Texas Mail Order Bride (8 page)

In a daze, Delta turned to escape outdoors. She noticed Rand standing in the doorway and her face flamed even more. Fury hardened his blue gaze and she knew he took offense to Cooper kissing her. At the moment, she wanted nothing to do with either brother. She pushed past Rand and raced into the fresh spring air.

She was mortified. What had she done that made either of them think that she welcomed their attention? Or vied for any man's affection, for that matter? She'd done nothing except tend to her own affairs.

Burying her face in her hands, she wondered how she could ever look either of them in the eye again. Gathering her skirts, she climbed into the buggy and fumbled with the reins. All she could think to do was get back to the boardinghouse.

And yet, the lingering taste of Cooper on her tongue, the memory of his firm mouth on hers, sent waves of pleasure washing over her.

Maybe this was just another kind of torture for someone like her.

Maybe Cooper hadn't meant to kiss her.

Or maybe he was used to taking liberties with women. After all, he'd spoken plainly about the many women he'd kissed. Had even bragged about it. It could be he collected kisses like old men collect lint in their pockets.

All she knew was that she had to leave as soon as possible. She was in the process of turning the buggy around when Rand charged from the house.

“Wait,” he hollered.

Delta pulled back on the reins and Rand got into the buggy. When she glanced up, Cooper stood in the doorway of the house, his face bathed in shadows. She wondered what had happened between him and Rand.

Or more importantly, between her and Cooper.

Dear God, help her. The man bewildered her and complicated her orderly life.

***

Cooper watched the buggy until it vanished from sight. He called himself every name he could think of. He had no idea what had come over him. The fresh fragrance of her, that damn beauty mark beneath her mouth, had driven him crazy. When she'd sprung to her feet, her temper flaring, all he could think about was kissing her senseless.

Hell would likely freeze over before he ever got another chance to taste her lips.

Miss Delta Dandridge was the most maddening woman he'd ever met. Most of the time he didn't know if he was up or down. She had no idea what she did to a man. How she tied him in knots and made him forget his good sense. Hell!

Quite possibly after today, she'd never speak to him again.

The one thing he regretted was Rand. Cooper had never meant for the kiss to happen, but that his middle brother witnessed the act was unfortunate. They'd had words, had both said things they shouldn't. Never had they let a woman come between them.

Until now. He winced.

He'd have to apologize the next time he went into town. But first, he'd give Rand time to cool off. Then he'd do his sorry-saying and everything would be all right again. They wouldn't stay mad long. After all, their bond was strong.

Exactly why seeing her with Rand had burrowed deep under his skin he didn't know. But it had. He wasn't up to examining the reasons.

Not yet, anyway.

With regret weighing heavy on his chest, Cooper turned his attention to the branding. He'd best get on with it. He had lots to do before dark.

He meant to take the first shift of guard duty for the section farthest from the main gate when night fell. If anyone crossed onto his land, they'd probably do it there. Swinging into the saddle, he pointed Rebel toward the corral and the branding that couldn't wait.

Then the day was gone before he could blink. The hot supper filled him, even if the fried potatoes were black underneath. At least the beans were good and the corn bread hit the spot. He looked longingly toward the bedroom and his soft bed before grabbing his rifle and trudging out to saddle Rebel.

It was going to be a long night.

A short while later, he pulled up the collar of his jacket against the chill and settled under a big tree, with the rifle lying across his stomach. The buckskin nibbled on some rye grass nearby. A quarter moon dimly lit the countryside.

He'd stationed three more men at intervals up and down the mile-long stretch of land. Cooper was grateful that steep cliffs guarded most of the Long Odds. Sure made his task a lot easier. He'd told his men to fire three shots in the air if they saw intruders.

Somewhere in the distance, coyotes howled. The night predators had come out, it appeared. Sudden rustling of the brush made the hair on his neck stand on end.

Pointing the rifle in the direction of the sound, he slowly stood. Surprise and relief came in equal measures when Bandit bounded out.

The way the scamp's tongue lolled to one side, it looked like he was grinning to beat all. The dog jumped up on Cooper's leg.

“Hey, boy.” Cooper knelt to take the animal in his arms. “Don't know what you're doing out here, but I'm happy to see you. Long as you're here, you might as well learn how to guard. You appear to be a natural at tracking already.”

Resuming his place under the tree, he reflected on how blessed he was. A man couldn't hope for more than a good horse and a faithful dog. Sure helped ease life's trials.

