Wild Roses (4 page)

“The fool is damned lucky Joshua could get the train to stop.” Harrigan shook his head as he stuffed the now useless shackles into his carpetbag. “Joshua speaks plain to her, but he clearly has no power over her. I am sure that he did not like this plan at all. He certainly didn't sound as if he did.”

“What do you think Joshua is to her?”

“Like a nephew or a son if I judge it right.” Harrigan met George's look squarely. “I am not sure it's a good idea to cast your eye that way, old friend.”

“You mean to go after the girl.”

“I do. We were hired to bring her back to Philadelphia. The right or wrong of it is not our concern. And I don't intend to be beaten by two tiny ladies and a ragtag group of boys.”

 

 

Ella gratefully accepted the canteen Joshua held out to her. She rinsed her mouth out, took a small drink, and then dampened her handkerchief so that she could wipe off her face and neck. They had ridden hard for about an hour and her body was reminding her that it had been a long time since she had indulged in such strenuous activity. Cooking, cleaning, and tending gardens could be hard work but it did not prepare one well for a long, hard gallop. Once they were back at Louise's ranch, Ella promised herself, she would make the time to do some riding and, perhaps, toughen up some of the tender parts that were already complaining. She did not even want to think about how much further they had to ride.

What troubled her more than her own discomfort and the promise of more to come was her own confused feelings. She knew she ought to be elated. She had escaped. Yet again she had eluded Harold's deadly grasp. Everyone had survived the rescue. There was more than enough reason for her to celebrate, yet she felt no joy at all.

The longer she considered the matter, the more certain she was that Harrigan Mahoney was the reason she did not feel joyous about her freedom. Ella was slightly horrified when she realized that she regretted leaving him. The man had snatched her from her home, shackled her, and was determined to take her to Harold. He was in the pay of her enemies. She should be delighted to see the back of him, but she was not. Ella decided that her poor confused mind wanted it all—freedom and Harrigan Mahoney. She was going to have to push such mad thoughts aside. Harrigan Mahoney wanted to take her back to Philadelphia and Harold. Reluctantly, she admitted that she was intrigued by the man and strongly attracted to him, but he was a real threat to her. Her interest in him only added to that danger. She was determined to kill that reckless attraction.

“I would have thought you'd look a bit happier,” murmured Louise as she rode up next to Ella.

“I am happy, and deeply grateful to all of you.” She included Joshua and the others in her glance. “I cannot believe you put yourself in front of a train.” Ella shook her head, glanced down at her aunt's foot, and gasped when she saw how swollen Louise's bootless foot was. “My God, you were really trapped on those rails!”

Louise looked at her foot, tried to wriggle her swollen toes, and winced. “That was not part of my plan. I was standing there thinking that my foot didn't look trapped enough, wriggled it about and, lo and behold, got myself well and truly stuck. Never mind that. It will heal. Now, I know you're glad to be free, but you didn't look too happy. I want to know why. Did that bastard hurt you? Besides shackling you in that barbaric way, I mean.”

“Ah, so you were told about the shackles. It was just a small manacle around my wrist. You can't really blame the man for fearing that I would run away. We all made it abundantly clear that the last place I wanted to go was Philadelphia.”

“Alright, I will grant him that. He's no better than some bounty hunter, however, so that is all I will grant him.” Louise studied Ella closely for a moment. “I know you, girl, better than you might like. That is because we are so much alike. Something is gnawing at you. If you would just spit it out, we could chew it over together, and then the problem might not seem so big.”

Ella smiled faintly, saw that the men were too far ahead to overhear them, and said, “I'm not sure it's a problem. More of a puzzle, really. I am delighted to be free yet I find that I regret seeing the last of Harrigan Mahoney.” She gaped slightly when her aunt began to laugh. “I don't see the humor in this conundrum.”

“You will some day.” Louise struggled to subdue her amusement. “Child, even as I was aiming my Henry at that tall fool, I could see that he was a fine figure of a man. A woman doesn't see many like that in her lifetime. You wouldn't be a woman if you didn't appreciate a man as beautiful as that.”

“Auntie, he was taking me to Harold, to my death. He thinks I am a spoiled, rich child given to lies and fancies. He shackled me to my seat. He carried me to the train like a sack of meal.”

