Lonesome Valley Bride (High Sierra Book 1) Read online

  This fool hadn’t understood what he was getting himself into.

  “You’re Bill Johnson?” Jack said. “Bart Johnson’s brother.”

  The man’s face had turned as white as ground flour and his eyes as big as moons. He stared at the gun in Jack’s hand. Looking at his death.

  “It was a fair fight,” Jack told him. “I was sent to get him. But he knew a rope was his fate and chose to shoot it out. He missed. I didn’t.”

  The cowboy gulped.

  “I could kill you, right here, right now,” Jack continued in a calm voice. “And there ain’t a jury this side of St Louis that would convict me.” Jack continued to study the man. He pulled up his memories from three months earlier. The younger brother had never been involved with Bart’s crimes.

  A sadness filled him as he realized how close he had come to ending this young man’s life. All over some stupid incident three months earlier three territories away. The young man must have followed him. Everyone had known he was headed for the Carson Reno area.

  Jenny held his free arm and started to peek out from behind his back. He adjusted and pushed her behind him, keeping a hand on her to make sure she stayed there. She growled under her breath, but he ignored her and focused on the man in front of him.

  A tenseness filled the air. The young man could still go for his gun. Backed into a corner, he might choose to try. It might be the only way he thought he could live with himself. And once the shooting started there was no telling what might happen.

  “You don’t have any other family but your parents if I remember correctly,” Jack said.

  The man shook his head as he continued to stare at the gun in Jack’s hand.

  “So, if you die, their line dies with you, ain’t that right?”

  The young man nodded slowly.

  “Shame for a man to lose everything he’d sacrificed for. I imagine your father would feel like a lost soul. Losing both sons would be a hard thing.”

  The young man swallowed again then nodded.

  “I’ll tell you what,” Jack said with a calm voice. “It’s my wedding day. A man shouldn’t kill another on his wedding day. It’s bad luck. So, get on your horse and ride away. I hear Texas is nice this time of year.”

  The cowboy continued to stare at the gun as he licked his lips. Jack could see it in his eyes. A combination of shame, fear, and now hope. Finally, it looked like hope had won, but still, the man hesitated. Obviously terrified about turning his back on Jack and his colt.

  “No need to worry about me shooting you in the back,” Jack told him. “If I wanted you dead, they’d already be laying out your body.”

  The man gulped then finally brought his eyes up to meet Jack’s. The two of them stared each other in the eye for a long moment then, at last, the cowboy’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Jack relaxed and took in a deep breath as the man turned and got on his horse.

  Jack stood there, keeping Jenny behind him until the cowboy had ridden out of sight. Finally, once things felt safe again, he turned to his wife.

  She stared up at him with a look of pure fear. “Who are you?” she asked.

  Chapter Four

  Jenny glanced over at her new husband as the wagon hit a rut and rocked to the side. Who was he? They hadn’t talked since the incident outside the courthouse. Instead, he had quickly led her to the wagon, helped her up, and drove out of town.

  It was almost as if he wanted to get her out of there before she could discover who he was and change her mind.

  A cold shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the look in his eyes. He had been ready to kill that man. There was no doubt in her mind.

  What had she gotten herself into? She was married to this man and she knew absolutely nothing about him. Where he came from. What type of family did he have, if any? What did he think about politics? Nothing. He liked books. But a monster could like books, couldn’t they?

  And what of the coming night? Their wedding night. What would he expect from her? He had assured her he would never harm her. But how could she know if he was being honest? Really. She had no idea.

  Glancing over her shoulder at Duke sitting in the back of the wagon, she took some comfort in the way Duke reacted to him. Obviously, his dog loved him, that was one thing in his favor. But was that enough to start a life?

  Her father had been a cobbler. He made some of the best boots in eastern Missouri. Her world had been filled with clerks and small businessmen. A nice home ran by a sweet mother. What did she know of this new world? Again, nothing.

  Glancing over at her husband she realized that this man would never be a clerk. It wasn’t in him. No, he was a man of action. A man who had to be out doing things.

  Her husband cleared his throat then glanced at her before returning to scanning the road and surrounding desert.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said without looking at her, obviously referring to the man outside the courthouse.

  She bit her tongue to stop herself from pressing too much. Her heart told her that he was a man of few words and if pressed, he’d never reveal anything. Instead, she chose to exercise patience and wait him out.

  “I’ve done things I’m not proud of. But never anything I was ashamed of.”

  She nodded as she tried to work out his words.

  Again, there was a long silence until he unexpectedly broke it. “I was a deputy in Laramie,” he said. “Bart Johnson killed a rancher. Shot him down in the street from behind.”

  “Did you have to kill him?” she asked, unable to keep quiet. “Couldn’t you have just arrested him?”

  Her husband scoffed. “After he clipped me in the arm, it sort of answered that question. He wasn’t coming back alive.”

  “You were shot?” she gasped. “And you killed a man?”

  He glanced over at her and shook his head. “The war between the states ended what? Five years ago. Believe me, a great many men have killed and been shot.”

