The Bartered Bride (The Brides Book 3) (31 page)

Gabe wouldn’t meet his eyes. “He did?”

“He did. And there were people who helped me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you too. You want to get away? I’ll help you. Ben and Annie too. All of us. No one wants to see you go back there.”

Gabe let out a muffled sob, then clamped his mouth shut.

“I don’t know the laws here—if you have any recourse—but I can find out. Or—well, we’ll just get you out. Law or no law. What about your mother, your brothers? Do they need help?”

“No, no, it was always me. Just me. He never hurt Mama. He’d never.”

“Why you, Gabe?”

“I don’t know.”

There seemed to be
something
. Jem’s intuition shouted at him, telling him there was something Gabe wasn’t saying.

“Gabe,” he prompted. “You can tell me. I’m not here to judge you. Is there something else, something you’re not telling me? You can tell me anything.”

“You can’t tell no one.”

“I promise.”

“It’s Mama. He adores her. No, not that. It’s unhealthy. He can’t stand to see her talking with anyone, standing near anyone.”

“Jealous, you mean?”

“More than that. Anyway, he says things to her—about me. He says I’m not f-family. Not his. He was saying things like that, right b-before it happened. He kept asking if Mama had another man—if Mama ever told me I had a different father.”

“Has she ever? Said anything like that, I mean.”

“Never! It’s all a lie, all in his head. Mama would never. She doesn’t know about all the things he’s done to me. Not everything. I couldn’t bear to tell her. It would crush her. For all his f-faults, I think she loves him. She’s always been loyal, f-faithful—”

“All right,” Jem held up his hands, stemming Gabe’s words. “I believe you. And now, you need to rest. That bitter powder I gave you mixed in the tea, that’ll dull the worst of the pain.”

“I can already feel it.”

“Good.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Gabe said earnestly, trying to prop himself up.

“Oh no you don’t. Settle down.”

“You just got to promise.”

“I already did. I won’t say anything.”

“It’s just—for all they couldn’t help me—I l-love my family. I love my mother and my brothers. I don’t want to bring shame on the family name. For their sakes. Not my father’s.”

“I understand,” Jem said, and he thought he did. Gabe was a very special young man. Too bad Creed, his own father, hadn’t recognized that and encouraged him. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. I know it doesn’t feel like it now...” The truth was Jem still felt that hot twist of shame, how a flush went over him like a thousand nettles. He was speaking as much to himself as to Gabe. “But it ain’t your fault what your pa done to you.”

The country speak came out of him at times like these when he was digging into his own past. There were things that came to him in his sleep. Memories so sharp they were real. Memoires that haunted him during the day, even. Most often, he could press them back down. Right now, it was all too strong.

“I never called him Pa,” Gabe mumbled sleepily. Hopefully, he’d pass out soon and forget the pain. “I’ll never call him that. Never.”

“I can understand that,” Jem said, “better than you know.” He thought of Mae, how he’d hated the idea of her calling him Pa or even Papa. How early on he’d encouraged her to call him Daddy instead. It wasn’t like he’d consciously done it, but now he could see it for what it was. He didn’t want to be like his pa. Didn’t want her to call him that.

Jem was about to rise and put out the lantern, but stopped when Gabe started to speak again.

“There’s more you don’t know.” Gabe opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on Jem. “My father’s killed before—he won’t hesitate to k-kill again. You shamed him. He won’t forget that. He could c-come for you. I think he might, especially if he thinks you have me. He’s k-killed lots before.”

“
What?
”

“The Indians. He k-killed them. Lots of them.”

Jem nodded, as always sickened by talk of war. But it was the way of the world. Gabe was young, but surely he knew that. “Men do things in war—”

“I’m not talking about w-war.”

“All right, what are you talking about?”

“My father—he likes to brag about the wars, like you said. But there’s more. He liked the k-killing. He tells stories to all of us, especially when he’s had too much to drink. He loves his stories. He loves telling Mama things that make her sick. She doesn’t believe most of it, I think. But I believe it. Things I can’t repeat. Things too awful to say. My father did those things. Things he wasn’t supposed to.”

“Go to sleep, Gabe,” Jem said tiredly. He believed Elias Creed was capable of any number of atrocities. He didn’t need to hear the details.

“Be careful. Please. Listen.” Gabe rested his face into the bed, an expression of nothingness coming over him, easing the lines of pain, then he was gone—asleep. Finally.

Unfortunately, Jem was left awake. He was kept awake late that night and into the early hours of morning, staring at the ceiling, knowing, eventually, Creed was going to come.