It neared midnight when strange sounds reached his ears. Hooves struck the ground and brush snapped under the weight of something. Bandit's ears perked up.

Cooper quietly stood, his finger resting on the trigger of the old Winchester. He crept forward on the balls of his feet as the moist night air swirled about him.

All of a sudden a horse came into view, pulling an oxcart that had a steer in it.

“That's far enough,” Cooper warned.

In the next instant, another horse and rider came at Cooper from behind at a full gallop.

He aimed the rifle, but before he could get a shot off, he had to leap out of the way to avoid being trampled.

Hell and be damned!

Rolling out from under the horse's hooves, he jumped to his feet. The rider pulled hard on the reins and the horse turned. Back they came even faster. Cooper grabbed Bandit and scrambled behind the tree. He'd lost his Winchester during the fall. The moon's rays glinted off of the rifle where it lay several yards away.

Jerking his pistol from the holster, he squeezed off three shots. The rider yelled and grabbed his arm. The man driving the cart returned fire, all the while trying to get his cart turned around.

Evidently seeing it was useless, the obscured trespasser scrambled onto the back of the horse that carried the lone rider and they galloped off into the blackness.

Reinforcements arrived about five minutes later. Cooper and the men inspected the abandoned cart and the steer inside. The poor beast had thick mucus hanging from its mouth and could barely stand, leaving no doubt about its purpose.

“Did you see the varmints, Coop?” Zeke asked.

“Just barely. Both men had their hats pulled down low, and I was too busy trying to stay alive to try to get a better glimpse of them. This is the last button on Mabel's drawers. You can bet I'll pay a visit to the few neighbors around here bright and early tomorrow. Should've long before this.”

“An' I'll go with you,” Zeke declared.

“What're we gonna do with this poor critter?” another cowboy asked.

“If we can get it out of the cart, I'll shoot it and we'll set it ablaze.” Cooper stalked to the conveyance and pulled the wooden pins to release the back. He tied a rope around the sickly beast's neck and urged it to the ground.

Zeke moved the horses far away from it.

One well-aimed shot put the steer out of its misery. Zeke and the other cowboys set it on fire.

“What're we gonna do with the horse that's pullin' the cart?” Zeke wanted to know.

“Someone'll have to drive the horse and cart up to the barn for now. Keep the horse away from the others just in case he's carrying the disease. I'll decide what to do tomorrow.” Cooper looked around for Bandit. He'd lost track of the dog during the excitement.

But Bandit wasn't anywhere to be seen. Cooper whistled and called. He searched the brush and came up empty. He'd about given up when the canine scampered into view. The dog had a black felt hat clenched in his teeth. He laid it at Cooper's feet, then sat back and looked up expectantly.

“Good boy!” Cooper ruffled Bandit's ears and picked up the hat. “This must've fallen off one of the trespassers. You're gonna make an excellent tracker.”

Zeke grinned from ear to ear like a proud parent. “He must've chased after 'em, all right. I think he's earned his keep. Maybe you can get some inkling about who the owner might be from the hat.”

“Reckon so,” Cooper agreed. He'd need more light to inspect it though. “Let's head for the house. It's time for the second shift. I doubt they'll be back tonight, but we should still keep watch just in case.”

***

Miles away in Battle Creek, Delta Dandridge threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She couldn't sleep. Thoughts churned inside her head. She couldn't get the kiss out of her mind.

A woman's first kiss, she learned, wasn't something she could easily forget. So many emotions swirled inside her. One minute she wanted to laugh and the next to cry.

A silent tear slipped down her cheek. Her fingers stole to her lips. She savored the remembrance and couldn't stifle the fervent wish for more. Not that it would ever happen again. By now, Cooper Thorne had likely come to his senses and realized his mistake.

She kept hearing that deep voice of Cooper's that rumbled like distant thunder and turned her insides to jelly.

Wanted
to
warn
you
about
Rand
, he'd said.
You'll get your heart broken if you get too close. He likes all women…for a while. But like me, he'll never find the altar.

Was the warning not so much about Rand, but himself?

Again. How many times did he think he had to remind her? She
could
understand English.

Delta walked to the window that overlooked Battle Creek. Darkness bathed the town, softening the sad, shabby buildings. It would be hours before daylight. The town hadn't changed, but she sure had. She wasn't the same woman who'd set out for Cooper's ranch with such high anticipation.

She should probably be angry. Most women would.

But she wasn't.