  Her brow furrowed as she thought about what he said. It was true. So many men of their small town had gone off to war. For both sides. There had also been that awful Bloody Quantrill raiding throughout the state.

  Her husband was right, she realized. She would have to adjust her thinking. But still, a nervousness sat at the bottom of her stomach. It was the ease with which he dealt with the situation. There was no visible concern. It was as if it was just one more thing to deal with. No different than butchering a hog or plowing a field.

  What kind of man looked at the world that way?

  They continued on with an awkward silence hovering over them. She felt the tension rising between them and decided to change the subject to something safe.

  “Duke is a strange name for a dog. Why did you name him that?”

  The dog lifted his head and looked at her. She laughed slightly and reached back to pet him.

  “Didn’t,” her husband said. “A friend of mine, an Englishman, got himself killed in a gold mine in Montana, an overhead gave way before we could brace it. Someone had to take his dog.”

  Jenny gasped, why did every subject with this man lead to pain and death.

  “You were a miner?” she asked as her curiosity began to build.

  He nodded. “Hardrock mining. Got tired of working to make another man rich. Punching cows was easier. Plus, I missed the sun. Seems I’d go weeks without seeing it sometimes.”

  “So,” she said, “cowboy, miner, deputy. What else?”

  She felt him stiffen for a moment then let out a long breath. “I was in the army. The North,” he added before glancing over at her. She instantly realized that he was worried about her thoughts on the matter. Half the nation would have been disappointed. Especially people from her home state. But deep down, she had always sided with Mr. Lincoln.

  She smiled slightly trying to encourage him.

  “The West Virginia Cavalry,” he said with a sense of pride. “I rode scout for General Sheridan up and down the Shenandoah Valley until w
e cornered Lee at Appomattox.

  Jenny thought back to the stories she had heard about the war and shivered. What must he have been through?

  “Is that where you are from? West Virginia?”

  “Tennessee, actually. Just over the border, Holstein river area.”

  She laughed as she waved at the range in front of them. “You must be used to the mountains. They are all new to me.”

  He smiled but didn’t say anything more. She silently hoped he would ask her about her life. It would be a small indication that he cared enough. But the man remained quiet.

  After almost an hour, he turned off the main road to a faint trail.

  “That way continues south up to Tahoe or later you can turn west for San Francisco beyond. Our place is to the north. I haven’t been able to work out if we’re in California or still in Nevada.

  She studied the sagebrush and sparse grass intermixed with the occasional cactus. It wasn’t desert, but it wasn’t far off. Especially when compared with the green fields of eastern Missouri.

  Seeing her concern, he said, “Don’t worry, as we get higher the land becomes more livable.”

  “How far?” she asked as she shifted on the wagon’s seat.

  “Ten, twelve miles,” he answered. “We won’t make it tonight. It’s too hard a climb for the horses to push them too fast.”

  Her heart lurched. She had her hopes set on seeing this valley. The idea of being so far from other people seemed strange. Then the realization that this was to be her wedding night. Would they be spending it outdoors? She had been on a train for two days. She needed a bath desperately.

  Her stomach turned over with worry. How could she lay with this man? She barely knew him. He had no feelings for her. The thought sent a nervous anxiety through her. What would he expect? How could they possibly …

  Sitting next to her, her husband, Jack, she reminded herself. She must start thinking of him as Jack. He glanced at her and smiled softly.

  “I understand this must be a bit much for a woman like you.”

  Her defensive instincts reared up. “What do you mean a woman like me?” she interrupted.

  His brow narrowed. “Pretty, refined, intelligent. I expect you are used to the nicer things in life. Things can be a bit rough around the edges in these parts.”

  A warmness filled her, what a kind thing to say. “Not nicer,” she said in a softer voice. “Just different. And yes, you are correct, it has all been a bit much.”

  He nodded. “So, you can rest assured. I know this is but a business arrangement. To get our valley. I won’t … um … demand anything of you.”

  Her heart stopped as her face grew hot with embarrassment. How could they be having this conversation? And why not? What was wrong with her?

  She twisted in her seat to study him with surprise. Who was this man?

  Chapter Five

  Jack adjusted his hat then glanced over at his new wife. A finer looking woman couldn’t be found this side of the Rockies. Who was he kidding? Not this side of the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.

  What was she thinking? he wondered.

  He’d seen that look in her eyes outside the courthouse. A combination of fear and disgust. Not the look a man wanted to see in his new wife.

  And why had she agreed to this marriage? he wondered. What had she thought she was getting into? Surely, she could see what kind of man he was. But then, perhaps the idea of being married carried its own weight for a woman. Especially a woman alone in this land.

  But then, this was a business arrangement, he thought to himself. He must never forget that. Miss O’Neil had been forced into it by fortune. The idea of taking advantage seemed wrong. Unfair almost. He must never forget that, he told himself. She had not wanted him for a husband. It was Parker she had set her heart on.

  No, he must leave his beautiful wife alone. A thought that was going to twist his guts into knots.

  Swallowing hard, he flicked the reins to encourage Parker’s team.

