Tried and True (Wild at Heart Book #1) (24 page)

Read Tried and True (Wild at Heart Book #1) Online

Authors: Mary Connealy

Tags: #FIC027050, #Frontier and pioneer life—Fiction, #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #Idaho Territory—Fiction, #Disguise—Fiction, #Women pioneers—Fiction

Her sisters would be coming. Kylie had no doubt about that. Coming right into the teeth of danger.

That was all it took. The ground was steep, broken up, sloping downhill, and studded with boulders. She slammed her bootheels into the dirt. Her kidnapper stumbled, and they both fell. She wrenched away and dove forward down the unforgiving slope.

Falling, then scrambling, then falling again, she heard the man roar behind her. Not so silent now.

She clawed her way to her feet and knocked loose a rock from where it clung to the wooded mountainside. Dirt kicked up the beginning of a small avalanche. The man tackled her, and together they rolled and careened into a tree.

Her battered body stopped. He leapt on her just as her hand, gripping a stone the size of her fist, came at him and crashed against his head. It stunned him enough that she
was able to wriggle free. She used both feet to kick him in the chest, a move that sent her hurling back down.

Getting to her feet again, she saw what lay below—downhill for hundreds of yards, all in the wrong direction, away from her family and safety.

She ran up. He was only a few paces behind her. She grabbed an aspen as she rushed past and used her weight to spin around. She heard the kidnapper stumble on past. Dropping to her hands and knees, she scrambled.

He was coming. She heard him. Every inch she gained was one step closer to her sisters and help. And the end of whoever this watcher was who’d added to her torment. She recognized a faint trail cutting along the side of the mountain. She dodged aspen trees and boulders, praying with every breath. He’d most likely catch up, but she saw no reason to make it easy for him.

Heavy footsteps pounded behind her. He’d gained the trail. Ahead was a fork in the path. She sprinted toward what she thought was the direction of safety, taking it just as his weight slammed her facedown in the dirt.

Where all defeated foes end.

With brutal strength, he flipped her over, this time careful to keep her hands under control as he pinned her to the ground. She kicked her feet but gained no leverage. He panted as he leaned down, his gaping mouth only inches from her face, so that she couldn’t avoid his stinking breath.

She saw cruel satisfaction in his eyes as he watched her squirm. His lips twisted into a grotesque smile, and he whispered, “Kylie.”

“Enough.” Sunrise didn’t yell, but her quiet order cut through Aaron’s nearly out-of-control rage. “I need quiet.”

He realized he was on the verge of shaking Bailey.

“I’m sorry.” Aaron took Bailey into his arms and hugged her. “I’m so sorry.”

She froze as if she’d turned to stone.

“None of this is your fault. I should never have blamed you. Forgive me.”

Bailey reached up with halting movements and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Sure, Aaron. Y-you can let me go now.”

Finally, he released her and stepped back. Bailey watched him with wide eyes. She hadn’t been this unsettled when he’d been rough with her. Aaron wondered if her father had ever touched her in kindness before. He turned to look at Shannon, who was studying him as though he’d grown a second head.

Quietly she said, “You were in a panic when you came riding up. You know what’s going on, don’t you? Did the Hughes family break out of jail? Is that what’s got you scared to death?”

“Not the Hughes family. No, they were all pranks compared to this. This is about the war and a hatred that has stretched across a continent. And it’s all my fault, none of it yours.”

“Come.” Sunrise cut off Aaron’s need to blame himself more. “Leave the horses. No trail big enough to ride. The man who has her moves fast, but he is on foot.” Sunrise strode into the woods while Aaron, Bailey, and Shannon rushed to catch up, leaving their horses ground-hitched.

“Who’s doing this, Aaron, if it’s not the Hughes family?”
Bailey asked. The ground slanted sharply downward, so narrow they couldn’t make good time. They had to duck branches and step around boulders. It looked as if nothing bigger than a deer had gone this way before them.

“It all goes back to the war and an old friend who fought for the South. I found out this morning he came here to get revenge for the death of his family. He blames me for all of it. He can’t be in his right mind.”

“He’s sane enough to track you down, find out you’re married, and slip silently through the woods. I think that makes him responsible for whatever crimes he commits. Is he planning to kill Kylie?”