Though the kiss had come so suddenly, like a summer rainstorm sweeping across the hills and valleys, Cooper's touch had been gentle. He hadn't kissed her out of anger. And she supposed it surprised him as much as it did her. At least that's what she'd seen in his honest gray stare.

The memory of the firm pressure of his lips on hers persisted despite her efforts to put it in perspective. She'd come to Texas to find a new start and had not been disappointed.

This was a place in which to mend broken dreams and find true worth. Opportunity abounded. It was all around her, and all she had to do was reach out and grab it.

No one taunted and jeered at her here.

Leaning her forehead against the windowpane, she sighed. Whatever hardship she'd gone through to get here, it'd been worth it a hundred times over. The memory of selling the only thing she had of value in order to bury her mother brought pain. The gold locket had been given to Phoebe Dandridge by her grandmother, who'd emigrated from Ireland. That woman too had been looking for a fresh start and found it along with the love of a lifetime. Phoebe had only found a rotten, no-good weasel who'd refused to marry her after she found herself in trouble. Her poor mother had been beneath the wealthy Langston Graham.

Delta's thoughts rambled on until she arrived back where she started.

The kiss.

Rand hadn't said much during the drive back to town. He'd apologized for talking her into going out to the ranch, and that was the extent of it. Delta had tried to assure him that everything was fine, but she knew he'd not bought her fib. She wondered if he sensed the change in her, wondered if it was that apparent.

Not that it would lead anywhere.

It couldn't. Cooper Thorne had made that crystal clear.

But, Lord, why did he have to have his heart set on being a bachelor?

Thankfully, Delta had her job to occupy her wayward thoughts. Dwelling on Cooper and the way she'd felt all warm and melty when his lips touched hers would gain her nothing.

She reported for work on Monday morning and immediately grabbed a broom and went out to sweep the sidewalk in front of the general store. Loud sobs drew her attention. A young, copper-haired boy who likely hadn't seen too many birthdays ran up the street as if the devil bit at his heels.

Delta put down her broom and walked toward him. Her heart skittered when she saw the blood and dark bruises on his face. “Do you need help, young man?”

The youngster seemed in a daze. He swiped at the tears on his cheeks with his torn shirt sleeve. She recognized him from seeing him talk to Cooper and the few times he'd come into the store. She didn't know his name, though. He never bought anything—just stood silently in front of the candy jar and stared.

The boy jerked and glanced up when she laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Where's Mr. Cooper? He said to come find him.”

“I haven't seen him.” She led him out of the street. “Can I help?”

“My mama. She ain't moving. I cain't wake her up.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “I'm scared.”

Delta untied her apron and tossed it near the broom. “Show me where she is. I'll see what I can do. What is your name?”

“Ben. Ben Barclay.” His chin quivered when he spoke.

“Okay, Ben. Let's get your mama some help.” She took his hand.

“Pa got likkered up and he took his fists to her.” The boy bravely tried to swallow his sobs, but one made it past his bloodied lip. “Mr. Cooper always knows what to do. He's my friend and I need him.”

“Take me to your mama.” Hot anger rose. One thing she couldn't abide was a man who beat his family. She didn't know what she'd do if she ran into Ben's pa, but she wouldn't back down from him. That much she knew. She glanced toward the saloon. Maybe she should get Rand. But she didn't get a chance before Ben was dragging her down the street in his hurry to get back to his mother.

Little more than a lean-to, the hovel where the youngster and his mother lived was surrounded by thick brush with only a trail of sorts leading to the front door. Ben held back, clearly terrified. She could tell he wanted to be brave, but fear was winning out.

“You wait outside until I call you. Hide in the brush where you won't be seen.” When the boy hesitated, she added, “I'll be fine. Go on now.”

Delta made sure he was safely out of sight before she stepped to the door and rapped smartly. No answer. She turned the knob and entered. Her eyes had trouble adjusting to the dark interior. It appeared the only light came from cracks between the boards. The floor was dirt.

“Hello?” She waited for a response. Ben's father was either gone or passed out. She didn't see him anywhere.

Stumbling toward a dark figure lying on the floor, her foot met with an empty liquor bottle; it went skittering across the floor before hitting the leg of the table.

“Ma'am, I'm Delta Dandridge.” She bent over Ben's mother.

She didn't move. Delta desperately needed some light. She spied a lamp on the rickety table and lit it, then carried it over to the woman.

