The Convict and the Cattleman (28 page)

Bridgit watched him frantically reload, wishing she had a pistol of her own, if only to appear a little threatening.

“Come closer, you bastards. If you’re brave enough,” he taunted. “If you’re not afraid to taste my lead.”

They answered with shots of their own.

She flinched, pressing against the trunk.

“We’ll be at this all day at this rate.” He sighed.

Somewhere close by, there were three rapid shots. She looked across the way and Langnecker shrugged.

“You’d better hope it’s your bloody Jonah come to save the day.” Leaning around the tree, he leered at the bushrangers. “You hear that? Help is on the way and I doubt they have any use for ne’er-do-wells like the two of you.”

Kenny popped out from behind cover. His shot hit Langnecker’s shoulder. The force of the bullet knocked the ex-convict into sight.

“No!” Bridgit screamed, then covered her mouth with her hand.

Rog’s bullet struck Langnecker in the chest. The pistol fell from Langnecker’s hand, clattering to the ground.

“Got you now, pretty.” Kenny laughed and emerged, striding down the path with triumph.

Heavy as weights, her legs didn’t cooperate. She slid on the loose rock and last autumn’s mess of fallen leaves. A rough hand gripped the back of her dress, pulled her against a hard chest.

“Say good-bye now,” Kenny whispered, his rank breath filling her nostrils.

The hammer clicked and the cold barrel of his pistol pressed against her sore temple. A shudder of terror shook her body.

“Any last words for me, love?” he crooned.

She opened her mouth and a ragged sob came out. Choking it back, she gasped, “Go to hell.”

Kenny chuckled, his belly jiggling with mirth. “You first, pretty.”

The peace of the mountainside was shattered by gunfire.

25

The figures of a man and woman collapsed on the weather-worn path. Heart in his throat, Jonah dismounted and almost lost his footing on the loose gravel. Behind him, Phillip and Dagmar trained their guns on a tall, tattered man with round eyes.

“Bridgit!”

His knees hit the debris-strewn path beside her. A thick crimson river of blood ran from one of the bodies. Without regard to the bushranger, he pushed the man off her and took her by the shoulders. For a moment that lasted entirely too long, her head flopped and her beautiful green eyes stayed shut. Her face was ashen gray and sickly.

He reclined her against him, patted her on the cheek. “Wake up, love. Let me know if you’re hurt.”

Slivers of green appeared between the golden frames of lashes. “My pocket,” she whispered.

A dark bruise blossomed at her temple and a scrape marred the tender flesh on her cheek. No blood stained the front of her dress; he didn’t understand the request to check her pocket. The scars on her wrists were bruised and raw. At some point she’d been bound. He wanted to brush his lips across her injuries and soothe away her pain.

“Where do you hurt?” he asked again.

Her hand grappled for the button on her pocket and her fingers dipped inside. Her hand came out with a ruby earring. “Martha took them. She paid those–those men to take me. Ask him.”

With numb fingers, Jonah took the earring and clenched it. “It doesn’t matter right now.”

“Mr. Langnecker?” she asked, searching his face.

“Martha hired Langnecker to take you?”

“No. He rescued me. I told him about Charlotte and Olivia.” Tears streaked down her face, carving paths through the dirt smudging her face. “I asked him to bring me back to Laurie Lark.”

He straightened, looking at the man the jackaroos held captive. “Is Robert there somewhere?”

“Boss,” Rupert said. He shook his head.

A soft sob shook Bridgit. He held her tighter when she clutched him. One of the jackaroos brought a canteen and offered his handkerchief.

“Here now, sit up and let me have a look at you,” Jonah ordered.

She did as he asked, eyes swollen and red rimmed. He doused the kerchief with water and wiped away the dirt and tears.

“They were going to kill me. To throw me down a dry well.” She hiccupped and looked at the body of the bushranger.

He cupped her cheek. “No one is going to hurt you now. I’m taking you to Parramatta.”

The misery flooding her face nearly broke his heart, but she seemed past shedding tears.

“The things she gave them should be in their saddlebags. Probably Kenny’s. I wish you wouldn’t tell Mrs. Bell I had anything to do with it. I’d never steal from you, Jonah.”

“We’re not going to the Factory. Not right away. I don’t understand what happened here, but if you believe Martha planned this, then it’s not safe for you at the station.”

She swallowed. Doubt dulled the glow of her eyes. “Will you bury Mr. Langnecker with Charlotte? He loved her, Jonah, and he could’ve let them kill me, but he didn’t.”

The request sent a pang straight to his heart. His first inclination was to refuse. The wounded look on her face made him change his mind. “I’ll allow it, for you and for Charlotte. We’ve got to let the constable know of the trouble. It means taking the bodies back and getting your story.”

“I understand.” Her hair fell over her face as she hung her head.

He rocked back on his heels and stood, then wrapped his hands around her waist and helped her up. Confusion and anger battled inside him. Martha plotting to have Bridgit murdered? Hiring men to steal and kidnap an innocent woman. She wouldn’t, but at the same time he believed Bridgit couldn’t fake the fear causing her body to tremble.

* * * *

In the deep bathtub filled with nearly scalding water, Bridgit soaked the soreness out of her muscles. Her skin turned bright red from scrubbing, but she didn’t mind the sting of the soap or rough cloth she’d used. Over the lip of the tub, her hair dripped onto a towel placed there to catch excess water. She stared at the ceiling, not really seeing it. Each time she closed her eyes, she felt Kenny’s gun at her head and his breath on her cheek. She saw Robert Langnecker’s body hit the ground and the deep red blood staining his shirt.