  Maybe he should ask her questions. Maybe that was what she wanted. But that way led to him being opened up and examined. No, he knew what he needed to know. She was a fine-looking woman who could cook. She seemed level headed with a deep strength. Duke liked her, which said a lot. What more could a man ask for in a wife?

  Once again, they settled into a silence. Something he was comfortable with.

  Almost an hour later, just as the sun threatened to dip behind the distant mountains, he pulled the team off to a spring he had noticed on the way down from Parker’s Lonesome Valley. More of a seep really. A small trickle fell from a crack in the cliff face to form a shallow pool of water before running off and sinking back into the desert sand.

  His wife looked over at him, her face pale. A worried look to her eyes.

  “Let’s make camp,” he said as he helped her down from the wagon. “It gets dark really quick in these parts.”

  She nodded that she understood but he could see she wanted to ask a dozen questions.

  “If you need to go off,” he said to her, “take Duke.”

  Her cheeks grew pink but then she patted her leg, calling the dog and started walking to the bushes twenty yards to the west.

  He unhitched the team and took them and Blue to the pool for a good drink then staked them on a patch of green grass. Probably the only green grass between here and their valley.

  The thought sent a warm sense of satisfaction through him. Their valley, it had a nice sound to it.

  When he was finished, he glanced in the direction his wife had gone. Duke was with her, but still, a sense of unease ate at his stomach. Should he go after her? What were the expectations in a situation like this? She was his to protect, yet she needed her privacy.

  What if something happened to her while he stood there arguing with himself. Suddenly, the reality of what being a husband meant began to sink in. It meant worrying about a woman’s safety and comfort.

  Shaking his head, he started for the bushes only to have her step out. She stopped, surprised to see him coming for her. Their eyes met and held for a long moment. God, she was prettier than a newborn filly after a hard winter. And she was his by law.

  Duke looked up at her, then at him. As if realizing his guard duties were no longer needed, he ran to the pool of water for a quick drink before going off and exploring the country.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  Jack sighed inside. A partner, he reminded himself. That was the type of woman she was. Not one of those demanding, hectoring women who drove a man insane with constant prattle about how bad things were.

  “Let’s get a fire going and some beans cooking,” he said as he went to grab his saddlebags from the back of the wagon.

  As he built the fire, she filled his small pot with water, added the beans and a bit of Pemmican. He smiled to himself. She liked them the same way he did. Good.

  “Duke,” he called. The dog raced back into the camp. “Stay,” he told the dog then removed the gun on his hip, spun the cylinder, then put it back in its holster. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he told her. “Don’t wander off.”

  “Please,” she said with a school-marmish look.

  “Pardon?” he asked, surprised.

  She took a deep breath. “It is normal when asking a person to do something to use the word please.”

  He looked at her closely for a long second. “I wasn’t asking.”

  Her eyebrows rose halfway up her forehead. “Mr. Tanner,” she began, “I can assure you that I will not be dictated to. If we are …”

  “I wasn’t dictating. More just telling.”

  “There is no difference,” she said with a huff.

  “Maybe,” he replied. “But, what with the mountain lions, wolves, coyotes, bears, both black and grizzly. And of course, the snakes, scorpions, and tarantulas. And when you add in the wandering lonely cowboy or for that matter, the local Indians. I am telling you to stay here in camp until I get back.”

/>   Her face grew white as he listed off all the things that could hurt her. But she pulled herself together quickly and squared her shoulders. “I promise you, Mr. Tanner, I don’t react well to bullies.”

  He couldn’t help but smile, the woman was actually serious. But the fire in her eyes made him realize that maybe this wasn’t a battle he could win. She was very likely to wander off just to spite him. Regardless of the dangers surrounding her.

  No, he realized. He would have to treat her like he treated a new colt being broken to a halter. Patience accomplished more in the long run.

  “Very well,” he said. “Would you please stay close to camp, Mrs. Tanner? I don’t want to have to bury you out here. I’d have to dig a deep grave to keep the critters away. And I left the shovel at the house.”

  Her face drained of color as he turned to walk away.

  .o0o.

  Jenny bit her tongue to stop herself from calling out after him. How dare he walk away like that? She wasn’t finished.

  Taking a deep breath, she fought to bring herself under control. Suddenly she wondered if this was such a wise idea. Becoming Mrs. Tanner. It was obviously the man had none of the finer social skills.

  He had all the charm of a large rock. He barely even talked. And when he did, he ordered her about like a general on the battlefield. But he needed to learn she wasn’t one of his soldiers to push around.

  She glanced down at Duke and shook her head. “He is a blockheaded idiot. How do you put up with him?”

  The dog wagged his tail as if agreeing with her.

  Then the realization of her situation smacked her on the back of the head. She was alone with a man she hardly knew. Miles and miles away from any form of civilization. Even worse. He was her husband. Under the law. He could get away with a great deal.

  Perhaps it would be best not to antagonize him.

  He was a known killer. A rough, hard man. And she had told him off. Corrected him. What had she been thinking? A sick feeling filled her. What would he do when he returned? He had said he would make no demands of her. He had even promised that he would never harm her. But how could she rely on that?