FORTY

A
little over a day after Gabe’s arrival, Creed rode up to the entrance to Castle Ranch. Jem was standing guard, alone except for his horse. He’d been expecting him. All the men had been taking turns keeping watch. And now he was here.
Creed
.

Jem’s stomach turned. A chilling wind swept over the lonely Colorado landscape. Crept into his coat. Out here there wasn’t a building in a sight. Not a man either. Just the two of them.

Creed dismounted and Jem waited for him to approach, only the gate locked between them.

“I’m looking for my son,” he said. “Is he here?”

“You’re not welcome on my property.” Jem spoke calmly, but inside a fire was raging. Outwardly, he pulled his hat low and hid behind his beard. Made himself tall. He was a wall. A wall of iron. He was a mountain. There was no way he was going to move a single inch.

“
Your
property?”

“In part,” Jem said. “Enough to kick you off it.”

“Have you seen him? He...may be hurt.”

Jem wasn’t sure what he saw in Creed’s face. A concerned father. Regret, maybe. And yet there was also something of a hunter tracking a deer. All the regret in the world wouldn’t change who this man was. There was no true repentance in his gaze.

“Oh?” Jem said blankly. “Why’s that?”

“An accident at the barn. Nothing to worry yourself about.”

“An accident?” Jem repeated.

Maybe his disbelief leaked out. He was just so angry. How dare this man call what had happened to Gabe an
accident
? As if he hadn’t branded his own son on purpose?

“Like I said, nothing to worry yourself about.” Creed’s hands closed to fists at his sides. There was a bulge on his right side under his long leather duster. A gun. Jem had one himself, but a gun strapped to Creed’s side took on a sinister meaning.

Was the man angry enough to kill?

Jem thought about Gabe. Gabe couldn’t be moved. He couldn’t get off that bed on his own. Not for another week... Maybe more.

Annie was up at the house.

Mae was napping, tucked in her bed—likely with Sugar curled around her feet.

There were the men too. Ray was getting older, but he wasn’t weak, and he was no coward. He’d pick up a rifle if he thought he needed to. Ben was young and hotheaded. Who knew what he’d do? Gabe was his friend—Jem had seen Ben trying to control his emotions. He’d been half out of his mind when he saw what Creed had done to the boy. He wanted revenge. And then there were the ranch hands—not a man among them wouldn’t call upon some hidden well of strength to defend someone injured and defenseless. They’d do as much for the horses, let alone Gabe, Annie, and Mae.

And that’s when Jem saw a vision of war: Major Creed and his entire ranch striking out against Castle Ranch. It could turn into a bloodbath quick. And young Gabe would be in the middle of it—a boy fighting death already.

There was Mae—his heart.

There was Annie...

And that’s when he knew.

He loved her. He loved Annie.

He never wanted any harm to come her way. He wanted her safe. The three of them. A family. He didn’t know when it happened. She wasn’t just a stray he’d rescued. She was a woman. A friend. A lover.
His
.

He looked through Creed—his vision filled with white rage. Like looking into a blizzard. He couldn’t let
anything
happen to any of them.

“Listen, Creed,” he said, making his face blank. “I don’t know anything about your son. He hasn’t been by here. If I see him, I’ll let you know—send one of our men over to your place.”

Creed stared at him hard. It was like he was peeling Jem’s skin back and looking right into his skull. Still, Jem kept his expression flat. It took all his concentration.

“If you’re lying to me...” Creed clenched his teeth, a muscle jumped in his jaw. “I swear—”

“Save your strength. He’s not here.” Jem tipped up the brim of his hat and stared right into Creed’s eyes. He’d once been good at lying—it had come as natural as breathing. It came back like he’d never stopped—the ability to lie better than he told the truth. It wasn’t something he was particularly proud of, but it was a skill he needed rather desperately, if only for a few more minutes.

“Why would I lie about something like that?” Jem poured every ounce of conviction into his stare. “I’m a father myself. I’d hope if I had a lost child, you’d do the same.”

His words made no sense—not if anyone took the time to pick them apart—but Creed didn’t seem capable of logic at the moment. Thank goodness.

Creed stared back unblinkingly for a bit longer, and then nodded once. “Right then. Well... If you see him, be sure to send one of the men by.”

“I’ll do that.” Another lie. So easily told. Would it be back now, the lying? Was he going to start lying to Mae, to Annie, to any and everyone?