A nasty gash sliced her head. Bruises, old on top of new, colored her face. Delta needed some water to wash off the blood, but she didn't see any so she lifted her skirt and tore a strip from her petticoat. Using that, she wrapped it around the woman's head to stanch the wound.

Low moans coming from Mrs. Barclay gave Delta hope. She needed to move her to a safe place where she could doctor her.

“Ma'am, can you hear me?”

Feebly lifting her arm, the woman muttered, “Help.”

“Yes, ma'am. That's why I'm here.”

“Cooper?”

“I'm sorry, ma'am, but he's out at the ranch. I'm Delta Dandridge. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”

“Gotta see to my boy.”

“Ben's fine. He's safe.”

Clearly her patient wouldn't be able to walk under her own power. Delta stepped to the door. “Ben, can you run and get the sheriff or Mr. Sinclair at the saloon? Do you think you can do that?”

The brush rustled as the boy came out. He gave her a nod.

“If you see your pa, run for help.”

The lad whimpered and raced down the street. While she waited for reinforcements, she made Mrs. Barclay as comfortable as she could. Looking around, she found a pillow of sorts and put it under the woman's head. A pitcher had a few drops of water in it, so she tore off another section of her petticoat and wiped away a little of the blood. Then she located a length of wood from a smashed chair. If Mr. Barclay returned, she'd crack it over his head as hard as she could. All the while, she kept an ear open for the sound of footsteps.

Before long she heard the sound of Rand's voice. She breathed a sigh of relief and put down her weapon. He and a man he called Pettibone wasted no time.

Rand gently lifted the limp, broken woman in his arms. “Where do you want me to take her?”

Delta hadn't given any thought to that. She searched her mind for a suitable place and only one popped into her head. “The boardinghouse.”

Mrs. Barclay moaned a few times, then went limp in Rand's arms as he wended his way toward the establishment. Since Delta couldn't assist with the carrying, she hurried ahead to explain the situation to Mabel. When Rand arrived, Delta held the door for him, then followed him up the stairs to the room Mabel indicated.

“Land's sakes, that rotten man nearly killed Jenny this time,” Mabel exclaimed after Rand laid their patient on a bed.

“Yes, ma'am, he did.” Delta turned to Ben. “Can you go get the doc?”

The boy nodded again and scampered loudly down the stairs.

Delta touched Rand's arm. “Thank you.”

“Glad to help.” He and Pettibone looked mighty uncomfortable. At last Rand said, “If you have everything under control here, we have some business to take care of.”

“We can manage this part.”

The two men left, and while they waited for the doctor, Mabel King bustled downstairs to heat some water. She returned with it, along with an armful of clean cloths.

Pushing aside Jenny's blood-soaked hair, Delta examined the wounds. A cut next to her right eye looked troublesome, as did a large protrusion on her jaw. But a great deal of blood still flowed from the wound on the side of her head. “I didn't know where else to take her. I hope you don't mind.”

“I'm glad you brought her here. Jenny's my baby sister.” Tears filled Mabel's eyes. “I always knew that husband of hers was a sorry, low-down excuse for a man. I tried to warn her he'd hurt her real bad. She just brushed my fears aside and said she knew how to handle Hogue Barclay.”

Just then Ben returned with Doc Yates. Delta hadn't had the opportunity to make his acquaintance but she instantly liked him. The short, stooped man had wise eyes and a shock of snow-white hair that hadn't been combed in Lord knew how long.

Ben pressed close to the bed. “Is Mama gonna wake up?”

Mabel's arm stole around her nephew. “She sure is. Don't you worry none. Sometimes it takes a while for the brain to remember to tell the eyes to open.” She cleared the hoarseness from her throat. “How about we go down to the kitchen and see what's in my cookie jar?”

“But Mama…”

Doc Yates patted Ben's head. “Go with your aunt, son. I'll take real good care of your mama.”

Delta dipped the blood-soaked cloth she'd used to clean Jenny's wound into the basin. “Ben, let Doc work. We'll put her in a nightgown and make her comfortable. Then you can sit with her all you want. How about that?”

Ben's bottom lip quivered as he nodded. “I reckon.”

To Delta's relief, he went with his aunt, although reluctantly.

When the door closed behind them, Doc Yates examined every inch of his patient. Suddenly, he turned. “She's pregnant.”

Shock rippled through Delta. “Is the baby all right?”

“Near as I can tell. Has a good heartbeat.”

“How far along is she?”

“I'd estimate about five months. 'Course, she's so thin, it's hard to tell.”

