Yellowstone Romance Series - Bundle (# 2-5) (66 page)

Hiram sputtered, but no words came from his mouth.

Judge Bennett smiled. “Well then,” he said, rising from his seat.  “According to the laws of the Catholic church, a person cannot be married without giving valid consent. This is not even a matter for the courts, but to make it sound official, I hereby order the marriage between Mr. Hiram Devereaux, and Miss Kate Ellen Chandler annulled, effective immediately. This matter is now closed.”

The last thing Kate heard was the loud bang of the judge’s gavel, as it fell to the table. A collective sigh, and loud murmurs erupted in the room. In the next instant, she was pulled from her seat, and found herself crushed to Kyle’s chest.

“It’s really over?” she whispered, hoping she had understood the judge correctly.

“It’s over, Kate. You’re free now,” Kyle said, his voice husky. He kissed the top of her head. Someone slapped Kyle on the back, saying, “good work.”

“Not so fast, Mr. Devereaux,” Judge Bennett’s loud voice boomed. Kate’s head shot up. For the first time, she dared to look at the man who’d held her prisoner for all these months. She felt no hatred for him, only relief that her life was finally her own. Hiram had turned wordlessly to leave the room, but stopped at the judge’s words.

“There is another matter that does concern you and the courts,” Judge Bennett said slowly, waiting for Hiram to face him again.

“What accursed accusations would those be?” Hiram growled, his hate-filled eyes darting to Kyle, then lingering on Kate.

“I have also been presented with evidence that you have been bribing members of Congress to sway their vote in your favor for a business venture in Montana Territory. Until this matter is investigated fully, I hereby order you remanded to jail. My bailiff is waiting outside and will escort you.”

“This is an outrage,” Hiram boomed. In the next instance, his eyes shot to Kate, and his hand reached into his vest pocket. “You will not be the ruin of me, you little whore,” he roared. Metal flashed in his hand, and Kate gasped, recognizing the little derringer Hiram kept on his person. Suddenly, everything blurred to slow motion. Kyle pushed her aside and leapt between her and Hiram.

 No! This couldn’t be happening again. Memories of that fateful day in the hotel room flashed in her mind. Kyle had pushed her aside then, too.

“Kyle,” she screamed. A second later, Hiram’s loud roar reverberated in her ears, and he clutched at his arm. The derringer fell to the ground. Wide-eyed, she stared at the knife protruding from Hiram’s upper arm. The orderly room had turned to mayhem as everyone talked at once. Kyle strode up to Hiram, and without a second’s hesitation, pulled the knife from the older man’s arm, eliciting another loud roar from him.

Josh, who had been standing silently in the shadows during the entire proceedings, stepped up next to Kate, craning his neck to get a better view of Hiram’s injury. “He’ll live,” he said dryly.

“We’ll add attempted murder to the charges,” Judge Bennett announced loudly. Then he called for his bailiff to have Hiram removed.

Kate threw herself at Kyle, wrapping her trembling arms around his waist. “I thought you’d get shot again,” she cried. He wrapped one arm around her, handing his bloody knife to Josh.

“I’m not leaving you again, Kate. It’ll take a lot more than a bullet to keep me away from you.” He held her head to his chest. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come for you myself. I got delayed in Washington. Damn beaurocrats take forever.” He held her at arm’s length. “What you did, getting those papers, it very well saved the park idea. Thank you, Kate.”

Kate gazed up at him in wonder. He was thanking her? “You freed me, Kyle. In more ways than one. I feel like I was asleep all my life until I met you. You’ve awakened me to a world I never knew existed. I love you.”

Kyle sighed deeply. “Katelyn.” He took hold of her hands, and cleared his throat. “Miss Katelyn Chandler.” He grinned widely. “I’ve asked this before, and I’ll ask again now. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more than to be your wife,” Kate answered heatedly, and reached up to kiss his lips.

“Judge Bennett,” Kate recognized Zach Osborne’s voice. “Is your schedule free to perform a wedding?”

“‘Bout time,” Josh chimed in. “Maybe then our lives can get back to normal.”

Kyle held her at the waist. “What do you say, Kate? Would you rather have a church wedding?”

“I’ve waited a long time to finally say yes to you. I don’t want to spend another moment as anyone other than Kate Russell.”

