loins that felt as if it would
never stop burning. And through it all, there was just something about her—her very audacity, her indomitable spirit—that made him want more than just the tantalizing womanflesh she offered.

So far Lucky had managed to be comforted by the
thought that even though Molly was forcing him into
marriage, she couldn’t force him into her bed. At least
on that one critical level, he’d win.

Now he had his doubts. She was leading him to the
altar by his nose. Would she ultimately lead him to her
bed by his cock?

Chapter Sixteen

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Before dawn on Sunday morning, Lucky felt himself
being seized from bed by several sets of rough hands.
He caught a glimpse of three shadowy male figures
surrounding him in the darkness; then a gag was
stuffed in his mouth, a blindfold yanked about his
head. Even as he struggled and uttered muffled
protests, his hands and ankles were bound with stout
twine and he felt himself being carried from the room,
down the creaky central hallway and out the front
door.

A blast of cold wind hit him as he was borne down
the front steps and thrown facedown across a horse.
Lord have mercy, this was a repeat performance of the
nightmare scenario that had brought him to live
among these wackos in the first place. What now?

Within seconds the group of four was riding off.
Lucky spent a hellish half hour slipping and sliding on his horse, several times almost crashing to the ground. Fortunately his bound hands were in front of him, and
he managed somehow to steady himself with a hand on one stirrup and a foot on the other.

But riding so long in that unnatural position was
pure torture. He wore nothing but a set of long Johns,
and the wind sliced through the knit cloth like splinters of ice. His belly took an incredible pounding and
all the blood in his body felt as if it had been forced to
his head. Several times he feared he would start vomit
ing and choke on his gag.

Then, following a dizzying uphill climb, the small group came to a halt. Amid the snorting and stamping
of the horses, Lucky felt himself being hauled roughly to the ground. He was surprised his feet still supported
him. He felt the cold steel of a knife blade cutting free
his feet and then his hands. His gag and blindfold were
yanked off.

Lucky coughed, then blinked in the bright light of dawn. He shuddered at the sight of Molly’s three older
brothers standing across from him: Matt wearing a
snarl and holding a Colt pistol; Zach sneering and
sporting a rifle; Vance glaring and pointing a shotgun
at Lucky’s middle.

“My God, have all of you gone loco?” he cried.

In reply, Vance tapped Lucky’s belly with his shotgun. “Take a hike, stranger. Go back where you came
from.”

“My pleasure.” Lucky turned, only to reel and stare
wide-eyed at the steep, dizzying plunge of Reklaw
Gorge, the canyon floor yawning at least a hundred
and fifty feet below him. “Shit! There’s nowhere to
hike!”

“Now ain’t that a shame?” mocked Matt.

Lucky whirled on the three men who had him cornered. “Look, guys, I enjoy a practical joke just as
much as the next fellow. But this is serious. You need to
knock it off or I could fall into this gorge.”

“That’s just what we have in mind,” said Vance with a
grin.

“What?” Lucky cried. “You three brought me out here to kill me?”

“Let’s say, for you to have a little accident,” drawled
Zach. “Now take off.”

“You actually think I’m gonna jump off a damn cliff
just because you’re asking me to?” Lucky demanded.

Matt cocked his Colt. “Would a bullet or two help
convince you?”

Lucky could not believe these three maniacs actually
expected him to leap to his death. He knew they were
all rowdy and half haywire, but this was preposterous.

Furthermore, he was not about to give up without a
fight. He faced down Matt with all the courage he
could muster. “Then you’re gonna have to fire that pis
tol to make me jump, junior. Should I turn around so
you can shoot me in the back like the no-account cow
ard you are? Or will you pitch that shooting iron into
the gorge and fight me man-to-man?”

Matt blinked rapidly, obviously quite taken aback by Lucky’s show of courage.

“Or you could always give me your pistol and I’ll
blow my brains out for you,” Lucky added nastily, hop
ing these morons would go for his bait.

Matt was actually starting to hand Lucky his gun
when Zach slapped him across the wrist. “Idjut! He’s
trying to hoodwink you.”

“
A toddler could con you three fools,” Lucky scoffed.

“0h, yeah?” Zach loomed closer, his expression
nasty. “How ‘bout a little shove, then?”

“How about it?”

After several more seconds of blustering, Zach
backed away, cursing under his breath. “We told you to
jump, stranger. Now jump.”

“And I told you, you’re gonna have to make me.”

As Lucky continued to stand his ground, the three be
gan muttering to one another. “This ain’t so easy as we
figured,” Matt fretted to his brothers. “He ain’t obliging.”

“Well, we did ask him to jump off a cliff,” remarked
Vance.

“Guess the three of us will have to gang up on him,
then push him over,” mumbled Zach.

“But that would be murder,” stewed Vance. “I mean, I
don’t mind bullying him a little, but shoving him, or
out-and-out shooting him . . .”

“Pa surely murdered folks when he was an outlaw,”
argued Zach.

“Hell, we don’t know that,” countered Vance. “‘Sides,
if he killed anyone, I’m sure it was well deserved. Like
Cory said, this fellow only got hog-tied and shanghaied
by Molly.”

“Yeah, why aren’t you murdering
her?”
Lucky de
manded.

The three pivoted to glare at him.

“‘Cause she’s family,” Vance snapped back. “Much as
we hate to admit it.”