Jem suddenly felt like he needed a bath. Clean cold water. Lots of soap. An ocean of it. A vision of Seattle arose in his mind. The waters of Puget Sound. He’d washed his sins away off that shore. And now he felt the need to dunk himself again. But looking into Creed’s cold eyes right then, Jem knew he’d go right back and do it again. He said a quick prayer for forgiveness. For strength as he watched the rancher get on his horse and turn back onto the drive.

Something told Jem the man wasn’t headed home.

He’d continue searching. He’d call his own men and his older sons into the search, eventually. They’d be crawling over every inch of Colorado Springs. And they’d come back to Castle Ranch, he knew. They’d search door to door—breaking in if they felt the need to.

That was what he’d do if Mae went missing.

They had to move Gabe.

There wasn’t a week to spare—maybe only days.

FORTY-ONE

J
em spent the next morning preparing to move Gabe off Castle Ranch as soon as possible. He’d had conversations with Ben about what needed to be done. Consulted with Ray and Annie. He’d even had to tell Mae they had to leave Sugar behind. It was a necessary part of the plan, but he’d hated telling her that. He’d promised her a hundred times over that it wasn’t forever—that they’d see Sugar again.

He just couldn’t imagine doing what they needed to do with a dog along.

Creed was searching for Gabe, and as soon as he learned Jem had left town, he’d be searching for Jem and his little family too. Creed knew Jem had a black dog. And they couldn’t afford being recognizable.

Jem had spent a good part of the morning urging all the men to keep watch for Creed. He was sure to be back.

After the men went about their chores, Jem stood in the stable saying goodbye to his horses, giving them pats on their necks. He didn’t know how long their journey would take, or when he’d be able to return with Annie and Mae. Things with Creed weren’t likely to settle quickly. Jem didn’t want Annie or Mae anywhere close to him.

As Jem fed his horses and groomed them, he couldn’t stop thinking about Gabe. He worried about the boy, if he’d be able to recover from his wound. Jem wished they’d been able to get him to a doctor in town, but moving him had been too risky. The burn was bad. Like nothing Jem had ever seen. And he’d seen a lot.

It was an evil Jem couldn’t get his mind around. His pa had been an awful father—full of violence—but he’d never burned Jem. He’d also kept his rage inside the family. As wrong as that was, it somehow seemed more wrong to attack a stranger. To prey on a helpless young woman like Annie. And
that
, Jem feared, was exactly what Creed had intended. He’d planned to use her for sport. Now that Jem had seen what the man had done to Gabe, Jem knew he would have hurt her. Maybe violated her.

The major associated with criminals. Bad deals involving who knew what. Something illegal based on the expression on Adam Booker’s face when they’d talked at the wedding.

With his own eyes, Jem had seen Creed treating the puppy harshly right out in front of everyone, with no shame. What sort of man, then, did he let himself become in private? Where no one—not even his family—could see?

Jem gripped the rough edge of the stall door as something like icy river water spilled into his veins. He was left thoroughly chilled.

Then it was like he caught fire, quick as that.

Flames licked at the edges of his vision.

A thousand voices screamed within him:
Get Creed, track him down, tear his arms off, beat him senseless...

Jem looked up at the stable rafters, filled with cobwebs and birds’ nests. Flora, Lorelei’s mare, butted her head against his shoulder, likely wondering what was wrong with him.

A war was going on inside him. That’s what was wrong. He patted the horse absently, reassuring her even as his thoughts churned.

Get Creed. Someone has to.

And then I’ll become just like him, just like everything I always feared I’d become. Just like Pa.

But Creed—

Jem swallowed thickly.

He couldn’t give in to his impulses. He knew what rage felt like, from within and without. In the wrong person, it was a truly terrible thing. In a person like himself...well, Jem wasn’t willing to think about who he might become if tested. He had his father’s blood in him. What if...? What if it came out of him and wouldn’t go back?

Would Creed have let Annie live?

The thought snuck up on Jem.

Maybe he would have. Annie couldn’t speak or write, so who would she have told? Who would’ve believed her even if she could speak? Her word against Major Elias Creed.

The thoughts just made him sicker.

What would have happened to Annie if he hadn’t been there?

There were no answers, just awful images that flew through his mind, making their home there. It was no good.

He had to stop thinking about it.

But he couldn’t let it go.

In an effort to distract himself, Jem turned his thoughts to the future. He’d felt a change in himself lately. What did he want? Looking back, he’d thought he wanted to build a new life here in Colorado. That hadn’t been all. He’d also wanted—deep down—to go back to where Lorelei was. He’d wanted that old life back. The early days of laughter and falling in love. He’d wanted to go back.