“Well, then let’s get this wedding under way,” Judge Bennett said, clapping his hands together. “Maybe I can still get home in time for the missus to not scold me for being late for supper.” His mustache twitched when he looked at Kyle. “Take my little piece of advice, son. It doesn’t matter who wears the britches in the family, it’s the person wearing the skirt who’s in charge. Don’t upset the person wearing the skirt, and you’ll be a happily married man.”

Yes, sir,” Kyle answered, with a wide smile on his face. “I believe my father told me something similar once.” He winked at Kate.

“All right, let’s get you two hitched,” Josh said impatiently. “Then we can head home.”

“Home,” Kate whispered, and gripped Kyle’s hands. “Promise me I get to wake up every morning with you to the beauty of the Madison Valley.”

Kyle’s eyes filled with love as he smiled down at her. “Every day, Katelyn, from now until forever, you’ll have your Yellowstone awakening.

Dear Reader

On March 1, 1872, President Ulysses S. Grant signed into law a bill that created the world’s first national park. Many influential men were responsible for starting the idea of a park to protect the natural resources, rather than allowing private individuals to exploit them. In 1870, Henry Washburn and Nathaniel Langford led an expedition through the area, and camped at what today is known as Madison Junction in front of a mountain aptly named National Park Mountain.  (This is the valley that is home to my characters in this series). Legend has it that they sat around the campfire, and came up with the national park idea.

In 1871, the government funded an expedition led by Dr. Ferdinand Hayden, to survey the area, and conduct scientific studies.

The bill was introduced to Congress in December, 1871. In my story, I changed the date to November. A prominent supporter of the park idea was Jay Cooke, owner of the Northern Pacific Railroad, unlike my fictional railroad owner, Hiram Devereaux. For more information on the history of Yellowstone or national parks in general, please visit the national park website at
www.nps.gov

Book 4

Acknowledgement

 Carol Spradling, my critique partner. You keep me honest in my writing, you never let anything slide, you’re my toughest critic and my biggest supporter. Thank you for your friendship and for putting up with me.

My beta reader, Arlene Foster, for her reactions and comments. Thank you to my family for their support, and to my boss at work who lets me slide and jot down little notes of dialogue that pop into my head at the most inopportune times.

Thank you, Ramona Lockwood, for creating the beautiful covers for this series! (http://coversbyramona.blogspot.com)

Chapter 1

Montana Territory, March 1877

Everyone was dead. Danica Jensen gently placed her hand over the old woman’s face, closing the lids over the lifeless eyes that would be forever frozen in time. She had performed this task five times already in the last few minutes, and her hands turned blue and stiff like the bodies that lay all around her, strewn about amongst the sage and rocks. The wind howled cold and fierce through the shallow valley, sending an icy chill straight to Danica’s soul. The wool blanket she had wrapped around her body did little to shield her from the impeding blizzard’s merciless onslaught. The sensations in her heart and mind matched the ferocity of the bitter cold bearing down on her. She knew she had to find shelter. Someone else depended on her for survival. 

 The fierce early spring blizzard had descended upon her and the family she’d been traveling with faster than the cutthroats who had swooped out of nowhere and attacked them without mercy.  The old woman had thrown a blanket over Danica and forced her to the ground when the first shots had ricocheted around them. Seconds later, the woman’s body had collapsed on top of her, leaving Danica immobile beneath her. The group never stood a chance. No one carried a gun, leaving them completely defenseless against the unprovoked attack.

Danica’s body shook with rage and cold, her muscles tense with anger. After everything she had endured over the last - how long had it been? - nearly nine months,  the cruel and senseless death of these innocent people left her feeling numb all over.  All her life, she’d been determined to control her own destiny, but recent events left her questioning and doubting if she’d ever be in control of anything again.

Growing up in a male household, and without a woman role model, she had nevertheless been expected to act like a lady. After her mother died when she was only ten years old, Danica’s father had largely ignored her, while he doted on her brother.

When her brother met with an untimely death, she had tried to be both son and daughter to her bitter father, but to no avail. She’d fussed over him as any loving daughter would. Unlike her brother Jacob, she took an interest in her father’s banking business. She soon discovered she was rather good with numbers and business dealings. Her father took no notice, and wouldn’t allow her active participation, so she kept her talent hidden.  For all outward appearances, her father acted as any responsible parent would. She had private tutors, the finest and latest fashions to wear, and wanted for nothing, save her father’s love. Danica realized early on that, although she had a parent, she was alone and would have to forge her own way through life.