By now Lucky was exasperated. “Look, you fools, have you ever thought about just
asking
me to leave?”

All three stared at him blankly. “Huh?” asked Matt.

“You don’t have to kill me, just give me a horse and
some clothing and I swear you’ll never see me again.”

“For sure?” asked Zach with a skeptical frown.

Lucky nodded vehemently. “I promised your pa I’d
marry Molly, but I don’t think even he would hold me
to my word under these circumstances.”

The three consulted among themselves for a few moments, then Matt flashed his brothers a relieved
smile. “You know, the man is right. He don’t want to
marry her any more than we want him to.” He fixed
Lucky with a fierce look. “All right, then, mister, maybe
we’ll agree to your terms. But if we ever again spot you
in these parts, it’s the bone orchard for you.”

“If you ever again spot me in these parts,” Lucky in
toned vehemently, “you can send me there with my
blessings.”

After a bit more consulting among themselves,
Lucky’s three captors agreed to cooperate. Vance gave
him his shirt, jeans and boots; Zach gave him a hat and
Matt handed him a canteen. Within minutes he was settled on his horse.

“Make tracks, stranger!” Zach yelled.

“With pleasure.”

Lucky was galloping back down the path, the broth
ers following behind him, when he rounded a curve
and practically collided with two more riders—Cole and Cory Reklaw, both of whom appeared sober as
judges. The three men pulled up, their horses whinnying and stamping.

“Where do you think you’re going this morning,
son?” Cole asked meaningfully.

Snorting a laugh, Lucky jerked a thumb back toward
Cole’s older sons, who had also spotted the riders and were approaching with abashed expressions. “To
perdition, if your three eldest sons had had their way.
They snatched me out of bed and tried to murder me.”

Cole frowned at the other three as they neared, rais
ing an eyebrow at the sight of Vance in his long Johns.
“Is that true, boys?”

Miserably, Matt confessed, “Pa, we just tried to per
suade him to take a little hike—”

“Yeah, off a cliff,” Lucky finished.

Cole fought to maintain a stern expression. “I find
your behavior contemptible. Your ma and I raised you
much better than this. In fact, I can’t even imagine
what your ma and grandma will do when they hear
what you tried to do.”

All three men went ashen-faced. “Pa, do you have to
tell ‘em?” Matt pleaded.

“Especially Grandma!” added Vance. “She’ll broom us half to death.”

“No promises,” Cole replied. “Anyway, I’ll have to deal
with you rascals later on. Go on home now with Cory.
I’m going to have a chat with Lucky here.”

After some more grumbling, the three galloped over
to join Cory. All cast him resentful glances. “You broke your word,” Vance accused.

“No, I didn’t. You asked me not to tell Ma, so I didn’t.
I told
Pa.
”

“Same difference,” snapped Matt.

“Yeah,” added Zach.

Observing the four riding off, still bickering, Cole ruefully shook his head. “Lucky, I must apologize for
my sons’ behavior.”

“Behavior? Try attempted murder.”

“Let’s not exaggerate, now.”

Lucky shouted a disbelieving laugh. “Sir, I almost got
tossed in a ravine, before breakfast even, and that ain’t
no exaggeration.”

“But you’re all right now, so no harm done.”

“Right. I’m still in the clutches of the same gang of
psychopaths, so I’m doing just swell.”

Cole’s jaw tightened. “Look, son, I’m going to wear
out all three of those scoundrels once we get home.
You have my word this will never happen again. What
else can I do to make this right?”

“Let me go!”

Cole scowled.

Lucky gestured at his mount. “I’ve got a horse, I’ve
got clothes, just let me go. You folks have all but killed
me, but no hard feelings, okay? Just release me from
my promise to marry your crazy daughter and we’ll
shake on it and I’m outta here.”

Cole was slowly shaking his head. “But where will
you go, Lucky? You have no idea how to function here.”

“No? Watch me!” Lucky scoffed. “Besides,
this
is
functioning?”

“It’s a life, a new beginning for you, a way you can succeed.”

“
Puh-leeeze
,” Lucky implored, “spare me the look-for-
the-silver-lining lecture. Your wife and daughter have
already delivered it several times.”

“Obviously, then, you haven’t listened. So, my ques
tion is, are you going to run like a sissy—or stay with folks who understand you?”

“Understand me?” Lucky repeated in disbelief. “You
folks are understanding me straight into my grave. Be
sides, I’m no sissy.”

“No?” Cole’s dark eyes gleamed with sly wisdom.
“Well, maybe I disagree. Maybe you’re just not man
enough to admit you can’t handle my Molly.”

“
What
? Can’t handle her? Your daughter—”

“Is the real reason you want to run, isn’t she?” Cole
cut in. “You can’t admit you have feelings for her.”

“Feelings for her? 0h, yeah, I have feel
ings for her, all right. I’d love to wring her little neck.”

Cole shook a finger at Lucky. “You’ll treat her right, or
you’ll have me to reckon with.”

Lucky was exasperated. “Sir, why are you pushing this so? Can’t you find someone else more suitable for
that wildcat daughter of yours?”

“Possibly so. But Molly wants you, so that’s that.”

Lucky fixed his future father-in-law with a steely
glare. “For the last time, are you going to let me out of
my promise?”

“No.”

“Then plow me under now.”

Lucky spurred his horse, and Cole laughed as he followed suit.