“And I bet that, for one brief moment, you thought it was a fine broad shoulder.” She laughed again when Ella blushed faintly. “It might seem mad to give him any thought at all, but, I swear to you, any other woman with eyes in her head would find herself in the same quandary. You're still running away from him, aren't you?”

“Of course I am. He was taking me to that pig, Harold, who desperately wants me dead before his guardianship of me ends.”

“Exactly. True madness would be if you walked back to him. Thinking about a handsome man yet still protecting yourself and your heart is just natural. What you're regretting right now is that you didn't meet him under different circumstances. Don't worry, Ella, there will be another one.”

A voice in Ella's head adamantly declared that she did not want another one, she wanted Harrigan, but she fought hard to silence it. She would put that man right out of her mind. She was not one to bemoan what she could not have and Harrigan Mahoney would not be allowed to change that. He was out of her life now and would not return. A chill ran down her spine and she decided that was a statement she would need to repeat a few times. Ella fixed her gaze upon the land stretching out ahead of them and sternly resisted the urge to look behind her.

Harrigan sighed, tipped his hat back, and wiped the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief. Luck had been with them so far. The train had reached the next stop in under an hour, he had gotten some of his ticket money back, the horses and supplies had been easy to acquire, and Ella's trail was clear to follow. He prayed that good luck would continue. A quick look at George told him that his partner was not as pleased with their good fortune as he was and Harrigan sighed again.

“George, I wish you would shake free of that gloom that's settled over you,“ Harrigan said. ”We
both
agreed to do this job for Harold Carson. We
both
need the money.”

“I know,” George replied, then shook his head. “I know I reveal no secrets when I confess that I have grown to like this job less and less. And, now that I have seen Miss Louise, I begin to feel like the basest of traitors.”

“You only saw the woman once, when she stupidly got her foot stuck on the railroad tracks.”

“One look is all it takes sometimes.”

A part of Harrigan agreed and he brutally silenced it. “George, Louise Carson is unquestionably a lovely woman. She is also the woman who tried to shoot a hole in my leg, who has been galloping over the countryside with four young men of dubious background, and who stuck herself in front of a moving train.”

“All of which reveals spirit and a deep sense of responsibility for her niece's safety.”

Harrigan briefly lifted his hat and dragged his fingers through his hair. “You have picked a damned poor time to suffer a first love.”

“And what makes you think it is my first?”

The bite in George's soft, melodious voice caused Harrigan to stare at his friend in surprise. “I meant no insult. Hell, George, I've known you for what, seven years or more, and you've never had much to do with the ladies. I just assumed you were, well, too quiet or shy. Considering you're only two and thirty, I just figured the way you've behaved for the last seven years is the way you've always acted.”

Harrigan watched the tight anger slowly leave George's face and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He had never considered the possibility that George would have a sore spot somewhere, and he was not really pleased to have found it. At the moment, it seemed like George was the only one who was not angry with him, and he did not want to lose his only ally.

“Sorry,” George murmured. “I was married once, you know.”

“Married?” Harrigan was so shocked he nearly choked on the water he was drinking. “You're a widower?”

“No, I got divorced.” George smiled faintly at Harrigan's open-mouthed astonishment. “I shocked myself nearly as much at the time, but it did not stop me. That is, however, why I moved from Boston to Philadelphia. No one blamed me for divorcing the woman. In truth, they all sympathized. That might be one reason that I could no longer abide living there.”

“What happened?”

“I just grew weary of finding my side of the bed occupied with another man. I think I might have been inclined to stay, to try and win her back, if it had been the same man. It was not. This was not a matter of her loving another. I began to wonder if she was just pulling them in off the street as they walked by the house.”

“Hell, George, I'm surprised you didn't just shoot her.” Harrigan briefly thought of how it would feel to see Ella in bed with a man and was surprised at how angry the image made him. “I don't think I would've paused to wonder if she loved the man. I would've just reached for my rifle and wondered which one of them to shoot first.”

“There was one time when I came very close to doing just that. That was when I decided the scandal of divorce would be acceptible. A scandal is a lot easier to bear than a noose around one's neck.”

Harrigan decided that George's painful tale made his own problems with women look a bit small and insignificant. “I would think that, after that bitter experience, you'd have the sense not to decide on a woman with just one look.”