The poor thing. Her heart broke for Jenny. To be in such a bad marriage and now in the family way on top of it compounded everything. Maybe her husband had tried to make his wife miscarry. Maybe that was why he'd been so angry.

After Doc bandaged Jenny's head, Delta got her into a nightgown. Now that she could see Jenny Barclay's face, the deep bruises and cuts made Delta's heart ache. She had probably been a pretty woman once, but the years and the mistreatment had taken a toll. How on earth could she have kept her son in that environment? It was bad enough she chose that for herself, but for her son too?

Or maybe Jenny had taken the beatings so Ben would get fewer? Possible. Delta shouldn't judge.

One thing she knew—she wouldn't rest until she persuaded the sheriff to put Hogue Barclay in jail and throw away the key. He wouldn't get a chance to do this again, if she had any say-so in the matter. She'd tar and feather him herself and run him to the far ends of the earth, where pestilence and disease and deadly vipers would make his life unbearable.

“Well, I think this is all I can do.” The doc sighed, peering over his spectacles. “The rest is up to the good Lord and Jenny. I'll check on her tomorrow. If you need me, you know where I'll be.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

As soon as Mabel and Ben returned to sit with the patient, Delta marched straight to the sheriff's office. “I demand to have Hogue Barclay arrested,” she said without preamble.

Sheriff Strayhorn glanced at her with bleary eyes over a handbill he'd been studying. It appeared he hadn't had much sleep. She didn't know crime was so rampant in Battle Creek. “Miss Dandridge, is it?”

“That's right.” She ignored his gesture for her to take the chair in front of his desk. She was far too mad to sit and pretend the world was all rosy. “I want the man arrested.”

The heavy sigh told her this wasn't the first time the sheriff had dealt with Hogue. “May I ask what he did?”

“Beat his wife and son within an inch of their lives. Jenny's over at the boardinghouse unconscious, and Ben's black and blue with bruises.”

Strayhorn smoothed his bushy mustache that almost completely hid his mouth and laid down the handbill. “I warned him about this. Frankly, I didn't know he was back in town. Never stays too long when he does show up. A shiftless sort. A mystery to me what Jenny sees in him. Reckon I'll know where to look.”

“So you'll lock him up?” Delta pressed.

“I'll have a talk with him, Miss Dandridge, and get to the bottom of this,” the middle-aged sheriff ground out. “And I mean to check on Jenny. I'll decide for myself if the facts warrant an arrest.”

Delta felt like grabbing the lawman and shaking him. Could he not see the gravity of the situation? “Is that the best you can do?”

“Afraid so, ma'am.” Sheriff Strayhorn stood and jerked his hat on. His imposing height coupled with the gun belt around his waist told her the barrel-chested lawman could handle whatever arose.

If only he took the matter seriously.

Perhaps the fact she was new in town had some bearing on things, she supposed. No one knew anything about her. The sheriff probably took her for a troublemaker. Well, she'd have to convince folks of her good character, but that took time, time she didn't have at the moment.

Outside the jail, they parted company. The lawman ambled toward the saloon and Delta stomped up the street to the mercantile.

Once she told John Abercrombie the circumstances of why she'd abandoned the store, he insisted she take the rest of the day off.

By the time she returned to Mabel's, Jenny Barclay still had yet to open her eyes. Not uncommon, though. A deep head wound could leave a body unconscious for days. To find the sheriff there surprised her. The deep lines of his face had hardened into a mask. He was clearly affected by what he saw.

Strayhorn grimly rose from a chair beside the bed. “I'll have Hogue in jail within the hour.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Relief flooded over her.

“No man is gonna do this in my town and get away with it.” His voice turned to hard granite. “Don't know how long I can keep him locked up, though. If she dies, I'll charge him with murder. If she lives, he'll go free. No law on the books against a husband correcting his wife and kids however he sees fit. Not yet anyway, though there definitely should be.”

The inequality made her furious. She wrestled to keep her tongue. After a few moments, she said tightly, “We'll deal with that when the time comes, I suppose.”

Ben tiptoed into the room after the sheriff left. Mabel had cleaned the blood from his lip and tended myriad other cuts. He sat in the chair and took his mother's limp hand in his. “I wish she'd wake up.”

“She will,” Delta assured him. “She's going to be fine.”

Her heart went out to the boy. He'd been through so much for someone so young. She made herself a vow—not only would he have Cooper as a guardian angel, but he'd have her also.

A person couldn't have too many guardian angels.