The Badger City Gang [Bride Train 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (15 page)

From what he heard from Florence Elliott, Emma Johnston’s husband had been a right old bastard. If he wasn’t already moldering in a grave, Walt would have taken a horsewhip to him.

Turning his back on his only child just because the boy married someone of a lower class? A woman the son loved? And then not checking after the war to see if they lived, or were in terrible trouble? Just thinking of the poor grandchildren had him twitching on the wagon seat. Thank God Florence had saved them. There were a lot of evils in the world, but those who would touch an innocent child that way should be strung up by their balls over a slow fire and roasted until night, when the scavengers came out to eat.

To clear his throat of the bad taste he got thinking about such things, he took a slug of whiskey from the bottle hanging around his neck.

He’d move heaven and earth, and a whole heap of stars as well, if he could have grandchildren. The best he could hope for was to be honorary Grandpa to the valley children. Beth Elliott said she thought of him as James and Lily’s grandfather, as they had none. They’d all come west, leaving families behind. Ross had his mama, Sunbird, his Auntie, and his extended Bannock family. Walt respected the Chief, Ross and Nevin’s grandfather, like he did few men. The rest of those in Tanner’s Ford had little family near.

While he appreciated Beth’s little ones, and those twin boys of Amelia’s, it still wasn’t the same as holding a baby and remembering relatives who looked like them. But he’d accept any grandchildren and be glad for them no matter where they came from.

He turned his mules onto the track leading to his ranch. He’d got it years ago, after grubstaking Dougal McInnes. Dougal had hit gold and then sold out his mine to move his family to safety in Texas. Walt bought the land with part of Dougal’s gold. He liked his privacy and the small cabin had done him well for years. Now Dougal’s three sons had moved in, along with a herd of longhorns. They didn’t know about his history with their Pa and his brother, Peyton. He’d tell them in good time, or not.

He’d struck a hard bargain with Zach. He, his brother, and his cousin would have to work for years to buy him out of the Running W. A man didn’t respect something unless he had to work for it.

Zach, Rusty, and Gideon were his last chance for family. He hoped they’d find at least one wife and give him grandkids. Dougal was an excellent chess player and philosopher. In Walt’s mind the two went together. All three sons could play, and think. Perhaps this winter there’d be time for that.

He chuckled through his long, white beard. Mrs. Johnston, his Emma, was making him work hard to land her. He planned for there to be plenty of bed time this winter. Dang woman said she wouldn’t kiss him until he shaved his beard off. He refused on principle, of course. And then she gave him a long, sensual kiss right before she took off to Helena for a couple of weeks!

He’d kissed her right back, of course. Her blushing “oh, my!” suggested he’d done more to her in one kiss than her husband had in many years of marriage. Mind you, he had a long drought to make up for. Twenty-some years, in fact. Not that he was counting. His cock, which he’d given up on years ago for anything more than pissing, reared its eager head. He shifted on the hard seat. Though he was over fifty, Emma made him feel like a spring chicken.

“Go back to sleep. She’s off to the City again,” he told his cock.

To take his mind off her being gone he filled up the wagon with vittles and headed to the ranch. He hadn’t delivered food for a couple of weeks and he wanted the men working, not coming into town for vittles. With Emma off buying things for her new house, that monstrosity Smythe built across from Sophie McLeod’s hotel, he had to do something to keep busy.

Walt squinted from under his shapeless black hat. He’d got it off a fella who thought he was faster than he was. That bastard would never try to cheat an old man again. Hat still had a bullet hole through it.

He slowed the mules, taking advantage of the smoother pace to haul on his jug. Yep, whiskey was good for what ailed a man. Being without his woman ailed him mighty. Not that Emma would allow him to call her that. Of course, that’s why he did it. He liked the way it turned her nose pink.

Though he looked old, his ears worked just fine, so he heard Gideon before he pulled up alongside. The boy’s horse danced about, picking up the tension he could see in the lad’s expression. He tilted his head and glared, acting the old cuss as usual.

“What’s the fuss, young feller?”

“We, ah,” Gideon sighed, grimaced, and sighed again. “We got us a visitor.”

“One of them boys from up the valley?”

“Ah, no.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a gal.”