George shrugged. “Louise is not like my wife, nor would she ever be like that.”

“Damn it, how can you be so sure of that?”

“For one thing, my wife Ellen would never lift a finger to save or help anyone. I cannot explain why I think Miss Louise is completely different from Ellen. I just know it.”

“Didn't you just
know
it about Ellen?”

“No.” A short, faintly bitter laugh escaped George. “All I saw was Ellen's beauty. All I knew was that I ached for her. She could clear my mind of all questions, all thought, with one inviting smile. There were rumors, whispers of scandals, but my lust for the woman made me deaf to them. That and the arrogance of youth. I was sure that, if what people said about her was even partly true, I would be the one who would make her change her ways.”

Harrigan echoed George's bitter laugh and shook his head. “I had some of the same stupid ideas about Eleanor.”

As George began to speak, Harrigan tensed, and held up his hand to silence his friend. He lifted himself up a little in the saddle and listened intently, then slowly smiled. The soft spring breezes were carrying more than a refreshing coolness. They also held the faint sound of voices. Harrigan could see nothing amongst the scattered trees and tall grasses they rode through, but he was certain that they had finally located their quarry.

“Gird your loins, old friend,” he said to George even as he nudged his horse in the direction of the voices. “You are about to get another look at your cantankerous, gun-toting lady love.”

“You intend to taunt me with that for a while, don't you,” George murmured as he followed Harrigan.

“Quite probably. Now, let's go get little Miss Ella.”

 

 

“We have to get back on our horses,” Louise said, her voice weak and unsteady as she tried to stand up.

Ella gently but firmly pushed her aunt back down onto the blanket spread beneath a gnarled tree. “You are staying right there until we can get the swelling in your foot to go down.”

“I can ride.”

“Of course you can. That's why you fell out of your saddle. You're lucky you didn't break your damned neck. Do you think all of us are squatting here staring at you out of pure admiration?” Ella briefly exchanged a grin with a chuckling Joshua.

When Ella had watched her aunt turn white and tumble out of her saddle, she had felt choked with panic. Louise was the last of her family, certainly the last one who cared anything about her. The moment Louise's body had hit the ground, Ella had felt the impact deep in the pit of her stomach. As she had rapidly dismounted, Joshua and the others swiftly joining her as she knelt by Louise, the fear that she was now completely alone had almost overwhelmed her. She had nearly wept when she saw Louise breathe and realized that the woman had only fainted.

As the four young men had helped her settle Louise on a blanket in the shade of a tree, Ella had seen clearly how much Louise meant to her
boys
. Even Joshua had paled when she had tumbled to the ground. Louise was their family. For most of them she was probably the only one who had ever given a damn about them and they adored her for it. Although Louise was only seven and twenty, not much older than many of her boys, it was not a romantic love Ella had glimpsed in the four hard faces. Theirs was a love born of Louise's freely given friendship, trust, and respect.

“Your bedside manner could use some softening, Doctor Carson,” Louise muttered as she raised herself up enough to take a good look at her injured foot. “What is that rag draped over my foot? And why is it set on top of Joshua's saddlebags?”

“The cloth is wet with cold water from the creek to bring down the swelling and your foot is set up on the saddlebags so that it is raised, which will also help. Margaret turned her well-bred little ankle once and this is what the doctor told her to do to reduce the swelling. It seemed to work.”

“We can do this back at the ranch.”

“We will do it here and now.” Ella handed Manuel the rag. “Could you please go to the creek and soak this in the cold water again?” As soon as Manuel left, Ella sat back on her heels and gave her aunt a stern look. “You will rest here until the swelling eases and I can think of a way to let you ride while still pampering that foot.”

“When did you become so autocratic?”

“When you fell off your horse in a swoon because you stuck your foot in front of a train. You scared us all to death, Auntie, and now you will placate us by trying to take care of yourself. At least for a little while.”

Louise stared at Ella, Joshua, Edward, and Thomas, sighed, and laid back down. “Oh, as you wish. I suppose the horses could do with a little rest.”

“Such a gracious concession. I wonder what happened to Manuel? It shouldn't be taking him this long,“ Ella mused aloud as she gently settled her aunt's swollen foot more comfortably on the saddlebags. “It already looks better.”