Everything about her life had changed that fateful day this past summer. What was supposed to have been a fun-filled weekend adventure of sightseeing through the newly established Yellowstone National Park had turned into a living nightmare. Her friend Maddie had, by choice, suffered a horrific death that day, while Danica swore she’d stay alive at all cost. She never did find out what had happened to the six other members in her party. She hadn’t been able to stop the events of that day any more than she could have stopped what happened today.

She gently folded the hands of the old woman across her lifeless chest. Danica’s self-appointed guardian had saved her life, just as she’d taken her in and cared for her months ago, after . . . Danica sniffed. She’d been helpless to return the favor in kind. She hated leaving the bodies of these people she’d grown fond of exposed to predators. She had nothing she could use to dig graves. And she needed to get out of this weather if she was to survive. She turned and glanced at the bodies lying on the hard rocky ground one last time, saying a quiet prayer as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Danica steeled her heart. She gathered up whatever supplies she could carry that lay strewn around; a bundle of firewood, several water bags, another knife to supplement the one she kept strapped to her leg, a pouch with some dried meat, and two additional blankets. She tightened her lips in a firm line, then turned and headed toward the trees in the distance, hoping to find shelter from the ferocious wind.  As cold as it was, she feared it would snow again soon.

Keeping her head tucked low toward her chest, she walked into the wind, adjusting the firewood and blankets over her shoulder. Her back ached with her added burden, but she trudged on with a determination as fierce as the winds howling in her ears. By the time she reached the timberline, the first snow flurries danced around her face. Her breath swirled in ghostly patterns in front of her, even as perspiration beaded her forehead.

If I don’t stop soon, I won’t be able to stand up straight anymore.
She shifted her bundles from her left to her right shoulder to relieve some of the pain in her lower back. She hadn’t been in this much discomfort before. Everything would be all right, she told herself. She just needed some rest. The gray sky above quickly grew darker, and the air around her seemed to get colder, if that was even possible. Danica pulled the one blanket that she wore like a cloak tighter around herself. She no longer felt her fingers and toes.

A sudden blast of cold wind pulled the blanket from her head, sucking the air from her lungs. Her long hair whipped around her face, obscuring her vision. She had to stop. Each step she took became pure agony. Her stiff back no longer absorbed the shock from each footfall on the hard ground. Looking up, she spotted a row of young lodgepole pine trees, their low nettled branches promising some shelter.

When she reached the dense row of trees, she dropped her burden with a loud groan of relief. Before she lowered herself to the ground to crawl under the protective branches of one of the trees, she straightened her spine and held her hands to the small of her back, rubbing the tight muscles. If only she could stand upright like this for a while longer. But another strong gust sent the branches whipping and swaying precariously close to her face, and she sank cautiously to her knees. She parted several of the branches, and hastily crawled into her shelter.

There was enough room for her to turn around, but she had to stay low to the ground. The wind was, mercifully, barely noticeable. She reached her hand out from under the tree, feeling for the bundle of blankets she had dropped. The wood would be useless to her in this shelter. If she managed to start a flame, she might set the entire tree on fire. She would have to make due with the covers she brought, and hope they would offer enough warmth to get her through the night. 

Danica pulled her water bags from around her neck and uncorked one. She raised the tip to her parched lips, and took a long drink. The icy liquid chilled her insides, and in her haste for some water, a sharp pain struck her forehead between the eyes.

 “Stupid,” she mumbled at her own carelessness at drinking too quickly. After the pain subsided, she swirled the water in her mouth before the next swallow to prevent a recurrence of the ache to her brain.

Shivering even as her body was drenched in sweat, Danica unrolled her two spare blankets, and wrapped them tightly around herself. A wet body in this cold would be her death. She lay down on the soft musty earth, pulling her legs up as close to her body as was possible. She hugged her hands and arms to her stomach, rubbing in a circular motion, the cold from her numb fingers seeping right through her clothing. In a hasty decision, she dragged the water bags under the blankets, afraid they would freeze if she left them in the open.