After a few agonizing hours of riding with Jonah, they’d stopped at an inn on the outskirts of Parramatta, where he ordered rooms, a bath for her and supper. He left without a fare-thee-well.

A short rap sounded at the door and Bridgit reached for a bath sheet. Jonah, back at last, she hoped. It was dashed when a short, young maid with red hair and freckles entered. She smiled widely and clutched a bundle of clothing.

“Your mister ordered me to check on you, ma’am. He told me to bring you a nightdress. He said you’d left home without proper garments. Sometimes folks leave quickly and things get left behind. It’s laundered, though, and soft as lamb’s wool.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve also brought this dress. He got it and some underthings for you in one of the shops. Pretty, isn’t it?” The maid held the dress up. Blue cotton print with small pink flowers. Much nicer than the dresses she’d brought from the gaol. Perhaps he didn’t mean to return her right away. She could never wear such a garment inside the walls without ruining it.

“I’ll set these things on your bed, ma’am, and be on my way. Sleep well.”

Highly doubtful, but Bridgit offered a meager smile. She’d never find proper rest again. Examining the pruned skin on her fingers, she stared at the spot where Jonah’s ring had rested on her hand for less than a week. He’d come for her and acted as though he’d rediscovered something precious. Maybe he had. His watch and God alone knew what else in the sack Kenny and Rog purloined. Hopefully Mrs. Burbank’s other earring was there as well. The woman would be thrilled to see her jewels again.

She rose slowly and wrapped the sheet around her body, tucking the edge into itself. Not ten feet away, the bed looked impossibly far.

The door opened and Jonah loomed in the frame. His dark eyes took her in and lingered a moment on her legs before moving up. The warmth that always accompanied his looks flushed through her.

“Feeling better?” He stepped inside and closed the door.

“Cleaner,” she answered and turned her back on him.

“The cook reports you hardly ate a thing. Supper didn’t suit you?” His concern was ill-masked.

“I ate all I could hold.” Food was far from her mind. She crossed the floor, picked up the flannel nightgown and pulled it over her head. The towel fell at her feet. With deft fingers, she laced up the neck, grateful it reached almost to her chin. Not even the tops of her feet showed beneath the billowing length. She sank onto the bed, wanting nothing more than to curl in its feathery softness.

“Would you like some ice for your head? The proprietor keeps an ice house.”

“It’s much better.” She divided her hair and plaited it, tying the ends off with a long piece of yarn. Returning her hands to her lap, she stared at him pointedly. “I’m quite tired.”

Jonah cleared his throat and looked away. “I can imagine. If you don’t mind, the constable would like to interview you tomorrow. He’s going to have Martha arrested. The bushranger, Roger Darvott, will testify against her. He also said they were supposed to leave the stolen things with your body, but they intended to keep them.”

Jonah’s face was drawn and he looked ill.

She’d thought she’d feel satisfaction that Martha was facing justice. Instead, she felt empty. “How will the jackaroos survive without someone to feed them?”

“I sent a missive to Thomas. He’ll begin interviewing women to cook after he returns Mrs. Burbank’s earrings.”

“She’ll be pleased.” The question she yearned to ask, about whether he still wanted her, lodged in her throat. “Thank you for getting these things for me. The dress is very nice. I hope someday I can repay you.”

Frustration and regret caused his brows to knit and his jaw tightened. “Why are we pretending the engagement didn’t happen, Bridgit?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She turned away. He’d doubted her, created an aching space in her heart with his unspoken accusations. Yet she wasn’t angry with him. “I’m tired. Nothing more.”

He sat on the end of the bed, just out of reach, still close enough she could smell the saddle leather and tangy scent of salt surrounding him.

“What must have gone through your mind when you realized your valuables were gone? Between me and Rob Langnecker, you’ve had a time of it.”

“Bridgit–”

“You did find the ring around Olivia’s neck? I hate to think your mother’s jewelry was lost.” She touched the bare spot on her finger.

“Farjana gave it to me. That’s how I knew you were innocent. I shouldn’t have allowed those thoughts to cross my mind. After the fuss you made about accepting anything, I should have known–” Jonah drew a ragged breath. “Because my heart knows better than my head. I don’t expect your forgiveness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. You believed what Martha told you. I understand. She practically raised you. Why shouldn’t you trust her?”

“Why shouldn’t I have trusted you? When I went to Parramatta, I had no choice, or at least I thought I didn’t. I could have walked away from the Factory empty-handed. Instead I made up my mind that Olivia would have someone to watch after her. And everything changed. The house was merry again. You showed me Olivia is someone I love. You taught me how to give her the kind of attention she deserves. Most of all, you helped me remember family is everything. I have Laurie Lark at my fingertips, but it’s nothing without...love.”

Her heart ached at the word. “I’m glad I could be of service. I hope your next employee is as valuable.”

He stood before her. “Please look at me.”

She couldn’t deny his request. A small part of her still hoped for a future with him. The bigger part feared the worst. “I know you’ll consider Olivia’s well-being when you look for another nursemaid. Don’t go to the Factory and accept the first woman Mrs. Bell tries to pawn off on you. Promise me?”

He cupped her face with a big hand. “The offer to stay stands. Olivia needs
you
.”

“It would be too uncomfortable, Jonah, with these feelings between us.” She felt a blush creep up her neckline. “You’re not obliged to marry me.”