“Oh, ho!” He chortled. “Where’d you boys find a pretty woman way out here? I thought you was workin’ all the time to buy this place.”

“We, um, well.” He took off his hat, rubbed his forehead, and settled it again. “Zach and Rusty sorta went and found her.”

Walt knew enough about the boys to know they wouldn’t do anything really bad, but Zach liked to get what he wanted. Walt could understand that, but Rusty had some interesting ideas that tended to push limits.

“Spit it out in one mouthful, Gideon, and git it over with.”

“We robbed the Bride Train,” he said, spilling the words together. “Well, Zach did, and Rusty caught her when Zach tossed her out. But Kate’s a tough gal. She rode across those mountains like a man. She’s a great cook, and…” His blush showed even though he looked away and tilted his hat.

“Is she a virgin?”

Gideon pulled at his collar. He cleared his throat and looked away. “Not no more.”

Ice filled Walt’s veins. “You took an innocent woman and—”

“God, no! We’d never do that, Mr. Chamberlain.” Gideon shook his head, eyes wide. “Zach said she jumped them the first night, after riding all day.” He nodded his head up and down so fast it gave Walt a headache. “She said their kisses made her burn and she was gonna have herself some fun for once in her life. Then she threw herself at Rusty! What could he do but help her?”

Well, didn’t that put the fox in the henhouse? Or, in this case, the hen in the fox’s house. Walt held back all the things he could say. What was done was done. A gal couldn’t reinvent her virginity, though enough money would buy her a new life. He took another slug of whiskey as he thought.

He couldn’t smile until after it burned down his throat. By then he had figured out the other part. A woman like that, wild and all, meant he might get those grandchildren after all. As long as he could get one of the McInnes boys married to the gal and stay married, that is. But, did she jump Rusty because she thought he had money? It wasn’t a secret that Walt was around when gold nuggets could be picked up by the handful. He didn’t tell anyone about the stash that would help his declining years, but the rumors were there.

That was the other reason he brought in the McInnes men, so that he wouldn’t be dry-gulched by some idjit thinking he could force Old Walt Chamberlain to give up his secrets without anyone caring if he disappeared. Emma had more than enough money of her own, so she didn’t care about any gold of his.

At least if the boys had taken the woman from the Bride Train, she wouldn’t know anything about him, or his gold stash. That settled him a bit. Maybe he could offer the boys a wedding present that would take a year off their debt. He pulled at his beard as he thought. One year off for every baby? Possible.

But if he wanted those grandkids, he had to first make sure the gal would stick. He’d once loved a woman who said she loved him, heart and soul, then married someone else. She thought she’d have a safer, more comfortable life with a wealthy man. When she told him no, he’d lit out and never heard from her again.

Life was damn tough as a rancher. Caring for three hard men during the day was one thing. Keeping them satisfied in bed might be another. Unless she was like his woman. Their few nights together had ruined him for anyone else. Millie had had fire, and passion, and so much love for him. But it still hadn’t been enough.

“What’s her name?”

“Katherine Mason. We call her Kate. She said she wants a husband some day, but isn’t looking for one now.”

“Huh,” he grunted, as if uninterested. “What she look like?”

“She’s about five one with brown hair and brown eyes. Tiny thing, but she’s tough.”

“Big hips?”

“No,” said Gideon, shaking his head. “But she said her mama was the same size and had another four babies after her, all of them living. And her pa was our size.”

Better and better, thought Walt.

“You ride on ahead, but don’t say anything,” said Walt. “I want to take her measure afore she sees me.”

Gideon, obviously relieved the worst was over, nodded and trotted away.

Walt pulled up the wagon behind a stand of trees. He hauled himself down, cursing his old bones, and hobbled the mules. He didn’t plan to be long but mules were notional, like women. When they got a notion, they lit out and didn’t look back.

He moved into the barn, glad for the cool shade, and looked toward the cabin. Gideon strode forward, arms out, smiling. A memory ran out of the house and into his arms.

“Millie?”

Walt fell to his knees, clutching at his pounding heart. He forced it to slow, not wanting to be taken by apoplexy if what he’d seen was real.

Gideon and Kate laughed in the sun. Gideon kept moving so that Kate faced Walt, but he didn’t need to see more. He’d heard her voice, her laughter.