“From what I hear, he’s planning to kill every one of you. Then kill me.”

Nev’s words echoed in his mind.
“I swear before God that if you had
any family left, I’d shoot every one of them
and make you watch.”

Was it possible Nev wouldn’t kill Kylie until he got his hands on Aaron? Did Aaron dare to hope for something based on the ravings of a madman months ago?

“Your old friend?” Bailey said with a frown.

“Yep,” Aaron replied.

Bailey nodded, a determined look on her face. “Sunrise, let’s pick up the pace!”

Her urgency scared Aaron even more than he already was, and that was saying something, because he was terrified right down to his bones.

23

H
e dragged her to her feet, and she screamed like to peel skin off someone’s hide. The man just smiled and pushed her back against a massive tree. He wasn’t particularly rough; he didn’t gag her or hit her. In fact, she had the sense that he wanted her to scream. Which was the reason she stopped.

He was a living scarecrow, dressed in rags, skinny as a stick. His hair hung like filthy brown straw, and his tattered black hat sagged over eyes which gleamed with hatred and soul-deep pain that reached to where no medicine could heal.

“Who are you?” she asked.

He smiled, his teeth green, his face skeletal beneath a scraggly beard, close enough that his foul breath was nearly overwhelming. “Scream some more, Mrs. Masterson. I want your husband to come running to save you. I want your sisters here. I want Aaron to watch his brand-new family die, just like my family died.” The man inched
closer, and the stink of his body pushed aside the odor of his breath. His face was lined, each line creased with dirt. He couldn’t have washed in months.

Kylie remembered the stories Aaron had told her of his family dying during the war and knew somehow this man came from that part of Aaron’s life. “Are you Neville Bassett? Aaron’s neighbor?”

The man laughed, a mockery of humor. “That’s me.”

“Aaron said you were his best friend.”

“I was until he and his Union Army killed my family.” Neville spat the words. “I was until he and his Union Army starved me half to death in a prison camp. I was until his Union Army demanded I swear allegiance to the tyrants who’d tortured me for over two years. I was his best friend until he and his Union Army left me to walk home, even though I was so sick I could barely stand. I was his friend, Mrs. Masterson, and now I’m his enemy. I tried to kill him back in Shenandoah, and I’ve been after him ever since. He got off easy while my whole life was destroyed.” He laughed again, a sound as ragged as his clothing.

“I’m going to kill him and everyone he loves.” He pointed at her with one bony finger. “Then I can rest. Then the nightmares will stop and the bombs will quit exploding in my head.”

Neville reached his hands up to press against his ears, as if he were hearing explosions right now.

Kylie saw the gun.

In one trembling hand, his finger on the trigger, Neville held a ’58 Remington, Army model. Kylie had seen this same revolver a lot in the war. As it was a Union Army gun, she was surprised this loyal Son of the South had one, but
apparently hating the North didn’t stop him from knowing a good firearm when he saw one.

“When I heard you were moving today, and your precious husband was finally going to let you out of his sight, I staked out the trail knowing I’d finally get a chance at you and your family. Because you’re the only family Aaron has, and I mean to take that away from him.”

The only thing that kept her from screaming was what Neville had said about wanting her to. If she screamed, her sisters might come, and this man meant to kill them. She knew they’d be coming anyway. But if she didn’t scare them into bursting in hard, they’d be careful.

What’s more, Neville knew too much about her. He’d asked around somehow, finding out that she and Aaron had gotten married. He’d been watching her from the first night Aaron learned she wasn’t a man, the night Coulter’s cattle had trampled her rock garden.

That was the first time he’d spoken to her from the forest. She vowed then and there to never again doubt the instincts she’d been given by God.

But to know her name and to say that he heard she was moving, he’d heard that only last night, because they’d only decided to move yesterday. If he’d done that, there was a chance Aaron got wind of it and he’d be coming, too.

All Kylie had to do was stay alive. Help was close at hand.

And she had an edge. Neville had kidnapped a woman who’d been to war. Even though she liked being feminine, Kylie knew how to live through terror. She’d done it before, plenty of times. The feeling, awful as it was, was familiar. The war had prepared her for this moment, and
possibly for the first time ever, she was grateful to have gone through it.