“I'm glad of that,” Joshua said in a tight voice as he, Thomas, and Edward slowly rose to their feet, “because everything else is looking pretty damned bad right about now.”

Ella looked in the direction the men were staring in and echoed her aunt's curse. Manuel was returning from the creek, the wet rag held tightly in one of his raised hands. Close behind him was Harrigan Mahoney, holding a rifle on the youth. George trailed behind the pair, leading the two horses. Ella decided that Harrigan looked far too pleased with himself. She briefly wondered why George looked so downcast as she carefully stood up.

“I see that you decided not to ride the train back to Philadelphia and concede that this battle is lost,” Ella said, ruthlessly silencing that reckless part of her that was dangerously pleased to see him.

“You've lost this battle, not me,” Harrigan said, stopping just out of their reach. “Now, everyone toss their weapons over to George—very carefully.”

“Better do it, boys,” Louise said when Joshua hesitated. “We can't be sure how desperate this rogue is to collect his blood money.”

“Taking a fee for returning a runaway child to her family is not taking blood money,” Harrigan responded in a tone that revealed his sense of insult. “Tie them up, George.”

“Louise is injured,” protested Ella. ”You can't tie an injured woman up and leave her out in the middle of nowhere. Even you can't be that callous, that brutal.”

“I can, and she wouldn't be hurt if she hadn't stuck her little foot in front of a train.” Harrigan nudged Manuel toward the others. “Now, arrange yourselves prettily around that tree. All except you, Ella.” He grabbed Ella by the wrist and tugged her close to his side. “Don't worry. George is a gentleman. He will tie them up in a way that will allow them to squirm free in a little while, but not soon enough to catch up with us.” He caught Ella eyeing his rifle speculatively and smiled. “If you try to grab this gun, darlin', it could easily go off. You might want to take a minute to recall who it is aimed at.”

Ella paled slightly and stood very still. She ached to put up a fight, but knew Harrigan was correct. That would not be the safest thing to do when there was a cocked rifle aimed at her family and friends. She did not really believe that Harrigan wanted to shoot anyone, but his gun was loaded and ready, and that made him dangerous. It pleased her to see that George allowed Manuel to cover Louise's swollen foot with the cold cloth before he tied them all to the tree, but that was the only thing she could find to be pleased about.

“When I get free of this, I'm going to hunt you two bastards down and gut you,” snapped Louise as George finished tightening the last knot and stepped back.

“Now, I am sure you don't really mean that, Miss Louise,” George said.

“You'll think differently, little man, when you're staring at your own innards.”

“Oh, I like that one, Auntie,” Ella said. “That has to be the best of all your threats.”

“Thank you,“ Louise said. ”The heartfelt ones are always the best,“ she added, meeting George's nervous glance with a too sweet smile.

“You are both quite mad,” Harrigan said as he shook his head. “George, get one of their horses for Ella.” He looked down at Ella, who was not able to hide the hope glinting in her eyes fast enough. “And you can stop plotting. You will have your own horse, but not the reins.”

“Mine is the brown mare,” she called to George, inwardly cursing over Harrigan's uncanny ability to read her thoughts. “At least this time I will have a change of clothes when I am kidnapped.”

“You are not being kidnapped,” Harrigan snapped as he tossed her up onto the saddle of the little mare George led over.

“If you don't like the name, quit the job” she said. “You are taking someone where she does not want to go. Sounds like kidnapping to me.”

“I have already discovered that you have your own unique way of seeing things.”

“Yes, I suppose someone as pigheaded and ignorant as you would see the truth as unique. Or is it because I am a mere woman that you refuse to listen to a word I say? If I was a man you would listen, would you?” When Harrigan said nothing, just stared at her while George mounted his horse, she finally demanded, “What are you gawking at?”

“I was just wondering how you could make the word
man
sound like the vilest curse.”

“Sometimes that's just what it is.”

“Now, look here.”

George moved his horse close enough to Harrigan's to bump it and draw Harrigan's attention. “If your plan is to get so far ahead of these people before they free themselves that they can never catch up, I suggest you have this argument later,” George said, casting one last, sad look toward a glaring Louise before he spurred his horse to a trot and rode away.