But you can’t go back. When you lose someone, it takes time. You’re numb, you can’t believe it. You miss them. One day you realize they’re just gone, and you can’t ever have them back. And it doesn’t sting so much anymore. It’s just a sadness and a whole lot of memories. The rest of life was moving forward. Loving family, making new friends. And maybe even falling in love again.

Although, with Annie it hadn’t been so much falling as a subtle slide that he hadn’t even noticed as the weeks and months went by.

Maybe that was because of who they were. Who he was. And how they met...

Would he have even looked at her if he’d never married Lorelei? Would he have loved her—Annie—if he’d known her then?

It was fruitless to suppose.

They never would’ve met, likely, if he hadn’t been on that one train, going through that one town—that nowhere town. He wouldn’t have stopped with Mae. Mae wouldn’t have slipped away from him. There would have been no puppy. No Sugar.

No Annie.

And his life would’ve been less because of it. However much he questioned why he was here in Colorado, and whether to stay or move on, he wouldn’t go back and change his decision to return.

He simply felt the need for something different now.

But what?

He stared out the barn door toward the horizon. The mountains were framed in the gap like a beautiful painting, only the view was real. “Beautiful” barely captured how amazing Colorado was. Washington was beautiful too. Seattle, Puget Sound, the Cascade Mountains, the endless soft rain... Even the bad memories of Pa couldn’t change the fact that he loved it more than any other place. It was home.

For some reason home made him think again about loving Annie. About how it had come on him when he wasn’t aware. What was “falling in love” anyway? It seemed a young thing. Intoxicating. A drive. A whole lot of heart-pounding madness. Glorious madness. The stuff of dreams.

But that wasn’t the only way to love.

Sometimes love came quietly, slipping through the cracks. Like a lamp lit in another room. When the door opened, the light came through. It just came, whether you’d asked for it or not, and as you drew closer, it grew brighter. It filled the room.

Whatever it was, however it came, it was still love.

What he’d had with Lorelei had been swift—love and laughter, lots of kissing.

What he had with Annie was a quieter love, but no less real.

The thought of anything happening to her... What had Creed been thinking? What would he have
done
? Jem clenched his hands into fists—felt the urge to strike out at the stall door. But that would frighten the horses, and he wanted them nice and quiet.
Plus, you don’t want to be that man, remember, Jem?

Waves of heat crashed over him. Fury, plain and simple. Hot rage. Like flames.

He wanted to
hurt
Creed. He wanted to hurt him bad. Destroy him.

He closed his eyes and waited. His short fingernails dug into his palms. Pain.

The heat would fade.

It’ll fade.

Wait it out.

Wait.

When it finally passed, Jem felt winded. He may as well have been racing across the paddocks like the young stallions did. His heart was pumping so fiercely. He took in multiple breaths. Breathing in and out.

He sank onto a hay bale and dropped his head into his hands, bracing his elbows on his knees.

Why was he always so close? This close to losing control and hitting something? Why? Was it in his blood? Would it ever go away?

Lord, forgive me. Make me a better man.

I need you...every day.

Don’t ever leave me. I’d be lost.

A resigned peace settled in his heart. He knew it wasn’t over. After all, God didn’t wave a magic wand and make troubles disappear. The apostle Paul prayed about a thorn in his flesh, one God wouldn’t take away. Was it like that for Jem? Maybe. But it wasn’t like he’d just give up the struggle. In all the years since Jem left his pa, he’d never struck another man. He didn’t intend to start now.

God knew that. God knew everything about him.

Jem lifted his head, and there was Annie standing in the doorway to the barn. The light was behind her, casting her in shadows, lighting up the edges of her, a golden halo. She looked so pretty. Like something in a dream. And just like that, his heart lightened. He was tired of anger. Tired of building walls. He wanted to hold her, to be held.

He stood and waited.

She entered, picking her way across the packed dirt and bits of hay, wearing the work boots he’d given her. She stopped. Too far away.

He opened his arms, and she closed the gap, resting her cheek against his chest, as if she were there to listen to his heartbeat and breathe along with him. He sniffed the pleasant scent of her hair—something flowery today.

“Come with me?” he asked. “To my room?”

She hesitated.

“Our room,” he amended.

He sensed rather than saw her smile at his words, and she nodded against his shirt front. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She lifted her face, pulling back ever so slightly, giving him room to bend down closer. He kissed her—her forehead, her cheeks, down the length of her jaw. Heard her indrawn breath. Then he was kissing her fully and completely, and everything else was lost to him: the barn, the house, the days of trial to come, everything.

There was only light and there was Annie.