Yes, she was frightened. Honestly, she was in the clutches of an armed madman; only an idiot wouldn’t be scared. But she could function, just like she’d functioned on her stupid roof in that rainstorm.

She realized that the only reason she’d let those snakes shake her so badly was because Aaron was there, and she didn’t have to be strong. Before he arrived, as crazed with fear as she was, she’d been fighting them off. Once he came, she’d let him take over and turned into a proper damsel in distress.

Yet maybe she could do more than function. Maybe she could help. She looked at Nev, a shadow of a man. Scared as she was, her heart broke for him. She’d heard of the horrors of prisoner-of-war camps and could only imagine all he’d been through.

“Neville, the war is over. The killing is over. Why would you want it to go on?”

“Nothing’s over. It’s in my head. I live with it. The war’s with me all day long and it haunts me at night.”

As if God whispered to her that it was the right thing to say, she told him, “I fought in the war disguised as a man.”

Neville’s head reared back, and some of the hatred was replaced with pure amazement. “No one would believe you were a man. Not for two minutes.”

Kylie sniffed and tossed her head. She even fluttered her eyelashes a bit. As a woman, she had a few wiles of her own, and she decided to try them out on him. “I believe you’ve just insulted me. Aaron said one minute. Or maybe he said ten seconds, I can’t recall, but it was definitely less than two minutes.”

It couldn’t be called a smile exactly, but Neville’s lips seemed to soften a little, and he looked a tiny bit more human.

“Masterson always had a way with women.”

Maybe she could touch him with talk of the old days. “He said you were his best friend. You know he lost everything, too. His parents, his brothers and sisters. Why can’t the war be over? It was a mad thing. I was in the middle of those battles. Decent men killing other decent men. The blood and bullets, the cannons and death. I spent an entire day trapped under the dead body of a soldier I’d killed. It was a horror that I still see in my dreams, just like you.”

Neville stared at her as if he wanted to see deep inside her mind and know her thoughts. “How could a woman be in the middle of that?”

“My brother Jimmy died, and my pa stirred up in me a desire to go fight in his place. He convinced me I needed to fight for Jimmy’s sake, to get revenge. But once I was there, it was only ugliness. I don’t understand war, do you?”

Neville shook his head slowly.

“Afterward I came out here, still disguised as a man. But, Neville . . .” Swallowing hard, Kylie reached for him, not for the gun but for the shoulder on his other side.

His eyes widened as he watched her hand approach. “What?”

She touched him and felt nothing but bones, the poor man. Just some rest and some good food would help him so much. “I found the courage to put it all behind me. God tells us we need to be born again.”

Neville sneered, and then some of that faded to misery. “To go back to the life I had before the war, to be born
back into that beautiful place . . .” He gave his head a violent shake. “That’s impossible. It’s all gone, and the people I love are all dead. Killed by your husband.”

“We can’t go back. We can’t begin that old life again. We need to start a new life. And you need that, Neville. You need to get it all out of your head and off your shoulders. You need to clean out your mind and soul and begin again. God helped me do that, and He can help you, too.”

“If only that were true. If only I could get rid of what haunts my thoughts day and night.” A longing unlike anything she’d ever seen crossed his face, and he lowered his gun. Kylie thought the fight was gone out of him. Then she heard the brush of fabric.

Neville’s head jerked up. He grabbed Kylie and yanked her in front of him. His arm came around her neck in a grip so tight it cut off her air. His gun pressed to her temple, his back to the massive tree, shielding himself well.

Aaron stepped out of the woods, gun drawn and aimed straight at Neville.

Bailey stood a ways behind him, off to his left. Kylie couldn’t see Shannon or Sunrise, but she knew they were close by. She hadn’t a single doubt. Shannon was the best of the Wilde sisters in the woods, and Sunrise was better than all of them. Those two would be ghosting around, looking for a way in from the side or from behind.

“Aaron Masterson.” Neville said the name, then spat on the ground, right over Kylie’s shoulder. He cocked the gun just inches from Kylie’s ear. “You’re lookin’ prosperous.”