Oh, God. She was Millie’s daughter, the spitting image of her. But who was her father? And what was she doing here? He counted on his fingers. She’d be twenty-one. They’d call her an old maid back East.

Millie’s parents had made it very clear she was far too good for Wilbur Walter Chamberlain. He’d never known the name of the man she married. She wouldn’t tell him, as she knew he’d string the bastard up by the balls for what he did to her the night they became engaged. Her parents wouldn’t call it rape. Once Millie was engaged, she belonged to her fiancé as if they were already married. The bastard had already paid her parents off with a “bride present,” the wedding was set for the following week, so Millie was as good as wed, her mother said.

She’d come to him that night, hysterical after the attack. He calmed her, soothing her with love. Since her fiancé had ripped away her virginity, she had nothing to lose. Walt showed her how a man should treat his woman. She spent each night of the next week in his arms when her parents thought she was in her bed. She insisted Walt leave before the wedding. They had a few nights of bliss, which Millie said would last her the rest of her life. Surely those nights of love had created Kate, rather than the man she married?

He wiped tears off his cheek, sniffing back the ache in his heart. Was she named Katherine after Walt’s mother, or because of someone in her husband’s family?

Was this lovely creature the result of their love? He wanted to ask her about Millie but hauled back on his eagerness. Katie couldn’t know about him being her pa. Not yet. Not until he made sure she was stronger than her mother. Gideon said so, but the boy wasn’t likely thinking with his head. Walt would make his own decision.

He knew what Zach and Gideon’s Ma did with Peyton, another bastard who should be roasting in hell. Though he already loved Katie as a daughter, he wouldn’t let her steal the hearts of the McInnes boys and then leave them to pine for the rest of their lives. She wouldn’t do what Millie had done to him all those years ago. Nor would he allow her to shame her husband, as Mary McInnes had done to Dougal.

The boys didn’t know he knew about that, either. He learned a lot while pretending to be a half-deaf, half-drunk old coot. Give men something to drink and their lips started flapping. That was his reason for hanging out at Baldy’s Saloon in town and the Golden Nugget in Bannack City. The Nugget was owned by that four-flusher, Smythe. The J Bar C boys had run him out of town for what he tried with Jed’s wife, Victoria.

Walt slumped, thinking how to handle this so he’d get what he wanted. Katie would have to prove she wanted to marry his McInnes partners. At the same time, those McInnes boys better treat his Katie right.

He sat back, gobsmacked. He had a baby girl!

He used the tail of his shirt to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. Damn, here he was hoping to borrow a few grandchildren, and suddenly he had a daughter who could give him the real thing. Not only that, she was doing with his partners what was necessary to create children.

Walt glared at Gideon kissing his little Katie, though he knew the boy couldn’t see. If those boys made her cry he’d… Hell, what would he do? He couldn’t let any of them know why he was interested. He needed a plan. He had an inkling of one, but he’d take it out to cool and let things settle first. Damn, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. But he’d find a way through. He always did. How else had he survived out here, all alone in the mountains, for over twenty years?

He unhobbled the mules, climbed on, and headed to his cabin. He wasn’t leaving until he’d gotten the whole story from her. If Katie had four younger brothers and sisters, it meant Millie must have lived at least ten years after he left. His teeth creaked as he ground them, thinking of what he could do to that Mason bastard.

The hee-haw of mules followed by the rumble of a wagon pulled Kate from Gideon’s deep kisses. A visitor!

“Who’s that?” she asked, breathless. She struggled, but Gideon held her against his arousal.

“Don’t be running away, Kate. It’s just Old Walt with our supply wagon.”

He kissed her nose, which he knew she disliked. He laughed when she swatted him.

“That’s it, missy,” croaked a wavering voice. “You show him who’s boss!”

An old man with a pure-white beard nodded at her from the wagon. He wore a dusty, shapeless dark hat, loose homespun shirt, and tanned pants with fringes. They were made out of some thick, light-colored hide. A patch covered one knee, with a gaping hole right below it.

Gideon let go of her to hold the mules so the owner could climb down. A small jug on a leather strap swung wide. He took a nip as he looked her over. He exhaled loudly and corked it. It fell into place by the three large buttons of his pants. She raised her eyes. Around his neck he wore a small, dirty gray bag.