Removing a piece of tough dried meat from her pouch, she rested her head on the ground, and chewed the meat slowly. She didn’t have much of an appetite, but she knew she had to eat. Her condition demanded that she stay nourished and hydrated. The ache in her back radiated up and down her spine, but the sensation was less intense than even a few minutes ago. Tomorrow, she would have to figure out how to get to the nearest town. Before she closed her eyes, Danica prayed the blizzard would be over by morning.

*****

Josh Osborne swayed precariously on top of his worn-out horse, clutching the area above his left hip. He leaned low over his mount’s neck to shield his face from the wind’s furious onslaught. Thankfully, the flesh wound in his side had stopped bleeding. He couldn’t say as much for the hole in his left shoulder, though, judging by the occasional warm trickle of blood down his chest. The bullet was still lodged in the fleshy part just above his collarbone. Even the slightest movement sent searing hot pain shooting down his arm.

Josh gritted his teeth, and steeled himself against the pain. He needed to stay alert. The howling wind was making his job more difficult as he urged his horse into the gale. Blinking hard to keep his eyes focused on the ground, he guided his trusting animal to follow the trail of hoof prints that would soon be obscured by the wind. Those bastards who had shot him wouldn’t be able to keep moving in this weather any more than he could. Another couple of hours at most, and it would be too dark to see anything. If he had any hope of catching up to the men he’d been tracking for several days, he needed to do it quickly. The gray skies promised snow this night.

Josh cursed his own stupidity and carelessness. The poachers he’d been following since discovering their recent site of slaughtered bison must have known he was on their trail. He hadn’t been prepared for the ambush, and only some quick maneuvering and a fast horse had saved his hide earlier today.  Men who profited from taking game inside the boundaries of Yellowstone were becoming more brazen. The animals and natural features inside the park were supposedly under the protection of the United States government, but there was no one in this vast wilderness to enforce this law. In an effort to deter the illegal harvesting of game, newly appointed superintendent of the park, and Josh’s cousin, Kyle Russell, had proposed hiring a game keeper to oversee the management of wildlife.

“The position doesn’t pay much right now, and it sure as hell is a lot for one man to take on, but you’d be perfect, cousin,” Kyle had said when he approached Josh with the offer. “It’ll also allow you to stay on the land.”

With the creation of a national park, Josh and Kyle’s homestead that their grandfather had established more than seventy years ago in the Madison Valley would become yet another casualty in the government’s vision of  “
a public park or pleasuring ground for the benefit and enjoyment of the people.”
Josh scoffed. Benefit and enjoyment of which people? Obviously the government excluded those very people who had lived on these lands for thousands of years, and who considered the area sacred. The Shoshone people who used to call these mountains home, along with all other native tribes who migrated through the area, were being systematically purged and pushed onto reservations far away from their homelands.

Josh knew that Kyle could not have foreseen this when he strongly campaigned to get the government to protect this area from settlement and private exploitation. Part of his plan had been to preserve not only the natural beauty and wonders of the area, but also the Shoshone’s ancient homelands. The land would be preserved, but its very first inhabitants were not part of the government’s plan.

Protecting the natural hot water features, and the abundant wildlife in this area proved to be a daunting task. Kyle had his hands full establishing and enforcing rules for visitors. The government set aside very little funds for law enforcement in the park. Josh had readily agreed to oversee the protection of game. Poachers became more numerous every year. The vast numbers of elk and bison were easy targets, as were the bears and wolves. Hundreds, if not thousands, of animals were needlessly slaughtered for their hides and antlers, leaving the meat to rot. Without the means for proper enforcement, there was nothing to stop the poachers. Kyle’s hands had been tied. Until he received approval for a gamekeeper, all he’d been able to do was confiscate the hides, and tell the poachers to leave the area.

Josh hadn’t been so kind. Since his appointment this past summer, word obviously had spread that anyone caught with hides or antlers would be escorted to Cooke City for prosecution. If they resisted arrest, Josh was quick with his rifle. Those poachers who remained to take their chances were obviously willing to kill for their profits, as the men Josh had been following proved.

Josh reined his horse to a stop atop a rise leading to a shallow valley below. The sagebrush swayed in the wind, and Josh scanned the distance. The timberline several miles up ahead would provide some shelter. He hated to end his pursuit, but he needed to tend to his wounds. Glancing back at the ground, his quarry’s tracks suddenly scattered, and the hoof prints indicated that the horses had been driven into a fast gallop.