Kylie had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. At the same time she wished they’d all waited. She’d almost had this mess under control.

No one ever let her handle anything.

Neville’s gun swung away from Kylie’s head and aimed at Aaron.

Kylie watched that muzzle as it pointed straight at Aaron’s heart. She knew the revolver, fully loaded, held six bullets. It could kill them all and Neville would have a bullet to spare. And a lot of men carried with them a second loaded cylinder. If he did, he had six more shots that he could have ready in seconds.

They were all just one wrong word from death. One last massacre, thanks to that awful war.

Aaron could breathe again. Now that Nev’s gun was aimed at him, Aaron had every hope the women would survive, because Bailey, Shannon, and Sunrise would gun down Nev before he killed Kylie.

Nev might get one shot away. But that shot would be at Aaron. And Nev wouldn’t fire a second time. Sunrise was already behind him with her bow and arrow drawn. Shannon was nowhere to be seen, but he’d listened to Kylie talk about how good her big sister was at slipping around in the woods. She’d vanished and was closing in, getting in position to help.

“Nev, you talk like I profited from that war, but I lost everything. My family is gone. I was driven off my land. You’re out of Camp Douglas, but you’re still in prison. Why do you hate me?”

“The North took everything and you fought for them.”

Nev was a walking skeleton. His clothes were in shreds.

“Both the North and the South did terrible damage, and they took everything from me, too.”

Nev laughed. It was a broken, mad sound. Aaron wanted to go to him. Hold him. Find the old friend. And just like that, the memory of Aaron’s decision to start anew washed over him and it was right. Right for Aaron and right for Nev, too.

Aaron lowered his arm. He wasn’t going to shoot his friend, not for any reason. Nev wasn’t ready to meet his Maker, and Aaron would have no part in ending his life.

Besides, with Kylie between them, there was no possible way for Aaron to take a shot. It was too risky. Without taking his eyes off Nev, Aaron holstered his gun.

Nev’s gleaming blue eyes followed the gun, and a furrow formed between them. “You think I’m also gonna put my gun down now?”

Aaron shook his head. “That’s not why I did it.” He took a step closer, then another.

“No, Aaron, stay back,” Kylie pleaded. She seemed to understand that Aaron was giving up on winning a gunfight.

“I would rather you shoot me than I shoot you,” Aaron said calmly. He had a better chance of surviving if he stood back. Every inch he moved closer raised the chances of a bullet finding his heart.

“You think I won’t?” Nev extended his gun.

“I hope you won’t.” Aaron kept walking. “I hope you remember how much we loved each other. We were like brothers.” He walked very slowly, making no sudden moves that would startle a man on the fragile edge of reason, that might make him flinch and fire his weapon.

“You and I, we’re enemies.” The muzzle trembled.

“No, we’re friends. Old friends. I know you’re tor
mented by the war, but can’t you take one moment before you pull that trigger and remember what good friends we were?” Aaron stepped closer. “Do you remember the first raft we built? You and I were seven years old at the most. We took nails from both our fathers and used them to keep a bunch of saplings together. Then we lashed it with vines. We almost drowned when we tried to float the thing on the river. We left the ax we borrowed from your pa and the hammer we borrowed from mine in the woods. Remember? And we went home soaking wet, and both of us got in trouble.”

Nev’s arm seemed to loosen on Kylie’s throat. “We found out the hard way that the vines we used were poison ivy.”

Aaron nodded. “We spent the rest of the summer shoveling out horse stalls and scratching. And the worst was that I didn’t get to see you for over a month. A whole month of summer and I didn’t see my best friend. I loved you then, Nev, and I still do. I refuse to let that war stop me. I would rather die than live the rest of my life knowing I killed you. I couldn’t bear to have that on my soul. I fully believe that if I died today, I’d stand before God and be judged as one of His people. I’d be allowed into heaven. If you pull that trigger, well, the Lord tells us that we have to lose our lives to gain life with Him. So I’ll go be with my heavenly Father in glory if you send me there. But you’re carrying so much hate, I’m afraid for you. I don’t want you to meet your Maker today, Nev. I know it’s not our place to judge, but I’m sorely afraid that if you went today, you wouldn’t be ready.”

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